#like the best way to get on her good side is to offer to dance with her at balls / etc

[halfyearsqueen]

listen.... dance with her

[asterias-record-shop]

not-so-secret secret (t.n. & m.r.)

Theo has always had a crush on you, but with you being his best friend's step-sister, he never did anything… but then he realized how close Mattheo was to you. Got damn, this drabble is 2.3K words.

“You can’t date my bloody sister,” Mattheo snapped, shaking his head before throwing his head back to chug down a shot of firewhisky. “You’re fucking insane.”

Theo shook his head along with Mattheo, sighing. “Y-You know that I wouldn’t-“

“With the way you look at her, yeah you would,” Mattheo shook his head as his eyes trailed your form at the Slytherin party, a slight bite of his lip making Theo look at you too. “Angel! Come over here.”

You paused your actions of dancing with your friends, grabbing your drink to walk over to the two friends. Theo loved to watch you saunter over, your hips swaying as you stood next to Mattheo who wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side.

“Go get me another drink, yeah?” Mattheo looked up at you as you hummed softly, giving him yours.

“I’m not going to finish it, I didn’t like it,” you explained as he took it, seemingly not bothered that your step-brother had his arm wrapped around you.

Theo didn’t have siblings, so that must have been normal, right?

“Thank you, angel,” he hummed as he took your drink, taking a sip before jerking his head at Theo. “Get Theo a drink then, yeah? He needs one.”

You hummed again, nodding as you smiled at Theo. “What do you want?”

“Whatever,” Theo wasn’t going to be picky when you were going to get him a drink. “I’ll take whatever you get for me.”

You nodded, letting your fingers twirl in his hair. “Okay.”

It was a simple reaction for him to lean into your touch making you giggle, his head following your touch before you walked away, making Mattheo laugh. “Goodness… you’re fucking whipped.”

Quickly, Theo looked over, shaking his head. “N-No, I’m not-”

“Yes the fuck you are,” Mattheo’s voice has a dangerous bite to it as he glared at Theo. “You better stay the fuck away from her.”

This was confusing to Theodore. He watched as you walked over, your green dress slipping further up your thighs as you weaved through people, but he watched as you finally stood in front of him and gave him the drink. “Here! I got you your favorite.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Theo said as you sat on the couch between the two of them, lifting up your legs to place your thighs on Mattheo’s. Theo watched as you did so, swallowing as you looked at him before taking a sip through the tiny straw. “Mmm, it’s good.”

“Is it?” You sat up straighter, leaning towards him. “Can I try it?”

“Yeah, of course,” he offered the cup to you in his hand, watching as you took the straw and slowly took a sip. “Good?”

You hummed, smiling as you took out the straw with your teeth before licking the bottom to get the drops that began to fall. “Mmm, so good,” you hummed before giving him the straw, putting it between his teeth as he opened his mouth. “Do you mind if we share?”

“Of course not.”

Mattheo’s hand moved to your thigh, squeezing in almost a warning-like way. It did not concern you, though, not when tonight was your night to tempt him – to tease him.

“Angel,” Mattheo warned, but it didn’t seem like Theo heard as he offered his drink to you and watched as you took a large sip, never breaking eye contact. “Stop it.”

You did not listen, offering it back to Theo and purposely letting some of the liquor fall down your lips before swiping at it with your thumb and licking it off. Theo’s eyes continued to follow you, never looking away as you tilted your head slightly.

By Merlin’s name, Theo was fine.

“Are you single, Theo?”

Your question made him swallow, inhaling slightly, before nodding. “Yes.”

“I am too,” you smiled, and your words made Mattheo’s grip tighten on your thigh as you bit your lip slightly at the feeling.

“I know.”

You were about to respond before Mattheo dragged you out, Theo swallowing as you both disappeared. At first, he waited a few minutes, he waited for you both to come back, but you didn’t.

So he went out to look for you both.

At first, it took him a minute to find out where you both were, but a few harsh breaths made his stomach twist.

“No! No, I w-won’t do it again, I promise!” A voice sobbed, stuttering before gags fell from your mouth.

“Yes you will,” another harsh voice bit back, the gags getting louder as Theo turned a corner, the sight of you pressed against one of the castle pillars with Mattheo’s fingers shoved down your throat certainly a sight to see.

It took Theo a second to register the fact that Mattheo had his slacks down to his knees as he fucked into you from behind, white pearlescent liquid running down your inner thighs as he breathed heavily.

“You love being a teasing little slut… mmm, your pussy is always so open whenever I don’t fuck you because you’re such a desperate little whore,” Mattheo growled back in response, his other hand pushing forward to slap against your clit. A yelp fell from your lips as Mattheo’s hips got faster, his harsh breaths turning into loud, guttural moans as his fingers twisted your sensitive bud. “You’re such a fucking whore… desperate for your step-brother’s cock, aren’t you a whore angel? Hm?”

His fingers pushed farther down your throat as you gagged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded mindlessly.

This sight shouldn’t have been a turn on, but it was. Cum covering your inner thighs as he fucked into you, globs of arousal continuing to fall down your thighs and make a messy puddle on the floor. How long had he been fucking you? How many times have you cum?

The mere thought made Theo rock hard, and he couldn’t help himself, pushing his hands down to start undoing his pants and pumping himself, groaning as he tilted back his head. It was so perverted what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself – besides, there was no way Mattheo would ever let him have you.

He was always so submissive with you, he couldn’t help it, but now he knew your not-so-secret secret, and now he knew what to do.

So, as soon as he finished jacking himself off – he knew exactly what to do.

The next day, he saw Mattheo – who was grinning like he knew Theo saw you both fucking last night. Like he knew Theo would follow you both out.

“Mattheo,” Theo smiled as he stood in front of his best friend, tilting his head. “You’re happy today.”

“Mmm, I had a good night,” Mattheo was sick and Theo knew it, but it was as though that sickness was slowly spreading to Theo as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure I just got a girl pregnant, and I think you know exactly who I’m talking about. You’re not exactly the most quiet person when you jack off.”

Theo just hummed in response, but leaned closer to Mattheo’s ear. “I know I’m not. And I’m going to be just as loud when I tell every press outlet that Voldemort’s son is a sick bastard who fucks his pretty little step-sister unless you let me fuck her too.”

Mattheo pulled away, a smirk on his face as he tilted his head. “Took you long enough.”

“Matty, what’s going on?” You were shocked when Mattheo took his fingers out of you, and instead of putting his cock in you to replace his digits, he stepped back. “Matty!”

“Hush angel,” he whispers, smiling as the door slowly begins to open. It was a normal reaction for you to try and cover yourself before Mattheo leaned down quickly, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “What are you doing, huh?”

“M-Mattheo, who is it-”

“Hey pretty girl,” Theo’s voice rang out, a soft moan escaping your mouth when you saw him pumping his cock.

The sight of Theo walking toward you, pumping himself as Mattheo went around your body, keeping your hands pinned down as he slowly hovered above your face. “You remember how you felt watched last night, angel? Well, there’s our audience…”

Theo’s eyes never looked away from your soaked cunt, your cum running down your beautiful, wet folds before he kneeled between your legs and held your plush thighs to his hips. “Mhm… and now it’s time to be more involved, darling…”

“W-Wait-!” You groaned as he pushed into you, your words leaving your mind as your voice disappeared as Theo started to rut his hips. Your mind went blank as you desperately tried to rut your hips into his in response, Mattheo stroking his tip all along your face with a smirk.

“You really are a whore… so desperate for any cock to fuck into you and fill your womb up with cum.”

You were about to bite back with a more harsh response, but Mattheo only took that as an entrance into your mouth, slamming his hips forward into your mouth making you choke. Your throat was still sore from last night, a whine falling from your lips before you started to gag with every thrust.

The feeling of your cunt was absolute heaven to Theo, and this gave him the chance to fully give into his more harsh code. Normally, he would have been more gentle, but he couldn’t. Mattheo’s sickness has spread to him, and now, he would never be able to go back.

“Fucking bloody hell,” Theodore moaned out, throwing his head back as he sets into a steady pace fucking into you, loud groans falling from his lips with every thrust. “She’s so fucking wet.”

“Mmm, just wait until you get her mouth,” Mattheo spoke smugly, his cock dragging and fucking down your throat roughly, as though he did not care if he would hurt you. Truthfully, he did not care if he would hurt you and you both knew that, but sometimes he felt nice. “Fuck angel, Theo knows our secret now… he can fuck you whenever he pleases and he won’t tell anyone…”

You whined loudly around his cock, hips bucking unconsciously as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, Theodore’s hands quickly going down to press your thighs to the bed. “Uh uh, my darling,” he groaned, his thrusts getting rougher as he grunted. “You’re not fucking moving away from me… merlin, you have a better cunt than I could have ever imagine, holy shit…” he drawled on in a loud moan, his hips stuttering as Mattheo cackled.

“Are you close already? You’re truly acting like a fucking virgin, come on angel, make him cum.”

You always listened to Mattheo, beginning to rock your hips into Theo’s who moaned loudly as you did so, leaning forward and fucking into you at a new position. The feeling made you moan and gag around Mattheo’s cock, the feeling of two cocks inside of you making you go insane as your stomach began to twist. It was your third orgasm, the feeling making you whine as the pit of your stomach began to feel like it was almost burning, a pulsing heat from your clit as Theo’s thumb swiped repeatedly over the sensitive bud. You gagged as you self-consciously needed to beg to cum, strangled words escaping making Mattheo groan.

“She’s about to cum. You have to listen to her beg.”

He pulled his cock out of your mouth making you cough repeatedly, but Theo’s hips only got faster, a broken wail coming from your mouth. “W-Wait! Th-Theo, it’s too much, t-too much!”

Mattheo continued to pump his cock above your face, ready to spurt cum all over you. “Beg to cum, angel, or I’ll make him pull out of you so quick you won’t even get to force yourself.”

The thought made you wail, a soft sob coming from your mouth as you eagerly nodded your head. “Pl-Please, Theo! Please, I want to cum, I want to cum!”

Theo only let out a guttural groan, barely able to speak as his thrusts got faster, hitting that spot inside of you that made your mind blur and your stomach hit that peak as your vision went black.

“Fucking cum. Cum, you stupid fucking slut,” he was finally giving into that need to be cruel, that sickness that Mattheo harnessed in the most possessive way – the need to truly use you like a fuck toy.

As Theo moaned loudly, his hips still not pausing in their rough thrusts while he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper inside of you as you came with a loud, broken scream, Mattheo laughed as he pumped himself, spurting perfect ropes of cum all along your lips and chin, even spurting some into your mouth and on your neck.

The three of you slowly rode out your highs, Theo unable to stop the movements of his hips as Mattheo let go of your hands and let his now slightly softened cock settle on your chin with his balls in your mouth. It was his way of ordering you to continue to pump him, which you did as you suckled carefully against his ball sac.

“Fuck,” Theo whispered breathlessly, inhaling as his thrusts began to feel more composed, a whine falling from your lips. “She looks so hot.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, stroking your hair as you tilted your head to the side to keep eye contact with him. “She can suck you off, too. As soon as you stop hogging her cunt.”

This made Theo laugh as your eyes rolled back. Maybe it was good to have an audience, after all.

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsiblity.

© asterias-record-shop

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader (cos who doesn't love a bit of brother's best friend?). no content warnings for this part. pls lemme know what u think of this pls and thank u.

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

y/n was a bit of an enigma in the fewtrell family. yes, she’d grown up karting with her older brother and his best friend, but it wasn’t a career for her. not like it was for max, who took his love of karting to championships and content creation and especially not like lando, who made it all the way to F1.

no, y/n fewtrell wanted a career, for now at least anyway. which leads us to now, she’s sat in a second year lecture, not listening to a single word as a slew of messages from her brother almost vibrate her phone off the desk.

she didn’t really need to think about it at all, of course she’d be there. whilst she had no interest in her actually involvement, she loved motor sports, and loved supporting lando. the amount of times she’d been recognised in her uni towns sports bar, watching the F1, was getting concerning. not to mention the time she’d finished a 10 hour shift and somehow fell asleep in said sports bar, made worse and more recognisable to lando fans by the quadrant hoodie and LN4 beanie - max had not let her live it down since the moment the photo came on his twitter feed. it just seemed odd that lando all of a sudden wanted, no, needed her presence - after all, he'd had minimal contact with her for almost a year.

but, she weighed up in her head, getting to see lando was somewhat of a reward. yes spending the day with her brother would be good, although she could sense her summer would potentially be spent with him anyway. but lando, what could she say about lando. he was always around growing up, and yes admittedly there had been a few moments shared in her early adulthood that would indicate something more but it always remained unspoken. lingering touches here and there, the night they spent dancing together in a club, though written off as drunk friendliness, and most notably an interrupted moment where he whispered “max would kill me if he knew the truth”. y/n never got to find out what the truth was, as max himself came barrelling into the room, equally as drunk as everyone else at the gathering. from that night on, she barely saw or heard from lando, well, until now supposedly.

ultimately, y/n decided that dwelling on what could’ve been, whilst lando jets off around the world, was simply not worth it. she focused on her studies, and began declining offers to watch lando race on the other side of the world. y/n fewtrell was a strong independent woman who did not need the validation from her brothers best friend.

didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it.

as predicted, the academic year ended and y/n found herself moving a bag of clothes into max’s spare room. people started spotting her in the background of streams again, fans excited to see the fewtrell’s back together and in full force - y/n now adorning a lovely bruise down the side of her arm from where max had shoved her too hard off a chair and onto the floor. sore losers run in the family.

“MAX! that hurt,” y/n whined from her new found position on the floor.

“oh did it,” max asks mockingly, “sucks to be you i guess” he adds with a shrug, although letting her use his arm to pull herself back up.

he moved back to playing his game when a text popped up on her phone making her giggle.

“what? what are you laughing at?”

“lando said “push him back”. lando,” y/n said, looking at the camera, “if i could, i would - but i quite like having somewhere to live and my own personal chauffeur,” she laughed, max laughing with her.

a month later she was in the passenger seat of max’s car, him pulling in to park outside the silverstone track. it was hours before the public would show up, so she instantly spotted the curly haired man. yes, the bright orange jumper was like a bat signal for lando, but y/n’s eyes were immediately drawn to him naturally. max had just about pulled the handbrake on when lando bounded over to the car, pulled the passenger door open and lunged himself around y/n.

“you came! it’s been too long since ive had my little lucky charm in my garage,” he says, looking directly into her eyes. a red flush runs up her cheeks, hoping that the boys will put it down to the loss of air conditioning. any awkwardness she had anticipated between the two dissolved almost instantly.

“i know, i’m sorry. i should just drop out of uni and follow you around the world, i know. forgive me,” she jokes holding her hands up, and lando quirks an eyebrow up, as if saying “you should”.

“don’t do that, y/n. one of the fewtrell’s needs to be properly educated,” max jokes, ”besides, not having his lucky charm around all the time keeps his ego in check.” lando chuckles in response, finally moving to stand fully out of the car and allowing y/n and max to climb out and join him.

“so, home race in 2 days - how you feelin’ mate?” max asked lando, raising his hand to do one of those bro hand grabs. they continued talking, y/n trailing just behind them as they walked into the building and around to the mclaren area. it was always a spectacle, coming to races. the teams, the drivers, the media, the celebrations - it was somewhat overwhelming. it was weird to see the place so empty, then again, it was 7am on FP1 day so the only people walking around were the odd driver and mechanics.

they continued to walk through the paddock, y/n just listening to the boys discussing an upcoming quadrant project, eventually reaching his drivers room. the sofa looked so inviting, especially to the girl who was dragged kicking and screaming out of bed at 5am. whilst lando distracted max, showing him his helmet for the home race, y/n crawled over to the sofa, curled up in a corner and shut her eyes.

“y/n? you good?” lando asked, after clocking her new found position.

“shut up.”

“ouch.”

“she threatened to rip my eyeballs out and shove them down my throat this morning when i tried to get her up. being told to shut up is nothing,” max laughed, ruffling the top of his sisters head and messing up her hair, “she just likes her sleep.”

“yes, she does, please let her have it,” y/n mumbles bluntly, met with chuckles from the boys.

“we’re gonna get breakfast. ill bring you back something if you want to stay here?” lando asks, her eyes perking up at the thought of food.

“yes please,” she says, with a soft smile directed towards him.

-

“next time, me and you are getting separate hotel rooms,” y/n groaned, rolling around the sofa of her hotel room trying to get comfortable.

“next time, tell me you want to come with me early enough for me to book you a separate hotel room, y/n,” her brother grumbled back.

“i’m gonna see if there’s a gym here. i need to tire myself out if i’m going to sleep on this…thing,” she said, poking at the solid leather of the sofa.

max didn’t respond to his sister, instead he rolled over to face the door and shut his eyes. y/n grabbed her key card and her shoes, and walked out the door, happy to be away from her brother. she loved him, she really did, but after spending the entire day in lando’s small driver room with him - she really just needed some brother-free air.

she barely reached the lift at the end of the hallway when she got a text, diverting her entire plans for that evening.

i’m bored. come on a drive with me?

going on a late night drive with lando was not out of the ordinary, but usually max was there. had he sent max the same message? either way, she responded with a quick yes and thumbs up.

cool. im outside btw. hurry up.

have you just turned up assuming i was going to say yes?

was i wrong?

shut up im coming down now

[ktgoodmorning]

You know I love you

(love language series- words of affirmation)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Inspired by the love language words of affirmation- You and Alexia go out with the team and Alexia allows herself to get drunk, making her extra affectionate with you.

Perfect. A.Bonmati. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll. Giving/receiving gifts.

Masterlist

“Ale, will you pass me my lip gloss?” you both were standing in front of your vanity, getting ready for a night out with the team. You had just won a big game with Barcelona so of course everyone was going out to celebrate. 

“Only if I get a kiss first,” Alexia gave you a teasing smile as she passed it over to you. You never turned down a chance to kiss your girlfriend, especially with how excited you were to go out with her tonight. Even though she was known for never drinking during the season, she had promised that she’d loosen up and have fun tonight which had you reeling in anticipation. 

You smiled up at her as you chased her lips again, eager for the night ahead of you. It’d been awhile since the team had gone out because of how busy your match schedule had been. Of course it had been even longer since Alexia had actually participated in these nights out so it really made tonight feel special. 

Normally neither of you took very long to get ready, just adding some light makeup and changing clothes. But because tonight felt so special, you both wanted to make the most of it. Each of you had finished off a couple glasses of wine while you took your time doing your hair and makeup. Alexia had put on some music while the two of you danced around your bathroom, constantly being distracted by each other. 

“Amor, hair up or down?” you stopped what you were doing and stepped back from the mirror to help answer your girlfriend’s question. 

Your head tilted as you tried to help her decide, “hmmm, I can’t pick, you’ll look perfect either way so just do whichever will be more comfortable.” She pouted at your lack of help as you leaned up to peck her lips again. “I don’t know why you always ask, we both know I can never decide, Ale.”

Alexia tried her best to hide her growing smile, unable to continue her pout when you were there to give her kisses. “Cause I value your opinion and you have good ideas,” she shrugged at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Maybe hair up. It’ll probably be hot so then it’s out of your way?” you tried to offer her some sort of guidance even if it wasn’t a lot. 

“See I knew you would know. You always do,” The blonde pulled you in for yet another kiss before pulling her hair back into a neat low ponytail. 

Everyone always said Alexia was quiet and stoic. In a way, maybe she was, but you rarely saw that side of her. Socially awkward, sure. But not usually stoic. When she was with you she was rarely quiet. That was her time to let it all out, to not hold back. You were never going to judge her so she felt safe being her full self around you. She was somewhat chatty with her friends but with you she literally never stopped talking. Sometimes it surprised people but you were used to it. You loved it. Alexia was always making sure that you knew how much she loved you, constantly showering you with compliments. 

It wasn’t long before your girlfriend let you know that your Uber would be at your house in the next ten minutes. Alexia left the room to finish getting ready while you put the finishing touches on your makeup. 

When you greeted her by the front door, you were blown away by how good she looked. She had on a short-sleeved black button down that clearly had nothing underneath it. It had just enough buttons undone to drive you insane, and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few more opened as the night went on. Your jaw was hanging open as you stared at her, lost in her beauty.

 Because of your own distraction, you had no idea Alexia was looking the exact same way at you. “Amor. You are so…” she struggled to find the word she wanted to describe you, “perfect. More than perfect.” You snapped out of your daze as she pulled you into her by your hips. All you could do was kiss her hard. “I cannot believe how beautiful you are,” she mumbled against your lips as she returned the gesture. “I am so in love with you, you don’t even know.” This wasn’t unusual for her- trying her best to talk to you and kiss you at the same time. Sometimes it was the only way she knew to express all her feelings for you. 

Your hands reached for the back of her neck, pulling her closer, being careful not to mess up her hair. “Just kiss me, Ale,” you practically moaned into her mouth. All of the sudden you were interrupted by her phone buzzing aggressively. You both groaned loudly as you reluctantly separated for her to see what the notification was. 

“Uber’s here amor.” your foreheads were pressed together as you both tried to catch your breath. She separated herself further before leaving one last kiss softly on your lips. “We continue this later, vale?” All you could do was nod your head desperately as Alexia grabbed your purse for you and led you out the door. 

Once you were both in the car, Alexia’s hand immediately found its way to your thigh. Your mind was running wild with anticipation for the night ahead of you. The night was going to be perfect. The team was finally going to have the time to let loose together and have fun. They really were your best friends, your family. Obviously afterwards with Alexia was going to be equally as fun, but you were still excited for the time with all your friends before that

. 

You looked over to your girlfriend, only to see her staring at you with intensity in her eyes. Her look made you blush, just as it always did. The look on her face made you giggle, “Why are you staring at me, Ale?” You asked her teasingly, mocking the way her jaw had gone slack. 

Alexia wasn’t phased by your teasing, not even hesitating with her response, “Because you’re beautiful.” She smiled at you and offered you a shrug, once again acting like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “And cause it’s cute when you blush.” The smile on her face had transformed into more of a smirk. You just shook your head at her. You should probably be used to her compliments at this point but it made you blush just as much as when you first met. 

.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at the club and Alexia was leading you in, holding your hand tightly. Instantly, Mapi was yelling over at the two of you, “This round’s on you, Capitana! (Y/N) get over here and come see me!” Mapi’s words were already slurring as you broke apart from your girlfriend and joined the rest of the team. 

The second you reached them, Pina threw an arm around your shoulders and passed you a drink, ready for you to join the party. “I hear Capi’s drinking tonight, si?” The smirk was clear in her voice, excited to see her mentor let loose for once. You nodded and gave her a smirk in return, equally as excited as she was.

 It’s not that you minded when she stayed sober, she was still plenty of fun. It was admirable to everyone the amount of self control she had. Your girlfriend always encouraged you to drink what you wanted and she would take care of you. She would always drive everyone home and make sure everyone ended the night safely, especially you. You usually didn’t get too crazy but Alexia would still always make sure that you stayed hydrated and made it home in one piece. 

“Hey Claudia, can I have my girlfriend back?” You giggled as Alexia pulled you into her side, watching as the younger girl raised her hands in self defense. Now that everyone had arrived, you all started your night with a few rounds of shots. 

At some point, you had ended up on your girlfriend’s lap as you talked with some of your team. Alexia's hand was snaked around your waist, holding you against her tightly. At times she’d settle her chin on your shoulder or place a kiss to it, whispering more compliments in your ear. 

“Ale, I hear you’re having fun tonight, how many drinks in are you?” Mapi basically shouted as she tried to talk to your girlfriend who offered no response. “Ale?” still nothing. “Alexia!” 

You turned your head over your shoulder to see Alexia finally snap out of whatever daze she had been in. “Que?” For once, she seemed to have no idea what was going on which made you and the rest of the table laugh. 

“Quit staring at your girl! You’re forgetting about the rest of us!” Mapi looked at her with exasperation, basically whining. “You never get drunk with us so when you finally do you’re not allowed to ignore us. Come on, we’re dancing!” Mapi stood up quickly and the rest of the table seemed to be in agreement as everyone dispersed. In the process, someone had pushed another drink into your girlfriend's hand, hoping to see her really let loose tonight.

You looked at Alexia, prepared to try to convince her to join the others. Surprisingly, she spoke before you could, “well, let’s go dance, amor.” 

Your eyes went wide as you did nothing to hide the shock from your face, “really?” 

“I like looking at you, especially when you’re dancing. And I know you like it, so I want to have fun with you.” Your heart melted hearing her words. She would do anything for you and she was constantly showing you that. 

Alexia gave your hips a gentle squeeze as she helped push you up so you could pull her to the dance floor. Some of your friends let out a cheer at the rare sight of their oh-so-professional captain joining in on the fun. You were facing her as you both swayed your hips to the music, taking in the moment. You felt all your worries and responsibilities melt away as you got lost in the bass pulsing through you. 

The blonde’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you continued to move against each other. “Dios mio, you look amazing,” she all but groaned in your ear as she continued to stare at you. Her words had slurred slightly, finally noticing the effects of the alcohol setting in. Because of how rarely she drank, it apparently didn’t take much for her to get drunk as she practically whined at you, “amor, let’s go get another drink.” Alexia was tugging at your arm, already starting to pull you towards the bar. 

“How about some water first and then another drink,” you tried your best to bargain with her, not trying to get her too trashed. Your girlfriend nodded at you eagerly, before continuing to pull you to the bar. You caught up with her and wrapped an arm around her waist when she stumbled slightly. You decided that you weren’t going to be doing any more drinking yourself, instead focusing on taking care of Alexia. She had done it a million times for you so it was only fair that you took a turn. 

When the two of you reached the bar, the Catalan pulled you into her, holding you against her in a makeshift hug. “Estas Bien, Ale?” If you were being the responsible one for the night, it seemed important to check in, especially when she was being clingier than normal. She typically didn’t show you this level of affection when the team was around, trying to keep it professional.

Alexia hummed, satisfied with the night so far. “I’m so proud of you. You know that right?” Once again, your girlfriend was always giving you praise, no matter what the circumstances were. 

“Of course I do, I-” The two of you were interrupted by the bartender passing you your drinks (including Alexia’s water). You guided her back over to your table, hoping to give her a bit of a break before she continued. 

“I just hope you know how proud of you I am. You’re the reason we won today, amor.” She looked deeply into your eyes, willing you to believe her words. “You just work so hard and I’m so glad you signed with us. You’ve been playing better than I’ve ever seen you play before and it’s all because of the hard work you’ve put in. You impress me so much, amor.” It almost looked like she was going to start crying with the way she looked at you. So serious but also opening up further thanks to the alcohol. 

“Ale, I couldn’t have done any of it without your help. You’re the one that’s been pushing me and making me better.” She responded with a shake of the head before drinking some of the water you passed to her. She downed the glass quickly, before facing you again. 

Her forehead pressed against yours as she continued her praise, “You know I love you, right? I love your voice and I love how you listen to me and let me talk and I love how you take care of me and how you focus on the things that you love and I really just love you, okay? I love everything about you. So much.” Her rambling left her slightly out of breath as she leaned into you further. 

“Alexia Putellas I love you so so much,” you barely had words for all you were feeling. There weren’t words to express how much you loved the woman in front of you. How much you appreciated and admired her. “Do you think we should get you home, Ale? Hesitancy was clear in your voice. It’s not like she was wasted or anything but by her standards, she wasn’t far off. Being the one in charge of taking care of her, you were sure to take your job seriously just as your girlfriend always did for you. 

“Noooooo,” Alexia suddenly sat up much straighter, trying to keep herself from swaying. “Can we dance a while longer? Por favor? Then we can go home after that.” Her pleas instantly convinced you as you smiled at her and placed a short kiss to her nose. 

Your girlfriend giggled at your kiss which only triggered you to pepper a series of short kisses all over her face. She continued to giggle at you similarly to how a baby would respond to being tickled. As she often did, Alexia playfully pushed your face to the side, calming herself down slightly. “Amor, come dance,” she whined at you while pulling at your arm. Her unusually child-like behavior earned a chuckle from you as you stood up and followed her back to the dance floor. 

Alexia stumbled and swayed a bit more as she made her way back to where some of the team still resided. You held onto her tightly, keeping her safe while still letting her have a bit more fun. 

“Ale’s drunk!!!” Pina shouted as she jumped around you. Upon hearing this, cheers immediately erupted from the group. Alexia smacked Pina in the back of the head before also joining in the cheering. At that, the entire group erupted, everyone jumping and grinding against whoever was closest. Seeing your girlfriend finally let herself go filled everyone with joy. The whole group loved it but it was different for you. You had seen her at her lowest of lows. You knew how much she deserved this. How much she needed to relax like this. Especially when normally she was the one making sure everyone else was taken care of, it was nice that she finally got a turn. 

This newfound surge of energy was entertaining for everyone. At one point, you found her trying to twerk against you which you made no effort to stop. Grabbing her hips from behind, you only encouraged her as some of the others cheered her on. You’d stop her if she did anything too embarrassing but you’d let it slide for now. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already seen the rest of you embarrass yourselves. It only seemed fair. 

Mapi joined Alexia with two more drinks, one for each of them. You quickly decided that it’d be your girlfriend’s final drink of the night as you watched them have a contest to see who could chug faster. When Alexia won she immediately cheered for herself before giving Mapi a playful shove. Her best friend was clearly just as drunk as she was when she stumbled directly into Ingrid, barely able to hold herself up. Your girlfriend wasn’t doing much better, also tripping as she tried to celebrate her “win” with you. 

Ingrid shared a look with you as you both held up your extremely inebriated girlfriends, deciding it was time to get them home before they could do anything else. You put in for an Uber as you started trying to get your girlfriend ready to go. You wrapped your arm around Alexia’s waist, trying to steady her as best you could. She was slightly taller than you and quite a bit stronger which made holding her more difficult than you expected. Normally she was the one carrying you out of the club after a long night. 

“Here I got her,” Patri appeared out of nowhere, coming to your rescue. Sure she was drunk but nothing like your girlfriend. Between the two of you, you managed to get her outside just as your Uber was arriving. Alexia’s head came to lie on your shoulder, all but putting her entire weight against you despite Patri being significantly stronger than you. Of course Patri had to take a minute to laugh at you struggling to carry your girlfriend before finally helping you and getting your girlfriend settled into the backseat next to you. You gave her a quick thanks before the car started back towards your shared home. 

You didn’t even realize that your girlfriend was still awake until she lifted her head from your shoulder slightly, “I love you so much, amor.” Her words were barely recognizable between how heavily her words slurred together along with how her accent had thickened. You gave her a soft smile though, touched by the sentiment as well as how she still made sure to use your native language, no matter how drunk she was. “I don’t feel like I tell you that enough.”

“Ale, you definitely tell me enough, I promise.” You smiled at the thought- she was quite literally always telling you how much she loved you. Like nonstop. Constantly. 

Alexia’s head shook slightly before landing back on your shoulder. “I should tell you that more. You know if there was ever anyone who was made for me, it’d be you for sure.” Her words turned somewhat incoherent by the end of her sentence before her eyes fluttered shut. You pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. You knew you’d be in for a rough morning with her tomorrow but for now all you could do was revel in her words. It didn’t matter if she was drunk or sober or in front of her friends- Alexia would never stop confessing her love for you and you would never stop appreciating that.

Perfect. A.Bonmati. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll. Giving/receiving gifts.

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

Masterlist

[empress-simps]

Heart Chaser

Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament

Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!

James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.

He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.

“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.

“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”

Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.

“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”

“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.

“Why you little- “

“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”

Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.

“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.

Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.

“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.

“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?

 “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”

Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.

“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.

“Anything for you, Y/n.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.

“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”

Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did you find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.

“No- “

“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.

James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”

“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”

You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)

Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”

“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”

The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”

You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly.  “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.

He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.

Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.

“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.

“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.

James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”

Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.

James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.

[charliedawn]

GOT characters x Reader

"Please. Dance with me."

Sandor Clegane :

Sandor was standing near the exit—ready to call it a night. He was tired of seeing all those high borns dancing and getting drunk on expensive Dornish wine. But when he was about to leave, he felt an arm wrap around his and looked down to find you—clinging to his arm. He was about to ask what the hell you were doing when he noticed how terrified you seemed.

"Please…Don’t let him take me."

You were on the verge of tears. He looked in the direction you were staring at and found some lord with a sleazy smile on his face. He was walking your way and Sandor instinctively raised his hand to clasp it on your arm.

"The lady’s taken. Piss off."

He felt you tense up next to him, but his hand on top of your arm kept you in place as the man decided to finally leave. Once he was gone, you wanted to thank him…But, Sandor pulled away and walked away.

…He needed a drink.

Daenerys Targaryen:

When a man offered you a dance, you smiled and tried to politely decline the offer. But, the man wasn’t having no for an answer. Finally, he grabbed your arm as you were about to leave. Fortunately, Daenerys arrived just in time and stood between the both of you.

"I believe she has been quite clear. She doesn’t want to dance with you."

The man was about to protest, but quickly reconsidered. He left and you let out a sigh of relief. But, as you were about to thank her, Daenerys turned towards you with a soft smile before offering you her hand.

"Would you like to dance with me instead ?"

Her hand was opened invitingly and her eyes showed nothing but good will. So, you took her hand with a smile.

"I would be honoured, khaleesi."

Ser Jorah :

"Would you dance with me, Ser Jorah?"

Jorah looked up at your hand and was about to politely decline your offer when he noticed your uneasy smile and the other man standing a few feet away behind you. He immediately understood the situation and smiled before taking your hand.

"It would be an honour, my lady."

He kissed the back of your hand and you smiled before being led away. You swayed left and tight slowly together and even though Ser Jorah only wanted to dance to help you—he found himself enjoying it as well. You closed your eyes and didn’t even think about your 'problem'.

You just enjoyed the dance until the very last moment when you had to part.

"Thank you."

Whether it was you or him who said it first—neither of you could tell.

Brienne of Tarth :

Brienne had just won her final battle for the tournament organised by your father. She had put to the ground many of your father’s best knights and when her face was revealed…You were immediately impressed. A woman of such strength on your side would surely end in a successful alliance.

So, you waited.

You waited and when it was time to celebrate, your eyes landed on the fiercest woman who had succeeded in defeating most fighters of the court. Her eyes didn’t settle on you however.

You felt a little disappointed by it, but the night was far from over. You tried again and again to get her to see you, but she always seemed to escape your sight. Finally, you decided to give up and sit down. But, you then felt a hand land on your shoulder and when you looked up, you found one of your father’s choices staring down at you with a malicious smile.

You tried to tell him no. He ignored your request.

But, he finally listened when the woman you had been trying to talk to suddenly appeared behind you in all her armoured glory. She didn’t need to speak a word as the man immediately released you and walked away.

"Are you alright, my lady ?" She asked you and you replied with a smile of your own.

"I am now."

Jon Snow :

Many people had warned you about Jon Snow. Some called him the King of the North—others a demon. You weren’t really interested in rumours though, but by the truth.

Hence, you had accepted to go and meet with him.

A war was brewing and you knew that strong allies were necessary. However, when you found yourself in front of the man who claimed to be Jon Snow, you immediately knew it couldn’t be him. The man before you couldn’t possibly be the King of the North. He wasn’t a giant. He wasn’t heavily armed. Or looked like a living dead. He seemed…normal.

"I am Jon Snow."

"..."

You looked him up and down.

Before he could say another word, you threw a dagger at him and he didn’t even flinch as it landed in a tree behind him. You both stared at each other for a minute until you finally smiled.

That man was Jon Snow.

For you saw no fear of death in his eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, my King." You introduced yourself and bowed before him. "…The man who danced with Death and survived."

Tyrion Lannister:

"No."

Tyrion was aware of your situation. He knew perfectly well of the unfortunate circumstances of your upcoming betrothal. But…He couldn’t bring you even more dishonour by agreeing to dancing with you.

"Do not look so disappointed, my lady. Even though I am sure you are quite lovely, I wish you to spare yourself the humiliation of dancing with an imp."

Such harsh words which ignited a general hilarity that made you red in the face with fury. But, not against Tyrion. You didn’t blame him for his refusal. You knew how it sounded and the pain behind such a request. But, you didn’t want to give up. So…You did something that no person had ever dared. You knelt before him—your eyes staring at the floor in respect.

"I see no imp. I see a valorous and just prince. And I still wish to dance with you. Please."

It made the crowd around you fall silent. Tyrion’s eyes widened and he seemed speechless for a while. But, he finally smiled before slowly reaching for your chin to lift it up so your eyes may meet.

"…Don’t you lower your gaze. You hold more bravery and wit than anyone else in this room. And if that is truly your wish ? Then I would be more than happy to dance with you."

Jaime Lannister:

You were sitting down when you felt a presence in front of you as you ate. Your eyes looked up to find your ‘fiancé'. He was looking at you with such disgust that all food got stuck in your throat. You knew it was but an arranged marriage, but everyone knew that your betrothed hated your family with passion. Your eyes glanced away and met with another man. He smiled at you. You smiled back.

Unfortunately, your betrothed caught the exchange and suddenly grabbed your arm—ready to strike. But before he could as much as lay a finger on you, the tip of a sword was pressed against his throat.

The room fell silence as none other than Jaime Lannister had come to your rescue.

"I believe this is no way to treat a woman—even less a lady."

He then sat down next to you and smiled before eating next to you—an arm wrapped around you. The message was clear. And the man left.

"…You will get in trouble for this." You warned him, but Jaime replied with a cocky smile.

"I am a Lannister. And lions are not scared of insects."

Oberyn Martell :

You were trying to leave the party. This was too much. A man was persistently trying to get a dance with you, but you didn’t want to dance with a man who surely did not care about you. You were almost there when you collided with another man who grabbed you before you could fall to the floor.

You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw who it was.

"Prince Oberyn of Dorne…" You gasped and the man gave you a small smile before looking behind you at the man following you.

"Is this man bothering you, my lady ?"

You gulped and suddenly took his hand. If you were to say anything, your father would blame you.

"Please. Would you dance with me, Prince of Dorne ?" You asked and the man following you seethed.

"You were promised a dance with m—!"

"I believe the lady asked ME for a dance." Oberyn cut him off with his usual charismatic smile. "Unless your title happens to also be Prince of Dorne."

The man huffed before walking away and you let out a sigh of relief. You were about to leave when Prince Oberyn grabbed your wrist.

"Now now…Where are you going, little sunflower ?"

You frowned in incomprehension until Oberyn smiled again and pulled you flush against him.

"…I believe you owe me a dance."

Peter Baelish (Littlefinger) :

Lord Baelish had had your eyes on you for a while and he knew that being part of your powerful family would be extremely valuable. Hence, he asked your father for your hand. But, there were too many contenders for him to even be considered as a good choice. So…He observed you.

You were young, but promising as you danced with grace and proper etiquette with all your possible choices. But, he could see right through you. You weren’t exactly happy to be here. And when one of your possible betrothed stepped on your foot.

He stepped in.

He took your hand and almost pulled you away from the man. You were about to thank him, but Baelish had other plans.

"What will you give me for my rescue ?" Baelish asked you. You sighed. Of course he’d want a reward for acting like the hero he wasn’t.

"What do you want ?"

Baelish seemed to think about it before offering you his hand with a smirk.

"A dance."

Your eyes stared at his hand suspiciously. But, at this point ? You would have accepted anyone’s help in order to escape. He pulled you flush against him and started dancing with you. Your eyes widened as he led you away to the center or the room.

He knew everyone could see the both of you, but he didn’t stop—not even when you tried to pull away.

"Lord Baelish…That’s enough."

Your father tried to stop him, but Lord Baelish only smirked before surprising everyone by kissing you. Your eyes widened and you were momentarily took off guard. When he pulled away, he smirked before glancing challengingly at your father.

"Now…About my wedding proposal ?"

Sansa Stark :

"My lady…Would you please give me the chance of a dance ?" You asked Sansa who hesitated for a moment before smiling and slipping her hand in yours. You smiled before kissing the back of it and led her to the dance floor. Sansa had always wished for someone to take her hand and make her feel like a princess.

She had first thought Joffrey to be the one, but that felt like eons ago. She had long learned her mistake. But, it didn’t mean she didn’t still wish for someone to make her remember what it felt like when her innocence and virtue were still recognised.

And you were more than happy to make her remember who she used to be.

"You are beautiful." You told her truthfully and she smiled.

She even graced you with a small chuckle as you made her twirl and made sure not to touch her that might trigger her in any way. After her awful treatment under Ramsay, you only wanted her to feel at ease. At peace.

And she knew it.

When she looked at you and a smile graced her lips—your heart seemed to skip a beat.

The pretty wolf was still a stealer of hearts, and you couldn’t wait for her to devour yours.

[sleepingdeath-light]

having a gomez and morticia-esque dynamic with his fem overlord s/o hcs ; alastor

requested by ; anonymous (15/02/24)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; alastor

outline ; “So good to have you back!

Can I request Alastair with an fem Overlord! Reader? Like they have a relationship similar to Morticia and Gomez Addams, especially when Mortica says “Don’t torture yourself Gomez, that’s my job.” Reader is just elegant and classy in a sense with her man 👀”

note ; there are some potentially (very mildly) ooc bits here and there for the sake of filling the prompt, but otherwise this is exactly what the outline requested as best as i could write it lol ^^

warning(s) ; references to canon-typical levels of violence, but mostly fluff!

the two of you are, to put it bluntly, a match made in hell — which is rather fitting as your first meeting occurred in hell itself shortly after alastor’s reign of terror as ‘the radio demon’ had first began

very few people are aware that the two of you are in a relationship, or that you know each other at all, and that’s simply because neither of you see the point in broadcasting your attachments and personal lives to the entirety of hell — your husband may be an egotistical radio broadcaster with a kill count that most sinners can only dream of achieving, but he preferred to keep his private life private and your marriage was just one of those things

(of course rosie is keenly aware of the two of you and teases alastor relentlessly, and lovingly, for how utterly in love with you he is — but he lets it slide because he knows she means well and wouldn’t dream of causing you harm)

but when you’re together it’s plainly obvious, even to those who don’t know you well at all, that the two of you are deeply obsessed with each other — that’s mainly down to your unusual, and yet somehow not at all surprising for the two of you, displays of affection which most would find deeply off putting

of course your alastor is a gentleman and can appreciate the more traditional romantic displays — he never fails to greet you with a kiss on the back of your hand and a bouquet of the finest flora hell has to offer, and he’s always ready to offer you his jacket if you complain about the weather — but it doesn’t just stop at those more ‘normal’ acts (something that you come to be more and more grateful for as your relationship progresses from courting to dating to something resembling marriage without all of the formal paperwork)

there are displays of affection that are more reliant on his more cannibalistic side, for one: diligently licking any and all of your wounds clean whilst earnestly complimenting the rich flavour of your blood (after dealing with whichever poor soul decided to go after you in the first place), talking cheerily about all of the ways he’d prepare your flesh if ever you let him (and listening with rapt attention as you discussed your own plans for any errant limbs or slabs of flesh that he may lose in battle), making sure to get to rosie’s cafè as early as possible to ensure that you only get the best of your favourite baked treats, and staring hungrily down at you as you gingerly wipe the blood from his lips and cheeks with your fingers and lick them clean in a way that most anyone else would find disturbing

there are shows of love that lean more into your mutual sadistic tendencies: kissing sweetly whilst the blood of your victims is still fresh on your skin and clothes, slow dancing to whatever song he’s broadcasting from his radio on top of the corpses of your slain targets, wistfully admiring each other as you rage and show your full demonic forms to anyone who dared to cross you (a precursor for plenty of compliments and private affection later on, i’m sure), and you stepping forward and coaxing him out of a violent episode by insisting that he should torture you instead with that sweet tone of voice that you know he can’t say ‘no’ to

there are acts that are a mixture of the three — such as you calling each other the sweetest pet names in a mixture of your spoken languages (‘love’, ‘cher’, ‘dearest’, etc.) before going on to say something truly monstrous that would have everyone else in earshot staring with a mixture of horror and disgust, or him taking you out to get your tailored clothes repaired since he so loves taking care of you after a spat with another (now likely very dead) overlord left your clothes torn in places and stained with all sorts of viscera

and, of course, amongst all of that you can guarantee that alastor is being nothing short of encouraging, adoring, and protective over you (read: quick to threaten anyone who intends to cause you harm into silence and slaughtering anyone who refuses to comply with that warning) and your honour as you go about your life as an overlord alongside him — he knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but he was raised to be a gentleman and he’s certainly not going to stop being one just because he happened to go to hell

truly, it’s like the two of you were made for each other

[togrowoldinv]

Best Closers In The City

Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.

You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.

You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.

And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.

But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.

Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.

When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.

“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.

She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.

“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”

You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.

“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.

“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.

“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.

“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.

“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”

You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.

You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.

“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.

Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.

“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.

“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”

You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.

When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.

They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.

She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.

You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”

Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.

“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.

She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.

“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”

Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.

“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”

There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.

Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.

After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.

“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.

When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.

Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.

“It’s beautiful,” you comment.

“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.

You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.

“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.

“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”

“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.

“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”

“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.

“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”

“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”

“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.

You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.

“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”

You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.

“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.

Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.

“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”

Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.

“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”

“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.

“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.

“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”

“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”

You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.

“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”

“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.

When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.

“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.

You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.

Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.

“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.

“I do,” you say. “Can I?”

She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.

You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.

“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.

Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.

“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.

“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.

You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.

Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”

You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.

“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”

Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.

“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”

“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.

When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.

“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”

You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.

“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.

“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.

It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.

“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.

“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.

You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.

“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.

You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.

After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.

She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.

“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.

“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.

“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.

She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.

“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.

“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.

“I did.”

“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”

“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.

“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.

“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.

“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”

“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.

“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.

You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.

This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.

[kookslastbutton]

Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

part one | part two

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞 lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 ☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[midnightarcheress]

Simon thinks he could live like this.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: nothing he's just down bad 7 | gold rush masterlist.

“are you insane?!” Daniel shouts, slamming the door behind him and stomping his feet towards Simon with a menacing look, “you think you can just move her around like this?”

“she wasn’t safe in that house, this is for her protection,” he answers promptly, crossing his arms and taking a step in front of you, covering your frame from the irate man. if he could, he’d land a punch on his face in no time, not caring that technically he’s his boss.

“yeah? and you simply have to be here with her, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. you watch the scene unfold from behind Simon, brows knitted together and bottom lip nearly bleeding from biting too much. he’d managed to momentarily tranquillize you, bring you back to earth after the terrifying panic state, but the anxiety kept simmering underneath your skin, just waiting for another chance to take over your body.

“the shitty security system you put in her house wasn’t enough to prevent the bastard from intrudin’, the bloody alarm didn’t even go off,” he retorts, eyes shooting daggers straight ahead, “so yeah, i’m gonna stay with her for as long as it’s necessary. contract says to protect her, doesn’t it?” 

the two of them stay quiet, a silent staring competition on Daniel’s side, a mere warning on Simon’s side. he won’t budge, won’t allow you to go back to that house, hand you on a silver platter to the grim reaper hiding behind letters and eerie messages. 

Dan leans on his side to look at you, ignoring the mass of a man in front of him. “are you sure about this?” his tone is strangely soft, like a switch flipped in his mind, all anger vanishing. you nod, offering him a small smile that does a poor job of concealing how nervous you are about the situation. he purses his lips, taking one last glance at Simon’s unwavering posture before sighing in defeat.

it’s been two weeks since the mirror message that led Simon into comforting you, and two weeks since he had to control his own panic, trying his best not to spiral. it had been a while since he shared a living space, so staying with you feels like a dream that he’s constantly afraid of turning into a nightmare by saying the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, or even thinking about what’s happening. 

the safe house Price arranged is far from the size you’re used to, being at least three times smaller than your own house. but to his surprise, again, your reaction to it contradicts his expectations. it could just be you being a phenomenal actress, covering your resentment behind a beaming smile, but you seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence easily, didn’t protest once, never lamented the loss of luxury and privacy.

he wanted to deny the feeling, shove it deep down in his brain and lock the safe, but it was nice, the domesticity of it all. it was nice learning little details about your routine; how you only get out of bed the second time your alarm rings; how you’re definitely not a morning person, judging by the gruff good morning you mumble when you slide to the counter stool; how you love trying new recipes and quietly dance in the kitchen, freezing when you notice him watching you; or how you’re always carrying something to read, it being a book or a script.

it was nice making you coffee in the morning and seeing you rub your sleepy eyes, nice hearing you humming a song in the shower, nice catching a glimpse of you in lingerie when you forget to lock your bedroom door, nearly making him choke in his own spit by the sight of the small tattoo on your hip. is it a star? a flower?

he felt like he was playing house with you. a game where you’re his loving wife and he’s a devoted husband, where he could feed his delusions, live everything he was convinced he’d never have in this lifetime. inside those walls, he could do it all, except the one thing he longed the most – touch you. kiss the top of your head when you’re baking in the kitchen, run his fingers through your hair when you’re curled up on the couch, feel your soft skin under his fingertips when you lay in bed, bend you over the table when you pass by him in skimpy pyjama shorts.

“do you... wanna watch a movie?” you ask, remote in hand and head leaned back on the sofa, chewing the inside of your cheek and attentively glaring at the television. he tilts to the side, stirring his thoughts away and taking in the view of your features illuminated by the bright lights coming from the screen. it was easy to get lost in how beautiful you were, a magical creature brought to earth to bewitch him. 

your head suddenly shifts to where he’s sitting, and it hits him that you’re still expecting an answer. fuck. “uh, yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snapping back to the telly, swallowing the desires his throat dared to spill.

later that day, Simon steps onto the front porch for a much-needed nicotine fix, dark blues painting the sky as the last rays of sunlight vanish from the horizon. he hates the burning sensation of the smoke in his lungs, but always craves the lightheadedness and dopamine flush in his veins, no matter how many years it takes from his life. 

“god!” you jump, looking behind you and putting a hand over your chest to steady your rapid heartbeat, “you really are a ghost, aren’t you?” a chuckle falls from your lips after the startle, travelling the air like a lullaby, and he ignores the flutter in his chest that happens whenever you laugh.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you shrug and turn back to your initial position, sitting on the steps and watching the crunchy tree leaves dancing in the breeze. he follows your gaze to the front lawn, bringing a cigarette from the pack to his lips, debating if he should truly smoke with you in there. you never complained, but he’s caught you frowning at the thin cardboard a few times around the house, so he decides not to light it.

“can i ask you something?” you blurt out, lifting your chin to face him, eyes searching for his, and his head dips, irises focusing on yours. one brow raises at your sudden curiosity and he nods, back propped against the column, waiting, “why Ghost?”

his jaw tenses, gaze shifting from you to the carton in his hands. the ever-dreaded question. “dunno. just a nickname.” lie. he couldn’t tell you how everything was taken from him and he faked his death years ago; how he truly became the ghost of man. you don’t deserve to be burdened with that knowledge, so it is just a nickname. 

he looks back to you, gauging if you bought his deflection or not. you’re still focused on him, vision flicking at every crease of his expression, waiting for any falter, but it doesn’t come. “you can call me Simon.”

the thin line of your lips breaks into a smile, cheeks rising and making his heart skip a beat. so much for easy detachment, “okay, Simon.”

the way i still have at least ten parts of this story in my outline but i'm so unmotivated to write it :(

[myouicieloz]

Collide

Huh Yunjin x 6th member!reader

Synopsis: you can’t take your eyes off her, specially when she’s dancing. thankfully, yunjin makes sure to put up a show for you.

Warnings: suggestivee. safe for work ma babes ^^

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: I SHALL PERSEVERE. fuckass writers block 😤. i will noooooot proofread this ^^

“Oh my God. Are you ok?” Yunjin asks, turning her attention away from her choreography as soon as she catches you desperately choking on water.

You throw your phone on the other side of the couch— as well as the bottle you were holding, in hopes of controlling the coughing fit that has you shaking rather violently. Still trying to gasp for air, you manage to nod, thumbs up to let Yunjin know you’ll most likely live.

“Just fine.” Your voice comes in between breaths, still accompanied by weakened coughs. “I drank too much at once.”

She giggles, walking towards the couch so you can sit side by side. You make sure to grab your phone back so your bandmate doesn’t reckon the cause of your coughing fit: scrolling through TikTok, you found a fan cam of the red-haired girl performing at their showcase just days ago.

Her bare waist, tight cropped and low-waisted jeans were enough for you to breathe in deeply, looking anywhere in the empty room but at her; carefully to not be reminded of the sin that was your bandmate’s body. Not only that, but the way she moved, too— sharp and flawless, skilled as she played with her hair and bit her lip while looking at the damn camera. Yunjin is well aware of how hot she is, and she sure as hell makes good use of that when performing.

It’s torture.

“Are you sure?” She frowns, and it’d be adorable if your mind wasn’t clouded by how she’d react if you just pushed her down the small sofa and ruined her relentlessly until someone had to barge in, worried about the screams coming from the room— only to find her whimpering under your touch, begging for more. “Your face is all flushed, and your skin feels hot. Y/n, are you sick?”

You shake your head, doing your best to duck from your bandmate’s attentive touches. It’s comforting to have her hand cupping your cheek, but her touches are electrifying. A single brush of her fingers is and your heart skips a beat, along with a familiar ache that starts growing in your core.

“It’s nothing, unnie. Don’t worry.” Her smile is so pretty. She loves to be loved by you. “You might want to take a small break, though. Come on, you’ve been here for hours already! Don’t push yourself too hard.” You offer, even though it’s obvious she’s going to decline. Yunjin’s too much of a perfectionist, so much so that it’s incredibly common to find her in that same practice room during late hours of the night, rehearsing the group’s choreography so she’ll be nothing but perfect once they go on stage.

The hate train Lesserafim’s been receiving has been getting to her, you know it as much. It’s easy to see in her chapped-off nails, disheveled hair, and how she never stays still, due to the amount of coffee she consumes on a single day. She’s too hard on herself, and you wish she’d open up more. How much better would it be if she just didn’t bottle it up so much, and relied on you instead? You’re bandmates, after all.

Touchy as she’s always been, Yunjin grabs your hand and leads you to the middle of the dance room, in front of the mirror. You’re left standing awkwardly, with a confused face until she rushes back with a chair. “Actually, I needed your help with something.” She gestures for you to sit, which you do. “It’s my turn to record something for TikTok, and manager-im asked it to be a dancing piece. Can you tell me if it’s good?”

You gulp when she launches her jacket lazily onto the ground, setting up her song of choice on her phone. The beat starts slow as the singer’s sweet voice echoes through the room, and Yunjin walks towards you in unhurried, precise steps. There’s not enough air, with all your mind clogged by her, and you can feel the slick dripping from your cunt. Once she finally reaches you… it’s insane. Her fingers brush your collarbone, the shadow of a proper touch has you shivering as she places both of her hands on your elbows and pushes herself down, her hips swirling just as the melody drags on— you can’t do anything but hold her by the hips, adding pressure to her rocking back and forth in your lap.

Her covered cunt brushes against yours and it’s the best feeling you’ve ever experienced; it feels heavenly, to have the friction just right where you need it. Yunjin’s arms go up in an arched movement, leaving her pretty neck all exposed. It’d be so easy to just push her in and suck on her porcelain skin until no makeup could hide such hickeys. Along with the song, she breathes in, which rides her crop top enough that you can see her lack of a bra.

It’s borderline painful: the way her actions lit your body on fire, the desperate need for more, the way she does a hair flip, still so attentive to the music you don’t even hear anymore. The only bang in your head comes from the pleasure building up down in your lower abdomen, waiting. Anticipating.

Yunjin grabs you by the neck just as the chorus hits, brushing her mouth against yours. She makes her way down to your neck, teasing her teeth against your clavicle whilst her other hand toys with the hem of your sweatpants, tapping in the right rhythm. “Do you want it?”

“More than anything.” Your response comes immediately. You’re soaked, and there’s nothing more in the world you want more than for her to touch you. “Please, Jen… Want your fingers inside.”

Yunjin is always eager to please, and you’re so glad for that. Her hand makes her way past your panties, and she smirks once she’s met with the mess you’ve made. “Does my dancing turn you on that much?” Her sultry tone does nothing but entice your moans, “Oh, Y/n… that’s pathetic.”

In any other situation, you’d give her mockery an answer just as filthy. But as her fingers brush your slit, gathering slick as Yunjin uses your juices to press her thumb on your clit, you can only muster a loud whine. Tangling your arms under her neck, you lift your hips a bit further, in hopes of having more.

More. It’s all you want. You need more.

“Jen, f-fuck. Please, I need—“ Two of her fingers enter your cunt unannounced, making you grasp. Yunjin’s movements are just as precise as her choreography, thrusting in and helping with the ache in your pussy right where you need it.

You’re not proud of how lewd you sound, all at your bandmate’s mercy as she fastens her pace on your dripping sex. She’s still in your lap, and the combined pressure feels just perfect.

Yunjin’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses in the valley of your boobs, her wet, cherry lips enticing the fire in your body. “I know what you need, baby. Just let go for me, you can do it.”

One command of hers and the tingling sensation that has been building up in your body explodes, allowing you to feel the wave of pleasure you’ve been so eagerly anticipating from the moment you entered the room. You cum with a high cry, with Yunjin’s fingers going even faster as you ride out from your orgasm. It’s not enough, though — you still need more. You think she’s going to give it to you, but your friend’s fingers retreat completely.

Yunjin’s left you a breathless mess, hot and bothered and just so desperate to have her in any way as you stare at her, hopeless and confused.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, puting.

Yunjin laughs at the sight of your puppy eyes, so big and watery from frustration.

“Because that was it.” Her answer is resolute as if she didn’t make you cum seconds prior. With a fake frown, she adds, “Should I post it? Is it good enough?”

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip as your hands find their way to her waist, bringing her to your lap once again. Even the smallest amount of friction _hurts_, from how horny you are, and you wince.

Noticing your struggles, Yunjin giggles as she leaves small, wet kisses on your jaw. You decide to play coy, too, “Not at all. In fact, I think you need a lot more practice. Go again, from the beginning… please?”

Yunjin laughs so hard she drops her head back, pinching your nose. “Sure, baby. I think so too.”

You kiss her again, exploring your way into her pretty mouth as your hands lift her shirt, groping her tits. Yunjin makes an effort to be perfect, and you’re so glad for her hard work.

“Oh, and Y/n?” She calls you, her tone all innocent. Yunjin’s lips are addicting, and she’s such a good kisser… it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. You hum in acknowledgment, and that seems to be enough for her, “You should lower your phone’s brightness before watching my thirsty edits, next time.”

You’d for sure choke again, if it weren’t for her devious laugh, silencing your shock with her sultry movements on your lap.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[lucifers-rubber-duck]

hazbin crew with a reader that's having a love surge. it means to where their like jumping or just fidgeting and giggling and just really wanting affection and when they get it (like a hug or something) their just so giddy about it afterwards

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious & Lucifer.

Warnings: They/Them pronouns used for Reader.

A/N: I researched to know more about it and man, why were people so mean to that poor couple, they were just being sweet. Thanks for the ask anon and sorry if I wrote a love surge wrong.

𖤓Charlie

• She easily notices the way you're fidgety, your legs are moving even though you're sitting quietly, you have a smile on your face and she gets a little worried.

• “Is everything okay Reader? You look unquiet.”; you proceed to try and explain what a love surge is and will tell her not to worry.

• Her eyes shine with the new information, she just can't help but few proud when anyone at the hotel open up about anything, especially if is something she can help with.

• She'll ask if she can give you a hug to easy you, you immediately say yes, you're earning for any kind of affection at this point and oh boy, do you get it. Charlie totally gives the best hugs in the world and she gives one extra tight to you.

• Your legs kick a little more in excitement before you completely melt on her arms, putting your head on her shoulder and giggling like a idiot, she sits there and waits until you feel better again.

• She'll be always looking out to see if you're having a love surge again and will offer a hug everytime, you don't have to worry about it alone anymore.

𖤓Vaggie

• Is extremely confused at first, she thinks your having some sort of epilepsy attack by the way you're moving your arms.

• When you explain she's clearly still a little confused but doesn't seem as judgmental as you thought she would be, you wonder if maybe Charlie experiences that too, that's why she's so chill about it.

• She's not the best with physical affection, she's more the one to show love through actions so she would probably ask Charlie to do the hugging part while she makes sure you're feeling alright.

• One day you would be having another love surge, and couldn't help but hug her from behind. At first you were one second away from being tossed to the ground by surprising her, but when she notices it's you she calms down more and decides to stay quiet while you put your love out.

• You swear you saw her blush after being hugged but you're too busy with your arms around her and resting your head on the top of her head to care too much, you just want to enjoy the moment, since it probably won't happen again.

𖤓Alastor

• He's the most confused man on the world, he does not get why you are so unquiet and giggling to yourself, he thinks you're going totally insane.

• If somehow, out of curiosity, he asks you what's going on and listens to your explanation, he won't see very impressed.

• He doesn't know really how to make you feel better in those moments, he's not a big fan of showing or receiving affection. He would talk to Rosie about it and she would say that he should at least try and help you.

• He's giving you small taps on the head, maybe swinging you around when he finds a opportunity to dance, he's trying his best and that's just enough for you.

• The down side to him is that after a while, every time he shows you affection after a love surge, you hold onto him like a koala to a tree and he won't find the courage to tell you to leave, he's being too soft with you and that makes him annoyed.

• “So, what's up with you two?” Husker would ask one day with a smug on his face. “I would shut up if I was you, Husker my friend.” Alastor growls back, with a smiling Reader holding him by the waist on a hug.

𖤓Husker

• Would probably notice you're having a love surge before anyone else, he's good a reading people, he may not know the exact name, but he'll be the first to confront you about it.

• He's very open minded and understands what you mean, he understands what you're probably feeling in those times even if he doesn't shows it. He keeps small details on the back of his mind, so he always knows how to act around certain people.

• When you're having a love surge, he'll call you to the bar, sit by your side and pull you close with his wings. He won't say a word or do more than that, he'll keep drinking his cheap booze, he won't stop you from cuddling in him.

• Don't get too cocky tho, as much as he enjoys seeing you all giggly and feeling comfortable he won't let you rub his ears or let you touch his tail, he has boundaries and won't let you break then. He'll let you brush your fingers through his feathers if you ask very nicely.

• You two could probably be found sleeping in the bar’s counter a few hours later, you because all your energy was drained out by his affection and him because he got way to drunk, face probably smacked into the counter.

𖤓Angel

• When he sees you jumping he also thinks you're going insane; when you explain to him he laughs and makes a rude joke about it.

• He stops laughing when he notices that you were actually sad because of his joke, you normally aren't affected by his jokes, you know it's his way to show he cares but that one made you feel down because it's something you already don't have much confidence about.

• He looks at your sad face before sighing and pulling you to a side hug with one of his four arms. You looked surprised at him, mainly because this feels like a genuine shown of affection and he rarely gives anyone those, but hey, you're not complaining.

• I like to believe he would also give you quick kisses on the top of your head, he pretends it's because he's trying to mess with you or that is just a lazy way to do his flirting but you can feel there's something more about it, especially because he smiles when you giggle with his kisses.

• Recovering your energy after a love surge while sleeping on his fluffy chest is something that happens a lot too, that's simply the best pillow in the world, what can you do?

𖤓Niffty

• She doesn't understand very well what do you mean and probably is the one that least cares, she's already very affectionate with you! Well… in her own way.

• She'll just keep doing what she already does and climb you like a tree, give you gifts made out of bugs, clean you with her duster and sit on your lap once and a while.

• Even that is already enough for you to feel so loved that you feel yourself just giddy while gently holding her in your arms, she's (kinda) the side of a teddy bear and is the best one to hug.

• She would also show affection in these moments by climbing on the couch and making your hair in different hairstyles, brushing and putting accessories on it until you're a giggly mess, she finds your reactions funny.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• The first time he sees you fidgeting he's very confused, but different from everyone, he wouldn't ask you at first what was happening, he would go to Charlie to see if she knew what was wrong.

• “What's wrong with them?”; “I don't know… hey! Why won't we make it our next exercise? Communication is the key to be a good person and to reach redemption, so, go there and try to be communicative with them.”

• When he finally asks you about it, he's a little surprised to hear the answer, he doesn't know how to react to it very well but doesn't ask you what he can do to help, he's going to discover himself, he's a genius after all! Guess he already forgot about the communication exercise.

• He reaches the conclusion that hugs and holding hands might help you in those occasions, so he does it! In the most awkward way possible, he practically screams to the whole hotel that he's about to hug you and he's also a blushing mess, he's just not used to it.

• And when you got all giddy about it right after too? He just panicked thinking he did something wrong or hurted you, you have to calm him down and say it's okay and that's just a normal reaction from you.

• Besides being kinda awkward and having no experience showing affection, he's a great hugger and can be a real sweetheart with you, especially when you two are alone, he gets more nervous when there are people around him, he doesn't want to make a fool of himself in front of anyone.

𖤓Lucifer

• When you first tell him about it, he would sort of understand the feeling, there were times when he looked at Lilith and Charlie that he couldn't contain himself and would pull them into a hug or else he felt he could explode of how much love he had for them.

• And because of that he'll let you be as clingy and as affectionate as you need to put all that energy out. He would hug you, let you play with his wings, bake for you and teach you how to build rubber ducks.

• Do I need to say even more how much he's a sucker for physical affection? He's simply in ecstasy to have someone around that loves him so much and that isn't just his daughter.

• Everytime you feel giddy from the love surge, he'll make sure to hold you still so you don't fall, it's like you're drunk of how much love you're receiving.

• There were times were both of you were just exhausted from having a nice time together, he would bring you to his apple tower and cuddle with you until both felt the energy come back.

[yoonivy]

gold rush; part 2.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. none.

author's note. i have no poetic bone in my body so oc's poem is taken from mitski's "your best american girl". enjoy!!!!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

--

This is not how you thought you’ll be spending your first day off in months — with your favorite distressed black tee of your favorite band covered in flour, eggs in your hair, and coloured icing staining your hands. But you suppose there are worse ways to spend your day off, and at least all this hard work will pay off with all the delicious desserts that Sansa is manically making.

And by manic, you are not at all joking in the slightest. 

On every available surface of Sansa’s kitchen, there is at least one tray of some sort of baked goods cooling. Cookies on the kitchen table, banana bread and her favorite lemon cakes on the island, three different flavours of cheesecakes by the sink, and macaron shells currently in the oven. And she’s not even finished! While you are currently decorating the cookies, she is frantically stirring something else in a bowl — by hand, because once again for the 9th time this year, she had broken an electric mixer just a bit earlier. 

There is only one reason Sansa gets like this. There is something troubling her mind. And by the looks of the disaster she made of her kitchen, it’s pretty big. 

She’ll let you know when she’s ready to vent. But for now, you’re just both happy for the company. 

Plus, you’re finally getting a hang of this icing piping thing if you do say so yourself. You stand back, picking up the sea salt caramel chip cookie you finished decorating to proudly show off the cute turtle to Sansa. 

She laughs, offering an excited, “ Awwww!” before she goes back to mixing. 

It’s quiet for a while, both of you concentrated on the task at hand. 

Mayhaps too quiet, you start to think…

That is when you smell something… strange. 

“Oh no!” 

Sansa reacts and jumps on it first, quick to the oven with her mitts, pulling out the tray of charred macaron shells and placing it onto the stove. You stand by her as she slumps in defeat, and you notice she forgot to set the timer she already had ready on the oven. 

From this close, it’s easier to notice how frazzled and disheveled Sansa truly is. Her copper hair is in disarray, falling from her tight bun in many places, her bangs messy against her forehead. Her rosy complexion even more flush than usual. And the bags under her eyes… She has not slept well.   

Meeting your gaze, she lets out a heavy sigh, and finally comes out with it, “Jon asked me out.”

“ Oh… ” You trail off, eyes shifting from side to side. “That’s… that’s it?”

“What?!” Sansa is so shocked that you’re so nonchalant about it. As if she and Jon haven’t been dancing around each other for nearly two years now. “Isn’t that… Isn’t it…” 

You gasp into an over exaggerated worried expression. “Oh no… you’re going to reject him, aren’t you?”

Your poor bestie… Now he is going to be even more sulky than ever. If that’s even possible. 

“I— no! I mean, I want —” Sansa sputters, eyes widening wildly. Then she takes a breath to recollect herself, stares at you for a moment before she claims, “You all knew, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“Even… Robb?”

“I’m pretty sure Robb’s the one that gave him the final push to ask you.”

Sansa groans, face palming. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Yeah, it’s so strange. How very Cersei Lannister of you,” you tease, clearly unserious with your reference to the recent scandal of the high profile actress who was caught having an affair… With her own twin brother, the most booked and busy male model Jaime Lannister. Some say the raunchy videos that leaked were just deep fakes and the twins were the ones who leaked it themselves to hide the fact they both weren’t straight, but many others — like yourself and Sansa — think it’s as real as can be. For the first two weeks when the scandal broke out, you and Sansa kept sending the group chat twitter “proof” threads of clips of the Lannister twins throughout the years (on the red carpet, the photoshoots they often were paired up with together, their own content they would post of one another) to convince your other friends. Needless to say, all the guys left the group chat and would only agree to be added back if the two of you shut the fuck up about it. 

They’re lucky that the star of the reality television show "Keeping Up With The Martells", Arianne Martell, started dating comedian Pete Davidson a week later or else they would have never been added back.

Sansa’s face falls into a silent gasp, and you quickly have to convince her, “I’m joking, Sansa! You and Jon are nothing like them! And plus, cousins dating is not that weird… Aren’t your grandparents cousins?”

“Yes, but–”

“And they’re the most adorable little old couple I’ve ever seen! How they would always walk around the godswood every morning holding hands… my little heart couldn’t handle the cuteness every time I saw them when we were growing up!”

Sansa giggles, smiling fondly at the thought of her grandparents. “You’re right… They are so sweet.”

You share a smile, but then Sansa frowns suddenly. “But it’s not even that… I mean it was , but there’s also… There’s also the fact I was horrible to Jon when we were growing up.”

You won’t deny that, but… “Well clearly things have changed. You’ve changed. And it’s obvious Jon forgives you… And honestly, if I have to hear him be all sad boy and pine over you and play his guitar while singing some song by Cigarettes After Sex for another night, I think I might really have to K word myself.”

“Don’t do that!” Sansa laughs, shaking her head. You raise a brow at her and then she nods, determined.

“I’m going to talk to him… Right now,” Sansa declares, smiling wide. Then she takes your hands into hers. “Thank you… For being here for me when I’m such a mess.”

“It’s nothing, Sansa,” you say as you pull your hands from her grasp to wrap her into a tight hug. “I’m always here for you, you know that! And I know you’d do the same for me.”

After you both pull away, your finger grazes on her cheek and then you show her the pad now covered in cake mixture. “Maybe shower first before you talk to him?”

You both laugh, and then Sansa leaves you alone in her kitchen. You start to clean up, getting most of it done and only stopping when you pass by the tray of cookies you were working on.

As you stare at one of the chocolate chips you had decorated, you pull your phone out of your pocket. 

To Aemond

— are you at school rn?

From Aemond

— Yes. At Barristan Hall. 

— Why?

To Aemond

— okay good! 

— STAY THERE!! 😡

From Aemond

— Alright. 

— Why?

— Oh, so it's okay when you leave me on read?

--

You laugh at Aemond’s unintentional silliness while you slam close the car door you just stepped out of. 

To Aemond — it’s only been 5 minutes you drama queen!! — i’ll see you soon!

“I was promised treats for the ride.”

You roll your eyes, looking across the hood of the car where Theon is putting on his clubmaster sunglasses. You meet him at the front of his car, handing him one of the little dessert packages you had made with Sansa. His eyes light up as he takes it, going ‘ oooh! ’, then he glances up into your eyes more expectantly. Even from behind the sunglasses, you can feel his little beady eyes doing that pleading, wide-eyed emoji look at you.

“You motherf…” You curse him under your breath, rummaging into your tote bag to hand him what he really wanted. The preroll you were saving for yourself later that evening.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, m’lady,” he says with a bow. 

“Uh-huh.”

As the two of you walk off the parking lot together, Theon lights it up, takes a hit before handing it to you. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn't have classes today?”

“I don’t,” you tell him, after exhaling the sativa from your lungs. You hold up the second tote bag you were carrying to show him. “I’m just being a little dessert fairy! I’m gonna give one to Seaworth, Professor Tarth, and…” 

Taking back the spliff and glancing your way, Theon grins and teases, “And your little Targaryen boyfie ?”

Your face twists in disgust. “Ew. Please never say that ever again,” Theon snickers as you continue, “And he’s not my boyfriend… We’re just… friends…question mark?”

You’re definitely not even sure about that. It’s been a week since the party, and you’ve yet to see Aemond in person since then. 

But the two of you have been texting. A lot. 

Surprisingly, Aemond is fun to text despite his perfect sentence structures, proper punctuation, and no use of emojis. Though strangely enough, you don’t even have to explain the internet slangs you say and memes you often send him, he just somehow knows. You usually get a very dry ‘Haha.’ and you’re not sure if he even finds it actually funny. He still keeps texting you though, so you take that as a good sign. 

“ Friends… right. Because you make out with your friends all the time in front of a huge crowd.”

“How many times do I have to tell you: WE DID NOT MAKE OUT! OR EVEN KISS FOR THAT MATTER!”

Theon waves around the phone in his hand. “I have video evidence! And so does Marg! And a million other people that were at the party!”

“And you’re all dumb, like I’ve said before,” you tell him with a pout. You can’t believe the videos of you and Aemond “kissing” gained traction around the students at your school and yet none of your sick dance moves did. The world is so unfair!

As the two of you stop by the doors of the building where his first and only class of the day is being held, Theon steps on the roach of the spliff. Then he turns to you, pulling down his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, enough for you to see his eyes. “How do I look?”

“Like you smoked half a joint.”

“Shit… Mordane is going to kill me.”

You hum, satisfied. “Perhaps it’s deserved… I know it’s your video that’s been spreading around, you little shit!” 

From the anonymous TikTok video that Jon showed you that was being spread around the night after the party titled “Vale U’s Ice Prince snogging the weirdest girl at Vale U”, you can hear Margaery gasping beside the cameraman and the cameraman laughing annoyingly. It’s definitely Theon.

Theon now laughs again, the same annoying laugh from the video, and shrugs his shoulders flippantly. Opening the doors, he lilts at you, “Say hi to your boyfie for me!”

With your middle finger up at him, you sing-song back, “I won’t!” 

--

“Theon says hi .”

Aemond eyes you quizzically, brows furrowing together in a way that you would think is cute if he was your boyfriend like Theon teases. But he’s not, so it’s like, whatever…

“Theon…?” He repeats, still confused. 

“You know, my friend who I think spread that video of us?”

“ Ah… ” Aemond lets out, finally putting a face to the name. Then he looks up at you from where you are standing just beside the table he is sitting at, clearing his throat. “So… How have you been?”

“Fine,” you tell him with a shrug, glancing around the room. You think this must be the first time you’ve been to Barristan Hall since… Well, since your tour guide of the University two years ago. This building is unnecessarily too bougie , and it’s where the more privileged students (read, nepo babies ) like to spend their time on campus. Even this study hall — if you can even call it that — has a stall of the most expensive coffee store chain in it and a freaking high-end bar . It’s ridiculous!  

Aemond is at least studying judging by the book and laptop he has opened in front of him, unlike the other students mingling around. 

You then turn your attention back to him, finding his eye still on you. With a soft smile, you return his question, “How about you? How have you been?”

Aemond sits up a little straighter as he says, “I’ve been… well.” He then presses his lips together, before opening his mouth again, “So, what—”

“Oh, ____! Fancy seeing you here!”

You and Aemond glance to where Ramsay, Aegon, and Vis are all approaching the two of you. 

Before you can even dodge it, Ramsay has his arms wrapped around you. Cringing, you push him off you with a glare that he takes with an amused chuckle. He leans in close, too close , and inhales deeply, smirking at you when he pulls back, “You smell real sweet, sweetheart.”

You make a face that hopefully conveys your utter disgust for him but then Aegon pushes him aside with his arms wide open towards you with pout, “Where’s my hug at, ____?”

You suppress a grimace, tentatively hugging Aegon back when he steps towards you, patting his back awkwardly. It’s strange for Aegon to be this friendly towards you, but maybe it’s because Aemond and you are sorta, kinda, maybe friends now? And Aegon was the nicer of the two towards you when you were growing up. Daeron and Helaena are still the sweetest though.

From over your shoulder, Aegon smirks at his little brother, the glare Aemond has on him making him tighten his arm around you. 

Luckily Vis does not seem to care for you, already sitting down at the table with Aemond with his iced Sunspearino. Aegon finally lets you go and join, sitting beside his brother – bending down to snicker mischievously into Aemond’s ear before he does so. Hidden from view from under the table, Aemond’s knuckles whiten from his clenched fist. 

Ramsay stays standing with his hips cocked and arms crossed, his sleazy gaze steady on you.

Ugh.

“So, ____, have you visited our father lately?” Aegon asks, throwing his arm around Aemond.

“Yup, just yesterday!” You tell him. Then to both him and Aemond, you suggest, “You know, you two should visit him more often. He’s always asking about you guys as if I know what the two of you are up to…” 

Aegon snorts while Aemond frowns, looking down.

“Last time we visited, we found some very interesting… things , that our dear father has been hiding,” Aegon says, eyeing you closely. 

“Like what…?” Your face twists. “... Porn ? Actually — whatever it is, don’t even tell me!”

The boys laugh – except Aemond – and Aegon points towards you, wagging his finger, “You’re pretty funny. I like you!”

“Told ya she’s cute,” Ramsay comments and you almost gag.

“I don’t know about that…” Vis mutters under his breath. “She has egg in her hair for crying out loud…”

With your mouth downturned, you glance down at your hair and find that he is right — you do have egg in your hair. Well that’s embarrassing…

“You’re here to give me something, weren’t you?” Aemond asks, changing the subject. 

“Oh right!” You exclaim, pulling out a neatly plastic wrapped package tied together with a red ribbon and placing it on the table for Aemond. Inside the clear plastic sheet are different individually boxed sweets in clear small tupperware. It’s a bit extra, but that’s Sansa for you! “I spent the morning baking with a friend and we made too much, so… Here you go!” Then you grin at Vis, holding up a piece of your hair, “The reason why I have egg,” you tell him with a laugh. He smiles tightly, still unamused.

You turn back to Aemond, pointing out the different dessert from outside the package, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I gave you a bit of everything… That’s lemon cake over there, Sansa’s favorite. Oh, the macarons! I think I gave you the pistachio and coffee flavored one. Um… Strawberry cheesecake. The banana bread is pretty fire… and,” Your eyes light up as you giddily talk, and Aemond’s cheeks heats up, “I decorated that cookie myself! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You meet his eyes, and he startles, realizing he has been looking at you the entire time instead of following what you were pointing out. You did not notice, only smiling at him as you let him know “It’s a dragon, like your family—”

“That doesn’t look like a dragon,” Aegon remarks rudely, and both you and Aemond snap at him at the same time, “Yes, it does!”

You throw an appreciative smile at Aemond which he returns with a coy half-grin, while Aegon murmurs with a frown, “Geez, talk about touchy ….”

“Thank you,” Aemond says softly, pulling the package towards himself. 

Grinning, you wave him off, “No problem!”

Then you glance at the time on your phone. “I should get going,” you tell him, already backing away. “I’ll talk to you later!”

Aemond stands suddenly, but doesn’t move, just nods as his hands stay pressed on the table. “Yeah, later…”

You throw him one final glance back with a sweet smile on your face and he grins back. 

Once you’re gone, that’s when he finally sits back down. 

“I guess Aemond has game after all,” Vis smirks. “Didn’t think you had it in you…”

Ramsay harrumphs, now also seated. “She never once gave me a package of sweets…” Then he grins sordidly, “But she did give something else that’s pretty sweet if you know what I mean…”

“Fuck off,” Aegon laughs out loud. “You’re gonna make Aemond blow a fuse.”

“He shouldn’t be getting attached to her,” Vis reminds Aegon, and Aemond in turn with a furrowed look. “Isn’t that the whole plan?”

“Looks like he’s getting pretty attached to me,” Ramsay says with a yawn. 

“I’m not,” Aemond says, surely. “I’m just trying to make it all believable. Isn’t that the plan also?”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I have a go again after you dump her?” Ramsay asks, with an innocent tilt in his voice. “I’ve missed that tight cunt …”

Tension clenches Aemond’s jaw minutely, then evenly he says, “Go ahead. By my guest.”

But when Aegon tries to grab for one of the sweets, Aemond snatches it away, and stuffs the package with care in his bag. He then stands up and gathers all his things, stalking away without another word.

Aegon heaves a sigh, incredulously asking, “What’s his problem?!” 

Ramsay smirks, letting out a chuckle. “Oh, this is going to be fun …”

--

You managed to catch Professor Tarth before she left the campus, so your next and final stop for the dessert delivery is your favorite teacher, your literature professor, Davos Seaworth.

You find him in his office and he does not even hesitate to dig into the double mocha cheesecake in his sweets package. 

“How many extra credits do you want for this?” He asks, pointing at the cheesecake he is almost finished. “I’ll give you as many as you want.”

You laugh while shaking your head, flipping through a book he had just given you to read at your leisure. “No credits! But I’ll make sure to bring you more of that one next time!”

Knowing Sansa, next time will be pretty soon.

“Hmm… alright…” Davos trails off, dabbing his beard with a napkin. “By the way, have you signed up for the poetry slam I told you about?”

You sink into your seat, the one across the desk he is sitting at, sheepishly grinning at him, “Not yet…”

Davos hums out disgruntledly. “And why not?”

“I completely forgot about it,” you say with a shrug, you know, like a liar. 

In truth, it’s all you’ve been thinking about. The poetry slam competition at Moon Door Cafe, where the winner will win a 5k cheque and their poetry collection published in a book — both of which you need and want, respectively.

“You better, ____. I’ve already told my friend to look out for you.”

“Okay, then I will,” you try to tell him, but Davos keeps his skeptical gaze on you. “I promise I’ll send in an email tonight!”

Then, once again like a liar, you don’t.

--

Two days later, Aemond finds himself standing by your apartment door, his life getting threatened by the muted snarling of the biggest wolf he has ever seen, so early in the morning.

“Ghost, stop… ” Jon Snow frowns at the white direwolf that still has its teeth bared at Aemond. Jon gently pushes the wolf aside, opening the door wider to allow Aemond to step inside. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite… He’s just… uh… I don’t even know what his problem is today…” Jon sends Aemond a weak smile, “He’s usually pretty friendly…”

Aemond eyes the wolf before turning to Jon. “It’s fine. I’m not really good with animals.”

Jon offers him a slow nod, then informs Aemond, “____’s just in a washroom. Getting ready, I think?”

Aemond hums just as Jon presents his hand. “I don’t think we’ve properly met, I’m Jon. ____’s roommate, and uh… best friend?”

Aemond shifts the coffee tray over to hold with just one hand to shake it. “Aemond. Why do you sound unsure?”

Jon laughs softly, “Oh, I don’t know…”

Aemond eyes him for a second then hums again. He remembers you telling him about how awkward Jon is, so that might be it.

Aemond then glances around the small space — a living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one — it’s homely and cozy, and he can definitely picture you in here. Flitting around, watering the plants, dancing to the music playing from the vinyl player, cooking in the kitchenette…

“Oh, hey! I went with ____ to your dad’s place yesterday!”  

The smile on Aemond’s face falls just when he turns to see Jon grinning wide at him. 

“He’s really awesome! And a hell of a Cyvasse player — I think he beat me in just four turns!” Jon recalls with a laugh.

Aemond exhales heavily, offering Jon a tight-lipped smile. “That’s… great.”

Feeling the awkward tension finally, Jon rubs a hand at the back of his neck. “Oh, uh… yeah…”

“Whoa, hey! What are you doing here?”

Aemond glances over to where Ghost pads to, and his eye widen and balks when he sees you just wrapped in a tiny towel. 

You walk around your apartment like this — with Jon just in the room?! 

He then swerves his stare at Jon who looks unmoved but looking at you as well. 

“I think he brought you breakfast,” Jon tells you all nonchalantly, and Aemond lifts up the coffee tray he is carrying dumbly. 

Your whole face lights up, smiling wide at him, so much brighter than the sun coming through the windows, “Aw, that’s so sweet! Wait, let me get dressed first!” You hurry into your room, slamming the door behind you and Ghost who follows you in. 

“Is this for the desserts I gave you!?” He hears you call from behind the door. “Because you really didn’t have to!”

“It’s–” he starts to call out, but you are already walking out your room. And although it took you less than a minute, you look absolutely… breathtaking.

Aemond will not admit it, but his heart leaps to his throat; staring at you all slack jawed and short of breath. 

You bounce to him cheerfully; Ghost in tow, now happier as well by the way his tail wags. You grab one of the paper bags on the tray, opening it to find an almond croissant. “ Oooh , but I won’t say no!” You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you! ”

Aemond takes a hard swallow, and finds himself smiling back, “No problem.”

As he sets the tray down on the small round kitchen table, you break off a piece of the croissant and offer it to Jon to taste. Aemond watches the interaction with a frown on his face. He shakes it off with a shake of his head, and pulls out one of the cups from the tray, handing it to you, “This is for you.”

You take it happily, but as you read through the label the barista had messily written on the cup, your face begins to falter. “Oh, um…”

Aemond’s expression hardens. “You don’t like lattes?”

“No! I love lattes!” You quickly say. “It’s great–”

“She’s lactose intolerant,” Jon explains and Aemond’s face falls.

“It’s all good! I can just take lactaid!”

“But you hate hot drinks…”

“Jon… You’re not helping…” You tell your best friend through gritted teeth.

“But it’s freezing outside,” Aemond states, so he thought you’d appreciate something warm for this chilly morning…

“Okay, don’t judge me…” you glare playfully at Aemond. “I like iced drinks! Is that such a crime?”

Aemond shakes his head, though he is still frowning. “No, it’s not…”

Your head tilts at the look on his face, confused. “Aemond…”

“Here, give it to me,” Jon says, reaching for the cup in your hand. Once he has it, he goes to the cupboard, pulling out a water bottle. Then from the freezer, he grabs an ice tray, putting ice and the latte into the bottle before handing it back to you. 

“There,” Jon says with a satisfied grin. “All better for Miss Fussy.”

“Fuck you,” you huff out, and yet you laugh and your tone fond. “But what would I do without you?”

“I honestly don’t even know…”

As Aemond glances between you and your best friend sharing a smile, a strange feeling stirs inside him. 

--

“Is this your first time taking the bus?”

Aemond glares your way for your senseless question. “Of course not.”

But as he struggles to make himself comfortable on the seat beside yours, you have to giggle to yourself. It’s definitely his first time.

Aemond rolls his eye and ignores your tittering. 

Aemond’s annoyed, and rightfully so. You and him had a perfectly good ride to school but you insisted on taking the bus so Aemond let his driver go for the day to accompany you.

“Theon calls her a bus wanker,” Aemond remembers Jon saying earlier with a laugh while you got your school bag from your room.

At the puzzled look on Aemond’s face, Jon frowned, “You know… Like from the show… The Inbetweeners?”

Still confused, Jon finally told him, “It’s one of _____’s favorite shows. We, uh, rewatch it every few years together.”

And there Jon goes, once again reminding Aemond the history between the two of you. How he knows everything there is to know about you. 

Now that’s a wanker , Aemond thinks a little too spitefully.

Whatever, it doesn't even matter. Once Aemond finishes what he needs to do, he does not even need to know or remember all your favorite things anymore. All that knowledge will be useless to him in the future.

Crossing his arms against his chest, Aemond huffs haughtily, nostrils flaring. He grimaces; something smells strange in there, and he feels eyes on him. It’s a kid, unabashedly staring at him — or more particularly, his eyepatch. Aemond is sure that the boy is the reason for foul stench also, so he glowers at him, mouth pulled back in the sneer. 

He turns to you, about to ask why you enjoy riding on this godforsaken public transit ride, but then his expression lightens when he finds you staring out the window, a sleepy yet faraway look clouding your face. Your brows are furrowed, too deep in thought during such a bumpy ride, for so early in the morning. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aemond inquires a bit too softly as if his mouth moved faster than his mind, but it still pulls you out of your haze. 

You grin at him, head shaking. “It’s…”

Sighing, you pull out your phone to find something, then once you do, you hand it over to him.

Aemond tries not be bothered by the notifications that keeps popping up —

fellowship of the cool people + theon Jon 🐺— dinner at mine and ____’s tonight??

(Aemond refrains from rolling his eye.)

fellowship of the cool people + theon 🌈MeerMeer 🌼— 👍 — i’ll bring the weed

fellowship of the cool people + theon Robb 🐸— oh hell yeah!

fellowship of the cool people + theon GreyNoJoy 🦑— i’ll bring the best thing… myself 🥰

fellowship of the cool people + theon Margie 🌹❤️— ew

And Aemond focuses on the webpage you pulled up instead.

It is a Poetry Slam competition hosted by one of the best Music and Arts publications in the whole six continents, R'hllor Stone, at the Moon Door Cafe which is close by the Vale U campus. The winner gets a 5k cash prize, a book of their poetry published, and a full double-page feature in the magazine.

And the last day to sign up is… Today, at midnight.

“You haven’t signed up yet, have you?” 

“Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’.

After handing you back your phone, Aemond hums for a moment, in thought. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging. “I guess I haven’t been super confident in my latest pieces, so it’s a bit daunting to send it in to be judged.”

“Do you want me to look over it? Give you my honest opinion?”

You make a face. Because hell no . Aemond is the last person you want to be reading your poetry. Mr. Psychology Major will probably psychoanalyze your musings and deem you crazy – or just plain stupid, which is more likely. 

“Well if it’s like the one you recently published on the school’s Instagram page, then I think it’s more than adequate.”

You whip your head to stare wide-eyed at him. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Befuddled.

“ You read that?!” 

Aemond flushes bright red, like he had not meant to confess that out loud. 

“It’s our stop,” He declares to move on from the subject, standing up suddenly to push at the button on one of the handles for the bus to stop. 

“Wait, Aemond —” 

But he doesn’t wait, knowing you are following behind him.

Aemond gets off the bus first, then turns to offer you his hand to help with the steps.

Aemond can’t help but note how your hand slips so easily into his. So warm against the cold that he finds himself holding onto you a little tighter.

Once you are both off the bus, Aemond glances around, clearly lost. He’s never seen this area of the campus before…

“Yeah… This isn’t our stop. We still had four to go,” You tell him with a snarky chuckle. When he glares at you, you defend yourself quickly, “Hey! I tried to tell you!” 

Aemond huffs a bit petulantly then starts to drag you the same direction the bus drove away at.

He also can’t help but note that you let him hold your hand until he walks you to the building of your first class.

untitled playlist

🎵 dreams tonite · alvvays 

--

The call arrives five days later, when you are studying in one of the libraries on campus.

You step away to pick it up, with Aemond raising a brow at you. 

(The two of you have been spending a lot of time together. Too much, maybe. 

Margaery jokes they’ve all been replaced. Theon says he’s officially your boyfie . Robb tells you to be careful. 

You tell them all to mind their business. And that the two of you are NOT dating.

Aemond is just a friend, and nothing more.)

You find a secluded aisle before you answer your phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon… Am I speaking to ____ ____?” The sultry voice from the other side asks.

“Yes, speaking…”

“Wonderful. I’m Melisandre, the editor-in-chief for R'hllor Stone—”

“I know who you are!” You squeal, a little too excitedly. You press your fingers to your mouth, eyelids squeezing shut in mortification. “Sorry, I’m sorry… I’ll, um…”

Melisandre laughs. “It’s quite alright! I’m just as excited as you are… I’ve read through your poetry portfolio for the Poetry Slam contest and I’m impressed…”

“You are…?” You ask, voice small and timid.

“I am,” Even through the phone, you can hear her smile. “I called to congratulate you for making it through the next round.”

You gasp. “Really?!” Earning you a shhhh! from someone an aisle over.

She laughs again and reassures you that it’s no joke. Then she informs you that she’ll be sending an email with more details soon — on what the theme will be, the schedule, etc.

“I’m glad Davos told me to look out for you. I can’t wait to meet you in person, ____,” Melisandre says before saying her goodbye and hanging up.

Your mouth drops in shock. 

Oh… Your favorite professor will definitely be getting an earful from you… How many times have you gushed the works of Melisandre to him and he never once mentioned she was the friend he was talking about? 

Well, an earful after you thank him profusely.

Speaking of saying thanks…

You head back to Aemond, standing by where he sits and motion for him to stand. His gaze is quizzical, so you do it again — your palm up in an upward motion, nodding as your eyes flutter shut with a cute grin. 

As if annoyed, Aemond let’s out a soft huff of hot air. But you think you know him at least a little bit better now, and it’s just a front he puts up. You’re starting to believe that his dad is right — that underneath all that cold exterior is a sweet guy deep inside. 

And you want to be the one to melt his icy, cold heart.

As a friend, of course .

As soon as he stands, you throw yourself at him, hugging around his tiny waist. He staggers back with an oof! You laugh, jumping back just as quickly as you were on him. 

You think you might have broken his brain a bit by the way stares at you with his eye wide and his mouth open dumbly. 

“What are you—? What was that—?”

He can’t seem to choose which question to ask, so you save him the trouble and say, “I made it into the Poetry Slam contest. And I hugged you because you were the reason I sent in my application,” with your hand on your hips cocked to the side, you tease, “I figured if your pretentious ass liked my stuff then what am I afraid of?”

Unsure, Aemond says, “You’re welcome…?” 

You chuckle, grinning wide. “No, seriously… thank you.”

He wets his lips then smiles too — that genuine smile again. The one you’ve been seeing more and more of each and every day. 

“Congratulations,” he says. And is it weird to say you think he looks proud of you? 

Unexpectedly shy all of the sudden under his gaze, you start to shift nervously side to side. “Do you… Want to… come watch?” 

Then a bit more hurriedly, you prattle on, “You don’t have to or anything! Just – If you’re not doing anything! It’s on a Saturday so you probably have better things to do—“

You stop babbling when Aemond shoves his phone screen your way. It’s on the calendar app, and on the last Saturday of the month, in two weeks, he has it marked off as “____’s poetry slam, @ moon door cafe, 1 PM”. 

Feeling thrown, you look away from the screen to meet his eye. “How did you…?”

Shrugging, Aemond puts his phone back into his pocket.

“I guess I had a feeling,” He smirks confidently. “You’re too headstrong to not at least give it a try…” The smirk then shifts into something warmer, his face softening. “And of course I’ll come… I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Aemond looks a little hazy then — like a dream. 

And your stomach? Full of stupid butterflies. 

untitled playlist

🎵 the start of something · voxtrot

--

The theme for the competition is Romantic Love. 

Which makes sense since the R’hllor Stone cover artist for the issue that the slam poetry winner will be featured in is the pop darling, Luvie — the stage name of Myrcella Baratheon. 

Yes, the same Myrcella Baratheon who is the daughter of Cersei Lannister. Weirdly enough, the scandal breaking out didn’t affect her career at all. There was a very brief moment that people were making rumors that her and her brothers were really the children of their uncle, Jaime Lannister, and not their late political figure father, Robert Baratheon. But that was squashed rather quickly. It’s impressive. Luvie has got to have the best PR team ever — people did not even realize she was an industry plant and a nepo baby until two years into her career. But then again, her other uncle, Tyrion Lannister, is also the most prolific lawyer of this time. 

Enough about Luvie. If you could, you’d talk about it all day. Probably the worst trait about you — your love for celebrity gossip. You’d eat up a cheating scandal between two married daytime news anchors that committed adultery on their spouses with each other even if you’ve never watched their program even once in your life. 

Besides, you don’t have time to dwell on celeb gossip. With the competition coming up and the days rushing by so quickly, you needed all your free time to focus on writing the piece for it. 

Only problem is, it’s been awfully hard to come up with something. It’s like there is a block in your mind every time you grab a notebook or open up the notes app on your phone.

You already know the main issue for that…

You’ve never been in love before.

Deep infatuation? Sure. 

But love love? Never ever.

And it’s not like you’re a closed off and guarded person. Quite the opposite. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Your love languages are the neediest of the five: physical touch and words of affirmation. You date with the intent of making the relationship become something serious, every single time. And still… nothing. 

“It’s so bad ...!” You groan, scratching out another line on the current poem you’ve been working on for the past two days. You read the whole thing over – all five stanzas already written – and deem the whole poem awful. You turn the page to a blank one, needing to start over all over again. 

When nothing comes after minutes passing, you let out a resigned sigh, slumping on the wooden stool you’re on and say out loud to the room, “I give up. I’m gonna call Melisandre and tell her to pull me out of the competition.”

The only other person in said room with you snorts. You turn to glare at Meera, who meets your gaze for a second with a grin and then continues to water the plants in the room. 

The two of you are at the floral shop Meera works at. You thought a change in scenery would be good for inspiration. Clearly not — not even being surrounded by the flowers that people often associate with love helped with anything.

“I’m serious, Meer!”

“Sure you are…” she playfully indulges with a roll of her eyes. “You’re a little too headstrong to give up that easily.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” You cross your arms, pouting to yourself. 

“Cause it’s true,” Meera simply says. She then sets herself at the wooden work table in the back of the room and calls for you to join her. Laying on the table is the ugliest flower you’ve ever seen in your life.

She hands you the little printed out online order sheet. As you read it over, she heads over to the flower buckets to peruse the selections.

“ I request a bouquet with kale, it’s the salad my darling ate on our first date, ” you read out loud, face twisting in disgust after the fact. You eye the purple and green monstrosity on the table, “Ew, how romantic . Does this dude even know how ugly kale is?”

“Probably not,” Meera laughs. She comes back with various bunches of different stems of flowers in her gloved hand. “But I wanted to show you something…”

She picks up the kale first, showing you again. “Horrid, right?”

“Yeah. Ugliest fucker ever.”

Chuckling, Meera starts to trim it. “That may be true, but I need it to be the star of this bouquet and find a way to make it… pleasant on the eyes.”

You hum, nodding as you watch her work.  

“Sometimes… Something good can come from nothing… I didn’t have any particular feelings about ornamental kale before but the more I worked with it… The more inspired I became… and then…”

Meera adds one last sprig of baby’s breath to the arrangement.

“There!”

You are in shock… Somehow, Meera managed to make the kale bouquet beautiful — bringing out the purple with white hydrangeas, baby’s breath, and heather. You would even spend money on it yourself. No wonder Robb always goes to Meera for flowers whenever Margaery is mad at him. You tell her all that yourself.

Meera laughs in thanks, then concludes, “So what I’m trying to say is… Pick a subject. Embellish your feelings a little. You don’t really have to be in love or have been in love to write about it… Do you really think Taylor Swift had real and genuine feelings for the Owl City guy when she wrote the masterpiece that is Enchanted?” 

You gasp, eyes lighting up — everything clearer to you. “Oh my god! You’re so right!” You sniff then, grabbing a hold of her hand and squeezing it, “Meera… You speak Swiftie now.”

She groans, slapping a palm on her forehead. “You, Sansa, Margaery, and Theon have ruined me.”

You giggle a bit, before your face falls to a pout. 

“Who am I supposed to write about though?” You ask with a dramatic and forlorn sigh, going back to your little stool by the cash register.

Meera shrugs, wrapping up the bouquet prettily. “Just someone, anyone… Whoever comes to mind first?”

At her words, you think of a violet eye and a face so taut and sour as if they had just sucked on a lemon.

You laugh to yourself. 

Then your pen hits the paper, and the words begin to flow.

--

 

Aemond arrives at Moon Door Cafe early when there are plenty of empty seats available, but still sticks to the wall at the back of the room. He already caught sight of your friends at a table near the stage and yet he did not make an effort to greet them. It’s not like they’re his friends, he hasn’t even met any of them formally except for Jon. And he does not want to make fake pleasantries with Jon. There’s just something about the guy he does not like.

So he stays at the back of the cafe until the room fills and the lights go down. 

He looks over the pamphlet he was given at the door, and sees that you are the fourth to last to go up out of the 15 contestants. Which means he’ll be here for a while. Aemond frowns in discontent. 

He’s not really much for poetry — he’ll devour any form of literature except poetry. Which is funny, considering he has a few written about him in the form of a song. 

But he supposes after reading a few of yours… Yours weren’t all too terrible. He can ever dare say he likes a few of them.

So that’s the only reason he’s staying… Just to listen. 

He has been curious. He didn’t know you did any spoken poetry, all the ones he has seen of yours were written. But you must have at least some experience with it, one of the requirements for the portfolio was two examples of spoken poetry. 

Aemond wonders if you’d be clamorous, if your words will be punctuated with cheerful sarcasm like always. 

He grins to himself.

And how about the theme? Romantic love… Who did you write about?

His gaze flits to the front of the room at the man with the dark curly hair and unkempt beard and scowls. He watches him smile wide and snap his fingers for the poet on stage. Then suddenly he stands up, clapping and hooting with the rest of his friends. 

That’s when Aemond realizes that you were getting on the stage. He didn’t notice that many performers had gone up already, none of them really held his attention. Until now.

He straightens up a little, snapping his fingers with the rest of the room. 

You walk to the mic, confident. If you hadn’t texted him about how nervous you were earlier when he texted you to ‘Break a leg.’, he would have bought the front you were putting up.  

You’ve already been introduced by Melisandre, so all you have to do now is just go straight into your poem. 

You smile at the crowd, disarming them with your charm, before you take a tentative breath and —

If I could, I'd be your little spoon 

And kiss your fingers forevermore 

But, big spoon, you have so much to do 

And I have nothing ahead of me

There is a song-like cadence to your soft voice, as if you were singing. It draws him in, hanging onto your every word. 

You're the sun, you've never seen the night 

But you hear its song from the morning birds 

Well, I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star 

But awake at night I'll be singing to the birds

Aemond is enraptured. Enchanted. Beguiled.

Don't wait for me, I can't come 

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me 

But I do, I think I do

He had no idea that simple poetry could move him like this.

You're the one 

You're all I ever wanted 

I think I'll regret this 

Your stare is fixed, not on anyone. Just a faraway, melancholy gaze on nothing in particular. It makes you look all the more hauntingly beautiful. Aemond finds himself willing you to look at him. 

You don’t.

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I finally do

Instead, when you finish, your gaze flicks to the front of the room with a tender smile — at him .

Aemond feels his chest tighten a little. 

The room fills with loud snapping as you descend the stage, and once your feet hit the floor, you are being lifted at the waist and hugged tight by Jon Snow. 

Aemond watches on bitterly for a couple more seconds, expression pinching at the way Jon joyfully spins the two of you around, then turns to leave.

He waits at the front of the cafe for his chauffeur, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.

“You’re really leaving without congratulating me?”

Aemond wets his mouth indignantly. He knew he should have texted Podrick to meet him earlier.

“You haven’t won yet,” Is all Aemond says as he turns to look at you, a smirk curling his lips.

You glare at him, arms crossing against your chest.

“Gods. Are you always such a dick? I know I haven’t won yet… I don’t even think I will win. I meant just… congratulating me for even putting myself up there,” you frown, looking off to the side, trying to blink away the hurt. 

Seven Hells , Aemond sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut, can he? He always has a penchant to make everything worse.

Stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Aemond takes a step towards you. “You were… Amazing up there,” You eye him warily, disbelieving, so he continues, “I mean it… You got me hanging onto your every word. Congrats.”

“Thanks…” You murmur from the corner of your mouth, bashful. It was your turn then to take a step towards him, still glowering at him when you say, “But you didn’t even say hi, and now you’re trying to leave without even saying goodbye.” 

“My apologies. I didn’t want to keep you from celebrating with your boyfriend ,” Aemond says, tone clipped.

Did you hear that right, Aemond thinks you have a — “Boyfriend…?”

“You and Jon are dating, aren’t you?”

You’d laugh if it wasn't so ridiculous. “No! Jon’s dating Sansa! And besides that, he’s just my best friend. Wait a second… Did you think we’re dating cause he’s my roommate ?”

“No, but…” Aemond shakes his head, unable to grasp what you are telling him. He already made this whole story up in his head. “You fancy him, don’t you?”

“No!” You almost gag at the thought. Because, ew. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, ___,” Aemond scoffs, taking another step towards you. “You find him attractive, don’t you?”

“I mean…” You think about it for a second. Jon’s your best friend and you’ve never had romantic feelings for him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes! And besides, even if you didn’t find Jon attractive, you’re not about to bash his looks for no reason at all. “Have you seen the guy?”

“I have and I’m not impressed,” Aemond tuts with a roll of his eye.

“Maybe it’s because you only have one eye?” The rhetorical question slips from your mouth before you could even stop it. 

You are frozen as Aemond’s mouth drops slightly before it closes to press into a hard thin line. He is mad, and understandably so.  

“Wait, Aemond, I didn’t mean it like th—”

“So how did you mean it?” In an instant, he is in front of you, nostrils flared. His violet eye alight with a simmering burning, “So I guess it’s because I only have one eye that I find you attractive?” 

Your gaze widens and your cheeks are burning up. Did he just…?

That’s when you notice that Aemond looks just as shocked. But only for a second. If he had not meant to say that aloud, the blank look he puts on carefully hides it well. It is the flush high on his cheekbones and the heavy rise and fall of his chest that gives him away though.

You look up at him, keenly aware of his proximity. A warmth spreads through you at how much he towers over you. He can definitely manhandle you in the way that you like. And the way his domineering gaze pinned you to the spot makes you desperately long for him to pin you against a wall instead. 

You start to laugh. Loud at that. 

Because you realize an undeniable truth…

You want him. Gods. You want Aemond Targaryen. 

Even more now that you know he wants you as well.

The admittance makes you laugh more. 

And so, with no preamble at all and just straight to the point, you ask him—

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Aemond stares at you like you’re insane. 

Then, as if without any doubt in his mind, he says — yes. 

a.t.

🎵 there’s a light that never goes out · the smiths

--

Even though you were the one to ask him out, Aemond offers to plan the date. 

You didn’t mind. Between school, work, and stressing about the results of the competition, you were just going to take him to the movies. Which, looking back now, is lame; and you highly doubt you’ll get a second date if you forced Aemond to sit through a movie about a killer AI doll.

So you let him take the reins — surprise me , you told him with a wink after letting him know which days the next two weeks that you’d be free.  

Four days after the competition, Aemond surprises you — or maybe more so Theon, who screams out girlishly when Aemond appeared directly behind him when the silver haired man approached you and your friends during lunch in the southern building cafeteria. 

Theon still has his hand over his heart, halfway off the bench, but Aemond disregards him to tell you, “I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow for our date. Be sure to be ready.”

Then he saunters off. 

“He’s so intense… it’s kinda sexy,” Margaery says.

Your other friends admit their agreement in various degrees of reluctance as you all watch Aemond’s back retreating until he is out of the room.

“Where do you think he’s going to take you?” Sansa asks eagerly, leaning on the table to get closer to you.

You give her an exaggerated shrug as an answer just as Theon comments, “Probably somewhere so fun… The library!”

You successfully shove him off the bench he is still precariously on. He lands on his ass on the floor but he is guffawing at his own joke. 

“Nah… He’ll definitely take her to the fanciest restaurant in the Vale, book it all out so it’s just the two of them, and then confess he’s been in love with her since they were 14,” Meera says with a scrunch of her nose. “Real straight people shit.”

“Oh, I know where he’ll take her,” Robb says, straightening up confidently for everyone’s attention. “Into the forest, where there will be a clearing, and then he’ll rip off his shirt to show ____ that he… sparkles.”

Your friends start howling with laughter at that, so loud that students from other tables turn to look. You’re laughing too, but quieter, pouting with both your hands pressed on your face from embarrassment. 

“You’re all awful!” You moan. “And you know what?! Maybe I want him to be Edward Cullen, maybe then I can tell him to drain the blood of all my “so-called” best friends!” 

“Have fun playing baseball in the forest tomorrow, then,” Jon teases, causing your friends to laugh more.

Sweeping a glare at all of them, you bite out, “I. will. Thank you!”

--

From Aemond

— Please dress warm and comfortably.

As you read the new text while you are getting ready for the date, a shiver goes down your spine.

Oh Gods.  

He is taking you to a forest, isn’t he?

If Aemond is a vampire, you wouldn’t be surprised. But you have seen him growing up, so maybe not. 

You groan, shoving off the silky dress you had wanted to wear. It’s so pretty, but you doubt that it will be comfortable or warm enough for a trek through the woods.

So you settle with a white turtleneck under a red cardigan, dark blue jeans, a Sherpa lined shearling leather jacket, and broken-in Docs. 

Comfortable, warm, and cute. 

You grin at your reflection through the mirror just as you receive another text. 

From Aemond

— I’m waiting downstairs. 

After giving yourself another once over and grabbing your purse for the day, you text back:

To Aemond

— coming ☺️ !!!

When you step out of your room, three pairs of eyes turn your way, ignoring the Super Smash Bros round they’re playing to annoy you all the way out the door with their comments and shiteating grins.  

“You look pretty, ___!” 

“Thanks Jon!”

“Have fun and use protection!”

“Take your own advice, Robb!”

“Say hi to your boyfie for us!”

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you, catching the last thing Theon says, “Look! She didn’t even deny it!”

Usually, you’d take the stairs down. Your unit is on the fifth floor (the highest of the building) so it’s not so bad. But you didn’t want to look winded before the date even starts, so the terrifyingly unreliable elevator it is. 

Luckily, by the grace of the Sevens, you didn’t get stuck. So you’re a little too chipper when you find Aemond waiting at the lobby — especially since he looks so incredibly handsome in his long black wool coat, cream fisherman sweater, black fitted slacks, and a pair of black leather Chelsea boots. 

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he seems pleasantly delighted when he sees you. Nothing overt, but it’s definitely a change from how he used to be when you got near him before. You remember always sniffing yourself when you were teens, because he acted like you had the strongest BO. You didn’t, you smelled like fresh laundry and maybe on your worst days, fresh cut grass and the sun since you spent a lot of time outdoors when at the Arryn mansion. 

You walk to Aemond, and he unclasps his hands from where he held them behind his back to turn fully towards you. 

As a greeting, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck that was wrapped in a soft alpaca wool grey scarf. 

You can tell Aemond is not used to physical affection by the way he stiffens against you —just  like the last time. But you hold on a little longer, liking the bergamot and amberwood smell that lingers on him. 

Just when you think you aren't going to get anything back, about to let him go; you feel his arms wrap around your waist. A little loose, enough that when you step back you are easily free from his hold, but it’s a start. 

You beam up at him, and he holds your gaze for a bit before he looks off to the side, his cheeks a light scarlet. It’s adorable that he is so easily flustered. 

He clears his throat then gives you a glance over. “You look… warm.” He gives a nod of approval. “Good.”

“But do I look…” With a mischievous smile, you poke at his stomach, “… attractive?”

His face darkens to a deeper maroon, pressing his lips together. “You’re really going to hold that over my head, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you tell him a toothy grin. Stuffing your hands into your coat pockets, you start to slowly rock back and forth from your heels to your toes as you sing-song your own confession, “If it makes you feel better… I think you look really good today… My jaw nearly fell to the floor when I saw you.”

Aemond’s hand flies to press against his mouth, coughing into his palms. He might be choking, you have no idea. But you’re sure if he wasn’t blushing before, he would be tomato red right now.  

He takes a shaky breath, regarding you as his hand falls back to his side. “How are you always this straightforward?”

You shrug with your mouth downturned. “I have no filter sometimes.”

Aemond lets out an amused huff. At least you know. 

His gaze falls over you again, flickering across your features in quiet contemplation for a moment or two. 

“You look lovely.”

At his soft tone, your breathing hitches and your mouth slightly parts. He tracks the slow movement, wetting his own lips. 

But he does not even give you time to respond, turning to glare at the door to change the subject, “I drove here. Are you alright with taking my car or do I need Podrick to pick it up?”

“I’m not anti-car, or anything. We can drive there,” you tell him with no joking lilt or sassiness in your tone, just even. Perhaps still a bit stunned at his compliment.

“Could have fooled me,” Aemond says, chuckling lightheartedly, his fingers touching the metrocard in his pocket. It’s new. You had dragged him to the nearest bus station after his fourth time riding on one with you. You were beyond exasperated of seeing him stuff a ten or twenty dollar bill into the fare slot since he never has any change or anything smaller for the £3 fare. He has used it quite a lot already, and always only with you, realizing just then how often the two of you have been spending time together.

“Let’s go?” He asks, cocking his head to the door. 

When you nod, Aemond presses his hand against the small of your back, leading you outside.

The heat of his palm has you flushing and your stomach doing somersaults, even long after he has taken it off you to hold the door open for you to get into his cream Volvo P1800 S Coupe.

You haven’t felt this nervous for a date in quite a while — and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or bad thing yet.

--

Aemond has the prettiest hands. 

Delicate and dainty, yet also spans big and strong. Not to mention the veins that run along his hands are mouthwateringly attractive, bulging whenever he grips the leather steering wheel. 

He could be a musician if he wanted — or a hand model. You’re sure he’d have a million Twitter fan accounts dedicated to just his hands alone. 

Maybe you should have let Aemond drive you around all those times he had offered. 

He looks so effortlessly cool as he spins the wheel with just the palm of his hands, checks the rear view mirror, and keeps his concentration on the road. 

You have not stopped staring at him. 

Maybe you should stop because he is starting to notice. His gaze flickers to the side at you  every so often with that usual low humming sound he makes. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you lean forward to turn on the radio. 

How did you make it so long without music playing in the background?

Oh right. You were too busy admiring Aemond to notice anything else. 

The speaker starts blaring and it’s no surprise that Aemond’s stereo system is only of the highest quality. A sweet, melodic voice resounds in the compact space. 

— say, "I'm done," but I'm still confused,

How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?

And I change my mind, but it's still on you,

How am I supposed to leave you now —

Aemond is so quick to turn it off that your mouth parts slightly in mild shock.

“We’re here,” is what he says when you glance over at him, and he is pulling his car onto a parking spot beside the curb of a cobblestones sidewalk. 

You let out a laugh, “Oh my god. I was about to ask what did Luvie do to you by how aggressively you turned off the radio!”

“My bad,” he says with a wan grin before getting out of his car. 

He’s at your side of the car, opening the door, before you even get the seatbelt off. 

“Thanks,” you say, taking his hand to step out. While Aemond pays for parking, you take a look around at where he brought you for the date. 

Elation spreads through you as you take in the quaint area with the brick warehouse buildings, pretty stringed lights hanging from street lamps to street lamps, and all beautiful street art spray painted on the walls. It’s the Distillery Village, a hip part of the city just a bit a ways away from the heart of downtown Vale. 

You used to love going here when you were younger. But now, not so much. It’s still beautiful there, but it has become a hot date spot for young couples over the years. And it’s not like you really had any partners that you had gotten serious enough to want to take there, less they ruin your fond memories of the place.

You remember going here a few times with the Targaryen family. You wonder if Aemond remembers that too.

“Ready?” Aemond asks, walking towards you.

Smiling, you nod, your hand reaching to catch a hold of two of his fingers.

Aemond pulls away, making your heart stutter dolefully — only for him to intertwine his fingers between yours, his hold firm yet gentle. You flutter your lashes at him, questioning, and he shrugs. “More comfortable this way.”

The two of you walk around like that, hand in hand and with a cup of coffee in the other.

(Aemond ordered for you. He has your latte order perfected now, and you have his. You had him pegged as a Sunspearino kind of guy – black with no sugar – but surprisingly, Aemond has a sweet tooth. He likes his cappuccino with two pumps of caramel.)

You are having a nice time with Aemond. Window shopping, trying out desserts from every cute spot you pass, taking time to admire all the art in the area.

Maybe it’s his hands holding yours, but your nerves eased quickly and you are back to your old self in no time. 

Perhaps too comfortable. You are talking Aemond’s ear off about the fluffiness of the cream puff the two of you just had, when you realize he hasn’t said much in the past few minutes. So you abruptly stop to glance wearily towards Aemond, somewhat afraid that you are boring or annoying him with your incessant yapping, but you find his fond gaze already on you.

“I’m glad you’re back to being yourself again,” Aemond says, still leading you on the cobblestone path. “I was worried earlier. You were too quiet in the car.”

“I was nervous!” You confess a bit too shrilly.

“Oh?” The light smile that was on Aemond’s face twists into a cocky smirk. “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “ Was nervous… Past-tense, Aemond.”

The smirk is still on his lips when he replies with a playful and disbelieving mmhmm .

You turn away, laughing to yourself. You’re happy that he is joking around with you more, it makes you feel that the two of you are really starting to get closer.

You end up stopping at the busiest part of the village, where most couples and families conjugate at the plaza square, sitting on the steps that surround a huge reflecting pool. In the warmer months, the shallow pool is a pretty fountain to look at for outdoor picnics; but in the winter, it is frozen over as a skating rink. 

Leaning your arms against the railing that surrounds the top of the steps, you watch the ice skaters with stars in your eyes.

You had once wanted to be a professional figure skater because of Val, the Free Folk figure skater that stole the heart of the entire nation when you were younger, when she competed and won all the singles figure skating titles during her first Harrenhal Winter Games. 

Your father even paid for ice skating lessons after you begged your parents for weeks to learn. You were over the moon, telling everyone who would listen about it, about how you are going to be the next Val. Your dreams were crushed after a certain 16 year old teenage boy scoffed, “No, you won’t.’ when he overheard you telling his sister.

Remembering this, you whip your head to glare at your date.

Aemond startles at your sudden heated expression, eye widening.

“Do you… Want to go skating?” He asks, unsure.

You turn your nose up at him, grimacing. “Yes. I do.”

--

Now you truly remember why you didn’t become the next top figure skater and quit your lessons after the 4th class… You sucked at it. 

For some reason, your body does not agree with the skates. You’re always off-kilter, that you spent the first ten minutes clutching onto the railings instead of skating.

Aemond, on the other hand, is a natural on the ice — so graceful it’s envious. If you did not know he is from the south, he would have definitely earned the title of ‘Ice Prince’ this way like some sort of Northern Royalty.  

He watches as your wobbly legs try to catch up to him in mirthful silence. The bastard looks like he is going to burst out laughing at any given second.

With brows furrowed together, he asks, “Didn’t you take lessons?”

“I quit after four classes…” You tell him through clenched teeth, shaky arms out in front of you to keep your balance.

“Why?” Is the asshole’s next question.

Burning him with a glare that can rival a thousand suns, you wave your hands from your head to your waist, presenting him yourself, shaking precariously like a newborn giraffe. The motion has you slipping and hurriedly catching yourself with a choked out ‘ whoa!’ . You don’t even know how that happened — you are not even moving!

And that did it, Aemond couldn’t hold it in anymore, he laughs so hard that he is throwing his head back. 

You sneer at him, and it makes him laugh more.

“I’m — I’m s– so sorry,” he tries, but he is still laughing, so it doesn’t feel very genuine to you. If you could cross your arms, you would. But that would throw you off your balance more, so you just give him a stink face, nose scrunched and mouth pursed in distaste for his lack of common courtesy.

“You’re such an as–” Suddenly, you are slipping again except you couldn’t steady yourself fast enough. But before you could hit the ground, Aemond swiftly wraps his arms around you and catches you. So easily, like he had at the party. 

You straighten up quickly, still embarrassed, muttering a thank you under your breath. “You’re still an asshole though.”

Aemond licks his lips, lets out a laugh and nods briefly in acceptance. “Let me make it up to you.”

Aemond takes both your hands in his, and then carefully, he helps you get your footing right, skating backwards as he guides you along the ice. It takes a while, but you think you are getting a hang of it. It’s unbelievable but half an hour with Aemond has taught you more than those 4 lessons you took. 

Soon enough, he is only holding one of your hands, skating by your side.

“I guess I’m a better ice skating teacher than you are a dancing instructor,” Aemond declares pompously. 

That has you snorting in an unattractive manner. “So you admit you suck at dancing?”

Aemond huffs out a chuckle, walking right into that one.

The turns are the trickiest parts. And as soon as you saw the edge of the rink coming up, you nervously fuck up your footing. Nothing too bad since the two of you were skating at a rather slow pace, but it did cause Aemond to pick up his speed a little so he can turn for you to crash against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

In his warm embrace, you peer up at him under fluttering lashes. Aemond is already looking down at you with a hooded gaze. He has you feeling breathless and flushed. 

You have his rapt attention when your pink tongue peeks out to lick your lips in anticipation. 

You don’t notice him leaning in though, not when you feel something wet and cold touch your forehead. 

Looking up, that’s when you notice it, the fluffy white snowflakes falling from the clear blue sky. It is the first snowfall of the year.

You let out an elated laugh, smiling wide, lifting a hand to catch a snowflake on your fingertips.

Aemond then gently grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing your attention back at him.

You let out a soft, little gasp.

He is staring at you like you are something so precious. There is so much fondness in his violet eye that your heart feels like it's going to burst with happiness.

Then as if in slow motion, you watch as a tiny, pretty snowflake lands on the dip of his lower lip.

You lean up to melt it against yours as well.

With a pleased hum, Aemond’s hold on your waist tightens, while his hand on your chin slides back to cradle your neck, kissing you deeper. He has your mouth parting with a moan, and his tongue slips in easily. He tastes like caramel, espresso, and vanilla; so addicting in a way that you think you can definitely get used to this. 

Aemond’s mouth on yours has you lifting up your foot behind you, like you’re a princess in a cheesy romantic comedy. Embarrassingly giddy as if he is the first and only boy you had ever kissed. 

And when you feel him smile against your lips, you start wishing that he’ll at least be the last. 

a.t. 💗

🎵  to you · mallrat

[aerynwrites]

Baldur’s Gate 3 Masterlist

Halsin

Longing || part 2 - NSFW. Reader has been pining after Halsin for a while now but has hesitated to make a move due to her inexperience, little does she know - a certain Druid might just feel the same and is more than willing to show her.

Remember - A drunken night leads to confessions and Halsin still being a gentleman.

Not alone - Reader is feeling overwhelmed with the responsibilities of being the defacto leader. Halsin tries to show them they don’t have to bear the weight alone. (Requested)

Scars - Reader hates the scars they bare, but Halsin shows them that there is nothing to be ashamed of.

Lover’s Embrace - NSFW. An alchemical mishap puts reader in a situation she’s not expecting, and as usual, Halsin is there to help. aka - reader accidentally creates an aphrodisiac potion and Halsin helps her through the after effects.

Dance The Night Away - Tav/reader gets a chance to finally show off a dress she acquired some time ago, something Halsin greatly appreciates as they dance.

Cherished - NSFW! A/B/O fic with omega!fem!reader. Reader has been on supressants for years only to be faced with the ordeal of an unexpected and intense heat when she loses her supply. Halsin is there to help.

Loss - reader mourns the loss of a beloved pet. Halsin is there to comfort them. (Based on a request)

Losing You - You get injured in battle and Halsin finally feels a fear he hasn’t felt in quite some time, a confession he makes to you as he nurses you back to health.

Reciprocation - NSFW! Reader notices that Halsin is usually the one to give during intimacy, this time, reader decides to return the favor.

Mistaken Identity - the reader meets a bear in the woods, unbeknownst to her this bear is the same Druid she has a crush on.

Desire - based on a request for breeding kink with Halsin

Whittle Mistakes - Reader injures themself while Halsin teaches them to Whittle.

Peaceful Moments - Reader and Halsin spend a quiet moment together.

Send Me an Angel (Halsin x Fem!angle!Reader)

After witnessing an angel fall from the sky, Halsin takes it upon himself to nurse her back to health. But as the days go by, the shadow curse still prevails, and he starts to find out there’s more than meets the eye with his new Angel companion.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Gale Dekarios

Late Nights - Gale has slipped away from you in the middle of the night - again - so, it’s your duty to bring him back to your side.

Unexpected, but Not Unwelcome - Reader announces she’s pregnant to Gale, he reacts in the best way possible.

Perks of The City - NSFW! Gale and Reader take part in all the city has to offer. Aka: they fuck in a bathhouse

Make it Right - Durge!Reader is struggling with finding out their past and their part in the absolute plot, their companions turning away from them. They decide to do go after Orin to make it right.

Masquerade of Liars - Gale and Reader take their son out to celebrate a traditional Waterdeep holiday (aka the forgotten realms version of Halloween!)

Worthy - reader/tav feels like they aren’t worthy of Gale. He’s quick to tell them otherwise.

Lost for Words - reader tried on the Wavemother Robe and shows off the new item to Gale who, well…he’s lost for words.

Dreams Become Reality - NSFW! reader has a rather…debauched dream and wakes Gale up. Good thing he’s curious and willing to satiate your fantasies.

Astarion x Halsin

Worries and Doubts - On a quiet afternoon in the forest, Astarion starts to have doubts about the future. Halsin is there to comfort him.

Love Lost - Halsin was unable to sway Astarion from ascending and now…Now he’s left to try and reconcile his love for the man he knew and the vampire lord before him now.

Dammon

Emeralds - You’ve been pinning after Dammon for quite some time now, little do you know the blacksmith feels the same way.

Fear of Losing You - (part 2 of emeralds) Reader stumbles upon the tiefling massacre in the shadow cursed lands and assumes the worst.

Bound by The Heart (and other things) - you stumble upon one of Dammon’s more…lewd books, and find out something he’s wanted to try. You eagerly volunteer.

Rolan

Freckles - you spend the morning admiring Rolan as he sleeps.

Headcanons

Halsin and Gale with Reader who tries pheromone perfume

Love languages with Gale and Dammon (SFW and NSFW)

Physical Touch and Gift Giving w/ Gale, Halsin and Dammon

Halsin as a New Dad

Dammon with a plus size S/O

Halsin and Reader Post Game

[jedipoodoo]

Hey! I was wondering if I could request a HunterxReader. Something where Hunter is like really possessive over reader with like another guy? Or one of his brother getting a little too close for his comfort, nothing nefarious, just lite teasing.

Thank you in advance.

Again, you’re doing amazing sweetie!

Me reading this request:

I hope you enjoy this one!

Man After Midnight (Jealous!Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: Hunter POV, The Return of The Kyle™, guy gets handsy with reader and Hunter does something about it, alcohol consumption, bar fight, 79s, feel free to check out my personal 79's Playlist here. Spoilers tagged for the gif. Y'all do not know how long it took me to find a season three gif for this one.

Whenever the squad convinced Hunter to join them at 79's, he tuned out the noises and smells to the best of his abilities. The overlapping of a million voices, all too similar to differentiate, the body odors and cologne, the pounding bass of the pop music, it could get to be too much. 

But when you asked him to join you, he couldn't say no. He was powerless to the pleading in your eyes and the joy in your smile when he finally said yes. Or it could have been how Crosshair commented on how good you looked in the new outfit you'd bought for clubbing, but he'd never admit it.

The six of you crowded into a booth at the back of the bar, farthest from the speakers. Hunter made sure that he got the seat next to you, only for Tech to remind you that it was your turn to grab the drinks from the bar. You smiled at Hunter apologetically as you tried to climb over him without bothering him too much. He had a better idea though, and gently placed his hands on your waist, easily lifting you over his legs and placing you on the outside of the booth. 

Wrecker gave a wolf-whistle at the wide-eyed look on your face, and you quickly looked away, running over to the bar as fast as you could through the crowd. 

The others were chuckling as Hunter frowned. Had he messed up? Was he too forward? He didn't consider himself a shy person, but he'd been so sure that you were sending him signals that you were interested. 

"Hmm," Crosshair hummed. 

"What is it?" Hunter sat up.

Cross smirked, "It seems our resident civilian is attracting some attention." 

Hunter quickly scanned the crowd, looking for you. Halfway between the bar and the squad's booth, drinks spilling out of your arms, you were stopped talking with a senate guard. What one of them was doing here was beyond him, but Hunter didn't like the way he was looking you up and down, and half-blocking you from the booth. He wasn't even offering to help you with the drinks. 

Hunter slammed his hands on the table to push himself out of his seat and marched over to you, shoving the guard to the side. 

"Let me help you with that," He said, taking Wrecker's boilermaker and Tech's martini from where you had kept them expertly balanced. 

"Hey, excuse me clone-" 

"You're excused," Hunter rolled his eyes at the senate guard and nodded you towards the booth, "Let's go." 

"Thank you," You said softly, but he heard it all the same. And you were smiling at him, so he hadn't totally messed up. 

The two of you handed out the drinks to their respective drinkers, and Hunter herded you back into your seat. 

"Who was that?" Wrecker asked, downing half his drink in one go. 

You shrugged, "No one in particular. I think his name was Kyle?"

Hunter huffed. He couldn't tell himself if he was annoyed or amused by this revelation. Of course the smarmy senate guard would have a name like Kyle. 

The evening carried on, Wrecker ordered more drinks, Echo found some old friends from the 212th, and Hunter could hear Tech rambling to a very interested Rodian woman who listened to him describe the nesting habits of rancors with stars in her eyes.

You, of course, were on the dance floor. You were always dancing around the Marauder, humming to yourself as you cleaned up your workspace or made the caff. Whenever Hunter saw you dancing, it felt like all was right with the world.

He spotted Kyle across the room. Hunter was surprised he'd stuck around, the senate guards typically didn't deign the clones to be good enough company to make the way across town to 79's.

But Kyle wasn't paying attention to any of the clones. His beady eyes tracked your every movement out on the dance floor. Hunter felt a rumbling in his chest, like a reek warning others to stay back. 

Kyle, of course, couldn't hear it, and even if he could, he probably would have ignored it anyway. The senate guard shouldered his way through the crowd on the dance floor, announcing his presence by placing his hands on your hips. 

Hunter heard your yelp of surprise and grit his teeth. He launched himself from the booth and marched across the room. Several startled patrons hopped out of the way when they saw the look of pure rage on his face, but all Hunter could focus on were your protests as Kyle grinned. 

"Really sweetheart, I'm just trying to give you a compliment, is all!" Kyle laughed as you flushed in embarrassment, trying to push him away. Kyle's grip tightened on you, but Hunter grabbed him by the shoulder. When Kyle turned with a smart quip, Hunter decked him across the face. 

"They said no!" He snarled, his arm out in front of you like a shield.

A few clones gave out supporting cheers as the senate's flunkie was laid out across the nearest table, but Kyle wasn't the only one present. Two more men, decidedly not clones, approached Hunter menacingly, trying to defend their friend. He saw them coming, but he had to take a hit from the first one so that the other could get close without suspecting too much. Then Hunter took the both of them with one swing. 

"Hunter!" You cried out. A crowd was gathering, and Wrecker was trying to make his way over to you and help Hunter out.

Hunter placed his hands on your shoulder, standing in between you and Kyle.

"You alright?" He asked.

"What?" 

"Look out!" Someone shouted. Hunter shielded you with his body to see the senate guards standing up.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet, though he still leaned unsteadily against the table.

"You're gonna regret that, meatdroid!" He snarled, blood dripping down his chin from a broken nose. Kyle charged towards the two of you, but Hunter stepped to the side at the last minute, catching Kyle by the collar of his dress uniform. It was tight enough already, but with Hunter gripping the fabric, Kyle had to gasped for air. Hunter swung him around and right into his would-be bodyguards.

"No fighting! No fighting!" the steward droid waved its arms, but no one was paying it much attention. Wrecker caught the three stooges by the scruff and happily carried them out the door like a mother tooka, dropping them on the veranda where they could hail a hovertaxi. 

Once he was certain that Kyle was taken care of, Hunter turned to you.

"Are you alright?" He repeated.

"Am I-?" You shook your head, "You have a black eye!" You pointed out, as if Hunter wasn't wincing every time he blinked.

"Just a scrape," He insisted.

"If I had a credit for every time-" You were too upset to even finish your thought, but you grabbed Hunter by the lip of his chestplate, pulling him over to the bar. You asked the serving droid for the medkit, and brought him back into the bathroom stalls.

"That was incredibly stupid of you. You know what kind of trouble you could get into if you hurt them too badly!" You made Hunter sit on the edge of one of the sinks so that you could treat him properly.

Hunter sighed, "Trouble seems to find me regardless of whether I do anything or not."

You fixed him with a death glare that made it clear he was better off not saying anything until you were done treating his wounds, superficial as they may be.

"Don't do that again, you hear me?" You slathered bacta over his eye, and dabbed some on the cut on his lip. Fortunately, there was one more ice pack in the poorly-stocked kit, so you snapped it in half to activate the cooling gel. 

"Sorry cyare, but I'm afraid I can't make that promise."

You froze, the ice back an inch above his eye. He could feel the air cooling around it, and gently took the ice pack from your slackened grasp, pacing it against the swelling skin.

"Hunter," You gasped, "don't say things like that. Even for me, it's not worth the risk." Your hands were shaking, so you busied them by packing up the remains of the medikit. 

Hunter grit his teeth as you turned your back to him, "You are worth every sacrifice I have made. Every shot I've taken, every nightmare that haunts me, every humiliation I've had to endure from those miserable excuses for sentient beings," He waved the ice pack in the air, trying to indicate Kyle and his flunkies.

"It's worth it," He insisted, "Just to see you smile."

He heard your heart beat faster as you swallowed the lump in your throat, and he knew he'd gone too far.

"I... I didn't know you felt that way..." You whispered.

Hunter hopped down from the sink and marched out the bathroom door. He needed a nice, stiff drink.

A couple of the other clones gave him strange looks for the eyepatch, and a few who'd seen the fight asked if he was okay. Hunter ignored them all, trying to flag down a steward droid.

"Hunter!" You shouted his name above the din of the music. He decided it was best to ignore you too.

By the time you finally made your way to him at the bartop, he was halfway through a drink he'd regret in a couple hours.

"What do you think you're doing!?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"Having a drink, what's it look like I'm doing?" He grunted miserably.

"You can't just tell me you love me and walk away like that!"

Hunter spat out a mouthful of alcohol all over the serving droid, leaving his tongue and his nose burning from the taste.

You, however, were unperturbed by his reaction, folding your arms across your chest.

"Now are you going to ask me to dance or not?"