#roller room divider | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holybibly · 9 months

Text

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way.

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run.

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit.

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

980 notes · View notes

eyrina-avatar · 1 year

Text

Fulfilled

synopsis: based on this request. Neteyam finds reader's diary full of fantasies that she wants to fulfill with him.

pairings: neteyam x reader (avatar reader) aged up ofc

author's note: I tweaked it just a bit but it's still what anon requested. This was sitting in my drafts for like a month since I was so busy. But I finally finished it! Hope the anon who made the request likes this.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, extremely heavy smut such as fingering, squirting, and creampie. proofread once, I was rushing to get this out of my drafts already. Lmk if you see any errors that need to be fixed asap lol

word count: ~6.8k this is a long one (I think my longest ever, I could have divided this into two chapters and even thought about it)- you've been warned

"Ugh, what a long day," you groaned as you hung your legs off the edge of the link unit.

"I honestly don't know how Grace used to manage being in charge of the kid's school plus do research and be so involved with the clan..." Norm trailed off as he yawned.

"And while hiding her findings from the RDA" You added.

"Probably by getting some proper rest. Which is what you two need." Max pitched in, as he handed you the back roller.

"God, that feels so good. What a relief." You sighed as you massaged your back, trying to reach all the sore spots.

"I can help with that!" Neteyam's voice hit your ears and you turned around in shock.

"What are you doing here, I though you were asleep in the tent?" You questioned.

"Yea well, you fell asleep meaning I would have to wait for you in the morning and I wasn't really feeling tired enough to go to bed yet." He responded as he took the roller from your hand and started massaging your middle back making you groan in relief.

"Yea, that's the spot..." you closed your eyes in bliss let out a small "mmm" sound, making you earn looks from Norm and Max.

"Jesus you two, get a room before this gets out of hand." Norm commented as he got up from his link unit, making Neteyam stop his movements.

"Wh-what? No, no. It's not what it looks like. Haven't you guys ever gotten a nice back massage after doing some strenuous activity?" Your cheeks flushed red in your flustered state, thinking about the possibility of ever doing it with Neteyam.

"Yea, but not as strenuous at what you and Neteyam will be doing later if you guys keep this up." Norm rolled his eyes.

"What?" Neteyam's tail stood up in shock and his ears flickered in embarrassment.

"Ha, it's not like they would bother us here anyways, they have the whole forest to go at it." Max chuckled.

"Max!" You and Neteyam yelled in unison, shocked at the words that came out of the usually calm scientist's mouth.

"What, just helping you guys out." He shrugged.

"That type of help is not needed!" You insisted as you crossed your arms.

"Whatever, as long as you two don't start interrupting anyone." Norm added in as he made his way to the shower

"Look who's talking. What I heard from Jake is that apparently Norm and Trudy were often going at it in the shared rooms." Max let out.

"That's none of you guys' business!" Norm stopped in his tracks to comment.

"Well, you sure were making it everyone's business!" Max rebutted, making everyone break out into fits of laughter.

"Woah, Norm!" You let out a giggle

"Maybe that's why he's so uptight, he hasn't been getting any action lately." Neteyam whispered.

"I heard that!" Norm made known before walking away.

"Anyways, I better go get freshened up as well, I'm a bit sweaty right now. Tell one of the repair guys that the cooling system in that unit isn't working so well." You said before placing a "down for repairs" sign on the link unit.

"Will do." Max nodded as you and Neteyam headed out of the lab and into the residency hallway.

"So, I guess I'll be going then if you're just headed to clean up." Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, still a bit flustered from Max and Norm's comments.

"What? No, I have my own room, remember? And my room has it's own shower as well, so I won't have to leave you waiting outside of some random hall. Come, come." You tugged at his arm and he followed you to your room.

"So, this is it!" You walked in and turned the lights on, closing the door behind Neteyam.

"Oh, you did some remodeling since last time?"

"Yup, I wanted to add some life to it so I added in some potted plants around the room plus some that glow in the dark, to add a 'nature-y' touch."

"Not bad. 'Nature-y' touch accomplished." Neteyam looked at the plants, curious to see how the glow would look in your room."

"Oh, let's turn the lights off!" You suggested before flicking the switch.

"Ohh that's nice, it almost looks like the forest in here!" Neteyam marveled while examining all of the colors in your room.

"Yup!" You flicked the light back on. "I just wish I could have added some vines along the window to add some greenery. That's just the finishing touch that it needs." You sighed as you looked around your room.

"Well, why haven't you? There's plenty of vines for you to collect." Neteyam cocked his head in question.

"I have plenty, it's just that I couldn't reach the spot on the wall where I wanted to attach them to. It's too high."

"Nonsense, I'll help you out. See, I can reach just fine." Neteyam stated, happy to lend you a helping hand.

"Thanks, I really appreciate that." You gave a smile and headed to your drawers as you looked for the measuring tape. "Nete, can you please get the vines? They're in my closet over there . The light switch is on the right side, and please close the door while you're at it. I have a automatic dehumidifier in there and I don't want it to start puffing extra hard and using up all of it's charge.

"Sure, sure. I'll get it, and um close the door as well. All of that..." Neteyam made his way to your closet and turned the light on. His hands rummaged through some of your clothes on the hangers and flipped through the ones folded in your drawers but couldn't find the vines.

Crap, forgot to ask her where in the closet they're at, he thought to himself. His eyes scanned the small room and landed on a few boxes stacked on the left side of the floor and one labeled 'room decorations.'

Perfect, probably in there.

He pulled the box out but three more came tumbling down as well. Neteyam hurried to clean up the mess and as his hands scrambled to put everything away, his eyes landed on a small book that landed open and face down. He carefully picked the book up and saw no words on it's cover so he decided to take a peak inside, wondering if it could be filled with your findings and experiments.

He brought the book up to his face and scrunched his eyes as he read the words on the page.

journal entry #105 not much happened today I took more lessons with Moa't and with the help of Kiri, I was able to successfully create a healing balm that was very effective in preventing infection and swelling. The main ingredient was yalna bark. Kiri found it and suggested that we should use it. Also, I took some weaving lessons with Neytiri and she said I was improving quickly. I was able to make my own top with my favorite blue and purple leaves. I later used the top while Neteyam took me to hunt some fish. I saw Neteyam staring so I think it accentuated my features well. I'll definitely be wearing it again since he complimented me and said I looked nice. Anyways, the fishing went well and Neteyam will give me more lessons tomorrow, but I hope I'll be able to concentrate. My feelings for him have been making me even more flustered lately. It doesn't help that he's so handsome. I caught myself staring at him by mistake, hopefully he didn't notice. I definitely don't want him to think that i'm some sort of weirdo.

"Neteyam, are you alright in there?" The sound of your voice snapped Neteyam out of concentration and he hurried to place the book back in the box. He grabbed the box containing the vines and hurried out.

"Gee, what took you so long? Did you get lost in there?" You chuckled.

"Sorry, I was getting the box that the vines were in and knocked down the others in the process so I had to clean up." Neteyam carefully handed you the vines and you untangled them.

"Just start at that corner of the wall and continue all the way around the room, okay?" You asked

"Got it," he nodded.

"Good. I'll go take a shower and by the time I'm done, you should be done as well." You grabbed your towel and headed towards your bathroom. "Oh, by the way, you can put any excess vines along the bottom of the wall, all around the room like the other ones!" You slipped into your bathroom and closed the door.

Neteyam quickly got to work unraveling the vines and hanging them up. By the time he was done, he heard the sound of the water turning off and the shower curtain sliding across the rail.

"Nete, can you please pass me the purple bag? It's in the closet. ." You asked as you hid your body behind the bathroom door.

"Sure," he headed off to retrieve the item for you.

"Thanks, I shouldn't be done for another 10 minutes as I'm doing a hair treatment. If you're done you can go ahead and look around my room if you want." You slipped back into the bathroom.

"Um, alright." Neteyam decided it would be best if he put the supplies back where they belonged and headed back to your closet, putting everything away. Unfortunately the words in your journal wouldn't leave him alone and he decided to take another peak.

One look shouldn't hurt, right? Plus, she told me I could look around.

Neteyam opened the box again and took your journal out. He flipped through the pages until he was met with the most recent entry:

journal entry #119 My skills have improved a lot and Neteyam says I'm one of the best hunters in the clan. In fact, I went hunting with Neteyam again and god, I had a really hard time controlling myself. His charm is so enticing and yet his personality so kind, in fact he makes me so flustered and shy sometimes. But god, his body is so hot?! Honestly, I wouldn't even mind if we banged. Of course I like him for his personality... but he's super attractive too. Gosh, I would let him do anything to me. Anything. And I mean it. I would be so lucky if I would somehow be able to get him to use his fingers on me, or better worded, in me. His dick too, I wouldn't mind. I know it's so big, I just know it, I know. I could bet all the meat from last week’s hunt that it's enormous. Probably a good 9-10 inches... I don't know if that would even fit inside of me, but I'm willing to find out.

Neteyam felt his cheeks burn up at the words he just read as his ears flickered while his tail swished back and forth in excitement.

She likes me back? In fact she likes me back so much she actually wants me to...fuck her?

Neteyam slammed the little book shut and shoved it back in the box. He knew everything he needed to know about it and was going to have the time of his life with the newly learned information. He cleared his throat and got himself together, trying to feel normal, as if he hadn't just finished snooping around his best friend's personal and private writings.

He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"Gee, you sure took a while in there," you chuckled while combing your hair.

"Well, I was uh, putting some of the supplies away."

"Not bad, the vines came out looking nice! Thanks a lot" You exclaimed.

"No problem," Neteyam smiled nervously, worried if you would find out that he was snooping through your things.

"Hmm, a job like this deserves a little reward." You made your way over to him and flashed a warm smile. Neteyam's tail once again swished back and forth in excitement.

"What type of reward?" He asked, hoping that you would perhaps act on what you had written about.

"Ice cream!" You turned around and headed to your mini freezer.

"Oh" Neteyam murmured under his breath and his ears drooped down.

"Here, one scoop of strawberry and another one of yovo fruit. I made that one myself. I wanted to try something new!" You smiled as you handed him his bowl and spoon but stopped as soon as you saw his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing. Thank you, I really like ice cream. I've only had it once or twice." Neteyam tried to come up with any excuse for his disppointed reaction.

"Oh I see, you wanted a different flavor...Well, there's vanilla too but that's kinda plain."

"No, no it's fine. I really do like these flavors. I was just thinking that maybe Tuk would have liked to taste these." Neteyam reassured and began eating.

"It's fine, I have some more saved. She'll be able to taste them as soon as Kiri brings her along to the avatar compound. You know she like's to visit Grace at least once a week" You plopped yourself on your bed and joined him. His tail began swaying left and right as he thought about a new idea.

"So, any plans for tomorrow?" Neteyam questioned.

"Nah, maybe just chill and take it easy, you know what I mean?" You looked up at him and saw how his eyes glimmered with excitement.

"Oh, then maybe you and I can hang out tomorrow. You know, just us, have some space to spend some alone time with each other. Friends always need some time to hang out with each other, right?" He gave your smaller figure a light nudge.

"Right, friends..." Your face dropped at that word and you simply sighed as you continued eating your ice cream.

"Well, it's definitely getting late now. I'm heading back to home tree to get some rest for the morning. I'll see you in the morning, alright?" Neteyam patted your head as he headed out the door and you simply nodded.

"And thanks for the ice cream, it was great. I won't tell Lo'ak though or he'll get jealous, you know how he is. Good night!"

"Good night..." you waved back and sighed, flinging your ice cream into the trash. Too disappointed to do anything else, you threw yourself on your bed and decided to get some sleep.

~~~~~

You woke up early, and with the view of a pink hue illuminating the sky, it was barely dawn and you knew that some of the omaticaya were already awake but the Sully's were probably all asleep as a rock.

You decided to bring your avatar form into the avatar facility and you quietly made your way around into the laboratory as slid into a link unit and was awakened by the sound of Lo'ak snoring in the next tent.

What a nuisance, glad I was able to sleep somewhere else last night.

You quietly made your way out of the tent, careful not to wake anyone else. Cautious with your foot placement, you made it out of home tree and to the spot where you usually meet with your ikran.

With a quick call, your ikran came flapping towards you, and you swiftly boarded it and made way to the avatar compound.

"Mawey, Ira." You petted your ikran to calm her screeching and made way into one of the buildings, past the laboratory and into your room.

Ahh, some peace and quiet. Maybe I'll just relax and give myself a spa day or something. You thought to yourself as you massaged the bottom of your feet that were still a bit sore from all of the hunting and running you've been doing.

Still thinking of the events from last night, you sighed and threw yourself back on the bed, not sure of what to make from the situation.

Does Neteyam really feel the same about me?

Should I ask him out or is that too forward?

Or should I just wait for him to ask me out?

The questions filled your mind and started to make your head pound. You decided that it was probably best if you just took a small break from your emotions and just distract yourself until your mind felt more refreshed and you could think more logical.

Heading towards your table, you grabbed a small tablet where you had recorded data about some plant samples and decided to work on that.

~~~~~

"Has anyone seen y/n?" Neteyam searched around his tent, dumbfounded with where you could have possibly gone without telling him or even waking him up.

"I saw her leave the tent this morning." Kiri commented, not even looking up as she peeled some of the fruit she was preparing for breakfast.

"You saw her? Where'd she go?!" Neteyam questioned his younger sister.

"I don't know. I'm not as nosy as you. Maybe to the avatar compound or something." She shrugged.

"What if she's in danger or something. What if she got lost?!" Neteyam stood up, getting ready to go after you.

"And where are you going without eating?" Neytiri pointed to a spot next to Lo'ak.

"Ha! Guess you can't go looking for your crush right now." The younger brother teased.

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, she's not like Lo'ak. She can actually fend for herself so I'm sure she's fine." Kiri reassured

"Hey!" Lo'ak let out in a protest.

"She knows the forest like the back of her hand. Plus didn't you say she was a pretty good hunter?" Kiri popped the fruit into her mouth and waited for her brother's response.

"Yea, but-"

"Then she'll be fine." Jake reassured as he let out a yawn, still groggy from his sleep.

"I just don't understand why she would go out without telling me. She seemed fine last night." Neteyam sighed

"Oooooh, you were with her last night?" Lo'ak wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yea, and we had ice cream, without you."

"What, that's not fair. She promised she'd save some for me." Lo'ak crossed his arms in disapproval.

"She did save some." Neteyam took a bite out of his fruit and watched as Lo'ak's tail swished back and forth in excitement.

"But not for you." He swallowed his food and let out a smirk as he watched Lo'ak's tail come to a halt.

"Whatever, screw you! She's probably pissed and you deserve it. Y/n is always going out into the forest with someone, so to not even wake you up is a bad sign. You probably did something to upset her." Lo'ak spit out in retaliation.

"What? What did I do?" Neteyam put his fruit down as he tried to process the information just given to him.

"Maybe more like what didn't you do..." Kiri murmured.

"Huh?"

"Probably nothing, you know how women are." Jake reassured his eldest son. "But umm, not Neytiri. She's always been wonderful to me. Anytime she was upset was because I deserved it." Jake chuckled nervously, saving himself as he remembered that his wife was sitting right next to him but still earning a light hiss from her.

"Yea, probably nothing..." Neteyam tried to calm his nerves. "After all, she was fine last night." He added.

"Skxawng!" Kiri knocked her brother over the head.

"Ow! What the heck was that for?"

"For being a skxawng, I just told you!"

"What?"

"She likes you. Do I really have to spell it out for you?" Kiri rolled her eyes.

"I know that-"

"You see!" Kiri gave her brother a smack on the arm.

"Stop hitting me! You see what?" Neteyam cocked his head in question.

"You know that she likes you and you haven't even asked her out! That's what!"

"I only found out last night. What was I supposed to do..." Neteyam trailed his words.

"Oh great mother. Even worse! She told you and you didn't do anything about it?" Kiri stared in disbelief.

"She didn't tell me, I found out a different way."

"Norm told you? Max?" Lo'ak pried.

"No..."

"Then how did you find out?" Lo'ak questioned.

"Mind your own business," was all that was given as an answer.

"Well, honestly, you've sorta been giving her mixed signals so she's probably confused on wether you like her or not. Maybe she went back to the avatar compound by herself to clear her mind for a bit." Kiri let out, not wanting to make Neteyam too nervous.

"Oh. What should I do?" Neteyam shook his head in question, unsure of what to do in order to fix the mess he made.

"Aww, the mighty warrior doesn't know how to approach his crush." Lo'ak let out a chuckled.

"Enough." Neytiri warned, quieting the younger boy.

"Just say you're sorry for not realizing earlier and then just ask her out. Or be more direct and say that you like her." Jake stood up and handed his bowl to Neytiri. "Good luck." He tapped Neteyam on the shoulder and made his way to the center of home tree.

~~~~~

You slid out of your chair and got up, stretching your back in the process.

God that was tiresome, but I'm glad to get that out of the way.

Deciding on a break, you headed out of your room and towards the shared lounging area. Grabbing a yogurt pack from the refrigerator, you made your way back to into your room and sat yourself down. Scooping the spoon into the cup, you were about to bring it into your mouth before hearing a knock.

"Coming!" You sighed before putting your food down and making your way towards your bedroom door.

"Norm, I told you I'm not going to be doing anymore experiments this week. I'm still putting together all of the data we collected from the last-" you opened the door to your surprise.

"Well, I'm not asking you to do any experiments. Can I come in?" Neteyam flashed a smile.

"Oh!"

"Soooo?"

"Sure, sure. Of course, come in!" You flashed a warm smiled as you closed the door behind Neteyam.

"I was wondering where you went. You know, since I told you last night that I would see you in the morning but then you left home tree without telling anyone."

"Sorry, I just felt like I needed to clear my head a bit from, um stuff..." you trailed off and much to Neteyam's surprise, Kiri was right.

"Sorry, maybe I was interrupting your personal time. I can leave if you wanted to be left alone."

"No, no! It's fine." You grabbed Neteyam's arm and pulled a chair out for him.

"I've had plenty of time to clear my head and bring my thoughts together and feel less stressed...about things. You know how life is..." You let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to give any hints on what you were so worried about.

"Sit down, make yourself comfortable."

"Actually..." Neteyam stayed standing up. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh. well… go ahead!"

"Well, actually... I wanted to apologize to you." Neteyam let out in a low voice

"I'm sorry, what?" You tilted your head in confusion at what you just heard. "Apologize for what?"

"Perhaps I've been a bit of a skxawng. Or maybe a complete skxawng. I didn't realize but I was giving you mixed signals. I should have realized sooner and I completely apologize for that. You probably thought I was toying with your feelings. I understand why you were upset with me this morning"

"I-" Your mouth was left agape, not sure of what to say.

"No, I get it. I should have told you sooner. I know that you like me and to be honest, I like you too. In fact, I'm completely enamored by you and should have acted on that earlier instead of leaving you confused. Can you... forgive me?" Neteyam nervously scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what your response would be.

"Neteyam...truth be told, I don't even know what to say. I suppose I forgive you. It wasn't really your fault, how were you supposed to know earlier? Maybe I should have been more bold. I don't know... It's quite alright," you let out a small chuckle. "There's really nothing to be sorry about. In fact, I wasn't mad with you this morning. I just left hometree to clear my mind on this whole situation. It's actually quite silly how flustered you make me feel sometimes. I was just a bit disappointed that last night you said we should hang out today as friends when honestly, I hate that word, friend. I don't want to just be your silly little friend, I want to be more. More than friends..." you trailed off as you looked down at the floor, too embarrassed to look at the na'vi in front of you.

Neteyam brought his hand up to your face and tilted your chin up, "Don't be shy, it's fine. You're quite cute when you're flustered, you know?" He let out a small chuckle. "I probably shouldn't have used that stupid word, friend. But I hope you don't mind it being used in the context of being my girlfriend? What do you think?" He tilted his head, waiting for your response.

"You want me to be your girlfriend?" You shyly smiled as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Why not? Girlfriend, lover, or mate? How's that?" Neteyam let with a small smirk.

"M-mate? That includes getting mated and-" you cut yourself off before you could explain the full details.

"Hmm, why not? I'm interested in you and you're interested in me. Plus, I think you're not as innocent as you make yourself out to be." Neteyam raised his eyebrow and inched himself closer to you.

"Why would you think that...I've never done that with anyone before..." you trailed your words and inched backwards.

"Still doesn't mean that pretty little head of yours isn't in the gutter." Neteyam stepped closer.

"Yea, and what proof do you have of that?" You smirked, cockiness filling your head.

"Hmm let's see, I found a book in your closet and maybe read a few pages."

"Pff, oh yea? And what did it look like?" you jokingly rolled your eyes at him.

"Well, in fact it wasn't one of those biology books. It was a small little book, no title on it. It had a brown leather cover and it was just full of your writing. Sound familiar?" Your eyes widened at the description and your mouth fell open, shocked at the realization.

"What, surprised?" Neteyam let out a small chuckle as he continued inching closer to you until your back hit the wall.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about." You huffed out, trying to sound confident.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. In fact, you're even wearing that pretty little top of yours that you said accentuated your features. It does, and you're right, I couldn't help but stare when you wore it the other day. Not my fault anything you wear makes you look so pretty." Neteyam's fingers played with the string of your top, gently passing over the knot on your back that was holding it together.

Between admitting to reading your journal and staring, Neteyam’s words had turned you into a flustered mess.

“Well, who told you that you could read my journal?!” You spat out, trying to get the upper hand.

“Hmm, let’s see. If I remember correctly, you did tell me that I could look around your room.” Neteyam shrugged.

“Yeah but my journal is private!” You retaliated.

“Oh really? I didn’t see any sign on it that said ‘private/ no trespassing’ or ‘y/n’s journal, don’t touch.’ Seems like you were missing a sign. Can’t blame me.”

“Why, y- you. You perv!” You lashed out defeatedly, not knowing how else to react.

“Really, I’m the perv? I wasn’t the one writing all of my fantasies about wanting to get banged.”

“I…” you dropped your head in shame, once again too embarrassed to face Neteyam.

“Hmm, thought so.” He let out a small chuckle as he raised your chin up again. “So, do you really think I’m handsome?” He looked at you seriously before giving you a slight smirk.

“Well, you read it! No need to tease me about it” you gave his chest a slight push.

“Teasing, who’s doing any teasing? I’m just trying to test the waters to see if you’re really up to doing what you mentioned.”

“Oh-”

“So, are you?” Neteyam inched his face closer to yours.

“Are you what?”

“C’mon don’t try to play dumb. Do you want to do what you mentioned or what?” His lips hovered over yours as he trailed his hands over your waist and behind your back, pulling you in closer.

“I-”

“What’s wrong sweetheart, cat got your tongue?” Neteyam let out a small chuckle before looking you in the eyes and giving a ‘so?’ look.

You simply nodded, too flustered to say anything.

“Words, babygirl. Words.” He pushed your hair out of your face and caressed your cheek. “Would you like to try what you wrote about?”

“Yes…” you whispered in a barely understandable tone.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it nice and slow. How’s that for you, sound good?” Again, you nodded, giving Neteyam the green light to go ahead.

His eyes fell to your lips and yours on his. Each just a few centimeters away from the other. You leaned in and yours just gently brushed against his. Neteyam’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you in during the process, lips making contact for the first time. You let out a small gasp and his came crashing down on yours again, pushing your head back to the wall as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His lips moved in pace and you followed along, inexperienced but quickly catching on. Your hands traveled up and down his neck and Neteyam let out a small groan as you gave a slight tug on his hair. Hands started moving quickly as you found yours on his chest, traveling up and down and his on your back. His lips took a turn and started making his way down, leaving small pecks all over your collarbone and eventually moving to your neck, where his mouth left a wet trail wherever it could.

“Mmm, Nete-” you let out a moan as his lips sucked on your sweet spot making your body fidget in his hold. His lips traveled up your neck and you were sure you were going to have a few bruises for show.

“Neteyam, you’re gonna leave hickeys all over my neck.” You barely managed to breathe out.

“I know… that’s my plan,” he let out in between kisses. “…to mark you… As mine… all mine.” He held onto you and made his way to your bed, not letting go for a thing in the world. Neteyam sat down and had you on his lap facing him, your legs straddling him while he continued to make his mess.

You lifted his face and kissed his lips again, desperate to be able to do some of the action yourself, you pushed his chest, making him inch backwards as you crawled to him, lips still connected to his.

You sat up and his fingers started toying with the knot from your loincloth, still not stopping the kiss as he worked his hands behind your waist.

Neteyam's fingers worked quickly as he untied the knot and slid off the loincloth from under your womanhood. He lifted you off of his lap and placed your back on the bed while he laid next to you, his hands roamed over your body and made their way to your core. Neteyam gently massaged your nub, earning an erotic moan from you. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth as he used his hand to spread your legs wider and brush his fingers over your clit, speeding up as the kiss grew more heated with each passing second.

"Oh.. fuck" you managed out as your hands fell on his, guiding him to a quicker speed.

"Mmm, you like that don't you, sweetheart?" Neteyam let out a smirk as you nodded a desperate 'yes' a your eyes scrunched closed. His hands made their way down to your entrance and he inserted a finger, making you groan in response.

"Fuck..." you groaned as Neteyam stretched you out, making way for his other fingers.

"If I remember reading correctly, you did write that you would be grateful even if you could have just my fingers inside of you. How's that coming out to be?" Neteyam smirked as you moan out a 'good.'

"More, please" you whined out as you attempted to close your legs to gain more friction.

"I can't give you more if you don't open your legs for me. My hands are trapped between your thighs right now syulang." Neteyam's hand moved up to pry your legs open, and you sighed at the slight loss of friction.

"No need to worry, your wish is my command sweetheart." And with that he inserted his second and third fingers without warning. Deep inside of your warmth, he moved his fingers in and out, making sure to hit all the spots of your wet walls.

"Shit....shit! Go faster!" you moaned out in a high pitched voice, convinced that if it weren't for the oxygen sealed doors and windows soundproofing your room, all of the scientists would have been raising their eyebrows by now.

"How's that? Enjoying it?" Neteyam managed out between kisses.

"Fuck yes!" you threw your head back in pleasure as you felt yourself nearing your orgasm.

Neteyams worked his magic in you, sparing your poor pussy no mercy as his fingers pumped in and out while his thumb played with your nub at an increasingly quick pace causing your eyes to cross for a split second as you covered your mouth as to not scream. Holding yourself up with your elbows, you watched as the Na'vi in front of you worked tirelessly to get you to explode.

"Neteyam! I'm getting close... I'm- I'm gonna..." You threw head back once more as your knuckles turned white from grabbing the bed sheets.

"Come! Fucking do it baby, I know it's in you!" Neteyam accelerated his pace as his fingers moved vigorously in and out of you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

"Ah- ahh... fuuuck" You let out a loud whine as your hips buck up and down while your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes close tightly making you see stars and your mouth falls agape as low whimpers leave your throat.

"Nghh.. oh my god.." you squeal out under his touch before he slows down and pulls his fingers out. Neteyam lifts up his hand and brings it up to your face, drenched fingers brush across your lips as you open your mouth and give a thorough suck.

"Mmm, that's a good girl" Neteyam praises as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, licking them clean of any residue. With a 'pop' sound, he pulls his fingers from between your lips and you sit up, looking at him with your big yellow eyes as you tug on his loincloth.

"Ready for round two, already?" You give a small nod and Neteyam lays you on your side and props your right leg up.

He positions himself behind you as your hands work beside you, helping untie his loincloth. Springing out, his length smacks your ass and Neteyam lets out a small sigh of relief. He spits on his hand before making it down between his legs and giving himself a few pumps.

Neteyam brushes his cock against your slick cunt, earning a light moan from you as he rubs it around your entrance.

"You ready sweetheart? I'll go nice and slow for you." Neteyam gives a small peck on your lips before you answer with a small 'yes.' He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes his mushroomy tip in, slowly driving his full length inside of you.

"Nghh.." was all you managed to let out before he asks 'are you okay' and you give a small nod. His dick goes all the way in and you can feel his tip against your cervix.

"Fuck, you're so big..." you squirm yourself around as you try to get used to the new feeling.

"You said you wanted to try it." Neteyam lets out a small chuckle at your struggle. "Ready?" He asks, making sure that you're all stretched out before moving."

"Of course," and with that, he pulls himself out completely before thrusting in with full force, making you yelp in surprise. Neteyam starts thrusting in and out of you, filling the room with sounds of skin smacking against each other.

"Shit" he groans out, untying your top as he continues smacking himself into you. Neteyam grabs your breast in his hand and starts sucking as his hips pick up in pace, making you moan aloud.

"Fuckk...fuckk"

"Enjoying that, princes?"

"Yes. I love it so much!" you whine out as his dick hits against your cervix, making you shut your eyes in pain and pleasure. You can't help but tighten around him as he plays with your breast and his lips leave a trail of kisses on the back of your neck.

"Fuckkk, too big!" you let out in almost a scream before he wraps his hand around your neck, applying just a small amount of pressure.

"y/n, stop that... you're gonna make me spill inside of you if you keep squeezing yourself around me like that." Neteyam warned with a light smack on your botton.

"I can't...help it... You fuck me so good!" You let out in between breaths. Neteyam pounds himself into you, making you whine out incoherent nonsense and you can't help but tighten your walls again.

"Fuck...fuck!" Neteyam grits between his teeth and you can tell he's near his high as his hips start moving desperately.

"I *thrust* think *thrust* I'm *thrust* gonna *thrust* come!" Neteyam lets out in a groan before you feel his hot cum spill all over your insides making you moan at the feeling. His white juices overflow your insides and soon spill out, dripping down to underside of your legs.

"Mmm, princess, you look so fucking good with your pretty little hole filled up like that." Neteyam goes back to kissing the sides of your neck and once again, his fingers start playing with your insides while you play with his length in your hands, trying to harden him up again.

"Shit," he huffs out in sensitivity as your finger plays with the tip of his cock, swiping it over and over again.

"Alright let me finish you up, I've got this." Neteyam gives your thigh a light pat and you let go of him, letting him take control of his length and bringing it to you entrance again.

He thrusts into you without warning and you yelp out. His thrusts continue roughly, not giving you time to adjust. Neteyam hits your insides repeatedly and it makes you whimper in pleasure.

"Ah- ah! Neteyam... I'm close!" You let out in between whimpers as your hands search for anything to grab onto while your orgasm approaches.

"Mmm....fuck. Good, you're almost there sweetheart" Neteyam grunts out as his hips continue pushing into your rear.

"I'm gonna- I think... I'm gonna come!" You let out in a loud whine and Neteyam pulls out before pushing himself back in completely, causing you to moan aloud as your orgasm hits you, making your back arch and your legs tremble as you grab onto him while you squirm around as Neteyam pounds into you as fast as he can.

He pulls out, leaving you to squirt your juices all over your legs and on the bed. Your hips heave up and down as the clear liquid jets out of you, leaving you breathless until your high calms down and your legs stop shaking.

"Holy shit..." Neteyam lets out in a small chuckle as he stares in amazement.

"Well... that was intense" you break the silence and the both of you stare at each other before breaking out into small giggles.

"Are you alright, was I too rough with you?" Neteyam gently rubs your shoulders as the both of you lay down, flat on your backs, exhausted.

"No... you were fine. It was good." You flash him a shy smile.

"So, was it everything you expected... or did you I let you down?" He asks with a small chuckle.

"It was... interesting... definitely better than I expected." You chuckle as you lay your head in the crook of his neck.

"So I guess we can say... your wish has been fulfilled." Neteyam pokes your cheek, teasing you.

"I guess so..." you hide your blushing cheeks on his collarbone as he laughs at your shy antics. He slightly lifts up your face and gives you a small peck on your forehead as the both of you bask in each other's warmth.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

HEW, did this take FOREVER to write, OMG! But I'm so glad that I finally got it out! Thank you for this wonderful and super fun request, it was definitely a hell of a journey to write but I really enjoyed it! Hope you guys enjoyed it as well.

as always, comments/reblogs are always much appreciated as they help support and motivate your favorite writers, thank you❤!

do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad

colors used: (1, 219, 250) and (1, 179, 204,)

694 notes · View notes

lauraneedstochill · 2 years

Text

My first choice (part 1/2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eyed prince to fall in love with. pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~ 5500 warnings: friends to lovers, slow burn (with very obvious mutual pining), angst, Aegon is a sad boy (but ends up being a pretty good wingman!) author’s note: this is inspired by “Little women” and Amy March in particular. I took the liberty to rewrite some plot lines because to me Aemond is nothing like Laurie (Aegon is ;) and I hate love triangles so we are not having any of that sorry. it’s a bit of a roller coaster so I divided it into 2 parts: the first one explains Aemond’s feelings, the second one is about hers. ✨ part 2

Part 1. How could you be so blind. Aegon knows he’s supposed to be relieved — he never wanted the crown and now that Rhaenyra is the Queen and a feast is arranged in her honor, he should be celebrating. And he may have been hitting the wine way too hard for the past couple of hours, but he can’t pretend to be happy, and he gave up trying to force a smile. It’s ridiculous that he is upset over this, and yet he can’t help but feel horribly useless. The prince drinks one cup after another until the room starts spinning and he can’t even sit straight — and then he suddenly finds himself propped against the wall, sliding under the table instead of sitting at it. Aegon catches a few judgemental glances but at this point, he couldn’t care less. There is only one person whose judgment he is afraid of — and it’s not long before he’s greeted with a displeased remark:

“When I asked you not to swoop too low, I couldn’t imagine you would literally lay on the floor.”

He looks up — and here you are, staring down at him, not even trying to cover up your disappointment. At any other time, Aegon would’ve at least tried to sober up, but today he’s disappointed in himself, too, so he doesn’t make an effort. Instead, he reaches out an arm to you with a lax smile.

“Would you like to join me?”

“I didn’t get the invitation to this pity party so I will pass,” your tone suggests you are not in the mood for jesting. “Now that you’ve succeeded in making a fool out of yourself, would you mind getting upright?”

“I think I like it here,” he retorts, shamelessly staring at the legs of the maids passing by.

“You like wallowing in misery for all to see?” you huff. “Aegon, get up.”

He fakes a whine. “My legs gave out, I’m afraid!”

“You would need to drink all the wine in the castle for that to happen, and I doubt you managed to do that,” you roll your eyes, taking a step toward him — but pause upon hearing a voice behind your back:

“You underestimate my brother.”

Aemond has a habit of sneaking up on people which often startles you yet right now you are too angry at Aegon to be bothered. You throw Aemond a glare over your shoulder but your eyes soften when you see the apologetic look on his face. It’s not the first time that the two of you find yourself in this situation — throughout the years you learned to work as a team: you bring Aegon back to his senses while Aemond helps to physically bring him to the nearest flat surface. You have never asked him for help — and yet he’s always there.

Aemond is about to lean down to help his brother up — you stop the one-eyed prince with your hand, your palm inches away from his chest. Anyone else would’ve thought twice before standing in his way but you don’t hesitate.

“He is perfectly capable to get up on his own,” you reject Aemond’s attempt, your eyes fixed on Aegon. “He can hold onto the wall shall he feel unable to stay on his two feet.”

There is something in your gaze that makes Aegon uncomfortable, piercing him to the bone. You are never downright mean or rude but with just a few words you can easily unmask his feigned recklessness. The prince stands up, tottering and feeling a little light-headed.

“Are you happy, now when I’m in the standing position?”

“If you cared about anyone else's feelings but your own, you wouldn’t be in this position,” you scold him while Aemond takes his brother under the arm to guide him out. Aegon tries to grab another cup of wine but you slap his hand.

“Do you ever get ashamed of yourself?” you hiss at him.

“Let me think... No, why would I?” he sounds sarcastic.

“You should be,” you whisper scream at him. “You can find nothing to do but dawdle and make a mockery of yourself!”

Aemond feels his brother shuddering at your words, and he tightens his hold on Aegon.

“Well, what else am I to do,” his voice is bitter. “Since I am not an heir and serve no purpose to the realm nor do I have any taste for duty.”

You slow your pace, and a sigh leaves your mouth.

“I feel sorry for you, Aegon, I do. I only wish you’d bear it better,” you reach out to stroke his arm but the prince bristles.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Your duty is to marry, and we will see how that goes,” he mutters before he can stop himself — and regrets it the very next second when you swiftly turn to him.

“At least I would be respected if I couldn’t be loved,” your tone hushed but sharp.

Aegon stops dead in his tracks, his wide eyes meeting yours. You moved away from the crowd into the hall, and it becomes silent. And then his lower lip quivers.

“But I thought that you loved me,” Aegon whimpers, his assumed nonchalance instantly gone.

“Oh, Aegon, how much did you have to drink?” you come to his side, lending him a shoulder to cry on. While he’s aggressively sniffling, you look at Aemond and quietly mouth “How many cups?”

“Way more than usual,” he gives you a wan smile, and you groan at his answer, taking Aegon by the arm.

“Alright, you can lean on me. But don’t get handsy or I will push you down the stairs,” your remark earns a weak laugh from the older prince, and the three of you head toward his chambers.

Aegon doesn’t talk much but his mood softens and you exchange a few jokes before finally reaching his room.

“I can take it from here,” Aemond suggests but his brother eagerly protests.

“No, I want to be tucked into bed! And definitely not by you,” he sticks out his tongue, and you chuckle at his whim.

“Aemond, I can handle him.”

The one-eyed prince shoots you a knowing glance and holds the door open for you and Aegon to walk in. You slowly move to his bed, making sure he doesn’t stumble on his way — and then, with a sudden boost of energy, the prince flops down on the fluffy blankets, letting out a satisfied moan. You hold back a giggle and wait for him to crawl under the covers.

“Should I call for the maid to help you undress?”

“No, I am way too comfortable like this,” he pulls the blanket up to his chin, and you sit on the edge of the bed.

“I am sorry for the way I behaved,” he reveals, frowning. “I did not mean to, truly.”

“Aegon, you know I’m not the one you should apologize to,” you take his hand in yours, and he squeezes it with childish eagerness. “You left Helaena all alone. And you promised me you would make an effort.”

“I know, I know,” he yawns. “I was doing better until today, I swear, you should ask her,” his speech becomes incoherent as he is already too drowsy to talk, his cheeks flushed from the wine and the heat of the blankets. As you stand up to leave, Aegon mumbles:

“I fetched you a book... the one you were looking for,” he sloppily points to his table by the window before dozing off.

There is only one book so it’s easy to find — and when you do, you can barely contain a sound of surprise: it’s the complete history of Westeros, heavy and hardcover, decorated with gilding. You glance at Aegon but he looks fast asleep so you cautiously get out of his chambers.

If you were to turn around, you would’ve noticed that he kept an eye on you with a grin on his face.

When you walk out, you see Aemond still standing there, his gaze landing on the book and then immediately on you. It takes you a minute to figure it out and then you smile at him:

“Even though I appreciate the gesture, it is hard to imagine Aegon in the library.”

“He asked me to help him find the book you wanted. I did,” the prince explains as if it isn’t that big of a deal. But to you, it is — although you think he only did it out of politeness.

“Thank you, Aemond,” you enthusiastically turn your attention to the book, flipping through the pages in awe. He watches you, feeling the warmth in his chest at the sight of your joy.

“You know that you bring out the best in him?” Aemond says in a low voice, and your heart skips a beat at his comment. You are thankful for the dim lighting that makes your heated cheeks less obvious.

“You overestimate my influence,” you say, then dither before admitting, “I’m afraid I was too hard on him today.”

“Someone has to do it,” Aemond objects, and there’s something in his tone — sincere and soft, that makes you look at him again. At this moment, away from the prying eyes and the pressure of everyone’s expectations, you can see the side of him that people rarely get acquainted with.

“I think you are doing a pretty good job, too,” you tell the prince, finding his presence ever so calming. You could never understand why would anyone call Aemond intimidating when he’s been nothing but kind to you ever since you two met. Whenever you have a chance to be alone with him, his company always brings you comfort, and that feeling is so rare, you want to chase it.

But then you remind yourself of the harsh reality, and your smile falters.

“I’m sorry you had to get involved,” you look down at the book. “I wouldn’t want to distract you.”

“You need to elaborate on that,” Aemond says uncomprehendingly.

“I’ve heard that you were courting lady Baratheon,” you explain casually, avoiding his gaze.

He hesitates before answering.

“Well, I only plan to,” the prince clarifies. “If she accepts my advances.”

“It would be silly of her not to,” you blurt out and, while you can’t see it, Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“She may have her reasons —”

“I can’t come up with a single one,” you tell him with so much confidence, Aemond’s heart flutters at your words but you continue without a second thought. “You are intelligent, good-hearted, handsome — and a really skilled swordsman. Not to mention you have the biggest dragon in the realm, which does sound like a reasonable perk.”

The prince is glad that you’re too preoccupied with the book to see his stunned expression. It’s not just the fact that you compliment him so easily — but also the way you do it. When other people try to, they usually start with Vhagar as if the old grumpy creature is the main good thing about Aemond. But you only bring up the dragon at the very end and in passing, instead keeping the focus on the prince. He is silent for a moment, letting your words sink into his memory.

And then Aemond persuades himself that you only said it out of politeness.

You notice his lack of response — and you are about to question it when a maid comes to you in haste:

“Lady Y/N, your presence is needed. Your father is looking for you.”

“Better not keep him waiting,” the prince encourages you with a grin. “If he finds Aegon, he might hug him to death.”

You playfully elbow him and turn to follow the maid but then stop to say. “Please make sure your brother stays in bed.”

“Will do,” Aemond looks at you walking away, clutching the book to your chest as if it's the most precious thing in the world.

To this day, it is truly a mystery to him how Aegon managed to befriend someone like you. You met the Targaryen brothers when your family was invited to one of the royal feasts. You were ten-and-three, the middle one of three sisters. Your oldest — Elaesa — has been the center of attention, beautiful and graceful, but while everyone’s eyes were on her, you looked a little bit disoriented. It was the first feast that you’ve attended, and maybe you got too agitated or overwhelmed — or both — but soon you ended up lost in the castle, and somehow ripped the hem of your dress in the process.

Aemond was the one to find you. The prince has never been keen on taking part in celebrations, often sneaking away from all the noise. That’s when he saw you — fussing with the dress, your sobs echoing through the hall.

“Are you hurt?” he rushed to your side, and you looked up at him with blubbered eyes.

“Why do you have so many halls? You should hand out maps so people can find their way back,” despite being clearly upset, you sounded unusually serious, and Aemond fought back a smile.

“I can help you find your parents without a map,” he suggested, and for a second it seemed to lighten your mood but then your pout worsened.

“I cannot go back,” you gestured at the dress. “I am in such trouble!” you whined, the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

Truth be told, Aemond didn’t have much experience with ladies back then nor did he know a thing about dresses but your distress seemed so genuine he couldn’t leave you be.

“It is not that bad,” he pointed at the ripped material. “I can ask our seamstress to take a look.”

You studied his face for a second, then glanced back at the dress — surprisingly, that was all it took for you to stop crying, and no other coaxing was needed. You wiped your nose and fixed your hairdo, smoothing the damaged hem the best you could.

“I’d appreciate it if you help me find my way back,” you said, your face seemingly more relaxed.

Getting you to talk was pretty easy, and Aemond shortly discovered how open-minded and outspoken you were, using your quick thinking to compensate for your timid personality. When you returned to the hall of the Iron Throne, he was reluctant to let you go but promised to come back with the seamstress. The task only took him about ten minutes, but when he did reappear, you were not alone — Aegon was standing next to you, making you laugh so hard, it looked like you forgot about the dress already. Aemond didn’t mean to interrupt as he suddenly felt very out of place, uninvited in his own home, so he abandoned the idea of helping you and just left.

At first, he thought you fell for Aegon’s flirtatious charms but soon learned that, as much as you did like his brother’s humor, his charms had no effect on you. On the contrary, you often chided him for hitting on young girls and openly condemned his affection for wine. Your honesty set you apart from all the ladies Aegon was surrounded with — and that was the reason he came to enjoy your company as much as he did. Despite the three years age gap, you were the one who told him the truth, no matter how ugly it might’ve been, but you did so without prejudice or any ill intentions. You would usually follow your critique with advice or a solution of some sort to keep the prince away from unnecessary trouble. That is why you were on friendly terms with Helaena, too, and your influence was also welcomed by Alicent, the then Queen. She liked that you were straightforward with your remarks and often said that you were wise beyond your years. Although, as much as Aemond agreed with it, he suspected there was a reason you had to grow up early.

It happened the same year you met — your older sister, with all her grace and beauty, ran away from home to elope with some unworthy beggar. Your mother was inconsolable for at least a week, saying that Elaesa brought shame upon her family. Your father, the kind man that he is, forgave his daughter fairly quickly and tried his best to restore peace. And yet, you came to realize that Elaesa’s vagary did cast a shadow over your House. Your youngest sister, Alyna, was a fragile little thing, frequently sick and tacit — which left you to be the one representing your family in the eyes of society.

Within a few years, there wasn’t a thing you weren’t good at: lords lined up to have a dance with you, ladies admired how well-spoken you were and shared a laugh at your florid sarcasm, and you learned to embroider, to ride a horse, to walk exquisitely dressed and with impeccable posture. But while for everyone else it was a reason to compliment you, Aemond saw the underlying cause of your diligence — the corrosive desire to prove one’s worth which was something he learned to live with as well. And which led him to think he understood you better than anyone.

More often than not he found himself watching you as if he had the need to make sure you weren’t in harm’s way. Helping you with Aegon was a part of that routine but it also gave him a chance to be alone with you. You talked about everything and nothing in particular, and he would catch glimpses of you — the real you, shy and emotional at times, but still understanding and perceptive. He cherished every opportunity to steal you away from the never-ending chattering, from lords ogling at you, from Jason Lannister whose interest in your company should’ve been concerning. Aemond has gotten so used to observing you, so enthralled with your covert conversations, he didn’t realize that a particular feeling was creeping up on him. But there was one person who turned out to be more observant than Aemond has been. Aegon was the mere reason why his brother ended up at your door a few days later. Aemond’s been to your place a couple of times and he promptly memorized the way to the farthest room of the house — the one you used to paint in. It was the only thing you truly allowed yourself to enjoy, an unexpected talent of yours which you soon perfected, too, except it wasn’t meant for the others to marvel at but plainly for you to keep your head occupied, to have some quiet time.

He walks in when you are already painting the finishing touches. When you turn to greet him, you stop mid-sentence, seeing that it’s Aemond instead of his brother who you were waiting for.

“He overslept,” the younger prince shrugs. “It isn’t a bothersome task to come pick up the portrait of my nephews.”

You point in the direction of the painting with the brush in your hand. Aemond admires your work — as he always does — while you try to shake off your confusion. There is another reason you did not expect to see Aemond today. You tarry with voicing your concern but eventually glance at him with empathy.

“I was sorry to hear about lady Baratheon’s decision.”

“I was not,” he’s quick to retort.

“I cannot imagine agreeing to marry a Stark,” you say, dipping a brush in a jar of water.

“Is it the cold weather?” Aemond grins knowingly.

“Yes! Gods, just thinking about it makes me feel uneasy. All the layers you have to wear to keep yourself warm, barely being able to move, getting no sunlight...,” you ramble, making sure to wet all the brushes before lining them up on the table.

“Some say they’ve got quite a beautiful scenery,” Aemond tries to object although he knows his argument doesn’t stand a chance.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy that,” you huff. “How am I to capture the beauty if my paint freezes?”

He only hums in agreement, watching you busy yourself with your supplies. You go through the brushes, delicately cleaning the bristles with a cloth. Your fingers carefully take one brush after the other, and Aemond silently admires your love for neatness and order.

“You are staring,” you say without turning to him.

“Where do you want me to look at?”

“Aemond, you are in a room full of art!” you chuckle lightly. “Surely, enough options to land your eye on.”

The prince lets his gaze go around the place, and it takes him about a minute to quickly examine all the paintings. And then he inevitably looks at you again. Aemond thinks he likes this view the most.

“When do you begin your next great work of art?” he asks, hoping to distract you.

You halt movement, then force out glumly:

“Never.”

“What do you mean?” he’s taken by surprise.

“I’ve come to realize that I’d never be a genius,” you reluctantly explain. “So I’m giving up all my foolish artistic hopes.”

“You cannot be serious. You have so much talent and —”

“Talent isn’t genius!” you throw up your hands in defeat, and he can sense your frustration from a distance. “I may be talented in other things, but when it comes to painting, I want to be great or nothing. And I am only of middling talent,” you scoop up the brushes, give them a quick look and place in another jar to dry.

Aemond wants to argue, he really does — but he also knows better than to try and persuade you when you are like this: firmly standing your ground, exuding nothing but stubbornness. In any other situation, he would’ve found it endearing but it’s upsetting to see you downplaying your brilliance.

“Hm, may I at least ask your last portrait to be of me?”

You instantly turn to him, taken aback. Throughout the years you’ve known him, he clearly expressed that he did not like being painted, and you only could make a quick sketch or two, at best, when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Alright,” the long-awaited opportunity makes you smile. “Next time I come for breakfast, I will drag you into the garden to pose for me,” you give him a pointed look, and Aemond humbly nods.

Your smile grows wider but you try to tone it down, afraid to spook him, and focus on wiping the nearest table.

“What are you going to do with your life in the meantime?” he changes the subject.

“Polish up my other skills and become an ornament to society,” you sigh, putting the cloth away.

There’s a brief pause before he says, his voice a bit strained:

“Here is where Jason Lannister comes in, I suppose?”

You say yes but the answer comes a little bit too fast, and Aemond notices that the topic makes you uncomfortable.

“But you are yet to be betrothed to him,” he clarifies, gaze fixed on you.

“I will be if he proposes,” your eyes meet his, and you are sure that there’s a shadow of disapproval on his face that only spurs your stubbornness. You fully turn to the prince to say: “I always knew I had to marry well, I do not feel ashamed of that.”

But Aemond isn’t looking for a fight — he swiftly corrects himself:

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. As long as...” — he can barely bring himself to say it — “As long as you love him.”

For the reason unknown to Aemond, his statement brings a bleak smile to your face.

“I believe we can have some power over who we love,” you object, lowering your gaze for a second as you start absentmindedly twisting the ring on your finger.

“I think the poets would disagree,” he chuckles, trying to defuse the unexpected tension.

But when you look up at him, your glare is as obdurate as ever.

“Well, I am not a poet, I am just a woman,” you rebut crisply. “And as a woman, I have no illusions about my prospects which do not include me earning a living to support my family. And my parent’s fortune has its limits as I’ve come to learn. Hence why, if I want to have children — I do — and be able to provide them with everything they wish for, I must rely on my husband,” that last word is pronounced with disappointment. “So don’t stand here and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it certainly is for me.”

Had he not known you, Aemond would’ve been very impressed — with how blunt and witty you are, you are very good at delivering speeches. But as he’s standing in front of you, watching your face, he senses that your determination is akin to despair. Aemond thinks he might take a chance at arguing with you, after all — but you’re both startled by a knock on the door:

“Lady Y/N, Ser Lannister just arrived.”

You look baffled for a second, your confidence crumbling.

“Why would he — I, I didn’t expect him today,” you mumble, almost ashamed of his arrival.

Yet you pull yourself together faster than Aemond can come up with a reason for you to stay. You remove your apron and quickly examine your dress, then move to put on a cape.

“Did I miss any paint stains?” you ask Aemond in a haste.

“No,” he looks over the flowing material of your neat dress, your hair knotted up high — and then, “...Wait!”

You stop abruptly while he grabs a clean cloth.

“There is something on your cheek,” he says as you both step toward each other — and in the next second you are suddenly standing too close.

You turn to him and shyly shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Aemond is frozen for a moment but then carefully wipes away a slight smudge of green from under your cheekbone. His hand unwillingly lingers as he examines the delicate features of your face. You open your eyes, looking at the prince questingly. His facial expression is unreadable but it makes you wish you didn’t have to go.

You brush away that silly thought and stand back, fixing your cape.

“How do I look? Do I look alright?”

“You look beautiful,” Aemond says with no hesitation, taking you in — with your cheeks a bit flushed, lip parted and eyes shining. “You are beautiful.”

You seem a bit bewildered at his words but then a smile grows on your face — and in a blink of an eye, you’re gone. The prince is left standing there, staring at the spot where you were just now. The room suddenly feels so empty without you — and so does his heart.

The realization strikes Aemond like lightning: he wants to be the one you come to, at all times. The one holding your hand, watching you paint, or read, or dance — watching you do whatever your heart desires. Because his only desire is to be with you. That thought puts down roots deep into his chest, and he doesn’t know how to pluck it out.

Nor does he want to. It’s all he can think about for the duration of the week, until you come to the castle — with canvas and supplies, not hiding your excitement. He almost forgot about his promise but follows you into the garden without objection. You sense a slight change in Aemond’s behavior, him being more quiet than usual, but decide not to push the prince so he won’t reconsider.

“I will start with a sketch and then we will go from there. Alright?”

He just hums in response while looking at you but you are unaware of the meaning behind his gaze.

“Take any pose you like, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you suggest with a half-smile, knowing full well he will probably remain standing.

And he does, arms clasped behind his back, his eye never leaving your face. You immerse in the process too quickly to be bothered, the piece of charcoal in your hand sliding over the paper, leaving lines and shadows. Drawing Aemond is an effortless task, and you can only enjoy how easy it is to sketch the sharp contours of his face and his lean body. The simplicity can also be explained by the fact that you've already memorized all the details by heart: the curves of his cheekbones and his lips, the flow of his silver hair, the shape and cut of his eye.

When you are finally satisfied, you can’t tell if it’s been an hour or three, and the prince, as it seems, hasn’t moved a muscle. At this point, Aemond’s demeanor does worry you yet you blame it on his nervousness.

“Want to take a look?” you hand him a few sketches. “Mind you, I’m not finished so please don’t judge too harshly —”

“I could never,” his hand brushes yours when he takes the drawings.

Aemond has seen your works before but it’s a whole new experience when he’s the one being portrayed. He almost doesn’t recognize himself — you didn’t miss a single feature of his yet somehow this version of him looks too beautiful to be real. He is at a loss for words until he spots that there's another drawing hidden underneath. It’s a sketch of him sitting, both arms on the table, his face looks like he’s deep in his thoughts.

“When did you do this one?”

“After the coronation,” the memory makes you smile. “Made my poor father lug around with charcoal in his pockets while he was trying to keep up the conversation with Ser Lannister.”

It was the day you got introduced to Jason. You were supposed to be by his side, with your charming smile and polite talks, yet you spend your time drawing Aemond. He can imagine your gaze focused on the piece of paper, the way you must’ve been looking at him to capture every detail and movement — all of that without him asking to, without him even noticing. There is so much care in that act, he is unexpectedly moved by it.

The words leave his mouth before he can think them over:

“Don’t marry him.”

His request makes your hands tremble, and you drop the piece of charcoal, slowly looking up at Aemond, the smile disappearing from your face. He did not mean that, you must’ve misunderstood.

“...What?”

Aemond turns to you, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Don’t marry him,” he repeats, helplessly and desperately.

“Why?” you ask in disbelief, suddenly having trouble breathing. The only reason you can think of sounds delusional, close to impossible. You wait for him to come up with some clever explanation — instead, he comes closer to you, his gaze so warm it makes your cheeks burn.

“You know why,” Aemond says and his hand gently lands on yours. You look down at it, perplexed, your mouth opening and closing, heart rate speeding up.

He keeps his eye on your face as he waits for your reply. You are not repulsed nor angry — which is supposed to be a good sign — but the reaction he gets is actually worse than that. Because when you finally glance at him, you look hurt.

“No,” you yank away your hand as if his touch stung. “No, Aemond, you are being mean, stop it,” you take a step back, your eyes glossy and lips tight. The look you give causes him physical pain — while you are trying your best to fight back the tears.

His intelligence clearly fails him because Aemond has no clue what’s going on. He feels like there is a deeper meaning to your words but he does not get it.

“Why am I being mean?” he asks incredulously as you slowly continue putting more distance between you two.

You don’t even realize you are doing it — it’s almost an urge to not be in his presence, for the first time ever. The weight of his words feels suffocating and merciless. How easy it is for him to toy with your emotions, you think, and that cruelty of his — as you see it — wounds you so deeply, he might as well put a torch to your heart.

“I have felt like everyone’s second choice my entire life,” you bemoan, not being able to keep your agony bottled up any longer. “In everything, no matter how hard I’ve worked to be better. I thought you out of all people would understand that,” you sound raspy, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“So I will not be the person you settle for just because your first marriage proposal was turned down,” only when your voice shudders, Aemond finally understands how wrongfully you interpreted his intentions.

But you are out of his reach already — at least ten feet away from him, and the distance separates you like a giant chasm.

“No, I won’t. I can’t,” you are hurting so much, your feelings spill out like blood from a wound. “I can’t do it. Not when I have spent years loving you.”

His breathing hitches as your confession pierces through his chest — and he is left speechless, deafened by it. The moment slips through his fingers with unforgiving pace: you were standing so close only a minute ago — and now you are turning your back to him, rushing away. The last thing he sees is how broken you look, your shoulders slumped and eyes brimming with tears.

Aemond stands, shocked and paralyzed until it’s too late — the garden is silent with your absence and the only evidence of you being there is your supplies scattered on the ground. Your words are ringing in his head, his heart heavy with a dreadful feeling.

He was afraid he would never have you — but he actually could have.

If only he wasn’t so blind.

➡ Part 2

yes, this is me blabbing again: I’ve watched this movie an embarrassing amount of times, and I’ve wanted to write a fic based on it for a few months. I did rephrase a couple of quotes but still tried my best to do the story justice. my apologies for the angst — just so you know, it was painful to write. also, will I ever stop using friends to lovers trope? only time will tell! (I probably won’t, though) I know there is a very heartwarming fic by aemonds-war-crime that was also based on “Little women” and it’s only fair that I link it as well!

tagging @greenowlfactif because you asked 💙 comments and opinions are VERY welcomed! 🥺 🎨 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #<<< PLS don’t be mad! I know Aegon isn’t the main character but he has a meaningful role #so I thought maybe I should add his tag too... (PLS DON’T BE MAD)#on a completely unrelated note I decided to start with dialogue(s) and then bring the backstory #I think it’s more engaging??? but we’ll see how that goes #also it was a conscious decision to start with Aemond’s side of the story — just so it comes as a surprise when she says ‘hey I loved you f #(I mean it obviously won’t be surprising if you saw the movie...)#ALSO I really hope you guys will want the second part (’cause I already wrote it lmao)#my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst

2K notes · View notes

reality-detective · 6 months

Text

Was the Baltimore Bridge attacked? 👇

The Baltimore bridge collapse was an “absolutely brilliant strategic attack” on US critical infrastructure - most likely cyber - & our intel agencies know it. In information warfare terms, they just divided the US along the Mason Dixon line exactly like the Civil War.

Second busiest strategic roadway in the nation for hazardous material now down for 4-5 years - which is how long they say it will take to recover. The bridge was built specifically to move hazardous material - fuel, diesel, propane gas, nitrogen, highly flammable materials, chemicals and oversized cargo that cannot fit in the tunnels - that supply chain now crippled.

Make no mistake: this was an extraordinary attack in terms of planning, timing & execution.

The two critical components on that bridge are the two load-bearing pylons on each end, closest to the shore. They are bigger, thicker and deeper than anything else. These are the anchor points and they knew that hitting either one one of them would be a fatal wound to the integrity of the bridge.

Half a mile of bridge went in the river - likely you will have to build a new one. Also caused so much damage to the structural integrity of the bottom concrete part that you cannot see & won’t know until they take the wreckage apart. Structural destruction is likely absolutely.

Attack perfectly targeted.

“They have figured out how to bring us down. As long as you stay away from the teeth of the US military, you can pick the US apart. We are an arrogant and ignorantly - lethal combination. Obama said they would fundamentally change America and they did. We are in a free-fall ride on a roller coaster right now - no brakes - just picking up speed.”

The footage shows the cargo ship never got in the approach lane in the channel. You have to be in the channel before you get into that turn. Location was precise/deliberate: They chose a bend in the river where you have to slow down and commit yourself - once you are committed in that area there is not enough room to maneuver.

Should have had a harbor pilot to pilot the boat. You are not supposed to traverse any obstacles without the harbor pilot.

They chose a full moon so they would have maximum tidal shift - rise and fall. Brisk flow in that river on a normal day & have had a lot of rain recently so water was already moving along at a good pace.

Hit it with enough kinetic energy to knock the load-bearing pylon out from under the highway - which fatally weakens the span and then 50 percent of the bridge fell into the water.

All these factors when you look at it - this is how you teach people how to do this type of attack and there are so few people left in the system who know this. We have a Junior varsity team on the field.

Tremendous navigational obstruction. Huge logistical nightmare to clean this up. The number of dead is tragic but not the whole measure of the attack.

That kind of bridge is constantly under repair - always at night because there is so much traffic and they cannot obstruct that during the day. So concern is for repair guys who were on foot (out of their vehicles) working who may now be in the water - 48 degrees at most at this time of year.

When you choke off Baltimore you have cut the main north-south hazardous corridor (I-95) in half. Now everyone has to go around the city - or go somewhere else.

To move some of that cargo through the tunnel you may be able to get a permit but those are slow to get and require an escort system that is expensive and has to be done at night.

For every $100 dollars that goes into the city, $12 comes from shipping. Believe this will cripple the city of Baltimore at a time when they do not have the resources to recover.

- Lara Logan

The traffic issue was mentioned in this 👇 post

Maybe we have to dig deeper into this Bridge collapse further. Could it be a deeper issue? What's in those shipping containers? Who owns the ship?

Is it for this 👆

It has been 3 years and 3 days since the Evergreen blocked the Suez Canal. Does the number 33 mean anything?

Was this a "Black Swan Event?"

I'm just asking questions? 🤔

184 notes · View notes

silverdragonfly · 7 days

Text

Beyond the Gods' Eyes

Chapter 4 - Save Him, Save Him Not (Masterlist)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Seer Reader

Summary: Aemond's past floods you with visions, leaving you to wonder what is right and what is wrong.

Warnings: !MDNI! Mature content, including themes of death and sex. English isn't my first language.

Word Count: 6.3 K

A/N: can’t believe we’re halfway through the series already! if you haven’t buckled up yet, now’s the time! because the upcoming chapters are gonna be a wild roller coaster :) Enjoy the ride!

divider credit @cafekitsune

The curving point of the dagger would have already pierced her violet eye if not for her strong grip. Her gaze was fixed upon the symbols, thoughtfully hidden on the blade. They were illuminated by the flickering torchlight, yet invisible to most in the room. There could be no mistake—she was burdened with knowing the meaning behind the inscription.

“What have I done but what was expected of me?” a crying voice rang out, sending a shudder down you. The room wept with her pain, making you tighten your fists.

Passing through the circle of white-cloaked guards, whose armour flickered with red and yellow, you were encircled along with the two women. Their gowns swept the floor as if in a dance. One reminded you of a grown-up Aemond, the lines of her chin just as sharp, her silver braids intertwined at the back of her head like snakes. Another woman, with her fiery curls, felt dearer to you. Her hand pushed the dagger further, to no avail. A powerful urge to place your hand over hers and help guide the blade’s sharp edge forward surged within you, though you were nothing more than a breeze, unnoticed in their presence. Their lips moved quickly, but the words were muted by the burning symbols' whispers. The blade sparkled like a firefly, hypnotising, drawing you closer.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered, knitting your eyebrows.

The voices grew louder, their unknown meanings clinging to you, moulding into your skin. The ruby stone, embedded in the hilt, reminded you of the dead rose. You froze as if your body was no longer yours. Not only your limbs but parts of your soul felt numb, bringing a lethal calm to your mind. Snowflakes swirled in the air, reminding you of ashes.

“Do you see them?” Everyone, including the Queen and the Princess, was oblivious to your question.

Just before the ancient symbols consumed your mind, the sharp hiss of metal slicing through flesh cut through the air, silencing their whispers. The dagger fell with a sharp ring. The blood droplets dripped onto the floor, echoing in your ears. With that, everything around you dissolved.

Everyone was gone except for a silver-haired boy. He sat in the royal, wing-backed chair, his back turned to you. You took a few steps toward him, keeping a safe distance. His right profile was familiar, with neatly brushed hair, the first strands gathered behind. The logs in the hearth had almost died out, leaving only glowing embers. You wished to call to him, meet his gaze, reassure him. You were unnerved by the feeling of emptiness, thick and suffocating, even though it wasn't yours.

The floor creaked beneath someone’s step, causing him to lift his gaze in your direction. You pressed your hands to your mouth, though the sound you made was barely more than a slight sway in the air. Before you knew it, you tripped and fell toward the floor.

Aemond’s violet eye had a dull twin of pale pink flesh, sinking deeper into the hollow socket—an abyss of loneliness, fatality, and sorrow for all the hopes and dreams that would never come true.

A woman passed you, her green dress almost brushing against your hand. Her red hair swayed in unison with each step. She knelt before the boy, her hand resting on his cheek. An apology. For not protecting him. For not achieving justice. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Was she mourning his eye? Or the void on a deeper level that would never be filled?

As if reading her mind, his remaining eye turned a deeper shade of violet, becoming teary.

“I don’t wish for it to remain empty,” he said quietly to her.

The pressure against the bridge of your nose and forehead grew stronger, causing the room to blur into black and white. The picture crashed into pieces, like raindrops shattering against the ground.

Your eyes remained closed when the breeze caressed your face. Its touch was perhaps as gentle as hers had been against his cheek.

You were back in the garden, slowly regaining your senses. Inhaling the air greedily, you smelled the sweet scent of flowers. Your fists remained clenched tight, just like her grip around the dagger. A strange sensation ran through you as you realized your right hand wasn’t empty. Something soft yet solid rested in your palm—slippery, round, and notoriously cool, as if, for a long time, it had been removed from the warmth of flesh. Thick wetness oozed between your fingers despite your tight grip.

Your breath hitched. It couldn’t be another vision. This felt far too tangible. Therefore, there was more reason to fear what you might discover.

You forced yourself to release your grip, and a liquid lump fell, barely audible, onto the grass. Your fingers were slick with its remains, and your palm prickled, almost burning.

The world around you seemed far too bright for your eyes, as if they had been blind to sunlight for decades. Raising your trembling hand, you saw trails of transparent slickness clinging between your fingers, with tiny white specks stuck to your palm and small dents etched into the skin by your nails.

“There’s a debt to be paid,” echoed from far away.

A nauseous wave crept up your throat as you swallowed your nervousness. Your gaze slowly dropped to the ground. There, lying among the grass, was a crushed egg, its fragile shell shattered around it. But no relief came. Another crushed egg lay beside it. And another. And another. Each one was shattered in a futile attempt to restore justice that had never been served.

There was no shade in the sky hinting at the approaching storm, as if it were trying to convince you that none was coming. Yet the chill was palpable in the way the wind rattled the petals and leaves. Drops of water shimmered on the marigolds and chrysanthemums, their colours deepening in gratitude as you cared for them. A few apples landed with a thud against the ground.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a slim figure hesitating near the wicket gate. It was just the right time. He was thinner than in your vision, his dark hair contrasting sharply with his pale skin. Perhaps his wife’s disease had affected him as much as if they were one living organism.

“Enter,” your ringing voice made him shudder. He must not have seen you in the garden from afar.

Pushing the gate open, he closed it behind him carefully, as if trying not to make extra noise. His stride was slow, his shoulders slouching, like a man walking to his doom. Rising to your feet, you moved the water tank farther from the path and walked toward him.

His gaze was lowered to the ground as he remembered his carefully planned speech. “I’m Elliot, Mr. Waterwing is my fa—”

“I know who you are,” you interrupted him softly. His hazel eyes, a mixture of hope and despair, met yours. You resisted the urge to bite your inner cheek.

“Did you bring them?”

With shaking hands, he retrieved from his satchel an ivory napkin, folded so neatly it might have carried rubies. Inside were three small acorns; one still had its cap.

“They were under her pillow all night, just as you said,” he murmured, his dry, cracked lips moving quickly, reminding you of parched soil before you'd watered it.

“Good. I’ll need a little time to hold the ritual. Can you wait?”

“As long as needed.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

The tea had already been brewed; the pot and two cups were set on the wooden table beneath the apple tree. You led the way, and he followed obediently. You cast a glance at the windows of the main room; the curtains were drawn tightly, just as you’d expected.

The mugs sat on opposite sides of the table, no steam rising from the tea. Yet you knew it couldn’t cool off completely under the merciless sun.

“Put them here.” You pointed to the small grey mortar.

The acorns fell quietly into the mortar's depths. He tucked the napkin back into his satchel, his distress palpable as he lingered near the table. You could almost feel it pressing against your skin.

“You can enjoy the tea in the meantime. It’s with peppermint.” To calm his nerves. He’d suffered enough.

Sitting down, he hesitantly took the mug, his hands wrapped tightly around it as if trying to steady himself. He took a few sips, wetting his lips. His hazel eyes remained fixed on the wooden table. One could say he was uneasy in your presence, but you recognized the deeper fear hidden in his gaze—the horror that nothing could be done to save his wife, that his worst nightmare was about to become his reality.

Taking the pestle, you began grinding the acorns. You winced at the ache in your dominant hand, the pain still fresh. The echoes of the vision hovered around you; it must have been one of the strongest holds ever placed upon your mind. Yet you understood why. It was often the most painful moments that clung desperately to seers—the mind’s dire attempt to free itself of suffering by passing it on.

Once the acorns were ground into tiny pieces, you added them to your tea. Elliot’s eyes widened as you lifted the mug to your mouth. Blowing lightly onto the liquid, you took a sip. Then another.

As the taste bloomed on your tongue, you grimaced at the tingling sensation, bitter like wormwood.

“She shall live,” you said, setting the mug down with a thud.

"Merciful Gods," he sighed, a heavy breath escaping him as he lifted his gaze to the sky.

“But without the right aid,” you continued, wiping your lips with the back of your hand, “she will never regain her full strength. She must drink blackberry nightshade for three nights, and her limbs must be wrapped in woollen cloth.”

He nodded eagerly, his dark curls moving in unison. “And that is all?”

“That is all.” With a curt nod, you promptly poured the rest of the drink into the grass. You would wash the mug carefully later.

“What of the disease?” He rose quickly to his feet. “I mean, what is it?”

“An infection,” you shrugged. “Most likely consumed with some fruit. Her body suffers from intoxication. But she shall recover.”

“I… I don’t know how to thank you…” His long limbs hung awkwardly by his sides as he spoke, and you wondered what his wife had found special about him.

“Your father already did,” you assured. Eritaiol candles had banished the evil spirits, along with the vile maggots and stench, from the house. Yet Aemond and you instinctively continued to scrutinise each mouthful before eating.

Elliot let out a ringing chuckle, colour slowly returning to his face. “What are three candles compared to her life?” There was something utterly true and sincere in the way he asked the question, causing your chest to tighten. That’s what.

“The exchange was satisfactory for me,” you said humbly, bowing your head slightly.

Elliot gave you a tight-lipped smile before leaving. As he walked toward the wicket gate, his posture straightened and he somehow became taller. But, in your view, it was the hope sparkling in his eyes that made him appear much fairer.

“He left.”

“I know.”

Standing on the threshold under the roof overhang, Aemond’s gaze was fixed on the garden with such intensity that it wouldn’t surprise you if he could see through it.

“Not yet,” you murmured, taking another porcelain cup out of the water and placing it on the cloth. The remaining drops evaporated quickly before your eyes.

Leaning against the doorjamb, he remarked, “The sun has risen seven times.”

“And set six.”

“Why don’t I feel hopeful about it?” His voice wasn’t simmering with anger, but it seemed only a matter of time. You had no idea what you’d tell him if the bluebell didn’t bloom soon. The stem hadn’t even appeared through the ground yet. It had taken five suns for your mother’s peony to bloom, which left you utterly at a loss about the plan. You knew exactly what to do once the flower bloomed, but if it didn’t...

Drying your hands with a cloth, you decided to voice the question that occupied most of your thoughts. “Have you decided on your course?”

His eye shifted to you in silent question, causing you to press your lips tightly together. You knew he was perfectly aware of your inquiry. Holding his gaze steady, you had no intention of letting the conversation shift in his favour.

His jaw clenched as he asked, “Do you truly wish to know?”

“Yes,” your voice came out surprisingly steady.

He looked at you with a chilling, calculating gaze, as though weighing your worthiness for the truth.

“I will kill my uncle.” His tone was so casual that you might have thought you misheard him.

You swallowed hard. “I thought you sought reconciliation.”

“I need to ensure their safety first.”

“By killing your uncle?”

“He’s Rhaenyra’s chief pawn.”

You wondered if his disdain were lessened if her son had paid the debt with his eye. The image of his uncle was vivid in your vision; his demeanour was just as chilling as Aemond’s could be. Perhaps, under different circumstances, they could’ve found common ground. Although the possibility scared you.

“Do you plan to kill someone else?” Your voice lowered, suddenly tinged with tiredness.

“Only those who pose a threat to my family.”

Countless souls could be on this list. Your mind, trapped between visions of him, wavered, yet the reality remained unchanged. Aemond Targaryen was seeking fire and blood. He was a natural disaster, a real storm that you should fear. Your knees buckled. Sensing the change in your demeanour, he moved closer, as if closing the physical distance might bridge the gap between you.

“You may ask me this question again and again, but the answer won't change.”

You puffed out a short breath, not knowing if his honesty was a good sign. You still felt bitterness on your tongue, unsure if the acorns were to blame.

“It will be easier if you set aside your moral compass,” he reasoned calmly, almost pleading.

“I might do so now, but when I see you burning people,” your breath hitched in your throat, “it will certainly be difficult.”

“You will not see that,” he took another step toward you. “Your home, the hills, the garden, and your village... I guarantee not a single flame will touch them.” There was neither a hint of causticity nor mockery in his voice. But your mother’s words echoed loudly against his: “He’ll be ruthless in his despair.” You could trust his word today, yet once he learned of his death, the picture could be different.

“You know what I fear?” you asked, averting your gaze toward the hills as if they could somehow make you braver. “That it will be too late when you understand that cruelty and gore won’t bring their loyalty and love back.”

“Don’t—”

“If that’s what you truly want—”

“It is sufficient,” he hissed. When you looked at him, his violet eye brimmed with cold rage. But the faint tremor in his clenched fist revealed that deep down he knew the truth—that his cruelty and murders had irrevocably driven him away from what he truly yearned for, from what could save him.

Without another word, you walked past him, unable to continue this conversation. Perhaps there was only blinding darkness in his soul. Perhaps the boy you’d seen in the vision was gone. Perhaps he’d died together with Lucerys Velaryon. As you approached the wicket gate, you turned your head slightly toward him.

“How many more must fall before you see it won’t fill the void?”

Your quiet question dissolved into the melody of the wind, vanishing as if it had never been spoken.

As you hummed a song, your hands skillfully intertwined daisies and forget-me-nots, as if braiding maiden’s hair. The delicate floral crown was nearly finished, meant for someone innocent and pure. Among the wildflowers, the turmoil in your soul subsided to a barely audible whisper, yet they couldn’t answer the burdensome questions tormenting you.

In her youth, your mother would pluck a daisy and pull off each petal one by one, posing a question with each. Each petal determined a "yes" or "no," and the final petal held the answer. Sometimes, she’d ask whether you should have porridge for dinner, if the next morning would be cold, or if she should take you into town the following day. You loved porridge more than potatoes and always wanted to visit the town with her, so you kept a close watch on the number of petals remaining. When the outcome favoured you, you were overjoyed, rarely surprised by how often things turned out just as you wished.

Once, she asked if she would ever see him—your father—again. You never learned what the flower had foretold, but from that moment on, she never resorted to that method again. And you never heard about him again.

Placing the wildflower wreath on the grass, you plucked a delicate daisy. You brushed over its petals with your fingers as if they could count petals for you, to learn the answer in advance. The question trembled on your lips. No matter what the outcome, the decision was for you to make. Yet you felt at risk of learning where you truly stood.

The petal came off without resistance, and you whispered, “Save him.” Another one yielded even easier. “Save him not.”

Perhaps the right answer had been in your mind all along. Your mother had passed it to you hours before her death. All those times in childhood when you’d dared to disobey her ended in pain and sorrow. You were quick to learn she had known better.

“Save him. Save him not.” Two petals landed on the grass.

His past tugged at your heartstrings. You’d hoped to learn his weakness to manipulate him, to know where to strike at, but after all you’d seen… you could understand why. You could grasp Aemond’s actions, even though you condemned them. After seeing the first vision, you knew you’d be seeking justice for those who might fall victim to him. Yet... had anyone ever done him justice?

“Save him. Save him not.”

Perhaps the storm had already begun. It was born in your soul amidst wildflowers, uncertainty and pain. His pain had intertwined with your own. You wished it could evaporate from your soul like dew under the sun, but it seemed the visions had become an indelible imprint on your very being.

“Save him. Save him not.”

Did saving his life mean saving him? Would allowing him to escape death save his soul from further torment? Deeper nightmares? Greater loneliness?

“Save him. Save him not."

Perhaps to save Aemond was to release him from his blind, misguided beliefs and vain hopes. Perhaps to save Aemond was to grant him freedom in death.

“Save him. Save him—”

“I did not wish for us to fight.” His voice came out like a melody.

Your fingers froze tightly around the petal, its delicate life hanging in the balance.

“Neither did I,” you admitted, slowly gazing at him. His black leather coat was gone, leaving him in a white tunic that fell to his hips. He seemed so young. If his eyepatch were gone too…

Lowering himself onto the grass beside you, he nodded toward the light blue flower, intertwined with daisies. “What is this flower?”

“Forget-me-nots.”

He hummed softly, his hand hovering over the wildflower wreath for a moment before he withdrew it. “I was thinking about picking it.”

Immortal love we have for those who go before us.

Just as you were about to comment on its meaning, he added, “It reminded me of Helaena... my sister.”

Shifting your gaze from the flower to him, your lips parted. His face and shoulders were relaxed, his violet eye staring into the distance. When he spoke cold truths or threats, he never blinked, like a snake. But when his words carried something more vulnerable, his gaze seemed to thaw and, for some reason, always strayed from yours.

A breeze blew, lifting the white petals into a dance with the air, resembling ash or snow. You hadn’t noticed that your grip had loosened, and the daisy now lay helpless on your cherry-coloured dress.

“Peonies,” you whispered, “remind me of my mother.” A confession for a confession.

“Then you must understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why I have no choice but to protect them.” His gaze met yours. “Just as you had to protect your mother.”

Inhaling sharply, your voice betrayed the feeling. “That’s not the same.”

“We all must make sacrifices.”

“I didn’t cause anyone pain.”

“Can you be certain?” His eye searched your face with intensity.

“You and I,” you said, scowling and shaking your head, “are not alike.”

At least, you had to believe it.

Silence fell between you. Twirling the daisy in your hands, you tried to subdue the rising distress within. Again, you found yourself caught in the battle, where neither side would yield.

“Can’t there be another way?” you blurted out, furrowing your brow.

“Tis the only way I know.”

A distant thud echoed, punctuating his words. Dark, white-tipped clouds were rolling in. There was no denying the storm was coming after all. Gazing at the flower, with half its petals gone, it felt like you were looking at your own helplessness. A drop landed on it. Then another one on you dress. Yet your eyes were dry.

“We should go inside,” you mumbled, clearing your throat as you rose to your feet. “Before the storm begins.”

Looking up at you, his expression unreadable, he asked, “Was there another way for your mother?”

Raindrops began hitting the grass, creating a rhythm that grew louder with each passing second like a musician striking the drum harder and harder. Your chest tightened as you replied, “No.”

With that, the daisy slipped from your hand for good.

She was younger, yet seemed far older than him. You couldn’t tell if she was beautiful, but the way her eyes sparkled as she gazed at the young prince revealed her assertiveness and knowledge. She moved gracefully toward him, her maroon silk robe swaying mesmerisingly around her curves. The back of her hand brushed his cheek with a feather-light touch. He flinched slightly away—or perhaps it was you who wished him to do so. As she circled him, her hand traced his shoulders and back deliberately slowly, but his expression remained unreadable. Pausing before him, she skillfully unclasped his tunic, button by button. Her gaze never left his face, as if watching for any sign of protest, but there was none. He held his head high, his violet eye piercing the distance. In this fragment of his memory, he was more a witness than a participant.

You felt no resistance, though you prayed for it. Despite his sculpted abdominal muscles, his shoulders indicated his body was still developing and had yet to fully strengthen. His height matched hers, but he was far thinner. You wished it were your hand guiding him away from her, from this place. But it was hers leading him toward the bed. As she sat down, the silk fabric slid off with incredible ease, revealing her full breasts. He swallowed hard as she pressed his hand to her left breast, making him squeeze the soft flesh under her command. A slight crease appeared between his eyebrows, but he didn’t move. Offering him an encouraging smile, she moved his hand to the other breast, but he continued to look through her. His chest rose and fell more quickly, while yours tightened with despair.

Shifting her gaze downward, a knowing smile appeared on her lips as she noticed the bulge visible through his pants.

“May I?” she asked, her hands settling on his belt.

He gave a short nod, causing your legs to tremble, almost giving way.

You turned away. Pressing your eyelids shut, you heard his belt being unbuckled, the rustling of clothes, and the bed squeaking as another body settled onto it. The torture was brutal. Her cloying murmurs were shameful and disgusting. Instantly, you pressed your palms against your ears, wishing you could mute the panting, whimpering, and wet sounds filling the space. Your own breathing was just as loud, filled with anger and shame. The bed groaned in unison with their movements, the sound growing in your ears—or perhaps it was your heartbeat? Your hands gripped your skull with all the strength you could muster. If it shattered, the vision might end, and you'd be grateful.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. The bed squeaked a few more times, but you didn’t dare turn back. Your hands remained pressed against your ears, but more loosely.

“Did my prince like everything?” Her question was followed by the sound of liquid being poured and the clink of porcelain. It was then you realised the smell of warm milk wafted through the air.

Biting your lip, you could hear his breathing, still unsteady. His voice came out hoarse as he said, “Yes.”

The sheer curtains parted wide before you, forcing your eyes open and your hands to fall at your sides. You recognised his older brother. His violet eyes looked dull and his long silver hair hung thin and greasy. The smug smile stretching across his lips made your hands itch to slap him—perhaps more than once. His gaze was fixed on a single point, and you knew exactly who had his attention. You could practically feel Aemond shrinking under his brother’s scrutiny, yet you could tell he would maintain his composure.

“Brother!” Aegon grinned, “You’ve finally made me proud!”

His words were like a biting wind against your skin, making you shiver. Before you knew it, the candles flickered out, plunging the room into impenetrable darkness. You peered into the blackness, searching for any trace of objects or people, but there was nothing. As if the world had disappeared in the thin trails of smoke, and now with each inhale of yours, everything was buried deeper into your lungs. In this utter silence, there was not a single voice, not a sound, and what was worse, not a single rustle of nature, as if you had been plunged into a vacuum. All alone. Perhaps this was the afterlife. Soothing, endless, complete nothingness. Perhaps you had managed to squash your head like a mosquito. Your mind and soul felt at peace at once, until a small, distant cry broke the void, making you flinch.

“Aemond,” you called, pacing in place, trying to look around. Another cry ensued.

“Where are you?” Your voice stretched into a prolonged echo.

Bracing yourself, you took small steps forward, hands outstretched. Step. Step. Step. The voice within was silent, not guiding you with a single help. Perhaps, it was gone too. You and the void – and nothing else was there. Pausing, you exhaled sharply. Then, you heard another cry, just a few steps away from you. You heard their breath trembling—whether in fear or...

“Aemond?” you whispered, your hand stretching out further into the void, as if in an attempt to catch someone you weren’t sure existed here.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room, making you pull your hand away, pressing it against your chest, as Aegon’s face loomed before you, his crooked grin made you flinch. Darkness swallowed him in the instant. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears, fear paralysed your movement. Another flash and you caught glimpses of him again, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, slow and unnatural as if he were no human at all. The flashes of lightning continued flickering at an abnormal pace, hypnotising you further with his movements. No matter how many steps back you took, he still appeared just at a hand’s length away from you. You wished to make him disappear, you wished you could scream, but your voice died in your throat. Then, in a sharp burst of light, he straightened, standing a head taller than you. His laughter stopped, yet something twisted was present in the way he smiled. Darkness fell once more. And when the lightning flashed again, he exhaled into your face, his breath a foul mix of alcohol and vomit.

“Time to get it wet.”

Stumbling back in horror, you tripped and fell. Down. Down. And down—into what seemed like an endless abyss. Your hands grasped desperately at nothing, searching for something to hold onto. In the weightlessness, your body felt like a massive mountain rock about to shatter into countless tiny pieces upon hitting the bottom. Turning into nothing, too. The fall might have lasted forever if not for another cry. Anguished and desperate, like an animal’s groan, it yanked you out of the unknown darkness and into the familiar one.

A flash of lightning illuminated your corner. Sitting on your bed, you were frantically counting your fingers with one hand, then the other. Ten. Real. It was real. Your body shook, either from the lingering terror of the vision or from the cold sweat soaking your nightgown. As you licked your lips, you tasted the dried blood. A dull thud of thunder sliced through the silence, followed by a moan of pain.

Aemond.

Your vision sharpened in an instant.

The wooden floor felt cold under your feet. Not bothering with a robe, you rushed to wake him from what must have been a nightmare. But you froze in place when you saw him sitting on the bed, his feet on the floor, his hair dishevelled, cascading over his bare chest and back. The sapphire gleamed with every flash of the storm, yet Aemond’s hand was pressed firmly against his remaining eye.

“Aemond,” you called softly, but he didn’t move.

Each step forward was paired with your words, “Aemond, are you well?” Your heart pounded wildly in your chest. He was oblivious to your voice, and suddenly, you felt like an intruder in one of his visions.

Then he muttered something.

“What is it?”

“Gone,” his voice came out hoarse.

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head, stopping a few steps away from him. Instinct urged you to stay back, but the voice inside you—the seer’s power—remained silent. “Who is gone?”

“My eye. Another eye.”

“No,” you breathed, sinking to your knees before him. “It’s not.”

“It was taken, too.”

Despite the tremble in his hand, it remained pressed against his eye. He must be plagued by the deathly visions seeping through it, just as your mother had been. You’d feared leaving her alone, knowing death’s grasp could inflict horrendous suffering before taking someone. A chilling thought crept into your mind. Could he have taken his own eye?

You swallowed hard. “Aemond, look at me.”

He shook his head. “I shall never see you again.”

Shifting closer, you gently wrapped your hand around his wrist, your touch light as though handling fragile porcelain. His skin was ice-cold.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, peering into the sapphire as if it were a real eye capable of seeing. Unblinking, it stared back at you, reminding you of Aemond’s distant, ruthless side. Beautiful, yet deadly. But you needed the other side of him now—the side that brimmed with feeling, rare though it was.

“Aemond, do you trust me?” you asked again, louder this time.

He remained still, his breaths coming in short gasps. Then he gave a curt nod, and that was all you needed. Gently, you tugged on his hand, pulling it away from his face. In the next flash of lightning, you saw his right eye tightly shut.

“Look at me,” you urged. Hesitantly, your free hand reached up to his cheek, caressing it, trying to soothe him. Just as you had done for your mother. Just as his mother had done for him. He leaned into your touch, whether seeking comfort from you or lost in the memory of her, you couldn’t tell.

“Look at me,” you repeated, your voice pleading now. Please.

When he finally did, his eye was a deep, saturated violet like a flower blooming after rain—beautiful and unique in its essence. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the darkness until his gaze settled on you. A sigh of relief escaped your lips. He was well. His ragged breathing slowed, and with it, the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowed too.

“They disappeared,” he said quietly. “Voices.”

You exhaled sharply, a small smile forming despite the lump in your throat.

“I’m glad,” you whispered. “I’m so glad to hear it. Perhaps it was the storm that summoned them.” He flinched when you slowly withdrew your hand from his face, but your other hand remained on his. Giving him some reassurance, giving him some of your warmth.

His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, then pressed together again. You saw the struggle in the way his forehead furrowed, his eye intense at you.

When he finally asked his question, you froze in confusion.

“Do you know what happened to Luke?”

Not a bastard. Not a nephew. Not Lucerys Velaryon. Luke.

You gave a small nod. There was no point in pretending. For now, you realised fully that Aemond had constructed such high walls around his soul that to truly know him, to see the humanity in him, one had to be a seer.

“The storm,” he said quietly, “was just like this that night.”

And with that sentence alone, he said more than thousands of words could ever do.

He exhaled deeply as if some of the burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His eye fluttered closed.

A tendril of his horror tugged at your heart as if you were connected to his memory by an invisible string. You saw the torn red cloak and the glint of silver dragon scales dissolving into the mist under the gloomy clouds—a stark contrast to the clear sky above where Aemond had soared on Vhagar. A sign that his crime had not escaped the gods' eyes. Since that day, they had turned away from him. And when the bluebell bloomed... you knew you would do the same.

“Will I bear it after everything I’ve witnessed? After your soul has grown so much on mine?” The question was clear in your mind, but no words came. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard, that the metallic taste of blood spread upon your tongue.

His violet eye opened again, and his brow furrowed. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why do you cry?”

You blinked, only then realising that tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“Because I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his hand like a child seeking comfort. A silent tear landed on your forearm. “I’m sorry it happened to you.” Another tear followed.

He shook his head, and you noticed the faintest flicker of a smile on his lips.

“It was my fault,” he said. “I sought justice for so long that what I found was revenge. And that…” He held your gaze as if needing you to truly hear him. “I never wished for.”

“I know,” you breathed. You felt his hand shift beneath yours, his fingers interlacing with your fingers. You were holding him, and he was holding you. And that was the greatest comfort to your aching souls amidst the storm.

The sky was as blue as if the storm had washed it clean of all its grime. Branches littered the yard, and some stems of flowers lay broken. The harsh weather seemed always to find the weakest, breaking them forever. Apples were scattered all around—ripe and raw. It would take time and effort to restore everything to order. Normally, you would get straight to work, but not today. Today, your feet felt anchored to the ground, your body frozen in numbness. Feeling everything and nothing at once, you stared at the delicate blue flower that had impossibly bloomed amidst the ominous storm.

The bluebell.

Time to tell the truth or to lie. To fulfil a promise given to Aemond or your mother. Save his life or the lives of unknown people. What did it really mean to save him? To let him escape death? Or to grant him freedom from burdens and desires never meant to come true?

A black raven flew past, perching on a low fence. Its croak echoed like an evil laugh. Perhaps death itself was mocking you. There was little you could do unless… Your eyes widened as if struck by a revelation.

There’s always a way out, whispered the voice within. Pick the flower. Discard it. He won’t know. You can devise something later. Change his mind. Win some time. He trusts you. You won’t let his mother down. And you’ll save him.

With careful steps, you moved toward the bluebell, each one deliberate, like a spider approaching its prey, fearing it might find the strength to escape its web. Your heart pounded wildly as you dropped to your knees, which slowly sank into the mud. Despite its delicate size, the colour of the flower was so bright and vivid against the dark soil. Your hand reached out for the fragile bloom. Now, everything would be resolved. Everything would be fine. You wouldn't have to choose.

“It’s bloomed.”

His voice made you freeze, your hand hovering inches away from the petals, as your heart sank.

No. It can't be true.

Turning back, you saw Aemond standing meters away, ignorant of your intentions. His gaze was solemnly fixed on the bluebell, oblivious to the hints of bitterness and betrayal shadowing your eyes. An oddly detached thought struck you—how strange it was to see his eyepatch back in place.

“Yes," you managed to reply, pulling your hand back and pressing it into a fist against your chest, like a thief concealing an empty hand in a pocket.

He stepped forward, and you flinched at the sound of a crack. Was it a dried branch under his feet, or your heart?

#hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic

71 notes · View notes

stardusthuntress · 3 months

Text

Shark Week

TBB x afab!reader (no clone-cest)

Word count: ~1.1k (short but sweet this time)

Summary: periods suck, but the bad batch is here to help! No smut this time, just comfort from the bestest of bad boys!

A/N: So, I'm on my period (ow), and I wish the batch was here to help... so let's pretend they are! Periods are a roller coaster, so for those who have to deal with one and need a hug from the best bad boys when it gets bad, this is for you! I wrote this as though all the men sorta have a crush on the reader, but it’s not too suggestive, so interpret it however you want!

also, I know I'm the worst at keeping to a predictable writing schedule which makes it hard for people to keep up with my fics when they are posted. And I do remember that I promised more fun with the Right Attire series before anything else - turns out those ones are harder to write than I expected! I promise those are in the works! For now, have a sweet little period comfort fic instead!

Mando’a:

Mesh’la = Beautiful

dividers by @/djarrex

“What’s wrong with you?” Wrecker asks as they return from a market trip and find you curled into a ball around a heating pad, head tucked into your knees, groaning on the couch with a container of pain meds, an empty ice cream container, and an assortment of tissues and tissue boxes scattered across the nearest counter.

All the gents pause for a moment.

“Sabotaged by my baby box…” your voice mumbles from around the pillow you’re currently squashing between your lap and heating pad, unwilling to uncurl to do so.

“Ah, I see.” Says Tech, redirecting his steps from the workbench in the main room to the outdoor one, knowing you like quiet when the pain grips your internal organs like this.

Echo heads straight to the kitchen and starts filling a water bottle.

Hunter sits down next to you and leans you against his side, rubbing your back.

“What?” Asks Wrecker, genuinely confused.

Crosshair chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and shifts his toothpick to answer. “She’s on her period, Wrecker.” He states it blatantly, much to your dismay. Not that you didn’t just say the same thing in different words, but somehow it’s the delivery that just grates on your nerves. But before you can spiral down that rabbit hole, Wrecker’s voice drags you from your emotional reverie.

“Ooooooohhhhh…. Uh…. Want me to make you a nest?” Wrecker tries.

Echo emerges from the bedrooms, slightly cool water bottle in hand, bowl of fruit under his arm, and a blanket draped over his shoulder, and Tech hot on his heels. “She’s not a bird, Wrecker.”

“Mmmmm, yes please Wreck,” you mumble again, this time from Hunter’s shoulder.

Echo chuckles fondly, “Maybe you are our little bird today.”

“Actually,” Tech’s finger is in the air as he spouts facts, “many mammals also have nesting tendencies. Sometimes it is a child rearing tactic. In many cases it is lumped in with a group of behaviors or time of year, for example hibernation. There is also—“

Chuckling fondly at Tech’s incessant fountain of knowledge, you stretch a hand towards your water bottle on the counter, only to have Tech snatch it away as he stops chatting at you.

“Hey!” You protest, hand going limp on the edge of the table in frustration with a moan of disdain.

“That one’s empty, here,” Echo gently offers, sliding the one he’d just filled into your hand and sitting on your other side.

He and Hunter help you sit up without uncurling to drink the water.

Tech reappears, having deposited the empty water bottle into the kitchen. He stands in front of you with your favorite fuzzy socks, headband, and salty snacks, and a napkin so you can eat where you are.

You give a tired smile, relaxing a bit as they all take the time to help you through the pain. “Thanks guys.”

“We’re not done just yet,” Hunter says, placing a kiss on your temple as he stands up.

You groan at the loss of one of your favorite heaters.

“He will be right back,” Echo whispers into your other ear, pulling you closer.

You hum in answer again as you relax into him.

“Back already,” Hunter plops down beside you again.

You grumble in protest as your comfy seat bounces in response.

“Sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder, his hand sliding into yours. But instead of simply intertwining his fingers with yours you find yours getting wrapped around a crinkly package.

You look down at it, confused, until you notice what it is… your favorite chocolate.

“Hmmmm, you guys spoil me,” you mumble back.

“Hmm, not enough,” he and Echo tell you, wrapping you in the blanket Echo brought and rubbing any part of you that they can reach.

Tech reappears again, having used his brother’s attention on you to disappear yet again without anyone noticing… that is, except Crosshair, who walks beside him carrying an arm full of books.

“We were unsure which one you are reading at the present time, or if there are several, but these were the books I kept a record of you mentioning most recently. Crosshair’s idea.” Tech finishes with a finger pointing to the sky, rather proudly.

Behind them Wrecker appears, almost entirely hidden behind the piles of blankets and pillows he’s collected from your room and his. He pauses, and reshuffles so his mismatched eyes can reappear over the top of the multitude of comforts he carries.

“Where do you wanna be?” He booms excitedly. He always enjoys building nests.

“Where she is, Wrecker. Don’t make her move.” Crosshair tells him, with his usual grumpiness.

Wrecker ignores him, still looking at you with a smile in his eye.

“Na, we need more space than that. We’re all burrowing in with you, Mesh’la,” Hunter instructs. “Move that and we’ll use the floor.”

Wrecker uses one foot to move things out of the way until Echo, and Crosshair get up and help.

Hunter stays put, keeping you upright and warm.

“My Dear,” Tech purrs, “I need you to simply answer yes or no to these questions so that I may make sure we have all necessary items on hand before we settle in.”

You nod, laughing feebly, “I think you already have everything, but ok.”

He lets a small proud smirk grace his lips and launches into a list of symptoms and you diligently answer, knowing he just wants to make you feel better.

20 minutes later and you’re fed and curled up in the middle of 5 caring men, talking softly as you doze off. Your head is in Hunter’s lap as he massages your scalp and shoulders. Echo has your middle where he’s keeping a constant pressure on the heating pad on your abdomen, his hand massaging where your kidneys are to relieve the tension of your body in overdrive. Tech is massaging your feet through the fuzzy socks. Wrecker and Crosshair are spread out in front of you, keeping you in the center of their circle as Crosshair pretends to focus on what’s going on outside the window. Secretly he’s been unwrapping chocolate to feed you whenever you start to seem uncomfortable again. Tucked beneath your arm as you doze, is the book Crosshair pulled from the pile for you at your request. It’s quickly joined by Lula as Wrecker winks at you as he animatedly tells a story from when he walked Omega to Shep’s house for a sleepover this morning.

“Sleep,” Crosshair whispers to you around his toothpick, “We’re not going anywhere.”

Tucked between your favorite men in the galaxy, you drift off to a peaceful, relatively pain free, nap. By the time you fall asleep, one hand is tangled in Crosshair’s loose grip, and one in Wrecker’s.

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself!

taglist: @cw80831 @kenobidevil @bambambunny

#tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb echo x reader #arc echo x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #zenith writes #periods need comfort fic #comfort fic

84 notes · View notes

wabatle · 4 months

Text

synopsis: your husband shows you why you should get up this morning. warnings: mentions of depression, mentions of self-hatred, and mentions of suicidal thoughts if you squint. divider by @/saradika

“I don't feel like getting up this morning.” You softly told your husband.

Eren was taken aback. “What do you mean? You have to get up. I need you.”

“I'm sorry, baby.” You replied. “But I'm tired and I feel like there's no point in getting up. Like there's no reason to get out of bed.”

“…Oh.” Eren replied softly. “Okay, sure.” He quickly left the room.

You rolled onto your back, now staring at the ceiling. Why am I like this? You thought to yourself. I probably made him upset, and now he probably feels like he did something wrong to me…

You sighed. I hate myself. I hate that I'm like this.

You continued to think for a while, until the bedroom door opened again.

“Rise and shine, baby!” Eren said, pulling you out of bed.

“H–huh?”

“I made you breakfast. Get dressed and come eat!”

With that, Eren left the room. So… I guess he's okay? You thought, beginning to get ready. I wonder what he made.

When you came into the kitchen, there was a plate of pancakes on the table, specifically shaped into a heart.

You sighed, trying to push back the tears. “Thank you, baby.”

“Now, once you finish, get your shoes on.”

“Why?”

“Because I planned a fun day today to prove to you that it's worth it to get out of bed.”

You smiled softly, swallowing a bit of the pancake. “You're too good to me.”

“It's only because I love you. I hate to see you like that.” He picked up your empty plate and put it in the sink.

You put your shoes on.

“Ready?” He asked, offering his hand.

“Yeah.” You replied, taking his hand.

A few minutes later, you arrived at an aquarium.

“You said that you wanted to go to an aquarium a few days ago, right?” Eren smiled gently at you.

“U–uh, yeah…I'm surprised you remembered.”

He kept holding your hand as he pulled you inside, watching you look around in awe at the fish.

After the aquarium, he took you to a library, where you looked around for random books you felt like reading. While you were wandering around, Eren was looking for books on depression and how to help someone with it.

After that, you went to a cat café, where Eren bought you a beverage of your choice and you both played with the cats.

Next, he took you to an amusement park, where you two rode the scariest roller coasters together and quite possibly even got close to throwing up after.

Lastly, he took you to a park. Just a park with a playset and a set of swings.

He sat down on a swing and motioned for you to sit down next to him.

The night air was cold, yet you still felt oddly warm.

“How are you doing now, darling?” He asked you.

Your heart picked up a little. “I feel much better now, thank you.” You paused.

“Eren, thank you so, so much for today. It really helped. It made me so happy. I love you.”

Eren smiled. “I love you too, (name).”

Eren then picked up the pace on the swing, going as high as he could possibly go. “Try to keep up, (name)!”

Seeing this as a competition, you also tried to go as high as possible.

Once you both were tired, Eren pulled you into a hug.

“When I say I love you, I really mean it. Hearing you say that there was no point in getting out of bed— I couldn't take it. I wanted you to be able to see all the stuff you would miss out on if you didn't get out of bed.”

You smiled softly into his shoulder. “I think I realized something today.”

Eren pulled back to look at you. “Hm?”

“You're my reason to get out of bed.”

Eren couldn't help but smile. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He started laughing. “No way!” He spit out between laughs. “That's funny, ‘cause…”

“You're my reason to get out of bed too.”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot fluff #eren fluff #wabatle writes

76 notes · View notes

ivelleciel · 4 months

Text

IRIS BENEATH THE SUN

Chapter One: Betrayal Genre: Mafia!Haechan, Mafia!NCT, Biker Haechan, Step on me Haechan, Haechan Dom

Pairings: Haechan x Reader (Iris)

Warning: Smut, Violence, Vulgar Language, Mention of blood, MDNI

Intro: Where a girl finds herself trapped within her brother's protection. One would find it a blessing but for Iris, it's suffocation- and she's someone who would often like the thought of being choked, but simply not like this. Raised within thick walls inside the perimeters of their mansion, She finds herself treasuring every opportunity she gets whenever she is given volunteer work for the people in need outside the city of glass she was born in. Fun and Exciting is how she always saw these trips, it was until darkened windows of SUVs blocked their way from going any further in the middle of the desert. It was the only land of nothing dividing the city and the suburbs and yet they were stopped by armed men, six- seven? she couldn't count as she was too in shock, scared even much more so when her side of the vehicle opened and a pair of gloved hands pulled her away from your handmaiden's side. "Giselle!" Iris cried and a bag was hovered over her head and the last thing she remembered was Giselle's screams, Men simultaneously giving orders to her bodyguards and a gun going off. Then there was black.

"Ha ha. So funny. What then? Bore myself to death by my room's window? waiting for prince charming to save me? No thank you. Give me twenty more of these tasks and consider me the happiest sister ever." Mumbling her last words as she fix her hair to a half-do with a claw clip. Iris saw Johnny's sad gaze through her mirror before he could mask it with a stoic smile. She sighed and faced her brother, leaning in to hug herself tight on his chest.

"Stop babying me.. It's only for a few hours. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I heard there are many forest spiders in the village. Thousands." Johnny exaggerated, trying to coax her with her teasing by blabbering stupid things and then he sighed when Iris only hummed her soft chuckle, unconvinced. "... you're just the only family I have left."

"And so are you to me." Iris sighed, looking up to her brother with an exhausted expression. "But mom and dad would have wanted us to live life with more meaning than in fear.."

"I know.." Johnny sighed, tapping the cap Iris had on before marching to her room's door. "Well chop chop city girl. They're not gonna feed themselves." Chuckling as they make their way downstairs, Iris gave one last look at the frame by her bed. Her late mother, late father, Johnny and herself. Smiling by the lake that held many memories for her and Johnny, some of which they didn't know would end in a tragedy.

Iris saw Giselle, one of her many good friends, packing extra necessities for Iris and the trip. Back hugging the petite frame, Giselle squealed, too focused on her task in hand to even notice Iris before glaring at the girl. "Silly! What if I dropped your anxiety pills?" she heard Gigi clicked her tongue, Iris resumed with a bratty smile to where Yuta was by their white van. "Everything settled Yuta?" Yuta, clasped his armed weapon on his belt and smiled at Iris, an unspoken answer to which Iris nodded to before getting up inside the van. Settling on the middle seat, between the window spot and the collapsing chair, she earned a perfect view of Mark.

A container in one hand and the other with what looks like an ammunition box, being stored inside another case. "Put the Magazine under the compartment along with out other containers yeah?" Iris could hear him order Jeno in which the latter obeyed to. She couldn't help but gape at Mark and his focused stance. If Iris was a completely eye-roller at Johnny's protectiveness then with Mark it was all heart eyes and red cheeks. Who wouldn't if the male holds glory to the uniform Johnny assigned them to. Camo pants and Army green fitted shirt is one of the fun treats Iris would look forward to with these programs, along with the nurturing feeling of helping other people.

She heard a throat clearing beside her and Iris just continued gawking. "Can a man get any more handsome?" Iris sighed, pouting her lips when Mark left her view to head inside, presumably to bid farewell to Johnny and reassure him that He and Jaehyun would take good care of you and the task in hands. "I wouldn't know, I'm not the one drooling a pool over here." Iris bit her lips, side eyeing her friend with a snort. "Oh please, as if I don't notice how you look at Yuta?" Giselle smacked Iris arm for that playfully before scooting herself on the window seat. "House Rules. We can't date co workers, but nobody said that about drooling over them." Giselle tossed her hair to tease Iris before being silence by the large frame towering by the sliding door. "Everyone ready?" Johnny mused, eyeing all the equipments and bags in the back seat before giving one last stern look at Iris.

"You behave-" Iris groaned when she saw Yuta, Mark and Jeno exchange smiles behind. "I will! It's not like I won't come straight home. Please stop." Iris whined further before she let Johnny ruffle her hair, backing away from the door to close it himself. Yuta and Jeno positioned in their seats in front. She only got lucky twice that she get to have Mark accompany her in the van.

Two vehicles were to transmit from their mansion. One where Jaehyun and Mark would carry with weapons and their tents and boxes of goods, And one where she's on with Giselle, Yuta and Jeno. It was always four guards with too many weapons. Johnny sees it as not enough but Iris claimed it was more than enough given that it was only her in the vehicle and nothing really ever happened to her despite Johnny's protectiveness.

Somewhere along their trip, Iris was sitting comfy by the window of the collapsing chair with Giselle passed out and a pillow on her lap. She just woke up from her nap and noticed that they were far from near the town they were heading to and yet also too far from home. She checked back as she pushed an air bud in her ear, the van Mark and Jeno are in behind them with safe distance. She played a soft song, ready to day dream about Mark and what would it be like if he was in their van instead of Jeno- that is until she saw a motorcycle beaming his headlights, asking to pass through and overtake. A male in all black sits on the Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Black skinny jeans, black boots, chains for necklace if she knew any better and a black shirt underneath his leather jacket.

His gloves switched the lever of his bike causing it to roar as he zooms pass them, earning a scoff at Yuta. "Cocky motherfucker." he muttered before she hears Jeno chuckle. She could have sworn that the rider could see her through their tinted glass, staring right back at her but that would be silly because again their vans were tinted, to its most darkest available shade at that. Shaking the silly thought away, she went back to staring out her window and enjoying the scenery as they drove through the desert.

"Target: Flower is in position. 800 meters away from the bullseye."

Static was heard from the other end before he heard the stern voice call back at him.

"We are ready to engage."

Haechan responded with a 'Copy.' before speeding away from the white vans. Certain that he was out of view, he parked behind a boulder , big enough to hide his motorcycle and himself as he positioned a chain of spikes across the road, plan B in place in case "Plan A: ambush" failed- to which it often doesn't, the cocky side of him crediting himself to the lack of mission failing when he's part of it. All he has to do now is wait and upon calculating he has enough time left for a quick smoke. Sitting his helmet on his bike and pulling out the Marlboro stick from his jacket's pocket he lit it up and waited as he leans on the boulder.

Puffing a few smoke, He heard screeches of tires and screams came after that.

Haechan made his way to the scene, stepping on Yuta's back as he tackled on the ground by Jaemin and Jeno wounded by Chenle on the leg.

"Boss said to spare them and just take the girl." Jaemin said as Renjun struggled to open the van's door. "She's won't let me open it-"

"Don't make another move!" Mark was able to free himself from Xiao Jun's grasp, wounded and bleeding on the side when Mark kicked him off but Mark was far from okay as well, with a gash on his lip and an open wound on his arm. Mark aimed the gun on his hand to Haechan, making the tanned skin male chuckle.

"You must be Mark." Mark unfazed by how Haechan knew he his name remained in position. "Don't worry. We won't hurt your princess, lover boy." Mark was then knocked out by Jaehyun from behind. One last look of betrayal from Mark and he was passed out on the ground.

Haechan nudged Renjun away and pulled the door open. Iris yelled and kicked when Renjun tried to manhandle her out to which he succeeded and Giselle screamed behind her before she was knocked out as well by a cloth to their mouths and nose.

Haechan watched as Iris gaze lands on his. Flicking the cigar away before leaning on her with a smirk. Her eyes beamed light brown as she tried to make out what Haechan looked like as he towers over her in front of the sun. 'Familiar' is what her last thoughts were before everything went black.

note: visit @Ivelle_Ciel on ao3 for faster updates ˆ̑՝̮ˆ̑❤︎

113 notes · View notes

girlsbandcryentls · 1 month

Text

Otaku Souken interview part 1 -What did Scriptwriter Jukki Hanada want to convey with 『Girls Band Cry』? We talk at length about characterization and behind-the-scenes production.

(this article was published by Otaku Souken on August 2nd)

Airing in April 2024, the TV Anime 『Girls Band Cry』 has exploded in record-breaking popularity. An original series by Toei Animation that's been drawing attention from their combination of fully 3DCG animation, to create a smooth lively motion and a non-stop roller coaster of a story. Even now after one month since it has ended, there are many fans still reeling from "post girls band cry depression".

And so this time, we are publishing this special feature on TV anime 『Girls Band Cry』. We interview the production staff and cast members at length about what they feel towards this series and the unknown behind the scenes of this production. This feature will be split into 3 parts as we dive deep with plenty of questions to ask, so please look forward to it.

In part 1 of this feature, we talk with the scriptwriter in charge, Mr.Jukki Hanada. From 「K-ON!」 to 「Love Live!」, he has penned and worked on multiple popular series. Continuing on his trend of writing youth stories. What did Mr.Hanada want to convey with 『Girls Band Cry』? How did he create these fascinating characters? By reading this feature, there's no doubt you'll get more excited about this series!

Topics Page 1. A story about learning 「This world can't be easily divided into black and white」 Page 2. On Rupa and Tomo's relationship, there's plenty of room to expand. The dynamics of the 5 main casts are 「Like a Family」 Page 3. Nina's rival isn't 「Diamond Dust」 but Hina Page 4. 「Life does not end after graduation」, writing about facing society head-on

A story about learning 「This world can't be easily divided into black and white」

――First off, you have joined this project as the main writer/series composition of the story. I like to ask, how you came to be in charge of this role. Hanada: At first there was a pitch from Hiramaya about creating a music-centric story. Personally, I've been writing about idol stories for years. So this time I wanted to make it about a band. I've always been a big fan of old-school Japanese rock. And so I suggested 「If we're making it about music, let's turn it into a band」.

――What about the decision to centre around an all-girls band? Hanada: You know, I also wanted to write a story about boys (laughs). Hirayama (Editor's note: he is the main producer of this project), director Sakai and I all worked on 「Love Live! Sunshine!!」 together before. And so we went with a girl's band. Personally, I'm more used to writing about female characters after all…

――The setting of this story is based around the city of Kawasaki, is there a reason why? Hanada: When we were location scouting, I found that city to be extremely pleasant. It was easy to visualize the characters living in such a place. There's also the live house CLUB CITTA’. This city has a high affinity for bands, so it is easy to set the story up here.

――Onwards, I would like to ask more about the characters. First off regarding the main character Iseri Nina. I believe you have also spoken about it on your social media but, she's quite a sharp-tongued character who stands out huh. Hanada: At first the image I created for her is a bit more reserved. But once we started to develop her backstory and reason for coming to Tokyo, I thought 「Ah well, she's pretty grumpy now」

――So while planning out this script, things were constantly changing, right? Hanada: Most of the time when it comes to original series, that's how we slowly solidify the script. With Nina, she has developed into quite a pain in the ass for us. By episode 1 she was still alright. But by episode 2 when she first met Subaru. She gets easily depressed and instantly leaves to go back home. Slowly but surely all the anger and rage inside her began to surface. That's the kind of character she became (laughs)

――Whether it is towards herself or others, I get the impression that her anger comes off really strong. Hanada: She came to Tokyo after being bullied. As such she has a binary view that everyone is either an enemy or ally, a good person or a bad person. But that isn't limited to just Nina, I believe it is a common feeling when one is still young and naive. However, this world can't be easily divided into black and white. The concept of the story is Nina learning this lesson. And so we thought this story should start with her being on edge to some extent. But she ended up being way more grumpy than expected (laughs).

――Speaking of things can't be easily divided into black and white, I feel like representing that point is the character Kawaragi Momoka.

Hanada: Both Nina who came to Tokyo carrying all that anger, and Momoka who is pursuing a music career in a band, are in a way bonded by this mutual 「unfiltered earnesty」. However, Momoka is a character who has experienced first-hand how reality is not so black and white. Especially towards the start of the story, Nina looks up to Momoka but feels 「Why are adults always so gloomy with pent-up feelings」. For Nina, having this gloom is what makes someone not a good adult. In other words, this is someone who should be a baddie and her enemy. But because she admires Momoka, she can't easily label her as such. At first, her image of Momoka is someone who shines brightly. But Nina learns that Momoka drinks and rambles while drunk. She even pukes inside Nina's toilet (laughs). But, it's not like Nina hates that part of her. So Nina starts to change how she looks at things. But on the other hand, because of Nina's personality, she can't quite accept that part of Momoka. That's why she keeps pressing on Momoka 「Please shine like you once were!」

――Thinking only in terms of Enemies and Allies, she struggles to categorize her as an ally right. Hanada: She's probably not that grumpy when she's still in Kumamoto and might have accepted Momoka for what she is now. But once she came to Tokyo alone, there was no longer a reason to hold back. There is no point in coming to Tokyo in the first place if she still has to hold back her feelings.

――And so comes Awa Subaru and her role as a dampener between these two's relationship. Hanada: That's right. Nina and Momoka are both very awkward around each other. So in a sense, we thought it was important to add a balancer who is skilled at navigating social situations. But it won't be interesting if that's all she is. So we explored how Subaru came to be such a character by looking at her relationship with her Grandma. She is the complete opposite of Nina. So long as she puts on a smile in front of people, she thinks it's fine to delay all her problems that need to be answered. That's why for Nina, seeing such a liar first-hand pisses her off the most.

――But even so, they managed to build a very close relationship with each other thanks to how open-minded Subaru was. Hanada: But, Subaru hates the part of her personality of putting on airs and delaying important things. That's why she respects and admires how straightforward Nina is.

Page 2

On Rupa and Tomo's relationship, there's plenty of room to expand. The dynamics of the 5 main casts are 「Like a Family」

――From there, Ebizuka Tomo and Rupa are added. First off, I like to ask about Tomo's character setting. Hanada: She's like an extreme version of Nina. She's a character who had to start living by herself at a young age. She puts on an even harder shell than Nina and would not let anyone get close to her. After setting up the shin-kawasaki trio, I was thinking about what should we do for the remaining 2 characters. So how about making one character who is even harder to approach than Nina. Tomo draws out this side of her, like a catalyst to easily get a chemical reaction going.

――I see, so in this setting, she's a character who amplifies this part of Nina who hates adults. Hanada: In fact, I even wrote an episode halfway through focusing on Tomo. But Nina was more of a pain in the ass than expected, so we had no choice but to cut it(laughs).

――Continuing on, what about Rupa's character setting? Hanada: While we were thinking about Tomo's personality and setting, we also asked ourselves, if there's someone who can be with her, what sort of person would that be.

――So in other words, similar to Subaru who is good at navigating social situations, Rupa has an image of someone who can act as the adult in the room. Hanada: I don't think she is someone who wants to find sympathy in people with the same kind of scars she has. Nor is she looking for anyone to understand that pain. In the first place, it's not like Rupa herself thinks she can understand the pain of others, nor does she want to. She's the type of character who's strong-willed and is not looking to lick each other's wounds. In other words, she's like an adult who knows how cruel reality can be. There's her backstory of her family passing away. It's not like her bandmates didn't ask her about it, it's a situation where they can't. I also wanted to write more about Rupa's story, but I decided not to force it in due to time constraints. Like the audience, Nina and the band are in a situation where they only know fragments of her past. So it'll be better to write Rupa as someone who says "I want to stay by this person's side" and "Let's get along".

――The fact that she's the only half-Japanese in the band. We don't know her family name, only her given name. That makes her a very unique character. Hanada: Part of that is we wanted to emphasise her as a mystery character. On top of that, it's not unnatural at all for at least one person to be half-Japanese among a group as large as this in this age.

――From the cast members, we've also heard that it was actually easier to act out Rupa because her background has not yet been set in stone. (For more details, check out part 2 of the interview with the cast members!) But now that the anime has finished airing, there are a lot of people asking what exactly her character setting is. Hanada: Of course, there are more details for her character. Not every information about her has been perfectly depicted on screen, but no doubt a good part of her personality has. Teshima's illustrations (Character Designer in charge, Teshina nari) and Shuri's voice acting have greatly contributed to her standing out. Especially that sound check scene in Episode 11 「Centre of the World」. We were confident that 「This will definitely be a hit!」, and were very excited to see the audience's reaction when it aired.

――Regarding Tomo, she's been in a band before, but as seen on screen it didn't work out well. In all of them, only Rupa was always by her side. So I want to ask what's their relationship like. Hanada: Tomo doesn't want anyone digging into her heart. That's the same with Rupa. I don't think things will go well if every band member has the same 「Let's speak candidly with each other」 way of thinking. But when it comes to music, they are both serious about it. So Rupa and Tomo get along well on the same wavelength.

――Were there any non-explicit settings for the band overall? Hanada: For me, I have the image of a family in mind when I write their dialogue. Momoka is the dad and Rupa is the mom. Subaru is the older sister, Nina is the older brother and Tomo is the youngest sister. That's why, when the dad and son always end up fighting, the remaining girls watch over while Subaru the older sister tries to mediate.

――That's true, whenever Nina and Momoka clash it feels like a fight among boys. Hanada: Certainly when it comes to Momoka and Nina, when their feelings clash it kinda feels like a fight between boys. Sure harmony and reconciliation are important, but if there's no meaning to the fight if there isn't any conviction or pride. That's what I keep in mind when writing how they clash.

Page 3

Nina's rival isn't 「Diamond Dust」 but Hina

――Continuing on, I like to ask about the setting for 「Diamond Dust」 (from now on referred to as 「DD」) Hanada: Regarding DD, initially they were positioned as an enemy that Nina must defeat. When Nina came to Tokyo and heard Momoka's story, she thought that 「Momoka was bullied by her former bandmates and they were now her enemy」. But in truth, Nana, Rin and Ai are all really good people. And Nina slowly understands that they are all working hard and struggling in their own way. My intention was to obscure that part from the start, so both Nina and the audience feel 「What a bunch of show off!」 towards DD. But once Nina and the audience hear more about their story, call it from an adult's point of view or from something realistic, they slowly learn that Momoka too had a part in this problem. On top of that, Momoka herself thinks that she's in the wrong. It's through the course of those events that Nina and the audience learn how should one compromise with society and how people can't be easily simplified. For example in Episode 4 「Kansha (Odoroki) 」 with the story of Subaru and her Grandma. If you look at it objectively from the outside, pure evil doesn't exist much at all in this world. Everyone is just doing things their way, which is what I wanted to show. Nina had a clear divide between enemies and allies, justice and evil when she first came to Tokyo. She learns this world isn't as black and white as she thinks. Nina herself also started saying it at the end of Episode 4 but as Subaru replied 「Who are you to preach!」 (laughs).

――I've asked about this before from the producer(Tadashi Hirayama) and director(Kazuo Sakai). Regarding the vocalist for DD, Hina, her character wasn't in the initial script right. (We'll dive deeper into this topic with part 3 of the interview!)

Hanada: So in the middle of the story, after Nina learns that DD are in fact good hardworking people, she would've lost her initial motivation. In other words, the existence of 「An enemy she must defeat for Momoka's sake」 is gone. So there was a question of how the story should develop from there. At first, I thought of a story about an evil producer in DD's agency and the script went down that path. But I really didn't want to write such a story, director Sakai and HirayamaP were also at a loss because this didn't feel right. And that's when Hina was born. Rather than focusing on Momoka's DD, we structure the story around Nina facing against Hina. The course of the story turns to Nina learning just what is behind the mind of the one person she is utterly incompatible with.

――During her first screen appearance, the viewers get pulled along by Nina's hatred of Hina. But once I saw how Nina got back on her feet in the final episode, I somewhat understood just what exactly Hina was trying to say to her.

Hanada: For Hina, the reason why she is so attracted to Nina is very similar to Subaru's reason. Nina holds a kind of childishness in her heart while Hina doesn't have that explosive energy. That's why in the final episode 「Rockn'Roll Won't Stop Ringing」, she went out of her way to agitate her. 「I don't want you to get caught up in this mess made by the higher ups」 Hina thought. She knows exactly how Nina will act if she agitates her, so this is her way of cheering Nina on.

――In a way, no one understands Nina more than her. Hahada: If you watch it till the end, one can say Nina has no enemies.

――Besides that, is there also any inexplicit setting regarding DD? Hanada: If I have to say, there are some but, I want to keep those a secret for now (laughs) But if I have to give you one, it'll be about their relationship with Momoka. It's not shown on screen but, it was Momoka who pulled the other 3 with her to Tokyo. At that time Momoka was the one who was not looking at reality the most. So in the end, when she was the first to say she was running away, she felt an enormous pressure in her heart. She felt like she must carry the weight of responsibility for those 3. That's probably also one of the reasons why it was too hard for her to continue being in the band. But with 「Togenashi Togeari」 (from now referred to as TogeToge) things were different. Nina was also shouldering part of that weight of responsibility. Their relationship in this band is on equal grounds. With TogeToge, Momoka could see a different world compared to when she was in DD.

――On top of that, the members of TogeToge all joined the band of their own free will, that weight of responsibility is pretty different. Hanada: Momoka's time at DD is similar to the story of Takeshi Tomizawa in the manzai duo 「Sandwhichman」. Tomizawa had convinced his friend Mikio Date to become stand-up comedians together. But for 10 years they couldn't make it big, barely surviving on doing part-time and odd jobs. Tomizawa said to Date 「The only way I can apologize to you is by killing myself」. That's the kind of mental state Momoka was in. That weight of responsibility crushing on her was the main reason she felt like she could no longer be in the band.

――Once again, with regards to the band name 「Togenashi Togeari」. How was the name decided? In the anime, Nina saw it by chance on the T-shirt of an audience…

Hanada: Oh there's no deep meaning to it. Just one of the many ideas that we whittle down in meetings.

――The name of their rival band 「Diamond Dust」 is in a way very typical. So TogeToge's name is quite impactful.

Hanada: Not really, at first I thought 「Are we really fine with this name?」. It's going to be the name of the real-life band as well after all. But, when it comes to names of famous bands and manzai duos, having a somewhat random name surprisingly works out well (laughs). We had a lot of different suggestions but, since this is a band that was formed from such a story, we decided this thorny name that stands out is the way to go.

Page 4

「Life does not end after graduation」 , writing about facing society head on

――As for the members of the real-life band, this is the first time they have all voice-acted, I want to ask what are your thoughts on it? Hanada: Sure when it comes to acting itself, a professional with plenty of experience would be better. But the way these girls put their soul into the character, they all have an extraordinary level of passion, as they build on it episode by episode they get better exponentially. Combining both voice acting and band practice, it links to the essence of TogeToge in the anime.

――You gave the example of a family of 5 earlier, the cast members managed to portray it exactly as you said. Hanada: When I first watched Episode 1 「Tokyo Wasshoi」 and Episdoe 2 「Yakousei no Ikimomo sanbiki」, I never expected they could perfectly encapsulate their characters like in Episode 8 「 Moshimo kimi ga naku naraba」. It was truly incredible.

――Were there any scenarios you added to your script from inspirations from the activities of the real-life band? Hanada: No, I try not to. If the real-life band doesn't sell at all like in the anime that would be very troubling (laughs). Nina and the band said 「Even if we aren't making money, we will still move forward!」. So if we were to mix those together would be pretty bad…Like before in the halftime show of the J league.

(referring to the Kawasaki Sprint half-time event Tomo's VA Natsu ran on May 11th, a J1 league match between Kawasaki Frontale and Sapporo Consadole)

The members of TogeToge were on the field cheering on the event. But if it was Nina she would absolutely say 「Why are we doing this! This is not why I'm in this band!」 while her thorns go flying about (laughs). If I do link this to the anime I'll have to spend the rest of my life apologizing to the cast.

――You mentioned on social media that you wanted to write more episodes. I believe it was about Toma and Rupa. Are there any other ideas? Hanada: I wanted their trip to Nagano to be just a little bit longer. Oh and a comedy episode like the first half of Episode 9 「Kaketa Tsukiga Deteita」. Just an episode of them chittering and chattering around would be very funny.

――My impression after all 13 episodes, is it was mostly the drama aspect that's been cramped in with little room for the comedic element. Hanada: Yes that's right. Nina barging into Tomo's house in episode 9 is an example, I thought it'd be nice if we had more chances to include this kind of scene.

――Rupa also kicked down Subaru's door in that episode. I'm surprised that this gag showed such a gap compared to what we usually see of Rupa. In a way she's quite the martial artist, that is one of Rupa's inexplicit settings right. Hanada: Right right, Rupa is extremely strong in a fight. Oh, and she also loves to defeat her opponents by getting them drunk on alcohol. She'll line up glasses of tequila and have a drinking match. She loves the look on her opponent's face when they are passed out drunk.

――She has the impression of someone who's light and drifting, but in reality, when you go against her, she has no openings. On top of that, she is physically strong as well. Kind of like a Final Boss of a video game. Hanada: Speaking of being strong in a fight, for Nina, Rupa is an adult who knows the right kind of fights to take on. Compared to Momoka who surprisingly doesn't. That's why in Episode 11 「Centre of the World」, that concert was the best way to take on a fight against DD. That is how adults should fight is what I'm trying to express.

――In this series, Nina's relationship with her family is a very critical part of the story. How did you structure the story? Hanada: Regarding Nina's family as depicted in Episode 10 「Wandervogel」. Actually, director Sakai requested a big change from the original script. In my script, after Nina talked to her father beyond the sliding door, her father did not come out and send her off. The final scene was her holding the keys to her apartment and a shot of the cut-down branch in the front garden. Like with the ending of Episode 4 「Kansha(Odoroki)」, I had no plans for things to end happily where everyone understands each other. That aspect is still around to a certain degree, but I left some space for others to write. Nina and her father in the end couldn't understand each other, but they both recognize that the only path they can move is forward. Director Sakai is an actual father with children. So as a father, he thought Nina should receive a proper send-off from her father.

――In the very last scene of the anime, the band quits the agency and starts from scratch. Hanada: If the ending was a fully seated Budoukan and they won against DD, the story would just end up like 「Love Live」. I have no plans for a happy ending right from the start. Like Episode 10 we discussed earlier, I don't think any problems can be that easily solved. But even so, one can only move forward. That's the one theme I want this story to be consistent with. So when I thought what's the best way to express such a theme in the ending. I came up with what we have now.

――If you could make a sequel, what sort of stories would you like to include? Previously you mentioned the comedic elements… Hanada: This is just an example I thought of but, Nina gets persuaded by a super ikemen vocalist to heedlessly follow him into his house. But when it seemed like he was about to make a move on her, Nina knocks him out with a tomoe-nage judo throw and runs back home. I can't include bits like this if it was an idol show. So I thought it'd be pretty funny to include it. Oh, and I would love to make more episodes about their daily lives.

――Once again, now that the anime has finished airing. Do you have any response or thoughts about it? Hanada: Of the stories I've written about a group of girls centred around music, all of them are set in high school so the story ends after graduation. But, life does not end at the graduation ceremony. When I thought about it, I gave myself homework of sorts. I must write a story about 「Life Beyond Graduation」. This series has a bit of that in it. 「Beyond Graduation」 is in other words, facing head-on against society. There comes a time when one must face society with nothing to protect you with. So for me, including such a theme in my writing is like stepping into uncharted waters.

――As a whole, this story seems like it is written from the perspective of Nina's coming to terms with society.

Compared to episode 1, Nina has grown a lot by the final episode. For example, if it was the Nina who first came to Tokyo. She would have never accepted their manager Miura lowering her head to DD, asking for help about the band battle. Nina would've been extremely angry about it. But she has come to understand that one needs to compromise with society. Adults have their own complicated situations to deal with too. Mirua's actions are for the benefit of the band and Nina has learned to be grateful about it.

――Lastly, do you have any messages for the fans? Thank you for supporting this story with such a pain-in-the-ass main character (laughs). When I was writing this story, I thought that it would be hard for people to love this girl. But in the end, she has gained so many fans. I'm honestly shocked by it but nonetheless, I am grateful. I wish one day there's another chance for us to meet again somewhere. Please continue to support us.

――Thank you very much!

Part 2 of this interview will be with the cast members

#girls band cry #togenashi togeari #translation #iseri nina #kawaragi momoka #awa subaru #ebizuka tomo #rupa #jukki hanada

48 notes · View notes

xxladyballadxx · 2 months

Text

Bad Day

Dick Grayson x Platonic Best Friend! Reader

Summary : Just (Y/n) having a bad day after Bruce had a go at him/her for borrowing the batmobile for a spin around Gotham without his permission. Dick comes and visits you to cheer you up by taking you out.

Note: Since the reader will be like a platonic best friend to Dick Grayson. No romance will be involved in this fanfiction. The reader is gn! Also, I’m not quite familiar with rides at a funfair lmao since I haven’t been on them for ages!

☆ dividers by @plum98 ☆

Bruce found out that you took his batmobile out for a spin while he was on a vacation with his special lady Selina Kyle. You asked yourself a very silly question wondering how the hell he found out and you know an answer damn well to that. After being scolded by the old man, you stormed off to your bedroom and slam-kicked the door shut, locking it as you let out an angry scream out on your pillow with your face to it.

Alfred knocked on it a few times wanting to check up on you. You repeatedly told him, not in a horrible way, to give you some space for the time being. A few hours later, a very good friend of yours popped by to visit you. Alfred called up Dick Grayson to try and talk to you.

“(Y/n)?” Dick called out your name, beating down your door with a few knocks. You swept your legs out of the bed to unlock it, swinging it open to see that charming guy friend whom you haven’t seen for quite a while.

“Oh hey Dick…” you greeted him moodily. Dick noticed that you were still pissed off with Bruce having a go at you. About the batmobile situation. “Did Bruce go all ‘Batman’ on you when you rode his batmobile without his permission?” Sort of silly of him to ask you that because it’s so freaking obvious.

“Yes…” you murmured in response, letting Dick inside your room. An idea swept across his mind, “Get changed, we’re going out tonight.”

“Really where to?”

“Just get changed, (Y/n), I promise you it will be worth it.”

As Dick patiently waited for you outside the Wayne Manor, you slipped on your converse shoes and headed outside seeing Dick standing by with a grin as he saw you hopped out, “Ready to go?”

You adjusted your jacket, still wondering where he’s planning to take you, “Yeah so….” taking a pause there as you checked your bag to see if you had everything, “Where exactly are we going?”

“You will have to wait until we get there, buddy…” He curved out a smirk, throwing you the extra helmet before hopping on his motorbike.

So the place he wanted to take you to was an enormous, colourful funfair somewhere around in Gotham City. Many fun rides you laid your eyes on looked promising, families spending time with their kids while they snack on lollipops, cotton candy and other junkies too. The whole site was booming tremendously with joys and laughter shooting through the citizens of Gotham enjoying themselves. Such a heartfelt feeling to see this kind of event.

“So many people…”

Dick gave a lightheart laugh, coming into the funfair with you, “I know you’re not a fan of this sort of thing but I thought bringing you out might cheer you up!” to be honest, you usually don’t like going to a special event like this but you slowly began to allow yourself to join in the fun since you’re with Dick. You shone a grin across your features, turning your head over to your pal, “So, Mister, which ride are we going on?”

And that’s where the fun begins by going on roller coasters that get you throbbing excitedly while waving your arms in the air screaming like a psycho. Ghost rides were quite fun and what’s most joyful about it is getting jumpscared by those skeletons-ghosts kind of thing creeping up on you. You hopped on other rides such as teacups that spun you around like crazy, carousel, bumpy cars, swinging boats…

Last but not least: the old, classic ferris wheel which is most popular out of all the crazy-fun rides in the funfair. Couples and besties love to go on that sort of thing. Families too. While up in the air, you could see the whole city of Gotham, the buildings and all. You peeked through the glass, seeing kids with their parents roaming around the area. Laughing and smiling. Somehow it made you smile too. Dick noticed the little spark of joy shining across your face, he remained quiet because he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

After the last ride, Dick brought you a bubblegum ice cream to snack on. A mint chocolate one for himself, his favourite. You two found yourselves an empty, spotless bench near the stalls wanting to sit down to eat your ice cream.

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/n)?” Dick asked, licking the scoop of Vanilla on the cone. Since he managed to make your day with smiles and sweeties, you weren’t currently in a bad mood anymore. It’s a good thing that Dick got the opportunity to take you out of the Wayne Manor after that batmobile incident. “Honestly, I never realized that I needed this so…it was fun hanging out with you, Dick Grayson.” You gave him an honest answer, finishing off your Vanilla ice cream.

“I’m glad to hear that! Also, Don’t let Bruce get to you. That guy always gets mad over things, like his precious batmobile.”

“I know right?! He’s always like this, ‘Touch my batmobile or anything else in the cave, you’re fired’ You changed your tone while drowning out in laughter, impersonating Bruce Wayne.

Dick almost spat out his mint chocolate while letting out a bursting laugh at your impersonation of the almighty Batman. You joined in the continuous laughter with him. You downed all your Vanilla ice cream before leaving the funfair with Dick driving you back to Wayne Manor on his motorbike. “Hey Dick, thanks for taking me out here. It’s exactly what I needed after…you know…”

He gave a light pat on your shoulder, “Don’t mention it. I know Bruce can be a pain in the ass at times but he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah…yeah you're right he is…”

“Hey..” Dick elbowed you gently before walking back to his motorbike, “Call me if you ever want to hang out, alright?”

You sighed, smiling momentarily while walking up to the entrance of the Wayne Manor, “I will…I will…”

a/n - It's hard to believe Dick's favourite ice cream flavour is mint chocolate (Internet helps lmao) because it's my favourite too! (Well it used to be Vanilla but got changed to that flavour) Also, if you don't like the flavour Vanilla, you can imagine your own since everybody prefer another flavour of ice cream.

I didn't do much proofread so sorry if there's any mistakes or if it's very boring to read. I wrote this out of the blue because I was kinda in a shitty mood and feeling a bit unwell atm (Not to mention I've been feeling kinda moody...) Many people I know are getting sick probably because of the season or something. I don't think I will be in the mood to write another fanfic for a while...

*sigh*

But who knows...

#dc comics #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing #x platonic best friend! reader #dc comics x reader #x platonic!reader

29 notes · View notes

nalledimessi · 1 month

Text

Save me

Hello there friends, I hope everyone is doing well, I know it has been a really long time since I post, I have the terrible habit of stop writing when everything gets too much for me. This pass year my life has been like a roller coaster; I know probably all of you or the majority don't care to much about it but I have to express it somewhere and somehow, but anyway I leave you with this ending of the non-series that I made. Divider by @firefly-graphics

Broken Rule

Regrets

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Winchester sister

Warnings: Mention of killing, blood, and curses.

Words: 827

Notes: Listen Save me from BTS

Tag’s: @valsworldofcreativity @helenasingers @r13mar @elijahs-wife

You crumble next to a tree, your right-hand applying pressure on your bloody open wound. “Damned” you curse watching the blood staring to spread on your t-shirt.

Leaning your head on the tree for support, you could see the clear sky adorned by stars, what a beautiful night to end up dying, you thought, well at least the constant sadness and emptiness settle on your heart would disappear and you would finally rest, although it will be forever.

You could hear the footsteps on the dry leaves from both sides getting closer and closer “shit” you cursed, getting up, the tree as your support, taking a deep breath and trying to concentrate to find where the attack would be first “right” you mentioned, raising your gun and pointing that direction.

“It’s impressive how far you could go with that wound” the ghoul in human form announces appearing on the other side, making you turn abruptly, whining at the sudden movement, pointing the gun at him. “I'm a Winchester after all” you replied proudly trying to ignore the buzz in your ears and blurred look.

“Oh, I'm aware of it” starting to walk in your direction, a macabre smile on his lips “soon you will stop being one”

Aiming your gun at him, but failing due your blurred gaze, you knew even you end up killing him, the other ghoul, that isn't too far away would reach you and kill you, lowering your gun and glancing to the sky, forgetting the ghoul in front of you “how I like to see you just one more time”

Splashes reached your face, getting it wet, making you look in front of you, just in time to see the ghoul’s head drop along his body, reveling a human form “what the hell?” you whisper before fainting.

Stopping the engine of your car, you release a sigh resting your head on the seat. “Let’s get this over with” you voice worn out.

“Oh, you’re back” Sam exclaims, excited while watching you descend the stairs of the bunker.

“Don’t get too excited Sammy” you warm him “just staying until Bobby calls back with a new assignment” you mention once you were close by.

“Oh” he let out sad “how was your last hunting?” he inquiry, concern.

“Same as always” passing him by in direction to your room, not giving him much attention or time to chat. “Search, hunt and kill, just to do it all over again”

“Sis, I’m worry about you” he declared in a tone that make you stop suddenly.

A sigh left your mouth, turning around to see him, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes, trying to calm him, after all he was your baby brother “I’m fine Sammy, don’t worry” you state before continuing your way.

“She just needs a shower, food and a good night of sleep” Dean bring up, while patting his shoulder.

“I hope you’re right Dean” his gaze fix where you disappear “or she could end hurting herself badly”

Dropping your duffel bag at the edge of the bed, while at the same time falling face down on it “shit” cursing almost immediately once laying down.

Standing up, in direction of your bathroom, the reflection on the mirror stopped you from examining your abdomen wound, dark circles under your eyes, pale skin, cuts and bruises where your clothes allowed to see.

Lowering your head with eyes closed, good reason for Sam concerns, how could you be so reckless? Your mind drifting to New Orleans and to him.

The ring of your phone distracts you, answering as a reflect, “Hi Bobby, what do you have for me?”

Giving one last glance to your bedroom, you could notice all the difference between here and your bedroom back in New Orleans, all kind of books scattered around on both rooms, messy bed instead a neat one, closed and dusty smell instead of his, like sandalwood and rum spice. A scent you swear you could smell.

Denying with your head before passing your duffel bag over your shoulder, starting your way to the garage, trying at all cost to avoid any of your brothers.

“Y/N” Sam call your name, your hand on the garage knob.

“Almost” you whisper before turning around, forcing a smile for your own good “Bobby call, a possible Wendigo in Oklahoma” you state.

“Castiel is on his way, you could rest while he arrives to cure you” he suggests “if we explain Bobby, he will understand, he can assign another hunter” he offers coming closer to you.

“I can't Sam” making him stop confuse, looking at you waiting for an explanation. You sigh defeated “hunting it's the only thing that keeps me sane” you reveal to him.

“If this is about New Orleans, you know you can talk to me” he affirms and offer.

“Yeah” you respond in a low voice, turning around “there’s nothing to talk about” you declared before leaving.

A familiar scent reaches your nostrils, blinking several times to adjust your eyes to the bright light, some pieces of memory returning, causing you to a seated position abruptly.

“You’re finally awake” the soft but firm voice express, setting your glance on him.

“Elijah” you pronounce “what are you doing here?” question him but didn't allow him to finish “Don't get me wrong without you I would be probably dead,” you stop and start looking around “shit! I need to call my brothers; Dean will kill me” you express trying to stand up from bed.

His hand on your shoulder, stopping you from standing “Calm down” giving you a glass of water “I came for you” turning away from you “they’re here”

“Y/N!” Sam shout as soon he enters, reaching your side while Dean stand behind watching Elijah.

“I would leave you alone” he said, with his glance fix in you.

“Elijah!” you exclaim trying to stand reach him.

He was next to you in an instant, thanks to his vamp speed, his right hand on your back and his left one on yours “I won't go anywhere” he assures you “I would get another room” caressing your hand before leaving you, Dean glance follow him.

“So, that was Elijah” Sam state more than question, watching you nod.

“What the hell is he doing here? With you on a hotel room?” Dean inquired, crossing his arms over his chest waiting for you to answer.

“He’s the reason why I’m alive, Dean” taking a deep breath, remembering the events “I keep screwing up things,” Sam squeezing your hand, encourage you to continue “there where 2 ghouls instead one, I was able to kill one but I end up several injured, I was chase thought the forest, was about to kill me when Elijah appear”

“Killing the ghoul and saving you” Sam finish for you “where were you hurt?” lifting your right side of your blouse “there’s nothing here”

“How?” Dean exclaimed, inspecting where the wound used to be.

“Vampire blood” you spilled out of your mouth without thinking, to then look to their confused faces “has healing qualities” you stop, taking a sip of the water glass to then continue “but if you die with it in your system, you begin the transition to vampire”

Before Dean could start a fight, a knock on the door was listen, before Elijah enter the room “my apologies for the interruption, the vampire blood is almost out of her system and there’s nothing to worry about it” he explains approaching Sam, providing a key “you should settle down while your sister rest” he announces.

“Oh sure, thanks” Sam answer before giving you one last squeeze in your hand “try to rest” glancing at Dean.

Dean’s gaze changed between you and Elijah, a resigned sigh “Get some sleep kiddo” he orders before leaving the room.

Elijah starts to walk to the room door, “stay” you shout while his hand settles on the knob. He didn't say anything, just took off his suit jacket and vest, leaving it on a chair to then walk to your side and lay down, he passes his hand under your head, making you use it as pillow, your head set on the crook of his arm.

“How are you feeling?” he questions you, starting to caress your head.

“A little tired and sore” answering in automatic, your mind in other things.

“What is in your mind, darling?” moving to his side to see you.

You lift your head to see him, your gazes crossing “Too many questions and no answers at all”

He smiles “I would answer 3 of those questions” kissing your forehead “think wisely darling” he advice you.

You nod, thinking your questions, after a few minutes “How did you find me?” you finally question him.

“My sisters, Freya along Rebekah did a locator spell to find you” he expresses “they miss you”

You open your mouth “they miss me?” you state without thinking.

“Are you sure you want to use your question?” he questions you, looking you denied of his question and stay quiet for a few minutes.

“Why are you here?” you whisper, not sure enough to listen the answer.

“For you,” he declares “it seems you have you have caused a quit impression in all of my siblings, even Klaus express he don't have anyone to fight” he then presses his forehead in yours, a few inches away your face “to be true I’m smitten with you” he finally admits.

Placing you hand over his cheek “what this means to us?” closing your eyes, knowing the answer of this question could change everything.

He puts his hand over yours, caressing it, making you open your eyes “Darling, I love you. And I would fight for you, against anyone or anything” he announces watching you directly.” he places a kiss on your lips before standing from bed “we’ll talk about this later” he let you know before the door open reveling your brother with a tray of foods.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #elijah mikaelson x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchester sister #winchester x mikaelson #winchester!sister

22 notes · View notes

sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 11 months

Text

Winter pt. 2 | JJK

Hello darlings!!!

Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)

Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.

Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only on your memories but also in your heart.

Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut, pregnancy, descriptions of delivery, pregnancy complications, arranged marriage, blood, character death, heartache, yearning, forbidden love, more angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, heartbreak, fainting, heart disease, Jungkook writes poetry, funeral, mentions of reincarnation, ANGST (WARNINGS APPLY TO BOTH PARTS!) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 13, 152k words

A/N Hi, darlings! It's been so long since I posted Autumn for you guys and I am so terribly sorry for the months wait. I really hope you will like this third part of "Four Seasons"!

I've been working on this for months now but lately I've found new inspiration to finally finish this and trust me, it will be a total roller coaster! Thank you so much to the people who commented on the other two parts as they all gave me such motivation to return to this story!

A/N I had to divide Winter into two parts because apparently Tumblr doesn't like to have too much paragraphs in one post! The two parts of this long chapter are linked on the masterpost of this series! Please let me know what you thought of this part, I really hope you will like it and it leaves you yearning for more! Without entertaining you further, happy reading, everyone!

💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜

~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife

Isn't it beautiful how the seasons change?

Isn't it beautiful how you never do?

For you are that summer flower I once saw.

Dressed in delicate petals of love.

You are the snow that freezes my heart.

You are the soft breeze on an autumn day.

My sun during summer and my flower during spring.

But I cannot touch you. I cannot hold you like my soul wishes to do.

My darling. My love. My woman. My soul.

What did I do to not have you by my side?

Is love a crime?

Then I am a criminal, even when it was you who stole my heart.

I miss you. I want you. I need you.

I cannot breathe without you near me.

I prefer death than a fate where we can't be together.

My moon. My sun. My Queen. Owner of my being.

Jungkook jumped in his seat when the door to his room slid open. He placed his brush aside before standing up to face Hoseok.

"The Queen requests your presence in her chambers, Jungkook."

The younger man nodded and placed his papers in order before he left his room following Hoseok through the large corridors of the palace.

It has been three days since you gave birth to Prince Ha-joon. Three agonising days in which he hadn't seen a glimpse of your existence. And it was killing him. His memories of you were too far to grasp and take console in them.

Jungkook didn't recall having to walk all the way from his room to your personal chambers. He didn't remember when Hoseok announced his presence, for he was brought to reality when you spoke his name. Your voice being the only thing that could bring him back from his thoughts.

His eyes met your own in a dance of emotions that he had to clasp his hands in front of him to stop them from shaking.

"You called for me, Your Majesty."

He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.

"Jungkook."

The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.

You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.

"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."

You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.

"I missed you."

He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.

"My Queen... please."

You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.

"Forgive me."

He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.

"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."

His words weren't cruel, you should have thanked him for his blessings but it only caused you bitterness. Because Jungkook wasn't a part of that family. You had made your life without him and that realisation sank within the caves of your soul in that moment.

All those times you had dreamed, wished, pleaded and imagined your future, Jungkook was always in the picture. He always stood next to you. But fate was a cruel force. That was only a dream. Your reality was different from what you had once wished and still desired deep in your heart.

A life with him. An opportunity to love. For him. For you. To love Jungkook.

"Thank you."

Those words left your lips in a soft whisper. Afraid of speaking any louder, afraid of facing reality once more. There existed enough pain in your life, you didn't want to add salt to the wound but it kept happening. Every time you saw Jungkook you were reminded of your love for him and that distant dream of the future you once saw yourself dancing in.

Life in the palace continued. The days passed, weeks turned into months, months turned into years as the seasons changed. Time was frozen while it escaped at the same time. It made you remember, it made you forget. It made Jungkook let go, it made him yearn.

He guarded you, protected you like he had vowed to. You smiled in your solitude, dreamed in your agony.

Petal of a yielding flower.

Host of my mind.

Lover of a taken heart.

Queen of my life.

I see my universe in your eyes.

Life is not fair,

but neither is death.

For I live in a world of lies.

I own you my smiles,

my tears are yours to be held.

And when I wish my time would end,

I remember what it was to love such beauty on this earth.

My sunrise. My light. My dusk. My night.

Cradle me in your embrace.

Let me live in your heart.

Grant this wish to this poor man.

Or end my life;

for in death shall I find peace from this cruel destiny.

Jungkook sat against a tree, watching you from afar. Your baby boy just turned two years old this summer. Now it was autumn. The leaves were dying, the air was cooler but his love for you still existed in his heart.

You were with Jimin, the both of you were in the garden playing with Ha-joon. Jungkook saw you smile and laugh from where he stood. The jealousy and bitterness he once felt toward the king had melted like ice on a summer day. His soul was filled with the remnants of his feelings. A melancholy lived inside him about the "what if's" of his life, of what had happened.

Jimin had taken some time from his busy schedule to spend it with his little family. He loved seeing you smile, he was happy at that moment. Everything was perfect. Everything was like he had once imagined it to be. His son was already walking around, a bit clumsy but he was too cute to not stare at the little prince.

Ha-joon had your eyes, he had his father's lips as well. He was a really cute combination of his parents who loved the little boy too much.

You watched as Jimin lifted Ha-joon before the both of them fell into a pile of dry leaves. You chuckled, crouching down on the ground after having been running around the place. You panted with a soft smile on your face, printing the image in front of you into your mind forever.

Your husband picked up the little boy in his arms before walking back to where you were. He offered you his hand and you took it as you stood up from the ground.

"Are you fairing, My Queen?"

He asked, a bit of concern behind his words. You nodded, brushing your skirt with delicate movements.

"Yes, I'm just tired of running all around the garden."

Jimin chuckled, looking down at Ha-joon who clung to his neck, also tired after playing for some time now.

"Let's get back then."

His hand grabbed yours as he began to lead you back to the small tent in the garden where a table with fruits and tea rested. It was near a large tree where Jungkook stood writing his poems with words carried by the wind. He saw how the king began to approach and put down his papers and brush before standing up.

He bowed when you and Jimin entered the tent. Your husband handed Ha-joon to one of the damsels with care and soft delicacy.

"Put him to sleep, he's tired."

The young woman nodded, taking the little prince from the king's hold before she left with your son in her arms. You sat down on the soft cushions with Jimin by your side, he poured you a cup of tea with elegance. Just like he had done many moons ago when he was only your fiance.

You thanked him with a soft smile, taking the cup as your fingers brushed his with the motion. Jungkook watched as you took a sip of the hot beverage, his eyes travelled down your profile, taking in how beautiful you looked at that exact moment. Not that you had ever looked ugly to his eyes, but in that precise fragment of time, you looked ethereal. Mesmerizingly beautiful. He didn't have enough words to describe your beauty at that moment.

Jimin was about to take a sip from his own cup of tea when Captain Yoongi came jogging toward the tent. He bowed down at you two before speaking, his voice laced with urgency.

"My king, may I have a quick word with you?"

Your husband sighed silently, putting his cup down on the table before standing up. He glanced down at you for a second only to then walk away with Yoongi by his side. You saw how they discussed something in the distance but you couldn't tell what it was as they were both out of earshot.

You let out a deep breath, putting your own cup next to Jimin's before you looked up at Jungkook.

"Do you want some tea, Jungkook?"

Your question brought him back to reality as he savoured the way his name sounded on your lips. It was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

But he shook his head. Not allowed to show any emotion on his features.

"No, thank you, My Queen."

The response he gave you sounded dry and it made your heart clench with desire.

"Are you alright? You've been... distant as of lately."

He looked down at you but this time, you didn't see the storms of emotions hidden in his doe eyes. You didn't see anything. And it pained you to know that perhaps he didn't love you anymore. Because you still did. With all your heart.

"I am merely doing my job, Your Majesty."

You wanted so bad to reach up to him and hold his hand, to feel him. For him to ease your chaotic heart.

"Then don't. Please, Jungkook, do not distance yourself from me."

He sighed. It didn't matter how much distance he put between you both, if it were in words or even an ocean in the middle of you two. You always managed to pull him back.

"I have to, My Queen. Otherwise, I won't be able to resist the temptation. I could harm you. I could burn you with the flames of my love. I could destroy the life you have now. I could taint you with my carnal desires. I could do things... unforgivable things and the only wish I have in this life is for you to not be harmed. And for that to happen, I must put distance between us, even when my heart screams your name."

Your eyes filled with tears at his confession. At the revelation of his heart, his desires, his yearning for you. He still loved you, he still wanted you. He would always be yours.

"My heart is yours as well. Do not deny me the pleasure of existing next to you. Your existence is more than enough to soothe my wounded soul, Jungkook."

He bowed at you softly, eyes glazed with his own tears as emotions swirled once more in his dark orbs.

Jimin began walking back and you had to blink back the tears in your eyes. You distracted yourself with your cup of tea as he sat down next to you again.

"What happened? Captain Min looked serious while talking to you."

He smiled at you, eyes closing with the action before answering. His voice was soft and calm, like a summer breeze.

"Nothing to worry you about, Queen of my heart."

You sent him a tight smile, placing the cup on the table. Not feeling in the mood of drinking more tea.

"(y/n), you're bleeding."

Jimin said, causing Jungkook to look at you alarmed as you felt something trailing down your nose. You wiped it only to see that your fingers were painted in crimson. You wiped again and again but the blood continued to flow.

Your husband grabbed a soft handkerchief and pressed it to your nose.

"It's nothing. I probably ran too fast while playing in the garden.

But the king wasn't tranquil with your response. He felt something, as if words were whispered in his ear to not let it be unattended.

"I'll call for a physician."

Your hand grabbed his, something Jungkook didn't miss from where he stood. He watched your tangled hands with your marriage rings on your finger as you stopped your husband from getting up.

"I'm fine, Jimin. I promise. This has happened to me since I was a child. Don't worry, please."

That seemed to calm him down a bit as he settled back on his seat next to you. Holding his handkerchief below your nose as the bleeding began to stop gradually.

"Be careful, alright?"

You nodded at his words, your eyes shifted momentarily to Jungkook's wide gaze and you tried to reassure him as best as you could without a word leaving your lips.

The days were colder with the arrival of winter. Such beauty fell from the grey skies, a beauty that burns with ice.

Jungkook was reminded of your wedding day as he strolled down one of the corridors. The weather, such coldness invaded his mind, his thoughts, his heart; just like that day. When he witnessed you become the wife of another man. When he watched you lose your freedom and your life changed forever.

A feeling of melancholy suddenly invaded his heart, squeezing it with the cold claws of fate.

He took a turn, his mind lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the voices in the hallway. Jungkook felt how something suddenly crashed into his legs and he was quick to react and grab the hand of the little boy who was running absentmindedly. The little boy who was your son. The prince of the dynasty.

Ha-joon looked up and Jungkook saw his resemblance to you. He had your eyes. He smiled softly to the boy until Hoseok came jogging to where they stood.

"My prince, come on. Don't run away like that again."

Hoseok said, his eyes trained on the little prince who looked at him and then shifted his gaze back to Jungkook. The younger man let go of the kid's hand and Hoseok was quick to pick him up.

"He's a handful sometimes."

Jungkook chuckled, remembering those summer days when you walked in freedom through the gardens. He saw you in your son as memories swam in his hand.

"I can imagine. Kids at his age are always curious and full of energy."

Hoseok let out a soft laugh, looking at Ha-joon in his arms and also seeing the resemblance of you in him.

"Thanks, Jungkook. He suddenly ran away from me."

"It's no problem. Take care of him, Hoseok."

The older man nodded before he turned around and walked back down the corridor.

"Kook!"

The little prince exclaimed with a wide smile, his lips were plump like his father's and his cheeks puffed out cutely with the motion. Jungkook smiled and waved at the prince who waved back with his little hand before disappearing around the corner in the arms of Hoseok.

He sighed. Once more being left alone with his cold thoughts on a winter day. With frozen hopes and a blurred future.

You were in your room watching how the snowflakes fell slowly to the gardens. Your embroidery was left forgotten on your lap as your mind got lost in your memories.

A knock in your door interrupted your train of thought. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture before saying in a steady voice.

"Come in"

The door slid open and Hoseok entered with Ha-joon in his arms. You smiled at the sight of your child and your best friend set the toddler down as he ran clumsily towards you.

"Mummy!"

You hugged the little prince when he crashed into you and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. He was too cute to resist. He began playing with your embroidery as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, tracing his little fingers over the drawings.

"My Queen, the little prince is very eager to explore the palace. Do you want to take him to the gardens and let him play in the snow? Maybe that'd tire him out a bit so that he can sleep soundly tonight."

Your hand caressed your son's dark hair, taking in its softness before you turned your focus back to Hoseok.

"I'm tired, Hobi. I don't think I'd be able to run around in the gardens."

He nodded, eyes shifting to Ha-joon whose world now rotated around your elegant embroidery.

"Do you allow me to speak freely, Your Majesty?"

You nodded at him.

"Of course, I've told you many times that you do not need to ask for such a thing. You are my best friend."

He smiled lovingly.

"Those words are simple formalities, my Queen, but what I wanted to say was that maybe you could accompany us to the gardens. Have some fresh air. I can play with the little prince, but he misses his mother."

You smiled, looking down at Ha-joon who returned your gaze with big eyes.

"Alright then, hand me my coat please and tell one of the damsels to dress the prince warmly."

You stood under the palace roof, a heavy coat over your shoulders as you sipped on some hot tea while watching Hoseok play in the snow with little Ha-joon. A soft smile graced your lips at the sight and the sound of your little boy's giggles.

A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew your way, strands of hair flying with the wind. Hobi let himself fall on the snow with a dramatic yell, making you laugh as Ha-joon went to lay on his chest.

"Up, up."

The prince said, trying to get Hoseok to stand up and pick him up but the man layed there panting softly.

"I'm tired, my prince. Hold on."

You watched them both fondly, your eyes lowered to the tea in your cup until you felt how your heart skipped a beat.

"Kook!"

Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.

Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.

He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.

Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.

"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"

But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.

Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.

It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.

"Your Majesty."

Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.

"Kook! Play, together."

Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you for his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.

"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."

Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.

You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.

"You may play, but please be careful."

Jungkook bowed down and your little son once more mimicked him with a sweet giggle that would have made you smile had you been in another circumstance. Ha-joon's small hand curled around Jungkook's fingers as he "dragged" him further into the garden. The man clearly gives in to the desires of the child. Not without glancing your way one more time.

You took a deep breath when they were both far away from you. As if you were suddenly able to breathe when he was not near you but playing in the snow as the giggles of your prince were heard. You blinked back the tears that had gathered in your eyes, you wouldn't cry now. It was not the time for that.

"My Queen, please take a seat."

You refused Hoseok's suggestion with a shake of your head. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn't tear your gaze away from Jungkook and Ha-joon playing together.

If only fate had been different.

If only you hadn't been a princess.

If only your story was written with another ending.

Then the scene before you would have been a happy one. But Jungkook was not the father of your child and you didn't want to question your fate with Jimin. It wouldn't be fair to him when he loves you just as ardently as you love Jungkook.

Time slipped from your fingers like water from a river. Cold to the touch. Liquid to the memory. You watched them play and laugh while your heart teared apart within you.

Soft footsteps were heard from your left but you didn't shift your gaze from your giggling little prince.

"My Queen,"

The voice of one of your damsels spoke and you didn't have to look at her to know she was bowing down at you.

"His Majesty requests your presence in the Main Hall."

You took a deep breath, the cold air of winter burned your lungs with the motion but despite the action, you still felt as if you were being suffocated.

"Queen (y/n)."

Your eyes met the worried gazed of Hoseok as uncertainty painted his dark orbs.

"It's alright, take care of Ha-joon for me."

Hoseok bowed down at you as you straightened up your posture and looked at Ha-joon and Jungkook for a moment before you forced yourself to walk away. You weren't aware of the concerned look your best friend gave you nor the longing gaze Jungkook sent your way.

He watched you walk away and despite all the times he had witnessed the same sight, his heart still clenched upon seeing you leaving him behind.

You didn't look back. You couldn't. Your heart wouldn't be able to take it. Each step you took forward hurt like an arrow piercing your heart over and over again. You closed your eyes, taking in the pain in your chest.

Fate gave you the cruellest gift you had ever received. A glimpse of your dream life only to be shattered by reality like ice against a wall. It hurt. Your hands trembled even when you clasped them in front of you to keep them warm. It was useless.

You lived in an eternal winter. Your heart was frozen, your soul had crumbled to a pile of white snow tainted with the ashes of your dreams. It was fair. But life has never been fair to you. To anyone, actually.

But you weren't a victim here. Not anymore. If fate didn't want you and Jungkook together, you'd fight in each and every lifetime to meet with him again and complete your story next to him. You owned it to him, to his love, his devotion. His innocent heart that carried the purest love within him.

Tears clouded your vision and a lump grew in your throat. You weren't a victim, but that didn't mean you couldn't cry about your misfortunes.

The tears began rolling down your cheeks, feeling how your heart ached for a man who would never be yours and a future you couldn't live.

You had to cover your mouth to quiet the sobs that threatened to spill from your lips. For it had been too much for your soul to endure. You had gotten to your breaking point, the point of no-return. It hurt. The mere thought of Jungkook was enough to make your heart clench in your chest.

You took a deep breath, tried to calm yourself as you walked down the large corridors. Your hands wiped your cheeks but the lump in your throat stayed, the pain in your chest didn't fade. Almost as if it had found its home within you.

You were about to meet your husband in the main hall of the royal palace. You couldn't be seen crying and less for another man you yearned so fiercely for. You were the Queen. Mother of the Crown Prince. Wife to the King of Gyeongdong. Daughter of the dynasty.

You had to be strong.

You could cry in private later. But not now. It wasn't your place to do so. A Queen doesn't cry. A Queen is strong. A Queen fights. You sighed, taking strength from your own aching heart to continue walking, to face your reality. To live in this written fate.

Even when your mind was elsewhere, even when your hands trembled and your feet itched to turn back and run into the arms of your lover. Even when your chest didn't stop hurting, you held on. Just like every other time before.

You just held on.

The king sat on his throne, the ministers had just left the large room after their council and he had a deep desire to see his wife. Jimin let out a sigh, his mind going back in the seasons, remembering. Going back in time in his mind.

He remembered your wedding day, he remembered the cool autumn day when he saw you for the first time. He had heard the princess was beautiful but no words were enough to describe your beauty in front of him.

The sound of your voice was forever engraved in his memories, your smile was sweeter than any candy in the world. He had fallen in love with you. He loved you, all of you. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to spend his life with you. His queen. The mother of his child. The owner of his heart.

Maybe he loved too quickly. Maybe he trusted too soon. But he didn't regret it. Jimin was happy. He was living the life that was planned for him since birth yet he was happy with the fate painted before him. He wanted it. He craved it.

"You're wearing it."

Jimin's voice brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up at him with a confused look, he elaborated while a chuckle escaped his lips.

"The hairpin. You are wearing it. I'm glad you like it."

You nodded at him with a small smile.

"It's really beautiful."

You weren't going to lie about that. It was truly one of the best jewellery pieces you'd ever seen. The Prince's cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, a shy smile over his lips. He stopped out of a sudden and you halted in your steps. Looking up at him with curiosity, Jimin grabbed one of your hands between his and said while his eyes were glued to your joined hands.

"I'll speak without formalities for once as this is something I need you to know not as a Prince but as your fiancé."

You nodded and he continued.

"(y/n)..."

Your name in his lips was sweet, said with such delicacy and devotion. A sweetness similar to your favourite fruit.

"... I'm so glad it is you who I am going to marry. After we get married and the coronation ceremony is completed, I want you to know that you will always be my equal as the Queen of Gyeongdong. I know we were arranged but I sincerely hope we can grow something from this.

You will always be treated fairly, I promise. And I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful fianceé."

You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips. It was a grateful smile. You knew he wouldn't force you to do anything, he would always respect you and give you your place. The Prince of the Park family was a good man with a noble soul; a gentleman who was going to become a great ruler.

"Thank you, Jimin. I really appreciate that."

He smiled. His eyes closed with the action and you couldn't help but think it was cute. He had a pretty smile, you had to admit that.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in a second. You still wore that hairpin he had given you. You liked it, he had watched you admire it and it fueled his pride as your husband.

“What are you all doing standing here? Don´t you know she could get sick with this?”

Growled the prince at a nearby royal guard who cowered at the imposing tone of the man. Jimin was seen among the palace staff as a sweet and loving personality who was made to receive and give love in each of his lifetimes. That’s why the guard felt suddenly so intimidated as the prince had never acted nor spoken in such a way.

“We are aware, Your Royal Highness. But the Princess ordered us to not interfere. She said she'll kneel until the counsellor's son is safe. There was no way of persuading her!”

Jimin cursed under his breath as his feet carried him towards you. He didn’t care about the rain, about the stares of the maids and staff, he didn’t care about anything else other than you.

You were kneeling on the cold stone floor. The palace was in front of you in all its glory but you could only care about your best friend. Why was life so complicated? When has your life tangled itself up with these kinds of problems?

Why did summer end so suddenly?

Your tears rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the pouring rain that fell from the greying skies. A chilly breeze made a shiver run up your spine but you weren’t going to leave. You weren’t going to surrender that easily so you stood firmly, ignoring the pain in your knees, ignoring the coldness in your skin. Ignoring the sadness in your heart and not minding the tears that escaped your eyes.

But suddenly, you didn’t feel the rain any longer. The chilly air didn’t attack your back any more and you had to look up to find the source of such a blessing only to be met by the profile of the Prince of the Park family, he was looking forward not seeming to mind the cold rain that was quick to drench him. His right arm extended his outer robe over you, keeping the rain from cooling you any further.

He looked down, feeling your gaze on him only to be met with your drenched figure. Your eyes were red and puffy, filled with tears. And he felt his heart clench at the sight of your pain. If he was able to take it away he would do it in a heartbeat. You didn’t deserve such a burden. Such pain.

And he made a silent promise to himself that once you both got married, he would move mountains for him to see you smile.

You deserved it, after all.

Everyone deserves happiness. Even you, the beautiful Princess everyone thought had it all but in the end, you were just lonely. Broken by the mends of society.

Jimin took a deep breath, memories of you began to flash in front of his eyes like raindrops. Unstoppable. He felt a sudden need to see you, be with you, hear your voice. So he stood up from his throne and walked out of the main hall in hopes of meeting you in one of the main corridors.

Urgency carried his steps, feeling a darkness enclose his heart in cold ice of desperation. He needed to see you. Jimin didn't know why such urgency had taken control of him but he couldn't fight it. He walked and rounded a corner, seeing you standing on the other end.

He smiled.

A window was behind you, the white gardens stood in the background as he took in the image of you. You just stood there, not even looking at him but lost in your mind. At least that was what he saw, he began to approach you.

He saw you frown and he halted in his steps for a second. But that second dictated his fate once more as he submerged in a cold river, surrounded by water of fear that froze his bones.

Your hand went up to your chest as you pressed onto it. You gasped, feeling how your heart ached within you. But this time it was worse, worse than the subtle pain you felt there every time your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and that lost future living in the land of dreams. This pain was different.

Your hand clutched the silk of your dress as you took a step forward, your other hand grabbing a table resting against the wall with a vase on it to try and find your balance once more.

You heard footsteps from your right and you turned only to see Jimin walking down to where you stood with worry on his face. Tears gathered in your eyes due to the pain.

"Jimin..."

He could barely hear his whispered name leave your lips before he saw you take a step towards him but you tumbled, hitting the table and making the vase fall and crash against the wooden floor as you collapsed before him.

He rushed to you in panic as fear wrapped around his heart. Jimin cradled you in his arms as he checked for a pulse, tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of you but he couldn't help but sigh upon noticing you were still alive.

"My darling... (y/n), open your eyes. Please..."

Yoongi was rounding the corner when he gasped at the image in front of him. He was quick to approach the desperate king with fast steps.

"Your Majesty, what happened? Is she alright?"

Jimin didn't turn to look at the slightly older man, one of his hands caressed your face delicately, as if you were a soft summer flower.

"I don't know, call the physician. I'll take her to my quarters."

Your husband felt his heart clench at the sight of you so vulnerable and weak in his hold. Captain Min bowed down at the king before he stood up and ran in the opposite direction.

Jimin picked you up in his arms, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he held you tightly against him. The scene he had just witnessed was something he'd never forget, for it had been horrible to see you in what he could guess was pain. He hated to see you like that and now, as you were being cradled in his embrace, a fire burned within him.

Flames of fear combined with fuel of anger at your state. He pressed an almost harsh kiss against your temple, murmuring in your hair words only meant for you to hear.

"Hold on, My Queen. You'll be alright. I promise."

Jimin laid next to you, supporting your body in his strong hold. The royal physician was examining you. He could feel his heart squeezing in his chest. Worry fueled his soul and fear set it aflame.

Time tickled by slowly, everything was moving too slow. Everything felt too hollow. Everything was colourless. The royal physician held her breath as she took your pulse. The room stilled. No-one dared to move, let alone breathe.

She let out a sigh and retrieved her touch from your soft skin. Jimin looked up in anxiety. Waiting, expecting, needing to know what the elderly woman had to say.

"What is it? Is she alright? Speak, woman!"

She didn't flinch at the king's desperate tone as she kept her gaze low while clasping her hands in her lap.

"Your Majesty... it's a heart disease. I think the Queen has always had it but since her rather difficult birth... it came alive, so to speak."

Jimin didn't know what to say, his soul ached at the sight of you in his arms as endless possibilities came rushing to his mind like lightning during a storm.

"Can you cure her?"

He already knew the answer to that question. A hand of his came to caress your cheek softly while tears gathered in his brown eyes that gazed lovingly down at you. He knew the answer to his own question yet your husband held onto that last sliver of hope his soul refused to let go.

"I can give her something for the pain, My King."

Was the physician's answer. Her voice delicate, words being carefully selected.

"Yes, but can you cure her?"

Her eyes met the intense gaze of the king as he turned to look at the woman dressed in a blue hanbok. A tear escaped his eye as it rolled down his cheek slowly while his heart was beating wildly in his ribcage.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

If someone had stabbed him with a thousand arrows Jimin was sure would have hurt less than those four words that left the woman's lips. He cradled you against him, pressing your limp form to him as if he could prevent the horrid fate that awaited you from taking you from his side.

"Leave. I want to be alone."

The royal physician stood up and bowed down at the broken man along with the maids and guards in the room at the whispered command of their king.

The door slid shut and silence drowned the room. He was left alone with you but this wasn't a joyous moment. Jimin lied you down on the bedding beneath you as tears rolled down his cheeks. His hand held yours with a delicate touch as his eyes roamed over your figure.

"You cannot leave me, (y/n). You can't. You belong here, with me, with Ha-joon. You cannot leave me alone."

But those words didn't reach your ears. You didn't hear his begging, his pleading. And he only held you tighter. Wishing that this was just a sick nightmare of his.

"Please... Queen of my heart. Do not leave us behind."

One of Jimin's hands fisted the soft fabric of your dress, needing to ground his thoughts, to be in the present and stop his mind from picturing all the horrible scenarios in his head.

"Do not abandon me in a world without you by my side."

Fate was cruel. Jimin loved you but now you were going to be robbed from him. He didn't know when, he didn't know how much time he had left with you, he didn't know how much pain you'd have to endure. He didn't know he'd have so little time next to you and that fact pained him beyond words.

"I need you, Queen of mine. I love you."

Words weren't enough to change fate. He knew it. He knew everything yet he still tried. He pleaded to the heavens to not take you, to not rob you in such a cruel way.

"I love you, (y/n)."

But love wasn't enough to save you from death. Love wasn't strong enough to keep you next to your husband. To watch your son grow into a fine prince that would rule the kingdom one day. Love wasn't enough. It had never been.

Jimin knew that but he still cried. He still pleaded, he still hoped.

Snow fell wildly outside, the wind could be heard when you opened your eyes and found yourself in Jimin's room, rather than your own. You had been resting in his bedroom for some days now, not really sure how many.

Hoseok was by your side the next second as he helped you sit up, he didn't speak a word and your heart shook within you at the sight of your distressed friend. You watched as he prepared your medicine, silence fell into the room as the candles flickered in the middle of the night.

"Please take your medicine, My Queen."

He spoke, holding the spook with the tonic you had been taking for so long, it seemed.

"Don't make me take it again, Hobi. It's too sour."

He sighed, eyes lowering onto his lap but still holding out the spoon to you.

"Please, Your Majesty. It'll help you get better."

You took a deep breath as you leaned forward and opened your mouth, taking the medicine like your friend wanted you too. Even when you shut your eyes shut and scrunched your nose at the taste, you managed to swallow it.

"I won't get better, Hobi. You know it too."

You weren't a stranger to your disease, Jimin told you himself about your predicament. You remember how your heart broke at the sight of his distress, his eyes were red and puffy, shining with new tears that he refused to let go. His hands shook as they held yours.

Hoseok sighed and the soft noise brought you out of your thoughts. He put the spoon and bottle aside as his eyes locked with your own and you were able to see the sorrow in his usually cheerful gaze.

"I know. I'm sorry, My Queen."

Your hand rested atop his as a soft yet sad smile was painted over your lips.

"Don't apologise. Don't be sad. Don't cry. Why don't you bring me some fish-shaped pastries and you tell me what Ha-joon did today?"

He nodded with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before standing up without saying a word. Hoseok walked down the corridors back to the king's chamber where you were resting with a round container in his hands where the pastries rested. He couldn't help but let his mind wander back to those summer days when you were still a princess and your worries revolved around what silk to choose for your next dress.

He wanted to go back to those golden days when the sun shone brightly and warmth filled the palace.

"Princess!"

You turned around at the sound of the voice of one of your closest people in the palace. The royal counsellor's son and a dear friend of yours, Jung Hoseok.

When he arrived next to you a smile was painted over his lips, he bowed down at you making you frown a bit.

"Stop it, I've told you many times before that you don't have to bow in front of me."

He chuckled, his hands behind his back as he straightened back up.

"Yes, I have. There are so many guards and court ladies that could see and that wouldn't be good for me, princess."

You sighed at his answer. He had said it time and time again but you just wanted to have a normal friendship, was that too much to ask? Maybe it was. At least for now.

"I'm sorry, you are right. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me."

Hoseok smiled and that made a small smile paint over your own lips. That was a power only he had, he would smile and it would make you smile too.

"It's alright, I can be sneaky when I want. Especially to the kitchen. They never knew when I was there."

That made you let out a snort before laughing completely. Forgetting about proper manners or who could be watching you at that moment, you just lived that fragment of time. Enjoy it how it should be enjoyed.

"Speaking of..."

He continued, bringing his hands in front of him only for you to notice the small package covered with white fabric. You smiled widely at him.

"...I managed to sneak out some fish-shaped pastries."

You let out a squeal while Hoseok unwrapped the package and opened the lid for you to see he had bought your favourite dessert.

"Thank you, Hobi! I've been craving this since last week!"

With that, you took one and immediately began eating it, savouring the sweet flavour inside your mouth as you closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why didn't you just order for the maids to bring some pastries to your room, your highness?"

You sighed, swallowing the sweet treat only for then to say, your joyous face turning slightly sombre when the bubble of happiness was suddenly popped with reality.

"I am not allowed to eat anything like this, at least not until my wedding day. King's orders."

Hoseok's eyes widened in surprise at your words. Panic flared through his features as he came to the sudden realisation that he was disobeying the king's direct order. He looked around frantically, searching for people nearby that had witnessed him giving you the pastries while you continued to munch on another bite of the sweet treat.

The next thing he did, however, made your eyes widen as the remainder of the fish-shaped sweet was taken from your hand rather abruptly only for Hoseok to throw it in his mouth at the end. It all happened too fast you were left staring at your best with a dumbfounded face.

"Yah! Why did you d-"

You cut your sentence when you spotted one of the court ladies followed by a group of maids appearing in your peripheral vision. You quickly straightened your back while Hoseok hid the package he was holding behind his back, swallowing the remains of the pastry he took from your hands.

The court lady bowed when she stood in front of you, the other maids mirroring her actions. When she stood back up, she said, her voice cold and her attitude as strict as always.

"My Lady, His Majesty; The King, has requested your presence at the main hall."

You curtsided softly, a soft smile on your face.

"Thank you, I shall go there immediately."

And with that, you turned around and began walking along the large gardens with Hobi following you at a proper distance. When you rounded a corner and were out of the court lady's sight, you sighed. Hoseok caught up to you and you smiled at him.

"Thanks, Hobi."

Those whispered words made him smile, he looked back before saying.

"I should probably go back, I'll see you later, princess."

You nodded at him with a soft smile over your beautiful features and he bowed slightly at you only for then to fast-walk to the opposite direction from where you stood. You were left alone again and took a deep breath before you continued on your way to the throne room where your presence was requested.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in an instant. His heart filled with melancholy at the lost memory in the past before he slid open the bedroom door and found you asleep on the bedding.

Hoseok sighed, putting the pastries aside as he went to blow away some of the candles to let you sleep peacefully.

If only he could take away your pain, your disease, he would. For he remembered how you saved him from death when he was falsely accused of treason, he remembered your desperation. Hoseok was your best and only friend in the palace and he only wished he could repay the favour of saving his life with now saving your own, even if he knew that was not possible.

"The Queen hasn't left the King's chambers for a while."

"I wonder if she's alright."

"I've seen the royal physician go in and out a couple of times."

Jungkook had heard this and more rumours around the palace. He wasn't going to lie, he was worried about you. He hasn't seen you since that day when he was playing with the little prince in the white gardens.

Maybe she's pregnant again.

That was his main thought and final conclusion. Not wanting to ponder on the idea that much to save himself the heartache. He entered the guard's palace, going straight to his room. Dusk had already settled and the night was cold.

"Yah! Jungkook! Do you know what happened to Her Majesty?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, seeing a bunch of younger guards eating some ramen in the corner of the common hall.

"What do you mean?"

He asked. A frown adorning his handsome features. One of the guards stood up from the small table and walked over to Jungkook.

"Do you know why the Queen has not been seen around anymore? Rumours said she is pregnant again."

Jungkook looked past him at the bundle of men gathered in silence to listen to what he had to say.

"Why would I know? I've been taking care of His Highness as of lately."

The man in front of him scoffed, looking back at his peers before glancing back at Jungkook.

"Aren't you the Queen's royal guard? Shouldn't you be with her at all times?"

Jungkook sighed, feeling his patience leave his body quickly. He turned around, waving a hand to the man who wished to pester him with his questions.

"I don't have time for this."

"Why? Are you the prince's babysitter now?"

Jungkook closed his eyes, wanting to disappear from that exact second.

"What's going on here?"

Captain Min's voice boomed around the common room, making everyone go silent, even the men who were only watching and snickering in the corners.

"Nothing, Captain."

"Nothing."

Jungkook and the man in front of him answered at the same time. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Go back to your table, Kwon. Jeon, come with me."

The latter nodded, sending a final glare to the man whose surname was now to his knowledge. Yoongi dragged Jungkook to another room with more privacy. He turned around, eyes softening at the sight of his friend.

"What is it?"

Yoongi's question was delicate, a soft tone only certain people had heard of the stoic man.

"I haven't seen her in days, Yoongi. I don't know what is going on and it's killing me on the inside."

The older man let out a sigh, pondering if he should tell Jungkook about your condition or if that information would only stress him further.

"You know, don't you?"

Yoongi looked up only to meet Jungkook's big and sad eyes.

"Yes. But I do not know if you should be aware of her situation or if it will cause you more harm."

Jungkook's heart constricted in his chest with those words. A part of him didn't want to know. He didn't want to risk the heartache, so many possibilities swarmed his head that it made him dizzy.

"Tell me. Please."

He whispered and Yoongi sighed once more. He knew of Jungkook's innocent yet strong feelings for you and he'd hate to break his precious heart but his wish was his right.

"She's sick, Jungkook. The physician examined her a couple of days ago and she said the Queen was born with a weak heart and her long labour worsened her condition. She said there was no cure."

A tear escaped his eye slowly, his heart ached deep within him at the information. You were sick? If you had had it since birth, why weren't you more careful? But all those thoughts did nothing to alleviate his pain.

"I'm sorry, Kook."

Said Yoongi with a heavy voice. In sympathy for his friend for he knew this kind of pain. He was no stranger to heartache. He understood.

"Would you like me to stay or do you want to be alone?"

"I want to be alone, hyung."

His response was empty. Colourless. Cold. Yoongi nodded without saying another word. He quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Jungkook closed his eyes as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He took it all in. The pain. The heartache. The distress. The despair. He welcomed it all and allowed himself to cry in his solitude as snow fell from the sky on a cold winter night with no apparent morning sun to warm his soul.

A couple of days later you were still in Jimin's room. Hoseok was playing with Ha-joon as you watched them fondly. You didn't have the energy to stand anymore. The disease was deteriorating you, killing you. A part of you believed it was due to the heartache you had gone through that now you were being punished with a heart disease.

How ironic, isn't it?"

Ha-joon laughed, distracting you from your sombre thoughts. You looked at your son, watching as he laughed and enjoyed his time. The little prince hadn't seen you for weeks since you fell sick and he missed you immensely.

"My prince, come here."

You spoke, opening your arms for the little boy. His eyes lit up as he left his toys on the ground and ran towards you. The impact of his little body against yours was enough to leave you breathless.

Hoseok watched as you embraced your son with pain, as if he were to leave and you didn't want to let go.

"I love you so much, you know that, right?"

Ha-joon nodded in your chest before he gazed up at you with a cute smile. You smiled as well, trying to blink the tears that began to moisture your eyes.

"You'll be a worthy Crown Prince one day and the most respected king of Gyeongdong when you grow up. I love you so much, my little prince."

"Mummy..."

Ha-joon put his little hand on your cheeks, lovingly gazing into your eyes as your heart broke into a million pieces realising you weren't going to see him grow and become a great man. Your time in this place was slipping through your fingers like water in your hands.

"I love you too, mummy."

You hugged Ha-joon as your eyes met with Hoseok's sad gaze. He offered you a smile and you did your best to return the gesture, even when your heart was aching, from the disease or from your own pain you couldn't tell anymore.

It had always been a similar pain.

Always there, always cold. Always present in your life.

That night was cold. Hoseok had taken Ha-joon to his own room and verified he was sleeping before returning to tend to you. Jimin hadn't arrived yet as he was busy tending to some ministers and political matters you were no longer aware of.

"The prince fell asleep quickly, Your Majesty. I left Eun-ah to watch him during the night."

You nodded with a smile. Feeling your eyes drop with tiredness. You were already settled for the night, ready to close your eyes and sleep even when your exhaustion wouldn't leave your body.

"Thank you, Hobi. You should go and rest too, you look tired."

For he did. His skin was paler than usual and bags rested under his eyes. You could see it and it pained you to see your best friend so tired and sad all the time.

But he shook his head, a melancholic feeling swam in his warm eyes as he looked at you.

"I would like to wait until His Majesty is with you, My Queen. I do not wish for you to be alone."

Your hand rested over his and he turned to look at you meeting your eyes filled with tears.

"Hobi... what would I do without you?"

He only smiled, not saying a word. Not wanting to break the soft moment so you continued.

"Thank you for being my friend all these years. Thank you for always being by my side and for giving me your friendship."

A tear left his eye and rolled down his honeyed skin at your words. Realising that this was your goodbye to him.

"Please take care of Ha-joon for me. He is really fond of you, Hobi."

He nodded, feeling how his emotions choked him. It pained him to even think of you leaving his side. You, his best friend. His only companion, his princess since childhood.

"I promise, sweet Queen of mine."

You smiled at his whispered promise, squeezing his hand softly. The door slipped open and entered your husband. Hoseok let go of your hand as he stood up in a swift movement. He bowed down at the king before he left the bedroom in silence.

"How are you feeling, Queen of my heart?"

Jimin asked as he knelt in front of you. You smiled. Feeling how your heart ached in the cage that was your body.

"I'm fine, my King."

He knew you were lying. He knew your words weren't true to your reality. He knew it all. He knew you. But he chose to not mind your lies for he didn't know how much time he'd be gifted by your side. He smiled, allowing his hand to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you with pure adoration in his dark eyes.

"Say it. Let me hear my name on your lips. Grant me that wish, grant me that honour."

You swallowed, knowing how much your condition was killing your sweet husband from the inside.

"King of my existence. My Jimin. My sweet husband."

He smiled sadly. His hand left your cheek and took your hand instead, feeling how you gripped weakly onto it.

"I love you, (y/n)."

You could only smile fondly at his declaration of love. His eyes twinkled at your reaction.

"Do you also share my sentiment?"

He asked almost shyly, looking down at his hand that covered yours.

"Of course. How couldn't I?"

Jimin's eyes met yours as he smiled. His gesture was priceless for your words of affirmation was the only thing he cherished to hear, the only melody he wished to always remember and a verse of a poem that would never end.

"Didn't you have an important meeting with some ministers?"

Your voice broke the silence that hung in the room. You sat facing a large mirror, staring at your own reflection while Jimin was behind you brushing your hair with a golden comb. Your back rested against his chest, your hair rested over your shoulder as he brushed it with delicacy.

"I have more important things to attend to right now. Do not bother yourself with such thoughts, Queen of my heart."

You blushed softly at his words, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. It wasn't snowing outside but the room was cold, shivers ran through your body from time to time despite the closeness of your husband and the many blankets around you two.

"Jimin, can you promise me something?"

He didn't allow the frown that threatened to appear between his brows mark his soft features. He nodded, eyes searching your own through the mirror despite you having your gaze down.

"I'd give you the moon and stars in a golden tray if they were mine to possess in the first place."

You smiled softly, hating to break his heart with your next words. Hating your own fate and feeling your heart constrict within you at the mere thought of his pain the next moment you were to speak.

“Please don’t lose your smile after I’m gone.”

His eyes lost their spark. The softness in his features disappeared like a burning flame splashed with the water of reality. Your hand grabbed his and at his silence, you continued.

“Tell Ha-joon that his mother loved him so much.”

Tears gathered in your husband’s eyes, his mind realising this was your goodbye to him but his heart refused to believe his time with you was this short. He didn’t accept that he’d have to let go this sudden.

“And live every day as if it's your last.”

The crystalline pearls of sadness rolled down his cheeks, his hands squeezed yours as his eyes locked with your own.

“I’ll find you in my next lifetime, Queen of my heart.”

Jimin brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. As if wanting to seal his love with that small gesture.

“Thank you, Jimin. For your love and your respect. Don’t lose your spark, don’t cry those precious tears and allow your heart to heal if I broke it without wanting to. Forgive me.”

He sobbed, not wanting to let go of your hand as if that could prevent you from leaving his side. The sound of his sobs and cries shattered your heart and tears of your own began leaking down your cheeks in silence while you witnessed him mourn your fate.

"There's nothing to forgive. I could never be mad at you, not even if you were to kill me with your own hands."

His hands pressed you against him. Needing to feel you close to him. Needing this moment, this memory to be engraved in mis mind and soul so that he could seek solace in it when his heart cried in the darkness.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against your husband who cried his heart out, whose world was going to be taken away from him. You mourned his sadness while your heart broke at the thought of leaving your little family behind. Leaving your life, your love in a cruel world.

The apple of my eyes.

Woman of my heart.

Enchantress of love.

Mistress of my soul.

The days are longer.

I miss you. I need you.

My love gets stronger.

I cry over my solitude.

Did we ever have a chance?

Do I deserve the happiness you bring to this world?

Am I worthy of your hand?

Am I enough to a jewel like you?

Do I deserve your devotion?

Is it cruel of me to want you?

Ever so fiercely. So fully.

My darling. My Queen. My lover. My everything.

Live in my heart forever.

Stick in my mind to eternity.

Don't leave this man to suffer with your absence.

Don't leave me to burn in my own ashes.

A sudden knock on his door made Jungkook break out of his trance, he put the brush down and stood up as the door slid open and he was met with Hoseok. His eyes were casted down, not meeting the soft gaze of the royal guard.

“Jungkook, the Queen requests your presence in His Majesty’s chambers.”

The younger man’s heart sped up at the thought of seeing you. He hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of you since that day in the gardens. His soul was desperate to see you, his heart screamed at him to go and search for you. It was torture, to separate two lovers, that is.

Jungkook nodded, not missing the way Hoseok’s demeanour was different. He looked sad, worried. Cold. He wished he could ask him what was wrong but feared he’d be overstepping a line with the slightly older male who was a dear friend of yours.

"Thank you, I'll go there immediately."

Hoseok nodded with a soft movement before he stepped out of the room. Jungkook sighed, arranging his papers correctly before heading out the door.

His feet carried him along the large and cold corridors of the palace. His heart was in his throat as nerves bubbled in his stomach.

Jungkook was a brave soldier. He has fought many battles as scars adorned his body. He has been on the verge of death several times before but ironically, right now was when he felt more nervous than when he was holding a sword in his hand.

He took a deep breath, standing in front of the King's chambers. He hesitated for a second, not knowing what he'd hear from your lips at the other side of that door. He didn't know how he would react after not having seen you in so many days he has already lost count of.

He knocked only to hear your command for him to come in. Your voice was soft, weak even. But that didn't matter when butterflies erupted in his stomach at the mere sweet sound of your voice.

Jungkook entered the room the next second, he slid the door closed behind him while he kept his eyes trained on the dark wood below his feet.

"Jungkook."

His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.

"Your Majesty."

He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence.

"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."

Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.

“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”

Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands.

“It is.”

He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness.

“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”

He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own.

“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being.

“Forgive me.”

He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind.

“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”

A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.

“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”

Both of his hands squeezed your own, feeling your grip on them weaken by the second. What kind of punishment is this? To love you so fiercely, so wholeheartedly only to be snatched from him like this? What did he do in his past life to deserve such pain, such misfortune, such punishment?

Is love a crime?

“You still wear it, huh?”

He asked, sniffling softly while his eyes locked with the small red braided bracelet he had given you that autumn day. When life was kinder. When it wasn’t as cold as winter. When he still held hope for happiness. When life was simpler...

“I never took it off.”

You whispered, smiling up at him as your eyes traced his features.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, not being able to stop them any longer. He smiled through his tears, needing to say the words back to you.

“And I love you, (y/n). I’ll love you in every lifetime, in every form, in any timeline. I will always love you.”

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left in your body.

“You’ve said it. Thank you.”

He smiled down at you. Remembering how you once pleaded to him to speak your name, to hear it come from his lips. He could no longer deny you such pleasure. He wished he had said it that time.

“I’ll see you again. I’ll see you in my next lifetime.”

Jungkook nodded, taking a deep breath while not being able to look away from you. He wouldn’t dare to.

“I’ll find you. I promise.”

You smiled. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes closed as you relished on the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“I love you, my Queen.”

That was the last thing you heard before darkness fully enveloped you. The smile from your lips disappeared as your hand fell limp in Jungkook’s grasp. He sobbed, pressing your hand against his cheek only to feel your skin already cooling down. His other hand caressed your cheek with delicacy, his lips trembled and his tears couldn’t stop from leaving his waterline.

A pain in his chest settled forever. Dying would have been more merciful than living like this. Jungkook lived in an eternal winter. The coldness was taking everything from him. Freezing his heart, leaving his memories covered with frost. Everything was cold. Your hand, his heart, his life. Everything was cold. That was the only thing he could feel. Only the coldness of his reality was covered in a deep and thick layer of white snow; the colour of sorrow. The colour of nothing.

All in an eternal winter of pain with no spring in sight. His hopes died with you, he had died with you. Only his heart was still beating. But death had claimed him as well, cursed him with the coldness of sorrow and a lost love for eternity.

The funeral was held three days later. Ministers and people from the village were all mourning their Queen. They all dressed in white robes, standing in the large palace gardens as they knelt on the cold ground.

The king walked in the middle of the golden path with Ha-joon by his side. His small hand in his own as the both of them walked toward where your casket was. Some of the people were crying, others were praying as they all shared the king’s sorrow.

Hoseok, Yoongi, Jungkook and your father were guarding your casket, waiting for your husband to arrive and complete the ceremony. Their hearts were heavy, the skies were grey as little snowflakes fell down from the thick clouds.

Ha-joon ran to where Hoseok stood, burning his face in his robes as he began to cry silently. Jimin’s heart clenched at the sight of his son mourning the death of his mother. He placed a red rose in between your hands, accommodating your red bracelet on your wrist. He had seen you wear it everyday so it should stay with you in your final resting place. He turned to look at the people, his face cold, missing your warmth next to him. He could no longer cry, his tears were gone only leaving a deep hole in his heart.

“Let’s give the Queen the goodbye she deserves.”

Jimin spoke to his people who all rose to their feet. Yoongi and Jungkook along with two more guards began carrying your casket made of crystal with golden details down the palace entrance. A tear rolled down Jungkook’s cheek when he spotted the bracelet he made for you still attached to your wrist.

The king was walking in front of them while Hoseok walked with Ha-joon behind them. The slightly older man was crying silently while holding your son’s hand in his.

“I miss mummy.”

Jungkook closed his eyes at the prince’s words. Hoseok sighed and picked the child up in his arms, hugging him to his chest while continuing to walk down the frozen path.

“We all do, my prince. We all do.”

That night, Jimin found solace in the darkness of his room. He sighed at the empty feeling of the place he once shared with you. Ha-joon was sleeping in his bedding, neither of them wanting to be alone after your passing. A lone tear left his eyes, rolling down his cheek slowly.

He looked to where Ha-joon was sleeping soundly and let out a deep sigh. Jimin knew facing this new reality was going to be tough for him as a husband who lost his wife and for Ha-joon who lost his mother while the kingdom lost their Queen.

He felt his heart freeze with the remnants of your love. No other woman would ever be in your place while he lived. No other woman would ever sit next to him in the throne and Ha-joon won’t call another woman “mother”. He couldn’t betray you like that. He couldn’t discard his love for you that easily.

Winter settled in his heart, frost covered his heart and memories. There were no more summer days and spring was never going to arrive in Jimin. For he was also cursed by the coldness of sorrow forever.

The moon rose high in the sky that night, being the only source of light for Jungkook as he left the palace grounds in silence. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He was going to leave that place of golden memories for they were now shattered in fragments of ice. You were no longer there to warm his days in the palace. You were no longer there to smile at him from a distance. Your absence killed him. Froze him.

His footsteps got covered by the snow falling from the skies, his silhouette was soon lost to the eye as he walked among the snow and the darkness of the night.

I’ll find you, I promise.

His own words resonated in his mind. With each step he took, he felt how another layer of ice covered his heart. No other woman would ever enter his heart for he was sealing it with the chains of his sorrow.

No-one ever saw Jungkook after that night. Some people said he went to a little village to live between his solitude and his poems. Others said he married a woman with great semblance to the late Queen. Others said he died, either by his own hand or by a heart disease.

No-one exactly knew what happened to First Officer Jeon Jungkook after the Queen’s funeral. Not even Yoongi, who found his friend’s room empty the next morning. Everything was placed neatly and only a single sheet of paper laid on his wooden desk with a poem written on it.

Yoongi folded the paper and put it in his pocket, feeling loneliness creep up into his heart at Jungkook’s leaving. Yet his friend’s heartache was stronger, he had to leave and Yoongi understood. He knew he’d never see Jungkook again so he could only wish him luck in whatever he may venture in next. His love poem was kept in his possession for all his life. Reading it from time to time and feeling Jungkook’s pain through the only thing he left behind, his words. His heart poured out on a sheet of paper.

You have poisoned me with your love.

Like a drug.

An addiction only you can control.

And now you are gone, taking my life with your own.

I am dead in ever sense of the word,

yet my heart still beats inside me.

What kind of punishment is this?

I prefer a thousand times to die by your hand than to live a life without you by my side.

You exist now only in my memories.

My most precious treasure.

My love will be known through centuries;

because meeting you was my biggest pleasure.

Queen of mine,

wait for me in your next life.

Maybe you had left this world

but you still live in my heart.

Forever shall I remember you,

may this letter be a proof of my devotion to you.

Sultana of my mind.

Owner of my heart.

Lover of mine.

October/28/2023

~Masterpost

**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages.

46 notes · View notes