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dragonbarbie · 2 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: aemond targaryen is tasked with bringing the stormlands to his brother's side. but when he arrives he finds the new regent, old lord Borros' young widow, isn't as pliant as he had anticipated. he finds himself drawn to the poised, commanding lady of storm's end, much to his horror. but he refuses to leave without bringing this storm to heel

word count: 12 k (ye gotta suffer for ye smut what can i say)

tags: mentions of past forced/arranged marriage, reader is a member of a minor baratheon branch and is Borros' widow but no other traits are described, smut, handjob, choking kink, fingering, p in v sex, hate sex, creampie, cowgirl, mention of moontea, hints of dom!aemond? or hes just being a control freak i mean the line is very thin [lmk if i missed something]

sidenote: this was such a fun one shot to write, i was writing aemond after so long i think i got a bit carried away hytftgyhuijo do comment/ask and lmk if you'd like this as a series cause i might just have ideas for that

The hall of Storm’s End was cold, the stone walls rising around you as you watched the storm raging outside through the window, expecting to see your guest arrive at the dreary scene any minute. The screech of a dragon approaching managed to reach you, louder even than the sound of thunder. You did not wait to catch a glimpse of the creature for yourself, instead your black gown swept as you made your way to your late husband’s seat, the dark fabric pooling around your feet as you sat, spilling over the stone like a dark tide.

The unmistakable roar of Vhagar’s wings heralded Aemond Targaryen’s arrival, accompanied by a loud ‘thump’ of what you imagined was the ground straining under the beasts feet, to signal just how close to your home the dragon had landed. The dragon’s arrival even rattled the windows, a reminder of the power the prince carried with him—power you knew he intended to wield like a blade. Your jaw tightened for a brief moment. Vhagar’s presence wasn’t just a spectacle, a grand display of power and might; it was a threat.

Your lips curled ever so slightly in distaste. The prince’s arrival on the back of a dragon, no less the largest alive, was nothing less than a veiled threat. He wanted you to know the might of the greens, to feel the heat of dragonfire on your doorstep.

You stretched out your hands and placed them on the arms of the stone seat, chin up, back straight; determined, to be seen as a commanding presence. You wore no crown, but you would impress that this was your land. Your posture must reflect as if you were carved from the same storm-hardened stone that made the keep, a Baratheon through and through, even if from a lesser branch of the family.

You belonged here, not merely as the old lord’s widow and the new one’s mother, but by your own right too – you had to hold onto that as the gates to the hall were flung open after a few minutes of anticipation.

In he stepped—Aemond One-Eye, cloaked in Targaryen arrogance, his long strides purposeful, each movement precise, till he reached the middle of the hall. His single eye fell upon you immediately, his gaze sharp and assessing, like a man who expected you to yield at the first word. You did not move.

After a few seconds, he continued his steps once more and you let him approach, watched him close the distance until he stood before you. Then, with all the decorum expected of his blood, he bent low and kissed your hand. “My lady Baratheon.” His voice sounded as cold as his hand felt against yours.

“Prince Aemond,” you said, your voice as smooth as silk, yet laced with an undercurrent of steel. “Storm’s End bids you welcome… and your dragon.” you tilted your head ever so slightly, the hint of a smile on your lips. “I must say, it is not every day one finds a beast as colossal as Vhagar at their gates. Her presence is... difficult to miss.”

Aemond straightened, his eye narrowing ever so slightly. “Vhagar’s presence is a reminder of the strength our House offers to those wise enough to stand with it, my lady. A reminder, of a promise of protection.”

“A reminder,” you mused, leaning back in your chair as though you held all the time in the world, “or a threat?”

His lips twitched, not quite a smile, but close. “Only to those who would stand against us, my lady.”

“Ah,” your eyes danced with playfulness, “and I suppose I must decide whether to accept this…. protection…or risk the wrath of your beast?” Your displeasure at being forced to house the ancient creature as you made the decision about whom to side with was clear. Vhagar’s presence cast such a long shadow, it hung over every word that was spoken in that great hall. You knew Otto Hightower had expected the mere presence of the dragon would encourage the frail, young lady, who’d only been appointed regent because she had the good fortune to give birth to a son unlike Lord Baratheon’s first wife, to come on side without much fuss. You were going to cause him much disappointment.

Vhagar might be mighty, but you would not give in to the feeling of fear at her attendance. You would stand your ground before the prince, and not let him make the mistake to think that he could intimidate you.

Hands clasping behind his back, the prince’s good eye bore into your face, his voice low, laced with a hint of warning “you appear to be a wise woman to me, my lady. You understand how unwise it is to provoke a dragon.”

You laughed softly, the sound ringing across the otherwise eerily quiet hall “Is that what I’m doing, Prince Aemond? Prodding at the dragon’s belly?”

He was trying to impose upon you the upper hand he held, to dangle the danger of his dragon over your head to get you to agree to his demands – you deflected it as if by a flick of your wrist, which left him surprised. He knew you understood him perfectly well, and he was starting to understand you too now, as you lifted your hand to your chin, and leaned on your palm to watch him almost lazily.

Your eyes sparkled with an unspoken challenge as you watched him, letting the silence linger, enjoying the way his patience seemed to thin with each passing second. You could tell he was uncomfortable with how the tension had shifted, though his eyes never left yours and his expression betrayed nothing but you observed how his nose flared up in an indication of the underlying anger and frustration. He was a dragon, yes—but one that had yet to learn patience. You would teach him.

“You know why I’ve come,” he finally said, trying to pull the conversation back into his control. “My grandsire has written to you already of my intent. A marriage alliance between our houses. I would take in marriage one of your stepdaughters, in exchange for the strength of the Stormlands at our back.”

“Ah,” you sighed, “such a generous offer. The strength of Storm’s End married to the might of your house would certainly be something. At the very least it would ensure your brother cannot be defeated outright in a land battle.” You had gone over this with your husband’s advisers multiple times, you knew the strength of your army, the advantages it brought to either side, like the back of your hand. “And yet…” you paused, lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. Aemond straightened his back, tapping his leathered foot, realising you were not going to make his work easy.

“… I have to wonder, why you think I would choose the promises of the Hand over the promises of… others?” you spokepointedly but did not mention the name of his half-sister Rhaenyra, but he understood where you were signalling. “Your brother is not the only claimant with dragons.”

Aemond forcefully replied, in an attempt to demonstrate his advantage while keeping his bubbling anger in check, “The largest dragon in the realm is before your gates. The whore of Dragonstone with her bastards could never match Vhagar.”

His words were filled with vitriol, but they did not move the lady Baratheon. You simply mused “I confess, the notion of the mighty Vhagar at my beck and call is... tempting–” Aemond’s jaw clenched at how you implied him or his dragon would be at your ‘beck and call,’ but he bit back his tongue “–but power is a fickle thing, your grace, is it not? Today, it flies at my gates; tomorrow, it may burn them. If not your dragons’, then your half-sister’s. To stand with either one of you is to stand against the other. And their dragons.”

Aemond took another step forward, refusing to let your words unsettle him. “Storm’s End has always been loyal to the Crown. We expect no less now.”

“Yes but which crown must we bow to now remains unclear, yet.” You casually replied as you rose from your seat, the dark material of your gown swirling around your feet once more. The firelight caught the fabric, casting shifting shadows that made you seem like a figure from a half-forgotten tale – larger than life, and ethereal, not quite inhabiting the same plane as the prince. “As I am sure you are aware my late husband’s father swore an oath to support Rhaenyra. While I do not dismiss this hand of friendship your grandsire, the Hand has offered us, I cannot accept it either.” You met his gaze as you looked up at him, unflinching, your smile pleasing yet razor-sharp. “Loyalty, Prince Aemond, is a curious thing. It can shift, like the sea winds of this land. And I... well, I would prefer to remain more flexible in my allegiances. At least until I’ve had time for some careful consideration.”

Impatience grew within Aemond, you could see the tension in how rigidly he stood. He could sense you were slipping from his grasp, just as easily as the wind slipped through the cracks of your keep’s stone walls. He needed to push harder, to make you commit.

“This is a matter of great urgency, my lady, I—” He was about to press further when you let out a soft sigh and brought a hand to your temple, feigning weariness. “Forgive me, my prince, but I find myself dreadfully fatigued. The burdens of leadership weigh heavily on one such as I. You must understand... after all, I am but a woman, and we are so very frail. We were not built to rule you see… is that not the core reason your brother has raised his banners against the Princess after all?” your eyes seemed to goad the prince to challenge you on your words.

Aemond clenched his folded hands behind him, but betrayed none of the irritation simmering beneath his surface. He could see right through your act. There was nothing frail about the Lady Y/N Baratheon. This was another move in your game, a way to delay him. You were stalling, that much was clear.

“Lady Y/N,” he began, stepping forward again, “we cannot afford—”

“There will be time, Prince Aemond,” you interrupted, finality in your tone, a dismissal thinly veiled behind sweetness “Plenty of time to discuss alliances and armies. Storm’s End is yours for as long as you need it. Make yourself at home.”

Aemond stiffened, realizing that you had no intention of continuing this conversation tonight. You were dismissing him, and there was nothing he could do to force your hand without showing his own weakness.

You turned then, moving toward the doorway with a graceful ease that contradicted your words of weariness. Aemond was fuming with frustration which had finally sept through the cracks of his unbothered exterior. This was the first task he had been assigned as they had started to draw their banners, the first contribution he was expected to make for his family’s cause. He refused to go back empty handed. To win the Baratheon’s to their side was his duty, and he had no intention of returning without anything other than the Stormlands in his pocket.

Just as you reached the threshold, you stopped, casting a glance over your shoulder, your voice light but edged with mockery. “Oh, and do let the staff know whatever your beast will be having. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would we?”

Aemond’s grinded his teeth at how you were daring to treat Vhagar as if she were no more than a hound at the gates. His dragon, the largest and most fearsome alive, reduced to a mere beast by your dismissive words. Aemond would not find it so easy to deal with the new lady of Storm’s end as most had expected. Borros’s widow may not have the years of experience to strengthen her, she was a young thing yet, that the old lord had married for the purpose of producing him sons; yet, even he would have never expected you to become this formidable a defender of his seat as you had become.

He watched as you disappeared into the shadows, having given him nothing. Everything in your manner told him one thing: this woman would not bend easily.

You stood beside the bed, watching the rise and fall of your son’s little chest. Seeing him safe and sound was all that kept you going, so whenever your mind would be distressed over the politics and games around you, you would try to be around your son to remind yourself why you were doing all of this in the first place.

Royce slept soundly, a peaceful expression on his innocent face, his tiny hand curled around the edge of his blanket. But peace was an illusion here in Storm’s End, where every decision threatened to shatter the fragile balance you were fighting to maintain. You smoothed a stray lock of dark hair from his brow, your heart heavy with the burden of his future. All this you did for him, to ensure his safety, his future, his seat. One wrong move, and you would not pay for it alone.

Behind you, the crackling fire in the hearth could not chase away the cold reality of the letter from Rhaenyra, now resting on your writing desk – it served as a reminder for you, a reminder that a storm was brewing outside. Ser Byron Swann finally brought you out of your brooding thoughts. “You’ve been quiet for some time, my lady,” came Ser Byron’s voice, tinged with concern as he stepped forward, his armour gently clinking in the quiet room. Byron had been a faithful bannerman to your late husband, and so far to you. You appreciated his counsel and concern.

Not taking your eyes off Royce, you spoke “To choose incorrectly would mean risking his future. The Stormlands could tear itself apart.” Your bannermen, always watching you with suspicion for being a woman who dared to hold power over them, had already whispered their concerns. Some remembered the oath Borros’ father had sworn to Rhaenyra years ago, binding them to her claim. Others had made their displeasure plain—a woman on the Iron Throne, abomination they had muttered darkly, displeased with the idea of a queen ruling over them. The Stormlands was teetering on the brink of division. Then there was the fear of dragons, which prevailed over all else.

You straightened, hand lingering on the bedpost as you turned away from the sight of your son and addressed your counsel more directly. “Choosing Rhaenyra might honour the oath, but it could also fracture the Stormlands beyond repair. Choosing the Greens...” You hesitated, the thought of Aemond Targaryen flashing briefly through your mind. “...may bring us under the protection of dragons, but at what cost?” Otto Hightower was perhaps the most infamous schemer in the land, and the ‘King’ Aegon was by all accounts a useless drunk. Not to mention his younger brother…

Byron crossed his arms, brow furrowed. “Neutrality is not an option either, not with the eyes of both sides upon us.”

You sighed wearily, and agreed “No, choosing neither would invite war right to our doorstep instead.” You paced toward the hearth, placing a hand on the frame of the fireplace as you watched the flickering flames that seemed to reflect your thoughts, anxiously moving, untamed. You had been strong when facing the prince, unwilling to back down or give away any fears you might privately have. Now you had no need to hold onto such a façade, you could admit to yourself that this was an extremely slippery situation you and the Stormlands were in. Your brow furrowed with worry as you looked into the flames, willing for an answer to leap out from them.

Byron's eyes followed you closely. As if he could read your mind, he tried to voice your thoughts “There is no right choice, my lady, you can only hope to pick the lesser of two dangers.” If only you could tell which was which, you thought of who Borros would pick momentarily, but then found yourself thinking that you’d never much cared for his strategic opinion anyway, so there was no reason to rely upon it now.

“what did my lady think of the Hightower’s messenger, the one-eyed prince?” Swann curiously asked.

What did she think of Aemond? A dangerous man, undoubtedly—sharp, calculating, and ever poised for battle, even when the fight was merely in words.

And yet… there was something more. Something you would not, could not, name aloud. His cold, unyielding demeanour stirred something in you—something that made you wary, but also intrigued. Aemond Targaryen was not a man easily thwarted, and that made him dangerous. His arrogance was palpable, his strength undeniable, but beneath that was a fire, simmering just beneath the surface. You had seen it in his eye, in the way he watched you. His features were sculpted as if by marble, standing so close to him you could see why your septa use to tell you the Targaryens were closer to gods than men, you had verified the fantastical accounts of their Valyrian beauty for yourself. You found yourself tilting on the side of agreement with those opinions.

Your fingers tightened ever so slightly on the stone beneath it as you leaned towards the fire. You weren’t a fool. You knew the allure of power, of danger. And Aemond embodied both.

The memory of Aemond’s lingering touch when he kissed your hand, and the veiled threat of the dragon that waited outside your walls, sent a chill down your spine.

You drew in a slow breath, forcing yourself to focus. Attractive or not you could not afford to be distracted by immodest thoughts of the Targaryen prince, not when everything hung in such a precarious balance.

You turned back to meet Ser Byron’s eyes with your own hardened gaze. “Only that to take Aemond Targaryen lightly could prove to be a grave mistake.”

Aemond stood at the narrow window of his assigned chambers, watching the endless churn of the sea beyond Storm’s End. The wind here was relentless, beating against the stone walls with the same fury that seemed to linger in the air since his arrival. It matched his mood—restless, frustrated. He had come to Storm’s End to secure an alliance, to bring the Baratheons to his brother’s cause. But instead, he found his thoughts tangled in something far more distracting.

Lady Y/N Baratheon.

He stepped away from the window and moved towards the small desk, settling into the chair. A half-written letter to his grandsire lay before him, waiting to be finished. The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room. Aemond dipped his quill into the ink and resumed writing.

My Lord Hand, I arrived at Storm’s End to find the lady regent in full command of her seat. Y/N Baratheon is not as easily persuaded, as was expected...

His quill paused. His mind drifted back to your first meeting in the great hall. You had been seated on the Baratheon throne, the seat of you late husband. Yet you did not look out of place in it for a second, one could have been easily forgiven for mistaking to think you had been born to it and were not merely guarding it as your son’s keeper. Your alluring eyes had met his without flinching, without the slightest hint of deference. You were calculating, composed, and beautiful—there was no denying that. But it was more than just your appearance that held his attention. There was something in you that challenged him, intrigued him.

Aemond set down the quill on the table with force, flexing his hand in frustration. The same hand, he realised as he looked down upon it, which had held your own to his lips only hours ago. He had felt it then, a pull. A quiet draw towards you that had nothing to do with the game of politics and alliances.

He had seen it in the way you looked at him, how your eyes had lingered when he kissed the back of your palm—a small, fleeting moment that had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He had sensed it the moment you welcomed him with that cold smile, that hint of mockery in your tone when you’d spoken of his dragon. Vhagar was meant to remind you of what he could bring to bear against your house, yet the you had barely blinked. Instead, you’d made a jest of it, turning the veiled threat back on him with the ease of a seasoned player in the game.

You wielded your wit like a blade, much like he wielded his sword. You had unsettled him in a way he hadn’t expected. And that pull he felt towards you was as unwelcome as it was undeniable.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. This was not what he had come here for. He was not a boy, not some green fool led astray by a pretty face and a clever tongue. He was here for duty—for the future of his house. For his brother’s crown. Y/N Baratheon might be all captivating, but she was merely a pawn he needed on his side, nothing more.

Aemond shook his head and returned to the letter.

I will continue to press our advantage and remind them where true power lies.

With a resolute shake of his head, Aemond signed his name to the letter.

Duty. Only duty.

The days at Storm’s End had settled into a routine of formal dinners and polite conversations, surrounded by the awful weather which seemed ever present outside the walls of the ancient castle. Aemond had been introduced to Lady Y/N’s stepdaughters soon after his arrival, and each one, in her own way, seemed determined to gain his favour.

This was very much to Aemond’s annoyance, and very very much to your own entertainment. You held no great love for your stepdaughters, Floris was the only one you tolerated really. All four of them had been rather uncourteous to you when you, young as you were, not much older than the oldest of them, had first married their father so quickly after their mother’s death. You hadn’t been able to voice how unfair it was for them to lay the blame for that on your feet when it was your father who had practically forced you into the union with Borros. After their father’s death the girls were pretty much on your mercy, and you had decided to be generous enough to keep them under your protection – they were your son’s family after all, even if utterly tiresome. You supposed the responsibility to get them respectable marriages also befell on you, when you thought of Aemond’s offer.

Upon hearing the news of the arrival of a prince they had leapt at the chance to be introduced to him, which you had obliged. That ought to keep him occupied in the meantime, you’d thought with a smirk.

Cassandra, the eldest, had made the first move. She had practically thrown herself into the role of hostess, her wide-eyed enthusiasm grating on Aemond almost immediately.

“Oh, Prince Aemond!” Cassandra exclaimed the moment they were introduced, clasping her hands together as though she were greeting a long-lost friend. “What a joy it is to finally meet you!”

Aemond inclined his head stiffly, already sensing where the conversation would go. She wasted no time in becoming over-familiar with the man who seemed to do nothing but ice her out. Cassandra was pretty enough, but her excitement bordered on ridiculous.

“Tell me,” she continued, undeterred by his silence, “is it true that your dragon is the largest in the world? What a marvelous thing to behold! My father always hated those things but I assure you, I don’t share his aversions one bit—”

Aemond barely managed to suppress an eye roll. Cassandra’s chatter washed over him like the ever-present rain outside—relentless, loud, and entirely uninteresting. His mind wandered as she continued to babble about the wonders of dragonriding, and before he knew it, his gaze had drifted across the room to where you stood, speaking with one of your bannermen.

Unlike your daughters, you were calm, composed, your every movement deliberate. You had a way of carrying yourself that commanded attention without demanding it. There was no loudness, no need for theatrics. You simply were.

“Prince Aemond?” Cassandra’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing she had asked him a question he hadn’t heard. He looked down at at her out of the corner of his eye, her eyes were wide with anticipation, waiting for a response.

He forced himself to focus. “The sight of Vhagar is stunning, yes, though I doubt she would be as charmed by your enthusiasm as you imagine.” There were few who could stand before his great dragon and not buckle at the knees, he did not think the eldest of the Baratheon girls was one of those rare few.

Cassandra giggled, utterly oblivious to his lack of interest. “Oh, I would never presume to charm a dragon! I’m sure it takes someone with great strength and skill to command such a creature.”

Aemond only nodded, eager to end the conversation. His thoughts were already drifting back to you, who had now turned and caught him watching. You smiled faintly, a knowing glint in your eyes, before turning back to your conversation. He felt a flicker of frustration. You were too aware of his distraction, and it seemed you enjoyed keeping him off balance.

His encounters with Maris, the second eldest, were no better. Maris was clever, and her need to prove it often left him feeling as though he were being interrogated.

“Prince Aemond,” Maris began one evening during dinner, her eyes gleaming with a curiosity that made Aemond immediately wary. “I’ve always been fascinated by Valyrian history. The legacy of Old Valyria, the blood of dragons… surely, someone like you must know its intricacies better than most.”

It was one of Aemond’s favourite topic of study, and thus, initially he was intrigued by her interest in it. “yes, I have read the histories diligently. What parts hold your particular interest?”

“Oh the doom, of course.” And there she lost the prideful dragon-prince, for he was as attached to the legacy of his family’s old homeland as one could be, at the mention of its downfall his face turned to an immediate grimace.

Which was apparently a hilarious scene.

A stifled laugh from the other end of the table made him lift his eye off the younger girl to you, who were hiding your mouth behind the white napkin.

His gaze had drifted to you many times that night already. You had sat at the head of the table, right across from him. Your demeanour blasé, unbothered by the efforts of your stepdaughters to capture his attention. Every now and then, your eyes would meet his, and there would be that faint glimmer of amusement in your gaze, as though the entire charade was a source of quiet entertainment for you. And now, you had dared to openly laugh.

It irked him, the way you seemed to understand his thoughts without him ever voicing them.

Maris pressed on, oblivious to his distraction. “I’ve read that Valyria’s fall was as much due to internal strife as external forces. The dragons, the magic—such power, yet they crumbled from within. Do you think that fate could ever repeat itself here, in Westeros? Could our dragons fail us the way theirs did?”

That question got on his nerves and Aemond’s patience frayed. His thoughts were still tangled with you, and the incessant questioning only worsened his mood. He glanced at Maris, his tone sharp. “You ask too many questions than are appropriate, I think, of a noblewoman, Lady Maris.”

Maris blinked, caught off guard by the sudden coldness in his voice. For a moment, her confidence faltered, and she offered a sheepish smile. “Apologies, my prince. I suppose I can be a bit… overzealous.”

Aemond said nothing, his gaze flicking back to you, now sipping wine with an expression unreadable, though the faintest trace of a smile lingered at the corners of your lips. You raised your goblet slightly in a mock toast, eyes sparkling with levity as if you knew how little interest he had in your stepdaughters.

You both became the last two to depart from the dining hall that night, and walked back to your chambers in stride with each other. The corridors of Storm’s End were quiet, save for the soft rustling of your gown and the faint echo of footsteps. With a sly glance, you broke the silence.

“You were rather harsh with poor Maris tonight,” you said, your voice carrying a playful lilt. “I think you might have left her heart in pieces. All that talk of Valyrian history and you simply dismissed her with a single, icy look. Quite the cruel prince, aren’t you?”

Aemond cast a sideways glance at you, “I have little patience for those who speak without thought.” he stiffly replied.

You let out a soft, playful laugh, eyes twinkling with mischief, completely unbothered by his frigid demeanour “Yes, I noticed. But tell me, Your Grace, do you always deal with such cruelty, or was Maris simply the unlucky target of your wrath?”

Aemond slowed his pace, his gaze narrowing slightly as he looked down at you. “I am not cruel by nature, Lady Y/N. But I value directness. Your stepdaughters prefer to dance around what they truly want.” His voice lowered, carrying a hint of something more, something that suggested this conversation was no longer about Maris. “I prefer a more… forthright approach.”

You arched an eyebrow, your smile deepening, though your eyes remained sharp. “Forthrightness is an admirable trait,” you mused, the tone almost purring. “But sometimes a little patience goes a long way, don’t you think? Not everything worth having is so easily won.”

Aemond stepped closer, closing the gap between you as you walked. His gaze was intense, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that what this is, then? A game of patience?” His eye flickered over your face, searching for some crack in your composure, some indication that he was getting through the walls you so carefully kept in place.

It would be so easy, you found yourself thinking, for something to occur between the two of you in this very hallway, without no one being the wiser. You couldn’t deny, the temptation was there for you. What you could not predict was how similar line of thinking was running through the prince’s head as well, how painfully easy it would be for him to press you against the stone wall and take you then and there. He wasn’t sure you’d even resist.

He forced himself to steer clear of those thoughts when he next spoke, “I wonder, Y/N, how long you intend to keep me waiting.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him fully, gaze unwavering. The flirtatious spark in your eyes faded, replaced by the calculation of powers you had to keep track of every moment as the regent of the Stormlands. “What exactly are you waiting for, Prince Aemond?” you asked, your low voice carrying all the weight of a challenge.

Aemond’s eye darked, the tension between you both thickening. He leaned in, his voice low and smooth. “An answer, perhaps. To the alliance. You know why I am here, and yet you continue to delay. You say patience is a virtue, but I wonder how much longer we’ll pretend this is a game.”

Your lips twitched into a smile, though there was no warmth in it. “It’s late, my prince,” you replied after a beat, stepping back ever so slightly, putting just enough distance between you both to break the moment. “Surely, even a man as determined as you must know when the hour is too late for such discussions.”

Aemond hummed lowly in frustration, sensing the shift. You were pulling away, retreating just as he thought he had gained some ground. His voice remained steady, but there was a hard edge to it now. “The hour is late, but the war waits for no one, My Lady.”

You sighed at his tenaciousness but did not reply, turning around towards your chamber “Good night, Prince Aemond. Do try to get some rest. You’ll need it—” You turned to have one final look at him as you closed your doors, “—I believe Cassandra is planning on accompanying you to our library here in the morrow.” You smirked, as you shut the door on him.

Aemond stood still, his fists clenched at his sides. He had come close, but once again, you had slipped through his grasp, leaving him with nothing but the lingering tension and the maddening sense that you were still in control of this dangerous game.

Ellyn, the third-born, was, if anything, the easiest to deal with—if only because she was utterly uninspiring. She made no effort to engage him in conversation, content to let her sisters fight over his attention while she sat in silence, staring into her food.

“It rains often here,” Ellyn said one afternoon, as they both stood by the windows watching the storm outside. “You get used to it.”

Aemond glanced at her, waiting for more, but that was all she said. No follow-up, no elaboration, just a dull observation about the weather. He resisted the urge to sigh. This, too, was a waste of time.

He found himself watching you again, speaking with one of the castle’s servants in the courtyard. Even in these small, everyday moments, you commanded attention. It was infuriating how easily you pulled his focus away from everything else. He was here for an alliance, not to be distracted by a woman who was clearly dangling him like a child’s toy. What infuriated him even further was, he didn’t think you’d meant for this to occur at all. He was falling into a trap all of his own making, tormented by his own desires. Your simple presence doused those flames. Who needed enemies when his own lust was doing the work.

As he caught you stretching your neck, clearly tensed and in pain after having to run around and manage the affairs of the household as well as the work that should have been your lord husband’s, he could not stop himself from wanting to reach out and ease that burden for you. He wanted to ease all your burdens truth be told…

He closed his eye and took in a deep breath to steady himself. No, you were not the one he was here to court, at least not beyond courting an alliance.

Floris, the youngest, at least didn’t waste his time. She barely spoke at all, her fear of him palpable. Every time he caught her looking at him, she would quickly avert her gaze, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. At dinners, she sat in near silence, her eyes fixed on her plate, only daring to glance up at him when she thought no one was looking.

Floris was undeniably beautiful, he noted one night at dinner—delicate features, soft dark hair, and a quiet grace that set her apart from her more eager sisters. She had a certain fragility, the kind that made her seem as though she might shatter under the weight of his gaze alone.

As he had expected, the moment their eyes met, alarm crossed her expressions. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she quickly averted her eyes, her hands fidgeting, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Aemond allowed a moment of silence before speaking, his voice low and steady. “Lady Floris, you’ve barely spoken all evening.” Floris was startled, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes flickered up to him for the briefest moment before falling back to her lap. “I... I didn’t wish to intrude, my prince,” she stammered.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do I frighten you, Lady Floris?” Her eyes darted to him again, wide and filled with anxiety, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Aemond leaned back, feeling more indifferent than curious now.

Floris was beautiful, yes, but her beauty was fleeting to him. It lacked depth. His mind wandered, almost involuntarily, to you. How could he think of Floris when her stepmother sat just across the table, quietly capturing his eye without ever saying so much as a word?

You were something else entirely—your beauty had a sharpness to it, a confidence, a power that Floris sorely lacked. You knew your worth and how to wield it, and it was the graceful way you held yourself that lingered in his thoughts far longer than Floris’s timid presence ever could.

You took no note of him this time, too engrossed in conversing with your bannermen Ser Byron. Aemond couldn’t explain why the sight of you leaning towards him and talking in whispers with the man set the hair on the back of his neck on fire. That closeness with another man was not appropriate of an unmarried woman, he bitterly opined.

He was glad when Ser Byron had to abruptly leave after a servant delivered him a letter in the middle of dinner. But the hurried steps the knight took also arose his suspicions about the letters contents. “Has something happened?” he had asked you as he watched Swann leave, you simply dismissed it as some trivial dispute among your staff that needed mediating. He said nothing but did not think to take your word as it was.

Like a moth to a flame he sought you out once more as you walked back to your chambers. Sensing he was following you with quiet, almost hidden footsteps you abruptly spoke up “You seem troubled, my prince,” smiling at him as you stopped in your tracks and turned around towards him, “Are my stepdaughters proving too much for you to handle?”

“They are persistent,” Aemond replied, his tone carefully neutral. That earned him the first real, open laugh he had heard out of you. “Yes I suppose that is one way to put it. Are you still as adamant on marriage with one of them after meeting them or have we finally deterred you?”

The prince stuck out his chin most stubbornly, “I still intend to secure the alliance if that is what you ask.” That caused your smile to falter as you shook your head and turned towards your chambers, “of course you do.” Here you were delighted at one light moment with the dark prince, but Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not steadfast.

“Your persistence could almost give theirs’ competition.” You teased before leaving.

Aemond’s patience was bound to eventually run its course. For days, he had watched you receive messages, carried in by suspicious birds, and each time you’d dismissed his inquiries with vague answers and a smile that only fuelled his frustration. After receiving a letter from his grandsire demanding to know his progress, he realised he had very little to show for his time here and decided he had been played with quite enough. Tonight, he had no intention of being so easily brushed aside.

He strode through the corridors, his jaw clenched, his boots striking hard against the stone floor. Without hesitation, he pushed open the heavy door to your chambers. Inside, you sat on an ornate desk, your husband’s, a letter in hand, with your gaze flicking up to meet his slowly. You didn’t flinch, didn’t move. You merely raised an eyebrow, as though his intrusion was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

“Prince Aemond,” you greeted scornfully, not attempting to hide your displeasure at his unannounced entry, “You enter, insolently, without permission. I hope you have an urgent excuse behind such an incursion on my privacy?”

“Enough of your games, Lady Y/N,” Aemond snapped, his voice dangerous as he advanced toward you. “I’ve seen the ravens, the messages you’ve been receiving. Do not insult me by pretending I do not know who they are from.” He spat out.

You remained still, your expression unreadable as you took your time to set the letter aside. "And who, pray, do you imagine my correspondents to be?” you refused to match his tone, carefully keeping yourself in check.

“The bitch mother of bastards – Rhaenyra” Aemond hissed her name like it was a curse. “You’ve been stringing me along, all this while sending your little birds to her. I won’t be made a fool, not by you.”

Your eyes flashed at the accusation, but your voice remained steady, cutting. “Foolishness is something one brings upon oneself, Your Grace. If you feel such, do not lay the blame at my feet.”

The prince’s temper flared, and he walked forward in a swift stride, his presence filling the room with barely contained fury. He pressed his fingertips on your dark oak desk, to imposingly lean forward towards where you sat. If the feeling of looking up at a furious dragonlord pressing down upon you made you scared at all, you didn’t show it. “Do not make the mistake to think I am unaware of your little schemes. Keeping me here, playing coy while you weigh your options. But I warn you, Y/N—”

You took a breath, your chin lifting as you met his gaze head-on, interrupting his little speech “You warn me?” Your voice dropped, deadly calm, as you slowly rose from where you sat to match his stature. “And what will you do, Aemond? Bring your dragon down upon me? Burn Storm’s End to ash because I don’t bend to your will?”

Aemond’s lips twisted into a cold smile, his voice softening into something more dangerous. “You think I won’t?” This was not a man who would let insults go unanswered.

You were the storm’s daughter too though, not one to back down at the first sight of strong winds. “Burn it down if you wish, but it will not win you the Stormlands. It will not win you this war.”

You stood only inches apart now, close enough for you to feel him breathing down on you. Aemond’s eye narrowed, his anger palpable as he spoke, each word laced with cruel intent. “It would be nothing more than rubble if I wished it, and you, Lady Baratheon, would be nothing more than a forgotten name in the ashes.”

Your eyes blazed with fury, never leaving his as you sidestepped the table to stand next to him. “You think threats will bend me? That I am some weak-willed lady who’d cower before your dragon’s mere breath?” Your voice was sharp, holding back a tidal wave of anger. “I am no stranger to men like you, men who believe they can brandish fear like a sword.” After all, Borros had tried to break you and failed, you had prevailed over him. Your son was your victory. Now your husband laid six leagues under the ground while you sat on his seat. If Aemond Targaryen thought he could break you, he would be proven wrong too. “Know this—Storm’s End will stand long after you and your beast are dust. Dragon fire or not.”

They were too close, the air around them crackling with the force of their anger. For a moment, neither spoke, their eyes locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to give an inch. The heat between them had shifted, it had become something trecherous, as Aemond’s gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes.

Without warning, the tension snapped.

Aemond moved first, his hand gripping your arm as he pulled you to him, his mouth crashing down onto yours with a force born of fury as much as lust. You responded in kind, your fingers grabbing onto his leather coat as you kissed him back with equal fervour, both of yours’ anger feeding the fire that had long been building between you.

Aemond’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers almost clawing at your soft skin. Your hand instinctively bawled itself around the leather beneath it, pressing your body impossibly close to his.

It was not a kiss of tenderness, but of conquest, a desire ignited by the very battle that raged between you —fierce and unrelenting. Neither of you attempted to be gentle, perhaps being rough and demanding was just in both yours’ natures.

Aemond only broke the kiss to knock down the various trinkets that had been occupying the late Lord Baratheon’s desk, to then lift you with ease and make you sit atop it. You felt guilty at destroying your late husband’s things so callously as you caught sight of the now broken, spilled ink bottle on the floor, when the thought of how Borros had never even bothered to learn how to read to actually make use of the thing, made it disappear. Besides the dragon prince did not leave you much time to have thoughts anyway. His mouth was soon upon yours once again, as he parted your legs to make space for himself between them.

When his cold hand suddenly slipped underneath your heavy black dress, you couldn’t suppress a gasp at the feeling, which he used to slip his tongue inside you, deepening the kiss. The feeling of his hand trailing up your thigh made the hair on the back of your arms stand. Your hand found its way to the prince’s perfectly kept up hair, entangling themselves in his silver locks in knots, as if you wanted to ruin it, ruin him. When you tugged at his tresses sharply, you caused him to growl into the kiss, a sound which made you deliciously crave for him.

It seemed you had called forth some beast in that act though, for Aemond abandoned your lips entirely and the hand on your thigh moved towards your core, starting to remove your small clothes. In your own impatience, you helped him guide the cloth down till it was off of you, your hand then moving to undo his breeches with hurried fingers.

You gasped at the feeling of having his length in your hand, it had been a long time since you’d felt anything similar, having been widowed many moons ago. You spat in your hand to use it as moisture before you pulled on his manhood firmly, feeling your cunt become warm and wet at the very feeling of having him in your palm. Aemond’s breathing had become more ragged, responding to your actions. His hand found your neck, pressing itself around the frail little thing till you saw stars and the movement of your hand became sloppy, but you never once told him to stop. Your head titled back as if transported off Storm’s End to a world altogether new in pleasure. When his hand finally released you, you coughed back to reality, and your hand stilled.

His hands moved to your shoulder as he pulled himself to your ear to breathe down, “I don’t remember telling you you could stop, Lady Baratheon.” His words left you on edge and you swallowed, quickly nodding as you continued to move your hands over his now hardened length. He gave you a twisted smile, as his hand faintly pulled your hair stands away from your face, “You look more suited to play this obedient servant of the crown than that feeble attempt at playing the lord of the castle you have been doing, my lady.”

Even if your brain could have managed to come up with some biting remark for him, the sudden invasion of two of the prince’s spindly fingers inside your pussy cut those thoughts out. “Seven hells” you cussed out at the feeling. Aemond hummed approvingly at your response. His free hand found itself pulling on the gown as it draped over your shoulders, tearing the cloth with a screech so it would expose to him your bare shoulder.

His lips moved over the uncovered, soft skin of yours with gentleness which contradicted the brutal pace at which his hand moved against the walls inside you. It seemed he wanted to torture you with his pace, tease you just as much as punish you for how you had been holding out on him since he had arrived. Aemond Targaryen demanded nothing if not complete control, and you had taken that from him the moment you had met him. Such a treasonous act demanded retribution.

You felt a sharp pain when his lips against your skin were replaced by his teeth, biting hard enough to leave the place blue for the next day, but not content with letting you adjust to just that, he also placed another finger inside you in that moment, overwhelming you with sensations.

“Aemond—” you gasped, only to have him command you, “you do not yet have the leave to call me by name. if you’re forgetting your manners, we can cease this now” “no!” the negation tumbled out of your mouth embarrassingly fast, the feeling of his fingers moving inside you having caused all your previous haughtiness and resolve to disappear. “Your Grace—” You corrected yourself, “—I think… I think I’m” before you could get the word close out of your mouth, you found yourself suddenly empty, his fingers removed.

You didn’t know if you had it in you to beg him to fuck you, but thank the gods you didn’t have to go that far. For it only took a moment for Aemond to replace his hand with his cock, filling you in one go till tears formed in your eyes. He mercilessly filled you till there was nothing left but the tight of feeling your walls squeezing around him. “When was the last time you were properly fucked, hm? Did fat old Borros Baratheon even fill this cunt half way?” He taunted you, but you could merely moan in reply, your mind clouded.

He emptied you and let manhood hit you to the tilt once more in a swift action, knocking the wind out of you, your mouth hanging open in a silent gasp. Aemond did not prepare you for his pace by starting slow, but instead pulled out and pulled back inside of you with the full force of his length till your fingers grabbed the edge of the desk beneath you for some kind of support. His hips moved at a brutal pace, his hands holding onto your legs to keep you in place, to keep you open for him. You hadn’t been fucked in so long, to be filled like this repeatedly was too much for you. You shook your head and tried to keep a hand on his chest, “slower, please… your grace…” your breathed, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“shhh” in an act of uncharacteristic tenderness, Aemond pulled you to himself till your chin rested on his shoulder, his hips never ceasing their assault. “not yet.” You whined at his denial, tears starting to run down your cheeks, but you did not reject him. He continued to touch your sensitive spot with each thrust, and you simply took it, almost helpless in your obedience.

“How docile, how sweet…” he cooed. He liked this, for the first time since Vhagar had landed in these lands he had felt a sense of control. It wound him up more than anything else, to have you in his hands, for the first time his plaything, rather than the other way around. The way he could elicit your face to distort in pleasure, cause you to give up that stature of authority and move as he commanded, made him harder than he thought possible.

The way your breathing had become more rapid and your walls were closing in around him, he knew you couldn’t this take much longer, and so he finally allowed, “Let yourself come on your prince’s cock, Y/N” You curled your toes at the pleasure surmounting, your mouth unable to stifle a cry as you came around his cock. Your cum streamed down your thighs, ruining the dress you wore in the process.

The act had left you too tired to even sit up, you collapsed till your back hit the wood of the desk as Aemond continued to chase his high inside you. You could only whimper at the feeling, till you felt his cock twitch and unburden itself inside you, your mind too numb to protest.

As Aemond pulled out of you, you closed your eyes attempting to even out your breathing and calm your heart. Your mouth had gone dry and an ache had formed between your legs from the vigour of the prince’s pace.

The sound of the prince’s leaving steps sounded across the room till the door he had brazenly pushed open earlier, shut close shut behind him. Once you were alone you finally opened your eyes and sat up on the table.

As you walked over to the washbasin your servants had placed in the corner, to splash water to cool down the fire the prince had ignited within you, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Dishevelled hair, torn clothes and flushed cheeks. This wasn’t how you’d expected your negotiations to leave you.

Aemond was up at the crack of dawn, despite the little sleep he had received the night before, his body too set in its routine to allow him to sleep in. He’d remained distracted all morning though, from his usual training to breakfast, his mind still buzzed from the night before— with you.

His thoughts lingered on the memory of your body pressed against his, the taste of your lips still vivid in his mind. Truth be told such thoughts had barely allowed him to sleep, he had to do everything in his power to restrain himself from marching down to your chambers to have you once again. Come morning, it seemed his feet had made up their own mind as they carried him to the grand hall where you broke fast every morning, determined to speak to you. But speak to you about joining the war, or joining him, he wasn’t sure as he took strong steps towards those stone gates, until a shaky, scared servant reluctantly blocked his way with bowed head.

“Prince Aemond,” the servant began cautiously, “Lady Baratheon is indisposed this morning.” That gave him pause. Now that he looked around, there seemed to be more activity around the castle, it was certainly peopled with more men than usual. There was something different in the air, you were up to something. The servant carried on stammering “She-she re-regrets that she is unable to see you, but she extends the c-c-courtesy of allowing you to escort one-one of her stepdaughters for the day….should you wish.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened at the message, his eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn’t the refusal that stung—he had known you would be up plotting, woman of action as you are —but the implication that he should entertain one of your stepdaughters instead. His mind briefly flickered to Floris, Cassandra, Maris, and Ellyn—each dull and uninspiring in their own ways. None of them possessed your sharpness, your strength. His patience for their company had worn thin days ago, and now, after the night he had shared with you, the thought of spending an entire day with one of them felt intolerable.

“Which of the ladies would you prefer to accompany today, m-m-my prince?” the servant asked, still refusing to meet his eye. Aemond barely suppressed a sneer. “None,” he stared at the closed gate ahead of him. He wondered what you were doing behind those doors, wondered if you were mulling over his proposal or planning how to betray him to his half-sister. He wanted to know how you were thinking of this situation, how your mind would tick at the facts before it. He wanted you. He placed one hand on the stone gate, feeling the cool surface beneath his palm. You were so close to him, almost within his reach.

Yet, he thought as with decisive steps he turned around and started to walk away, so far.

He spent the day inspecting the grounds, trying to gauge the situation. He understood soon you’d called your bannermen to counsel you, but which way they would sway you remained unknown.

He mulled over the previous night in his mind often, no matter how much he tried to deny how he felt with you, he had to admit you had awoken something in him. You were unlike any woman he had seen – someone bold, someone who challenged him. You had surrendered in the end, but not without making him work for it. It had been a hollow victory, one that left him dissatisfied and wanting for more.

As the day wore on Aemond found himself restless. The usual routine of the castle felt stifling, and your absence only deepened his bitterness. By nightfall, his frustration had grown, it was perceptible in the way he stared into the fire, sitting in his chambers, waiting for news.

A soft knock at the door of his eerily quiet chambers alerted him. Aemond straightened, his brow furrowing as he rose to open it. Beating him to it, to his surprise, you opened it without invitation, dressed in nothing but a white, silk nightgown. The firelight flickered behind him, casting a warm glow across your features.

Your lips curved into a faint smile, “I hope I’m not disturbing you, my prince,” you teased. Aemond’s gaze lingered on you in a suspicious manner, his expression unreadable. “You rarely come without purpose, my Lady. What is it tonight?”

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you as you moved further into his chambers. “After much consultation with my bannermen,” you began, your voice steady with a note of finality, “I have made my decision.”

He was intrigued as he matched your steps to meet you half way across his chambers, agitated to hear this “And what have you decided?”

“Storm’s End will declare for King Aegon.”

Aemond’s chest tightened, his thoughts racing as he processed your announcement. He had done it, finally done it. He had brought you to his brother’s side, fulfilled the promise he had made to his mother and grandsire. He had proven himself worthy. He would not be the son who shirked duty like his brother, no, he would be considered the one who stepped up when his family needed him most. His chest swelled in self-pride at the thought.

But there was something more to it of course, he thought as he saw how your eyes followed his every move, as if attempting to pierce through him and grasp his soul. He had to be in your debt for this, he knew that. He wasn’t sure how well he could have done at his task had you made up his mind against him. “The crown will not forget your loyalty” his leather boots took the final steps to close the gap between you both, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you to his chest. He stared down at you as he added in a whispered voice “…and I’m certain it will find a way to express its immense gratitude.”

You words were raspy as you answered staring up at him, captivated. “Consider it a reward for your… persistence.” He hummed in response, bending just a little so his lips were at level with yours, never touching but hovering like phantoms.

Your own lips curved upwards as you began to comment with a hint of amusement “My stepdaughters will be waiting with bated breath, eager to hear which one of them you’ll choose as your bride.”

Aemond’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, he turned his head so his nose grazed your neck as he took in your scent, his breath tickling your skin. “Any suggestions to make my choice easier? You do know them better than anyone.” He muttered against you, before pressing his lips to your ear lightly.

You tilted your head thoughtfully, allowing him access to your neck, trailing kisses down it. “Cassandra is the eldest,” you began dryly. “But she’s air-headed, always prattling on about nonsense. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sensible word out of that one.”

Aemond chuckled softly, as he considered your words. “And the others?” he baited you to go on, his hands starting to lift your sheer nightgown to allow his fingertips to graze your thighs.

“Maris is clever,” you continued, your breathing hitched at his actions though there was a flicker of exasperation in your voice as you added “Too clever, sometimes. That girl never learned the art of silence. Always chattering, always thinking she knows better.” You sighed, your expression shifting to mild disdain. “Ellyn is dull. Always whining about something—nothing ever pleases her.”

Aemond arched a brow, smirking, finding your frankness far more entertaining than the thought of any of these girls. “And Floris?”

You laughed softly, a melodic sound that carried a trace of mockery. “Floris is beautiful, yes. But she’s already scared half to death by the mere sight of you.” Your eyes flicked to his face, and before he could react, you lifted your hand and reached toward his eyepatch, smitten. “I wonder why that is...”

Your fingers brushed the edge of the leather patch, but before you could go any further, Aemond’s hand shot up, gripping your wrist firmly. He pulled your hand away, his gaze dark and intense as he leaned closer. “And you, my lady?” he asked, his voice low, a dangerous edge to it. “Are you no longer scared?”

Your lips parted slightly, and your heart raced as you stared up at him, unflinching. A slow, wicked smile spread across your face. “You could not scare me if you tried,” you murmured, goading him.

In a flash Aemond had pulled you to him by grabbing your wrists. He wrapped his long, slender fingers around those dainty things, and pulled them behind himself, till you crashed into his lips.

With your body held captive like this you felt as if this was the prince taking his war prize in advance of the actual battle. His lips left no room for you, gave you no quarter. You weren’t protesting much about the abduction though. The prince may conduct himself as an aloof noble, a dragonrider who was above mere mortals in public, but when alone like this, you’d realised he showed a hunger of a poor man, a man denied, who was searching for his redemption.

He only released your hands to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his thin torso for dear life as he swiftly carried you to the bed, your lips refusing to leave his even as your arms hung around his shoulders for anchor. It was only when he threw your back to the mattress that he broke the kiss. You realised the prince was already hurrying with untying the strings which held his breeches, an impatience within him.

He used his knee to pry open your legs, making room for himself between them as he took his cock out in his hands and helped himself, looking down on the site of you sprawled all out for him, in just a sheer nightgown. Hair all over the place, legs open and ready to receive him. He mused with the hint of a smirk, how the mighty, commanding lady Baratheon had been reduced to this state.

You could feel his gaze upon you as if dragonfire itself, but you refused to turn away. You looked into his face, the expression of fervour in his eyes. He had you under him, in every way possible, and you knew he was relishing in that feeling. He had his army, and he had the woman.

You, on the other hand, were far more discreet in your sense of achievement. After the day of discussions you had had, the terms you and your bannermen had drawn up, you knew that the crown would not get the Stag for cheap. But you were happy to let them enjoy in this victory before you presented your full terms, after all a content prince was probably easier to haggle with than an irked dragonrider.

Yet still, the thought popped in your head as the prince leaned forward to enter you, pressing you beneath his weight, you didn’t have to give up all your sense of control. Your legs hooked around him, and your palms pushed at his shoulders to flip you both.

“You are our guest under this roof. Allow me, my prince.” Your voice sounded more as if you were taking charge, than acting the welcoming host. Last night he had been the one to make you feel helpless, and as much as you had enjoyed the feeling, you weren’t one to take what came at you lying down either.

You were the one looking down at him now, his silver hair covering the white sheets till the colours melted under the moonlight, his expression remained distrustful, still reluctant to allow himself to be beneath you, give you the reins this once. You didn’t want to allow him to dwell on that feeling and change your positions. You wasted no time in lifting yourself up and gathering your nightgown till it pooled around your stomach, taking his length in your hand and positing it with your cunt.

If the prince was going to protest, those words left him as soon as your warmth sunk down on him. He grunted as his head titled back in pleasure, your eyes unable to leave the sight of him as you yourself bit down on your lower lip at the feeling of the initial insertion.

“Sīr ȳrda” so tight, he let out through gritted teeth as his hands found your hips, though you were unable to understand his ancient tongue you took it as encouragement. You placed your palms on his chest for support as you rolled yourself on his cock, feeling him hit your spot with every move. You hadn’t been this bold with your late husband, who would visit you every second day to pump himself in you with a few thrusts and leave once he was satisfied. You would have never had the liberty to take him on like this, riding atop him, chasing your pleasure impaling yourself on such a cock.

You kept your movements slow, with little experience in such a position you didn’t think you could take faster snaps before becoming overcome. The prince had already displayed his aversion for patience though.

His hands moved to snake themselves around your waist fully as he sat up, “allow me, my lady” he almost mockingly threw your words back at you, with an almost sadistic half-smile. He lifted you slightly before thrusting himself upwards at you, quicker each time. You drew in a sharp breath at the feeling of becoming filled so fast, again and again and again. You refused to give him the satisfaction of telling him to slow down this time though, simply bracing yourself to take him.

Still subconsciously looking for some semblance of control, your fingers found his hair. you couldn’t help yourself from clutching at his long locks, jerking his face to jut out his chin. He grunted lowly in response, his hand coming down on your buttocks suddenly with a loud smack as punishment. You whimpered at the sensation; in pleasure or pain, you weren’t sure. Your eyes wandered to the pale skin of his neck, how it glistened with sweat under the moon. You pressed a kiss to it, tender, trailing up to his lips as you felt your thighs becoming feeble with his every movement. You moaned as you kissed him fully, your tongue slipping inside his mouth.

You felt his fingertips slip under your nightgown and trail up and down your back almost affectionately, but his cock hit your walls so mercilessly you could feel a throbbing ache. He was a storm of contradictions, Prince Aemond. Just when you thought you could understand him, he would turn everything upside down.

He gave you agony and satisfaction in such an equal measure, your body had become mush, acting only on his unsaid whims. He broke the kiss to gaze upon your serene face, twisted from the bombardment of sensations. “Do you swear–” he thrusted into you, “—fealty–” another thrust, “–to your prince?”

You were so close now, you could feel it, your nails were digging themselves in his skin, breaking it. You couldn’t answer him in your haze, which caused him to slap your bare buttocks once more, “yes” you immediately replied with a gasp.

“My prince I’m close… Aemond…” Aemond’s hand reached to hold your face in his hand as you could feel that wave of pleasure about to crash, “come undone for me, y/n” he whispered in your ear, which broke the dam for you.

You chanted his name as you came, feeling him reach his peak in your walls soon after. Somewhere far in your mind you had the thought to obtain some moontea the next day, seeing as you had allowed the Targaryen inside you twice now, but in that moment, you pushed such things aside. You sat together, you stradling his lap, him still inside you, his face pressed to the crook of your neck as he panted lightly with exertion. Your hand reached to brush the hair falling down his back as you sat there, with only the moon to witness your moment of solace.

He finally broke the silence with a hum, pulling you both down to place you next to him in bed, not bothering to pull out of you. “Stay.” His words had the force of an order, but his eyes pleaded a request. You smiled at the fondness he couldn’t bring his tongue to convey but that his expression betrayed. “As you wish.” You felt no hurry to leave his side either, you realised.

The soft light of dawn filtered into the room, casting a pale glow across the stone walls. Aemond stirred, the warmth of the bed a stark contrast to the chill in the air. His hand stretched out to find you missing from his side. He looked around the room, and didn’t allow his face to disclose the relief he felt when he saw you were still with him. You stood in your nightgown, staring out the window in silent contemplation.

Aemond sat up, as you turned to face him, realising that your expression was at ease, but there was a trace of calculation behind your eyes, as though the events of the night before were already giving way to something more pragmatic.

“We need to work out the details of the treaty,” you stated as a morning greeting, stepping away from the window and crossing the room toward him. “Before the official declaration of Storm’s End for King Aegon, we must solidify the alliance, the exact conditions.” Gone was the sultry Lady Baratheon of the night. In the morning it would be the reigning lady of the house who was meeting him. “And you need to decide which of my stepdaughters it will be.” You matter-of-factly added.

Aemond studied you for a moment. There was no playfulness in your tone now, no teasing—only the cold reality of the marriage alliance that had brought him to your doorstep in the first place.

You were no longer the naïve girl who had held hopes of falling in love with your husband when you had first married. Borros had made sure of disabusing you of that notion. All that stood in place of that girl now was a hardened woman, one who knew fiction from reality. And a prince falling for her was certainly the former. You would get what you needed, security for your son, and Aemond would achieve his objective and marry one of your husband’s pliant girls. You held no grudge against him, you were just interested in moving along with what needed to be done.

He did not share your straightforward view though, because as he considered your words, something else occurred to him, something that made his lips twitch into a faint smirk.

“It occurs to me now,” he began, almost thoughtful, “that my specific instructions were to secure House Baratheon through a marriage alliance. It was never specified that it must be one of Borros’ daughters that I marry.”

Surprise overtook you so fast your face couldn’t hide it under its usual, crafted mask. You watched him in silence for a moment, your brow arching ever so slightly. Did he jest? Or did he mean what you believed he did?

“And what exactly are you suggesting, my prince?” you did not want to bring your hopes up, you had trained yourself not to, yet your measured voice carried an unmistakable edge. A glimmer of hope.

Aemond rose from the bed, his gaze never leaving you. He’d met all four of your daughters and not one of them held his interest for a moment. You though, were intelligent and knew how to hold yourself against him. You wouldn’t be a pretty liability he would have on his arm, but an intelligent counsellor to be at his side through the upcoming war. He recognised the value that would have. In addition to that, even he couldn’t deny the attraction he had for you, how your magnetism pulled him in. He couldn’t resist you if he tried.

So then why try? A voice in his head had dared. Why try, when marrying you would secure the Baratheon’s just as much as marrying any of those silly girls would.

He walked to you, his smirk deepening as he spoke. “I’m suggesting that there may be a more suitable match within House Baratheon than your stepdaughters.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, attempting to suppress a full grin. “An intriguing offer. I would love to see Otto Hightower’s expression when he’s apprised of that.” From what you knew of the Hand, he wasn’t a man who took to surprises warmly. “Leave my grandsire to me.” He assured you as he stretched to place his hands on your arms as a pledge. “All you need to worry about is preparing for your arrival at King’s landing.” He would tell Otto Hightower what he knew to be the truth: having you by his side would bring all of them closer to victory, than the alternative.

A slow smile broke across your face, you stood on your toes to press a quick kiss to him. “As my Prince commands.” You finally answered, your words on their face were an open attempt at fawning at him, but he could sense the oblique pride and challenge that hid behind them. You hadn’t even known how you’d managed it, but even as he stood as the one who had achieved all his aims, you felt like the victor in this arrangement.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #fics i wrote

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galariangengar · 1 year ago

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In a kinda bad funk today cuz the first part of driving with my dad this morning made me anxious and shit cuz I was confused on which post office I had to go to to drop off a package, then my dad was making me confused too and making me unsure of where to go when driving to the correct post office. Also my allergies keep acting up and fucking with me regardless if I take allergy medicine or not, and they make me feel even more shitty

#hhhhh yea… I’m not doing too well mentally today 🙃#I’ll just be in bed crying for a bit & distracting myself with social media and playing splatoon 3 #also wanna keep working on drawing my welcome home x k-12 au #I sketched human Julie last night and I’m happy with how she looks #jazz uses curse! 💜

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ahundredtimesover · 11 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker

Series Taglist: @xhazmania @ash07128 @rinkud @junniesoleilkth @junecat18 @peachytokki @baechugff @coralmusicblaze @jalexad

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #boss jungkook #boss au #workmates au

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ldysmfrst · 5 months ago

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Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.

This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early

Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.

Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting

Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.

Chapter 3 - Following Instincts

Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.

Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space

Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.

Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)

Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.

Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You

Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.

Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke

After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?

Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.

Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)

It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.

Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction

After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 1

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 2

Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.

Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.

Chapter 13 - Shall we?

It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?

Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.

WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜

Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content and have early release benefits for each chapter!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reader Asks

Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?

How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?

Additional Content

Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family

Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)

American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)

American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)

Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 |

63 |

64 |

65 |

66 |

67 |

68 |

69 |

BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

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syncrovoid-presents · 1 year ago

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DISCOVERIES OF THE NEW WELCOME HOME UPDATE (SPOILERS?)

NOTE: this is a first cursory glance without getting into things! Also, every video mentioned has a transcript below the video (ctrl+a) to highlight it.

First off the first page! If you zoom out on the left and right there are two eyes watching you @:)

WELCOME

The red drawn house is clickable and leads you to a welcoming audio (clownillustrations.com/i)

There is an out of place letter Y in the Serendipitous Salutations.

In Wally's character description if you click on his canvas itll bring you to a page with another audio file. This one is more direct, and silly! (Clownillustrations.com/will)

NEIGHBOURHOOD

The so-below has a spiral that when clicked brings you to a glitching audio file. The record acts weird and the audio is a series of squeaks and clicks. Most likely Morse code (from Home )!! (Clownillustrations.com/neighbor)

The so-below graphic has been updated to a black void with a white eye and spiral (image below)

If you click the beetle on the bottom right you get another hidden page. This one is a video and a message (looks to be a transcript). It is from Poppy with Frank talking about her recipe. It's pretty sweet haha. Glitches out at the end with Wally @:) (I think there is a freeze frame? The video cannot be replayed nor paused) (Clownillustration.com/9-14-fp)

There is another bug with Eddie that brings you to a video between Eddie and Frank. Glitches out when Wally is mentioned. (Clownillustration.com/8-14-ef)

There is an out of place X letter.

Fun thing! If you select all on the page home doesnt get blued-out.

The O is out of place

ABOUT US

The blue drawn heart is clickable. It brings you to another audio file. Wally is being so silly @:) (clownillustration.com/a)

Overlapped text: "When I unwrapped the first letter, I felt it. I heard it. Open. Open. Open. I want it out. I'm going to get it out."

The wally darling is my favourite line js new I think? Wally is being mentioned more overall.

In the bottom right another bug will appear that leads you to another hidden page. This is a video where Sally and Julie are talking, and "Williford" Wally is mentioned at the end (clownillustration.com/10-14-js)

The yellow drawn star is another link to audio. This one is very helpful @:) (clownillustration.com/i-2)

STICKERS

Top right there is a spider that brings you to a video where Julie and Barnaby are chatting. Glitches out again at the end when Wally is mentioned. (There is an mention during the conversation that he's there, I think that's different than the rest?) (clownillustration.com/11-14-jb)

Theres a few letters that look odd in the first part (in order of appearance): K P I (first one could be C, second could be S, third could be T. Might be in pairs of CK, SP, TI)

I managed to get a small blue orb thing in the top left but clicking did nothing. It is gone and couldn't be selected so that might have been just a my-laptop glitch. Weird though!

None of the stickers or banners are clickable (havent checked names)

There is a Caterpillar on the top right with another video. This one is between Howdy and Barnaby. Also glitches when Wally is mentioned. (Clownillustration.com/12-14-hb)

NEWS

E is out of place

The guestbook has officially been closed! Unless you submitted something a while back you cannot submit anything anymore. Understandable but unfortunate. There is a message to the guest book writers after the most recent update. Please respect boundaries @:)

There is a beetle on the top right that leads to another video between Edie and Howdy. Howdy calls Edie Ed and Julie Jewels @:P. Also glitches when Wally is mentioned (clownillustration.com/13-14-he)

GUESTBOOK

The drawn hello is clickable and leads to another audio. Theres some connectivity issues @:P (clownillustration.com/find)

I am too eepy to go through the rest of the guestbook but there is lots of new messages and images!

There is a little bug hiding in the top right that has another video link. This is a talk between Poppy and Sally. Wally is about @:) (clownillustration.com/2-14-sp)

EXHIBITION

Specifies that Welcome Home started airing on October 11th 1969 until sometime in 1974 (4 to 5 years).

I didnt go through to test the brightness and read the text for all of the images of the gallery. There are multiples with text!

The house drawing on the bottom left is clickable and leads to more audio. It's very friendly @:) (clownillustration.com/understand)

There is a bug on the left halfway down with another video. This is a talk between Howdy and Poppy. Wally is about @:) Glitches when Wally is mentioned (clownillustration.com/1-14-ph)

MEDIA

Theres a lot more on this page that I will go through later!

MERCHANDISE

You need to wait for the butterfly to appear at the Currently Unknown Records subtitle. Leads to another video where Frank and Julie were talking back and forth. It's very Silly @:P. Glitches when Wally is mentioned. (Clownillustration.com/6-14-jf)

OTHER

When trying different possible codes I managed to get a drawn stars on the error page that leads to another audio! This one I did not expect. It shows up after waiting a few moments, either appearing or being drawn in a 2 star or 5 star formation. (Clownillustration.com/soon)

The hidden Wally audios lead to a possible hidden message: "I WILL (HELP?)(FIND?) YOU NEIGHBOR (A?) (I?) (WILL?) UNDERSTAND (YOU) SOON". My guess is "I will help find you neighbour. I will understand soon". But that doesnt explain where "A" and "WAY" would go. It could also read "I will find a way to help you neighbor" (although "to" is not one of our words).

There is another hidden audio you get from clicking the drawn heart of YOU (clownillustration.com/you-1)

YXWVOE still works. Transcript has been added.

WOXYVE now had a cockroach that leads to another video where Barnaby and Home have a conversation. This takes place after his conversation with Julie and Howdy as he mentions both. It glitches out once Wally is mentioned. (Clownillustration.com/14-14-bh)

YWXOEV has a drawing of a phone after a few moments. Another audio with the transcript. Wally is being so Silly @:p (clownillustration.com/way)

VOYWEX works the same. I waited for a while and there were no added text or drawings.

EOVWXY works the same. Fhe webpage is also called answer, just like Wally's hidden audio files. Sounds like Wally is trying to communicate through the static at times?

That's all I found tonight without going through all the new images! It is 2am here, but it's so fun being able to dive into the new update!

By typing in different words you can get audio from HELP and PHONE (seems different than old phone call audio. More has been added, voice has been updated).

THOUGHTS

Also I have a guess that with all the videos the first numbers might put them into a chronological order? If true there may be up to 14 hidden audios as the last one (Barnaby and House) is 14-14 (14 our of 14). Might not work or mean anything if there are duplicate numbers (or they are happening at the same time).

If they can be placed in order, perhaps a new message or secrets can be found with the two letters they all end with! This I will test tomorrow.

Also the eyes appear on all pages out on the left and eight, most likely belonging to Wally as he makes multiple inferences towards eyeballs and him being related (I can see you, I see out of the eyes on my you've drawn, here is how you drawn eyes, etc.)

There has also been a lot of stuff relating to bugs, which Frank directly mentions is his expertise. Frank also is in multiple videos, which seems like there may or may not be a connection. I forget now, but it should be checked if Frank ever asks Wally's opinion since that is when videos glitch and end. If he does not, then that may be a sign that Frank knows more than they're letting on.

Good Bye for now!

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home website update #thoughts and clues #this was such fun!!#so much to think about #i am rotating the new update in my head like a steam powered rotisserie chicken #tomorrow i shall compile more clues and test more!!

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itstheghostofmypast · 5 months ago

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Winter of Woe

Idol Park Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: Winter had always left him cold and bitter, sprint had always been his season, yet, when it became too much, his spring had decided to walk back into his life, on that cold, dark winter night

Genre: Angst/ Comfort (kinda open-ended?)

Warnings: None

Ratings: SFW

Word Count: 2.5K

Est.Read Time: 12 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Winter was never one of his favourite seasons, yet, it was one of the seasons that would help him numb out anything that dared to bother him. The nights would fall too early, and the sky would never be a shade of pastel so pretty, but a blanket of grey loomed over them, over him. The nights would be long, would be cold and eerily silent, quiet enough for the unspoken words of his to resurface, wrapping around his torso, slowly squeezing the life out of him- but the nights would be chilly, freezing and cold, enough to paralyse the words, mute them out by the chattering of his teeth, pricking his bones that were covered in flesh and supposedly warm wool.

The nights were welcoming enough to give him the solitude he needed after a tiring day, a tiring session of socialising, of smiling, pretending everything was as it was supposed to be, as it should have been- or so he had begun to tell himself more often than he would like to admit. Perhaps this started as soon as their break was announced, where all had chosen to retreat to their little dens, their homes, cosy and warm, yet, he had decided to stay behind, wanting to remain in isolation, away from his loved ones. Perhaps it was an act of redemption, of punishing himself, of constantly reminding himself of his past regrets, his mistakes, his anger, his repressed hatred towards himself, his-

"Hwa?"

The faint voice of an angel rang through his ears like church bells, it had been a while since he had the honour of hearing the voice of his- no, not his, she was no longer his angel, he had made sure of that, perhaps that is why he felt so bitter towards this season, he had left her cold and shivering with the chill.

"Hey..." his whisper morphing into a puff, floating between the two as he stared down at her, drinking in her appearance, eyes roaming her face like a map learnt by heart, taking in her essence, her being.

"How have you been?" She smiled, pulling down her mask and moving a cup of coffee closer to him, "Here."

"I'm better..." he sighed, only to pause and stare at the coffee, eyes flickering back up to her, somewhat disturbed about how she was easily pretending as if nothing had happened, though he was conflicted, maybe this was better than her bringing up the past, but was she following him? Or perhaps this coffee was-

"Better is good, Hwa... oh the coffee- I got stood up.... shouldn’t have bought the coffee while waiting for him." She cleared her throat, before averting her gaze, arm still extended as she offered him the second cup. Honestly, she was already down in the dumps, rejections were never easy, break ups were even worse -she'd know- but being stood up was like you failed to pass a test, so unworthy that no one could even spare a glance at you, so if he were to reject the coffee right now, she probably would break down right in front of him.

"Thanks..."

The brush of his cold fingertips sent a shiver down her spine, her eyes flickering up to meet his, staring up at him with some form of admiration, one that he did not believe he deserved- after all those years, he was still the same, the same coward who was too afraid to love her, the same hideous being who was unworthy of her, the same man who she had devoted all her love to, yet he had decided to let go of her hand when the times got a bit too rough.

"You've grown prettier." She sighed, a gentle smile gracing her features as she walked beside him, the crunch of the snow beneath their boots constantly reminding him to take the next step beside her. Her words hung between them, perhaps a dead weight, perhaps the deceased memories of them together- maybe she shouldn't have called him out. Maybe he wanted to spend time alone, maybe he didn't want to see her again, maybe-

"You should make him pay you back..."

"Huh?" Turning to face him, cup in lap she blinked at his side profile, taking in his beauty, his grace, his masculine charm, as he sat there staring at the coffee in his hands, gripping onto it for his dear life. "What...do you mean?"

"You should...make him pay you back..." Taking another gulp of the warm beverage he sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the bench, wondering why she even bothered to call him out, especially when he was the one to pull away first.

“It's fine…not the first time I’ve been ghosted.”

His eyes shot open at that statement finally turning to meet her tender gaze, one that held no ounce of anger or resentment, but one with a swirling curiosity, and a twinge of woe, but it was enough for him to break eye contact, choosing not to continue, for any moment longer and his resolve may shatter-

“Why…did you do it?”

Her words were gentle, but the impact was worse than being stabbed, the way her hand rested on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I just…I just want to know…if I did something to upset you…you just disappeared.” She had moved a bit closer to him, it had been so long since she had even heard from him, sure, she had heard and seen the content of their group, but him, no- not in person, not like this. She was unsure of what had happened, what had she done for him to slip out of her life like that, for him to show up at her door in the middle of a winter night, much like this one, with swollen eyes and a stuttering tongue, uttering the three words she had never wished to hear, “Let’s break up.”

Truth be told, she had spent the whole night wondering about the possibilities that could have led to this unfortunate scenario, even asked Hongjoong if it was a decision made by the company, to which he had refused, saddened by the news, but he had told her this was a decision his friend had taken on his own. She had tried calling him a few times but he had texted her to not do so anymore, and if there was one thing she had learnt about her lover, it was that he was always very clear with what he wanted, and when he wanted- perhaps, he no longer wanted her?

She would’ve believed that, truly, but something at the back of her mind kept bothering her, perhaps she no longer wanted him back, but felt that she had the right to know what had led a long-term relationship to end poorly- closure, that is what she wanted, that is why she had called him out after years of seeing him, calling him out before she could even think of what to say next, calling him out after another date where she was stood up, calling him out before he could walk away again. This was probably why she sat here, basking in his presence, pleading with him to at least give her a simple liner that she could take as an explanation, “I…I just need to know…what it was, I promise…I’ll leave after…Hwa.”

“How could I love someone, when I couldn’t even love myself.”

The world around them had come to a standstill, silent as the calm sea, cold as the ice, as heavy as the heart of a widow, the two stared at each other; confused, conflicted, angry, upset and…in love. For the first time now, he had looked at her properly, had given her a proper reaction, and shown her the bits that he’d often hide, the bits that made him human, the bits that made him, her Hwa. From the way his bottom lip quivered to the way his eyes teared up at her, face contorting as if he were in pain- he was- and for some melancholic, sadistic reason, it made her frail heart flutter, her heart giggling in joy to see him like this, not in spite, no, never, but in the aspiration of there being traces of love with the empty confines of his heart, hidden in the cracks, asleep in patience and sorrow, waiting for the time it could spill out again.

“Hwa…” her words were soft, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of it buzzing against her cold palm, thumb caressing the skin, smearing the wet trail left behind by his tears, sighing as she moved closer, enough for them to be sharing body warm, her thigh pressing against his, coffee long forgotten as she cupped his face with both hands, tilting his face to admire him, “Why didn’t you say so…do you think I wouldn’t have given you space?”

“It’s…not about space.” He hissed, gently gripping her wrists to remove her hands from his face- what was he still fighting? At this point, he wasn’t sure, but he knew, he knew for a fact, that he was not going to let her forgive him so easily. As if he had not just tossed her aside when his own insecurities began to nip a bit too close to home when he knew that even though his own mind was against his being, the person he had given his heart to would carefully hold it in her palm, all warm and snug until he was ready to be let out to the world- no, he did not deserve this, he did not deserve her, “I…did not deserve you, your love…your admiration and sincerity, especially when I was unable to truly reciprocate it with the sincerity that yours held.”

She let him remove her hands, watching him closely, nodding to his words, words that once again hinted about how their ends perhaps may be split by fate, yet, she noticed how his grip on her had tightened, not wanting to let her go, ready to fight fate- maybe this was what he lacked the last time, the will to fight, perhaps because he had given up on himself as well, a dilemma so strong that her presence was merely a representation of the sun, and he, Icarus, knew that his wings could not take him up to her- but what if this time, she came to him? All she asked for in return was to be acknowledged, to be treated not like the holy sun, but the silent listener, the moon, the watcher, the companion on lonesome nights, ever so silent, ever so loyal, ever so loving.

“Do you still feel the same way-” she whispered, only for him to cut her off, letting go of her to furiously rub away any proof of his sorrows and regret, oh how it broke her to see him like this, so confused and in shambles.

“Of course! I don’t deserve you-”

“About yourself, Hwa…do you think you now love yourself enough to share that love with someone else, enough to let someone else love you?” gripping his wrists she pulled his hands away from his face, giving him a squeeze, enough to have him gulping at her, her gentle face, her determined eyes, her confident aura, having his throat parch up at the realization, one that he had buried in the crevices of his heart, burying it with everything he could find, every distraction, every wish, every whim- everything that could never measure up to her, the need of having her in life, the want of her near him. No one had asked him that before, no one had wondered if he now loved himself enough, thought of himself to be important enough to be even considered human, to be considered worthy enough of having his own choices, his own opinions, his own story- no one had asked him if he was his heart had begun to beat for himself, to not only keep him functioning but to keep him alive.

“I…think so…I hope so.” He whispered, unsure of where this was going, honestly, this was too much to take in one go anyway, with her popping up out of the blue, coming to him on a night so long, a night so cold, a night so much like the one on which he had left her broken and confused. He watched her smile at him, staring up at her when she stood up, only he had remained rooted in place, blinking ever so slowly at her, as his guardian angel knelt closer to his sitting form, pressing her warm lips against his cheek, before whispering something to him.

Slowly pulling away she gave him one last smile, caressing his buzzing, warm, soft cheek with her knuckles, making sure to leave him craving for more, wanting more, as he watched her walk away into the night. Watching her walk away into the cold of the night, with her, was her warmth and love, resonating from her being, melting any and everything around her into spring, much like the spring he had confessed to her in, the spring when he was a wee lad on the with one foot into the doorstep of stardom and another in her world, pulling her across with a loving, yet firm grip, making she stood strong on the same ground as he did- only, for him to lose his footing, in the process of which he had unknowingly let go of her hand, letting her slip through his fingers. And when she had reached down to pull him up from the pits of his own defeat and sorrows, he had pulled back, turning away to let it all envelope him in its numbing hold, rather than embracing her warmth and love- perhaps he was afraid her love may melt away the numbness, sprouting out everything that he lay within the frozen layer of his masculinity, or what he once assumed was the definition of masculinity. He watched her till she was out of sight, but not out of mind, she was far in being, but close and well seated within his heart- a new profound emotion coursing through his veins, with fireworks booming within his system as his whole being lit on fire, fingers gripping the paper cup with as tight as he wanted to hold her close to him, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt his mind run on overdrive, constantly repeating her words in his head, leaning back against the bench as he closed his eyes, smiling at the possibility that awaited, not the boy that was too afraid of his own demons to look past them to the angel that stood across, but the man who was ready to push past his demons to finally let his angel save him.

“Then…when you do…and if you do, find it in within you, to love me again, and you feel safe enough to let me…love you, I need you to know I’ll be waiting for you.”

A/N: I cant do angst with a sad endings. Im sorry

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

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awmancreeper · 1 year ago

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♡︎Lonely Boy Will Stay Lonely?

Synopsis:

❣︎StayC’s Y/n is notorious for being K-pop’s social butterfly and making friends comes rather easy for her. When she’s asked to be an MC for Inkigayo, one of her co-hosts doesn’t seem too pleased to be working with her. This unknown feeling sparks a drive to become the bestest of friends with him but from the looks of it, he’ll fight her the whole way there.

PAIRING: Idol!Huening Kai X Idol!Fem.Reader

Fic Type: Social Media AU + Written Parts

Genre: Idol AU, Fluff, Comedy, SLOW BURN!!, Mutual!Pinning!, One-sided “Enemies” to Lovers

⚠︎︎WARNINGS: Swearing, Suggestive Jokes, K-Industry, Slight age gap, The following jokes with be seen: unaliving, abandonment, virginity, cheating, mental health (this series is not to be taken seriously, it’s just a goofy story) , terribly edited photos lol

Face claim: Rei IVE

Featuring: rest of TXT, STAYC, Jisung (NCT), Hanni (Newjeans), Wonyoung (IVE), Bahiyyih (Kep1er), PopUps: NCT Dream, New Jeans, Enhypen, Le Sserafim

Started: May 2023

Ended: August 2023

Status: COMPLETED

Profiles

SlayC / Tube a Tube / 4 the Girlies

♡︎Chapters♡︎

1. Toilet Bowl Toothbrush

ఌ 1.5 Teddy Bear

2. Want Me FR

3. Where’s Yoon?

4. What the Duck!

5. Who Wants It?

6. For The Girlies

7. Back of the Line

8. DHMU💔

ఌ 8.5 Real Her

9. Please You

10. Buckled Knees

11. Weather Boy

12. Monkey Leash

13. Oh Ning

14. Keeps Me Up?

15. Microwaved Burrito

16. Crazy 8

17. Y/n’s Youngluv Era>>>

18. STAN Dreamcatcher

19. PP Gang

20. Welcome Home Cheater

21. DUMPY

22. Real Eyes, Realize, Real Lies

23. Sister-in-law

24. Dying to find out

25. In Love?

ఌ 25.5 Tsundere

26. Heyyyy

27. My Mistake

28. MC Live

29. Not My Type

30. Like Him?

31. Joking Around

ఌ 31.5 y/n-kinda-boy

32. Not Captiv-Bred

33. Lock Down

34. Not Very Convenient

35. Trending AGAIN?!

36. Our Butterfly

37. I’m Sorry

ఌ 37.5 Kai-ness

38. Sowwy🥺

39. Wait For Me

40. One and Only

EPILOGUE

Taglist:!!CLOSED!! @txtbrainrot @azinwo @mackjestic @mangobee @ggggghost @adajoemaya @kainkhemistry @suzirumas @amareoverall @owotalks @justemalove @kaisdefender @aloverga @myahwritesss @justiceya @loopycorn1123 @amara-mars @samvagejkflxhrt @iraa567 @liinori @reinahwanggg @bangchansbae @heyitssarah63 @txtmetonight @lilyidk03 @roseidol @heymickyy @sofia-rom @beoms-sugar @ndriixx @myknifeyourlife @jackass1123 @fanfangying1304 @jenofairy

#tomorrow x together #kpop #kpop smau #fem reader #txt smau #txt fluff #huening kai #hyuka x reader #huening kai x reader #idol smau #enemies to lovers

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fictionwifey · 4 months ago

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Konoha x Transmasc! Reader head cannons (pt. 1?)

Warnings: REALLY LONG, sasuke is kinda uh…a little shit, at first, but when is he not? queerphobia, ur deadname is Elizabeth? I dunno if it uses any pronouns, but if it does its prob he him, sorry nb besties

Note: queerphobes can gtfo of this blog im not cisgender, straight, or allosexual or alloromantic so uhh BYE SIS. Welcome beautiful queers and allies :)

Characters: Team 7: Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Kakashi (separately)

Naruto:

He actually gets it, like, immediately

If you tell him your preferred name and pronouns when you first meet him, he’ll use the right away, no problemo

If you tell him you’re trans later on, he’ll understand the concept pretty quickly, and he is happy and proud that you’re able to tell him

If he sees something remotely similar to the trans flag’s colors hes immediately pointing it out (same goes for any other flags of your queer identities)

“Look! It’s like the trans flag!” He says (a bit loudly according to your reddening cheeks and the customers’ stares) while pointing to a white shirt with blue outer stripes and pink inner stripes on it

“Yeah…let’s keep it down just a bit, kay, Naruto?” He nods and apologizes, later taking you to Ichiraku’s for ramen (you’re paying though—what’d you expect, for him to have money?)

If you tell him your preferred name and pronouns after you meet him and you’ve been friends, it’ll be a bit harder for him

You walk up to him one day, looking incredibly nervous for some reason before you grab his attention

“Hey, Naruto, uh…I’m trans…”

The way he freezes scares you at first before you realize it’s his look of confusion, not his look of judgement (they’re really not that different convince me otherwise)

You explain to him, and like I said before he grasps the concept immediately

Naruto accidentally deadnames you or uses the wrong pronouns now and then, and it wouldn’t be that much of a problem, except…

“Hey Elizabeth, is this the (men’s item) you wanted?” in the store

everyone turns around and you pull a ‘pretend-like-you-don’t-know-him’

“Hellooo? Eliz- er, Y/N, eheh..”

When you get home that’s the fourtj time you’ve had to discuss the ‘pretend-like-you-dont-know-him’

If someone deadnames or misgenders you, he’ll correct them

If they keep doing it even accidentally, he’ll have a polite, definitely non threatening conversation alone with them

If he finds out it’s intentional, well uh…

“What do you mean, ‘I’m the prime suspect’?? I didn’t even know they went missing- …being the last person to leave with them and returning without them doesn’t mean anything-!”

If you were feminine before coming out, whether a while ago or shortly before, he literally does not GAF

If you’re still kinda feminine (any ftm femboys here?) it increases his accidental deadnaming and stuff (but only if you came out later after meeting him)

Overall 12/10 🥺☺️

Sasuke:

This assho-

If you use your preferred name and pronouns when you first meet, of course he is annoying

“…why do you need to clarify your pronouns? You don’t look that much like a girl…if you squint…”

If you decide to explain you’re trans

“I’m…not sure that’s how it works…but you do you. …What’s your real n-“

He can’t finish before Kakashi loudly clears his throat, Naruto scolds him, and Sakura hits him in the back of the head. (Changing their scores they get extra for that)

If you decide to tell him you’re trans later, basically the same thing. Except maybe he’s a little less insensitive as he’s grown more attached.

If you completely start using your name and pronouns after meeting and knowing him, he’ll definitely be more sensitive about it. Still Sasuke tho, don’t push your luck.

He’ll accidentally deadname you every now and then, and sometimes you’re not even sure if he tries

He does really try to save you from embarrassment though, he’s only deadnamed or misgendered you in a male store for example once

If someone misgenders or deadnames you, he immediately gets on them coldly

If someone keeps doing it, he goes off

If he finds out it’s intentional, he’ll beat their ass then and there, in front of everyone, especially you

When you smile softly and say thanks, he cuts you off

“You’re all for equality right? If I get hit for accidentally doing that, they get killed for doing it purposefully.”

POV you rn: Um 🫢 damnn Sasukes actually kinda swee-

He’ll probably beat you up for even thinking that dont get too excited

He doesnt really care but not in a (very) mean way

if you were overly feminine before coming out, he’ll raise a brow and sometimes comment on how girly you were

If you’re still kinda feminine (any ftm femboys here?) he’d sometimes comment on it

You: 🎀💞🫧✨ Him: “Aren’t you a boy”

Before Sakura, Naruto, and Kakashi did their ✨thang✨ again

Overall 8.5/10 ig idk🫡

Sakura:

She’s a tinyyy bit disappointed she’s the only girl again, but then again, now no one can steal her spotlight (on Team Kakashi at least-)

She pretty much gets it, she’s heard of transgender people before, as she is a medical ninja, and Tsunade has met some (side note: Tsunade is a total auntie to the queer <33)

and now she’s even met one: you

She is VERY supportive and proud, but not as ‘OMG ITS SOMETHING TRANS’ as Naruto, you know?

She always uses the right pronouns and usually uses the right name, whether or not you came out/told her your name when you first met

she’s deadnamed you once after knowing your name is Y/N not Elizabeth or whatever your dead name may be

If someone misgenders or deadnames you, she immediately cuts them off and corrects them

If someone keeps doing it, she literally shouts the correction out of absolutely nowhere to cut them off

If she finds out it’s intentional, she literally interrupts them by SHRIEKING your name and pronouns Im serioud when I say she will SCREAM it from the ROOFTOPS she loves you

I dunno if its platonic love or not so dont get your hopes up but she definitely adores you

If you were feminine before coming out, whether a while ago or shortly before, Sakura doesn’t blink an eye at it. She knows realization like this can happen in a moments notice

She will take ALL the clothes, nail polish, makeup, etc that you no longer want (if you’d like of course heheh)

If youre still pretty fem she is BETTER THAN OKAY?? 🎀🫧✨🌸

Do you want her to paint your nails? Wait, you wear makeup? Can she do it today? Do you wanna borrow some of her clothes that smell like her so it seems- (Kakashi clears his throat interrupting Sakura and she realizes what she was about to say)

But yeah so imma say

Overall 100/10 obvi? 💞🥺

Kakashi:

He thinks it’s so cool that he’s actually getting to meet a trans person

They were just the butt of the jokes back in his day

Or the gossip whenever an actual trans person literally did nothing more than breathed

But yeah he’s like ‘that’s so cool’

He’s way more ecstatic and happy for you on the inside like in there he’s actually squealing

Kakashi reveals that he’s actually questioned his gender identity before, but it kinda got shoved out of his mind by his dad once (same with sexuality but he’s totally pansexual or something and he knows it—he doesnt care about gender he just likes people)

You guys discuss that stuff sometimes when he asks if its normal to question it, or his sexuality, or when he finally figures out the label for it is pan (or whatever) and then you guys just discuss your queer identities

One day he was just like “hey is it normal to wonder if I’m a boy? I know you’re a boy who was once a girl, or at least seen as one, but I…” and yeah

If you’re (around) his age, and he finds out you’re trans, he feels like he’s about to cry

Kakashi is SO HAPPY, he didn’t know trans people…would even be able to live as long as you…

He hugs you so tight bro you’re not getting out of that for a while

If you’re literally his age like ive said before and ur not a minor you may or may not be his pan/homosexual awakening…

You guys are so sweet as a couple just the absolute cutest

If you’re a kid he’s training Kakashi will make sure you’re extra well protected due to the sad fact that transphobia and just plain queerphobia is still everywhere even if it’s a small amount

Regardless of age again, he always uses the right name, as he says its easy cos Y/N suits you better and generally uses the right pronouns

He’s used the wrong pronouns just a few times

If someone misgenders or deadnames you, Kakashi patiently corrects them

If they keep doing it, he gets a bit annoyed but makes you a pronouns pin and/or name tag and reminds them each time, his reminder dripping with more venom each time

If he finds out it’s intentional, Kakashi literally will get them in trouble, the excuse being they were harassing and bullying you, even so much as saying they were threatening your existence (which isnt a complete lie)

He cares so much about you dare I say loves you so much, whether it be in a familial way if youre a kid or adult, or a romantic way if youre an adult

If you were feminine before coming out, he sometimes gets confused but usually does great actually with few mistakes

If youre still feminine he sometimes gets confused on accident but it doesnt take him long to get good

Overall 10/5 🤍🥹

I may make more with the other teams! Have a great one, byeee!!

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criticallyinneedofadar · 25 days ago

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Alliance of Shadows (12)

A/N: This is it babes... the final chapter. I do have an epilouge planned that is definitely... rated R for raunchy. For now though, enjoy!

Pairing: Adar x Reader

Warnings: None

Taglist: @annatartastic @oakenshielq @perse-cora @eowyn7023 @passionofthesith @zoya-olenko

Word Count: 3.2 K

Previous- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mountain range ahead loomed vast and ancient, its peaks dusted with snow even in the warmer months. The mages had long called this place home, hidden in their solitude, away from the world that often looked at them with distrust. Now, as you and Adar led the Uruks and your people toward the imposing peaks you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the journey ahead—not just the trek through rugged terrain, but the merging of two vastly different peoples.

“Ered Sûr,” you murmur to Adar beside you, “The Mountains of Silence.”

The Uruks, stoic as always, walk with purpose. Their dark eyes sweep the horizon, ever wary of danger. Though the threat of Sauron has been sealed away, they carry with them a wariness, as if expecting some new battle at any moment. Behind them, the mages move with quiet grace, their robes flowing in the wind. Though both groups had fought side by side, it is clear that old habits of distrust have not yet fully faded.

As the path begins to ascend, the Uruks raise their heads toward the jagged peaks of Ered Sûr. You catch the gleam in Adar’s eyes—his people have wandered for too long, and now they stand at the threshold of a potential home. The air grows colder as you climb higher, the rocky terrain testing everyone’s endurance, but there is no faltering, no doubt in the steps of either group. This is a necessary journey, and one that holds promise.

Finally, as night begins to fall, the peaks come into full view. The closest summit, which you had planned to offer to the Uruk’s, stood sentinel over the landscape.

“This is Karn Maug, or the "Red Peak,"" you say to Adar, as you steadily climb. “With any luck, the council will agree that it is perfect for your people.”

Adar takes in the landscape around him. He nods slowly, “I can see its appeal. Your land is beautiful.” Though you know he is only remarking on the land that will soon be his home, you cannot help the flush on your cheeks at his praise.

As you descend toward the valley where your council waits, your thoughts churn. Would they understand? Would they accept the Uruks?

The chamber where the council convenes is carved deep into the mountain’s heart. Torches flicker on the walls, casting dancing shadows as you and Adar enter. The council members sit in a half-circle, their faces impassive. Their robes, a shimmering deep blue, mark them as the wisest of your people.

While you regale the council of your journey and your proposition, Adar stands tall beside you, his presence commanding but not hostile. His Uruks wait outside, scattered along the valley as they observe their surroundings, no doubt suspicious of this new environment. The mages, too, watch with silent curiosity, knowing that this meeting would shape the future of their kingdoms.

One of the councilors, an older mage named Erys, leans forward, his piercing gaze fixed on you. “You ask much of us, Your Majesty. These Uruks, they are not our kind. They have lived in the shadows, they have spilled blood. Why should we welcome them into our lands?”

You straighten, allowing the weight of your title to settle in the room for a moment before you speak. “I understand your concerns, Erys. And while it is within my power to make this decision alone, I value your wisdom, your guidance. I have not led us into ruin, nor will I now. Your counsel matters, and I won’t act without hearing your voices.”

Erys frowns, but he gives a nod of acknowledgment. His respect for you remains, even in disagreement. You continue, your heart heavy but your voice firm. “The Uruks have been cast aside by the world, just as we once were. For too long, we’ve shut ourselves away from the world’s struggles, and though we have known peace, it is peace born of avoidance. Now we have an opportunity to do more, to offer a home to those who have been cast out.”

You pause, the words building up inside you like a storm that you could no longer contain. “And I owe them this.”

The room stills. The councilors’ eyes flicker in confusion, waiting for you to explain. You draw in a breath, the weight of your confession pressing down on your chest.

“When we fought Sauron,” you begin, your voice softer now, “I lost control of my magic. In my rage, I sought only to stop him. I didn’t think… I didn’t think about the consequences. In my desperation, I bound him to the volcano in Mordor. I cursed that land, the very place the Uruks had fought to reclaim as their home.”

The councilors exchange uncertain glances, but you press on. “I did this. I destroyed their home with my mistake. And now they have nowhere to go. I feel responsible for giving them a place—a true home. Not just because of my error, but because I’ve seen their strength, their loyalty. They deserve more than to be cast out again.”

The weight of your words hangs in the air. You can feel the tension in the room, the discomfort of the councilors as they absorb what you have admitted.

Another councilor, Mara, speaks up next, her voice carefully measured. “And what if they turn against us, Your Majesty? What if they use that strength to conquer rather than to coexist?”

You meet her gaze, your spine straightening with resolve. “We cannot live in fear of ‘what ifs,’” you say calmly but with conviction. “I am Queen, and if I doubted them, they would not have crossed our borders. But understand this: they have no desire for conquest. I have seen their pain, their yearning for a home. They wish to live, as we do, in peace.”

The council remains silent for a beat, but you can sense their hesitancy. It is then that Adar, who has remained quiet, steps forward. His voice, calm and steady, fills the chamber.

“I will swear fealty to you and your people, if that is what is required. I will pledge my life and the lives of my children to your kingdom’s protection.”

His words take you by surprise. You turn to him, shaking your head. “You owe us nothing, Adar. You and your people have already paid enough. You do not need to bend the knee.”

Adar meets your gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. “It is not about owing, but about peace. I will do what is necessary to ensure that our people can live without fear.”

The council murmurs among themselves, weighing the offer. Erys finally raises his hand for silence, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “Fealty may not be enough to ease the minds of our people. There is a way, though, to ensure unity between us... A marriage.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, the entire room seems to close in. You blink, flustered, your mind racing to comprehend the suggestion. “A marriage?”

Mara nods, her eyes observing your reaction carefully. “A marriage between the leaders of our people would serve to quell any doubts of rebellion or uprising. It would symbolize the merging of our kingdoms—both Uruk and mage united by blood and bond.”

You look at Adar, searching his face for some reaction. To your shock, he is smiling, albeit subtly. There is a glimmer of amusement, perhaps even approval, in his eyes. He glances at you, his voice low and filled with a private, secret satisfaction. “It seems… a practical solution.”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you stammer, “I—”

Adar speaks again, his tone now more serious. “We are willing to carve our home into the Red Peak. But if you allow us, we will not be a kingdom separate from yours. Over time, our peoples will come together. We will share the land, share the mountains, our resources. Let us build something lasting.”

Erys sits back, considering. “Very well. Should the Queen approve, the Uruks will begin carving their homes in Karn Maug. In return, their armies will be ours in times of need. And we will help them carve out the stone, with our magic and with our hands.”

Relief floods through you. “It will be done,” you say quietly.

As the meeting concluded, the future now set in motion, you linger beside Adar. His presence is reassuring, grounding you in this moment of monumental change.

“You’re… you’re not opposed to the council’s suggestion?” you ask, still flustered by the mention of marriage.

Adar’s dark eyes gleam as he regards you. “Opposed? No. I am not opposed to being bound to you, not in the least. In life or death, I would never wish to be parted from you.”

His words send a thrill through your chest, and for a moment, the weight of all that has passed seems distant, replaced only by the quiet certainty of his love.

As you and Adar make your way down from the council chamber, a familiar sight greets you—his children, gathered near the valley clearing where the Uruks have set up a temporary camp. Their rugged faces, scarred and hardened by years of battle and struggle, soften the moment they see Adar approach. A murmur runs through them, and soon, every eye is fixed on him, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

Adar pauses before them, casting a long glance over the gathering of his people, his family. He has always been a pillar of strength, but today, there is something different in his posture, something that makes the air hum with expectation.

Finally, he speaks, his deep voice carrying across the clearing. “My children,” he begins, and the murmurs quiet immediately. “We have traveled far. We have fought harder than anyone could have imagined. And today, I bring news of hope.”

The Uruks lean forward, listening intently. You stand by Adar’s side, watching as their eyes light with the faintest spark of hope—something that has been a rarity in their lives.

“The Red Peak will be our new home,” Adar continues, his voice steady and filled with quiet pride. “The mountains have welcomed us, and we shall carve out a kingdom here. No longer will we wander the shadows, cast aside by the world. This land will be ours.”

For a moment, there is silence, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, like the breaking of a dam, a cheer erupts from the Uruks. The roar of celebration is fierce, filled with the raw emotion of a people who have been denied a home for so long. The ground seems to tremble beneath the force of their joy, and you feel the warmth of it settle deep in your chest.

Adar’s children rush forward, some clapping him on the back, others raising their weapons in triumph. The sense of unity, of shared victory, is palpable. The Uruks, so often seen as brutal and cold, now stand together in a moment of pure celebration.

You step forward, raising your hand to quiet them, though your heart swells with the same sense of relief and hope. “For now, make camp in this valley,” you say, your voice carrying over the crowd. “But soon, we will begin building homes. Permanent homes. It will take time, but know this—you are safe. You are protected within these mountains. If there is anything you require, please find one of my people. We know the pain of rebuilding. We will provide what you need. Be welcome, children of Adar, and know peace.”

A second, louder cheer erupts, so fierce and full of life that it seems to echo through the peaks around you. The Uruks raise their fists in the air, their voices merging with the wind, a chorus of triumph and gratitude. Even the mages among them, initially cautious of this alliance, are swept up in the infectious energy, their faces softening as they join in the cheers.

Adar turns to you, his dark eyes filled with something akin to pride. You have both fought for this—together. And now, standing in the midst of your united peoples, you know that the road ahead, though still fraught with challenges, would be walked side by side.

As the night stretches on, the valley becomes a place of celebration. Fires are lit, food is shared, and laughter—a rare, beautiful sound—rings out among the Uruks and mages alike. It is the beginning of something new, something stronger than either people have ever known.

Adar leans in close, his voice just loud enough for you to hear amidst the celebrations. “They cheer for us now. But it is you who gave them this hope.”

You shake your head slightly, smiling. “It was you Adar, you have done well by your children.”

A single tear slides down his cheek. You gasp as he gives you a rare full smile. It changes his face, making him appear younger, lighter, and even more beautiful. You cannot help the smile that stretches across your lips in return.

—--

After the night’s celebration, you retreat to your chambers, longing for quiet, though the silence feels foreign after so many weeks spent among the chaotic, lively Uruks. The vast room, with its high ceilings and sweeping drapery, feels too large, too empty. Every footstep echoes in the stillness, and the luxury of the space suddenly feels overwhelming. You dismiss your handmaidens, assuring them that you need time for contemplation, though as soon as the door shuts, the weight of solitude presses down upon you.

You sit at your writing desk, staring at the blank page before you, but your mind refuses to settle. Without Adar’s steady presence, without the constant hum of voices around you, the quiet gnaws at your thoughts. Your heart aches with a strange, unfamiliar emptiness, one that pulls you toward the one person who has anchored you in this tumultuous time.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you rise and move to the door. You grasp the handle and pull the door open wide, and there stands Adar, his silhouette bathed in the soft light of the hallway.

“I was coming to see if there were any extra blankets,” he says, his voice low and familiar. “Some of the young ones—” he pauses, hesitating for just a moment before continuing, “they’re not used to the cold here.”

You blink in surprise, relief flooding through you at the sight of him. “Adar, you could have sent anyone,” you say, though there’s no edge to your words, only affection. “One of your people, or even one of my guards—they would’ve gladly provided whatever was needed.”

His lips curve into the faintest of smiles. “Perhaps,” he admits.

The simplicity of his confession sends a warmth through you, and without another word, you turn to the guard outside your door. “Fetch more blankets for the young ones,” you instruct gently. “Distribute them to those who need them.”

The guard nods, disappearing down the corridor. As soon as the guard vanishes, you turn back to Adar, your heart thudding a little faster now that you’re alone with him.

“Come inside,” you say, stepping back to let him enter.

He moves into the room, his dark eyes quietly taking in his surroundings. You walk ahead of him, showing him the front room where your writing desk and library reside, the shelves lined with scrolls and books of ancient knowledge. You pass by the door to your bathing chamber, the lingering scent of herbs and oils filling the air. Finally, you lead him to your bedroom.

You hesitate there, both of your gazes drawn to the large bed in the center of the room, its sheets pulled tight and pristine. The tension between you, already simmering beneath the surface, spikes. It occurs to you that this is the first time since your meeting that you are truly alone, no armies outside demanding your attention, no fights on the horizon, and no duties calling your names for the rest of the night. Your heart races, and for a moment, neither of you speaks, the air thick with unspoken words and unsaid desires.

Desperate to break the tension, you turn abruptly and lead him toward the balcony doors, pushing them open to reveal the vast terrace that overlooks the mountain range. The cool night air greets you both, carrying with it the scent of pine and stone. Above you, the stars stretch out like an endless sea of glittering lights, brilliant and bright against the dark sky.

Adar steps onto the balcony beside you, his gaze drawn upward. His breath catches, and you see something in his expression that you’ve never seen before—wonder, pure and unguarded.

“The stars,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You watch him closely, the way his eyes shine with awe, as if he’s seeing them for the first time.

“When I was very young,” he begins, his voice low and steady, “my mother used to hold me in her arms on nights like this. She would point up at the stars and tell me stories of the Valar—how they shaped the world and guided the fate of all who lived within it. She said that the stars were the light of the Valar’s love, watching over us, even in the darkest times.”

You listen intently, your heart swelling at the image of him as a small child, cradled by a mother who, despite the world’s harshness, still found a way to pass on stories of hope and wonder.

“She would say that the stars were our ancestors, shining down to remind us that we were never truly alone,” he continues, his voice softer now. “Even when everything seemed lost, there was always light to guide us—if only we had the strength to look up.”

He takes a deep breath, his expression both wistful and sorrowful. “As I grew older, those stories faded. My mother died when I was still very young. After that… the world became harsher, crueler. There was no time for stories, no time for the stars.”

His voice softens, a shadow passing over his face. “During my time with Sauron, I lost hope in them. I stopped looking up. I had no time for them while freeing my children.”

He falls silent for a long moment, his eyes still fixed on the sky. “Now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t remember the last time I saw them this clearly.”

His words hit you like a weight, and a lump rises in your throat. You take a step toward him, closing the distance between you. “Adar…” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Gently, you reach for him, pulling him into your arms. His body tenses for just a moment before he relaxes into the embrace, his forehead resting against yours. The silence between you is filled with the soft rustling of leaves in the wind, the distant murmur of the mountains.

“We will bask in their light together,” you promise, your voice steady. “And in the joy of your children. You are free now, Adar. We are free.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you press a soft kiss to his lips, the weight of everything you’ve both endured and survived pouring into the moment. He returns the kiss gently, his hands coming to rest on your waist, grounding you both in the here and now.

When you finally pull back, his gaze is locked on yours, filled with the same awe he had for the stars moments before. There is a quiet peace between you now, the tension gone, replaced with something deeper, something unshakable.

“Together,” he whispers, his voice a vow.

#the rings of power #adar #adar rings of power #adar x you #rings of power s2 #adar x reader #adar fanfic #adar series #fanfiction #alliance of shadows

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thechaoticscenejester · 9 months ago

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HAAOOOIIII!!! XD

W4ZZUP SP4RKL3D0GZZ!1!1!1! :3

U can call me Centipede/Gir/Lancer :D

They/it/he/she (They/It preferably) X3

Fandom List:

Stars next to my obsessions!!

• The Amazing digital circus

• Five nights at freddy's

• Undertale

•Deltarune ⭐

•UTY

• Murder Drones ⭐️⭐️⭐️

• Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

• (ROT)Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

• Popee The Performer

• Welcome Home

• Raggedy Ann and Andy

• Hilda

• DreamWorks trolls

• Invader Zim

• Ramshackle

• Johnny the Homicidal maniac

• Mean Girls

• The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

• K-12

• Diary of a wimpy kid

• Sweet Tooth (Netflix show)

• Inside out 1/2

• Cobra Kai

• Yaelokre ⭐⭐⭐

• Little Witch Academia

• FPE ⭐️⭐️⭐️

• Hamilton ⭐️

• Beetlejuice ⭐️

• Hunt For The Wilderpeople ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Master Posts:

(Fixed the links!1!1!!!! X3)

The Tadc dark au

The Amazing Digital High School

Tadc: Eternal Tragedy AU

Hazbin Hotel x Tadc

Jthm x iz au

Dead! Zim au

Remaking deltarune w/ocs

Father! Caine au

Hazbin Next Gen Au!!!!

Youtube:

Asks:

You can ask me anything and if I want to I'll respond. I don't wanna be rude, but it says ASK not tell. So, don't just tell me some random thing.

Boundaries:

Okay, let's get real here. I don't want to hear about your issues unless you're my friend or you ask first. I don't really like to read vents of random people because I'm no therapist. I can't even deal with my own shit.

You can cuss all you want. Just no slurs.

Please act ur fucking age (some exceptions tho)

DNI: Proshippers, racists, homophobic, under the age of 10, Children, u make NSFW, u make gacha heat, u don't act ur age, Satanists, Zoophiles, pedophiles, ur @/Randysworlds2009, or if I just don't like u :)

That's basically it. If u break any of these boundaries I'll block u<33

Anyways,

I'm a Abbie (FPE) kinnie I'm a bitch so be warned lolzz!!! XD I kin so many characters for my own good!!!! X3 I'm a therian and fiction-kin too!1!1!1!!!! :3

My MAIN THERIANTYPE IZ A WHITE DEER!!!!! ^_^

OTHERZ: Raccoon, Cat, Moth, Owl, Goat, and skunk!!!! XD

Hopez u likez my art!!!! >:D

#intro post #introduction #welcome to my world #welcome to my fucked up home #fandom list #masterpost #boundaries #Spotify

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galariangengar · 1 year ago

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I’m still so sleepy today, even after having 2 coffees. I had to wake up around 2:30 this morning so I can keep Frida (our family dog) company since my parents left to Texas early this morning. Then Frida initially woke up around 5:40c but I was able to put her back to bed for a little bit longer. But then she woke up again around 6:20 and I’ve been up ever since… I even went to my room to rest a bit when my brother got up, but I still couldn’t sleep a little…

#it’s just a couple days and my parents will be back really early Monday morning #I should take advantage of this time and work on a piece of my welcome home x k-12 au since I have ref pics now #jazz uses curse! 💜

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swans-chirping-in-the-distance · 1 year ago

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welcome to your new home :D

my cognate: @sparklenarniawizard <3

♤ Christian (non-denominational) ♤ call me bee or bug or swan ♤ she/ her ♤ infp-t ♤ azaleas, picrews, and sims ♤ no smut, y/n, or x readers ♤ I don't do chains (although I appreciate everything I've been tagged in/ asks I've been sent!!) but you're always free to tag me in stuff and send asks I love it sm ♤ I don't discriminate and everyone is welcome here. no judgment on beliefs or opinions even if I disagree ♤ title is from remember my name by mitski ♤ mainly kotlc, bbc merlin, and tdp (in that order probably) ♤ mainly listen to mitski, although I like indila and k/da and am getting into laufey, emei, melina kb, and chappell roan ♤ if you're seeing this btw ily <3 ♤ if you see something where I seem to be being rude just message me or send me a nice ask or smth I'll clear things up w/ u ♤

♧ sxf ♧ tpq (aru shah) ♧ the sisters grimm ♧ willow falls ♧ pjo/ hoo ♧

♧ asoue ♧ ouat (not s7)/ ouat in wonderland ♧ 12 monkeys ♧ teen wolf ♧ psych (2006) ♧ charmed (og) ♧ haven (syfy) ♧ pll ♧ stranger things ♧ pjo ♧

♧ final destination ♧ spiderverse ♧ the breakfast club ♧ sleepover ♧

tags (I rarely use most of these except for twilomiwb and tiwtr-vc):

kits4!- kotlc in the sims. I did this a while back but I'm starting over! gonna reread the series first

kap!au- kotlc in pjoverse and pjo in kotlcverse. may or may not write it out (probably not going to)

twilomiwb- writing things I'm proud of! so far there's an og poem, a merlin poem, and some kotlc stuff (one kotlc and pjo thing). no fics atm.

tiwtr-vc- random stuff I want to remember. check it out.

wings caress ink- my thoughts when rereading kotlc, including collections of quotes and such little details I noticed

tvnabs- new art tag for totally normal things :DD

#b/b/s- kotlc #b/b/s- og #b/b/s- writing #b/b/s- rbs #b/b/s- azaleas #b/b/s- tpq #b/b/s- general #b/b/s- paf #b/b/s- fav ogs #b/b/s- spiderverse

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yumiyue07 · 24 days ago

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Through Fire and Blood

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★ POV: K-idol x reader

H/N = His name Y/N = Your name

Trigger warning: none ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

H/N slept through the night, his steady breathing bringing you the calm and reassurance you so desperately needed. When morning came, you found yourself slumped in the chair beside him, fatigue finally catching up with you.

A gentle hand stroking your hair stirred you awake. You blinked a few times, immediately sitting up and glancing at H/N. Sunlight filtered through the dusty window, casting soft golden stripes across his face. He was awake, smiling at you with eyes filled with warmth, and your heart nearly burst with relief.

"Hello, my angel," he whispered, his voice still a little raspy.

"Good morning, my love," you replied, tears of relief shimmering in your eyes. "How do you feel? Did you sleep well?"

"Like a dream," he murmured, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that escaped down your cheek. "With you by my side, always." His gaze held yours, filled with a love so deep it made your chest tighten with emotion.

Unable to resist, you leaned forward and kissed him, the tender brush of your lips speaking of all the fear, love, and relief you'd felt. It was a kiss filled with quiet promises, the weight of the world lifted in that moment.

"I love you with all my heart," you whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he said softly, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. The kisses that followed were slow and filled with the kind of gentle affection that spoke of forever. Just as you felt entirely wrapped up in each other, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the spell.

H/N turned his head toward the doorway, scowling slightly as his playful demeanor returned. "Saint," he said, his tone dry but amused, "what impeccable timing."

Saint leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. "You’re welcome," he said wryly. "From the looks of it, you're back to your old self, H/N," Saint said, his voice tinged with mock sternness, though the smirk on his lips betrayed his amusement.

"Your vitals are stable, and the blood units have finished running through. In other words, pack your things, it's time to go home. But don’t push yourself too hard just yet." He raised an eyebrow at you both, clearly trying not to laugh. "I’ll give you two a moment. Just... don’t make me regret it."

You laughed softly, pressing one more kiss to H/N's forehead before pulling back. The warmth between you lingered, a quiet affirmation that everything was finally starting to heal.

H/N pouted dramatically, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of hurt feelings. "Is that any way to treat a patient? Or rather, a friend?" he asked, his expression so theatrically pitiful that you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

Saint rolled his eyes, though a fond smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're annoying, you know that?" he quipped. "I've patched you up, so you’ll heal faster at home—with Y/N keeping you in line." His gaze softened as he looked at you. "And try not to scare her half to death next time, alright?"

With a final pointed look and a sigh that only a long-suffering friend could muster, Saint turned and disappeared, leaving the two of you with a bit of privacy once more.

"He's right. I'm sorry," H/N mumbled, the playful mask slipping for just a moment, revealing the weight of everything he had carried.

"You don't need to apologize," you whispered, your voice trembling as emotion surged through you. "You saved my life. I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to see you again. When Cobra revealed his plan to kill you… I wished, in that moment, that you wouldn’t come to save me. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, especially not right in front of me."

Tears spilled down your cheeks, no longer held back, though you quickly tried to wipe them away. You didn’t want to worry H/N any more than he already had. But he saw them, and his heart broke a little at the sight.

"Don’t cry, my love," he said softly, pulling you closer with all the strength he could muster. "It’s over now. We’re both safe. I promise this will never happen again. I’ll keep you safe, always." He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering.

"When I realized you were missing," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, "my whole world crumbled. I felt so helpless, so empty. But I knew… I knew in my heart that you were alive, and that’s what kept me going. Nothing was going to stop me from finding you and bringing you back home, to me, in my arms."

He opened his arms wide, inviting you into the place that had always been your home.

"Are you sure?" you asked, concern etched into your voice. "I don’t want to hurt you."

But H/N simply nodded, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. Carefully, you climbed onto the bed and nestled into his arms, your favorite place in the world. His embrace was strong but gentle, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and for the first time in what felt like forever, both of you let out a deep, shared breath, finally relaxing in the warm presence of each other.

In that moment, everything was perfect. No fear, no danger, just the two of you—together.

H/N started to speak again but hesitated, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Say," he began, his tone unsteady as he caressed your cheek. "Did Cobra or any of his men... you know, hurt you?" His question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fear.

He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know if they had done more harm than you had shown.

You hesitated, torn between protecting him from the truth and your desire for openness. The memory of your time in captivity lingered, and you knew you couldn’t and didn’t want to hide anything from him. Taking a deep breath, you decided to tell him the truth.

"Two of Cobra’s men came into my room…" You saw H/N’s body stiffen immediately, tension coiling in his muscles. His hand, which had been gently caressing your cheek, suddenly froze. Fury flashed in his eyes, a dark, violent storm brewing just beneath the surface. You quickly added, "But Jun Ho—Python—he saved me. He stopped them before anything could happen."

H/N’s rage didn’t dissipate. His jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the muscles in his neck straining, but he remained silent, waiting for you to continue. His free hand gripped the sheets tightly, the effort to control himself evident.

"He even kept Cobra from... kissing me," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly at the memory of Cobra's cruel intent. "Jun Ho, he—he protected me. He avoided making a scene in front of Cobra, and later when I escaped, I fell into the woods… and he caught me. He kept me from getting hurt."

At the mention of Jun Ho, H/N’s fury mixed with a complicated gratitude. You could see the war of emotions in his eyes—rage at the thought of anyone touching you, but also the knowledge that Jun Ho had sacrificed himself for you.

"Jun Ho… he saved you more than once," his voice was low, strained, barely masking the anger simmering beneath. You nodded, your heart heavy at the thought of Jun Ho’s sacrifice.

"He did. He protected me when no one else could. He stood against Cobra for me, even though it cost him his life," you said softly, your voice breaking slightly at the memory.

H/N’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he was silent, his emotions warring inside him. The thought of anyone laying a hand on you filled him with rage, but the gratitude for Jun Ho’s bravery tempered his fury.

"He stopped them from… hurting you. I’ll never forget what Jun Ho did," he looked away for a moment, swallowing hard. "I should’ve been there sooner."

You touched his face, gently turning his gaze back to you. "You came for me. That’s all that matters. You saved me, H/N. You were there when I needed you the most."

His eyes softened, but the anger simmering inside him didn’t fade. "I’ll be forever grateful for what Jun Ho did," he said quietly, his hand tightening around yours. "But I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen to you. I’m truly sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," you whispered, leaning in to press your forehead against his. "I’m here with you, in your arms. I’m home. That’s all I ever needed."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "I swear to you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "no one will ever hurt you again. Never."

After a brief pause, H/N gently cupped your cheek, "You managed to escape? That’s my girl," he added with a proud smile.

You smiled weakly in return. "Yeah, I’ve watched too many action movies, I guess. I pretended I needed to go to the bathroom. The guard was new and didn’t seem very experienced, so I took the chance. Thanks to all the martial arts training you put me through, I was able to knock him out and get out of the building."

H/N looked at you, his smile slowly fading as he absorbed your words. "You really are something else," he murmured, a blend of pride and sorrow lacing his voice. "You outsmarted them, escaped, and even knocked someone out." H/N’s eyes glimmered with pride, but there was still an undercurrent of tension. "And then what happened?"

"Jun Ho found me and was about to bring me back. But I managed to escape him, too. I almost made it out, but I… tripped over a tree root. Jun Ho caught me before I got hurt too badly."

H/N burst out laughing despite the gravity of the situation. "You managed to escape one of Cobra’s top men, but a tree root got the best of you?" He shook his head, his laughter contagious. "I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be laughing, but you can be so clumsy sometimes, my little fighter."

You hit him lightly on the chest, your lips forming a playful pout. "Yah! It was dark, and I was terrified. Give me some credit here!"

"I’m sorry," he said, still laughing as he pulled you closer, his hand stroking your back tenderly. "You were amazing. I shouldn't be laughing. Really, though. What happened after that?"

"You better not," you said, unable to resist the grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You paused for a moment, letting the calm settle between you before continuing. You took a deep breath, your expression turning more serious.

"After I fell, Jun Ho—Python—protected me from the fall. He stopped me from escaping again and took me back to the room, preventing Cobra from realizing what had happened. He saved me again. If Cobra had known, he would’ve ensured I never saw daylight again. Jun Ho made sure I stayed safe. He wasn’t like the others."

H/N's face softened, his anger giving way to quiet understanding. "Sounds like he really did a lot for you."

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the emotion from overwhelming you. "I could tell he didn’t belong there. He had a good heart, even if he was stuck in the wrong place. I…I wanted to ask you to take him in, after everything he did for me. But…" Your voice broke, and you quickly pressed your lips together, fighting back tears as the memory of Jun Ho's lifeless body flashed in your mind, the overwhelming sadness gripping you again.

H/N’s hand moved in slow circles on your back, offering comfort in the silence that followed. His grip tightened around you, grounding you as you struggled to control your emotions.

"You don’t have to say it," H/N whispered. "I understand." He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, holding you close as the weight of the moment settled between you both.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, trying to keep your composure. "I’ll live a good life to honor his sacrifice. I’ll be forever grateful to him."

"He saved you, and for that, I owe him everything." His voice was soft but filled with a deep reverence. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with a quiet determination. "I swear, we’ll make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain."

"But you, you were amazing," you said, determined to lift the mood after the heavy conversation. "Cobra didn’t stand a chance in that fight. He only gained the upper hand with a cheap trick. You had him in your paw."

H/N chuckled at your words, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. "A paw, huh? I like that."

"And the way you got into the warehouse, how you stood there… so fierce, like a hero. My hero," you said softly, your heart swelling with love as you gave him a quick peck on the lips.

His face lit up with pride. "Did you just call me your hero?" he asked, a playful grin spreading across his face. "What kind of hero, though? Thor, with the hammer, or more like Iron Man?" He imitated Iron Man’s flying motion, his hands outstretched, pretending to shoot repulsor beams, making you giggle.

"Baboooo..." you rolled your eyes fondly. "Let’s go home before you start auditioning for the Avengers." You swatted his arm playfully as you stood up. "I’ll call M/N1 to pick us up."

"Wait, wait!" he protested with an exaggerated pout. "You didn’t answer my question. Thor or Iron Man? It's important!"

You smiled, shaking your head at his antics. The playful back-and-forth between you felt like a balm to the chaos you had you had just survived. "Neither," you teased. "You’re H/N, my hero—way cooler than both of them combined."

As you helped him get dressed and packed up the room, the warmth between you both was undeniable. Despite everything that had happened, the love and laughter you shared made you feel like you could conquer anything, together.

While you were putting the final things in place, H/N smirked and couldn’t resist a final playful jab. "You know, I’d make a great superhero. Maybe we should get matching costumes—partners in crime-fighting?"

You raised an eyebrow, playfully placing your hand on your hip. "Only if I get to have the cooler gadgets."

H/N laughed, though he winced slightly from the wound, but his smile never faded. He gently pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Deal. Now, let’s get out of here and go home."

With your heart feeling lighter and your love stronger than ever, you knew that as long as you were together, nothing could ever truly break you.

To be continued...

♡

Aren't they cute? (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

Stay tuned for the final part - part 22!

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Love, YumiYue 🌙

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Disclaimer: This story is a work of fan fiction inspired by Stray Kids’ song “Freeze”. All characters and events are fictional and are not intended to represent real people or events.

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