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ysobelfours · 3 days

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Lando's First Win — LN4

in which your boyfriend won a grand prix for the first time in his career.

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ content !! MINORS DNI !! half of the story is SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), clubbing, drunk lando, praise, hair pulling, oral both receiving, and etc. word count: 3978

note: not proofread, not edited, will maybe; also, this oneshot has no mentions of y/n!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i was glued to the tv, watching the race like my life depended on it. man, i wish i could've been there in person, but nope, some last-minute work drama had me stuck at home. so there i was, heart pounding like crazy as i saw lando leading the pack, holding onto that sweet p1 spot with just 10 laps to go.

after a nail-biting ten laps, lando clinched his first-ever grand prix win in miami, crossing the checkered flag with style. bursting with excitement, i immediately sent him a message to offer my heartfelt congratulations. and of course, i had to capture the historic moment, snapping a quick pic of his finish on my tv screen and sharing it with the world on my instagram story.

amidst the interviews, podium celebrations, and photo ops with the mclaren team, lando's mind kept drifting back to one thing: my message. he couldn't shake the anticipation of reading my words of support, knowing that even though i couldn't be there in person, i was cheering him on from afar.

finally, as the chaotic whirlwind of post-race activities began to settle, lando seized the opportunity to check his phone. with a quick swipe, he navigated to his messages, looking for my name. his heart skipped a beat when he saw my name.

"hey baby! can't believe it, i did it!" lando greeted me as soon as i picked up his call. i could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice.

"oh my gosh, lan, i knew you could do it! you were incredible out there!" i excitedly responded to him.

"thanks, baby! it feels unreal. i'm just so pumped right now!"

"you should be! you deserve to celebrate this big win. any plans?"

lando pauses, thinking "hmm, not really, just thinking of winding down, you know?"

i frowned upon hearing his response, how could he not celebrate his first win properly?!

“absolutely not! you were on fire out there! you know what? you've got to celebrate this win properly." i rolled my eyes as the words came out of my mouth.

lando laughs, "yeah, baby? you think? got any suggestions?" he asks eagerly.

i started to think and an idea popped up in my gorgeous, genius mind! fortunately, i was done with the work assigned to me.

"hmm, how about a little victory party at the club? you deserve to let loose and enjoy the moment, along with the grid, ya know?!" i giggled, hoping that he would agree so i could push through with my plan.

lando considers it, "you might be right, sweetheart. but i'm not sure…" he sounded sarcastic on the other line, probably just to tease me. i sighed and rolled my eyes, again.

"come on, lan! you've worked so hard for this. make some memories! trust me, you won't regret it." i demanded, hoping that he would agree now.

lando was obviously smiling "alright, you've convinced me! let's do it!"

"that's the spirit! now go have some fun, and i'll catch up with you later, lan, okay?":

“sounds like a plan! love you, baby!”

"love you too! enjoy the celebration!"

as lando hangs up, little does he know that i've already booked a two hour long flight to miami along with a suite, determined to surprise him and celebrate his victory in person. with a mischievous grin, i start packing my bags, thrilled at the thought of seeing the look of surprise on his face when i show up unannounced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

inside club velocity, the atmosphere pulsed with energy as lando, surrounded by his fellow drivers, basked in the euphoria of his first grand prix victory. the music thumped, mingling with the cheers and laughter of the crowd as they toasted to his success.

lando, wearing a grin that could light up the night sky, raised his glass in a toast, his eyes sparkling with joy and gratitude. around him, his friends and teammates clapped him on the back, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations.

as the night wore on, the celebration only grew more spirited, with lando at the center of it all, soaking in every moment of his well-deserved triumph. little did he know, an even greater surprise awaited him, one that would make this unforgettable night even more memorable.

as soon as i finished getting ready, i messaged carlos to ask him which club they’re at.

me: "hey carlos! hope you guys are having a blast celebrating lando's win! which club are you all at?"

carlos: "hey! yeah, it's wild here! we're at club velocity on south beach. you should come join us!"

me: "awesome, thanks! see you there!" with carlos's reply in hand, i quickly went inside my rented vehicle, my heart pounding with excitement at the thought of surprising lando and joining in the celebration of his first grand prix victory.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i got to the club as quickly as possible. still making sure that i wore my signature carol h. good girl scent.

as i approached lando, i noticed his glazed eyes scanning the crowd, seemingly lost in a haze of alcohol. but then, something shifted. his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his expression softened, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and a spark of recognition ignited in his eyes. "wait… i know that scent," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

a smile spread across my face as i watched him, knowing exactly what he was sensing. then, in an instant, his face lit up with realization, and he turned towards me with newfound clarity.

"it's you, baby! it’s you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight as he lunged forward to envelop me in a warm embrace.

relieved and touched by his recognition, i hugged him back, feeling the tension melt away as he held me close. it was a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos of the club, a reminder of the bond we shared.

as we pulled apart, lando's grin was infectious, his eyes bright with happiness. "i can't believe you're here, baby, you’re really here" he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and gratitude.

i chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "wouldn't miss celebrating with you, lan. even if you're a little… tipsy."

lando laughed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "yeah, maybe i went a bit overboard."

"seriously though, you're swaying more than the palm trees outside and your words are starting to sound like a foreign language. i think it's time we got you home, don't you?"

lando slowly nods sheepishly "yeah, you're probably right. i guess i got caught up in the moment." he giggled and pinched my cheek.

“i missed you so much, baby. i love you” he whispered in my ear, lightly biting it. i couldn't help my cheeks from turning hot after what he said.

i struggled to make up my words before i responded, “i missed you too, lan. i love you.” i gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his curly hair. he smiled at me, a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

“let’s get you some rest, lan. say goodbye to the grid.” i guided lando to stand up, his hand wrapped around my waist to help him navigate his way through the crowd.

“hey guys, i just wanted to say a huge thank you for being here tonight to celebrate with lando. it means the world to him, and to me."

"of course! lando's victory is something we all wanted to celebrate together!" carlos smiled and gave lando a pat on the back.

"absolutely, it's been an amazing night. but right now, my love needs some rest. take care, everyone!"

as we exchanged farewells and well-wishes, i couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of lando's friends. with smiles and nods all around, lando quickly waved goodbye and thanked his fellow drivers.

as we navigated out the club, lando's whispers filled the air, his words a mixture of adoration and drunken rambling. "you're so beautiful, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "and i've missed you so much."

i chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over me. "i've missed you too, lan. but let's save the sweet talk for when you're a bit more sober, alright?"

lando nodded earnestly, his gaze locking with mine. "yeah, you're right, baby. but seriously, your smell… it's intoxicating. i can't get enough of it."

grinning, i squeezed his hand gently. "thanks, love. i'll take that as a compliment, even if it's coming from a slightly intoxicated mind."

with a sheepish grin, lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "i mean it, though, my love. you always smell like home to me."

as i opened the door to the shotgun seat, lando stumbled slightly as he climbed in, his movements slowed by the alcohol. with a patient smile, i guided him into the seat, making sure he was settled before reaching for his seatbelt.

as i leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, lando took advantage of the close proximity and planted a quick, sneaky kiss on my neck. the unexpected gesture sent a tingling sensation through me, but i brushed it off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"behave yourself, lan," i teased, my tone lighthearted as i finished securing his seatbelt.

with a mischievous grin, lando giggled and leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. i closed the door with a soft chuckle, taking a moment to compose myself before heading around to the driver's side.

as i settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, i couldn't help but smile at the lingering warmth of lando's kiss against my neck. but with a shake of my head, i focused on the road ahead, determined to get us back to our hotel safely.

as lando drifted off to sleep beside me, his face softened into a peaceful expression. i couldn't help but admire him at that moment. here was a guy who'd poured his heart and soul into his passion, and tonight, it had paid off big time.

i thought back on all the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into his career, the late nights at the track, the tough races, and the moments of doubt. but through it all, he'd never given up.

now, as he slept, i saw a sense of calm wash over him, like he'd finally achieved what he'd been working towards all this time. it was a pretty amazing feeling to witness.

at that moment, i realized how lucky i was to share this journey with him. and as i stole glances at him sleeping, i couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for everything he'd accomplished.

as i shook lando awake, his sleepy voice sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "hey, love. did we make it to the hotel already?"

i managed a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. "yeah, we're here, sleepyhead," i replied softly, guiding him out of the car.

lando leaned heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulder. it was a struggle to help him towards the elevator, his weight making each step a challenge.

"you're amazing, baby" lando slurred, his words sincere but slightly garbled.

i chuckled, feeling both amused and touched by his compliment. "just doing my best, lan" i replied modestly, navigating us through the lobby.

lando's closeness sent a flutter through me, his arm around my neck, dangling through my breasts as we walked made me feel the way i felt earlier when he kissed me on the neck.

as we reached the suite, i gently guided lando towards the bed, urging him to lie down and get some rest. but to my surprise, he resisted, his eyes pleading as he reached out to me.

"i don't want to sleep yet, baby" he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i've missed you so much."

my heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. despite his drunken state, there was an intensity in his gaze that left me breathless.

"i've missed you too, lan," i whispered, my voice barely above a hush as i met his gaze.

“c’mere, beautiful” lando patted the space next to him in the bed, asking me to sit down beside him.

there was a charged silence between us, the air thick with unspoken desires and yearning. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us in the dimly lit room.

and then, almost as if on instinct, lando's hand reached out to cup my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. the intensity of his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer until our lips were mere inches apart.

without a word, our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent expression of all the emotions that had been building between us. it was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent promise of what was to come.

"so beautiful, my love," lando mumbled in between our kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "you don't know how long i've waited for this."

his words sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us for far too long. with each touch of his lips against mine, i felt myself melting into him, consumed by the heat of our passion.

our kisses deepened, each one more fervent than the last, as if we were trying to convey all the pent-up longing and desire that had been simmering between us for so long. "tastes like heaven, baby" lando murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"i've missed this so much, lan" i confessed, my breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns along my skin.

lando paused, his touch gentle yet charged with an electric intensity. "i've missed this just as much, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "more than words can say."

his hands roamed over to my wet panties that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment. "you're so beautiful, and wet for me, baby" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he started to play with my clit.

i arched into his touch, wordlessly urging him closer, craving the delicious friction of our bodies melding together. "don't stop," i pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

two of his fingers slipped inside me, and i found myself clutching his hair. “don’t stop, lan. more, please,” i urged, my voice tinged with urgency and longing. and, as always, he delivered without hesitation.

“so wet for me, and only for me, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his tone raw with desire, igniting a primal spark within me.

lando's eyes darkened with hunger as he drew nearer, his breath a tantalizing caress against my ear. "you're mine," he whispered, possessiveness lacing his words, sparking a thrill of excitement in my chest. "all mine."

a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his words, a silent agreement to the intensity of our connection. "yes, lan," i responded softly, the words barely escaping my lips, "only yours."

with a shared understanding, he guided me onto his waiting mouth, each movement charged with unspoken longing.

“want to taste you so bad, baby,” he growled softly, his breath warm against my skin as his tongue danced with mine, exploring every curve and crevice with eager reverence.

“tastes damn good, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice a husky murmur of appreciation as he savored the intimacy of the moment.

with every lick, i felt myself edging closer to the end, our bodies moving in sync, a symphony of pleasure and desire. he quickened the pace, driving me towards the edge until i was teetering on the brink, my senses ablaze with sensation.

"fuck, lan. i’m so fucking close," i moaned, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea for release.

i hit my breaking point, just lost in the moment, riding that wave of pure pleasure, my voice echoing in the silence of the room.

as i caught my breath, i gazed at lando with a sense of wonder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the connection we shared.

“c’mere, pretty. take my pants off for me, will ya?” he said, his voice tinged with anticipation. and without hesitation, i obliged, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given me.

as i removed his pants, his eyes locked onto me, filled with unmistakable desire. when he pulled out his length from his boxers, i was taken aback; it seemed even bigger than before.

lando noticed my gulp as i stared at him, clearly turned on by my reaction.

without warning, he guided himself into my mouth, gently gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he directed my movements.

"i missed this fucking mouth," lando grunted, his hand instinctively moving my head forward and backward until his length reached my throat.

“ah, fuck, baby, your mouth feels incredible,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as he savored the sensations. releasing his grip on my head, he allowed me full control.

i licked the tip of his shaft teasingly, before gradually taking him deeper until i reached his base. “you're so fucking beautiful like this, love. such a good girl, taking me fully” he struggled to praise, his words punctuated by moans of pleasure.

each sound he made spurred me on, igniting a deeper desire within me. with passion driving me, i gave him my all, the rhythm of my mouth against his cock filling the room.

“so good with your mouth like this, love. fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he thrust his hips, his movements growing more urgent.

“baby, i’m about to cum,” he warned between moans. i yearned for him to finish so we could move on to the next stage; my anticipation palpable.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re so fucking good at this, my love,” he smiled appreciatively as i swallowed, clearly impressed and aroused by my eagerness.

turning me around, he instructed, “on your knees, my love.”

"lando," i breathed, my voice a mix of warning and longing, almost on the edge of a whine. my legs remained spread as i faced away from him, fighting the urge to squirm, my patience wearing thin.

lando's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his hands pushed my legs further apart, positioning himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"you look stunning from this angle, love," he hummed, his voice laced with teasing sweetness. "you need me badly, don’t you, love?" his length traced over my folds teasingly, sending shivers down my spine.

though i hesitated to admit it, i couldn't deny the truth as my hips involuntarily bucked upwards, a strangled moan escaping me when he pinched my clit.

"i need you," i whimpered almost shamefully, my head falling back in surrender. "so bad, lan."

"i need you inside me," i mumbled, making his smirk return.

"missed you so fucking much," he hisses, parting my legs further as my breath got faster.

"missed you too, lan" i assured him, a moan slipping past my lips as i felt his tip pressing against my folds, though he made no further movements. i pushed my hip back to feel his length.

his hand tangling in my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail ─ one he tugged on immediately, forcing my head up.

"use your words, m' love" lando's lips grazed my ear, his cock still lightly pressing against my entrance, causing me to cry out.

"i want you to fuck me," i whined, rushing my words out as my hips pressed backward.

"need you, lan, please," i whimpered, sounding desperate.

he entered me without warning, bottoming out as my walls wrapped around him, our gasps mingling as i gripped the bedsheets below.

"always taking me so well," lando grunted in my ear as his thrusts became rougher, deeper, ensuring i felt every inch of him.

every movement sent pleasure coursing through my body, my moans filling the room as i surrendered to the pleasure.

"you feel amazing, lan," i stumbled out, my eyes rolling back as my body melted under his touch.

lando, too, seemed lost in the sensation, his head thrown back as he moved with purpose, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

"does it feel good?" his question was rhetorical, just a way to chase praise, but i could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

i nodded, the only response i could manage in his hold.

"damn, you're just perfect, baby," lando grunted, his kiss on my shoulder was gentle compared to what was happening between my legs.

it was almost too much, the tears and whimpers making it clear i was close to another climax. and just the thought had him reaching his own peak.

"cum on my cock, baby. cum for me," he urged in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as my second orgasm hit. i practically screamed, going limp in his arms.

feeling me tighten around him had him climaxing too, groaning as he leaned against me, both of us catching our breath.

his touches became softer as he pulled away, guiding me to lean against the counter. we fell into a comfortable silence, his hands gentle on my waist.

"wanna hop in the shower?" lando's voice broke the quiet, a grin spreading across his face, and i felt a wave of relief.

i grinned back and nodded, and he chuckled, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me off to the bathroom.

after a relaxing shower together, we dried off and crawled into bed, exhausted yet content. the weight of the day's activities and the intimacy we shared left us feeling pleasantly worn out.

"baby, that was something else," lando chuckled, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me close. his laughter was infectious, echoing the contentment that filled the room.

"definitely," i agreed, snuggling against him. the warmth of his body against mine was comforting, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared.

in the morning, we woke to the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. the tranquility of the moment was almost tangible as we lay intertwined, basking in the quiet stillness of the early hours.

"morning, love," lando greeted me with a smile, his eyes filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. the warmth of his lips against mine was a sweet welcome to the new day.

"morning, sleepyhead," i teased, returning his kiss with a playful grin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope u enjoyed reading my first fan-fic <3 feel free to give prompts and request !! enjoy !

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ktgoodmorning · 18 hours

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Annoying

Aitana Bonmati x ADHD!reader

This is just my experience as someone with ADHD, I know it doesn't speak for everyone!

Masterlist

You were rushing around your house, trying to get ready for the day as fast as you possibly could, already borderline late for training as you ran around grabbing things. Aitana had gone early for media duties which left you to barely scrape yourself together in time, even though you had an extra hour to do so. Usually when she was around you could just match her morning routine in a way that made your own go much more smoothly. Without her, somehow no matter what you did or how much time you gave yourself, you always ended up running around like this, praying you didn’t forget anything.

It wasn’t until you reached for your keys to leave that you noticed Aitana had left a sticky note on top of them for you:

"Phone, Bag, Boots, Change of clothes, Coffee, Take your meds

I love you, see you soon! -A"

Her note made you pause momentarily, the first time you did since you left your bed this morning. You were beyond grateful for Aitana and the way she helped you out. You never asked her to, but over the course of your relationship she had learned the things you struggled with and slowly started to do things like this to try to help. Usually it worked. Sometimes you got too used to her notes and reminders that you started ignoring them and she had to find a new way to catch your attention, but she almost always managed to succeed.

You read through her note quickly to double check everything. Your hand tapped your pocket, making sure you felt your phone. Your bag was on your shoulder which you partially unzipped to double check that your boots and clothes were there. The travel mug that Aitana had given you as a gift when you first started dating was in your free hand, but your meds. Of course you forgot your meds. Somehow after years of taking them you still forgot at times, instantly running back to grab one before heading to training.

Your drive to the stadium worked to reset your mood, somehow dragging you out of the stressed and frantic state you had been in just moments earlier. The second you parked, you bound into the stadium with a kind of pep in your step that only you had. Your head was buried in your phone, doing who knows what, as you quickly made your way to the locker room, only stopping when you narrowly avoided running into Mapi.

“Aye, watch where you’re going, amiga! What’s got you in such a rush?”

“I don’t know, just in a good mood I guess! Excited to see Tana and for a good day of training. The weather’s beautiful out today, I think it’ll be a good day. Maybe after training I’ll just lay out in the sun for a while. Or maybe I’ll go on a walk or something with Tana. I don’t know, it’s just beautiful out, I’m so excited!”

The defender shook her head at you with a light laugh, very used to your chatty nature. She was probably your best friend on the team, after Aitana of course. At times, Mapi was the only one who could keep up with you. It made for the perfect double dates that allowed you and Mapi to talk each other’s ears off while your girlfriends could do some bonding of their own. Both Aitana and Ingrid loved to see the way you could match each other’s energy in ways that nobody else could. “Maybe you should back off the coffee, I feel like you get more and more hyper every time I see you.”

“Maps, we both know that won’t help. The coffee barely does anything, it’s more just a habit at this point.” She nodded in agreement, knowing you were right. You’d tried coming off caffeine before and it never did a lot; the coffee just helped you regulate and get into your morning routine, something that you could desperately use the help with.

As you pushed open the door to the locker room, you bounced right to your girlfriend to greet her with a hug. “Tana! Good morning! How was media?”

“It was okay.” she gave you a small shrug as she pulled away, “How was your morning? Did you get my note?”

“Yes, I did! I definitely would have forgotten my meds without it, so thank you.”

“Well I’m glad it helped! Your drive was okay?”

“Oh my gosh yes! I found this new podcast I was listening to. It was so interesting you wouldn’t believe it.” You sat down next to her, starting to put on your boots and get ready for training as you continued talking, filling her in on all the details you found interesting while she just listened. Somehow Aitana never got tired of listening to you talk. She loved the way you got so excited about such random, seemingly small things, that most people wouldn’t care much about, even if she hardly understood what it was you were talking about.

As you made your way out to start training for the day, you continued to speak eagerly, almost yelling unintentionally. Aitana was fully focused on you, while those around you half-listened, amazed by her ability to keep up with you. When you got excited about whatever you were talking about, you often gradually increased your volume as well as the speed you spoke at so it was always easy for everyone around you to hear, as long as they could keep up.

After your outdoor team training session on the pitch, you all made your way inside and cleaned up a little to eat lunch. You sat at a table with Aitana, Mapi, Ingrid, Frido, and Esmee- your typical “family” on the team. The entire time you ate, your leg was bouncing relentlessly.

As soon as she noticed it, Aitana laid a hand gently on your knee to get your attention so she could give you a questioning look as her way of seeing if you were okay. You responded with a short nod, but the anxiety was still clear on your face.

Your girlfriend had mastered the art of leaning into your side in a way that let her talk to you more discreetly, “What’s wrong, mi tesoro?”

You gave her a small shrug in response, not quite sure how to put it into words yourself. “I don’t know, I’m exhausted from this morning but also feel like I have so much energy I might explode so I can’t quite figure out how to fix it.” This feeling wasn’t all that uncommon for you, something everyone was quite used to seeing cause you frustration.

“Want to go on a short walk or something? Get out your energy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think that’ll do it. I feel like I need to do some sprints or something but I know that’s a bad idea after everything we did in training today, so I’ll just get over it. I’ll be fine.”

She looked unsure at you, knowing that after lunch you had a team meeting where you’d be sitting to watch film and talk game tactics. That long period of sitting and listening wasn’t going to be easy for you if you were full of pent up energy but she knew that you knew yourself better than she did. Pushing you never worked well and typically just filled you with more frustration so she decided to let it be and just help you out if you had any issues later.

The meeting started okay. You weren’t exactly paying close attention but you did when you needed to, and it worked just fine. It was about fifteen minutes into it that Aitana noticed you picking at your nails. It was a habit you had most of your life, and one you constantly claimed you were trying to quit, but just never could. The second she saw it, she placed your hand in yours, just to hold it. It was her way of stopping you from picking without actually calling it out, knowing that would bother you instantly if she did and only make you want to do it more.

When you took her hand, you used your free one to play around with her fingers. You’d mess with her watch and her rings, just whatever she had on that you could mess with. The two of you had this routine for so long that the feeling of you playing with her hands was almost comforting in a way. She had gotten to a point where she always made sure she had something on that you could use to fidget, whether it was jewelry or even just a simple ponytail holder on her wrist.

But the longer the meeting dragged on, the less you were entertained by whatever was on her hands, eventually returning to destroying your nails. Once again, Aitana was more prepared than you ever realized. Before coming into the room, she had grabbed a random pen she found somewhere and put it in her pocket, knowing you’d have a hard time during this meeting. So the second your hands left hers, she silently passed it to you.

All you could do was look at her with admiration. You couldn’t believe how good she was to you or how well she knew you. How did she always know exactly what you needed? The dark haired woman gave you a knowing smile before turning back to Jona to listen to him talk, something that encouraged you to do the same while you kept your hands busy with the pen.

You were glad it was just a random pen off the floor because you broke it just before the meeting wrapped up, something you did a lot. The second you both heard the quiet “snap” of the piece breaking off, Aitana gave you a pointed look while your face immediately turned suspicious, looking at her, somehow trying to feign as if you hadn’t just broken it. Both of you struggled to keep a straight face and hold in your giggles to do your best to keep paying attention and not be a distraction. It was hard to hold in your snickering as you now had two pieces of pen to mess with while the meeting finally came to a close before you could break anything else.

As you left the room, to return to the locker room to going home, your girlfriend giggled at you and your antics. “How do you always end up breaking whatever I give you?”

“I don’t think it’s my fault! I think you just find bad pens!”

“You know, I don’t think it is! It happens every single time!”

“Tana, did you ever consider that maybe I’m just really strong so-“

“Aitana, how do you put up with this one and her yapping? Do you ever get any peace and quiet or does she talk like this through the night too?” Cata threw her arm around your girlfriend’s shoulders as she joined the two of you.

You knew she didn’t mean anything by it but the words still made your heart drop. It was one of the things that made you insecure at times even though you were always unable to stop yourself. You annoyed yourself at times with all your talking and often had to work to suppress the voice in your head saying that everyone hated you for it.

The second the words left her mouth, the rest of the conversation was mute to you, not hearing the way your girlfriend defended you and got harsher with Cata than she normally ever did. You were immediately stuck in a whirlwind of your own thoughts and insecurities which remained there as you showered and changed.

Unless you had somewhere specific to be, you typically took your time getting ready to go home, stopping to talk to your friends or just getting lost scrolling on your phone. It was because of this that Aitana was shocked when she returned from the showers to see you and all your stuff already gone. Because you had driven separately that morning, she wasn’t worried about you leaving without her, more worried about how out of character this behavior was for you. So she immediately picked up her pace in hopes of getting home as quickly as possible to make sure you were okay.

Aitana noticed right away when you went quiet but wanted to give you some space. Sometimes if she prodded too much, it made you feel like she was parenting you more than being your girlfriend so she wanted to give it some time to see if you’d come to her or sort it out on your own before she pushed you. She hoped maybe your car ride home would work as a “reset” to your mood.

When Aitana unlocked the door to your shared apartment, she was surprised to find you peacefully asleep on the couch. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought you’d been there for hours based on how comfortable you looked. You liked naps at times, especially when you didn’t feel like facing your emotions so she probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was. Deciding to join you, she grabbed a blanket to lay over you and sat down next to you with a book, doing her best not to wake you, even though she knew she would be doing so soon so that you’d have a hope of getting to sleep later that night.

She let you sleep for about a half hour before gently running a hand over your face and playing with your hair lightly to bring you out of your nap. “Baby, I think you should wake up, otherwise you won’t be able to go to bed tonight.”

All you did was grumble and pull yourself closer to her, not in the mood to be awake and certainly not to be talking right now. “Why don’t you lay here for a few minutes to keep waking up, and I’ll go make you a snack?”

“Thank you, Tana.” You mumbled with a lazy nod. You knew she was right, and were glad she was giving you the time you needed to get yourself awake, never in the mood to be talking after waking up from a nap. Knowing you didn’t wait for her after training today, it was clear she was going to ask you about it because of how unusual it was for you. You liked to be glued to your girlfriend’s side whenever you could be so it was obvious to her that something was wrong when you voluntarily left on your own.

When she returned with your food, Aitana was surprised to see that you hadn’t fallen back asleep but were now sitting up, scrolling through your phone, much more awake than when she left a few minutes earlier. She had done this enough times before to know that beating around the bush would only grow your anxiety so as soon as she sat down next to you, she decided to ask. “Hey, what’s going on with you? You’ve been quiet since the end of training today.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “just tired I guess.” You both knew it was a lie and your lack of eye contact made it even more obvious, but you really weren’t good at opening up unless someone (Aitana) pushed you.

“Come on, baby, we both know that’s not true, you've been too quiet. What's on your mind, sweetheart?” she gave your knee a reassuring squeeze as you picked around at your food. “Talk to me, you know I just want to help you. If you just want to rant, I’ll listen or if you want a solution to whatever it is, I’ll help you with that too. Just talk to me, please.”

You remained silent, stubbornly doing your best not to give in to her even though you knew you would soon, just biting your nails and avoiding eye contact. “Do you want me to call Mapi and you could talk to her about it? She would always listen if you want that. I just think you should talk about it, that always helps you clear your head and make sense of everything.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone else right now, I just want you.” You groaned dramatically at how good she was to you and how easily she broke down your walls."The stuff Cata said just kinda got to me earlier. Aita, I feel like I talk too much sometimes and it just feels like I’m so annoying to everyone else." You paused, clearly not telling her the entire story as your voice dropped to a whisper. “And sometimes I get nervous that you’ll realize how annoying I can be and leave.”

Her face dropped as the words left your mouth, instantly heartbroken over the way you thought about yourself. The dark haired woman moved closer to you, bringing her hands to gently cup the sides of your face. "Love, it is when you go quiet, that I worry about you. It’s not annoying. I- It makes me happy to see you so happy. I love seeing how excited you get when you talk about things you like, it’s adorable. So please, don't ever think that. I would never do that to you, I promise.”

“Do you promise you don’t get annoyed with me, though?”

“I absolutely promise that. I love when you talk so fast I can’t keep up or when you accidentally end up yelling cause you’re so excited. I love when you’re bouncing around and giggling and when you talk to me until I fall asleep, or, even better, until you fall asleep and aren’t making sense anymore. I love everything about you, even if you don’t.”

“Thank you,” you leaned into her side, allowing her to wrap an arm around you and hold you close. “I love you, Tana.”

“I love you, baby. Now why don’t you eat some of this before it goes cold? Maybe we can watch a movie or something then.”

“That sounds perfect… as long as I get to pick the movie?” She rolled your eyes at the hopeful look in your eyes, both knowing that she would instantly give into you and let you pick, before settling in next to you for your night of relaxing together, while you undoubtedly talked through most of the movie.

This one felt a little too real lmao. Wouldn't be surprised if I did some more in this universe. As always, requests and feedback are more than welcome!

Masterlist

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #woso #woso x reader #espwnt #sefutbol fem #woso imagine #wosoreadingaitana #wosoreading24/7

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bg-brainrot · 2 days

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To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick.

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities.

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence.

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry.

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #astarion pov

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suashii · 3 days

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— 𝓁𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 ౨ৎ

suo hayato x reader ﾉ 957 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reader works at a cafe ﾉ suo is a flirty fella~

my first time writing for the fandom! if u don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all :3

the bell above the door rings, but you don’t stop wiping down the table or turn around to greet your customer. without seeing him, without hearing him, you already know who it is. no one else would feel so comfortable walking in so near to closing time.

“ah~ i’m not too late, am i?” suo’s voice rings through the air of the cafe, calm and curious. you can hear the soft smile in it.

when you turn around, he’s already made himself comfortable at his regular spot—a stool off the end of the counter where you take orders. the white changshan he dons is pristine and it makes the yellow of his hanging earrings seem even brighter than usual. his head is tilted to the side as he waits for a response or a greeting,

your eyes flit up to the clock on the wall. “seven minutes later and the door would have been locked.”

“lucky me!” he closes his visible eye and happily waves his hands. it doesn’t seem as though he minds being one of the customers you would usually complain to him about. maybe it’s because he knows you’d make an exception for him—not that you’ve ever told him so, though, he’s claimed on multiple occasions that you’re easy for him to read. perhaps he’s caught on to your thinly veiled fondness of him.

“what kept you?” you ask, lifting up the countertop to step behind it. you toss the rag you had just been using into the sink before turning on the water to wash your hands. your skin prickles as you do so and you know it’s because the man’s auburn gaze is glued to your back. “you’re usually in here a little earlier.”

“something held me up,” he tells you as you dry your hands. you raise your eyebrows in an attempt to prod him for more information. but you’re only met with a smile and the vague addition of, “nothing important.”

you’ve got an idea of what he was up to but, just like suo, you choose not to say it. his unwillingness to share used to come across as secretive but when you began to learn more about him through snippets of the conversations of your regulars, you gained a better understanding of his avoidance of certain topics. that privacy he so often exercises is really a shield to protect you from the not-so-pretty parts of his world.

maybe he truly is the gentleman seemingly everyone regards him as.

you clear your throat in hopes of changing the subject. “anything you’re craving today?”

he hums in thought, tapping his chin as though he’s deeply considering all of his options. you have to bite back a smile because, other than the fact that your selection is incredibly limited due to the time, you and he both know he already has an answer in mind. as if he had just settled on it, suo meets your eye. “have any tea cakes left?”

“they sold out this morning.”

he lets out an exaggerated, disappointed sigh before poking his bottom lip out in a pout. “how unfortunate.”

his theatrical show is enough to make you roll your eyes but it doesn’t stop you from turning around to grab the box you had set aside once you finished baking this morning. in addition to being suo’s favorite, the tea cakes he requested are a best seller at the bakery. you had a feeling they’d be gone before he got the chance to get some for himself. so, you thought ahead and separated a few from the batch just for him.

you carefully slide the box in front of him. “i saved some for you.”

“ i really am lucky.” he smiles, teeth and all. you’ve always thought that it’s a good thing he’s so happy—otherwise, you wouldn’t get to see his smile as often as you do. now that you’ve seen it, you can’t imagine going a day without the sight. soon enough, his teeth are hidden behind lips that curl up at the corners. “you must be an angel put on earth just for me.”

“relax,” you breathe out a nervous laugh, “i wouldn’t go that far.”

his honeyed words leave you feeling a little embarrassed. all you did was set some treats aside for him… so why are the tips of your ears growing warm and your fingers restlessly fiddling with the hem of your apron?

there’s a hint of humor—entertainment, actually—in suo’s voice when he asks, “how much do i owe you?”

you shake your head. “don’t worry about it. it’s on the house.”

“wow, if you’re any nicer to me, i might start thinking you have a crush or something.”

“what?!” you don’t mean to raise your voice but the accusation isn’t something you can glide past so easily. where on earth did he get that idea? does saving a regular one of their favorites equate to having feelings for them all of a sudden? despite the answer, you rush to explain away the misunderstanding. “i don’t! i-i just—it was a slow night so i already counted the register.”

suo nods along to your excuse, but you don’t miss the way his lips quiver as though he’s one second away from bursting out in laughter. it puts a frown on your face. “i’m serious!”

“no, no,” he waves his hands in surrender but his grin doesn’t budge, “i believe you. it’s just that you’re so adamant.”

“because i don’t like you,” you tell him. “not like that.”

he nods again but it’s accompanied by a sigh this time. “well, that’s too bad. if someone as cute as you had a crush on me, i’d be the luckiest guy in the world.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated if u enjoyed <3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: wind breaker #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #wind breaker x reader #suo fluff #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker (satoru nii)

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raayllum · 2 days

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ALRIGHT, time to talk about the poster in lovely HD.

First things first, I want to talk about these two ladies (?). The upper one closer to the moon looks more like an elf, and is gazing down at the second, closer woman. I've seen people speculate Ziard due to the hair, but none of this usual clothing appendages are there, so I lean towards a new character, and possibly being the human Aaravos had a special connection to. We see what looks like the arches of the Moon Nexus framed behind them, which was the case both when Rayla went through the portal in TTM and when Lujanne used historia viventum to show Callum the way things looked before. Souls of hate and love, maybe?

We see other Moon symbols throughout the posture sure as archangel lunarises, which seek out Moon magic (1x01) and can be used in illusion spells (2x03, 3x09). We also see the enchanted lotuses from 3x03, though for what purpose is unclear (more on that later).

Moving down, we have a fully celestial, quite happy Aaravos. He's in full flourish and clearly using Moon magic for someone, as begetting the moon behind him, though whether he's constructing lotuses or channeling energy into his Key (perhaps making it able to sense Moon magic) is unknown. While the lotuses in 3x03 were occasionally different colours, the deep purple here makes me think of dark magic. If he is channeling his cube, perhaps he's taking moon energy from the lotuses (or moths) surrounding him to put inside.

I don't think I need to scream much further than I already have about the Moon rune glowing on his Key and having it displayed with his usual star symbol (rune cube foreshadowing symbolism my beloved). This bodes well for theories in which 1) Callum goes too far and does something knowingly risky to free the Moon fam for Rayla's sake or 2) does something risky to help Aaravos to protect Rayla's life, each subsequently to being possessed and/or playing into Aaravos' hands. Thank you goodnight.

Then we have the book, which is deeply fascinating. It seems like a very Moon book, the fragments framing it similar to the ones we see on the lotuses and possibly evoking one of the archangel lunaris' flying around. It wouldn't surprise me if the book contains a variant of Deep moon magic of some kind, whatever that would look like. The crescent curved moon is also similar to the symbol we see on Aaravos' poem page for the Midnight Star in show (2x08). I do wonder why each side of the book looks so different though, with no actual visible moon in sight besides the tiny gemstones and the crescent moon, the other side being entirely dark (which, to be fair, is pretty moon-y).

We also sort of but don't quite see Aaravos' famous chest piece, though it is a-glowing. Whether it glowed all the time pre-Fall we just don't know, as the only time we've seen it glow/be filled in is 2x09 when he's channeling magic through Viren, but who knows. It does mean that the cube is even older than his banishment and that if it does hold his chest piece, it was placed after (if it's tangible at all, which has always been one of the biggest questions).

This is perhaps the weirdest thing that I am the most interested in, as alongside his crown and bangles, this is the biggest design difference between Aaravos in-show and out. In show, both in his mirror and even 'pre-Fall' (aka the timeline for the 1x01 shot is probably a lie anyway), Aaravos' hip thingy is a lot more simplistic.

However, Aaravos does have all his flowery (and I mean that literally, it looks like petals) adornment in his concept art.

The fact they have a lotus flower flair to them always felt interesting but ultimately like a coincidence, but perhaps not. Either way as pictured below, it seems like he's either constructing or dismantling the lotuses, which is Eyes Emoji either way.

The most... surely metaphorical / abstract portion of the poster, though, is I'd imagine the very bottom. I hesitate to read into things too literally (one of the S5 posters had Finnegrin's ship being blasted with lightning and Domina watching the waves, and while she featured in the season and played a role in Finnegrin's aims, the scene itself as portrayed did not come fully to fruition) so I'm gonna go with a more symbolic read, just as as disclaimer.

Lastly we have these two figures. I'm assuming the one in white is an elf and betting on young Aaravos or Leola, though it could be someone else connected to the Moon arcanum (the elven daughter who vouched for exiling rather than eliminating humanity?). The red and black shadow figure feels far more sinister (blood and stardust, anyone) but if you lighten the shadows, you get something even more... interesting, shall we say.

Rather than standing up straight, this figure almost seems to swoop down with a draconic like claw and a face that reminds me the most of Sir Sparklepuff's features, honestly, perhaps boasting a similar kind of blood (Viren's) and star (Aaravos) and dark magic (the staff?). It is also clearly moving toward the more humanoid figure on the bottom right, which gives a "corruption is reaching / coming for / offering things to you" sort of vibe.

#tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #s6 spoilers #promo art #official art #tdp aaravos #aaravos #s6 speculation #s6 #arc 2 #predictions #analysis series #analysis

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penvisions · 17 hours

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how we pass the time {by the grit of sandpaper}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: Budding conversations and budding feelings go hand in hand as you begin to spend more time with Joel Miller.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: canon typical language, pining, requited unrequited feelings, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, joel miller's hands need their own warning, joel is so soft in this, pet names, terms of endearment, SET BEFORE THE FIRST CHAPTER

A/N: the lovely @picketniffler sent in an emoji ask for the final chapter celebration and i ran with the idea (it was only supposed to be a drabble but these two live in my head rent free) ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Reading.” You had replied almost instantly, causing a hearty chuckle to sound from somewhere deep in Joel’s chest. His random question of hobbies barely leaving his plush lips. “I spend a lot of time reading, researching.”

“And what exactly do you research?” He didn’t turn from his survey of the trail ahead of him, the trees thick and dense with summer blooms. You had been with him for a few months now, partnered up as Maria begins to reduce her activities, Tommy wanting to remain as close to her as possible in case anything happened. Due in winter, she was about halfway through her pregnancy, something you were trying to fuel with protein and nutrient dense foods. Things you could make to allow for some hormone control and balance. Hence the research. Any and all books on food and cooking found their way to your doorstep, or were delivered to you by hand from the couple themselves, even a few of the other council members should they need to see if had anything of interest for the whole community first.

Your answer wasn’t as instantaneous. Voice caught in your throat as you took in the rather picturesque view of the man’s broad body atop his trusty stead trotting slowly up ahead of you. His shoulders were swathed in a denim button up, fabric taut over the planes of his shoulder blades, allowing you to see how his back tensed and clenched as Kiana, his favored brown and white patterned horse, tackled the overgrown trail. His hair was shorter, as if he had tried to curb the prevalent heat but it only made the disheveled curls his hair had been in begin to show themselves around the nape of his neck. Sweat beaded up and dampened the denim, no doubt even more noticeable on the tank top or undershirt he donned underneath.

But you hadn’t been so modest today, decked out in a pair of jeans and tank top. The sleeveless top allowed for your arms to feel the embrace of the sun, not quite smoldering but still sweltering. Sweat was surly discoloring the pale blue of it, the tone matching Joel’s attire. He had teased you over it when he approached the stables, you already having prepared the horses for the early morning route. But the grin with his tongue between his teeth had told you had hadn’t really minded, and maybe he had even liked that you had unconsciously matching him…

“Olive?” He turned to you know, one thick brow raised in question. “Heat got ya?”

“No, sorry. Just, taking in the views.”

“Views are pretty good.” His eyes moved over your body, taking in the way the strap of the shotgun was nestled over your chest, the collar of your top low. The shade provided by the wide brimmed hat you favored allowed for your eyes to remain hidden from him, though you were sure he could’ve felt the weight of your staring.

“You said you do a lot of research?” You shook the mental image of you both sprawled out on your couch, you with a book in your hands and a notebook to scrawl notations, him with another or even just content with something playing brightly across the room on your small television. He was so…alluring. His quiet demeanor, his willingness to do what he could to earn his keep in the community, his skills of helping Tommy and the scant crew with construction and home repairs. He had been a there since spring, a part of your life since then. Unwilling to imitate the rest of the town as he noticed how they either ignored your presence or gave you tight lipped smiles in response to your scarce interactions. He didn’t really see you much around town, something you had admitted to not doing much, leaving your house. He must’ve sensed the shift in your mood when he had asked why, moving his focus onto something else.

“Oh! Y-yes, research. O-on the nutrient offerings of food, of how certain crops can be boosted through simple scientific fixes, I work in the gardens a lot, have one in my own backyard.”

“I been reading a lot lately myself.” He turned back to face forward, the column of his neck glistening with a light sheen of sweat. “Also been dabblin’ in woodworking.”

“That’s pre-pretty cool. What made you interested in that, if I may ask?” Silent for a beat, his eyes tracing the way a long limb up ahead shook. Searching for anything that would signal another soul this far into the forest, or if it was just a small animal scurrying as they foraged or fled at the gentle rise and fall of your voices as you shared with one another.

But he was also thinking…picturing you sat beside him in his newly set up work room in his home. The light woodsy, floral scent you seemed to have naturally encompassing him as you watch him walk you through carving and painting the small figures he had begun to sooth his aching hands with. Turning to you, a smile so soft you often aimed at him in full bloom as you relished in sharing his space and the smooth baritone of his voice. He knew you liked it, how it was low and gravely sometimes in the early morning. Coffee smoothing the edges of his sleep and shifting it to velvet that prompted more conversation on the days your eyes dilated upon his arrival at the stables.

“Always so sweet with your questions. Thought we were passed that, I’ll talk with ya. About anything.”

“I really appreciate that, Joel.” You tightened the grip of your hands around the reigns. Thinking about how he didn’t shy away from you like most people, even if he was notoriously hard to connect with when he was out and about in town. So busy at all hours of the day, returning to his home, his and Ellie’s home well into the evening nearly every day. You only noticed because his street was just beyond yours, his large build passing by your windows as you made dinner each night. The urge to call out your open window and offer him a serving always on the tip of your tongue. “It…it means a lo-lot to me.”

“I like our conversations, sweetheart. One of the easiest people to talk to.”

Your breath hitched and you hoped he hadn’t heard it, but the minute swivel of his head to the left told you he had despite his bad hearing in the other. He had only ever called you by your nickname. He only ever called people by the names handed to him along with their introduction. Your skin tingled, pride at earning such an endearment from the man making your head swim and your mind go blank.

“Would love to show you the figurines I make sometime, started it as a way to curb the pain in my aching hands but it’s actually pretty calming.”

“Ye-yeah, I get that. Zone out and create something.”

“Exactly, you got it just right, sweetheart.”

There it was again, the new reference and you felt heat rise up from where it came to live in your chest and up the column of your neck. You…you wouldn’t mind hearing it more or even the invitation to see his home, his work. The niggling feeling of the town taking the occurrence and fueling the fires of gossip surrounding you springing up and tainting the moment. You frowned, not liking that the mere possibility of talk deterred you from the man’s kindness.

taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon

@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 15 hours

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girl on fire 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, neglect, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: neglected, you find comfort in another home.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Loki

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself

Another lonely morning greets you. The chirping of birds and the yellow haze of sunlight does little to warm your bed. You stretch your arm out, feeling the empty space beside you. You lift your hand and stare at the ring you forgot to take off, as you often do. Sometimes, you just don’t want to. Sometimes you think if you do, he’ll truly be gone.

Your husband isn’t gone though. Just absent. Just away on business. What's the difference?

You sit up and that knot under your shoulder pangs. You don’t sleep well without Loki near. Even after all this time, you’re not used to it. You wonder if he lays awake in his hotel beds.

You go to the bathroom and wake yourself up with a splash of cold water. The day unfolds slowly around you as the dregs of sleep recede to painful reality. Alone. Again. Just like every day. When you said til death do you part, you didn’t think it would be a walking death.

You wash and dress, for no reason in particular. You suppose because you should look human if you go outside. You sit and drink your tea in the kitchen as you watch the news on your phone. Current events only make you feel worse about the world. Even in your suburban paradise, there is no joy.

You close out the player and tap on your messages. The last text you got from your errant husband was two nights ago. He landed safely. He doesn’t respond unless you message first. You’re starting to forget the days when he would rush in the door and sweep you off your feet. There is only numbness left where once you tingled.

You’ll talk. Yeah, you’ll sit down and communicate and make it all better. Sure, that’ll happen. You laugh at yourself as you rinse the mug and leave it in the sink. You say that to yourself every time and then he comes home and it’s just silence.

This isn’t a home, it’s a prison. At least you get outdoors time here.

You step into your slippers and go outside, grabbing your gardening gloves as you tie on the tool belt with trowel, rake, and spade tucked in the pockets. You roll your shoulders and stretch, groaning as the dull jab remains under your shoulder blade. You need to stop reading in bed.

As you near the soil along the walk, you stop short. Dirt litters the pavement and petals scatter all around. You near fall to your knees, staggering instead as you grasp at your stomach. No, no, no.

You stare down at the ruin of your tulips. Not just any tulips but the pink and white ones you’d been nursing for weeks. The ones you bought yourself to mark your tenth year of marriage. The gift you never got from your husband because he couldn’t fit you into his calendar.

“Ugh!” You exclaim and stomp the broken stems. “I hate you!”

You stamp your feet in the dirt, spreading the mess, jumping up and down as your anger swells and your hurt flows over. That damn squirrel! That pest! That horrid creature!

You kick through the other flowers, crushing peonies and pansies and violets. You don’t care about any of it. It doesn’t matter. It all just wilts and dies. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit.

You clutch your head and collapse on your heels, sitting on your knees as you hang your head forward. It’s not the flowers. You know it’s not. The one thing you don’t want to think about is the only thing you can think about.

You stay like that, sobbing into the ruin of your front garden. How pathetic you must look in your old Gap tee shirt and oversized sweatpants. If any of those HOA cyborgs walked by, they’d surely give you a citation.

“Pardon,” a voice breaks through your tragedy and you close your eyes.

You’re delusional. You have to be imagining things. It sounds just like him. Like your Loki. You turn your head and open your eyes, lashes webbed with tears. You sniff and quickly mop them away. Of course it wouldn’t be your husband.

“Are you alright? I saw you fall from across the street,” the slim tall man stands on the other side of your iron gate. “Oh my, well, what a mess that chap made of your garden. I’m afraid he had a go at mine as well.”

You squint and shake your head, “who?”

“That squirrel fellow. He broke one of my planters as well,” he points with his long index finger. How peculiar. He reminds you of him. Tall, slim, and his nose...

“That’s... yeah,” you sniffle and look down, using your shirt, to wipe away what’s left of your grief.

“They must’ve meant very much. Even if they are just flowers, I can empathise,” he says.

You shrug, “I’m being dramatic.”

You stand and sweep off your pants. He lingers and you avoid looking at him. You’ve humiliated yourself enough.

“Tulips,” he remarks. “I’ve some lovely blue ones from Holland if you’d like some bulbs. Can never have too many.”

“That’s nice of you,” you keep your head down, turning your back to him, “who are you exactly?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I’ve not made the rounds yet. I... do you perhaps know a Hattie?”

“Yeah, across the street,” you mutter.

“That would be her. My aunt,” he explains, “she’s in need of some assistance, she’s due for surgery, so I’ve volunteered myself as her minder. She always did make the nicest biscuits, I only think it fair.”

“That’s... nice,” you nearly choke on emotion. It is very sweet and selfishly, you feel worse for hearing it.

“Needless to say, I’m a bit of a stranger around here,” he continues, “I’m Jonathan, though, if you... care.”

You take a breath and lower your head, trying to get yourself together. You face him and try to force a smile but only feel like you might start crying again. You enunciate your name through the tension in your lips.

He repeats it and it nearly takes your breath away, “do I have that right?”

You have to hold back a gasp as you nod.

“Beautiful,” he remarks, “happy to have a name to the face. I hate to be trouble but you might see me around.”

“That's… That's okay. I'm sorry. I'm just… having a day,” you try to laugh out your distress but it only sounds fractured.

“We all do,” he says, “I might be so lucky you never catch me in one.”

“Sure, uh, I'll… I gotta go inside.”

“Of course,” he purrs, “I shall let you know if I do catch the menace.”

You put on a perplexed face.

“The squirrel,” he says, “I am merciful, never worry. I'll only give him a good fright.”

“Mm, thanks, er, I'll keep an eye out too.”

“I do hope your day turns for the better,” he dips his head slightly, “can't complain for the sun, can we?”

He turns and struts to the curb. You watch as he looks both ways then strolls on, hands in his pockets, a man without a care. You envy him that, but you can't quite place that other thorn in your chest.

#jonathan pine #loki #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #drabble #series #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #the night manager #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers #au #girl on fire

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liyahin4k · 21 hours

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𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐘: Paige dose an interview were she gets asked about her celebrity crush’s and your name comes up

You were out with some friends when you got the message from you agent she had sent you the video of Paige. You read the comments and saw all the fans going crazy for no reason at all.

You’ve heard of Paige but never really paid any attention to her. “Yo look at this” you’re friend yelled over the loud music she showed you a picture of you and one of Paige’s pictures together on some fan page “damn they fast” you mumbled.

You looked back to your friend “I’ll deal with it later” you walked away to get another drink.

It was now the next morning you were back stage getting your hair and makeup done before your interview with jimmy Fallon for your new movie that’s coming out next week.

“Soo what going on with you and Paige bueckers” you’re makeup artist smirked looking at you in the mirror “what” you looked up.

“Everyone’s talking about you too like you the next big thing” she giggled “no their not,it just happened yesterday” you shook your head “go on twitter and see for yourself” she told you before she left finished with your makeup.

You paused And thought for a minute before giving up and going on twitter. There were pictures of you and her everywhere you couldn’t help but laugh going through the comments.

User18: they would be so good together

User3649: y’all are crazy they don’t even know each other like that.

User65: so you never know 🤭

You laughed to yourself before getting up and leaving your room to head on stage. You waited to be called out standing to the side as jimmy started talking about you and your appearance tonight.

After his speech you were brought out you waved to the crowd smiling. Before taking your seat you and jimmy hugged and and shook hands.

“So how do you feel about your movie coming out next week” he asked “nervous” you softly laughed “why” he laughed “well it being my first movie I’m kinda shitting my pants” you laughed everyone laughed with you “any spoilers, you can give us” he smirked.

“spoilers” you thought out loud “not really but there is a Sean where things get a little..” “spicy” he finished for you “yeah” you laughed blushing.

“I hate to get off topic buttt,you and Paige bueckers” he dragged out. The whole crowd went crazy making you roll your eyes with a soft smile.

“Anything you have to say about that” “unfortunately no I’ve never really had any conversation with her nor met her in person I would love to one day though” you answered.

The interview went on and on some questions about the movie and your music and some about you and Paige again.

A few weeks went by your movie was off the charts everyone was talking about it, you would have thought the Paige thing would have went down but no it got worse.

You were laying down on your phone when you’re friend cam in “guess whatttt” she sang “what” you looked up.

“I got us tickets to a basketball game” she smirked “cool what team” you got up and walked past her not paying attention “come and find out” she smirked .

You walked into the stadium looking around confused recognizing all the colors, you froze when you heard the crowd screaming the teams name..UConn.

“Why the hell would you bring me here” you softly shouted towards your friend “what don’t you wanna meet you future wife” she smirked pulling you to your seats which were in the front.

You grew nervous as you noticed some people in the crowd noticed you,they started talking pictures and videos you softly smiled and waved at them.

“I’m going to kill you” you mumble as the game started.

It was almost half time when Paige’s eyes caught yours you softly smiled at her,she looked away softly blushing “ouuu” your friend laughed “shut up” you laughed.

The game went on and on it wa the last round UConn winning with 113 points and the other team losing with 87. The ball was in Paige’s hands,with only 10 seconds left she threw the ball making it into the net

You smiled clapping happy they won.your were on your way out when some fans came over stopping you for some pictures,you sighed as they walked away.

“Hey” you turned around only to be met with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen “hi..Paige right” you nervously smiled “y-yeah” she answered “you were great out there” you pointed out “thanks,you to-I mean” she mumbled.

You smiled watching her blush “I’ll see you around bueckers” you slowly walked away as she watched mouth slightly open speechless.

(𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥🌚)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #viral #tumblr fyp #nika muhl #black reader

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mothwingwritings · 2 days

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What Picture Of You The Baki Men Choose As Their Phone Background, Pt. 1 <3

Reader X Baki, Retsu, and Katsumi

I saw this prompt for some other fandoms and thought it was absolutely adorable, so here are some silly little sweet headcanons for your reading pleasure!

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some mentions of suggestive themes and spicy texts, but other than that it’s rather mild. Also, it’s pretty lightly edited. No gendered words, but leans towards a female reader.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Baki Hanma 📱

Lock Screen- A cute picture of the two of you from one of your first official dates. It was at an amusement park and some of the park employees were greeting oncoming guests dressed up as mascots, milling around the front of the park posing with and taking pictures with the newcomers. At the time you were rather embarrassed, the characters mostly flocked to the children that were entering the park, but since there were no children in your party they all buzzed around you instead. The huge, florescent pink cat-suited individual that danced around you commented on what a lovely couple you were, urging you and Baki to form a heart with your hands as they posed energetically behind you, their cohort (an equally bright blue dog) snapping a quick picture of the three of you with Baki’s phone. Though the photo was rushed and a little blurry, you are all smiles in the shot, both yourself and Baki looking both bashful and genuinely happy. The love radiating through that image alone warms his heart each time he glances at it, and it warmed yours in turn to know he cherished the memory as much as you did, going so far as to set it as his lock screen so that he could be reminded of it each time he checked his phone.

Home Screen- A candid picture of yourself on another one of your dates, taken quite some time after the amusement park picture was taken. The newbie awkwardness in your relationship had greatly diminished at this point, a peaceful sort of comfort and familiarity now reigning supreme in your romance. Years of being with another person does that to you, your new-relationship jitters subsiding as you get to know all about your partner, their best and worst sides. With time all their obnoxious or gross habits have long since been laid bare, but you are still somehow simultaneously finding new things about them that make you love them even more. Your love changes with time, morphing from something fresh and new to something much deeper, more concrete, more real. The picture he displayed on his homes screen was taken on a random day at a random time when nothing in particular was going on. You were simply walking in front of him and stopped for a brief moment to look at something across the way. He wasn’t even sure what it was that caught your attention, didn’t even really care, he was just fully fixated on you and how breathtakingly gorgeous you looked in that average, everyday moment. Before he even realized he was doing it he snapped a pic, and he was very grateful that he did. Each time he stares at his screen his heart races, beating so rapidly it’s as if he was back in the puppy-love stage of the relationship, and he falls for you all over again.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Retsu Kaioh 📱

Lock Screen- Like Baki, Retsu is rather fond of candid pictures. Something about capturing you spur of the moment in your day to day life really appeals to him, his heart fluttering when he catches glimpses of reminders that you have become a part of his daily routine. He gets to witness you in all states of being, and knowing you are comfortable enough around him to be your most natural, unguarded self, warms his heart like nothing else. You yourself didn’t find anything super special about the picture he took of you at the home and garden store. If anything you felt the image of yourself holding a succulent in a death grip, eying it a little too intensely as you debated whether you wanted to purchase it or not, was embarrassing. Retsu begs to differ, and each time you gripe about it he goes on a mini spiel, explaining to you in a little too much detail just how endearing he finds your ‘suffering an internal crisis as you try to find the perfect plant for the kitchen windowsill’ expression. This never ceases to instantly make your cheeks blush bright red at the impassioned nature of his tone. Still, the fact that he can find such ardent moments of love in the mundane is one of the reasons why you fell for him to begin with. You hope to share many more little adventures with him that yield even more random pictures you can look back on and smile, whether you personally find them flattering or not. As long as they bring Retsu joy, you will find joy in them as well.

Home Screen- If the picture of you at the store made you a little self-conscious, then his home screen was enough to make you want to bury your face and cry. At some point he had snapped an image of you asleep on the couch. This wasn’t some cutesy ‘I just fell asleep and look like a peaceful little angel’ snooze either- you were DEEP in the troughs of a nap, completely dead to the world. Mouth wide open with a rivulet of drool seeping out the side, old shirt rumpled up with your hand rested on your exposed belly, hair an absolute rats nest as it messily framed your head, it was the kind of picture that could easily be used as blackmail. Yet Retsu cherished it, beaming down at it like a parent looking at their child’s straight A report card. While you cringed each time you peered at his phone screen, questioning why in the world he would pick such an unflattering picture of you to stare at each day, it crossed your mind that maybe he set it as a joke, or to poke fun at you. That thought was quickly laid to rest however, as the sheer look of pure love that reflected in his eyes each time he stared at it made you keenly aware that his choice of setting it as his wallpaper was no prank. Somehow he found true beauty in that gross picture of you, and that in and of itself melted your heart a little bit. So it didn’t really matter how much you loathed the picture, after seeing Retsu’s puppy dog eyes as he stared at your passed out visage you decided it was fine to let him keep it as his background in lieu of something a little more complementary (as long as no one else was allowed to use his phone and potentially see it, that is).

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Katsumi Orochi 📱

Lock Screen- He is definitely the type of dude to have some kind of dweeby, professionally done picture of the two of you as his lock screen. You remember thinking he was kidding when he asked you if you were interested in booking a couples photo session, but when you noted the serious look in his eye as he pressed the issue, you knew the offer wasn’t a joke. Though hesitant, you found yourself unable to turn him down, and a few days later you found yourself in a photo studio posing awkwardly while a photographer happily snapped away, complimenting what a cute couple you were as he directed you to pose this way or that. Despite the previous uncertainty and slightly uncomfortable atmosphere, quite a few gems were born from the shoot, and you ended up being very happy to have some beautifully charming shots to look back on. A certain picture stood out from the rest, one grabbed just as some silly, random comment from Katsumi made you both burst into a fit of laughter. With his arms wrapped around you from behind and huge genuine smiles engulfing both your faces, you leaned into one other, reliant on each other’s support lest you collapse to the ground into a pile of giggles. It was such a fun, happy capture that it very easily became your all-time favorite picture of the two of you. So you couldn’t help but smile when you happened to spy his lock screen, finding it ironic that he chose your favorite picture to grace his background, especially when your own lock screen displayed the exact same pic. <3

Home Screen- A spicier selfie you sent him in the past. While there is no nudity in the shot itself, you can pinpoint the precise moment you took the shot, remembering it as one that definitely led to some much more revealing pictures (with provocative text to match). You also remembered being quite proud of the selfie- the seductive smolder in your eye, the way your shirt had slunk down your shoulder, the coy little smile on your face as you bit into your bottom lip, all of it came together for a truly sexy presentation. You weren’t one to often brag about your looks, but that day you worked hard to look hot and it had certainly paid off. That day had also blessed you with good lighting and one of the best hair/makeup days of your life, so to see the image grace his phone screen made butterflies burst in your stomach, a feeling of elation washing over you with the realization that the effort you put in was not in vain. Though it made you blush a little to see that he had made one of the private pictures you sent him his phone background, there was no denying that it pleased you greatly. He was the type of man that earnestly believed that you were the most gorgeous thing on the planet no matter how much or little you were dolled up, but realizing that he took extra notice of when you put in effort to look your best for him, liking it to the point of making it a picture he could stare at all day (while all manner of fantasies were surely buzzing through his brain)…. Well, it certainly set your heart a flutter, for more reason than one.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

#baki x reader #baki x y/n #baki the grappler x reader #baki the grappler x y/n #baki hanma x reader #baki hanma x y/n #retsu kaioh x reader #retsu kaioh x y/n #katsumi orochi x reader #katsumi orochi x y/n #baki headcanons #baki the grappler headcanons #just felt like writing some fluff in between all the carnage I usually unleash upon the masses lul #thank you so much for reading!!!#mothwingswritings #more will probs come later #I am thinking of Jack Hanayama and Biscuit next

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freesia-writes · 2 days

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Pets4Vets: Jesse (2/4)

Chapter 2 of 4 Word Count: 3.2k Jesse x Fem Reader previous chapter here

Jesse’s leg jiggled incessantly in his flimsy plastic chair in the reception area. He fidgeted with his fingers for a bit, then sat back, crossing them across his chest and lifting his chin. You swung open the door, datapad in hand, and scanned the empty room, stifling a grin at the fact that he nearly took up the entire corner. He was indeed “a big boy”, and his thin t-shirt made no attempt to conceal that fact. The giant Republic cog tattooed across his face and head was quite the statement, too. Resuming your businesslike manner, you invited him to follow you.

His eyes roved around your office as the door closed behind the two of you, the large window that made up the upper half allowing you to see people passing by outside. You felt a flicker of self-consciousness that surprised you as the faintest of smiles ghosted across his face at the sight of the many knick-knacks, memorabilia, and images that filled your walls. Past and present animals, with and without their owners, were peppered between what seemed like everything you had ever loved. But why should you care what some random trooper thought? You cleared your throat.

“So… You’re looking for a large dog ‘or something equally badass’?” you asked, reading off your datapad.

“Yeah,” he said, simultaneously proud yet a little unsure at his answer now that he heard it read back to him. “I just thought it’d be… nice. I’ve heard good stuff. Brothers seem to like their pets.”

“Many of them do, yes,” you agreed.

“At least the ones that can’t land a girl,” he scoffed, laughing and nodding at you as though you’d wholeheartedly agree. You didn’t, and stared at him for a moment before deciding to let that one go.

“The process might sound extensive, but the animals actually have a lot of nuance and personality, so we like to get to know our clients as well as possible so that we can find the best fit.”

“Ugh. You and the matchmaking people,” he blurted, pressing his lips together immediately. You realized he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Now you were torn about calling him out on it or not. Maybe feel him out a bit more first.

“Yes, it is essentially matchmaking,” you grinned. “Many of these animals will be with you for a good portion of your life, so they do become a beloved partner in a way. Just don’t have sex with them.”

He guffawed so loudly he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes large at the unrefined sound he’d just made. You couldn’t resist a chuckle at that one yourself. You did have a bawdy sense of humor at times, but it wasn’t always received well, so his laughter was a bit gratifying.

“Just need to be clear on everything from the start,” you continued. He was trying and failing to arrange his features into the confident mask he’d worn through the door. You were surprised to find it endearing. But no time for that. “So… tell me about yourself. Your lifestyle. Your personality. Your priorities.”

“Kriff, that’s a lot. I mean… I was a soldier, obviously. Did a lot of wild and awesome things,” he grinned. Ah, back in his element. “Basically saved the galaxy. You know. You can show your gratitude in a variety of ways if you feel so inclined.” He ran a head over his bald head, leaning back to manspread a bit more on the other side of your desk.

You didn’t know what to say, but apparently your face said it all.

“Anyway…” He coughed, then continued. “Now I’m apparently just a regular old person with a job and an apartment and a whole exciting life ahead of me…” A flicker of something crossed his face; you weren’t sure what it was, but you were suddenly quite intrigued. He moved on quickly, however. “So nowadays I work as a personal trainer at Dwight Schrute’s Gym for Muscles. Mostly afternoon and evening shifts. Cause I like to sleep in… After long nights, you know? Ahah.”

“I bet,” you murmured, swiping on the datapad screen.

“I can tell you’re impressed,” he chuckled. You stared at him for a moment, unable to tell if he were being serious or not. “It’s okay, it happens to everyone.” Gods above, he was being serious.

“I am… quite stunned,” you said, meaning every word.

“Well don’t worry, I’ll pick you up if you faint.”

“Mm. Thanks.”

“Nothing any hero wouldn’t do.”

“Naturally.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

You looked up, taken off guard. Why would anyone be asking about your side of things? You were suspicious. “Nothing too exciting. I work here. Annnnd that’s about it. So you’d say you’re pretty active… Are you able to get outdoors a lot? If a pet needed a decent amount of exercise? Considering your sleep schedule, a crepuscular animal might be a good fit.”

“No crabs, lady,” he said, shaking his head and putting both hands in the air. “I’ve avoided those all my life and I’m not about to start now.”

“Crabs?” you echoed, confused for a moment before it dawned on you. “Oh… Not crustaceous,” you clarified, biting back a giggle. “Crepuscular means animals that are most active in the twilight hours, so dawn or dusk. I suppose you’re not up early, but you mentioned a roommate? If they were able to give it a little attention in the early hours, you’d be on evening duty.”

“Alright,” he nodded, toning it down a bit. “I thought Massiffs were daytime animals though.”

“They are. I don’t think that would be the best fit for you, though.”

He looked affronted, “You think you know me already?” A flash of a grin, both cocky and insecure.

“No,” you smiled. “But I know our animals, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading vibes.”

“Vibes?” he echoed, making no attempt to hide the condescension in his voice.

“Energy, personality, whatever you want to call it. I’m good at pairing.”

“Ah, so you must have an amazing boyfriend then, eh?” he jabbed, unaware of the territory he was wandering into. The sharp look on your face gave him some clue, though, so he tried to correct. “Er, girlfriend? A theydey or gentlethem?” Then he gasped, forcing a conspiratorial look onto his face. “Is it even human?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absolute ridiculousness. Where did he get the audacity? He was probably expecting you to be overwhelmed or impressed or have some kind of diminutive response. But that wasn’t quite what you were feeling at the moment.

“Actually,” you said, imitating his tone, “it’s a rancor.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, only this time it was authentic delight and surprise instead of the cocky little “ahah”s you’d been getting so far. You were grinning without meaning to, momentarily pleased by the awe on his face. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, wagging a finger at you. “So you like it freaky.”

“I actually haven’t been on a decent date in over a year now,” you deadpanned, relishing the shock that replaced his swagger. He legitimately didn’t know what to do with that, and that felt wildly satisfying. “Anyway, that’s all I really need for today. The receptionist will book your next appointment on your way out.”

He was too speechless to craft any sort of cocky response as he shuffled out of the room.

* * *

“This place is LOUD!” you yelled to your friend over the music. You’d finally caved at her incessant requests to go to 79s, and after hours of fretting over what to wear and how to do your hair, since you were mostly used to work attire and a ponytail, you were there. You’d opted for a simple black dress but had left your hair down since you wouldn’t be surrounded by animals for a change, although your friend had laughed and said that’s exactly what you’d be surrounded by.

“You’ll get used to it!” she yelled back, waving enthusiastically at a table of troopers that she apparently seemed to be familiar with. A few of them howled back, beckoning her over, but she pointed at the bar first, and a few of them pushed past one another to meet her there. It was odd to see them all gathered in one place without their armor. Since the Clone Rights and Personhood Act had passed, they had no need for anything other than civilian clothing anymore, but it was still unique to see so many people with the same face. Granted, they all had their own unique style and approach to individuality, but you just weren’t used to all of it quite yet.

Your friend dragged you to the bar counter along with the troopers, each one wearing a different t-shirt over some plain jeans, and the flirting began immediately. You stood behind the group, squinting to try to make out what was on the menu. The choices were fairly slim… a couple of cocktails or some very watered-down beer, or so you’d heard. Maybe you’d just stick with water tonight.

Or so you thought.

Two hours later, you were completely drunk, having given in to multiple offers of drinks and dances, and your face was flushed red from the thrill of it all. It was quite unlike you, but you didn’t care. The troopers were adorable and endearing, and you were having an absolute blast learning so many names, dancing like a crazy person, and enjoying the shenanigans of the rowdy bunch. A naval officer currently had his hands on your hips, a gleeful grin on his face as the two of you rocked to the music. You’d been self conscious at first about dancing for all of two minutes, but the clones didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to have fun, and you’d quickly found yourself caught up in the joy of it all.

You were tiring quickly though, having danced for almost an hour straight, and you thanked your partner before heading off to the side, leaning against the wall and fanning yourself for a minute. Touching your hands to your cheeks, you giggled at how hot they were. You felt so pleasantly bubbly, just a little dizzy, warm and fuzzy inside, and absolutely delighted with anything and everything.

“Well well well. Didn’t expect to see you here.” A clone had appeared at your side, immediately recognizable by the giant Republic cog tattoo across his face.

“Jesse!” you yelled, flinging your arms open and throwing yourself at him for a hug. He stepped back, surprised, and lightly touched your back before you pulled back to regard him fondly. “This place is great!!”

He chuckled, eyebrows furrowed at the shocking departure from what he’d seen of your personality at the animal shelter. “Yeah, I mean… You alright?” he tilted his head as you giggled, smacking his chest playfully.

“SO GOOD!” you squawked, hand sliding up to his shoulder, then down his arm. You gave it a squeeze, then dropped your hand. “Damn, lookin good, trooper. What are you doing?”

“Just… hanging out,” he grinned. “You lookin for some fun?”

“I seem to have found it!” You waggled your eyebrows, stepping closer and toying with his waist. “This place is great!”

“Yeah, you said that,” he laughed. “Want to dance?”

“Hellz to the yeah!” And you started dancing right there, swinging your hair around like your life depended on it.

“Wow… Okay… Let’s get you some water first,” he suggested, now torn between concern and delight.

“Water is for boglings!” you squawked, grabbing his hand and doing your best to drag him to the dance floor. But he was significantly larger than you, and he tugged you right back. You collided with his broad chest and looked up at him indignantly.

“Water first,” he insisted, tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, swatting at his hand. “But fine... if it means I get to grind on those juicy thighs!”

“Deal,” he grinned.

You gulped down the pathetic cup of water he’d been able to wrangle from the bartender, then the two of you hit the dance floor. Whether it was all the pent-up energy you’d choked down from your disappointing dates or just the sheer intoxication of… well… being intoxicated, you were happy to let loose. Jesse was smooth and strong all at once, hands growing heavier on your body as you writhed against him, and you reached an arm up to cup the back of his neck. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your neck, and hot fireworks exploded throughout your core as you continued to sway together.

“Want to get out of here?” you yelled, turning around to face him and gliding your hands down his front. Your hair was scattered across your shoulders, cheeks bright red on either side of a dumb grin, and he swallowed. His gaze darkened for a moment, and he pulled you a little closer, cupping your face and meeting your eyes with undeniable desire. But he looked at you for a moment longer, and his shoulders slumped a tiny bit.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“No, I meant to bang!” you pressed, laughing in complete disregard.

“I know...” he chuckled, taking your arm and steering you toward the door. "I know."

* * *

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a sick stomach. You sank your face into your hands, groaning at your desk as you tried to read the datapad with bleary eyes. Only a few appointments today, thank the Maker. Cleaning the animal kennels had nearly made you throw up, so a quiet day of desk work was about all you could handle before crawling back home to your bed. Your friend who'd taken you to 79s had commed you far too early in the morning, gleefully informing you that you’d been “off the hook”, and while you’d dreaded the answer to your the question you had for her, she’d assured you that you’d messaged her upon arriving at home and that you went to bed alone.

Whatever else had happened, you couldn’t remember. At least you didn’t have to get tested for "crepusculars", you chuckled to yourself.

A light knock on your door rang loudly in your ears, and you squinted through your window at the receptionist, who was waving with far too bright a smile for the ungodly hour of 10am. She jerked her head behind her, giving you a not-too-subtle thumbs up as she opened your door and ushered in the cocky clone from a couple days ago. Something about him looked different though… Your wracked your brain but came up with nothing other than an unsettled feeling. Maybe you’d had a dirty dream about him… it wouldn’t be the first time some random client had popped up while you slept. Either way, you felt your cheeks redden slightly as he stepped into your office, the door closing behind him. Only when he sat in the chair on the other side of your desk did you notice that he had two smoothies in his hands, one of which he slid across to you.

“Good morning,” he grinned, and your stomach dropped as you realized he seemed to know something you didn’t.

“Morning…” you said suspiciously, taking the smoothie and inspecting it before looking back at him. “What’s this?”

“It’s a lil somethin from the gym I work at… All kinds of healthy crap in it… But it’s supposedly great for hangovers.”

You stared, heart sinking in your chest. What had you done…

“So,” he continued briskly, all business and innocence. “What’s the next step? Meeting some animals today?”

“Yes…” you said slowly, entirely unsure of how to move on. You were kicking yourself for having been so careless… You were never the type to drink so much that you couldn’t remember. But you’d felt safe and had been so buoyed by the infectious atmosphere… Regardless, there was work to be done, and you turned to your datapad to avoid his eyes. “There are a few different options that I had in mind after reviewing your file…”

“Is that what you call it…” he murmured, causing you to jerk your head up so fast that it throbbed. You winced, rubbing your temples and taking a sip of the smoothie. It was surprisingly refreshing, and you took a few more gulps, staring at him skeptically.

“Alright,” you snapped, equally indignant and resigned. “Out with it.”

“With what?” His angelic smile made your heart skip a beat, which further added to your confusion.

“Whatever you’re gloating about.”

“You just seem so… professional in here…” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his own smoothie before putting it down with a flourish.

“And…?”

“And a little more laid back when you were grinding on me like your life depended on it last night.”

You were stunned into silence, mouth falling open a little bit as you stared at him, speechless. You couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even your type. Plus, you doubt he would have let you go home alone if you’d done what he was accusing you of.

“You’re lying.”

“Mmkay,” he shrugged. Somehow that made you even more incensed.

“So what else happened?” you challenged, lifting your chin a little bit.

“Drinks and dancing. You really like to fling your hair around,” he chuckled. “Then I walked you home.”

“And?” you squinted.

“And that’s it. You said you could make it up to your apartment. Did you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved that your report to your friend had been accurate. But it struck you as odd. Wouldn’t he be the type to take advantage of your momentary lapse in judgment?

“But if you still want to ‘bang’, as you put it, I’d be happy to oblige.” He folded his arms behind his head, showing off his muscles and arching an eyebrow at you, unfazed by your grimace and audible groan.

“Did I really say that?” You didn’t even really want to know the answer.

“Mhm. Didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

“Kriff,” you muttered under your breath. Why did it have to be him? Of all the troopers in that Maker-forsaken bar… This was beyond repair. “I’m gonna have my colleague Tosak take your case,” you said suddenly, rising to your feet and grabbing your datapad. “He’ll be able to pick up where we left off and you should be able to take your animal home by the end of the week.”

“Wait, why?” Jesse stood up quickly, dropping the cocky facade immediately.

“You expect me to be professional after that?”

“No,” he answered bluntly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Exactly,” you sighed, the flicker of a smile touching your cheeks. “It’ll be better this way.” You slipped out the door, once again leaving him in your office, mouth slightly open with a million different things to say.

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euphorajeon · 10 hours

Note

For 1k celebration! How about my time and jungkook with it??

Also congratulations my love 💖

opposite of sun

— request: jeongguk + my time - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 1.8k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst (it's rly mild i promise!), they're best friends (i rly gotta stop writing this trope,,,)

— summary: jeongguk has a peculiar way of dealing with time difference.

— author's note: hello luv! thanks for requesting :) i really enjoyed writing this one eheh i hope you enjoy reading it too~

masterlist

There are a few things Jeon Jeongguk does not like about his life as a singer.

One, that constantly looms above his head, is how busy his schedule is. His days are filled to the brim with performing, song recording, photoshoots, video shoots, company meetings, and a long list of things in between. Some days, he could barely stay awake. Some days, he forgot the last time he ate. Some days don’t feel like days because all he saw was the inside of a building. Some days he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Two, the lack of privacy. There’s always someone watching his every move, waiting for him to fuck up. This extends to his closest people as well, his parents, his brother, even his non-famous best friend, you. Jeongguk could not forget the time he accidentally revealed he has a long-time girl best friend on a livestream. The media went crazy, trying to make headlines that would cause the most noise with wild rumors and assumptions. It took the PR team almost a month to divert the media attention to something else, along with a livestream ban for Jeongguk for three months.

Three, the one he’s facing right now, is time difference. As a singer, Jeongguk travels a lot to other time zones outside of KST, oftentimes resulting in jetlag. It’s not too troublesome when he visits another Asian country, the time difference only one to two hours, but when he’s on the other side of the world like now, it feels like his whole world is a jumbled mess.

Jeongguk plops down on the couch in his hotel room, glancing at the clock on his phone screen before tapping the FaceTime button. His reflection stares back at him as the call rings, the only thing visible on the screen just his eyes and sweaty strands of hair. He’s running his fingers through his damp hair when the call finally connects.

“Sorry, sorry! I— wow, eyes. And forehead,” you say in lieu of a proper greeting. Jeongguk grins, even though you can’t see it.

“Hi, Bun,” he greets. “Whatcha doin’?”

Jeongguk’s nickname for you is fairly new, only conjured up after his accidental slip on livestream, but it rolls off his tongue easily as if he’s been calling you Bun since you were both thirteen, when your friendship first started. It stems from his fear that anything has ears and if he says your name, someone somewhere could use it to dig up information about you. Although you’d rolled your eyes at him the first time, he knows you appreciate the thought.

Also, contrary to your friends’ beliefs, bun here stands for bread, not bunny. It’s known to the people who know you that you love bread. Steamed bun, milk bun, melon bbang, chocolate bread, cheese sticks, anything. But despite this knowledge and your protests, your friends still hoot in teasing whenever Jeongguk video calls you and drops the nickname. Jeongguk tries to prevent his grin from blossoming more when he sees you pretending to ignore your friends’ teasing.

“Studying,” you answer with a roll of your eyes, before a grin matching the one on Jeongguk’s face overtakes your feature. “What about you, superstar? Bet it’s more exciting than…” you glance at the paper in front of you, “the study of the economic impact of singer Jeon Jeongguk on South Korea.”

Jeongguk laughs. “You are not studying about my economic impact on SK.”

You hold up a finger, snatching the paper off the table to shove it into your phone camera. Then the pair of your eyes appear above said paper, hogging Jeongguk’s screen much like his eyes are hogging yours. “Read, Jeon Jeongguk. Read,” you say menacingly.

The words on your paper blur in his sight as he focuses more on the dark bags under your eyes. Even through a shitty video call connection, it’s apparent that you haven’t had a good rest for some time.

“Bun, have you been sleeping okay?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you stare at him like he has three heads. “Jeon, I’m a college student. Asking me that at two AM is like asking you if you’re resting okay.”

Jeongguk sits up from his leaning back position on the couch, alarmed. “It’s two AM over there? It’s— fuck, it’s two AM. What are you doing still studying, Bun? You should be sleeping right now.”

All the exhaustion he felt from the flight, the jetlag, the rehearsal right after just evaporates the moment he realizes you’re still studying in the hour you should be sleeping. He should’ve been there with you, studying and reminding you to get some rest when the hours got late. He wishes he were there next to you.

“He’s a celebrity so he wouldn’t know what this feels like, huh?”

That was one of your friends, off camera. It sounds a bit distant but Jeongguk caught his words perfectly. Although he’s not wrong, Jeongguk could feel bitterness rising in his chest, one he fights so hard to suppress lest this causes a fight between you and him.

“Sorry, Jeon, he’s just stressed about the midterms. Don’t take it to heart, yeah?”

Jeongguk forces a smile on his lips, one tight pull of muscle that’s far from his grin earlier. “No, he’s right. I wouldn’t know how it feels like being stressed about the midterms just like he wouldn’t know how it feels rehearsing for a performance only an hour after you landed in New York. It’s okay.”

Ah, the bitterness still slips out. He’s tired. He feels guilt slowly replace the bitterness when he sees your downcast eyes. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Fuck.

“Sorry, Bun. Not your fault.” He sighs.

“It’s fine. We’re all tired.” You give him a small smile. “You said you were rehearsing for a performance? What performance?”

“Surprise performance, actually. It’ll be in Times Square later at six.”

There’s a gasp from your side of the call, before a short squeal is heard. You glance at someone behind your phone, letting out a chuckle. “You just spoiled a surprise performance to a very excited Yeseo,” you say.

“Since when do your friends listen to my songs?” Jeongguk laughs disbelievingly. He knows your college friends by name, and as far as he does, no one in your friend group actually listens to his songs enough to get excited at the prospect of a surprise performance.

“Last week. She heard ‘Yes or No’ when I was going through your album and hasn’t shut up about it since.”

“Thanks, Yeseo,” Jeongguk says. “It’s on the setlist for the performance later.”

A bang on the table. Then Yeseo’s excited shriek sounds, making your other friends on the table groan. Tell your boyfriend to shut up! one of them says. You stuck your tongue out at whoever it was before getting up from your seat, taking your phone with you. The image of you from a low angle as you walk away from your friends almost makes Jeongguk chuckle. He misses being able to see your double chin live in front of his eyes.

“Apologies for Yeseo. She’s very excited,” you say when you’ve settled down somewhere more quiet. “Are you excited for the performance later? Confident?”

“I will be if I know you’re watching,” Jeongguk hums. He fixes his best puppy dog look as he looks at you with so much hope in his eyes. “Will you? It’ll be on YouTube, six PM New York time.”

“That’s … hold on,” you tap around on your phone, the image of you on his screen shaking as you do. “That’s seven AM here in Korea. I’d probably be asleep, though. Midterm’s at nine.”

Jeongguk pouts. “Time difference sucks.”

“It does,” you agree. “But time zones aside, our times are already different. Like, if you have a recording for a music show in Korea at six AM KST, I still wouldn’t be able to attend. Because—“

“That’s why you never come? Because the recording is always early in the morning?”

“No, because they’re always on weekdays. And I have class. Or work. I’m not one of your rich fans, you know.”

“But you’re my best friend,” Jeongguk sulks, his frown deepening.

“Your college student best friend. Who has classes, essays to write, papers to do, midterms, finals…”

Jeongguk is quiet. There’s a pop up notification on his phone, telling him rest time is over in 15 minutes. His manager must’ve set this reminder when he was rehearsing, knowing very well about his tendency to lose track of time when given free time. Suddenly, all your differences flash before his eyes, and it feels like a gaping chasm in your friendship. Did you always feel this far away from him?

“I wish I were a college student too,” he whispers wistfully. “Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“You are, though?” you sound genuinely confused. He doesn’t know if you missed the longing tint in his voice or just decided to ignore it. “You’re still enrolled in Global Cyber University, right?”

“Yeah, but,” Jeongguk sucks in a breath, searching for words that say what he wants to convey without actually saying them. He comes up empty, though, with every combination of words sounding as desperate as the last. Eventually, he settles on: “It’s different.”

“Ey, it’s different to accomodate people like you. No one in their right mind would go to a regular college if they have a schedule as crazy as yours.” You shake your head while waving your hand around, misinterpreting what he means by different. “You know, your fans must be so proud of you. Attending college while performing all around the world.”

“Are you proud of me?” The words tumble out before Jeongguk’s brain can catch up. In hindsight, it’s a normal thing to ask your best friend. But maybe, in the tiny corner of his mind, sits something he doesn’t want to admit yet: maybe he wants more.

“I am,” comes your instant reply. “I always am, Jeongguk.”

In the darkness of the night, under a single lightbulb lighting up your face, Jeongguk sees 15-year-old you, hugging his lanky figure and saying you were proud of him for finally debuting. Your dreams! They have come true! you’d said. Your eyes were shining, hopeful, excited for what’s to come for him. Although you’ve lost the child-like enthusiasm, Jeongguk knows you’ll always support him in anything he does.

Now he’s the one who’s lost. In your eyes, dim with exhaustion but full of warmth still. You have your cheek in your hand, lips moving. The words you’re saying sound like a buzz in his ears, only catching a stray one that’s unusual for your vocabulary: melancholic.

You’re still talking. He doesn’t care.

“Do you want to come to New York?”

Time difference sucks. Jeongguk’s solution?

Get rid of it.

a/n: thank you for reading! requests are still open but pls note it will take time for me to write them all hehe

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #idol!jungkook #1k celebration

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nocturnest · 2 days

Note

Heya sweets❤️

Im always so shy when asking for request 👉🏻👈🏻

I have this story in my head where the reader is Tangerines and Lemons Handler. Lemon adores reader. She does everything for them. Always fun and making jokes. Tangerine and reader have a little hate/banter relationship, but both have unresolved feelings for eachother.

And after one near death assignment, reader has to bring out her nursing skills. Stop the bleeding, stitching them back up etc. But reader is so frustrated with the both of them especially Tan. Because she cares for them and obviously loves Tan. And by almost loosing Tangerine brakes her composure and all her feelings come out.

Maybe fluff, maybe some nsfw?

Do with this whatever you like☺️

Have a wonderful day 🥰🫶🏻

hello my lovely friend! so sorry this took a while but i wanted to make sure i did it right! what a wonderful prompt - i love this idea! please enjoy and feel free to continue sending requests! 🥰

You loved the boys - you really did. In fact, it was hard to imagine a time when they hadn't been a part of your life, a constant presence that grounded you and brought both joy and exasperation in equal measure.

For five years now, you had been their handler, guiding them through missions, patching them up when they were injured, and providing a steady anchor amidst the chaos that seemed to follow them wherever they went. What had once been a professional relationship had slowly evolved into something far deeper - and when it came to a certain British fruit with a mustache, you found yourself unable to stay away.

You liked Lemon for his eccentricities and knack for always being able to sense people's intentions. It was remarkable how spot-on he could be on missions. You suppose you could thank his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine for that...

Lemon, with his eccentricities and uncanny ability to read people's intentions, was a constant source of amusement and admiration. You marveled at how spot-on he could be during missions, his insights often proving invaluable – a skill you jokingly attributed to his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine.

Just the other day you had happily entertained one of Lemon's rants about Thomas and Friends over earpiece for a good fifteen minutes just to see how long it would take for Tangerine to lose it. And he did as soon as you and Lemon started having a serious debate about whether or not Tangerine was a Gordon, to which Tangerine did not take kindly to. He insisted he was not anything near close to "that arrogant bastard of a train."

You could hear the utter frustration and offense in his voice, his mutterings of various curses, and you imagined how he must have looked all riled up - to the point that all you wanted was to see his face at that very moment.

Lemon was so honestly sweet - always playful. He always asked you about your day and remembered the smallest things about you. He also knew exactly what to do to push Tangerine's buttons, which you couldn't help but find amusing. Beneath his quirks was a true heart of gold, for he never failed to coax a smile out of you, no matter how bleak the circumstance.

And Tangerine - well, he was Tangerine. He was complicated, to say the least, and you couldn't imagine him as being anything else. Since the beginning, there had been this tension between the two of you - at first, the two of you were at each other's throats - swapping insults and cursing at one other. Lemon may have had to intervene on more than one occasion to get the two of you to snap out of it.

Something, changed though - not significantly but enough for you to notice. You suspect it had something to do with a very long-ass conversation Lemon had with Tangerine after a taxing mission that nearly cost them their lives. When you had picked the both of them up, Tangerine and Lemon had their raincoats covered in blood. For someone who was so vocal, so uptight, Tangerine was positively silent after that mission. He didn't insult you back and barely responded with anything other than one-word utterances - it was unnerving, concerning even.

You didn't like it. You didn't like seeing Tangerine so solemn, so hopeless. You were driving the car in utter silence and at some point Lemon had fallen asleep, or so you thought... Tangerine was in the passenger's seat beside you with a blank stare - he wasn't even looking out the window. No, he just looked straight on at the empty road ahead.

He had a cut on his forehead and a split lip, dried blood stains running down the side of his face. Without looking down, he was taking his golden knuckle-dusters on and off. You had half of a mind to reach out and steady his trembling hands as you were driving, but you were afraid perhaps of how he might react. And yet, despite all of this, you thought he looked as beautiful as you had ever seen him.

You called his name, cautiously and quietly. He didn't respond. You tried once more and he didn't give any impression that he had heard you. You had to do something. Anything to get him out of this stupor. So, maybe when you thought Lemon wasn't listening and had fallen asleep in the back of the car, you had started going off on some tangent about having finally read some of the novels Tangerine kept on going on and on about.

You mentioned his favorites: Wuthering Heights, The Stranger, Fahrenheit 451... Because if there was anything you knew about Tangerine, it's that he was passionate about classics to the point that he even quoted and analyzed fucking Dostoveksy in the middle of a kill on multiple occasions. Maybe the fact that you and him were both quite the book nerds actually made him all the more attractive to you.

As you continued to ramble about the novels you had read that Tangerine was so passionate about, the air in the car grew thick with tension, the silence punctuated only by the steady hum of the engine.

You didn't dare look at him - part of you didn't really expect him to listen. So instead, you kept your gaze focused on the empty road ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel as you spoke.

"I finally got around to reading 'Fahrenheit 451, you know," you began, your voice soft and measured. "I have to say, I can see why you're so taken with it. It's simply written yet so applicable to modern society and the dangers of censorship. It truly makes one think about what it would mean to live in a world without literature."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tangerine's head turn ever so slightly in your direction, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to process your words.

Emboldened by this flicker of response, you continued. "And I hadn't read The Stranger in a good while but it resonated with me particularly deeply this second time, Camus' exploration of existentialism and the human condition...I was drawn into Meursault's detached perspective, his ability to confront the harsh realities of life with such unflinching clarity."

A soft exhale, barely audible, escaped Tangerine's lips, and you felt your heart quicken its pace. You were reaching him, slowly but surely, pulling him back from the depths of whatever darkness had consumed him.

"But I think my favorite, at least so far, has to be Wuthering Heights," you continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"The way Brontë captures the rawness of human emotion, the intensity of love and loss – it's truly remarkable. And the relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff - it's passionate," you said, your voice trailing off as you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You could feel Tangerine's gaze on you, intense and searching, waiting for you to continue.

"Cathy and Heathcliff," you began again, your voice soft and contemplative. "They're... they're bound together by something... something powerful and all-consuming. Their love is - it's turbulent, chaotic, but it's also - undeniable."

This time, Tangerine's reaction was unmistakable. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyes seeking out yours, and in that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. His eyes were filled with an indescribable emotion and his whole focus was on you. You met his eyes only to avoid them.

"You read them," he murmured, his voice rough and laced with a hint of disbelief.

You nodded, finally allowing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I did," you replied, your tone gentle. "They're important to you, and I wanted to understand why."

Tangerine's eyes remained locked with yours, his gaze penetrating and unreadable. For a moment, he simply stared, seemingly struggling with the words that threatened to spill forth.

Finally, he spoke, Tangerine's tone measured but with the barest hint of softness bleeding through. "I didn't think you'd actually read them," he admitted, a crease forming between his brows. "Those books...they're important to me. More than just words on a page."

Tangerine turned away, his eyes focusing on some distant point beyond the windshield. You could see the muscle in his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. "I'm surprised you understood them so well," he murmured, the words seeming almost painful for him to voice.

There was a brief silence before Tangerine continued. "I've always had...difficulty...letting people in. Connecting on that deeper level." His fingers drummed against the door restlessly. "But you - you saw right through to the heart of those stories. You truly understood it."

Another pause, this one longer, more weighted. When Tangerine finally spoke again, his words were clipped, guarded - as if he were struggling to maintain that protective wall he'd carefully constructed around himself.

"Don't read too much into it though," he muttered gruffly, shifting in his seat. "They're just books in the end. It doesn't mean anything."

But his eyes told a different story as they flickered back towards you, full of unspoken longing and vulnerability he was so desperately trying to conceal. Your fingers on the steering wheel twitched, practically begging to reach to him, to take his hands in yours, to tell him that you understood. That he didn't have to keep up this facade around you.

For a fleeting second, you saw a glimpse of the real Tangerine - the one who lived and breathed those books, whose soul resonated with the turbulent depths of Heathcliff and Cathy's obsessive love. The one who felt everything so intensely that he was forced to cage those emotions, to push others away for fear of being consumed.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Tangerine straightened, clearing his throat roughly as he turned his attention back towards the empty road ahead. His walls were firmly back in place, that flash of vulnerability carefully tucked away.

"Just drive, Peach," he muttered, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of the rawness you had witnessed mere seconds ago. "We've got a long way to go still."

After that incident, you and him went back to quarreling as usual though it was less heated, more like playful teasing. And you could have sworn Tangerine had started looking at you differently. Sometimes you'd find him gazing at you for a few seconds too long and when you gave him a questioning look back, he avoided your eyes.

Maybe - just maybe - you weren't so immune to giving into the tension between the two of you either. When you tended to the cuts and bruises he accumulated during missions, your touches perhaps lingered a beat too long, savoring the warmth of his skin and the subtle catch of his breath.

And Tangerine, for all his gruffness, could not entirely mask the softening of his features when your gazes met and held for those endless seconds. The pink dusting his sharp cheekbones whenever you aimed a teasing barb his way hinted at vulnerabilities he struggled to conceal behind his prickly exterior.

The friction between the two of you had become undeniable. Every snide remark, every heated debate about classical literature, seemed laced with unresolved tensions that threatened to combust at any moment.

Perhaps it was reckless to allow these flames to be stoked, you mused as you studied Tangerine's profile while he bent over the mission briefing. But there was a thrill in dancing along the precipice, in pushing the limits of how far you could go before that line was finally crossed.

Lemon's knowing glances whenever he sensed the charged atmosphere only fanned the flames further. That grin curving his lips made it clear he found humor in bearing witness to the escalating heat between his two companions. If anyone recognized the forbidden yearnings you each harbored, it was him. And was eager, practically praying for the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and realize your feelings for one another. And that time would come.

The mission had gone sideways in the blink of an eye. One minute they were making their way through the compound, and the next, a hail of gunfire erupted from all angles.

Your heart stopped when the frantic voice crackled over the comms. "Fucking hell - Peach! Tangerine's been hit and he's losing blood!"

Lemon's panicked tones sent ice flooding your veins. You scrambled for the extraction vehicle, hands shaking as you attempted to program the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Bile rose in your throat at the thought of losing him...of losing Tangerine.

What felt like an eternity later, the doors burst open and Lemon staggered inside, half-carrying, half-dragging Tangerine's bloodied form. Your breath caught in your lungs at the sight - his pallid face, the crimson blossoming across his abdomen, soaking through the field dressings haphazardly applied.

"Oh god-" A garbled cry tore from your lips as you rushed forward, hands already working to strip away his tac gear.

Lemon made his way to the front of the vehicle as you were opening every med kit the back of the van contained for gauze and something to stop the blood. Lemon drove anxiously and way over the speed limit.

"Rheneas...you have to be Rheneas," he yelled, the words jumbled as he fought to remain calm. "Brave and resourceful, just like you. You can do this!"

You barely registered his nonsensical Thomas rambling as you focused on staunching the steady flow of blood. Observing the wound critically, you noticed that the bullet had gone straight through but shrapnel had been left behind. You had to start moving before Tangerine bled the fuck out.

Deep breaths, Peach.

“Tangerine,” you murmured, a quiver in your voice. He groaned in response but it seemed as though he was going in and out of consciousness. No. He would not die today.

You tried again, your voice more urgent, desperate, “Tangerine!”

Tangerine's harsh, wet breaths cut through the tense silence, each one a fight for life. His eyes fluttered open, fever-bright and struggling to focus on your face hovering above.

“I have to remove the shrapnel before I can stitch you up, alright? I need you to be strong for me.”

Your hand found Tangerine's, giving his calloused fingers a reassuring squeeze as you met his fever-glazed eyes. "I'm here, Tangerine. Just focus on me, okay?"

He managed the barest dip of his chin in acknowledgment, jaw locked tight against the waves of agony rippling through his battered frame. Steeling yourself, you grasped the forceps with a steadiness that belied the frantic gallop of your pulse.

"Deep breaths," you murmured, the desperation yet softness in your voice slipping out unbidden as your focus narrowed to a laser point.

With deft precision, you delved into the ragged bullet wound, probing for the fragmented pieces of shrapnel lodged amid the tattered flesh. A guttural groan tore from Tangerine's clenched teeth as you worked, his grip on your hand verging on crushing.

"That's it, just hold onto me," you coached, willing every ounce of strength into the man beneath your hands. "You're doing so well, Tangerine. I'm right here."

Tangerine's panting breaths had grown shallow and rapid, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of agony. You watched in rapt focus as a sheen of sweat bloomed across his brow, dampening the tawny strands that stuck in matted clumps to his ashen skin.

Then, with a final twist of the forceps, you carefully pulled free the last insidious fragment. Tangerine arched from the floor, a hoarse bellow tearing from his very core as he rode out the finality of the searing torment.

"Fuckin' hell!"

His hand clenched around yours with crushing force, fingertips digging desperately into your flesh as if you were his only tether in that moment of anguish.

"I've got you, I've got you," you found yourself chanting over the litany of his ragged gasps and Lemon's frantic reassurances over the comms. "You're okay, Tangerine. You're going to be okay."

At last, the tension bled from his corded frame as his body slumped back in total, wrecked exhaustion. His eyes slitted open, still burning with fever but now hazy with shock and blood loss. Tangerine's chapped lips parted soundlessly as his gaze found and locked onto yours with lazer-focus.

For an endless heartbeat, he simply held your stare, a thousand unspoken sentiments and emotions bleeding across the jagged planes of his face.

"Peach..."

The solitary word was little more than a broken rasp, rough and guttural. Yet it contained so much meaning - apologies and promises were woven into that single syllable that hung in the air between you.

Then Tangerine's eyes slipped shut once more as he surrendered at last to oblivion, his hand falling limp yet warm in your grasp. You stared at his deathly still features unblinking, his name echoing like a sacred prayer in your thundering pulse.

"Hang on, Tangerine," you pleaded, voice cracking as you rapidly worked the needle and thread through the ragged wound. "Please - please don't leave me."

Fumbling with the med kit, you quickly threaded a curved needle, hands surprisingly steady despite your inner turmoil. At the front of the vehicle, Lemon continued his soothing chants, something about diesel engines and Sir Topham Hatt, but the words were white noise in your ears. All that mattered was the fragile thread of life you fought so valiantly to preserve through each meticulous stitch. At last, the final knot was tied off and you sagged with sheer physical and emotional exhaustion.

Only then did your own harsh sobs spill forth, harsh and visceral. Burying your face in Tangerine's sweat-damp hair, you clung to him with everything you had, chest heaving with the force of your cries. Tears traced rivers down your cheeks, baptizing his skin with your anguished relief that he yet lived.

At some point Lemon appeared beside you, the door to the van wide open. His soothing hand smoothed circles across your shuddering back as you rode out the storm of emotion. His voice a soft murmur, words of solace about how you were Sir Handel, the reliable, brave-hearted one.

Somehow, Lemon had managed to coax you into helping him carry Tangerine into the safe house. How - you weren't sure because you were in quite a state. And despite Lemon's insistence upon you getting some rest, you swore that you wouldn't leave Tangerine's bedside until he woke up - at which Lemon gave a knowing glance.

At some point, utterly drained, you must have slipped into an exhausted slumber slumped at Tangerine's side. Because the next thing you were aware of was his calloused fingers brushing feather-light against your damp cheek.

You blinked awake groggily to find Tangerine's intense gaze drinking you in as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. His split lips curved in the barest hint of a smile - tired yet impossibly tender.

And that was when the floodgates broke anew. With a harsh sob, you flung yourself against him, face buried in the solid warmth of his neck as you clung with fierce desperation. He was alive - he was alive and with you still.

Tangerine's strong arms enveloped you, holding you impossibly close as his injured body would allow. His lips brushed your hairline in a whisper of a kiss.

"I'm here, love," he rasped, the endearment somehow freighted with a thousand unspoken vows and emotions. "I'm right here. I won't leave you."

Tangerine cradled you against his chest, his fingers tenderly stroking the tear-streaked paths along your cheeks. Each brush of his fingertips was a reassuring caress, a silent vow that he was truly there - battered yet blessedly alive.

"Shh, it's alright now," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but impossibly gentle. "I've got ya."

You nodded tremulously against the solid warmth of his neck, inhaling the achingly familiar scent of gunpowder and sandalwood that was distinctly him. Tangerine's arms tightened fractionally, and you melted deeper into his embrace, drawing solace from the steady thrum of his heart against your cheek.

For a while, the rest of the world seemed to fade away until there was nothing but the rise and fall of his breaths, the reassuring metronome of life woven between your entangled forms.

When at last you drew back enough to meet his gaze, the corners of Tangerine's eyes had softened with an emotion you realized now you'd seen flickering there for longer than you cared to admit - a profound depth of feeling he'd never allowed himself to truly acknowledge until this moment.

His thumb traced the delicate curve of your lower lip with a touch so reverent it stole the very breath from your lungs. "You're something else, ya know that?" The words were little more than a hoarse rasp but held a world of unspoken meaning.

Unable to find your own voice past the tidal wave of emotion surging within, you simply leaned into his touch. This earned you the ghost of a smile, more felt than seen, as Tangerine's fingers slipped into the strands at your nape to cup your head with achingly tender possession.

Then, with agonizing slowness, he drew you towards him until your foreheads rested flush, sharing the same tremulous breaths in the scant space between your parted lips. His eyes slipped closed, seemingly savoring this suspended intimacy in which all masks had fallen away, leaving only the exquisite vulnerability of surrender.

"Tangerine..." you breathed his name like a prayer, pouring every ounce of yearning and relief into that solitary utterance.

His lashes fluttered open at the sound, eyes blazing with an intensity that seared straight through to your soul. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, Tangerine closed that last distance and sealed his mouth over yours in a kiss softer than down yet more searing than any brand.

The world around you seemed to come to a halt as you surrendered to the achingly sweet brush of his lips, to the unbearable tenderness of hands cradling you as if you were the most precious thing on Earth. This was a kiss transcending mere physical desire - it was an awakening, a benediction, a binding of your very essence in that single searing moment of connection.

When at last you parted, foreheads still pressed together, Tangerine's fingers traced idle patterns along the pulse point beneath your jaw in silent worship. His eyes shone with naked vulnerability and something deeper, more profound - the promise of an emotion that would be reckless for either of you to put a name to...not just yet.

But in that moment, no words were necessary. The simmering glances, the heated banter, the pushing of boundaries over the years...it had all led you both inexorably to this point of transcendence.

Lemon's soft chuckle from across the van was enough to shatter the spell momentarily. Catching your eye, he offered a warm, knowing smile - the expression of someone bearing witness to the inevitability that had been unfolding between you and Tangerine from that very first moment of friction.

"Took you two long enough," was all he said, but you heard the oceans of meaning in his affectionate tone.

You laughed wetly in response, reaching out a hand in a silent gesture of inclusion that had Lemon rising to join you both without hesitation. He sat beside you both, grinning as you rolled your eyes at him. Resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder, you allowed your eyes to drift closed in solemn contentment.

Lemon speaks up, a thoughtful expression upon his face, "You know I still think Tangerine's a Gordon - bossy and stubborn..."

Tangerine scowls at that, "I'll have ya know that I am nothing like that fucking cunt-"

"No - I think you are," you begin, smiling cheekily, and Tangerine looks at you, tired to be sure, but with narrowed eyes and slight amusement.

Tangerine opened his mouth, no doubt to protest your cheeky comparison, but you laid a finger across his lips, effectively silencing him.

"Just listen," you murmured, eyes sparkling with impish mirth. "Gordon may be pompous at times, but he's also powerful, regal, depended on by everyone on Sodor."

Sliding your hand to tenderly cup Tangerine's jaw, you held his inscrutable gaze as you continued. "You're our Gordon, Tangerine. Gruff and uncompromising on the outside, but with a core of integrity and fortitude that keeps us all pushing forward, no matter what."

Lemon nodded sagely beside you. "She's right, you know. Why d'you think I give you such a hard time?" He flashed that mischievous grin. "Got to keep that ego of yours in check."

Tangerine scoffed, but you caught the barely perceptible crinkling at the corners of his eyes - the ghost of a smile he couldn't quite suppress. Leaning in, you brushed the faintest whisper of a kiss across the corner of his mouth, savoring the rough rasp of his mustache.

"Don't worry, Mr. Gordon," you teased lowly. "We all know there's a big softy beneath that gruff exterior."

A low rumbling sound akin to a contented purr vibrated from deep within Tangerine's chest as he nuzzled his nose against your temple. "Keep that cheek up and you'll see just how soft I can be, darlin'."

The heated undertone in his gravelly timbre raised a delicious frisson along your skin. You bit your lip, holding back a breathless giggle at his not-so-thinly veiled innuendo.

"Well now, I do believe that's my cue to make myself scarce," Lemon piped up, winking broadly as he levered himself up with a dramatic groan. "You two kids have fun. But not too much fun - we've got that briefing at 19:00 sharp."

His departure was punctuated by a rude hand gesture from Tangerine, which only made Lemon's wheezing laughter echo more loudly. You watched him go with a fond shake of your head, savoring the warmth and levity he'd brought to the tender moment.

Then you turned your full attention back to Tangerine, trailing light fingertips along the stark lines and cuts that mapped his beloved face. His gaze caught and held yours, open and vulnerable in a way you'd never seen before - the mask utterly discarded.

"So...Mr. Gordon," you murmured, lips curving. "What shall we do while we've got some privacy?"

Tangerine's hand caressed your jaw, slowly bringing your foreheads together with unexpected gentleness. When at last he spoke, his deep baritone caressed your very soul.

"How about you tell me another story about your favorite trains? I could use a refresher on just why Gordon's supposed to be so bloody remarkable."

You laughed then, bright and unfettered, at the unexpected softness cloaking his rough-hewn edges. Throwing your arms around him, you held on tightly, your face in his neck, all awash with a sense of rightness and belonging that you'd struggled to find for far too long.

@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud @pretty-little-mind33 i really hope you guys enjoy!

#bullet train #tangerine #bullet train movie #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine fanfiction #lemon bullet train #tangerine imagine #x reader #reader insert #tangerine fic #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 2 days

Text

Harry doesn’t handle it very well, the first day he and Voldemort spend apart.

When he wakes that morning, Voldemort is up and putting on robes much more elegant than any he’s worn since their capture. He’s going to meet with his Death Eaters – he says as much, but Harry had already guessed. No need to dress up and stand on ceremony with someone who’s seen you piss in a bucket.

Harry follows him silently to the library Floo. Voldemort grabs a handful of powder and looks as though he will leave just like that, but at the last minute he goes still.

Facing away from Harry, voice neutral and even, he says, “I will return.”

Harry nods, then makes some vague sound of assent when he realises Voldemort can’t see him. And then the Dark Lord is gone.

He should do one of the many things he’d thought of doing while they were in that cell. Write to Ron and Hermione or other friends and Order members. Go outside and enjoy the sunshine (well, what sunshine there is on a grey autumn day) and fresh air. Eat and drink whatever and as much as he likes.

He drops into a nearby chair and stares at the empty fireplace, hugging his legs to his chest.

It’s fine, he’s fine, Voldemort’s probably fine.

Probably.

Harry tries to remind himself that he’d known whenever Voldemort was being tortured – he could feel echoes through their connection. He would know if something was wrong. The only things he can feel through the bond are mild irritation (which Harry, having dealt with the Death Eaters before, can fully understand) and satisfaction (Nagini, his mind whispers).

Nothing to worry about there.

Harry starts plucking at the chair’s upholstery.

When Voldemort returns later that afternoon, he nearly trips over Harry as he exits the fireplace.

To save the chair from his anxious destruction, Harry had eventually trekked to the kitchen and baked enough bread to feed an army. Channelling his stress into the dough had helped keep him somewhat calm, but he’s pretty sure he overworked a few loaves. That had occupied a few hours, but he’d been too wound up to eat anything, so he’d returned empty-stomached to the library to wait.

And that’s where Voldemort finds him, seated on the hearth, dusted with flour and soot, halfheartedly pretending to read a book and about ready to storm Malfoy Manor or wherever the Death Eaters gather to make sure the Dark Lord is all right.

Which – Harry squints up at him consideringly – he is.

The look on Voldemort’s face is… actually quite funny, were Harry not as strung out as an addict kept from their substance of choice. He’d be more upset about that if Voldemort didn’t look as though their separation had strained him, too.

“Welcome back,” Harry says as he dusts himself off. Might as well sweep the past few hours of losing his mind under the rug and ignore their many, many issues – they’ll be there whenever he’s forced to confront them.

Voldemort is on board for pretending they’re functioning human beings, thankfully. “I’ve brought Nagini.”

And so he has. The four-metre long snake, wrapped around the older man’s torso, peeks her head up from his shoulder at her name.

Harry only hopes his words come out in Parseltongue. “Hello there.”

She rears back slightly, apparently not expecting him to speak her language. “Hatchling. Master says I’m not to eat you anymore.”

“How kind of him,” he says dryly. She hisses in agreement, not catching the sarcasm.

Voldemort unwinds her and sets her on the floor next to Harry. “I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” he says as he heads towards the library door. “No biting.”

“You would bite Nagini?” she asks warily, coiling away from him. Dammit, Voldemort.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he attempts to reassure. “Your scales are, uh, much too beautiful for me to want to damage them.”

Appeased, she wriggles proudly. “Aren’t they?”

She shifts closer to him, butting her head into his hand. “You should express more appreciation for Nagini’s beautiful scales.”

He’s not entirely sure, but he thinks the giant murder snake is telling him to pet her. He rubs gently along Nagini’s chin and body, drawing contented noises from her. He murmurs some nonsense about how lovely her colouring is and she somehow manoeuvres the majority of her body into his lap and around him, praising him for his warmth. It’s, unexpectedly, really nice.

“Why,” Voldemort calls from the doorway, sounding just the tiniest bit perplexed. “Are there two dozen loaves of bread?”

Whoops.

(A long, hard road)

#codependent trauma buddies #harry potter #voldemort #harrymort #nagini #fic snippet #ALHR #post-VII

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midnight-black2 · 1 day

Note

im really okay with this being published on may. since its farleigh start related. but...

shy and nerdy dom!reader and farleigh start in oxford. where farleigh takes an interest on reader since they look absolutely innocent and cute. so he tries his hardest to get her in bed with him. which bites him on the ass bcos reader is a dom LMAO really caring tho. which kinda pulls on farleigh's heartstrings a bit 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 yk "youre the only person to do this for me" kind of trope but after hard core sex (im kidding... unless)

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

pairing : farleigh start x reader

synopsis : read the req !!

disclaimers : sub!farleigh, dom!reader, smut with plot, fem!reader, kind of like degrading praise, p in v (imaginary condom, let's just pretend they had one bc i forgot to write it in), handjob (m!recieving), etc

note : since i waited so long to post this, i wanted to make it worth the while. enjoy 🫶🫶

for a college girl, her behavior was...curious, to say the least. she was oddly quiet; stuck to herself mostly. she had a few friends, if you could really call them that. for the most part, she was nowhere to be found, and that's exactly how she preferred it.

you couldn't find her at parties, or outings, or pubs. if you really wanted to speak with her, you would have to go to the very back of the library, where she would be sat at a desk, reading some book or doing homework. it didn't matter, though. the main reason people wanted to meet with her was a matter of tutoring, and most people at oxford didn't necessarily need tutoring.

for the most part, she was unbothered. until, farleigh start walked into her life. polar opposites, they were. when he had asked a counselor who the best person to tutor him would be, they had guided him to Y/N. and so, on a thursday evening, (7:43 pm to be exact), farleigh found you in the back of the school library, reading as you ate an apple as quietly as possible as not to disturb others.

he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. your hair pulled back into a low bun, a few strands sticking out. you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose as your eyes chased the words on the book pages violently quick. he furrowed his brows, with a confused grin. he didn't expect you to be so cute.

"are you...Y/N L/N?" he queried. you were seemingly startled, which made him chuckle to himself. your face twisted into an expression of utter bewilderment.

"yes...why do you ask?" you question, reluctantly.

"i was told to come see you..." he said, in a daze. after a few seconds of silence (and more confusion on your face) he broke from his reveries, and cleared his throat. he smiled, glanced at the ground, before his eyes trailed back up to yours. "i need tutoring."

you nodded, and slipped a bookmark in your book, before pushing it to the side. you took one last bite from your apple, before sitting up, walking to the trash, and throwing it away. once you sat back down, you tucked the unruly strands of hair behind your ears, before patting the empty seat to the right of you.

"do sit," you instructed, face calm and emotionless. and so, he sat beside you, his bright and rather bold choice of clothing almost looking ridiculous next to your dull browns and blacks. the juxtaposition was comical. "so is there particular homework you need help with? or would you simply like me to look through work you don't understand or...?" he smiled amiably, before nodding.

"i need help with some math homework," he replied, before digging through his backpack. you waited patiently, before he eventually set down two packets of homework on the table. you mentally sighed. you didn't quite feel up for the task, but he seemed nice, and you didn't want to let him down either.

"specific questions? or the whole thing?" you asked.

"the whole thing." okay so maybe he was fibbing. maybe he only said the whole packet so he could spend more time with you. so? so what? it's not like a little white lie ever hurt anyone. you took the first packet, and flipped through it. to your advantage, it looked fairly easy.

you began to explain the first problem, but he was hardly listening. you were solving it completely on your own, and whenever you would ask if he understood, he would form some distant "mhm" as a way of saying yes. you realized at some point, though. you realized this entire time (five minutes and twenty-eight seconds in fact--you had been watching the clock out of your peripheral) he wasn't looking at the paper, but you. you slowly turned to face him, and your cheeks became a rosy red, only slightly noticeable, but there.

"are you alright?" you asked, swallowing dryly. he nodded.

"yeah, sorry, you're just...you're so pretty. has anyone ever told you that?" he answered, gazing at you.

"uhm, no, not that i can remember," you said back. he laughed at that. he found you endearing, even charming, in your own unconventional way.

soon enough, one hour and fifty-eight minutes had passed (again, you had been glancing at the clock every now and then) and you finally made it through both math packets. you two began cleaning up, and packing your things.

"just so you know, i won't charge you this time, but any further sessions will be twenty dollars by the hour," you stated, matter-of-factly, as you placed your things inside your bag.

"wow, and here i was thinking you were doing this out of the kindness of your heart," he said, playfully. you smiled. it was a small one, but you still smiled.

"nope. everything i do has a catch," you said, matching his tone. and boy did he wish he would've remembered that...

after that, you two kept meeting. it wasn't intentional, but the world always seemed to place you two in the same spot at the same time. the interactions didn't differ from that of the one in the library. he was always flattering you, or finding a way to make you blush, and he found you incredibly cute. so much so, that he was determined to discover you. in other words--he wanted you under his bedsheets. so when one of your acquaintances, luna, had practically dragged you to some frat party saying it would "be good for you to get out," you weren't surprised to see him there.

he always seemed to creep up on you. you had turned around and were met with him, towering over you with that same complacent grin he always wore.

"is this real life? am i actually seeing Y/N L/N at a frat party? oh god, pinch me," he said, in a dramatic high-pitched voice. he described it as if it were a crime, and it was almost like it was. you smiled, and shook your head.

"yes, i'm actually here, though against my will," you responded, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced at your friend who had found oxfords heartthrob, felix, and occupied herself with him. farleigh chuckled, as he kept his eyes trained on you.

"you look good, Y/N," he said, and, he was right, you did look good. your hair was--for once--out of its usual bun and falling down your shoulders gracefully. you had on a bit of eyeliner, and some lipstick which was the most makeup you'd worn all year. you were wearing a short long sleeved black dress. it was casual, but it looked so strikingly gorgeous on you. farleigh ran his eyes along your body, he certainly wasn't subtle, although he never has been.

"you make it quite clear," you said, with a brow quirk, as you swallowed. his eyes met yours again, a smirk forming on his face.

"good," he replied. there it was, he always seemed to reply just as quick as you did, there was no thought or effort, he simply matched your wit. he was the first person you had met to do so. then again, you hadn't met many people at oxford, so perhaps the judgement wasn't very fair.

"don't your, er, a thousand girlfriends await you?" you teased, crossing your arms across your chest. he raised his brows dramatically, with a gasp. it was sarcastic, you knew that much. you laughed.

"sure, girl friends, space between the words," he corrected, sassily.

"well excuse me then."

"yes, excuse you," he said back, tilting his head to the side. you smiled, before you caught luna chugging down alcohol you were pretty sure was either spiked, or someone else's.

"no literally, excuse me. i think my friend over there needs a bit of assistance. jesus, not even ten minutes here and she's already getting trashed," you said. he looked behind him, and saw luna stumbling and screaming. he laughed, and let you go.

after the whole luna situation was taken care of, you were pooped. which sucked, because surprisingly, in the ten minutes you had been talking with farleigh, you were enjoying yourself immensely. a lot people had cleared out, leaving the house more quiet than before. luna didn't want to leave quite yet, which was unfortunate for you since she was your ride here. luckily, though, you had planned for this and brought a book for entertainment. you just read the book as she flirted her way into guys lives. to your surprise, you heard an all too familiar voice speak from behind you.

"are you seriously reading a book at a party? you're such a dork," farleigh said, leaning over your shoulder.

"maybe i am. but it's more interesting than watching luna flirt with uncomfortable guys all night," you replied, flipping the page. he chuckled.

"fair," he began. "you know, i can think of more fun things to do, though." you placed the bookmark in your book, you were intrigued.

"yeah? like what?"

"you could come upstairs with me," he suggested, smirking. you cocked a brow.

"and do what, hm?"

"three guesses."

"talk, get drunk, or get high," you said, fully knowing none of those were correct answers.

"incorrect, Y/N. can't believe for the first time in the time i've know you, you got something wrong," he said, dramatically. you laughed. "i'm serious though, come upstairs with me." you didn't answer for a bit, how could you? you couldn't say no, but you shouldn't have said yes, either.

"please?" he begged, after you didn't say anything after a moment. you sighed, setting your book on the coffee table in front of you.

"you'd better make this worth my while, farleigh."

"i promise you i will, Y/N," he said, and you were sold. in a flash you two darted up the stairs and in a secluded room on the left wing of the house. you guys haphazardly made it inside the bedroom, making out feverishly. the air suddenly felt hot, and everything was so intense. from the way he cupped your face, to the way your hands rested on his hot skin. he was about to sit you down on the bed, attempting to exert some sort of control over you. you paused. oh no, no no no no no.

"what are you doing?" you asked, bluntly. maybe you read the situation incorrectly, but you definitely thought he was more on the submissive side. this was...an unexpected turn of events.

"is this...not what you had in mind?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. it's not like he would ever force you to do anything. still, he thought his feelings were more than mutual based off of the way you had practically lunged up the stairs with him. you snuck out underneath him, and for a second he was left dumbfounded. that was until you flipped positions, having him underneath you on the bed. his cheeks flushed, becoming a cute crimson color.

"this is what i had in mind," you replied, smirking. god, had he really been that dense? were you actually the top this entire time? did he really care? so many questions. frankly, he had never subbed before, and even though he didn't necessarily have to do anything for it (besides maybe let go of his pride), he was still nervous about it. after all, he would be a lot more vulnerable than usual. "i know this probably isn't your normal style, and if you're not willing to try it we can stop right now."

"when did i say i wanted to stop?"

"you didn't."

"so...proceed," he said, a bit hesitantly. you smiled, before you kissed his lips softly. it felt heavenly; the way your lips moved in sync. you treated him with care. it made his heart flutter in his chest.

eventually, you moved away from his lips and began trailing kisses down his jaw and to his neck. you sucked softly, leaving hickeys all over his smooth skin. he sighed at the feeling, biting back any and every urge to let out the soft whimpers he wanted to. your hand found its way to the zipper of his jeans, before you looked up into his eyes.

"do you want this?" you asked, only for good measure. you wanted to be sure.

"yes, fuck, obviously," he panted, with a sassy eye roll. you chuckled, before continuing. you carefully unzipped his pants. he helped you in the process, lifting his hips up so you could pull them down. he couldn't fully comprehend what was happening as your fingers traced around his prominent erection. his mind felt clouded and hazy. he had never been in this position before, but now that he was, he didn't think he'd ever want to do things a different way.

you palmed him through his draws, and he genuinely whined at the sensation. you were teasing him, and he hated it. you arched a brow, before going back up to kiss him on the lips.

"be patient, farleigh," you advised, before pecking him on the lips one last time. painfully slowly, you pulled his draws down, and his cock sprang up swiftly. goodness was he big. perhaps 9 to 9.5 inches. if you planned to properly fuck him, he would possibly split you open...i mean what the hell.

"like what you see?" he teased, breathlessly. you rolled your eyes, yet didn't respond. you simply thumbed at his tip (which was leaking pre), and that was enough to shut him up. you--finally--gave him what he so desperately wanted, and wrapped your hand around his cock. you started out steadily, up and down. he let out soft whimpers and whines as you did so. he threw his head back, his brows were beautifully furrowed.

your hand went for the hem of his sweater, and you pulled it over his head. he was now fully exposed, and he would have felt slightly embarrassed if he wasn't so fucked out already. your fingers accidentally grazed his nipples, and combined with the stimulation already given, he let out a loud moan. you kissed his cheek, with a smile.

"look at you enjoying yourself, hm?" you mumbled.

"oh shut the fuck up," he countered, breathlessly. you pumped him particularly rough when he said that, causing him to whine. "a-ah fuck." he felt himself growing nearer and nearer towards the edge, which was strange. normally, he would last longer, but there was something about you that made him want to absolutely make a mess of himself.

"s-shit Y/N, think m'gonna cum," farleigh warned, squeezing the sheets tight in his hand. and then? you halted.

"no no, why'd you stop?" he whined, shaking his head. you laughed in his face, and didn't respond. although, when you sat up, and he did the same and leaned against the headboard, he knew what was happening. you took off your pants and then your underwear followed. he couldn't help but look down, you were completely soaked. he swallowed anxiously. he didn't want to wait much longer.

"see that? you see what you do to me?" you asked, tauntingly. you definitely had a knack for making things known to him, and he went absolutely feral. he was growing more and more impatient.

"please, Y/N," he begged, gripping your waist in an attempt to ground himself. you wasted no more time, as you lifted yourself up, and then sat back down on his cock. your pace was pretty fast, merciless, even. he let out a guttural moan, and there was a slight arch in his back as he tried helplessly not to buck his hips upward. you groaned, he was so fucking big.

"you like that, farleigh? like me fucking you like this?" you asked. it was rhetorical, but he nodded eagerly anyways. you were quite animalistic, and he wasn't sure how you were able to fuck him so fast, but it felt euphoric. he cried out, as he shut his eyes.

"o-oh my god, fuck," he moaned. you placed your hands against his chest to leverage yourself. you wanted to go even faster, thought it seemed impossible. "i won't last long."

"fuckk," you groaned, brows furrowed. "you're good, it's fine. you're doing just fine f'me, farleigh." he could feel himself become undone, as you did too.

"w-wanna cum. can i?" he asked, pleading with you. his eyes were slightly teary.

"come whenever," you breathed out, not really caring at this point. you were simply chasing your own climax. soon enough, farleigh came with a frail cry, and shortly after you came too. your chests were heaving up and down, lungs working overtime to catch your breaths. your bodies were sweaty and sticky against each other, but neither of you cared. as he came down from his high, he couldn't help but feel special. that was his first time doing something like that. there was a long, comfortable silence, before farleigh spoke.

"nobody's ever done anything like that for me before," he said, looking up at you. you smiled softly.

"glad to be the first one then." let's just say, that it turned out to be more than a one time thing...

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#dom!reader #smut #smut with plot #farleigh start #dom reader #archie madekwe #saltburn #farleigh smut #farleigh x reader #sub!character #sub!farleigh

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myapothecarydiary · 3 days

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Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 3

An expansion on an idea presented last chapter–how Jinshi's appearance affects how others treat him and the potential seriousness of it. Don't want to take it too far, but could it be said that people treat him how women are often treated in real life? With cat-calling and such. Only there's a difference in the power dynamics at play as Jinshi is in a role of authority.

Here we are also getting more insight into Jinshi's internal life and thoughts, which present a notable contrast to how Maomao views him and the persona she has so far observed. He's not all charming smiles and sparkles, we see him contemplative and expressing a range of emotions.

As of now, though her intelligence is notable, you wouldn't say Maomao could check these boxes, but lineage + beauty + intelligence are qualifications I think we should keep in mind in relation to her character. Maomao low key has some princess raised as a peasant vibes going on. Maomao and "a sense of virtue" have a less clearcut relationship, but it will be a topic of conversation in the future.

I think it's easy to imagine that in a more typical story, Maomao might have a more Cinderella-like arc, a peasant gaining the attention/favor of the Emperor through beauty and kindness and I am once again reminded of how Maomao is valued first and foremost for her intelligence. She will be found to be beautiful, but her beauty did not gain her Jinshi's attention or her position as a lady-in-waiting.

Both Maomao and Jinshi think of the rear palace as a cage. I wonder if he considers it a cage for himself as well considering what he must do to occupy space there? Or is it simply the opposite–a path to freedom? Perhaps both?

Jinshi also recognizes the role he is to play, but that does not mean he supports all the actions he must take. Everything is not always what it seems. Like Maomao, Jinshi is pragmatic about his appearance and recognizes the value/power in his beauty, but he also seems to resent it to some degree and view it as a burden. Pragmatic but resigned.

Jinshi's pov on the entire concubine system is quite interesting. He seems to disapprove of how things are done (and how the consorts/women are treated?) Surely this clashes with his desire for the Emperor to secure an heir?

Is "the plan" the one regarding the aphrodisiac (and the mid-ranking concubine/military officer)? Or his wider plan regarding working in the rear palace?

I'm wondering about what exactly produces Jinshi's feelings of...let's call it "glee"? in regards to "using" Maomao and how useful she will prove to be. Is it that she entertains him? Excites what feels like a dull and monotonous life? Is it that he enjoys exercising power in this way? I feel it's more the former, especially since he next goes on to describe how she treats him differently than anyone else he has ever encountered. She is novel. And Jinshi, as someone used to people being taken with his beauty, enjoys how her reaction to him goes beyond being unaffected by his beauty to the point of being repelled by it.

It's interesting that Maomao can seem rather monotone and subdued (except when she's not–she is extremely expressive when it comes to what she is passionate about, like poison), but her face also often acts as a give away. (Is that just a Jinshi related thing?) I mentioned this in the previous chapter and how she skirts the line in terms of respectfulness in how her actions and expressions (and even tone) clash, but maybe she isn't really so successful in skirting the line if her expression is so obvious.

I find it interesting how the manga opts to adapt the idea of Maomao as a "new toy" for Jinshi–he is the one to think it and make that connection. Also lol at it having him explicitly state he's "not a masochist" because hmm there's an argument to be made that both he and Maomao derive pleasure from pain.

Maomao as intriguing to Jinshi feels important. I said that he values her knowledge and skills, and I suppose that + how she treats him differently than others do (+ him eventually seeing her as quite beautiful) forms the basis of his attraction to her. But her being intriguing also factors into that and reminds me of all the intrigue and mysteries Maomao (and Jinshi) get involved in. She herself is like a mystery to be solved (as is he to her as the story goes on!)

Maomao as a toy also speaks to how Jinshi uses her. Yes, she entertains him, but "toy" also connotes a power dynamic (and so part of the enjoyment does come from having power over her?) Maomao is of course later referred to as a cat, not to mention her actual name, and Maomao as Jinshi's pet seems like an apt way to describe their initial dynamic.

(oh no she fell down a (pet) rabbit hole) BUT I really think there is something to be said for considering Maomao and Jinshi through "pet" and all its various meanings. Only thing is Maomao is not tamed or domesticated XD (but maybe she'll trend in that direction as time goes on aka adapt to Jinshi's lifestyle and status?)

For now, Jinshi is the master and holds the power in a traditional sense, but he will also quickly develop affection and favoritism for Maomao (and wants her companionship!) + despite how the dynamic should work, Maomao will hold power over him in turn (as with actual cats, the question is who is really the master and I think the answer is both)

Cutie Maomao appreciation segue

The panacea is presented here as a bit of a segue itself and to show Maomao's enthusiasm + passion + dedication to medicine and experimentation, but it always feels like a weighted thing to drop, like it will be important later, at least symbolically/metaphorically. Perhaps it also works as the perfect intersection of Maomao's care for others + thirst for knowledge/curiosity.

Mini Maomao! A reminder of how petite she is and how that works along with her status (as a visual representation of it in contrast with characters higher up who tower over her). Another way she appears unassuming and is underestimated.

(also–yay Gaoshun is here!!)

In terms of Jinshi using Maomao vs Maomao using Jinshi– Jinshi's status enables Maomao access and freedom (that she wouldn't normally be afforded in her position and situation) through her connection to him. She is able to do work she enjoys and indulge her curiosities because of him.

Circling back to what I said earlier about how Maomao can seem subdued but is extremely expressive when it comes to what she is passionate about. And it actually goes beyond her facial expressions, her whole body is invigorated and taken over XD

Her blushing expression and body position at the top of that second page almost resembles a girl in love lol

It is an interesting adaptational choice to make Jinshi's expression kind of an unamused frown here–I wonder what to make of it. (We get it described as "He watched her with a mixture of curiosity and sheer bewilderment" in the light novel). Especially as it presents Maomao in a different light than he has seen her in so far.

It feels like Maomao is almost actively seeking reasons to criticize and dislike Jinshi (to justify the instinctual bad vibes she gets? And going off the fake-ness she picks up on. This can also demonstrate a general dislike of people in high positions and the behavior their status affords them) but also this moment illustrates her appreciation for hard work and competence. Not that Jinshi is doing anything admirable here, it is just that Maomao seems determined to (understandably) see the worst in him/leans into bad faith interpretations of his actions.

Paper and ice–I call this the collection of planting seeds for future storylines and topics. I love how we're given information that will be relevant later in a way that feels natural and factors into the world-building.

Things to add to Maomao's list of skills XD

Okay Miss Maomao getting distracted on the job! More of her getting invigorated by her passions and how they can take over her mind and focus. But also amusing considering her criticisms of Jinshi "having too much free time" (yes, she still washed the dishes and did work, but her attention was diverted and she lost track of time)

More of Maomao's skill set and add alcohol to the list of seeds for the future (and lol @ everyone's reactions to her late night snack plans "what weird shit is this girl into?")

"Alcohol can be categorized as a type of medicine. The more sensitive a person is to a particular drug, the greater the impact." Not just a seed but add it to the pile of potential poison/medicine symbolism

More lol @ Maomao. I said her upbringing in the pleasure district serves her well in the rear palace, but it (in addition to her apothecary background) also give her a unique and potentially off-putting outlook. This whole scenario can go to show how in spite of her regard for propriety, Maomao doesn't always behave how she "should."

More of how Maomao frames Jinshi–"anyone would be attracted to him but to me, he is a worm." Does Maomao's familiarity with beauty make it somewhat ineffective on her? She makes the connection here about how Jinshi's beauty could be a burden (or not just harmful to others but to himself).

I also enjoy how a blushing Jinshi is described as being enough "to make anyone lose their head" when Maomao often says she does things/follows orders because she wants to keep her head attached to her body (aka not be executed).

Jinshi's attractiveness to both men and women is both a nod to varying sexualities and how he in a way transcends a binary understanding of gender presentation. I think it is interesting how Maomao is so blunt and matter-of-fact about people's attraction, to Jinshi and in general.

Similarly, I love this (repeated) matter-of-fact outlook on aphrodisiacs and pleasure from Maomao (it is almost non-judgmental but also emphasizes safety).

Alright, guess who used too many images and so has to continue this post elsewhere for the very end of the chapter...

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto manga #the apothecary diaries manga #analysis #thoughts #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #jinshi x maomao #tad manga #manga #annotations #tad manga chapter 3 #chapter 3

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inkareds · 2 days

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Eat Your Young

Modern Aemond Targaryen

6/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list (tba) // ko-fi // taglist

✧.* word count: 8.1k (it's really long idk) ✧.* genre: angst, comfort, and smut (it has everything) ✧.* warnings: SMUT so, MDNI!!! Reader is afab but no gendered terms are used, forced to manipulate ppl, Aegon is an asshole (it's warranted lmao), piv sex, sub-ish Aemond, shitty parents

Your parents gave you one task in the gala, make Aegon Targaryen fall in love with you and establish a connection between your family corporation and the Targaryens. But what happens when a certain other Targaryen brother catches your attention instead?

This isn't my first time writing smut but it is my first time writing smut here. I hope Aemond doesn't feel too ooc, I tried to balance out Aemond's own insecurities and worries with the usual Targaryen masking their insecurities with being an asshole vibe.

As always, story and lyric breakdown are at the end

“Just get through the night.” You whispered while smoothing down the creases you’ve made on your clothes.

After taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The bathroom was pretty empty, most people being outside socialising and celebrating God knows what. Frankly speaking, you couldn’t care less what event this gala was thrown for, it seemed like every other month some rich socialite was throwing a party or a gala.

What did matter right now was that the Targaryens were esteemed guests and you have been given a special mission.

Make Aegon Targaryen fall in love with you.

The mission seemed easy enough, especially because you felt like you could read Aegon to filth. Classic oldest son in a rich family happens to have one too many burdens as a kid burning them out at a very young age, leading to rebellion and then rejection from the entire family. You could use every manipulative tactic in the book to get the man head over heels for you.

Pretend you liked him, be there for him, ignore all his bad sides but never affirm them. It should be easy. It was easy. If you didn’t absolutely hate him.

The moment you walked into the building your parents had given you a clear goal. Solidify a permanent business connection with the Targaryen family, the easiest way to do that is through Aegon Targaryen. But the moment you shared a conversation with him, you felt salt on your tongue.

Drying your mouth, spinning your head, gagging your throat. It was disgusting. At this point, you didn’t know if your distaste for Aegon was due to him or what he represented. A distasteful mission of manipulation shrouded and hidden atop of family values.

Do it for the family, they’d tell you over and over again before the gala, and so you must.

But after all the myriad of conversations you’ve had with the man you needed a break. Taking a step away from the crowd you went over towards the bar for some respite. Bless whoever was hosting the party for the open bar, it’s the only thing that’ll get you through the night at this point.

It wasn’t like Aegon was bad company, quite the contrary, he was fun, reckless, funny, if not a little bit crass. But you didn’t want to seduce him like a cheap whore. It felt wrong. Especially for someone like him who seemed desperate for a real human connection.

You idly moved the drink the bartender had just placed in front of you around the bartop. Letting your mind swirl around through possibilities of what you could do to run away from the situation your parents had bestowed on you. All coming to nought. You couldn’t find a way to follow your morals without your family’s absolute anger. It frustrated you.

Though your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a certain tall man sat beside you. In any other case, you wouldn’t have minded, but in this specific case, where the bar was almost devoid of any other person except you and a few other people. The fact that a random man just decides to sit beside you irks you to no end.

“Tired of entertaining my brother, are you?” He calls your name and you recognize that voice.

Putting very little effort into concealing the small smile creeping into your features, you turned to look at Aemond.

“Not quite, I just needed a drink.” You raised your cocktail in response to it.

Aemond looked unconvinced.

“What are you doing?” Aemond, as Aemond usually was, cut straight to the chase,

He had softened his features ever so slightly the moment the two of you made eye contact, but now his expression hardened once more. His brows slightly furrowed as he asked you.

“What do you mean?” You answered with another question, taking another sip from your drink, as Aemond ordered one for himself. Whisky on the rocks.

He doesn’t answer for a little bit, letting the tension linger ever so slightly in the air. Perhaps edging you to confess to your sins rather than him calling you out on it. But when you still seldom answer Aemond is forced to reply.

“Aegon’s a fool but he’s the heir to our father’s company, if he makes a bad decision than it reflects badly on the entire family.”

You try not to take the implications behind his words to heart. Shrugging instead and looking away back to the wall of bottles behind the barman as he makes his way to make drinks for the other rich patrons.

“If I remembered correctly, Mrs Rhaenyra was heir.”

“We both know you wouldn’t be trying to get Aegon’s cock in your mouth if you believed that.”

You tightened your hold on your drink, now almost empty, his crass words crossing you more than you wanted them to. A bitter chuckle left you through gritted teeth.

“Would you prefer it be yours instead?”

Aemond’s eyes focused on you as you smile at him and take your leave. You didn’t want to hear a single thing from the man anymore. Truth be told, you had wished he was the firstborn son, perhaps in that way your goal would be easier to achieve. You have known Aemond for longer than you have Aegon. He took care of the minor business meetings his mother, father, or half-sister couldn’t or wouldn’t be bothered to. Your family’s business meetings fell into that category.

Which was another strong reason your parents had placed so much hope in you. It was through those meetings you were able to create a sort of relationship with the then-young Targaryen. Neither friendship nor romantic, somewhere along the lines of mutual respect and mutual understanding over the heavy burdens placed on each other’s shoulders.

His as a result of being the only capable child of his mother and yours as a result of being the only child of your parents.

All of that went away since he had been promoted after his father’s sickness making him lose the ability to work whatsoever a couple of years prior. Bi-weekly meetings where the two of you would share small conversations before and after meetings became nothing at all. With no clear reason to contact one another, whatever respect had fizzled away.

That would’ve been the first time you’ve properly met and spoken to him since then.

Though after that disastrous first conversation, you hoped you could avoid him the rest of the night. Something that worked far too well as Aemond seemed to disappear into the crowd. It did make your conversations with Aegon easier but you couldn’t help but look outwards into the crowd every now and again trying to look for him.

When the night neared a close, all the guests started filing away and the remaining people were just the close friends of the host, you started to make your way outside. Your parents were waiting near the doorway, smiling proudly at you as you bid your leave from Aegon who grinned.

There was a sadness behind his playful eyes, not that many seem to notice, you pitied him. Though not enough to forget your anger at being forced to do such a distasteful act.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Aegon waved you off with a light-hearted wink and you gave him a friendly smile in return.

As you walked towards your parents, heavy in your footsteps and holding your head high despite the shame that runs hot in your veins, someone else stopped you. Aemond was standing next to a pillar you almost walked by, if not for him calling out your name.

“I believe you owe me a proper catch-up, it has been a while since we met and I would regret leaving with a bad experience.”

You glanced at him and then back at your parents. Your mother’s brows were furrowed lightly in confusion whilst your father leaned towards her ear to whisper something. A choice was now presented in front of you.

Decline Aemond’s offer and go back to your family home with a bitter taste in your mouth and simple daydreams of what could’ve happened if you stayed. Or accept Aemond’s offer and not only risk angering your parents but also risk an awkward altercation with Aemond, no doubt solidifying your family name in the Targaryen business’ eyes. Which would also lead to your parents being infuriated.

But when you looked back at Aemond, long white hair neat as it flowed down his suit, you couldn’t help but feel selfish. Your parents should understand, that a whole night of schmoozing against Aegon should allow you some kind of prize, this will be it.

“Of course,” Aemond pushed himself off the pillar and walked beside you, offering his arm as he pulled you away from the crowd of leaving guests.

The two of you walked in silence for a little bit before you realised where you were going. Dazed at the decision you just made, you didn’t realise where he was leading you. When you did come back to reality, you found yourself at the back of the gala venue, a motorbike in front of you.

“I didn’t realise your version of catching up is kidnapping me, Mr. Targaryen.”

He handed you a spare helmet which you took, grinning ear to ear. Of course, you’ve heard the rumours, Aemond Targaryen, the man that should be the second pick to be the next owner of Targaryen Corp, not Aegon. After all, Aemond was the more responsible one, he was more patient, and though he wasn’t more charismatic than Aegon, was much less prone to finding a photo of himself on the front pages of gossip tabloids. But rumour has it that Aemond Targaryen had an edge to him. An edge that made him not as approachable as his siblings or half-siblings were.

To be quite honest, you were curious about what this edge was when you worked with him. When you didn’t see it at the entirety of your ‘friendship’ you assumed it was simply a rumour. But now, you wondered if you’d experience it firsthand.

“We’re not professionally involved with one another anymore, Aemond will do,” he says as he steadies his bike, beckoning you to come to his side. “And don’t worry, I’m only taking us to a more quiet space to talk.”

Aemond looked at you with a small sense of sincerity in his eyes, at that moment you knew if you refused it, he’d be willing to talk. You knew that was the safer option, the option that your parents had instilled in you the moment you graduated. But the other part of you, the long lost teenage part of you who longs for the reckless nights and dramatic mistakes your friends back in high school seem to partake in that you never did due to all the responsibilities you carried, wanted to see where the night will go if you said yes.

You smiled and put on your helmet before climbing to the back of his motorcycle. Aemond himself grinned before he put on his helmet. With a single tap to your thigh, Aemond starts off the bike. In a single moment, you were cruising through the dark streets of King’s Landing.

The colourful city lights decorated the sky as you whizzed through traffic. It was late enough that all Aemond had to do was manoeuvre slightly to keep the pace constant. You couldn’t help but relax your hold on him from behind. Your hands splayed out on his abdomen, coincidentally slightly feeling his well-muscled body from under his black suit.

You grinned to yourself, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach at the thought of what you were doing. When you tightened your hold, feigning fear, you pretended not to notice how Aemond's grip tighten.

Aemond slowed down when you left the city, the lights slowly got dimmer and much further apart from one another. Until you finally stopped outside a large home. The estate itself was slightly smaller than the house you grew up in, granted you grew up well off, but the house itself wasn’t as imposing as you thought Aemond’s house would be.

As Aemond parked his bike inside the garage, he offered you a hand to help you get off. He didn’t let your hand go as he led you into the house.

“Is there a reason why your parents seem to stick by my mother’s side the entire night or were they simply trying to make sure she wasn’t lonely?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Here I thought you were a smart man, Aemond,” you saw the way his throat bobbed when you said his name, “I assume you’d have figured it out already.”

“Ah, of course,” he shook his head slightly as the two of you made it to his kitchen. His whole house was beautifully decorated, marble everywhere, coloured accents where it made sense. You had assumed there’d be more splashes of red here and there, considering the Targaryen head office was filled with it, but instead, a dark emerald and a deep forest green were scattered throughout the space.

It complimented the place well.

“The same reason you’ve been hounding my brother it seems.” You rolled your eyes as he opened a cupboard to take out a bottle. “A drink?”

“It would be rude of me to refuse.” You answered, smiling as he poured both him and you a drink.

“Now, care to explain?” He asks after you take a sip.

“I know you think there is an ulterior motive for me, but have you ever considered that I just wanted to befriend Aegon?” You teased.

He turned towards you, keeping his eyes on your own.

“Aegon’s good company, but you don’t seem like the person who’d flaunt yourself like that.”

“Really?” you asked as Aemond drew near, “What kind of person am I then, Aemond Targaryen?”

“You,” he whispers, his voice low and his breath brushing against your lips. “You are someone brilliant, headstrong, responsible, but far far too loyal.”

“Is that so?” he hummed in response, “Are you sure?” Your eyes travelled to his lips as you both placed your glasses on the counter you were currently leaning on.

Aemond’s body trapped you between him and the counter. Though trapped wasn’t the word you’d use to describe how you were feeling.

“I’m pretty sure. I pay very close attention.”

“You pay close attention to all the people you used to work with?”

His hand places itself on your cheek, his thumb reaching towards your bottom lip.

“Only the ones I care enough for.”

Then he closes the distance between you. His lips against yours, you feel the softness he tried to convey, in a way he was giving you an out. Allowing you to reject his advances and he’d pull away. But you didn’t want to. For the first time in the entire night, you felt your mouth feel with sweetness instead of cotton and salt.

So you pursued him, you leaned forward to kiss him back, bringing both your arms around the back of his neck as you arched towards him. Aemond responds in tandem, both his arms snaking his way to your lower back.

He pulls you closer to him as the kiss intensifies. You feel yourself filling with fire, wanting to be impossibly close to the man in front of you. An eruption of emotions you tried to hide behind an edge of professionalism all those years ago when you worked with Aemond finally bubbled up in your chest.

As a result, Aemond responded, he groaned into your mouth as he pulled away, only to leave open-mouth kisses on your jaw. Exploring down onto your neck as you looked up to give him better access. Your collarbones were next and you felt your nerves light like a match being lit on fire and thrown into gasoline.

You writhed in his touch as you felt his teeth graze against your skin. To try and help him you pushed parts of his hair aside so it wouldn’t bother him. He muttered a small thanks before continuing his assault on your skin.

“I wish I could’ve asked you out properly before our last meeting.” he murmured into your skin. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this.”

At the mention of your work, your lust-induced haze cleared. The thought of your parents reached your mind as you realised this has gone further than you intended. Instead of the butterfly of emotions and affection that rose in your stomach, bile began bubbling. You felt yourself stiffen as you tried to think of a way to get Aemond to stop.

Aemond, not truly realising the war that raged in your mind, let his hands wander to your thigh, pushing against your clothes, wanting to feel your skin. When his other hand seem to start its ascend towards your chest you placed both your hands on his chest and pushed him.

Immediately Aemond pulled back. You refused to look at him as you started to stammer out incoherent words.

“I shouldn’t- we shouldn’t- this has gone too far. I- I’m-”

You failed to see the disappointment and hurt cross Aemond’s eyes as he watched you writhe and stammer, clearly uncomfortable at the position he had placed both of you in. But he quickly steeled himself, pulling away properly now. Taking a few steps back and looking to the side.

Anywhere but you, with your swollen lips glistening with spit, and ruffled clothes from his hands.

“Apologies then, I- I’ll send a driver to bring you home.” Just like that Aemond turned his heel and walked away deeper into his home.

You turned to face him just in time to see a scowl form on his face, but you couldn’t call out to him like you wanted to. So, biting the inside of your cheek, you grabbed your bag and pulled out a mirror. Meticulously making sure you were presentable before making your way out of his home.

In the driveway, you dared yourself to look back. You didn’t know what you were looking for, maybe Aemond to call you back inside, and finish what both of you started. But none of that happened.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, you trudged your way to the car Aemond sent for you.

The next few weeks went by with a blur. After exchanging numbers with Aegon in the party the two of you had spoken here and there. Surprisingly enough, you had slowly been accustomed to him. At times you viewed him as a friend.

However, those times were quickly crushed during every family dinner when your parents would ask about Aegon and talk about the Targaryen corporation.

When you weren’t talking to Aegon, you were dealing with your family business. Your parents were getting older so you’ve been taking on more and more responsibilities. Fortunately, under your lead, your family company has been growing steadily.

“Our sales went up significantly this month,” you spoke as you cut into a piece of asparagus on the plate, “The data analyst report said it was because of the ad rebrand. The simple but eye-catching colours seem to resonate with my generation.”

Your dad hummed in agreement, “See, I told you our child would be fine taking over after us.” He signalled to your mother.

“I never doubted you for a second,” She spoke with a smile, before stiffening once again, “But I must say, it isn’t the same growth that we saw when we worked together with the Velaryons or Targaryens.”

“Well, that’s a given, they’re support would allow us to bridge continents,” your father continued.

“Indeed, if we are able to secure your connection with Aegon then the company and our name will be set for life.” You bit your tongue to stop any kind of retort coming out, “After all, how hard can it be? You can tell the poor boy’s practically begging for attention.” Your mother and father laughed.

Leaving you to chew on your food in silence. You couldn’t blame them for being such social and economic climbers. You’ve learnt from a young age that if your parents hadn’t done some of the morally ambiguous things that they’ve done, there was no way they could be as successful as they are now. You had to take the plunge.

You excused yourself early from dinner, making up an excuse on how you had plans with Aegon. Truth be told, you didn’t have plans with him, but you hoped his schedule’s clear enough to entertain your presence.

Surprisingly, after a short call, he told you to meet up with him at a jazz bar not so far from where both of you lived. Quickly dressed up, your driver dropped you off at the luxurious establishment.

When you entered you made your way directly to the bar, forgoing the small tables and such. Aegon had already been there, his back facing you. You swallowed hard and forced a flirtatious smile to grace you.

Walking up towards him, your hands reached out to caress his back as you leaned forward.

“Hi stranger,” you teased.

In response, Aegon gave you a lopsided grin and gestured for you to sit on the stool beside him.

You ordered yourself a dry martini and took your seat.

“Why the sudden call?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” you rolled your eyes, “Can’t I just miss you? It’s been a while since we saw each other. How are you?”

He let out a loud chuckle and leaned forward towards you.

“Oh baby, let’s not pretend we both don’t know what you want.”

Aegon grinned and looked at you up and down. For some reason, you felt your stomach drop. This is what you want, right? I mean, if you sleep with Aegon tonight, then you could definitely hook him to you. Establish a connection between the Targaryens and your family and then your job was done. But it felt wrong.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Targaryen.” Your voice was low and sultry, as you egged him on. Though the voice in your head told you to stop.

You can’t shake the thought of Aemond from your mind. The way Aegon was looking at you reminded you of that night. How different would things be if you never pushed him away?

“Oh really?” Aegon continued standing up from his seat and taking a step towards you, his face mere inches from you.

“Mhm” you hummed as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, ignoring the pangs in your heart screaming that this was wrong.

Aegon bit the bottom of his lip.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to believe him, but here’s the proof laid out in front of me.” Aegon suddenly pulled away and chuckled dryly, leaving you confused. “You can tell your bitch of a mom and bastard of a dad that sending their kid dolled up like a noble won’t make me fall head over heels.”

He waved you off and took a seat back on his chair, looking forward at the bar and not at all to you.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you processed what he was saying.

“Aemond told me sweetheart.” He turned to you, the lopsided grin and playful glint disappearing from his expression, “Told me about your little parents’ plans to connect us or some shit like that. You don’t have to keep following them you know? You’re not a bitch on a leash.”

At that you gritted your teeth, Aegon had every right to be bitter at you. But to be this crass was uncalled for.

“Why do you look so angry? I’m the one who should be angry. You’re over here flirting and practically opening your legs to seduce me like the devil.” He let out a humourless chuckle as your face flared in embarrassment. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not going to take it to heart. You’re not the only social climbing degenerate who tried to get with me just for a key to the company. Especially after my half-sister got married.”

Degenerate

How fucking dare he? All things considered, he should look in the mirror.

“Forgive me then,” You gritted your teeth and turned your heel to walk away, embarrassed and furious.

Until Aegon called your name.

“What I said stands by the way. You don’t have to listen to them, I mean, Aemond seem to care about you enough to warn me. Something about not letting you fuck over your entire life just because you needed to fuck me.” Aegon light-heartedly chuckles. “Just give it a thought, baby.”

The pet name sounded more sarcastic than anything as you walked away without turning around.

You should’ve known Aemond would’ve done something to sabotage you after you refused him that night. Bastard. What would you tell your parents now?!

That night you spent an hour in a random ice cream shop before calling your driver to pick you up. You needed to pretend like you had spent all that time with Aegon when in reality you were spending your time with several cups of your favourite ice cream flavour. Your only companion is the underpaid college student who had the unfortunate late night shift.

After that, you avoided your parents like the plague. Thankfully after your father asked you to take up some of his responsibilities, something about grooming you to take over for him in a few weeks when he retires. Your new office was closer to your home than it was to your family home. So you had moved in back to your apartment penthouse.

The weeks droned on like thick molasses, slow and tedious. You couldn’t relax anywhere you went outside your apartment, because every time you were at work you were risking your parents’ suddenly asking you about Aegon or the Targaryens or anything like that.

Somehow it’s begun spreading across the office that you have been getting closer to the Targaryen family one way or another. It was good news for everyone working there because that could mean they’d be getting a pay raise if a collaboration happened. You didn’t know who spread the rumours but you had a feeling it was your father, his own way of putting pressure on you to finish the deal.

These rumours were what made it both surprising and unsurprising when Aemond Targaryen suddenly arrived in your office.

You had been busy with work calls the entire day, and when you were finished you had very little energy left and weren’t as perceptive to the things that were happening around you. All you knew was that it was around the time when everyone except the overtime labourers would go home. You should also go home but there was some work still left to be done.

Readying yourself to take on the mountain of paperwork you still needed to do, a knock on your door broke your attention.

“Come in.”

Your secretary popped her head in and looked positively frazzled.

“Sorry boss, there’s someone here to see you.”

You made a confused expression until the door was pushed open a bit more and you could see the hints of long white hair waiting on the front of your secretary’s desk not far from your door.

“I see.”

“I told Mr. Targaryen that you’d be busy, but he promised it wouldn’t take a long time.”

“It’s alright, send him in.”

She nodded as she stepped back and brought Aemond to your office. As the door opened further, you could see some of your co-workers looking at Aemond. Likely curious if he was the connection the rumours had been talking about.

You sighed as he stepped in and your secretary closed the door.

“Why are you here?” You refused to even look at him and instead picked up a piece of paperwork and a pen.

“Usually when guests arrive at my office I offer them a seat first before questioning them. But I understand you’re still training to take over your father.”

Though his sarcasm would’ve brought a smile to your face any other day. Today it only irked you.

“Oh, apologies Mr Targaryen, I wasn’t aware you were a guest. I had mistaken you for an intruder. Please, do sit.”

You sarcastically motioned to the seat in front of you. Before rolling your eyes and once again turning your attention towards the contract in front of you. You started trying to read through it as Aemond sat in front of you. Trying your best not to focus on the way his black dress shirt moulded his well-toned body. The same body you were almost acquainted with.

“How about we put the paper down darling, we both know you won’t be getting any work done with me here.”

At his smug voice, you practically scowled. You couldn’t take him anymore. You couldn’t take any of the Targaryens anymore. With their pretty face and smug bastardly attitude. They act as if they’re above everyone else and maybe if people like them didn’t exist, people like your parents wouldn’t be so desperate to climb and compete to act as smug and pompous as them.

You placed down your pen and paper and spoke through gritted teeth.

“You have yet to answer my question, what the fuck do you want Aemond?”

You dared to glare at him, trying not to cower at his piercing lavender eyes. For a second, you think you saw him soften at the eye contact, though it was gone before you could verify that thought.

“I wanted to talk to you personally.”

“About what?”

“About a potential collaboration.”

At those words, your eyes widened.

“But if I remember correctly, only your father’s office is soundproof, this isn’t. And I’d like privacy to talk about this.”

“What game are you playing, Aemond?” Your eyes squinted at him trying to gauge his reaction.

“Nothing, this is strictly business.” He motioned towards the messenger bag he was carrying. “I’d like these following documents and contracts with the heir to this company, but if you decline, I could always go to the head.”

“I’ll be the head in a couple of days, you can discuss it with me.” You cut him off. However, you quickly realised you took the bait.

“Very well, lead the way to a more private location then.”

A long silence swept across the two of you as you waited for each other to break. When it became clear Aemond wouldn’t, you stood up.

“Fine.” That was the only thing you said before you stood up and quickly packed up your things to leave.

Aemond followed suit as you walked out of the office building. Thankfully enough, a good chunk of people had already left. However, there were still a few who saw their boss walk into the car with Aemond Targaryen.

Your ride to your apartment was silent. Your head rushing through your options and wondering if what you were doing was the right thing to do. You couldn’t regret your choices though because before you knew it you were inside your penthouse, with Aemond fucking Targaryen.

You bit the inside of your cheek and decided to try and be casual, though you knew Aemond could feel your stiff nerves.

“Can I offer you a drink?” A sense of Deja Vu washed over you at that moment.

But you were confident tonight would end differently, you wouldn’t be tempted by Aemond Targaryen again.

“I’d rather keep my head clear for our discussion.” he answered.

You couldn’t help but admire the way he looked in your home as if he belonged there this entire time.

You nodded and motioned towards the couches in the middle of the living room. The two of you took a seat beside one another as Aemond took out his papers.

“As I’ve said before, I believe both mine and your corporation could benefit from a collaboration.” he handed you a few papers as he began explaining, “A data analyst from my team had informed me of your growth over the few months since your takeover to a leadership position.” Your eyes read through the words, these were proper documents, entailing a collaboration and what that would mean on both sides.

“I’m under the believe that once you take over, that growth will only increase at an exponential rate. In which case, you’d be the most recent trend. I’d like to offer an early collaboration.”

“So that you could get ahead of other companies that may want to work together with mine when we reach that moment of growth.”

“Precisely.”

You looked through some of the other documents in silence before putting them down and looking towards Aemond. There was the smallest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“What makes you think this trend of growth will grow when I take over? And if I remember correctly, it’s Rhaenyra Targaryen who has a say in big decisions such as this. How can I be sure you’ll fulfil your end of the deal if I agree to this?”

You stared at him, placing both your hands on top of your lap.

“To answer both of your questions, my family has put trust in me and my judgement in character. And I believe you to be someone strong and smart enough to fix the problems your father had when he took over the company.”

He spoke with a confidence that irked you. But there was something else in there that you were now noticing. An uncertainty, a sense of anxiety, a small hint of hopefulness. You wanted to laugh. He was the source of your embarrassment when you were speaking to Aegon and yet here he was asking you for a collaboration project.

“And why should I trust you? Last we spoke you had practically caused Aegon to embarrass me in public.”

You saw Aemond tighten his jaw slightly. A sense of pride bloomed inside of you at the ability to make Aemond motherfucking Targaryen nervous.

“Well, unlike your plan with Aegon, this would be beneficial to both of us. So I apologise for looking after my brother’s wellbeing.”

You quirked your eyebrows at his pathetic answer.

“So that’s it huh? The reason for this collaboration is because it’ll be beneficial to both of us?”

“Of course.”

You leaned closer towards him.

“I don’t buy it. Aemond Targaryen, you are a brilliant man. You would know that a collaboration with me at this moment would benefit me much more than it would benefit you. So, I’ll ask again, is that your only reason?”

You see the way Adam’s apple bobbed against his neck as you brought yourself closer towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You grinned at seeing the way he was reacting.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Aemond didn’t actually have an edge. Maybe the people who worked with him and said he did have an edge just didn’t have the bravery to push him. You’d be the first.

“You know what I think Aemond?” You brought your body closer, till your legs are practically draped over his. “I think you’re doing this just as an excuse to see me.”

Your lips ghost against his as his breathing deepened.

“Because no matter how smart or brilliant you are, at the end of the day you’re just a coward who doesn’t have enough bravery to be man enough to talk to me normally.”

At that, Aemond closed the distance between you. Smashing his lips against yours as he quickly brought his hands towards your back and pushed you against his body. In return your hands made their way towards his hair.

Weeks and weeks of turmoil and mixed emotions filled the passionate kiss the two of you shared as you moaned into the way his tongue slipped past your lips.

“I’ll show you bravery.” He pulled away breathlessly, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“I don’t believe you.” You bit back with a grin.

In response to your words, Aemond pushed you back to the couch so that he was now on top. You held onto the back of his neck as his lips made their way to your neck and collarbones, pushing against your blouse, as one of his hands was placed beside your head and the other worked to open the buttons of his shirt.

When he got all of them he pulled away, leaving you to groan at the disappearance of his soft lips. Aemond only grinned as he sat straight to take off his shirt and throw it away somewhere with the pile of papers.

Your hands immediately reached forwards to his body. You had already felt the outlines of his muscles on the motorcycle ride to his place the last time something like this happened. But this time, you were seeing and touching him without a single barrier between.

You let your hands wander against the expanse of his chest and abdomen. Aemond felt himself swell with pride at the way you were looking at him with such admiration and lust. When your nails dragged against his nipples, he had to throw his head back to stop a groan from erupting from himself.

Seeing this you grinned to yourself.

You reached up at him and pulled him back to your level, your lips meeting one another once more.

“Take my shirt off.” You whispered towards him.

Aemond only nodded as your lips connected again, whilst his hands made quick work of your blouse. Your hands pulled away from him just to take off the sleeves of your blouse before his hands crept underneath your back to unclasp your bra.

You let him pull the undergarment away from you and let him watch your chest free of the confines of your bra just as you did to him. Unlike you though, he didn’t waste any more time. Like a starving man who dreamt of his meal for years, he was quick to smother your chest in kisses.

You threw your head back and moaned loudly when his lips made their way to one of your nipples whilst the other one had the attention of his hand.

“Yes~ Oh, Aemond!” You moaned as you reached to hold onto his hair and the couch.

The feeling of his silky white hair pooling against your skin as he sucked and nibbled your nipples was heavenly.

Now and again Aemond would let himself slow down and look at you. Only to come back to pleasuring you with fervour at seeing your expression of lust and bliss. Completely ignoring the way his pants started to get tighter and tighter.

He’s been wanting to do this for the longest time and though he didn’t plan to do this now, wanting to wait until you were the head of your company and free from the chains of your parents. He could never refuse you. All he wanted to do was make you feel good.

But the moment you lifted your hips and ground against his clothed dick, he had to bite into your skin to muffle out a pathetic moan.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you breathlessly spoke, sounding like an angel in his ears, “Don’t muffle yourself. I want to hear you feel as good as me.” You ground yourself against him again.

This time, Aemond let himself moan against your skin. His embarrassment caused him to bury his head against the crook of your neck and litter it with kisses.

“Who would’ve thought Aemond Targaryen was so shy when it came to fucking.” You teased as you tried to take off your pants.

Aemond feeling you squirm under him understood immediately, he pulled away from you to give you room to take your pants off. All the while he worked at his belt and pants as well. With only his boxers on, you could see the way it strained to keep his hard dick in place.

Your mouth watered at the thought of him inside of you. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond was frozen looking at you bare. You had taken off your underwear along with your pants. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything as he stared at your slick core, dripping with need. Need for him.

Seeing his hesitancy, you decided to take the lead. Using your elbows as support you pushed yourself up and lightly led Aemond to sit comfortably against the couch whilst you climbed above him. Aemond let out the loudest and most beautiful moan when he felt you rub your wet cunt against his clothed dick.

“Come on, let me see all of you.” You whispered in his ear as you tugged at the waistband of his boxers.

“Anything you want.” Aemond whispered against your skin as he shuffles to take off his boxers whilst leaving feather-light kisses against your shoulders and any piece of skin he could reach.

Your eyes practically widened when you saw him. All bare and vulnerable in front of you. You wondered for a second what your parents would think of you. But before your mind could wander any furhter. Aemond brought his hand to your chin and made you look up at him.

“Stop thinking, enjoy this with me.”

His words brought back the confidence you almost lost at the thought of your dissappointed parents. So you reached towards the coffee table where you had placed your bag for your wallet. You quickly took out the condom inside and placed it on Aemond, before teasing him even more.

He groaned at the feeling of you rubbing against him, his hands instinctively held your hips to still your movements.

“After all these months, you still want to tease me?”

You giggled, kissing the corner of his lips, “Maybe.” You spoke before slowly sinking into him.

The two of you groaned in tandem when his tip went inside, the intrusion was slightly painful at first but as you went slowly the feeling of pain only blossomed into unadulterated pleasure.

Aemond moaned your name when you bottomed out, placing his head on the crook of your neck as his arms embraced your waist. Your chest pressed against his and your bodies connected together. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt this much emotion for someone.

“Gods, Aemond.” you whispered as you slowly started to move.

He groaned in response as his fingers dug deeper into your skin.

“Aemond fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You muttered over and over agains as you started to bounce on his dick.

In response, he helped you by moving your hips and fucking you from underneath. His hips slamed against your own as he moaned your name over and over again.

“Fuck, you’re so amazing, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Between every word he’d sneak a kiss onto any place he could, just something to ground him.

All the while you held tight on the sofa behind him.

“I love you. Fuck, I fucking love you.” You felt him mutter against your skin, it caused you to clench against him, leading to an exceptionally loud moan from the man.

The thought of loving him struck you at that moment. Did you love him? Maybe? How long has he felt this for you?

One of his hands snuck their way into between your bodies and long fingers started toying with your clit, causing your legs to close around him even more.

You felt his thrusts get more and more messy and you could feel your own stomach twisting in a familiar feeling.

“Shit- Aemond- I’m gonna-”

“Yeah- yeah- me too, me too.”

You bit into the side of his neck as the band in your stomach snapped causing you to cum all over his dick. At the same time, Aemond groaned and thrusted one final time into you, before shooting ropes of cum into the condom.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. With him still being inside of you and you with your head in the crook of his neck. Breathing in and out trying to calm both your hearts.

You were first to pull away, with shaky legs you pulled yourself away from him and laid on the couch. Your legs on top of his thighs as he affectionately rubbed your ankles.

“I’m going to get us some water.” he spoke softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead before standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

When he came back, he had already discarded the condom and put on his boxers.

Handing you the glass of water, you sat up to retrieve it and silence soon followed.

Aemond was the one who tried to break it.

“I’ll call my driver while you shower. We can forget what happened and what I said if you want.” You looked at him at that moment, he looked, honest.

You remembered that look in Aegon’s eyes that time in the jazz bar. Something about the Targaryens and their perfect masks which seem to drop and show just how fragile they truly were.

Maybe the Targaryens weren’t such assholes anyways.

“No,” you reached out towards him, your hand against his the scarred side of his face, “Stay. I don’t want to forget what happened.” You leaned to press a soft kiss against his lips.

In return his hand held onto the yours that was on his cheek. He held it there in place even as you pulled away. Rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

“You know, once you become the head, there’s no way your parents can control you. Which means you’re free to do whatever you want.” He chuckles and leans to press a small kiss on the palm of your hand.

“You’re right.” You whispered, “Then!” You quickly stood up, holding his hand in yours, “As my first decision at doing whatever I want, I want you, Aemond Targaryen, to take a shower with me and spend the night here.”

You grinned ear to ear as Aemond stood up.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Just before the two of you made your way to the shower, Aemond spoke again, “You know Aegon doesn’t hate you or blame you. He knows what it’s like for your parents to push you to do something you don’t want to.”

Your brows furrowed at the thought of Aegon, you’d have to properly apologise to him later on. But on the meantime, you didn’t want to sour the mood.

“Damn, the famed Targaryen family has family drama? That’s surprising.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Eat Your Young is a song about the exploitation of the younger generation by a group of rich people that do not care at the fuck all. Though the song talks about stronger messages like the world of arms-dealing I want to write more about exploitation following the reader who is the first child of a very rich family who is trying to climb the ladder even more.

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