today is DannyDay! (22 years???)💚🩶
...and unfortunately I have nothing to post today... I couldn't finish a sequence of my fav Sibling duo in time. There is still much to do and don't want to rush it. i can only give you a small preview.
SUMMARY: Ever since your boyfriend Jake transformed from his nerdy high-school self into the university's star football player, you've become everything you thought you’d never be. Jealous. Anxious. Clingy. But Jake really doesn't mind your newfound possessiveness. Really. He encourages it, even. So when he defies expectations again to star in a musical with a stunning costar, you spiral. Now, the “lowkey” relationship you once insisted on gets jeopardized under the weight of your own insecurities.
PAIRING: popular!jake x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 24k+
GENRE: secret!relationship au, university!au, grumpy gf x sunshine bf (?), smut, angst, fluff, some toxic themes
WARNINGS: mdni, nsfw, graphic sexual content, y/n lowkey mean, ragebaiter!bf jake, tsundere!gf reader, he want that cookie bad, jealousy, avoidancy, football = soccer (im sorry to 🦅). Full list to be updated.
► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - assassin!Mingi x "blind"!reader ◄
► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - workplace au, suspense trope, psychological thriller, nerve-wracking tension, generalised dark themes, close calls (you almost get caught multiple times), forced proximity, power imbalance, depravity, emotional blackmail, gaslighting, glorified ignorance, plot twist, etc. (TBA, work ongoing) ◄
► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!! cold-blooded murder (semi-descriptive), dark themes revolving around assassination, Mingi is pretty depraved so be warned, eventual smut, etc. (TBA, work ongoing) ◄
► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - TBA ◄
► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - A simple morning walk to clear your head for your upcoming job interview turns into a nightmare when you witness a brutal murder in broad daylight. In a panic, you pretend to be blind to escape. By sheer miracle, the man lets you go, and you thought that was that. You tried to forget what you saw, focusing on your job interview, but there was one problem - you were once again face to face with the man from the trail, and he was now your boss. ◄
► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - !! This is just a preview and not the whole story !! I'm still in hiatus, but hopefully, that'll change soon. If you want to be tagged when the full story comes out, please leave a comment or something. Do "❤️" if you want to be part of the permanent taglist. Do "🖤" if you want to be tagged only for this specific story. ◄
► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @mallielovssyou @jenluvzen @lovebuggjoy @mingiblossoms @crybabydollette @mustardmilkshake @asesinas @minyunsan-kitten ◄
“Your call has been forwarded to voice mail. Please try again later…”
Disappointment fills your chest as a sigh bubbles up from the depths of them. This was ridiculous, you vehemently thought as you paced around your living room, tossing your phone haphazardly on your couch, not even caring where it landed. Everything about this was ridiculous.
For weeks, you’ve been on the hunt for a job after your last one didn’t work out the way you panned it out to be. It was a lot more frustrating than you would’ve liked it to be because it was like staring out into the void - a whole lot of nothing. It wasn’t like you didn’t try either; you’ve been quite diligent at submitting resumés literally everywhere, and when that didn’t pan out, you’d directly call the company to inquire.
If they weren’t going to call you, then hell, you were going to reach out to them. No harm done. Except that was leading you absolutely nowhere either.
“Still nothing?”
You paused your pacing, immediately turning your head to the sound of your best friend’s voice. “Jesus, I forgot you were still here,” you chuckled, combing your fingers through your hair to soothe yourself. “No, unfortunately. I’m about to lose my goddamn mind, I swear.”
Wooyoung clicked his tongue softly, nodding in understanding, his eyes dropping into that rare softness you only saw when he was trying to give you your well-needed space. “It’s not your fault,” he shrugged, pushing himself off your doorway to make his way towards you. “The market’s just surprisingly oversaturated. And it’s not like you’re underqualified, you literally speak four other languages.”
“I mean it’s not like I’m completely out of options,” you said. “I do have an upcoming interview with KQ Corporation, but I’m not holding my breath for it. I applied for a random position and they’re literally the biggest company in the country so I’m trying to broaden my prospects.”
Wooyoung whistled, impressed. “KQ? Goddamn. That’s tough, good luck with that one. Though I think you should be fine. Our company is, what, almost on par with KQ and you still got in.”
Your face bunched up in vexation, a grimace making its way up your lips. “As you can see that didn’t really do anything for me,” you scoffed, the bitter taste of your old job suddenly making its way in your mouth. “I got hired to speak German, Wooyoung, and then they started talking to me in French. Do I look like I know how to speak French?”
“Lee was a piece of rubbish shit,” he jeered, waving a dismissive hand, lazily plopping down your couch to make himself comfortable as if he always belonged there and lived here instead of you. “I’m about to honestly quit too, I hate working for the guy.”
“If you want to end up jobless like me, then be my fucking guest, I suppose,” you laughed sarcastically, not intending for it to come out snappier than it did.
Wooyoung’s brows both rose in surprise. “Woah, easy there, tiger. Didn’t mean to pee in your cereal bowl or whatever,” he frowned. There was a second of silence before he sighed. “Seriously, though, are you alright? I know the job-hunting is getting to you…”
The way he asked it made your stomach turn. Your throat clenched. You swallowed hard, but the lump stayed there, thick and immovable. “I’m fine,” you reassured when his eyes still didn’t leave yours.
It was more than the waiting game or the unanswered calls - it was waking up with nowhere to be, no reason to rush, no proof that you were needed anywhere at all. You told yourself it was temporary, but the longer it stretched on, the more it started to feel personal, like the world was moving forward, and you were stuck watching from behind a pane of glass.
Wooyoung just stared at you. Finally, he rolled his eyes, a small smirk tugging up the corner of his lips. “It’s a nice day outside,” he began softly, his voice contrasting the mischievous look on his face. “Why don’t you take a walk? Clear that bitch out of you or something before I get pissed at you for giving me attitude.”
And just like that, that glass cracked. Quietly, like it was set down but not quite shattered. You scoffed in disbelief, not being able to stop the laughter that bubbled up your throat. Without a word, you grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair, shoving your arms through the sleeves, movements jerky and frustrated yet determined and energised.
“Are you going to be fine alone, though?” You asked, holding onto the door frame as you carefully put your shoes on, looking back to hear his response. “I won’t be gone for long.”
Wooyoung let out a dramatic scoff like you had just insulted him. “Go before I chuck the nearest thing I can get my hands on at you,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Take your time. I don’t want to be disturbed as I raid your fridge and your wine rack.”
You rolled your eyes, but the sting behind them had dulled. You chose to hide them behind your sunglasses. Before you closed the door, you looked back at him one more time and you saw the sarcasm in his eyes melt into something warmer. Wooyoung tilted his head, gaze gentler than his words. “Go,” he urged. “And bring an umbrella in case it rains.”
You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets and started aimlessly walking. The walking trail was only a couple of minutes away by foot, but being lost in your head made it feel like it was kilometres away.
At least the trail was pretty. It was lush and full of life; full of unexplored possibilities that brought you back to your childhood wanting to explore every rocky path and staircase that disappeared into the trees. All you knew was that you wanted to walk away from your responsibilities even if it’s only temporary. You were hoping that the fresh air might change something.
For now, you wanted to walk away from yourself. Whatever you were feeling was a pill you couldn’t swallow whole. So, instead, it had swallowed you whole and was now following your thoughts. For now, you kept walking. Not towards anything, just away.
You were currently on the highest part of the trail, on top of that winding staircase that nobody wanted to traverse given how many steps it demanded of anyone brave enough to try. By the time most people reached the halfway point, they were already turning back, laughing breathlessly and deciding the rest simply wasn’t worth it.
That suited you perfectly. Most people preferred the livelier parts anyway, but this place? This isolated, forgotten corner? It was easily the most beautiful part of it. You liked that no one bothered climbing all the way up, and because of that, its beauty remained untouched. No one ever came up here. That was exactly why you loved it.
It was where your phone buzzed in your pocket. Without looking, you picked up, thinking it was Wooyoung, but it wasn’t. It was one of the companies that you applied for; another one that said you were on their waitlist. Suddenly, the view started to fade into the background, your mood souring entirely.
“I could put you on hold until upper management is free,” the lady on the phone uttered monotonously as if you were just another voice on their roster they had to get rid of. “Though I’m not sure how long that would be.”
“I’ll wait,” you gritted out, trying not to sound let down. You gripped the phone tighter like it was the only thing tethering you to the ground, the telltale music on the other end as you were put on hold ringing in your ear like a heartbeat you didn’t want to hear.
You knew how this was going to end. It was only one of two; either they put you on hold long enough where you knew they’re doing it on purpose and you’d have no choice but to hang up, or they’d pick up to tell you that they’ll put you on top of their waitlist. You’re just surprised your eyes haven’t gotten stuck behind your brain by how much you rolled them at this point.
But you were in a good mood today. You absentmindedly idled around, still taking in the view as you held the phone to your ear, waiting for what you already knew. Whatever, you thought. If this doesn’t work, you still have KQ. Hopefully.
You dug your free hand inside your pocket, taking out the company card you always carried. For good luck, you suppose. You turned the card over between your fingers, the weight of it surprising you every time. Your thumb traced over the embossed letters, in awe of how luxurious even that felt across your fingertips.
KQ Corporation. Of course, you wanted in. They were the best of the best; the crème de la crème of the business world. You’d be set for life. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You weren’t special for wanting it. You were just one in the thousands upon thousands of applicants who wanted their piece of the prestige.
You must’ve been so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t notice that you walked into the deeper part of the trail, the one where you didn’t even venture in because the brush was thicker and the trees were denser. It was mostly unkempt because barely anyone went in here. You cursed under your breath when you looked back. You were so high up that going down would take a while because it was steeper to walk down than up.
You decided to walk a little further to find a path that wasn’t as steep, but that turned out to be a huge mistake. Your shoelaces got caught on one of the exposed tree roots that you barely noticed, causing you to trip unceremoniously, dropping everything you held in your hand to catch yourself before you cracked your skull on the nearby tree trunk, using your umbrella to cushion your fall.
You stayed where you fell, palms pressed into the dirt, annoyed at your clumsiness before you started picking your stuff up from the leafy ground of the walking trail. Your phone was only a couple of steps away from you, and so were your sunglasses, but your wallet, it wasn’t anywhere near you. Confused, your eyes scanned the ground, and that’s when you spotted it lying on the other side of the trail, further than where it should have been.
With a small groan, you crawled to wherever it was, not caring about the dirt on your clothes. As you were about to grab the worn leather, you stilled, fingers hovering above it. There were voices - two male ones, in fact - and they were close. A little too close for your liking.
At first, you were going to ignore it, thinking that they were people who ventured a little too far on the trail just like you, but when you heard the distinct sounds of an altercation, it got your attention. Still, it was none of your business. It was an argument you did not want to involve yourself in.
It was the sharp, guttural sound of someone getting choked that had you going completely dead still. Your head automatically lifts to find the source, and there they were. Just beyond the trees was a taller, much bigger man pinning an older man against a tree, his hand wrapped tightly around the other’s throat.
Your chest wanted to cave in. You weren’t supposed to see this. From where they stood, you can tell that nobody was meant to see this at all. But that wasn’t why your gut was churning; you knew deep inside, that you were not supposed to be seen watching this unfold. You didn’t dare move, didn’t even dare breathe in fear that they’ll hear.
The older man choked out a pitiful sound, his fingers desperately clawing the other man’s fingers away from his neck as his face turned into a concerning shade of purple as he struggled for some sort of leverage. “P-Please,” you heard him wheeze weakly. “You c-can’t…”
You were horrified as you watched the taller man tilt his head slightly, not bothering to say a word. He didn’t even look strained as he held the older man hostage even though you knew it must take great strength to force someone’s head against a surface. Hell, you felt like you were straining more trying not to breathe or move.
As the pinned man garbled strings of random words that reeked of desperate mercy, you took this opportunity to stare at the taller man. He was magnetic, and not in a good way. He was broad, menacing in ways that threatened you even from where you sat. His expression was eerily blank as if he wasn’t actively choking the life out of this man.
But his eyes...you did not like them. For a split second as the older man seemed to blabber on and on, his eyes seemed to darken, like an ominous shadow enveloping the humanity in it. Or, perhaps, the complete lack of it.
“I-I’ll do it, please, I’ll pay you, give you w-what you want,” the man gasped, his eyes rolling at the back of his head.
The other man scoffs softly. “I don’t need your money.”
Shivers erupted from your skin at the tone of his voice. It wasn’t that it was low, rough, and rugged - though that certainly was a huge factor. It was the first time you heard him speak after all the broken cries of the other man and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it again. If his actions already freaked you out, hearing him talk definitely was not going to help.
“Please, put me down,” the older man croaked pitifully. “P-Put it down.”
It?
That’s when you saw the thing that set this apart from a regular fight between two men. Your eyes settled on the gun the taller man held in his free hand, your stomach dropping as he lifted it, pressing the cold metal on the struggling man’s temple. The motion was sure and final, like this wasn’t the first time he’d ever been on the other side of the trigger.
You wanted to throw up. You were done for. You had to get away from here, but how? One wrong move and you were sure you’d be next. You were about to watch someone die and there was nothing you could do about it without giving yourself away.
The man’s face had gone blotchy, veins straining as he forced words out past the pressure. “Y-You,” he let out with much difficulty. “You’re going to regret t-this.”
The taller man didn’t react. He just blinked, nodding slowly. “Will I?” He asked, genuinely curious of the answer he might hear next. You wanted to whimper at his sheer indifference.
The pinned man sucked in a broken breath, desperation sharpening his voice. “You think no one’s gonna c-come looking? You’re not untouchable–”
His tirade gets interrupted, letting out a small cry when the man presses the gun more firmly against his head. Your heart just about dropped to your foot at the brash gesture while the latter just lets out a quiet exhale, his fingers visibly tightening even more on the former’s throat.
“Why would that matter to you? You'll be long gone by then,” he murmured, the faintest hint of something dark curling at the edge of his tone.
“D-Do you not know who I am? This is—”
“I do,” the taller man interrupts him again, gentler this time. That just made it worse, in your opinion. “And that is exactly why you’re here.”
You were surprised when he suddenly let go, and clearly, the older man as well. He wasn’t thrown to the ground like a rag doll, he was just released, crumpling to the floor as he took in big gulps of the breath that was almost taken from him, dirt smearing all over his clothes as he tried to get away from his captor.
But none of that mattered. The relief was short lived as the taller man took one unhurried step forward, bracing his leg firmly on the ground as he lifted the gun in the air, the finality of it sealing all of your fates - the killer, the victim, and the witness.
Blood drained from your face, but you couldn’t move. It was so morbid, but you just couldn’t look away. The man on the ground trembled, pure and unadulterated panic taking over his entire form. “No, no, wait, p-please,” he begged. “You’re not going to get away with this, Song. People will ask, and they will find you. Don’t do this—”
The taller man stared down at him, expression unchanged save for the slight twitch on the corner of his lips. “You’re right,” he said softly, almost thoughtfully, voice barely audible. “It is highly unusual for big animals to not leave footprints in the snow.”
A soft click fills the air. It was the gun being cocked back in preparation for that one shot, but in the silence of the trail, it sounded like a bone being snapped in half. “But, the thing is,” he continued, eerily calm. “I have very, very small feet.”
Bang.
Don't forget to leave a comment if you want to be part of the taglist. I'll see you all real soon. Much love.
Aerion Targaryen returned from Lys with a reputation he couldn't outrun: violence, cruelty, whispers of a murder no one could prove. Three years abroad hadn't fixed him. Some things just can’t be fixed. She was everything he wasn't. Beloved by millions, the people's princess, the one person in Westeros with nothing to hide. When their families struck a deal, a marriage, her smile to polish his image, his family's money to fund her father’s growing network, it seemed simple. A transaction. A performance. A lie they were both willing to tell. But in a world where perception is everything, the most dangerous thing they could do is fall for each other.
Modern Aerion! x Celebrity! Reader [Fake Dating]
The screen flickered to life, a familiar face filling the frame. Raymun Fossoway leaned back in his chair, his headset tilted at an angle, his eyes scanning the chat as it scrolled past in a blur of emojis and caps-locked speculation.
"Okay, okay," he said, holding up a hand. "I know we're all losing our minds. I know. But let's just- let's take a breath. Let's look at what we actually know."
The chat exploded again. He grinned, pulling up a second window on his monitor, the King's Landing Herald's breaking news banner, the headline in bold black lettering:
AERION TARGARYEN RETURNS TO WESTEROS AFTER THREE YEARS IN LYS.
"Breaking news," Raymun read aloud, his voice slipping into a mock-serious newscaster tone. "The prodigal son has returned. Sources confirm Aerion Targaryen landed at King's Landing International this morning, accompanied by private security and what witnesses describe as 'a significant amount of luggage.' No word yet on why the Targaryen Industries heir has returned after his mysterious three year absence." He dropped the act, leaning forward. "Mysterious. That's the word they're using. Not 'exile.' Not 'hiding.' Just... mysterious."
The chat buzzed:
DrunkOnDornishRed: he killed someone.
InSevenHells: 100% he killed someone
SirenSupporter: my uncle works at TI he said the family sent him away after the Summerhall thing
TheStranger: SUMMERHALL?!!?
SilverPrince: what happened at Summerhall??
Raymun read a few aloud, nodding slowly. "Yeah, the Summerhall rumors are... they're a lot. I've been digging. There was a body. That much is confirmed. But whether Aerion had anything to do with it? No one's ever been charged. No one's even been named. It's all whispers."
He pulled up another tab, a grainy photograph of Aerion stepping off a private jet, his silver hair unmistakable even from a distance, his face unreadable behind dark glasses. Three men in suits flanked him, their expressions blank, their hands empty but ready.
"Look at him," Raymun said. "Look at that face. Does that look like a man who's happy to be back?"
TargCrime: he looks ready to terrorise us again
WessyWatch: you can tell he did NOT sleep
BaelorsToe: bro looks like my sleep paralysis demon fr
AerionStepOnMe: ok but he's still hot though 😩
Raymun snorted. "I mean, yeah. Genetics lottery. But let's not forget-"
He pulled up another headline:
AERION TARGARYEN: A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE.
"Old news," he said, scrolling past. "But the new news? The real news? Is that his father didn't come to get him. His brothers didn't come. Baelor Targaryen was at a charity gala last night and when reporters asked him about Aerion's return, he said-"
Raymun tapped a key, and a clip played: Baelor, composed and smiling, stepping away from a microphone, saying, "My nephew's return is a family matter. I'm sure you understand."
Raymun paused the clip. "That's not a yes. That's not a no. That's a 'I'm not touching this with a ten-foot pole.' "
The chat had already moved on, the comments scrolling fast enough to blur.
TargaryenTea: baelor said 'that's not my problem' in corporate LOL
GoldenBoyFan: Bro wants NOTHING to do with this 😭😭
StormlandsLoyalist: tbf would YOU want to be associated with the family murderer
FreeMyManAerion: he didn't even say his NAME AHAHA
FireAndBlood_92: baelor heard 'aerion' and chose peace 😭
Raymun scanned the chat, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Okay, okay, the Baelor discourse is- yeah, it's valid. He really said 'my nephew' like they're distant cousins who see each other at weddings"
ThreeHeadedDragon: baelor practicing that line in the mirror for weeks
TheStranger: Ik that family group chat is going OFFF right now
SirenSupporter: imagine the family dinner after this 💀💀
HotPieEats: 'so how was Lys' 'don't' 💀
Raymun laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, look, we don't know what happened between them. But if my nephew got sent to Lys for three years and I was the one who stayed, I'd probably keep some distance too." He paused, reading another comment. "Yeah, someone says 'baelor didn't visit once.' Is that true? I- actually, I don't know. But the optics aren't great."
TargCrime: 'i was in the area' energy
DrunkOnDornishRed: baelor: 'praying for your journey 🙏'
HoldMeBackFromDaeron: baelor: 'thoughts and prayers'
AerionStepOnMe: aerion watching that interview like 👁️👄👁️
Raymun scrolled, still laughing. "You guys are ruthless. We don't even know what happened. For all we know, Baelor's been fighting to bring him back this whole time."
The chat was immediate:
StormlandLoyalist: why didn't he go to lys
MoonteaConnoisseur:'family matter' = i am not touching that
TheLastDragonrider: uncle of the year award goes to... NOT baelor
Raymun held up his hands. "Okay, okay. Fair points. But let's not pretend any of us would be lining up to defend Aerion Targaryen either. The man has-" he glanced at the chat, reading the latest comment, and snorted. "Someone says 'he has the energy of a guy who's killed someone and would do it again.
Raymun opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. His eyes caught something else in the chat; a link, posted and reposted, spreading faster than the speculation. His eyebrows went up.
"Oh," he said. "Oh, this is good."
He clicked the link. A different headline, from a different outlet, Baratheon News Network. The font was sleeker, the tone more polished, but the words were unmistakable:
EXCLUSIVE: PRINCE AERION'S FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE ALONGSIDE A VERY SURPRISING DATE.
Raymun's eyebrows went up. He clicked the video.
The footage was shaky, phone quality, clearly shot from across a crowded restaurant. Aerion Targaryen sat at a corner table, his hands wrapped around a glass of something dark. And across from him, half hidden by the angle, was a woman. Dark hair, a profile that could only belong to one person.
The chat went absolutely silent for three seconds. Then:
FreeMyManAerion: NOO!!! NOT MY MANN
HoldMeBackFromDaeron: THERES NO WAY IN SEVEN HELLS
StormlandLoyalist: IS THAT THE PEOPLE'S PRINCESS?!?
Stagflation: LYONEL BARATHEONS DAUGHTER???
MoonteaConnoisseur: THEE SIREN????
Raymun let the video play. The woman, the Siren, the people's princess, the one person in Westeros with a reputation cleaner than fresh snow, leaned forward, said something to Aerion that made him almost smile, and then the video cut out.
Raymun turned back to the camera, his face caught somewhere between disbelief and glee.
"Well," he said. "That's not a PR stunt. That's a PR nuclear weapon."
SirenSupporter: siren girlbossing too close to the sun i fear
FreeMyManAerion: she's gonna fix him
WessyWatch: no she's gonna get murdered
The chat was already on fire. He read the first comment that caught his eye, his voice barely containing his laughter:
TheStranger: they're either in love or about to murder each other. Either way, I'm watching.
Raymun pointed at the screen. "Same, chat. Same."
He leaned back, folding his arms, his eyes still on the frozen image of Aerion and her sat across a candlelit table.
"This is going to be a disaster," he said. "And I am absolutely here for it."
Notes:
I’m was itching to write this, so glad it’s finally happening! I tried to make the chats funny guys but I’m not the best 😭
The first chapter will be out on this coming Friday :) Although I may need to put the 'Hung by a Thread' sequel on hold </3
