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kingtomura · 9 months ago

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Uber Eats

synopsis: What a crappy Friday night! You’re the only driver for your restaurant and you have to deliver to this Tomura S. guy. The worst part? He never tips. wc: 2.7k content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, quirkless au, oral (f! receiving), overstim, degredation, vaginal fingering, mdni cross posted to ao3

You hated this guy.

He ordered every week without fail, like clockwork.

“Do I have to make this delivery?” You ask your manager, wishing the ticket in your hand would burst into flames.

It did not.

The black ink only stared back at you as you stewed in your own misery:

Tomura S.

“You’re the only driver we have!” Your manager calls back to you, tossing some rice around in a wok before dropping it into a takeout container. “But after this, you’re good to go.” he placed the next order into the wok and the hiss of the food only added to the bustle of the restaurant.

You sigh, accepting your fate and crumple the receipt in your hand. It was the last delivery of the night so you find solace in at least being able to leave once you were done.

This guy was a known regular, and better known for not leaving a tip. Ever. It didn’t matter how big the order was and it didn’t matter what the weather had been outside — Tomura S. would not tip. And unfortunately for you it seemed he was more likely to order on your shift so you had to be the one to deliver. What awful luck.

Your manager waves you off after he finishes packing Tomura’s order and you step outside to your bike. It was about a fifteen minute bike ride, and the sweet promise of going home was all the motivation you needed to get it over and done. You put the order in the front basket of your bike and were off, hitting more than a few bumps in the road on your way.

Once you reach the apartment complex, you set your bike aside and head up to his door.

You’ve been here many times before, but that doesnt stop the nerves.

Tomura was an… interesting fellow. Never a smile on his face and rarely a thank you.

You steel yourself at the door of his apartment, taking a breath before raising your fist to knock. Maybe today would be different, you ponder, shifting your weight to cool your nerves. Maybe he would tip generously and send you on your way.

Everything could all be a big misunderstanding and you start to feel yourself get a little hopeful. He could be a nice guy under that rocky demeanor — maybe you’ve misjudged him.

The door opens with a little too much force and a vermillion glare meets your eyes.

You feel yourself falter under his gaze. “Um, Tomura?" You put on the best smile you could and extend your arm, the bag of takeout presented to him. "Here’s your order.”

He looks down at the bag and then back up to you — carmine eyes giving away ill hidden boredom before ripping it from your hand and turning on his heels. The slam of his door making you jolt as you strained to hear his muttered thanks. So quiet you’re sure you may have imagined it.

It would be generous to say you were shocked, but tonight had not been a kind night to you. A few too many potholes on your way here and a few too little tips given out has your lips pursed and fists clenching in anger. You had just about had it with this man.

What was his deal? You come all this way, make sure his food is hot — hell, you even smile and that's still not enough. Well, you were done playing nice and found your fist tapping against his door before your brain could process your actions.

In less than a few seconds the door swung open, this time a much more annoyed Tomura greeting you.

“What?” He rasped, face turned down into a scowl, much different from his earlier indifference.

You don't waver, “What is your deal?”

His brows shoot up in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“I said, what is your deal? I’ve been delivering to you for months and not a single time have you tipped me! You know that's how I make a living right? It's just unfair.” you huff, exasperated.

This seems to surprise him further, and if you weren't crazy you would think that was amusement on his lips. “Tip? Is that what you want?”

You are surprised, but you nod.

He huffs, taking a step back, “Fine.”

And then he’s gone.

You’re not sure if he intends for you to follow him inside the apartment, but you have an idea that he wouldn't leave his door open otherwise — so, against your better judgment, you go in.

It's dark in the apartment, and not very spacious. The dim lighting gives you little to work with but the blue light from the idle game screen playing on the tv in the living room helps you make out what you're looking at. Tomura has already gone deeper into the home, no doubt to his bedroom or wherever he may keep his money. You decide to stay where you are in the living room and look around a little.

The space wasn’t… awful, messy — yes, but not disgusting. It looked average to what any other twenty-something living alone would look like.

You try not to make a habit of getting to know customers you deliver to, but judging from the nintendo switch docked near his television, it seems you may have a little in common.

What surprises you are the anime figurines and plushies lining the bookshelf near the television. He didn’t strike you as a plushie enjoyer. Finding yourself smiling, you walk over to one. A green dino with goofy teeth and cute eyes. Cute. You reach out to touch it, the plushie feeling as soft as it looked.

The sound of footsteps on hardwood break your focus and you look back to see a grumpy Tomura, looking through his – assumedly empty – wallet, “I don’t have any cash on me.”

His hair is fluffy and white, but looks a pale blue in the hue of the paused game on the television screen. His frustration is prominent in his scowl and you take this moment to really look at him, carmine eyes focused and brooding. He was taller than you originally thought and his black shirt was loose around the collar area, exposing his collar bones and you find your eyes drifting lower. You could tell he was toned under the thin black shirt he wore but you had never had a chance to really notice. Unconsciously, you lick your lips.

“Did you hear me?”

Your eyes snap up, cheeks flushing, “Y-yeah!”

He huffed, irritation obvious but continued anyway, “well, what do you want?”

You don't know what you want anymore. If he doesn't have cash then it doesn’t matter. This seems like it may have just been an oversight on his part, so you may be better off letting this go. Maybe he would order again and tip you extra next time.

You take a few steps forward, every intention to walk by him and get to the front door when you stop, finally responding to his question, “nothing, just remember next time.” Your gaze catches his and then drifts lower, to his lips. Tomura catches the trail of your gaze and it forces you to look away. You swore there was a hint of a smile on his lips but maybe you were tired, it has been a long day.

You shift your weight, ready to continue on your way out when Tomura reaches for your arm, grip tight and demanding. It takes you by surprise, but surprises you even further when he dips down and crashes his lips into yours, rough ones meeting the softness of yours. The kiss is not smooth or slow, but needy and hungry, Tomura playfully nipping your bottom lip before pulling away.

“I have an idea,” he breathes and pulls you by the hand to his couch, falling ungracefully onto it and in an instant he's on top of you.

Your cheeks are burning as you place both palms onto his chest to halt his movements, “H-hey, what are you doing?”

His laugh is low as if you should already know the plan. “I’m going to give you your tip.”

And then he's down again, lips warm and demanding. A moan escapes your throat and you fist a hand in his hair, overwhelmed and desperate to get more of him. His tongue swipes your bottom lip and you waste no time letting him in. His large hand trailed down your side, and you pressed closer to him. He felt intoxicating, and arousal pooled in your belly as Tomura pulled away, panting. He was just as flushed as you knew you were, the wild look in his eyes only making the arousal between your thighs slicker.

Tomura trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving soft bites in between licks. A particularly hard bite made you gasp, gripping his shoulder and turning your head, giving him better access to your neck.

He only chuckled, sitting back and looking down at you, “You look like whore.” he spat, teasing tone in his smile. “All spread out on my couch like this.”

His hands moved to your pants, popping the buttons and pulling them down. You should stop him, tell him to wait because you barely know him and it's a little soon, but his words have you biting your lip and lifting your hips to help him get your pants down and off.

That only makes Tomura shake his head in disbelief, a pleased smile betraying his false disappointment.

He reaches down and presses his middle finger to your clothed cunt, rubbing soft circles and laughs, “You’re soaked. Didn’t take you for such a slut.”

The words only spurred you on, spreading your legs further and closing your eyes. It felt good to finally get some kind of contact – he was right where he needed to be. Until he pulled away, leaving you more desperate and a complaint on your lips. You stop in your tracks though as Tomura leans down, tongue licking you through your panties.

Your hands fly to his hair, moan erupting from your lips. You’re unsure how thin his apartment walls are, but you don't care. The feeling sends pleasure shooting up your spine and your heart picks up its pace.

Tomura laps at your clothed cunt, fabric muting the full feeling but giving you enough to cry out. You find yourself grinding closer, body begging him to keep going and he obliges, only for a moment. He gives your cunt one more kiss before pulling back and pulling your soaked panties down and off, tossing them across the living room.

He wastes no time diving back in, tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit and your back arches. The hold you have on Tomura’s hair is so tight, you're sure it’s painful at this point, but he only groans, wet muscle lapping your clit eagerly. Your thighs reflexively try to close, but Tomura is faster, hand stopping them and thumb rubbing soothing circles.

“Oh, god,” you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure building quickly and you will yourself not to go over – not yet. That would be embarrassing.

You feel the pressure in your abdomen tighten and it's clear you won't last much longer. Tomura took that moment to suck your sensitive nub and you spill over, mouth open in a silent moan and thighs quivering.

Tomura rides you through it, only pulling away from his ministrations once you catch your breath. “That soon, huh?” There's no bite to his words and you only give him a halfhearted glare, heavy lidded eyes still reeling from your orgasm.

You’re distracted and don’t notice Tomura’s not finished with his antics. It wasn’t until you felt a digit pressing at your heat, slipping in slowly and making you mewl in pleasure. You were soaked, and the pressure making your head loll onto the armrest of the couch. It felt so full already.

“Ah!” you gasped, feeling the familiar glide of Tomura’s tongue against your oversensitive clit once more.

It was almost too much, your cries reaching new heights as he pumped his digit in and out of your sopping cunt, juices from your arousal mixing with his saliva. He was taking his time building your next orgasm, moving slow and steady, making your toes curl in pleasure.

The push of a second finger against your hole had you tapping Tomura’s shoulder, “t-too much! Tomura!”

Your cries fell on deaf ears as he continued, tip of his tongue flicking your clit as the second finger pushed in to join the first, waisting no time fucking you in earnest. His fingers were thick and the feeling of being so full made you dizzy, pleasure spiraling as you tried to ground yourself mentally. You grabbed Tomura’s shoulder, fisting his shirt in your hand as you lost yourself in the pleasure once more.

Tomura’s motions ceased as his eyes met yours. You could only imagine how blissed out you looked in this moment, breath ragged and sweat clinging to your brow. Tomura wasn’t much better off — he was as desperate as you, hair splayed in wild directions after your hands ravaged through it. You open your mouth – impatient words on the tip of your tongue and Tomura curls his fingers, digits hitting that spongy spot inside that made you see stars.

He flattens his tongue, giving your clit a final lap and it sends you over – for the second time tonight.

Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. The feeling sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, eyes squeezed shut and mind buzzing.

Tomura watches as you come apart, palming his erection in awe. You meet his eyes once you come down from your second high of the night and Tomura wastes no time in crashing his lips to yours, clumsy and wet. You could taste yourself on his lips and groan when he pulls you closer.

There's a trail of saliva linking the two of you once he pulls away, but Tomura’s heavy gaze is only on you. He leans back in once more to give you a much softer kiss, before pulling away again and giving the same soft kiss on your cheek — heat rushing to them for reasons entirely different from what just transpired between you both.

It was very… intimate – in a way you did not expect from someone who had just called you a slut.

It makes you want to reach out for him when he pulls away further, eyes seemingly pondering something you’re unaware of. He looked down at you one more time, before looking to his television and his unopened takeout bag on the coffee table.

“My show is about to start, so…” he starts, picking up the remote to change the channel of the television, screen lighting up and noise filling the room. You stare as Tomura sits back and gets comfortable, opening his takeout bag and removing the contents.

Was he… was he kicking you out right now? Seriously?

Your brows fly up, eyes widened in disbelief — his lack of reaction at your scoff only proves you right. He was kicking you out. Bullshit. The humiliation is evident as you scurry to find your pants, not bothering to find wherever the hell he tossed your underwear earlier, and get the hell out of there before you said something you would regret.

The only thing on your mind was the front door as you brushed by Tomura one last time.

“Hey!” he called, gluing you to your spot. Your heart jumped as you turned back to him vaguely hoping he would offer you to stay a little longer.

That small flame of hope died as soon as it came because Tomura was only extending your long forgotten phone to you.

You snatch the device from his hand and make your way out the door, face burning and legs still tingling from the way he made you come undone mere moments before.

Once you reach your bike you find yourself huffing in annoyance. What else did you expect? Him to offer you some of his takeout? That would just be silly. You’re walking your bike to the sidewalk, ready to hop on and go back to the restaurant – sure your manager is worried sick about his only driver – before your phone buzzes in your back pocket.

Tomura S.

Your eyes widened as you read a text from the name you knew you hadn't saved in your contacts before.

You forgot my drink.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki tomura #mha x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shigiraki x reader #my works #yes i am posting this on a friday night what about it #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki

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ambrosiagourmet · 7 months ago

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In chapter 28, Marcille lays out why the journey she's been on has been worth the pain: because they were able to bring Falin back. The injuries, the indignity, and the mess of it all - they are tolerable primarily in context of destination she believes she's reached at this point.

In truth, of course, the story is far from finished. In fact, I would argue that this is actually where hers really starts. This scene holds the seed of the very thing the Winged Lion will exploit to lead Marcille to become the Lord of the Dungeon. After all, with a desire as far reaching and deeply held as Marcille's, if the only acceptable outcome is success, what other choice does she have but to bargain with the infinite?

So let's talk about this idea - where it leads her, how Laios' path intersects with it, and how they both help each other move forward in the face of failure.

First though, I want to step back and talk about something else: the shapeshifter chapters.

With these chapters recently covered by the anime, there has, of course, come plenty of fun discussions about which version of each character belongs which other character's perceptions, and what that means.

One thing I've seen pointed out a few times is the fact that both Laios and Marcille's impressions of each other are based around Falin. Marcille's version of Laios is larger and more masculine, because those are the traits that stuck out to her in contrast to Falin. Laios' version of Marcille was directly inspired by her appearance and demeanor when resurrecting Falin.

So why is this important to a discussion about Marcille being focused on success? Well, it shows us where Laios and Marcille's relationship starts: built primarily around their shared love for Falin. It's from that shared beginning that they begin to learn about each other on their own terms.

And this is true for the whole group, to be clear. They are united by circumstance - love for a lost companion, a sense of responsibility, a desire for freedom - but they all grow and help each other beyond that circumstance. They help Senshi bury the ghosts of his past and eat some Hippogriff stew. They help Izutsumi open up to mutual love and friendship. And they learn so much about each other: about Chilchuck's family and Laios' love of monsters and Marcille's desires to live life alongside others.

In the particular case of Marcille and Laios, understanding each other is what lets them save each other. It is not through Falin that Laios talks Marcille down from the edge the Lion has brought her to, nor is it through her that Marcille comforts Laios after the demon is defeated, when it is still unclear how everything will work out.

In fact, it is very specifically the unknown fate of Falin that Marcille comforts him about.

She is willing to accept the outcome - willing, now, to embrace the journey itself, rather than only accepting it as a means to an end.

This is a lesson she learns from Laios, and it's a lesson we watch Laios learn, too.

Just before making her deal with the Lion, Marcille recalls everything that led her to that moment. She lingers on the pain, recalling the worst of their journey:

She only pushes through by remembering her goals: saving Falin, and equalizing the lifespans of her friends to match her own.

And yet, 10 chapters later, when reflecting on why she actually wants to see her goals through, it is the good parts of that very same journey that shine through.

There's an inherent contradiction here, one which Marcille doesn't know how to face. How can the suffering that she tolerates also be the love that drives her forward? How can the loss that she's worked so hard to reverse also be the very circumstance that created a world she, now, cannot stand to give up?

And Laios confronts her with the truth. Because it just is.

Losing Falin forced him to open up to others in a way he never had. It forced him to choose what he cares about, and in making that choice, it gave him the opportunity to be seen. To connect with others.

He has already had to come to terms with the fact that Falin's death has given him something - he would not have been able to kill her again if he hadn't.

There is something here that is fundamental to Dungeon Meshi's understanding of what life even is. Like, I don't think it's a coincidence that part of Laios' speech to Marcille in chapter 85 is actually first seen in the chapter where they fight off ghosts.

In 'Sorbet,' while possessed , Laios thinks that it would have been better if the dragon had eaten him, instead of Falin. The ghosts make people lose their will to live - they are dragged away from life.

When he's pulled back from that brink, Laios realizes that he can't move forward without accepting that she is gone. He even compares the way he was holding on to her to being possessed: it pulled him away from life, from the present moment.

To carry on, he must accept what has been lost, and focus on protecting the life that they still have.

Like Marcille, he has to accept the contradictions of their journey. That life means eating, and eating requires death. That sometimes one must be selfish in order to be kind, and that selflessness can easily be twisted into to cruelty.

That loss will, inevitably, lead you to find happiness that you may not have found otherwise.

This is how he gets through to Marcille. And I think part of the reason he reaches her with these specific ideas is because those contradictions are baked so thoroughly into their relationship.

Marcille only met Falin after she had been left behind by Laios. Laios was able to reconnect with Falin because she left Marcille. They both met each other through Falin, and yet they only really got to know and care for one another after she died.

And of course, that's why Marcille uses the same ideas to comfort Laios, in the final chapter. It is because of Laios that she is able to accept the journey for itself, and not need the happy ending to justify its meaning to her.

Together, they help each other move forward, and accept that they may not be able to bring Falin back.

Which, if I'm being honest... I think this is the reason Falin can come back, narratively speaking, without the resurrection feeling like it takes away from the themes of the story.

After all, she doesn't do it for Marcille or Laios - she does it for her own sake. Her own hunger and her own desire to eat are the things that lead her back to life.

All three of them, together, end the story like this: not clinging to the things they are afraid to lose, but knowing they can choose to move forward together.

And, importantly, this happy ending is no longer the thing that gives the journey meaning. Rather, it is the privilege of the journey itself that is her happy ending: the chance to walk alongside others in the time they have, to get to know each other, and to eat well.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #marcille donato #laios touden #falin touden #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi analysis #for anyone keeping track I'm on pdt so it IS still the same day that I said I'd post it on #PUT DOWN THE TOMATOES

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

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World Cup VI

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: It's heartbreaking

It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.

The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.

Eaten from the inside out.

Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.

To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.

Not now.

Not ever.

It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.

There's not much else to say about it.

The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.

The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.

The board goes up.

"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."

The final of a World Cup.

Sweden, two.

Spain, two.

And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.

"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."

You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.

Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.

The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.

Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.

You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.

You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.

You rise to the occasion every time.

You show why you are so sought after.

Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.

Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.

One ball in the back of the net.

You can delay that for as long as you need to.

One goal to win a match.

One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.

One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.

But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.

Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.

Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.

No penalty has ever escaped you.

The shots are taken in quick succession.

You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.

The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.

To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.

She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.

They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.

There is no reason for them to be worried.

Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.

She steps forward.

You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.

The conflict is clear on your face.

To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.

The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.

"I know," Talia replies.

"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."

"Don't be. Go do what you do best."

Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.

Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.

The stadium holds its breath.

A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.

But you stand in their way.

A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.

"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."

The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...

Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.

Your body crashes to the ground.

A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.

Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.

The knock to Spain's confidence is big.

It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.

Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.

Scored even quicker by your captain.

A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.

The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.

The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.

She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.

"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."

Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.

"Go," She says," And celebrate."

"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."

"Your mothers-"

"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."

You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.

It was so close.

She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.

Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.

But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.

Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.

You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.

There is no hope of competing against you.

A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.

Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.

But you don't go anywhere.

You just hold her as she cries.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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twstowo · 10 months ago

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True Love Kiss But He Isn't The One [Housewardens+Jamil]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You have fallen under a sleeping spell and only a kiss of true love can break it, he kisses you but you don’t wake up.

♡︎ Since I love angst I decided to write this

♡︎ I’m adding Jamil because this fits him so much not because im biased or anything like that

♡︎Warning: Angst, blood in Jamil’s part, Malleus is kinda yandere

♡︎Second part

⋆⋅☆Riddle

His gaze holds a pained expression as he watches you. Not seeing any reaction after kissing you, he waits, hoping the spell might take time to break. But as minutes pass, his heart beats fast, aching painfully as he begins fearing the worst—that he might not be the one you love. His head bows, fighting back tears.

You were his first love, someone who made him feel like no one else ever had. To him, you meant everything. Even if he's not the one, he stays by your side, tending to you. He refuses to let anyone else kiss you, unwilling to discover who your true love might be. Instead, he focuses on finding a potion or magical spell that could awaken you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Leona

He broke the lamp next to your bed. Consumed by heartbreak and rage, he couldn't control his emotions. Was it all a way to win his favor? Did you only care about his money? Did he hold no significance to you, despite your importance to him? Storming out of the room, he leaves you to your fate, vowing never to return. Someone else will need to assist you. He fears that if he ever lays eyes on you again, he might commit the gravest mistake of his life—doing something to make you despise him forever.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Azul

He can't bring himself to look at you. He even kissed you twice, feeling devastated after seeing you not wake up from the first kiss. How could you do this to him? You made him feel so relaxed and open, sharing his deepest, darkest secrets that he wouldn't tell anyone else, only for him to realize he might not hold your heart. He isn't angry at you, he's angry at himself. He's not as great as he envisions himself to be, and you knew it. You'd always seen through his fake smiles.

He doesn't return to see you, but even after such heartbreak, his heart still belongs to you. He prepares a potion to break the spell. However, don't expect anything more from him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Kalim

He can't hold back his tears, convinced that something's amiss with the spell and that you truly love him. Jamil has to take him out of the room otherwise, he'd stay there until he witnesses you waking up. Thoughts of you consume him, he's willing to spare all his money for a potion that could awaken you. Even after you awaken, he won't leave your side. Despite knowing you may not reciprocate his feelings, he's determined to be there for you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Jamil

He's utterly disappointed in himself, feeling ashamed for even thinking that kissing you would alter anything. How foolish he was, how naive... He bites his lip so hard that blood drips onto the floor, his gaze fixed on your peaceful expression. He contemplates his love for you and the folly of ever hoping for your reciprocation. Storming out of the room, he's relieved no one saw him entering. You'll never discover that he had been there. You didn’t need to know how much he liked you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Vil

Vil handles this situation better than anyone else, he comprehends that your feelings for him don't mirror his own, and he's accepting of that. He seeks another way to awaken you, and when you regain consciousness, he'll be there to support you. Even though he didn't capture your heart before the spell, he's determined that he can certainly do so after.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Idia

He locks himself inside his room, crying inconsolably. Not even Ortho can take him out. When he discovers that you're finally awake, he avoids learning how it happened, unwilling to entertain the possibility that someone other than him might have kissed you. Mustering all his courage to give you a kiss was a testament to his genuine love for you, a feeling that still lingers within him. He doesn’t know what to do with these emotions.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Malleus

He truly believed that the two of you were destined for each other. The way you made him experience such unfamiliar emotions, feeling wanted and less lonely, all the hours spent talking, the gentle touches, and the enamored looks he'd give you—it had all been one-sided. He gazes at your sleeping face, knowing he possesses the power to wake you up with a spell. Yet, he hesitates. What if he awakens you, and you run to someone else instead of him? The mere thought is unbearable to him.

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yoditopascal · 3 months ago

Text

Like A Prayer (Part 4)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: edited by the ever so lovely karmiccc on ao3! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28 @sadslasher13 @night-spectrum @eveieforeve02

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

On Your Left Babygirl

Wade watches from the corner of his eye as your feet drag behind you, the now limp Wolverine was pressing his full mass into the two of you, and you were clearly struggling with the newly added weight.

“One Anchor Being coming right up, on your left, baby girl!”

“This Logan has everything! He can do pretty much anything the old model could plus he even sings musicals! And he’s actually wearing a costume like he’s not embarrassed to be in a superhero movie for once!”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said my universe is dying, because this sad sack of nuts got himself killed. Well, problem solved!”

“Y-you actually think you can replace an Anchor Being with this?” Paradox says between laughs pointing at Wolverine still on the floor. “I wouldn’t have accepted any other Wolverine bee tee dubs, but you’ve brought me the absolute worst Wolverine there is!

“What do you mean the worst one?” Wade asked, walking closer to Paradox.

Just as Wade was less than an arm’s length away from Paradox, you saw the off brand Mr. Darcy reachout and grab something behind his back. You jump forward placing yourself in between the two men just as Paradox drew his weapon.

“Wade watch-!” You don’t get to finish your sentence as Wade watches in absolute horror as you disintegrate into nothing in front of him.

Wade falls to his knees as if trying to catch your particles that were still floating about in the air before disappearing entirely.

The distinct snikt of Wolverine unleashing his claws breaks Wade out of his trance as he watches the Wolverine, now back on his feet, lunge for Paradox with his claws in pure rage before disappearing too.

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

Logan groans as he sits up, cracking his neck back into place. He raises a hand to shield his face from the harsh rays of the sun above him as he lets out a sharp hiss from the incoming headache he was starting to get from the combination of the fall and all the alcohol he drank earlier.

Barely starting to sober up, he looks around himself with a grunt as he stands, taking in the environment around himself.

If he had to guess he’d had no idea where the fuck he was. The scene around him was dry and arid like a desert, only this one didn’t seem familiar to him at all. There was all kinds of trash and debris around him like it had been dumped here and forgotten. Taking in a few greedy inhales, Logan scented the air, coming back with only faint traces of smoke, dirt and something else, something sweet and fresh and familiar but still different at the same time.

Turning his head to follow the source of the smell Logan spots you, laid out face first on the ground. He walks up to you apprehensively, not knowing if he could trust you or not but as he approaches he realizes you’re out cold.

Getting a closer look at you now he’s able to take in your features up close. If you were a shapeshifter of some kind like he previously thought, you were a hell of a good one. At first glance you looked just like her, the same hair and big doe eyes that used to look up at him. You were even dressed the same way.

Squatting down to your level Logan’s able to get a much better whiff of you from here. There’s no mistaking a scent, even when Morph and Mystique used to try and trick him back in the day but it never worked because they could never change their smell.

There was no doubt about it, the smell was definitely yours. Shamefully Logan found his eyes wandering down your frame slowly as he drank you in, eyes lingering on your ass for a few seconds before turning you over onto your back, and God, even your face was the same. The longer he looked at you the more he realized you really were her. Only, you had less pronounced smile lines, and were less muscular, having probably only known peace in your life, you had appeared more softer than she had been. Just as his gloved hand was a breath away from caressing your cheek, he’s ripped from his inspection by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind him.

Standing to his feet, he looks back at you one last time before looking at the disfigured body of the guy in red from before as his bones snap back into place. He sniffs the air again, realizing the man that had just fallen from the sky. He smelled absolutely rancid to him, stinking of blood, gunpowder and a distinct sickly cancerous smell.

Definitely a threat. Logan concludes as he starts to walk up to him.

Wade coughs as he rolls over onto his back, looking down between his legs as Wolverine walked up to him, stopping right as his feet, “Don’t just stand there, you big ape. Give me a hand!”

Wolverine stared down at him, his hazel eyes swirling with contempt and silent fury as he unsheathed his claws.

“No, I’m actually okay, thank you,” Wade barely finishes his sentence before he’s being stabbed through both his sides, letting out a sharp curse as Logan hoists him in the air like a kebab.

“Where the hell are we?!” He demands.

“I don’t know! It all looks kinda Mad Maxy but that would be copyright infringement, wouldn’t it?!” Wade cries out as Wolverine harshly drops him to the ground.

“Fucking jokes,” Logan scoffs before turning his back to him, walking towards your still unconscious form.

“Hey hey! You stay away from my pookie bear, you hear me?” Wade warns as he cocks his gun pointing it at the back of Wolverine’s head.

“Or what?” He dared the man to continue.

Wade lowers his gun as he realizes how fast the situation was starting to escalate, his eyes dart back and forth between you and the very ready to rip his guts out Wolverine before he curses to himself. After putting his gun away, Wade raises his hands up in the air as a way to appease Logan as he began to warily approach him.

“Look, we don't have time for this alright? If we don’t make it back to that Paradox asshole. Everyone I know is going to die,” Wade starts to explain the situation to him but Logan rolls his eyes as he turns back around, continuing to walk towards you.

“No, my fucking problem,” Logan replies coldly as he waves him off.

Wade felt his blood boil. He was never a patient man, nor a very nice one, but compared to this guy? He was a fucking saint. It was an insult to everyone that his Anchor being replacement had to be such a dick.

“Is that what you said when your world went to shit?” Wade shoots back to Wolverine, stopping him in his tracks again.

“Come again?” Logan growls, turning back to face him.

“Yeah, I heard all about you.” Wade began as he turned around, becoming increasingly exasperated by the situation at hand, ”You screwed up everything, but you really should be thanking me for pulling you out of that bed you shit-“

Wade let out a scream as searing pain shot through his body. Looking down he sees the infamous adamantium claws of Wolverine protruding through his chest.

“Oh, you backstabbing son of a bitch!” Wade grunts in agony as he’s hoisted in the air again, this time on his back.

Fighting back against the pain, Wade uses his own momentum to flip himself behind Wolverine, throwing them both onto their backs on the ground, the blades of the Wolverine’s claws tearing more of his flesh and bone on their way out as he did so. Without missing a beat Wade pressed his guns against Wolverine’s sides and shot out several rounds as the older man let out a guttural scream of pain.

“Are you ready to be calm now?” Wade asks almost mockingly, guns still pressed to Wolverine’s ribs.

He’s met immediately with a headbutt, no doubt breaking his nose underneath the mask.

“Fuck!” Wade swears in pain as Wolverine rolls off him.

Not giving Wade any time to gather his bearings, the older mutant grabs him by his ankles before throwing him into a wall. Wade heard the bones in his arm snap as he crashed through the cement wall, tumbling backwards against a sunken monument that seemed familiar to him. Wade groaned as he stumbled back up to his feet, his arm snapped back into place painfully as he reloaded his gun.

“I don’t want to fight you, Peanut! Doesn’t matter what you did. I just need your help.” Wade called over to Wolverine as he stood across from him in the wasteland.

“I don’t fucking care,” Logan snaps back as he spits out a smoking bullet, the rest falling from his torso, his healing factor working over time to push them out.

“Fuck, this is gonna hurt,” Wade says more so to himself than anyone else, “Alright! Fuck it! Let’s give the people what they came for!”

“Let’s fucking go,” Logan says as he crouches down to his knees, readying himself for whatever Wade was about to throw at him.

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

You take a sharp much needed inhale through your nose as the final bone in your spine snaps back into place. Sputtering out a cough you sat up bltrying to block out the blinding light of the sun with your hand as a headache pulsed through your skull. Looking around you slowly take in the dilapidated scenery around you.

Where the hell were you? You thought to yourself as you looked down at your watch to check the time.

The screen was broken, a crack having spiderwebbed across the screen. You weren’t exactly sure when it had broken but from what you could tell from when it had stopped working it was well beyond midnight.

“Oh I’m so fucking fired tomorrow,” You say with a groan as you rise to your feet dusting yourself off.

The sound of shouting and rapid gunfire drew your attention in the distance. Approaching the sound as cautiously as you could, you peek over a mound of rubble to find Wade being held down by an enraged Wolverine with Wade’s katanas and baby knife sticking out of him, reminding you of a human pin cushion.

“Let’s see you grow your fucking head back!” He shouts as he goes to sink his claws into Wade’s throat.

Picking up the first thing you see laying around you run up behind the Wolverine hitting him in the head as hard as you could, breaking the branch in your hands on impact. With a heavy grunt, he stumbles off of Wade onto the ground.The Wolverine clutches his ear as he snaps his head up to glare at his assailant. The rage in his eyes shifts to shock as you stand over wade protectively, glaring down at him with your broken branch raised high and at the ready for you to swing at him again if need be.

Snapping out of his daze, Wolverine gets to his feet and with his claws sheathed going to strike the red suited clown again, when hastily Wade rises to his feet, immediately moving you behind him with his hands raised up in surrender.

“Wait, wait, I can fix it! I know how to fix it!” Wade shouted at the Wolverine not willing to put you or himself in the Wolverine’s wraith.

“Fix what?” Wolverine asks has he slowly starts to lower his fist as he looks back and forth between you two.

“Whatever it is that you did that made you so bad! Those freaks in the TVA, they have the power to end our universe, but they can also change yours!” Wade says pushing you further behind him, not liking how the man was eyeing you.

Logan looks between the two of you incredulously as if trying to understand if what Wade just told him was true or not.

“Well?” He asks gruffly, eyes now completely focused on you.

Realizing he was talking to you and that your answer might be his deciding factor on whether or not to help you, you take a deep breath as you walk out from behind Wade who looks at you skeptically for a moment.

“We just traveled the multiverse trying to find you because of the TVA,” You began with a surprised chuckle still reeling in that fact that you actually did do that as you returned Logan's intense gaze,“Until today I didn’t think any of this kinda stuff was possible… But it is so I believe him,” You said exchanging a look with Wade as you finish, he nods his head to you almost in thanks.

Logan stares at you a bit longer before letting out a frustrated huff as he looks away, sheathing his claws. You nearly let out a beath of relief at the sight until the older man resumed his attention on you two again. The Wolverine looked back and forth between the two of you as he felt his nerves starting to grate again.

“How the fuck do you know this clown?” Logan asks annoyed, his fists were down at his sides but still balled up ready to fight again if he needed to.

Peeking over Wade’s shoulder, you part your lips about to answer him when suddenly you're cut off by a new voice.

“Hey! We fight each other, we lose,” Said a voice from above you all.

Puzzled, you all look up in the direction the voice came from.

“Who the hell is that?” You asked scrunching your face up in confusion as you use a hand to block out the harsh rays of the sun from your vision.

“Dear God its him…” Wade said, astonished.

“Who?” You asked as you and Wolverine share a confused glance.

Above you, on a worn down billboard, stood a man. He was covered in loose fitting dark clothes with a hood draped over him, blocking his face from view.

“That my little chocolate drop is the One. The superhero equivalent to comfort food or molly. White guys’ answer to all the disappointments in another A-lister,” Wade went on rambling as the cloaked man jumped down and landed before the three of you.

“Now that’s a superhero landing!” Wade clapped as the cloaked man turned to point out into the desert

“They're coming,” The man said.

Alarmed, you all look in the direction of his focus. On the horizon you all could see three cars speeding towards you, all three of the giving off serious Mad Max vibes.

“Well they’re definitely driving angry,” Wade joked, though you could tell by the drop in his voice that he was assessing the entire situation very much aware of the danger you two were about to be in.

“I got this,” The cloaked man said pulling down his hood to reveal a familiar face, “Stay close.”

“Aye aye, Cap,” Wade says walking up behind him to wrap his arms around the man before he pulls them off of him awkwardly.

As the cars neared they circled around the four of you a few times, some of the men blew out crude whistles making you cringe in disgust as you clutched your broken branch to your chest. Finally they stopped, their vehicles parked around you, caging you four in.

“Cassandra is going to be giddy when she sees what we caught!” A man with stringy greasy hair grins, showing off his filthy teeth to the group, “You know you can’t run.”

“You see anyone running, dick for brains? You’re not gonna love what happens next,” The cloaked man retorted.

“Oh my god, he’s going to say it!” Wade says smacking one of his katana’s that still protruded from the Wolverine’s chest.

Logan stumbled back a bit with a weak ‘ah fuck’ as you instinctively reached out to steady him. He turned his head to look at you as soon as he felt your hands on him. You held his eyes for less than a second before abruptly removing yourself from him, now focusing on looking at anything else but him.

“Avengers Assem-!” Wade begins to shout as if anticipating what the cloaked man was about to say, however that’s not what he said at all.

“Flame on!”

“Sorry, what now?”

The cloaked man shot out into the sky in a ball of fire. He hovered over everyone for a moment before blasting out a stream of fire directly at the greasy man that had spoken before. The greasy man grins as he holds his hand out, absorbing the flames before he twists his fingers cutting off the cloaked man’s power like a faucet. The man barely had a second to register what happened before he began his miserable descent from the sky. He hit the billboard he was standing on before twice before flopping on the ground, completely unconscious.

“We don’t know that guy,” the Wolverine was quick to say.

“We thought we did,” Wade agreed as he looked over the unconscious man before turning back to the group of thugs.

“Oh but I know you,” A beastly looking man with pitch black eyes said as he dropped down to their level from atop a car.

His dark orbs were fixated on Wolverine, who returned his glare with his own as he bared his teeth at him with a growl.

“Holy shit… Sabretooth… your brother,” Wade said, a hint of excitement in his voice as he looked between the two.

“Ready to die?” Sabertooth asked as he stalked towards them, eyes never leaving Wolverine.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Time!” Wade calls out as he begins to remove his weapons from Wolverine’s body giving him a long winded nonsensical pep talk in normal Wade fashion.

“Shut the fuck up!” Wolverine growls out, shoving him back into you.

What an asshole you thought to yourself with a scrunched up face.

The Wolverine lowered himself into a fighting stance before the two mutants lunged for each other. The two collided briefly in the middle as the familiar sound of metal tearing against bone and flesh rang through the air, before sliding past each other entirely. Both brothers stood on opposite sides of the dry field.

“What is it, girl? Is there trouble at the well?” Wade mocked with an innocent tilt of his head.

You might’ve laughed at the Lassie reference if it wasn’t for the fact that not a second later Sabretooth’s head rolled off his shoulders and right at your feet. You scrunched up your nose again, turning your head away in disgust as Wade picked it up.

“Behold! The head of your precious Queen, Furiosa! I have the Wolverine! I alone control her! You come for me! You come for her!” Wade declares as he raises the head in the air like a prize before he leans over into Logan’s ear, “I’m so sorry. I know it’s pronounced him. I’m gender blind. It’s my cross to bear.” Logan simply rolls his eyes at him.

“Who’s next?” He challenges looking around at the men who were left, waiting for someone to step up to him.

The greasy man let out an amused chuckle before calling out to one of his partners “Toad! You’re up!”

You look towards the other mutant and resist the urge to cringe again as he shoots out his slimy green tongue and pulls a lever. Instantly it activates a giant metal magnet that drags both Wade and Wolverine off their feet and into its pull.

“Wade!” you called out, unaware as a giant sentinel leg comes flying at you from behind, stunning you as it flies towards your companions, carrying you with it.

“Oh fu-“ Was all Wolverine had managed to get out before you and the sentinel leg crashed into him and Wade, knocking out the three of you on impact.

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #platonic deadpool x reader #deadpool x reader #hugh jackman #like a prayer

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moonbeamwritings · 2 years ago

Text

Satoru has never gotten into your bed gently; has never sunk into the mattress without a bounce, without jostling the plush surface with an audible oof and pulling you from the depths of sleep. Never. Not once.

And tonight is no different.

It’s an impossible task for him, it seems. Like trying to breathe underwater or pick something to watch on TV. And the worst part of it all is that you know he’s doing it on purpose. No matter how hard you may try to will yourself to sleep through it or how much you may complain when he finally settles beside you, the man is unrelenting. A pain in the ass, even at one in the morning. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so damn annoying.

“Satoru,” you warn, though it’s not as threatening as you hope it would be. You blink over at him with heavy lids, tone dripping with exhaustion. “Must you do that every time you get into bed late?”

He has the audacity to think about it. “Mm, well I suppose I don’t have to,” he coos, voice low like he’s trying to lull you back to sleep. “But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t wake up my little sweetheart to give them a goodnight kiss when I got home?”

“A better one?”

Your eyes slip closed as if shutting them will make him disappear (or shut up). It doesn’t. Instead, it only serves to spur the sorcerer on. Now, Satoru crowds your space, wrapping you into a tight bundle and pulling you so close your nose squishes against his cheek.

He’s entirely scandalized by your rebuttal, gasping in your ear as if you’ve just told him the most offensive insult imaginable. “I can’t believe you’d say that about your dashing boyfriend.” As if to prove his point, Satoru pulls you away only to drag you back in to plant multiple exaggerated pecks against your cheek, a sappy muah sound accompanying each one.

They leave wet lip prints in their wake that you’re too tired to rub away. Eyes still closed, you furrow your brows, accepting your fate as you cuddle into the curve of his throat – right beneath his chin.

“My dashing boyfriend who can’t do anything quietly to save his life.”

“Hey,” he whines into your hair. “I can be quiet!”

“Oh yeah? Then let’s play the quiet game.”

You can feel him hum somewhere deep in his chest as he thinks it over. “What do I get if I win?”

Your limbs feel heavy as you rest your arm across his stomach, curling your hand around the hem of his shirt. You can only muster enough energy to mumble, “Winner gets breakfast in bed tomorrow.”

“Ooo, okay,” Satoru presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Be prepared to make me a huge stack of pancakes tomorrow, baby.”

“Mhm, fine.

“With extra chocolate chips.”

"’kay.”

“And,” A hand ruffles your hair. “A lil extra love, maybe?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Without opening your eyes, you can tell there’s a retort brewing in Satoru’s, and you stop it before it has the chance to fill the air. “Quiet game starts now.”

The room immediately falls into silence, only broken by the soft sound of your combined breathing. Satoru’s warmth and the steady movement of his chest as he breathes — up, down, up, down — bring you right back to sleep’s door, as if Satoru hadn’t woken you up at all. Maybe the quiet game had been the answer this whole time. You kick yourself for not thinking of it sooner.

You nuzzle closer, nose brushing against his collar bone as you feel yourself drift off, but right before you completely fall into the clutches of exhaustion, you hear a tiny voice mumble, “Love you.”

It’s punctuated with another kiss to the crown of your head and a warm palm gliding up and down your back, and you can only bring yourself to tighten your hold on his shirt before you fall asleep.

The next morning, you awake to an empty bed and the sweet smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo imagine #satoru gojo imagine #gojo x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagine

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

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detachment (02/03)

did Aemond Targaryen truly loved you?

pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader

summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.

word count: 7.9k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hello beautiful people, finally here is the chapter you have been waiting for so long, im so happy, I hope you like it a lot❤ thank you very much for reading🥺

comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank u, you are all awesome❣

—TWO MOONS AGO.

"I'm so sorry, my sweet girl."

"No, it's all right, mother. Do not worry."

"I know this is not what you wished for but—

"It is my wish."

You interrupt your mother with a small smile that she instantly knows is neither genuine nor convincing, to which she watches you for a few moments without saying anything, watching you intently.

She takes your hand and places the other on your right cheek to come closer and leave a sweet kiss on your left cheek that you allow to feel that love that only she transmits and comforts you.

She then pulls away from you a little without letting go and watches you with a small smile on her lips and a slight gleam in her beautiful lilac eyes.

"You know you have my full support, my love. And don't even think that I will leave you alone in all this," she assures you, "But I know you and you must not lie to me, Y/N."

You know that at this moment your gaze gives you away, as well as all the true feelings you are conveying but you still want to show your mother that you are willing to do your duty.

And it really is your relief that it is this person you are going to marry when it could have been worse.

"Mother, you must not worry about me."

"But of course I do," she tells you instantly, "You're my daughter and I love you."

"I love you too. But this marriage to Cregan Stark couldn't be better not only for me, but for the whole family," you remind her, "He is a respectful and honorable man. I know there will be much respect between us and eventually affection will be born. And we will have all the support of the North when the time comes for you to become queen."

She smiles softly again with that warmth and affection, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb, looking directly into your eyes with all that sincerity and love.

"But he's not the one you wish to marry, is he?"

So all those pent up feelings, they want to come out at that moment. And even more so because of the way she is talking to you and understands you completely.

"Even with all that your marriage to Cregan Stark offers…. it's not him."

You swallow hard and press your lips together, starting to feel the tears want to come out of your eyes, as well as all that feeling for everything that happened and thinking about everything that could have been.

You remember how a while ago everything was fine, how everything seemed fine, how you thought you knew certain things and knew certain people.

However, he broke your heart.

Worst of all, you never knew why. You really wanted to know what had happened, what had changed his mind and if you had done something wrong, but… nothing.

He left you totally in the dark with his reasons. He preferred you to suffer and forget everything as if nothing had happened from one day to the next to accept his sudden betrothal to Floris Baratheon.

And you truly wanted to understand at the time, feeling completely broken and shattered… but he never gave you an answer.

"It doesn't matter anymore, mother. He is betrothed and now so am I. I do not doubt that after my wedding with lord Stark, his with lady Baratheon will happen soon after. He made his decision moons ago and now so have I."

"Very well," she nods at you, "You learned quickly, my sweet girl. Just as I had to when I accepted my fate."

You smile.

"You mean my father?"

"Our story was in short times, always with a lot of duty involved and inconveniences. Until we could finally be together after that horrible night," she tells you softly, "But when you truly love a person, you can't help it and you just want to join your blood with them, no matter what."

You nod, lowering your gaze, understanding.

But really understanding.

You know that feeling and you know exactly who you used to feel that way with. You were even close to being able to bond forever. But now… you're about to do your duty without that person.

"Then, my sweet girl…" your mother says to you, getting your attention again, "I'll just make sure to arrive at King's Landing a day before the wedding, as you asked. Everything will be ready by the time we get there."

You smile softly in her direction, feeling very relieved at that and nod.

"Thank you, mother."

"Anything for you, my love."

After spending part of your afternoon with your mother, you head to another of the great rooms of the Dragonstone castle, where your brothers are practicing High Valyrian and your younger brothers are being cared for by the maids.

You immediately join in caring for your brothers, listening to Jace and Luke's Valyrian, correcting them on some pronunciations and helping them to formulate words correctly.

Then Rhaena enters the room as well to look after and keep little Joffrey company, letting you know that Baela has flown to Driftmark.

Normally as the night draws in, your mother and father also spend time in this Room, all together as a family, a time when Rhaenyra wishes she could freeze and stay all together like this forever.

And that's exactly what she thinks when she enters the Room and sees all her children, or almost all of them, together attending to different duties, with a little smile and loving look on her face.

Daemon is writing something on the large table, to which she turns to him, stroking her barely noticeable two-moon belly, with a new member to the family coming into the world soon, the prince or princess.

"What are you writing, my love?"

Daemon raises his gaze to her, with the seal of House Targaryen about to embed it in the letter.

"The word to Kings Landing with the news of Y/N's marriage to Lord Stark."

"Ah yes, I forgot to do that."

"And that's why I do it for you, ābrazȳrys."

Rhaenyra leaves a soft and loving kiss on her husband's head to continue on her way to her eldest sons, listening attentively to the High Valyrian, just like Y/N, ready to correct them.

Not long after, considering that the distance between Dragonstone and Kings Landing is not too much, the raven arrives at the Red Keep with the new and unexpected news, with Queen Alicent and her father Otto Hightower reading the message.

The Heir, Princess Rhaenyra returns to King's Landing in less than two moons with her prince consort Prince Daemon and her entire family to celebrate the wedding of Princess Y/N Velaryon to Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

"This is vile and disgusting news."

"Father—

"With Lord Cregan Stark?" inquires Otto, "Do you know what this means, Alicent?"

"It can't be that bad, still Daeron's wedding to Lady Lannister adds soldiers and ships to us for Aegon's claim. So does Aemond's wedding to lady Baratheon."

"Rhaenyra will have the whole North on her side by the time the time comes and you know it. The whole fucking North fighting for her and her bastard daughter!" Otto exclaims in annoyance, "We can't let that wedding happen."

"Rhaenyra must already be getting everything ready at Dragonstone. And to try to stop her the wedding, she could easily marry Y/N to Lord Stark somewhere else," says the queen, "It will be useless."

"Call the Maester. Call the entire Council, immediately," Otto quickly orders one of his guards, annoyed and desperate.

The guard immediately complies with the Hand's order, so that very soon all the members enter and take their respective seats in the Council Chamber.

But not long after, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen also decide to burst into the room, Aemond mostly noticing that something is wrong and Aegon simply following, his grandsire surprised to see him in his five senses.

"What's the matter?" asks Aemond serious, approaching his mother.

But before his own mother can answer him, his grandsire does, only without answering him.

"Your wedding to Lady Baratheon will happen by the end of this month."

Aemond immediately observes his grandsire without any expression, hiding his surprise well, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room.

"We will send word to Storm's End's, Lady Floris should already be here by in less than five days and prepare everything immediately," Otto continues, "Not too soon after, we will send a raven to Oldtown and Prince Daeron's wedding to Lady Cerelle will also happen."

"May I ask, my Lord Hand, why so hurriedly?" asks lord Lannister.

"Yes, why?" inquires Aemond of his grandsire as well, with a tone of voice and a menacingly serious look.

But Otto Hightower deliberately ignores his grandson.

"Are you not pleased with the news, Lord Jason?" he inquires condecently, "After all, it is your daughter who is to marry a prince of the realm, my grandson."

"Not that I am complaining, my Lord, in fact I have been waiting to hear this news ever since we agreed to join our houses. But I was also hoping, just like my daughter, that the wedding would be relevant and not too attached to another wedding also of another prince of the realm. It certainly would not draw the attention of our people."

"This is not about getting people's attention, nor how attractive the union is, Lord Jason," Otto tells him seriously and clearly annoyed, "You should feel grateful that the union is going to happen, because I remind you that this is about Prince Aegon's claim to the Throne, or have you already forgotten?"

"I asked you a question and I'm not going to repeat myself," Aemond speaks again in his grandsire's direction, serious.

This immediately gets everyone's attention, but in the end it is Queen Alicent who responds in a soft, cautious voice.

"Y/N is going to be married."

This immediately gets Aemond's attention and also Aegon behind him, who was disinterested and even annoyed to hear his grandsire's words about his claim to the Iron Throne.

But this definitely gets his attention, he even watches his brother cautiously, waiting for his reaction, just like his mother.

However, Aemond keeps his usual neutral and at the same time serious face, hiding his true emotions very well, starting to feel how those true emotions run through his whole body and want to explode.

Otto watches him attentively, annoyed and serious, instantly knowing very well what he must be feeling. And that is what he, Otto Hightower, does not want.

"Yes, Aemond, with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell," he tells him seriously, "You too have already forgotten why you are marrying Lady Baratheon precisely?"

Aemond clenches his jaw, immediately this getting his attention and watching his grandsire with a deadly and threatening look, all this together with his posture showing that he is losing his patience.

And that everyone notices.

"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him, rising from his seat.

"When?"

Aemond's voice interrupts him, in the direction of his grandsire, his whole posture tense and his hands made into fists, his jaw clenched and his gaze like that of a dragon about to burn everything to the ground.

"I told you, by the end of this month your wedding—

"No, when will Y/N's wedding to Cregan Stark be."

He interrupts her in a firm, menacingly serious voice.

"It doesn't matter when it will be," Otto tells him in annoyance, raising his voice higher, drawing everyone's attention, demanding, "What matters right now is that these two weddings happen before the wedding of Rhaenyra's daughter to Lord Stark so as to invite all the great houses, even Cregan Stark and form alliances before Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon."

"In two moons, approximately."

Alicent replies to Aemond, noting how his anger grows more and more as his grandsire speaks, not giving him an answer.

"That's what they said on the raven they sent this afternoon from Dragonstone."

Aemond lowers his gaze, beginning to think about it, about how the wedding will take place here, at King's Landing, where he will have to be present and witness it all…to Y/N, his Y/N, getting married to Lord Cregan Stark.

Lord Cregan fucking Stark.

"I doubt we can do anything about it, my Lord," Jasper Wylde speaks, "The wedding is already a done deal, we will not succeed in convincing Lord Stark to change his allegiance."

"And this is a great advantage for Princess Rhaenyra and her claim," says Jason Lannister, " Her daughter, Princess Y/N and Lord Stark together is an excellent and convenient match."

At the words of some of the council members, Aemond can't help but feel downright sick, thinking of Y/N and Lord Stark.

As you should.

His own mind tells him, feeling the fire and anger coursing through his veins, unable to control himself, thinking about what is really going on here.

"We will do whatever it takes to still have as much support as possible. King Viserys will not last long and by now we would have to secure all possible alliances for when the time comes. If war falls upon us and if we pull this off… fighting Rhaenyra and her alliances won't be so hard."

"She will have the entire North fighting for her, my Lord."

One of the members tells him cautiously, thinking about the number of soldiers Princess Rhaenyra will have at her disposal, also all the people supporting her claim, that adding up to the whole Valley.

"That's why we need to be more clever," Otto Hightower insists, "My grandchildren's weddings will be paramount in this. We need to send a raven to Oldtown, now," he turns to the Maester, "I need Daeron here at King's Landing and your daughter as well, Lord Jason. After Aemond's wedding, he—

"No."

Aemond Targaryen completely interrupts his grandsire in front of the Queen and the entire Council, drawing everyone's attention, surprised by his boldness and deadly behavior in the direction of his grandsire, who also gives him a threatening look.

"You had plenty of time to plan my wedding with Lord Borros' daughter. It's not my fault that until now you are acting when your job as the Hand is to act since you knew the threats," he tells her seriously and completely firm with his words, "If you want a wedding, plan Daeron's, not mine. I will not be a part of your incompetence when I have already given you too much."

"You are forgetting your place, Aemond," Otto warns him in a careful tone and one in which he fully tells him that he does not want to contradict him now.

But Aemond has had enough.

"You are forgetting your place," he replies in kind.

"Aemond, that's enough," his mother calls to him instantly, letting out a long breath, "You don't want to get married now, that's fine. But don't forget that eventually you will have to," she reminds him earnestly, "After all, Lady Baratheon is still your betrothed and she along with Lord Borros expect the wedding to take place soon."

Again Aemond feels sick to his stomach as he listens to his mother's words, thinking of his betrothed, Lady Floris Baratheon. The very thought of marrying her makes him feel unhappy.

But it is the truth… she is still his betrothed and whether he wishes it or not, he will eventually have to marry her, because his family swore an oath with hers, not him, but his family.

And he has to live up to the weight of that oath.

"We should continue to discuss the marriage of Princess Y/N to Lord Stark, my Queen," says the Maester.

"There is nothing more to discuss, the chances are slim with Lord Stark and we will have to focus on bringing the marriage of my son and Lady Cerelle to the attention of the great houses."

Queen Alicent begins to lead the entire Council, as Otto Hightower continues to watch Aemond with daggers in his eyes, serious, furious and incredulous at his behavior.

He thought he already had everything under control, but Otto forgot that he is not a dragon and the blood of the dragon in anyone who possesses it, especially in Aemond, is chaotic and reckless.

"Congratulations, brother."

Aegon catches Aemond's eye, watching him over his shoulder as he gives him a friendly clap on the back, almost whispering his words.

"You said you hoped our sweet niece would soon outgrow you? Well, now she's marrying the lord of all Winterfell," he says with a small smile, "She's definitely outgrown you."

And with nothing more to say, Aegon leaves the Council Chamber, not interested in the matters of the realm, much less to plan a fucking wedding and have his grandsire take it upon himself to form alliances for his claim to the Throne, as if he cares about such a thing.

As Aemond stands still for a few seconds, watching him go, his words repeating over and over in his mind, anger again coursing through his body, fire, hatred.

He wishes he could prove his brother right, but the truth is that he is very wrong.

Unable to stand it any longer, he quickly heads out of the room as well, not wanting nor caring at all to discuss these matters, this room really displeasing him by bringing back bad memories.

And as soon as he faces the corridors of the Keep, again Aemond remains static for a few moments and his mind again thinking about things he really doesn't want to think about.

But he can't help it.

Like that time he also rushed out of this room, leaving the woman he loves behind, tearing her apart in the worst possible way and pretending not to care.

Even as one of the fiercest and most brutal knights of his time, Prince Aemond doesn't know where he found the courage and strength to break Y/N's heart… his Y/N.

He has always characterized himself as an honorable and respectful man, especially to Y/N, but what he did to her… was out of his nature and highly unpleasant.

And once he was in the safety of his chamber, the first thing he did was sit in one of his chairs near his fireplace, wanting to feel the fire, with the realization slowly starting to become clearer to him, realizing what he had done.

Aemond remembers the last time he cried, it was when he was a little boy in one of his episodes over his lost eye.

A terrible migraine kept him awake for a whole day, he couldn't even get out of bed and couldn't bear to see the light of day. His mother held him tight and was there for him all the time, not even leaving him alone for a second.

Alicent tried and ordered everything to make him feel better, but the Maesters couldn't do much and all he could do, all he learned to do since he was a little boy, was to have to endure the pain.

And since then, the first tear falls down his right cheek.

Aemond, upset, angry and disgusted with himself, cries. And he actually allows himself to cry as he remembers his Y/N's precious face completely shattered and red from her crying, her whole look confused and in need of explanations.

And he couldn't even give her that, an explanation.

And the worst part was that they already had it all. It was all said and done, they were going to be husband and wife finally, as they had asked for so much.

But he finally snatched away her illusion and simply left her without explanations. And that's what makes him lose control completely.

Furious, feeling like a coward, an idiot and annoyed with himself, he lets out a growl and starts breaking everything in his room, with despair and anger in his body.

He screams and blames himself for that weight on his shoulders, a weight that does not belong to him, a weight that he had nothing to do with from the beginning and a weight that he had to let go of the woman he loves when he almost had her because of his family's ambition.

That night the servants had to silently clean the room of Prince Aemond, who, unable to bear it any longer, went for a ride in Vhagar, wanting to forget everything and everyone.

And now, in the present, him in the middle of the hall with the thought of Y/N marrying Lord Stark soon… it's too much.

And he knows it's the same feeling she must have felt when he broke her heart.

He couldn't agree more that he deserves it, but he didn't want to let her go either. Nothing he did was really his choice, but that was the right decision.

And now…he still has to face the consequences of his own actions: Y/N's marriage to a man who will not be him.

"There you have it, my princess."

"Thank you, Emelly," you smile at one of your maids, who leaves you a tray with your almost every night tea so you can fall asleep, "You can rest now."

" You don't need anything else, princess?"

"No, I'm good, thank you. See you in the morrow."

"Of course, princess. Get some rest."

The maid leaves your room, who looking at you in your mirror you continue brushing your straight, silver hair, preparing for sleep.

You've already gone to your siblings' and Rhaena's rooms, especially the little ones', to wish them good night.

Your mother and father have also already come to speak with you and have your usual conversations of the night, where they talk about your wedding to Lord Cregan more than anything else, Daemon and Rhaenyra making sure nothing else haunts your mind.

They know that a wedding can cause too much stress, especially when you're marrying the one you didn't expect from the start, talking about duty and what's expected next from you and your husband.

Your older brother Jace had told you it's a stressful but very necessary conversation, considering the next wedding in the family will be his and Baela's.

You let out a long breath, leave your brush on your dressing table and head off to drink your tea, needing to sleep.

You take the cup from the tray in your hands when the napkin catches your attention. You frown and notice how there is something sticking out from under that napkin, hidden but wanting to be seen specifically by you.

You set the cup down on the table and pick up the napkin, curious and wary, realizing that it is the small envelope of a letter, definitely catching your attention more than before.

You analyze it and there is no indication of who the message might be from. So you decide to open it, finding a small sentence and an addressee that makes your heart jump in your chest and your lips parted.

Meet me at our place by the Hour of the Wolf. I need to explain everything to you, please. I will be waiting.

A.T.

Your pulse starts to race, your whole body starts to shake and you read the message over and over again, your system making you feel more emotions and feelings as you read who has sent this to you.

You think to yourself that this must be a joke or even perhaps some kind of trap, thinking that this can't be. But you know it's him.

It's his handwriting, you would recognize it on any piece of paper, as well as the signature he always uses in all his messages, short and subtle.

Now you understand why so much mystery. But you honestly don't understand how he could have gotten his message to you. It's practically impossible.

Unless he hired or paid irrelevant people, because Emelly is extremely loyal to you and would not have done this considering your history with your uncle, as well as anyone else knows it.

Your uncle who right now must be waiting for you.

Your mind tells you as you look at his message in front of you, surprised with your parted lips, with a feeling starting to invade your chest that you don't know exactly what it is but… it causes you some emotion.

And you can't. You truly can't do this.

You remember everything that happened, what he did to you, what his grandsire did to you too, and how broken you felt, how he broke your heart and left you without explanation, only to become betrothed to Floris Baratheon.

You swallow hard, walking to your huge windows, looking out at the night outside and barely lit by the fire torches that light a little of the roads around Dragonstone, looking out beyond the sea, in the direction where that island is and where you and Aemond used to meet.

You press your lips together, feeling a sharp pain in your chest, as well as that uncertainty and beginning to take into consideration what he has written to you on that little piece of paper.

But again… you can't.

You are both betrothed. You are betrothed to Lord Cregan Stark, you will marry him soon and then… probably he will marry Lady Floris Baratheon as well.

You know you shouldn't even consider it, you know you shouldn't feel that curiosity and longing, because he doesn't deserve it.

That's why you make your decision just as he made his moons ago.

Even though you admit that it hurts and even costs you, you still think of yourself, because he doesn't deserve you to feel this way about him, not after all the damage caused.

You don't know what Aemond really thinks, but it certainly isn't entirely wise to ask you to meet in the hour of the Wolf as if nothing had happened.

And what a coincidence that he does this just when your wedding is in a few more weeks.

You stare out over the sea for a few more moments, thinking, but having already made up your mind. You let out a long breath and without hesitation, you head to your fireplace and throw his message into the fire.

Then you head back to your table to drink your tea and drink it all down so you can finally sleep and forget this ever happened.

While on the small island in Blackwater Bay, Aemond Targaryen keeps Vhagar close by, watching as he sits on a huge rock on the sand of the beach towards the direction of Dragonstone, waiting for you.

He doesn't really find much to entertain himself with, beginning to feel anxious with each passing minute and still not seeing any dragons approaching in the night sky, getting up and pacing back and forth, letting out long breaths and trying to calm himself.

He would be a fool not to have thought that maybe you would ignore him and not even in your greatest madness, the other side of the Targaryen coin, would you agree to meet him after all that happened.

Of course he had thought about it. But he still decided to risk it.

But the minutes pass and pass, with Aemond waiting for you, disappointment and reality coming at him like a strong wave every moment he is still there alone on the island.

He feels frustration beginning to course through his body, also anger but not for you, but for himself.

He thinks of your soon marriage to him, Lord Stark and feels more despair coursing through him, not even bearing the thought.

He asks the Seven to you please show up, really wanting to explain himself.

But he knows it is too late. He was never going to get this chance, because he really hurt you too much and he knows it, he knows it and he has the memory more vivid than ever.

But even though he knew it, he can't help but be disappointed as he continues to wait for a dragon in the night sky that never came.

—PRESENT

The days go by too fast after the conversation with your mother and after so many preparations and requests for the wedding.

When the wedding day finally arrives.

Your mother overlooks her pregnancy, considering she is barely four moons pregnant, to ride Syrax and take her with her to King's Landing while you ride Silverwing so you both arrive in the capital a day before the wedding, as you wished.

You try to suppress all feelings along with the nerves of returning to the Red Keep, where there are many buried memories and people from the past. However, you are here for your wedding.

You know that this visit is brief just to get the wedding over with and nothing more, then your family will return to Dragonstone or probably your mother will decide to stay again to take care of your grandsire, while you will go to Winterfell.

You really want to know the North. It was one of the few conversations you had with Lord Stark and he agreed, as well as both of you being present at Court after spending married moons.

And you really have no intention of anything else happening and just let it happen as it should. And just before the sun sets, you and your mother arrive at King's Landing.

You meet your father, your brothers, sisters, also your grandmother Rhaenys and your grandsire Corlys, even also Queen Alicent welcomes you both back and also gives you her congratulations for your wedding.

If you didn't know her, you wouldn't know that her smile is fake. Clearly Alicent didn't want you to marry her son but neither did she want you to marry a person as influential as Lord Stark. But honestly you don't care.

She is the one who directs you and your mother to the king's chambers, to whom your mother wishes to speak and also in case she wants to dedicate a few words to you for your wedding.

On your way back to your room you meet your aunt, sweet Helaena, who welcomes your mother with a charming look and smile, also you, congratulating you on your wedding.

Fortunately you don't meet any other relevant people, just as you didn't see him or his betrothed anywhere, which you are thankful for.

Because the sooner this could happen, without distractions and unexpected inconveniences, the better.

The only thing you remember about that night when you arrived at King's Landing is that you had to drink a large and considerable amount of your tea in order to sleep, not being able to fall asleep because you were thinking about tomorrow.

And honestly also for thinking a little about him.

You were afraid that he would suddenly enter your chamber through the secret door, because surely he hasn't forgotten his request to meet you on the island to explain everything and you never showed up, but fortunately that didn't happen.

And when you least expect it, you are already at the celebration feast with all the guests present, you looking like a bride, waiting for your betrothed, everything going according to your mother's plan.

The common thing in a wedding is to get married at the Septon and then move on to the feast, but in this case, your mother chose the other way around, just like her wedding to your father, Sr. Laenor.

You learned that Alicent had questioned this, but your mother didn't care much, just reminded her that this was how her wedding had once been and that this way, you would feel less overwhelmed, knowing you perfectly well.

When it all begins.

They have already announced the king, also all your family, only the Hightower-Targaryen and also your betrothed are missing.

Your grandsire is seated at the large table next to his wife on the right side, while your mother is seated on his left side, followed by your place and then your betrothed's place. Your father takes a seat at the head of the table on the left side along with your brothers and sisters.

All the lord's and lady's present are spread throughout the Throne Room, as the food will soon be served and the musicians are already in position to begin at any moment.

Your mother at your side holds your hand to give you her support and her soft, sweet smiles in your direction to help with your nerves. Although she also makes sure that your entire appearance is intact.

It was always Rhaenyra's wish that her daughter, her first daughter, would have a wedding like hers was.

She would also prefer a Valyrian wedding, in fact that was her illusion when the king gave his blessing for the wedding between Y/N and Aemond.

But now, things are different and considering that Lord Stark is not Targaryen, clearly, a Westerosi wedding was the best option. And you did not complain at all.

In fact, it filled you with excitement and affection that when your father and grandfather saw you entering the Room, with your appearance for the occasion, they instantly told you that you wore them many years ago, when they were also in this same place and your mother married your father, Laenor.

A white dress with shoulder-length sleeves draws attention with golden details and some chains adorn around your waist with dragon figures.

Your hair falls in elegant waves, reaching above your waist, with some very subtle braids adorning the top of your head.

Your mother wanted some golden pins to be placed between your hair, also jewelry such as gold necklaces, rings and bracelets, to look more and properly like a Targaryen princess.

When at that moment, they announce the missing people at the big table. The people or rather the person you most expected and never wanted to arrive at the same time.

"Prince Aegon Targaryen, first born son of King Viserys Targaryen with his lady wife, Princess Helaena Targaryen."

The doors directly in front of you allow you to see the entrance of your uncle and sweet aunt who together make their way over to you to take a seat beside Queen Alicent.

Aegon's appearance is appropriate, however, due to all the rumors that keep spreading to Dragonstone, his condition is far from the best for a prince of the realm. His tired face with large bags under his eyes and his clear boredom and disinterest in being here is clear.

However, after all he seems to be willing to drink wine and enjoy himself.

But your sweet aunt by his side completely overshadows him once the view is on her and her beautiful sky blue dress with light silver tones and all her bright and sweet look that characterizes her so much.

When they announce the next people and you try not to make a big deal of it once Aegon and Helaena take their seats.

"Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys and Prince Daeron Targaryen, the third and final son of the king."

So both of them, he, now enter the Throne Room and you avoid looking too much, as well as feeling too much.

You try to distract yourself with the fact that you hadn't seen Daeron in a very long time, nor had anyone else, not even your mother or father. You thought he would still be in Oldtown because he wasn't even here for Helaena and Aegon's wedding.

Maybe he really wanted to fly here, but he was not allowed to, maybe because of his age, knowing that Queen Alicent does not like dragons and is very overprotective in that aspect.

But now that you are looking at him, he is tall, very tall. Not as tall as he is, but for his age, he's definitely growing into a man. But even though you want to focus on Daeron, you don't as you focus on him, inevitably.

His walk hasn't changed, neither has that determination, that confidence and that kind of power he possesses just by looking at him, also that fear and respect at the same time.

And his appearance… hasn't changed either.

Maybe his continuous training has made him look a bit stockier of his arms and his body in general, but his hair, his face and his eye patch is the same.

But he gives you the impression that he's even more handsome.

You look away from him in an instant, as everything that happened comes back to you in a matter of seconds, which is inappropriate. But all you can think about is him.

His hugs, kisses, caresses… all those words of love, all those wishes and all those promises… all only to end in an unexplained broken heart. You swore that he and you were destined to burn together. You swore that you would marry in the tradition of your house.

You swore it would be him and you.

But he made his decision.

And now here you are. He's betrothed and so are you, where by the end of the day you'll be married.

You completely avoid looking at his face once he starts to walk up the steps to take a seat next to his brothers, just like Daeron. You don't feel his gaze at any moment, just as you don't dare to look at him either.

When you ask yourself; where is his betrothed?

She must be here for such celebrations if they are betrothed. And you are sure that Floris Baratheon would not want to miss such an important celebration at the Red Keep.

However, he is all alone and his betrothed seems to be nowhere to be found. Doubt lingers but the feast gives you something new to think about when they announce your betrothed.

"Cregan Stark, lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, the future lord husband of the bride, Y/N Velaryon."

At that moment, everyone at the table rises to greet your betrothed who walks towards you with a kind and respectful smile, looking very well for all this celebration. Or at least most of the people at the table stand up….

You can notice out of the corner of your eye how on Queen Alicent's side some people are still seated, but you don't dare look at them, though you get an idea of who they might be.

Still you focus on your betrothed who bows to the king once he arrives at the table and then makes his way to you to take a seat next to you.

Not before taking your mother's hand to plant a gentle kiss on the back of it, which she accepts with a kind and sweet smile and then turns to you and does the same with more affection.

You smile in his direction as you return his gesture by placing a soft kiss on his cheek and then both of you take a seat, as well as everyone else. When your grandsire, the king, gives a short speech before the feast begins.

And once everything has been said, the feast begins. The music starts and the food is served.

You feel his gaze for a few seconds, not long enough, but you don't notice him at all and continue to enjoy the feast. You talk to your mother from time to time and also to your betrothed, that is if your father and Jace are not talking to him asking him about Winterfell and the Wall.

Your sisters also ask you from time to time if you are feeling well and you can only nod, telling yourself that this is really happening and you have to completely ignore his presence.

When the time comes for the opening of the dance.

Cregan rises from his seat first and offers you his hand to lead you to the center of the Room, which you gladly accept and together you walk to dance in full view of everyone, a traditional Westerosi dance.

It is a simple dance, nothing difficult and you really enjoy it, while you focus your gaze at all times on him, Lord Cregan, who also smiles softly in your direction and does perfectly the right steps, all under the watchful eye of all the nobles present and also of your family.

Both of you stand back to back, and then both of you slowly raise your arms to shoulder height, while you can't help it and turn your gaze towards him, already feeling since the dance started his burning gaze.

Aemond has a meaningful look on his face when your gaze meets his, acting nonchalant, watching you intently, raising his wine glass to his lips.

You can only smile really ungracefully and turn your gaze to the front, continuing to dance and focusing only on your betrothed.

While Aemond at all times… wants this to be over and done with. Though I'd prefer to think this isn't really happening.

He feels like an alluring force, as he can't take his eye off of you, looking at you so beautiful in that dress, knowing in an instant that this is not the dress you would have worn for their wedding. But you still look really beautiful.

A true Targaryen beauty.

A warm feeling envelops him every second he sees you there, so perfect, dancing, smiling and catching everyone's attention, his especially at your every move, not realizing that his face gets softer every second as he watches you.

However… everything is replaced by hatred and anger when those smiles are directed at Lord Stark. And by the way he looks at you too… he wants to burn everything to the ground, clenching his hands into fists.

"Easy, little brother."

Aegon murmurs behind him, over his shoulder, amused, his breath smelling very strongly of wine.

"Everyone can sense how you're starting to wake up. You don't want to cause a fucking scene at our niece's wedding because of your jealousy, do you? Grandsire won't be too pleased."

Aemond can only feel that rage come over him more, knowing full well that Aegon has no intention of calming him down, but to provoke him further and do exactly as he has told him.

And he is succeeding.

Especially in the moment when he again focuses on you, smiling at Lord Stark, glowing and looking this beautiful but for him, Lord Stark, not for him, the one she was supposed to marry and be completely his.

And he regrets it so much, he regrets it so much that he called off their wedding and also leaving you without explanation, knowing that this is exactly what he deserves, to see you happy without him.

As the dance of just the two of them ends and a new song begins, in which he watches as Y/N, his Y/N, places one of her hands on Lord Stark's shoulder and the other intertwines with his, his other hand on her waist, this only making him angrier.

A more choreographed dance begins and the nobles in pairs also begin to join the center of the Room to dance, beginning the real celebration.

And Aemond sinking in his own misery, thinks that he could have survived watching Y/N dance with Lord Stark at an appropriate distance. But now they are both chest to chest, smiling and talking about something with all the nobles also dancing around them.

He doesn't understand that important thing that the two of them are talking about, but he doesn't like it at all, neither does the closeness. In fact he doesn't like any of it.

All he wants is to get her away from him, away from all of this and make her his, finally, no matter what.

His breathing starts to get heavier by the moment, thinking that by the time this is over, she will already be married to him and they will go away together, where they will have to consummate the marriage.

The very thought makes him only feel more enraged and more courageous to snatch her from his arms, not caring about her family and his, not caring about his grandsire and his words, not caring about his mother's words either about "you have to control yourself and think of us."

Not only does Aegon notice her state, so does his grandsire, who watches him intently and cautiously, noticing the look on Lord Stark's face more than menacing, about to do something foolish even though he was very clear with him before attending this feast.

He also catches the eye of Rhaenyra, who watches her husband and subtly points to her half-brother, instantly Daemon knowing exactly what is going on.

And how could he not know?

It reminds him of him many years ago, also watching the woman he loves, about to marry someone else who is not him.

He places a small half smile, bringing his wine glass to his lips, watching his nephew attentively and amused, almost expectantly, wondering even though Aemond has his full attention on you, if he will finally do something about it or what.

"Aemond," his grandsire mumbles to him.

But Aemond, beginning to go into his madness, doesn't watch or listen to him, watching you intently.

"Aemond, I'm warning you," his grandsire insists.

"Oh come on grandsire," Aegon tells him amused, "You know it will be useless. I can tell you don't know him."

And even though Aemond is immersed in his madness, he still thinks and remembers the words of his grandsire and mother.

"I will overlook that it was you who prevented the raven to Storms Ends from arriving when you knew perfectly well that your betrothed should have been here days ago."

His mother tells him seriously and annoyed.

"Now you will attend this wedding alone and I expect you to behave yourself. Just as I expect you to come to terms with the idea that you will marry Lady Baratheon by the end of next month, without protest."

"And you are not going to commit any of your foolishness at the Y/N wedding, do you understand me?" Otto immediately threatens him, "You're not going to talk to Y/N, you're not going to threaten Lord Stark either, and you're going to let the wedding happen in peace, is that clear? "

Aemond feels a bitter feeling, continuing to watch you attentively and him watching threateningly, with the fire in his body about to explode.

"You know what your problem is, grandsire?" Aegon says to Otto Hightower, who watches him seriously and on the verge of losing his patience, "You question the blood of the dragon too much."

And in that same instant, Aemond rises from his seat in a confident movement, with his gaze firmly fixed on you, who are completely disinterested in what is happening with him, completely focused on Lord Stark.

And Aemond's movement completely catches the attention of his grandsire, his mother, also your mother and father, who in an instant look at each other, definitely remembering the past.

Aemond makes his way towards you, not caring about anything.

He doesn't care about his mother and grandsire, he doesn't care about the war that will probably befall them when his father dies, the only thing he cares about at this moment is you.

taglist:

@iloveallmyboys @libdarkheart @angelianlearp @happinessinthebeing @targaryenmoony @tempt-ress @callsign-blue @twobluejeans @luna-salem @literatureluster @thekinslayersswordhand @queenofshinigamis @bugshideaway @minttea07 @itszzmoon

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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mydearestbeloved · 1 month ago

Text

#0.2 [Chapter]

CW: Implied Yandere, Angst

⚠️SPOILER ALERT to my "Trial Player"-AU (Imagine 1#).

Note:

I have too many ideas but too little time, so I'll just post them as drafts here until I have the time to edit them thoroughly.

_____

Draft I:

As you sat alone in a rare moment of peace, your thoughts wandered, weighed down by the inevitable future. You watched Jinwoo across the room, his back turned as he spoke quietly with a few of his shadows, too preoccupied to notice the turmoil churning inside you. You wondered if he could sense it—the quiet resignation you’d tried so hard to bury beneath the surface.

For a long time, you had wondered which of the tropes would define Sung Jinwoo. The question had plagued your mind ever since you were brought into this world, even before you officially met him. Back then, you had always believed he was the type to sacrifice himself for the world. After all, in the original story, he had gone back in time, facing the Monarchs alone. He shouldered the burden, unflinching, and in doing so, sealed his fate. It was the path of a man who believed no one else could bear the weight of the world.

And you? You always saw yourself as someone who would burn the world for the ones you loved. Before getting isekai’d, that had been your mindset—I’ll burn the world for you. If you had someone like Jinwoo, someone precious, you’d scorch the earth before letting them be taken.

But now, everything had changed. You weren’t just a bystander. You were a part of his story, no matter how much you had tried not to meddle. You were in too deep, and every day you spent by his side made it harder to imagine a future where you weren’t there. But you knew what was coming. Jinwoo’s path would lead him to turn back time, and when that happened—when he used the Cup of Reincarnation to stop the Monarchs—you would be erased.

The system’s melancholic silence when you’d asked it about your fate had only confirmed your worst fears. There was no need for a trial player when the world was safe from the Monarchs. You would disappear from this reality, perhaps return to your own. Or maybe you would simply cease to exist.

You had already accepted it, in a way. If Jinwoo chose the world over himself, then I would choose to sacrifice myself for him. You would give him the chance to live in the world he chose to protect. You would disappear quietly, like a glitch in the system, repaired and erased without a trace.

But he must never know.

If Jinwoo knew... if he found out what you planned to do, it could change everything. You weren’t blind to how it might affect him. He had changed from the man you once read about. This Jinwoo was not the same as the one in the original story. He was growing more possessive, more attached to you. It was subtle at first—the way he watched you avoid the spotlight, how he seemed to enjoy it when you recoiled from fame—but now, it was undeniable. He wanted you by his side, always. His actions, his words, even his touch—everything told you that he wouldn’t let you go easily.

And if he knew your fate? If he discovered that by turning back time and saving the world, he would lose you... What would he do?

Your heart clenched at the thought. He might choose you over the world. He might become the man who would burn everything to keep you by his side. And that scared you more than anything.

Jinwoo was always kind. That was a fact you couldn’t deny. Even with his immense power, even with his ruthlessness on the battlefield, there was a kindness in him that remained untouched. You didn’t want to take that from him. You didn’t want to become the reason he veered off his path, the reason he sacrificed the world for something as selfish as... a love for the you who weren't meant to be.

So, he must not know.

You would carry the weight of your secret, and when the time came, you would disappear. You would become nothing more than a fading memory, like a glitch once fixed, leaving no trace behind.

You looked at Jinwoo again, your heart heavy with the knowledge that you were running out of time. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, his expression softened, as if sensing the depth of your thoughts. He crossed the room, sitting beside you with a quiet, almost casual presence that belied the intensity of his emotions. His hand brushed yours, and you felt the familiar warmth of his touch.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he said softly, his voice low and comforting.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the storm inside you. “Maybe.”

Jinwoo didn’t press further, but his eyes lingered on your face, searching. He always knew when something was off, but for now, he seemed willing to let it slide. You leaned into his side, resting your head against his shoulder, wondering how long you had left before everything changed.

Because no matter how much you tried to keep your cards close, the end was inevitable. And when it came... you would disappear, leaving Jinwoo to walk the path alone once again.

_____

Draft II:

You stared out the window, your thoughts swirling in a labyrinth of uncertainty. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of life outside, but inside, your mind was far too loud. The weight of everything—your existence here, Jinwoo’s fate, the inevitable outcome of this world—all pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. You thought about Jinwoo, about his burdens, his strength, and the path he was destined to walk.

He must not know.

That thought repeated itself like a mantra in your head. If Jinwoo knew what you were willing to do, if he knew you were planning to sacrifice yourself for him, everything could change. And that change could unravel the story you knew—the story you had come to love, the one you were never meant to alter.

In the original story, Jinwoo was the kind of man who would sacrifice himself for the world, or for his loved ones. You had always admired that about him—the quiet strength, the resolve to protect even if it meant carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But now, as you sat here in his world, things had shifted. You were in too deep. And if things continued down this path, it would be you who would disappear once Jinwoo reversed time to stop the Monarchs.

You had asked the system once, in private, what would happen to you after Jinwoo used the Cup of Reincarnation. Its silence had told you everything. You would cease to exist. You wouldn’t be needed anymore because the trial—the system—would be over. You would either return to your world or vanish entirely, leaving no trace. And Jinwoo... Jinwoo would never remember you. Once the timeline reset, his memories of you would be erased, as though you were nothing more than a glitch.

Perhaps that was for the best.

You didn’t mind sacrificing yourself for him. If you disappeared, at least you would know you had done something meaningful. Jinwoo would live on, and he wouldn’t be burdened by your memory. He would believe, as always, that he had faced it all alone.

But the thought of how your disappearance might affect him—it gnawed at you. Jinwoo had already lost so much. What would he feel if he knew you were gone, even if he couldn’t remember why? How would it change him if he somehow, deep down, sensed the absence of something—someone—important?

Where you 'important' enough?

“You’re thinking too much again,” came Jinwoo’s voice, low and smooth, as if he had been reading your mind. He was suddenly beside you, his presence steady and overwhelming, as it always was.

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts, and turned to face him. He looked at you with those deep, intense eyes that seemed to see right through you, his gaze unwavering as if he could sense your inner turmoil. He stepped closer, his thumb brushed your cheek, his touch grounding you. “You’re always overthinking.”

You laughed softly, a sound tinged with both amusement and sadness. “I can’t help it. It’s in my nature.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let me help you. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

The irony of his words wasn’t lost on you. He, who had always been alone, who had carried the weight of the world by himself, was now offering to share your burden. It was almost poetic.

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine, Jinwoo.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You’ve been distant lately.” His thumb continue to brush against your skin, sending a wave of warmth through you. “What are you thinking about?”

You. That was the truth, wasn’t it? You were always thinking about him, about the burden he carried, and what it meant for both of you. But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t tell him you were planning to disappear, or that you were ready to sacrifice yourself for him. He’d never let you.

So instead, you asked, “What would you sacrifice for the world, Jinwoo? Or for someone you care about?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to understand where the question was coming from. He was silent for a moment, considering his answer. “I’d sacrifice myself if it meant saving the people I love,” he said finally. “I’d protect them at any cost.”

Of course he would. That was the Jinwoo you knew. The Jinwoo the world knew.

Please, never change.

But what about you? Would he ever put you in that equation, or were you just another person in the background—someone to protect from afar, someone he couldn’t afford to get too close to?

“What about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jinwoo’s gaze darkened, and for a moment, you saw something flash in his eyes. Something possessive. Something that made your heart race. He stepped even closer, his hand now cradling your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“I’d burn the world for you,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you know that by now?”

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his words. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his voice. He meant it. He would destroy everything if it meant keeping you by his side. And that terrified you.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You had always thought Jinwoo was the kind of person who would sacrifice himself for the world, and maybe he still was—but when it came to you, something had changed. His focus had shifted. You weren’t just someone he protected. You were his. And he wasn’t going to let you go.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you said, “You can’t—”

“I can,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And I will.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and something else—something you didn’t want to name. “Jinwoo...”

He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You’re mine, (Name). And I won’t let you go. Not for the world, not for anyone. I’ll keep you by my side, no matter what.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. You had always known he was possessive, but this... this was something else. It was dangerous, all-consuming. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you wanted to resist it anymore.

But even so, you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t tell him about the future you knew, about the Cup of Reincarnation, about your eventual disappearance. Because if you did, you knew he would do everything in his power to stop it—even if it meant burning the world to the ground.

So, instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth envelop you, even as your heart ached with the knowledge of what was to come.

“I won’t let you face it alone,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

And for now, that was enough.

End Note:

It's popular to say, get yourself a partner who'll burn the world for you.

I still love that trope the most, but I also want to try new flavors without forgetting the others I've tasted. So, I improvised, and this is how my "Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader"-fanfic Imagine came to be.

In a nutshell: Jinwoo is intense, but (Name) is also intense in her own way~

#Rough Draft #solo leveling #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #yandere sung jinwoo #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #fanfiction #fanfic #solo leveling fanfic

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thatrandomidiot182 · 3 months ago

Text

Pt. 2! This might be a bit vague and confusing so I might come back and edit it, but my internet is being super spotty and slow but I hate cliffhangers!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Continuing on with Velaryon! Reader who...

Has spent her whole life preparing for a succession everyone told her she'd have, (Queen/Lady).

Everyone told her that Driftmark was her birthright, that she'd be one to ascend the Driftwood throne and rule. That, unless she willingly gave up the title, it was assured hers.

They said if she did choose otherwise, an even greater title would surely be hers. After all, no other girl has proven themselves quite as capable, or deserving, of being the future queen as she.

It was guaranteed she'd be titled sooner or later.

It was fate, that she'd be a gracious, caring, benevolent ruler at some point.

It was supposed to be her.

Yet, in one thirty-minute meeting, all of that was taken away from her.

Her birthright, her inheritance, her future, her throne, gone.

All instead given to a bastard.

A bastard, who has no knowledge of ships, or the sea, or anything about politics.

A boy, of fire and blood.

Whereas she, pure salt and sea, has been groomed for it her entire life.

Readers so furious. Like, body numbing, ear ringing, jaw clenching, blood drawing furious.

For once, she agrees with Vaemond.

The king had no right to declare the heir of Driftmark.

Alas, she's far more in control of her emotions than her uncle.

Aemond is just as angry as her. Lucerys took his eye, and now takes his wifes birthright away from her! That just won't do...

Aemond is the only one who knows how much Reader has sacrificed and gave to make herself worthy. How much she's suffered and endured just to gain her parents' approval. All the dreams she's pushed aside, opportunities she's lost, blood she's shed. He's been right next to her all throughout her journey, so of course, he's the only one who ever truly understands her. (Man is rlly delulu but it's kinda.... 😍)

He also sees this as an opportunity. Now that she's lost everything, she's more likely to go along with his plans, seeing as she does not have many other options.

Jace is flabbergasted. Appalled, disgusted, and terrified. Does this mean he can't marry Reader? Why couldn't Rhaenys just announce their engagement instead? It would've made sense. Everyone knows she was going to marry him eventually, so where did Baela come from? Was his mother keeping something from him? Was this Daemons doing!?

Yeah, he's taken so off guard, but he's also wary of Readers' next actions. He knows of her ambition, and he knows how far she's willing to go for it (no he doesn't) and he knows she already dislikes Luke bc of Aemond. He's really conflicted.

Rhaenys has had enough of Readers' indecisiveness and decides to make the choice for her. In her mind, the worst case scenario, is that Reader was going to choose Jace, and they end up marrying the boy to two women.

Best case scenario is that Viserys accepts Rhaena and Baela as 'the great unification' instead and allows Reader to marry anyone she wants. Anyone besides Aemond.

(Bad parenting on her part)

Reader is pissed, sad, and panicking, so what does she do?

She goes to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra, who has always pursued her heart over anything else.

Rhaenyra, who has consistently pushed aside duty and perception for love.

Rhaenyra, who is her last shot at securing the iron throne.

Reader approaches Rhaenyra in private and breaks down. She begs Rhaenyra to wed her to Jace alongside Baela.

She loves Jace! She's always loved him, but never had the opportunity to inform anyone of her feelings (which is true tbf). She's fine being a second wife as long as she gets to spend the rest of her life with him.

She really sells it. Kneeling, tears, snot, the whole nine yards.

Rhaenyra believes it. She has seen how much her son cares for Reader and mourns the future that could have been. However, she's hesitant to go against Rhaenys. She trusted the older woman to help her and her sons, and she did. So she must have had a good reason not to announce Reader and Jace rather than Baela and Jace.

"I am afraid it is not my decision to make."

"You will be queen one day, if you speak it, my parents will have no choice but to heed your wishes."

Rhaenyra is torn, but in the end, she prioritizes her children above anything.

"I will ask your mother to reconsider once the dust has settled, whatever choice she makes will be final."

"If you do not command it, she will never reconsider! The longer we wait, the more people will know and if that happens, it'll never be accepted!"

"I am truly sorry."

Oooooh now Rhaenyra is on Readers shit list.

So, Reader feels backed into a corner. She's hurt, angry, embarrassed, and ashamed. She feels as if she's lost everything, all within the span of a few hours.

Then, Aemond visits her. He comes to her with open arms and sweet words. He kneels before her and proclaims his love and devotion and his desire to make her Queen.

Reader is so angry at Rhaenyra and her parents that she allows herself to believe his honeyed words and sweet smile. She loves him as much as she loves Jace, so it's not a total loss. Besides, Aemond has proven himself willing to do anything for her.

She announces their engagement that night at the dinner table.

Viserys is stoked. Three engagements in a day!!

Otto and Alicent are also happy. Otto just thinks this has been a long time coming, and Alicent is relieved to finally have Aemond off of her plate. (These two have no idea what's coming 💀)

Rhaenyra is flabbergasted. Literally, like an hour before, Reader was begging to marry her son, and now this???

Jace is utterly heartbroken. He understands that realistically, it was inevitable, considering he was now betrothed to another, but the pain was the same nonetheless.

Rhaenys is pissed. She did all this to avoid Reader marrying Aemond, and she turns around and does it anyway!?! She can't speak up though because it makes her appear weak and not in control, and she'd never willingly show that to anyone, much less with Daemon present.

Luke is terrified, his two worst enemies are now engaged!?

Helaena is so excited to have Reader as a sister in law!! Her dreams have shown her great things about this marriage. She makes sure to include Reader in her toast as well lol.

Aegon finds it hilarious. The two dragonless Targaryen's getting married, ha! (He'll regret laughing later lol)

Daemon is unnerved. He's probably the only one who sees the marriage as what it actually is. A power move. One unseen by anyone but him. Though he'd never admit it, he was sure he could handle Aemond or Reader alone, but together? Together, they might just be unstoppable...

That night was the last time Reader danced with Jace before the war.

Aemonds toast was unexpected, but Reader felt it was justified and even broke Baelas nose when her niece got up to help Luke and Jace.

Jace was astonished.

Aemond had a sexual awakening lmaoo.

The night King Viserys dies, a shadow flies above kings landing, quickly followed by a terrible storm.

The next day, during the search for Aegon, Reader approaches Otto, and offers a backup plan.

She knows that all he truly wants is a puppet, that he has no care about 'rightful' heirs, which is why they chose to be so insistent on Aegon being crowned.

She also knows how much Aegon despises the thought of ruling.

They both know that Aemond would do anything for the crown.

But only she knows that he'd do anything for her.

So she proposes a deal. Should Aegon falter, it would be best to replace him with Aemond.

A war is inevitable, and they both know that, despite his temper, Aemond would be far more likely to win against Rhaenyra and Daemon than Aegon has any hope of.

Aemond is also as loyal as a hound to his beloved, and if Otto agrees to crown him, Reader would ensure that Aemond heeds his grandfathers every wish for as long as he lives...

Otto hesitates. He has come to see the kind of woman Reader is and has no reason to believe that she would lie. He agrees with everything she says, as it is all the truth. He also sees her as another pawn he could utilize as he believes she respects him and listens to him well. (🤡)

He accepts her proposal but insists that Aegon be King for as long as rationally possible. After all, it was Viserys' dying wish to crown him so it wouldn't look great to immediately replace him. He also reminds Reader of Alicents loyalty to Viserys and his wishes.

Reader isn't very happy with the deal, but accepts it nonetheless. She's waited this long right?

In the meantime, she swears loyalty to the greens.

Aemond is surprised to hear of this deal, but is elated at how much easier this would make their succession. He's so impressed and in awe of Reader!!

Rhaenys and Erryk attempt to take Reader with them to Dragonstone, but she vehemently refuses.

"You have humiliated me countless times. Ruined my childhood and painted false images of honor and glory in my head only to whisk it all away without a second thought!! Now, you ridicule me for choosing the only person who has ever truly loved me? Scorn and curse me for not bowing down to the mutts who took MY birthright from me!?! You speak of honor and oaths... You are nothing more than a hypocrite."

Rhaenys is gutted. She finally sees how big she fucked up. Still, it's not like she can do much so she leaves without her, swearing to come back for her once she 'sees the truth.'

Thus, Aegon is crowned king, and the Reader chases Rhaenys out of kings landing on the back of a huge black dragon.

Ideally, and in my head, its Balerion. The parallels of Vhaegar and Balerion being the previous dragons of Visenya and The Conquerer and now Aemond and Reader are too compelling!! If you prefer to be a bit more canon compliant, I also can see her claiming a son of Vhaegar and Balerion, hatched during the conquest and hidden away. Maybe Vhaegar leads him to Reader cuz she feels a war is coming.

The smallfolk see it as a sign. Since they love Reader so much, they view her obtaining a dragon in such a time as a promise that she is destined for greatness. In the light of the battle for succession, word flits about the people of kings landing that perhaps it is time for a change. Perhaps Reader and her Husband should sit the Iron Throne. After all, they ride dragons from the days of the conqueror, and have shown much more care and compassion for the true good of the realm than either Aegon or Rhaenyra.

Corlys and Rhaenys mourn the relationship they ruined with their only daughter. Corlys' only requirement to swear to Rhaenyra is that his daughter be spared, no matter what happens. Rhaenys and Jace back him up. Rhaenyra agrees. (They're all delulu and believe Aemond has bewitched her or manipulated her in some way)

Reader uses the time between Aegons coronation and Lucerys' death to bond and train with her dragon. While Aemond was sent to deal with Lord Borros, offering gold and slaves, Reader flew to Driftmark and rallied a good portion of sailors and soldiers. She has a good reputation amongst the people of her home, and many of them refused to live under and serve Lucerys when she was their one true ruler.

When Aemond returns to kings landing with the news of Luke's death, Reader is disappointed and vexed.

She wasn't mad that he killed Lucerys, but because he did so at the worst time. Otto was bound to see this major fuckup and completely reconsider their deal.

Aemond is so upset bc he disappointed her.

Jace is now resolved to 'save' Reader from Aemond, if he killed Luke what's stopping him from killing her??

Reader now has to work to save Aemonds reputation. Not only is he 'deformed' but now he's a kinslayer! Any claim he has to the throne is dwindling the more he acts.

She also has to figure out how to deal with Alicent.

And find a way to get Helaena and her children out of the keep before all hell breaks loose.

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Okay, officially, the end of season 1! Season 2 might take me a bit longer to write because there's a lot more to figure out. Also, I like how this was originally supposed to be a vague outline and just fleshed into a whole rant, lol. I'm kind of forcing myself to finish this format bc I really want to write more in depth one-shots showing some scenes but I can't until I finish posting these.

Idk what to call these. It's not a full fic, it's not really headcanons either...

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extremely-judgemental · 4 months ago

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Can we talk about Tamlin again? His story is infinitely sad.

During his younger years, he hides his true nature for the fear of his father and brothers. He has no interest in being a High Lord and is completely satisfied working with his brothers-in-arms and protecting his court. Ultimately his powers come through and he's hated by his brothers. He obeys every command from his father so that he isn't assumed to be a rebel and ends up betraying his mentor. Since then he lives in fear of Rhysand and resists him little whenever insulted because of his guilt.

With his father's murder he becomes the one thing he didn't want to be. He has to leave the life he loved to become someone his people need. Despite the lack of proper training with the court matters, he accepts the one job he always hated.

He offers home to Lucien making an enemy out of Autumn, his neighbouring court which no one would do for a complete stranger who isn't much of a benefit to his court in any way. Lucien becomes his only friend, confidant and family.

I think no one talks about this part as much as they should. When Amarantha establishes her rule, he's the only High Lord allowed to walk out freely. She gives him fifty years to break the curse. Not only is his court condemned all the same, he can't blame failing to save Prythian on his imprisonment like the other HLs could. Knowing Tamlin is warrior at heart, it's heartbreaking that he has to willingly send his 'brothers' to their death. What isn't addressed (enough or at all) is the resentment others UtM or in Prythian develop towards him for not undoing the curse already or trying enough when he stopped sending his sentries out to die. Every time Amarantha does anything remotely cruel, Tamlin would be blamed too for turning his back on entire fae population. Somehow this is glossed over as if fifty years of captivity wouldn't affect the way others see Tamlin.

He finally finds someone who loves him and could potentially break the curse. He ensures her family is taken care of when he didn't have to, long before they fall in love with each other. But he sends her away for her safety damning himself to more blame and hatred. He accepts his fate as Amarantha's toy when the woman he loves returns only to be treated like a circus animal and tortured and abused. He watches as the entirety of fae population bets against her life, watch Feyre almost get killed twice and truly killed once.

Once they are free, he has to build his court back up and also protect Feyre and his people. Even after all those years, he doesn't trust himself qualified to be a HL and takes advice from anyone including Ianthe who manipulates and betrays him, who he believed to be his friend.

We know how it goes from here. Feyre leaves with the one who abused her UtM. Rhysand gloats whenever he can. Tamlin makes a deal with someone crueler than Amarantha. He believes Feyre finally is safe from Rhysand only to realise she's played him. He loses Lucien. He loses the trust of the very people he cared about so much. He cares about the realm enough to spy for the other courts though no one believes him or even likes him. He helps Feyre and her sister. He helps bring the one man he hates so much back to life for her sake. Even after everything his court still suffers from what Feyre and the war did. For a soldier to watch his land wither away, it must be one of the worst nightmares.

There's one scene that always gets me. The one in ACOMAF where Tamlin is with his sentries, talking and laughing with his people during some gathering. That was supposed to be his life, he almost had it if he had the chance to heal. But all of it was stripped away because he loved Feyre and tried over and over again to protect her, blindly sacrificing everything for her. Then I remember Tamlin in his manor, empty and in ruins, with no one around.

To come to think of it, he has received hate almost all his life. Sometimes, rightfully so. But mostly for none of his fault. Maybe he deserves a break after all.

#tamlin #not anti/critical feyre post #sjm should just kill him already if she's gonna make it worse for him #making him a villain is a cheap shot to make Rhys look a hero #acotar critical #sjm critical #surface level thinking #can't read between lines

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ayyy-pee · 1 year ago

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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onlyjaeyun · 1 year ago

Text

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟐𝟕

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖𝐤 (𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲)

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

⤲ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧...

Heessung isn't really sure why he thought it'd be a good idea to show up at your door at midnight on a random wednesday, you haven't been replying to any of his messages or returning to calls after all.

But after Jaeyun's – partly hurtful but true words, he knows this is the right thing to do.

He cares about you and he wants to make sure you know it, not because he's telling you but because because he's actively showing you.

As cliché as it may sound, Heeseung wants his actions to speak instead of his words and after hiding a rather important fact about his "best friend" from you, he knows he has to take advantage of every moment Sunghoon isn't by your side.

The past four days your brother has been trying his very best to take care of you, forcing you to do the basic hygiene part, whereas he took over the other stuff such as cleaning your apartment and bringing you home cooked meals Jongseong had sent to you.

Only after you promised to call him whenever you're eating, has he decided to give you some space, knowing you'd stay true to your words.

It's only been about two hours since Sunghoon had come home after staying at your place most week and as soon as Heeseung saw his best friend firmly asleep on the couch, he knew had to take the chance and leave.

Leave to see you, leave to finally hear more than "she told me", leave to find and pull you into his arms, breathe you in and apologize, explain himself to you and beg for your forgiveness.

There's so much he wants to do and say but he knows he has to be careful with his words. From what Sunghoon's been telling him, you haven't been talking much, one word answers and two word questions the only thing to leave your lips, mostly to make sure your brother doesn't go into cardiac arrest.

Heeseung's been too scared to talk to Jungwon about you, even though he's aware you two have been in contact since your brother had almost started crying when he talked about how proud he felt when he saw you listening to your best friend's voice mails.

Knowing he's broken your heart as bad as this has been destroying him in the worst way possible, yet he never once blamed anyone but himself, as usual.

However, this time he's decided to actually do something about it instead of just accepting his fate.

Heeseung has never been as serious about someone as he is with you and that's why he won't go down without a fight the way he usually does.

And maybe because he's still hopeful of a future with you, something he used to be too scared to even imagine, but actually had gotten a taste of and fell in love with just a few days ago.

Only by the time he arrives at the front door of your apartment, does Heeseung realise you'll probably see him through your security camera and deny him entrance, something he hasn't quite thought of when he rushed out of his own home to get to you.

But as soon as he decides to accept his defeat of the day, a gentle buzzing noise makes it way through his loud thoughts and with a gasp he pushes the door open, doesn't even bother waiting for the elevator.

And for a moment you wonder why you had decided to actually open the door for him, when your own brother had to beg for the same exact thing.

Maybe it's a moment of weakness and you don't actually want to see him and maybe it's the urge to hear him out, too lost in and broken from all those horrible thoughts that have been clouding your brain for the past four days.

You've barely stopped crying ever since your conversation about his best friend and functioning like an average human being has definitely never been this difficult.

So why would you actually give him the chance to say all these things to your face?

What's the point in looking at him while getting your heart broken? Does it make it any less painful, more real?

You actually have no idea, yet feel your breath hitching at the sudden sight of Lee Heeseung.

Dressed in a pair of dark sweats, a thick hoodie and an even bigger puffer jacket, his hair messily falling into his eyes because of the beanie on his head and at the sight of his glossy bambi eyes, you somehow feel your heart healing just the tiniest bit.

You've missed him.

The sound of his voice, his touch, his kisses and his scent, just him.

After finally getting a taste of being so close to him, you've stopped denying just how much your body's been craving him and his presence rather quickly.

You've never hated him for the things he's done and said and you probably won't ever feel resentment for him, yet he's always managed to break your heart into thousands of pieces to the point where breathing felt like an actual challenge.

As your eyes roam his tired face, you let out a shaky sigh when you notice the darkness under his eyes and exhaustion lingering in the sweet brown around his slightly dilated pupil.

Just as usual a beat of silence follows his sudden presence and gives you enough time to take in the sight you've missed so much, yearning to be in his arms and finally feel the ache in your heart slowly but surely fade away.

You know he's always going to be the only one to have this effect on you, even if he happens to be the reason for the pain in the first place.

"Can I – Can you please hear me out? All I need is five minutes and then I'll leave, I promise." Heeseung's voice is strained and raspy, slightly hoarse and for a moment you wonder if he's been just as effected by everything as you.

"Come in", you reply calmly and look at him with tired eyes, destroying his heart with a chainsaw in the process as he notices how physically and emotionally exhausted you look.

With a soft sigh you step to the side and watch the way he takes his shoes off before he walks into the hallway of your apartment.

You notice his lack of gloves, his pale hands red from the cold and the urge to take them in yours and warm him up is definitely harder to suppress than you thought.

"Do you want me to make you some tea? A hot water bottle? Need a blanket?"

You don't look at him as the words leave your lips because for some reason you feel embarrassed about the fact he's the first person besides your brother and best friend who you've said this many words to within the past few days.

And as soon as you lift your head and actually meet his eyes, he seems surprised, just as you'd expected, maybe even a little confused.

Every time you've talked to Heeseung ever since Jake's birthday, you've noticed this certain expression of uncertainty and surprise in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe you were actually as interested in him as you claimed to be.

"I – no, thank you", he stammers and takes his jacket off, revealing his pretty neck to your hungry eyes and you hate how you seem so shameless when it comes to him.

"I'm listening."

Your sudden reply doesn't sound like one, but definitely is a demand.

Heeseung can tell how tense you are from the way you've balled both hands into fists as they're neatly placed on your thighs and the way you've been chewing the inside of your cheek for the past few minutes.

"I hate Bae Sumin", he begins and looks away as her name leaves his lips because he knows he can't bear your reaction to hearing it and from the way your eyes start burning with tears, you're glad he knows you as well as he does.

"She's the biggest mistake and only regret in my life", a deep sigh follows his words before he pulls his beanie off of his head and reveals the rest of his messy hair to you, "and she's been blackmailing me into a friendship with her ever since the day we met."

Now that new piece of information leaves you speechless.

You can't help but look at him with raised brows and parted lips, actual shock grazing your features and as soon as Heeseung catches a glimp of your expression, he can't help but pull his bottom lip between his teeth.

He hates himself for being so attracted to you to the point where everything you say or do is driving himninto insanity. Evennin the most inappropriate moments.

"Care to uhm – elaborate?"

Heeseung nods and starts fumbling with the rings on his fingers, quickly pulling your attention to the one you know your brother had gotten him on his 18th birthday and the one he hasn't taken off ever since.

"Right after the party, Hoonie and I both started our jobs at the company and neither one of us actually knew who Sumin was because she's only recently started being part of her family's public image", he explains and you nod, attentively listening to him and trying your best not to focus on the way his lips move.

"She applied for the manager job of the basketball team and that's how we ran into each other again. Sunghoon never liked her and none of the boys were fond of her, either", the sound of another deep exhale fills the space of your living room, "long story short, about a month into the semester she told me about how her uncle, who just so happens to be Hoonie's boss, asked her if she knew the new intern and what she thinks of him."

"Oh, my God", you whisper when the realisation hits you. Yet again, life had decided to test Heeseung with the loyalty towards his best friend and with big eyes you look at him.

"Ever since that day she asked me to spend time with her and whenever you said no one too many times, she went 'it'd be such a bummer if your precious Sunghoon lost the internship he worked so hard for' and that's why I'm stuck with her."

All of a sudden everything makes sense.

Everything he's done and said, just to protect your brother's future career and current situation. Neither one of them ever fails to surprise you with their selflessness whenever it comes to each other and as your brain processes his words, you can't help but tear up again.

It's not like you minded Sumin's prrsence in his life, you never cared enough in the first place.

"Why did you hide it from me?"

You don't give your brain enough time to intervene as you voice the question lingering in your broken heart, a thick veil of tears blurring your sight almost instantly.

"I thought it was the right thing", Heeseung whispers and you hate how his voice breaks at the end of his sentence, since it genuinely worsens the state of your shattered soul.

"Would you still have thought the same if I did that, Heeseung?"

"Huh?"

"Imagine if I fucked Jungwon at one point and didn't tell you", you say and instantly feel a weird taste coating your tongue at the mere thought of crossing a line like that with your life long best friend, "would you have preferred if I kept it to myself?"

Within a second jealousy flashes through Heeseung's eyes and you can tell how he's tensing up the more he thinks about it.

"No", he presses through gritted teeth and throws his head back with a sigh of defeat.

"Then you understand why I'm as hurt as I am, right?"

"Yes, Baby", he mumbles, his head shoots up as soon as he realises how he had addressed you, but you don't bother correcting him.

"You have to tell Sunghoon and cut that bitch out of your life, Heeseung", you finally say after a long beat of silence, the sudden waves of anger towards the young woman resurfacing way quicker than you could have expected, "or I won't give you another chance."

Your ultimatum doesn't come to either one of you as a surprise; you both know there's no way you'd let that woman be part of his life along with you, too aware she'd make everything a competition to the point where it ruins you.

Heeseung didn't expect any less from you, he even feels proud of how confident you are about it, glad you finally know your worth and set boundaries.

"I'm going to talk to your brother", he then sighs and shakes his head, "his career isn’t worth losing you forever. Nothing is.. He's smart and ambitious, has good grades and a great reputation, he'll find something else."

You can't deny just how happy his words make you. For the first time in what feels like ever, Heeseung isn't choosing your brother over you, something you never dare to think about yet are often reminded of. A fact you know you should feel ashamed about because of their bond and its importance, yet can't help but feel validated by.

"Jaeyun suggested to print the screenshots out and send them to her uncle", he suddenly says and looks up at you, attentively taking in the sight of your puffy, bloodshot eyes and your swollen lips, losing himself in the thought of kissing you for a second.

"That sounds a lot like a Sim Jaeyun plan", you chuckle and fumble with the tissue in your hand, "and I think it's a good one. Hoon's been the backbone of his team for almost four years, they know how good he's at his job. Even if she's close with her uncle, he'll probably think of his business first."

Heeseung approves your words with a soft nod, runs both hands over his face and pulls his beaie back over his head with a gentle sigh.

"Thank you for hearing me out", he says and suddenly stands up, "I'm sorry for hiding this from you and I'm going to do everything in my power to show you I'm worth your forgiveness."

He sounds confident yet unsure, his eyes fixated on yours and yet obviously filled with longing for your approval.

"Have you eaten anything today yet? Do you want me to order you something?"

With your brows furrowed in confusion you look up at him, the current position making him lightheaded as you your pretty eyes are focused on his face and he oh so happens to stand right in front of your seated self.

"Are you..leaving?"

You're surprised at your own question.

You didn't mean to ask him, yet the suddenness of his movements have overwhelmed you and you're actually scared he might just go.

"Yes", he says quickly and sighs, taking another step back, "I don't deserve to stay just yet. I have to earn the privilege of being with you, princess."

You physically can't stop yourself from tearing up at his words and with glossy eyes you look at him, slowly standing up and absolutely indulging in the close proximity.

For some reason the air is heavier than just a few minutes ago and you can't help but wonder if you're the only one to feel like that.

"Okay", you whisper and finally take a step away from him, despite the urge to bury your face in the crook of his neck and fall asleep with his scent in your system.

"Just to make sure, you didn't fuck Jungwon, did you?" Heeseung laughs awkwardly, yet loosens up as soon as he hears your little chuckle followed my an eye roll when you shake your head in response to his question.

"Losing your virginity to your best friend is such a cliché", you add casually and cross your arms over your chest when a sudden coldness hits you.

"P-Pardon?"

And as soon as Heeseung speaks, you freeze.

The realization of what you've just told him hits you like a ton of iced bricks, sends shivers down your spine and actually leaves you gasping for air for a solid minute.

You weren't planning on telling Heeseung about something so intimate, not yet.

The fear of your lack of actual experience scaring him away is far too big to risk it and the thought of him being turned off by you sends a rush of anxiety through your veins.

"I'm sorry", you sigh and grab your forehead, "I didn't mean to make it awkward."

You try to play his reactions off, mostly to make sure neither one of you is unnecessarily uncomfortable but mostly to stop your brain from interpreting things under the influence of arousal.

He already had a slightly flushed face and ears when he walked in a few minutes ago, the cold the reason behind it. And his glossy – no, needy eyes are something you should have gotten used to a long time ago. Heeseung looks at everyone like that, there's absolutely no point int reading into it too much.

"But, you had boyfriends", he suddenly says and looks at you confused, his statement flustering you in the worst way possible.

"Can we please not talk about this, Heeseung", you whisper and feel shame and embarrassment overwhelm you again, "I really don't want to."

"Okay – yeah, of course", he whispers and almost chokes on his own spit at the mere possibility of being your first in something still existing.

"Can I just..ask you a question?"

The words lay heavy on his tongue because he's ready to have his hope being shattered into million pieces yet again but for some reason he can't help but be hopeful.

"I am."

Is the only thing you reply, not giving him the chance to vocalise said question as you let out a shaky sigh and look away.

After going through all these emotions the past few days, you definitely didn't expect to find yourself talking about your virginity with Heeseung, of all people.

Admitting your lack of orgasms from someone else was difficult enough, you definitely wanted to wait a little longer to tell him about this. If you had ever planned to come clean about it in the first place anyway.

Heeseung tries his very best to stay composed and calm but this new found information about you is about to drive him into absolute insanity.

You're a virgin. Nobody has ever had the privilege to lose themselves inside of you. Nobody knows what you feel and look like when you're filled to the brim. Nobody on this fucking earth has ever had you cumming for them in the most intimate way possible.

No matter how hard he tries to deny it, there's a feeling of relief rushing through his chest. He never expected you to be untouched, he couldn't have. Yet knowing he still has the opportunity to be the first, if you ever saw him worthy enough, excited him more than it should.

He never cared if his partners were inexperienced.

And he never found himself genuinely caring about it when it came to you. Of course he somehow hoped to give you the opportunity to live new experiences, maybe a few firsts but not like this.

First the fact nobody has ever made you cum and now this.

"I should – get going", he suddenly presses out, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen in his lungs and for a minute he's convinced he might just pass out.

"Oh", you can't help but feel a sting in your heart at his response, "okay."

As soon as he hears the tone of your voice, a huge warning pops off in his mind and with attentive eyes he tries to read your expressions.

You've looked hurt since you had opened him the door, yet this time there seems to be something else. A different type of pain lingering in the sweet color of your eyes as you try to maintain eye contact.

"What's wrong?"

He quickly asks and reaches for your face, only to stop himself halfway up when he remembers his initial intentions.

"I'm just tired", you say calmly and you're technically not lying to him, you've barely slept all week after all, "my mind's a little fuzzy still, so I think I should go to sleep soon."

"That's not everything."

Damn Lee Heeseung and his stupid ability to read you like an open book.

You've always thought your poker face is good enough, only to realize it's probably a joke to him.

"It's been a long week, Seung", you sigh, "let's call it a night for now, yeah? We can talk about it tomorrow or whenever you're free."

"Baby please", he finally dares to step a little closer to you, "I want to take care of you the way you deserve. Please, give me the chance to."

With your lips pressed into a thin line you play with the hem of your oversized shirt, trying to sort out what exactly it is you're feeling and thinking.

"It's not the right time", you whisper suddenly, "I haven't forgiven you yet."

Your words are harsh, but honest and Heeseung is glad you're standing your ground and refuse to give in as easily as one might expect from you.

No matter how much his heart hurts, he knows you've been hurting worse because of him these past few days. This is the least you could tell him.

"You're right, I'm so–."

"And I told you I'd disappoint you when it comes to the topic of intimacy", you don't really know why you decided to interrupt him or say what had just fallen past your lips but you simply couldn't stop yourself from saying that, even if you had tried.

"Disappoint..me?"

Heeseung seems genuinely confused about your words.

There's absolutely nothing he could think of when it comes to this topic you could ever disappoint him with. Let alone your lack of experience.

"I have done a few things", you whisper and hate the way your body grows hotter at the thought of talking to Heeseung about sex, "I just never made it to the point where I wanted to go all the way in."

Your confession makes his heart skip a beat, just so it can hammer against his rib cage with full force, thrumming in his throat and ears.

For a second Heeseung feels the need to steady himself and subconsciously reaches for you, despite knowing he hasn't moved an inch the past few minutes.

"And you think that's disappointing to me?" he asks curiously and never once shifts his gaze from yours, the fire in his usually so soft and gentle eyes one you've grown quite familiar with and all you can do is nod hesitantly.

"Baby", he presses through gritted teeth, "I never cared about it. And I still don't. You're still going to be the only thing on my mind when I cum."

Heeseung's lewd choice of words definitely shouldn't surprise you as much as it does, since you've heard it quite a few times now, yet you still can't help but gasp for air.

You hate the way your brain is fighting your body, telling you to be rational and not get worked up over him talking to you like this, but how could you when this is Lee Heeseung. The one man you've ever fantasized about, the main character of all your dirty fantasies and dreams, the one you've been secretly saving yourself for.

There's no way you can actively stop your heart from beating a little further down, right in between your legs.

"Does it drive me crazy? Absolutely", he breathes and pushes a strand of your hair out of your face with one of his fingers, never once touching your skin yet sending shivers down your spine, "but it's never been of relevance for me. I still want you like a starved man."

"Stop", you whisper and let your hands find home in the fabric of his hoodie, tightening your grip and pushing yourself against his chest without hesitation; a complete contrast to your request, "I'm not strong enough to reject you right now."

"Does it feel like I'm taking advantage of your vulnerability, Y/N?"

Heeseung's question surprises you and with a soft sigh you shake your head. It never felt like he's taking advantage of any of your emotional states, which probably just makes everything even worse. Everything he does and says seems so genuine and honest, you can't get yourself to distance yourself from him. No matter how hard you try.

You know you should still be angry and mad at him, what he's done isn't supposed to be forgiven this quickly but the way you're physically and emotionally craving him feels unhealthy if not treated.

"Your words, Baby, need you to use them for me", he whispers against your lips and sighs softly when you let out a tiny "no, Seungie".

He genuinely can't believe how hard he's right now, not after he's been crying the past few days thinking of ways to make his wrongdoing up to you. Not after he genuinely thought about leaving the city to give you the space you need.

“Good girl”, the praise leaves his lips almost instinctively. There’s always been something about the way you look at him which makes him want to lay the world to your feet and never have you lift a single finger again.

He’s been wondering if you enjoy hearing it as much as he likes doing it and as soon as you bury your face in his neck with the softest, neediest whimper he’s ever heard, Heeseung finally gets the answer to his question.

“Baby, what do you want me to do? I want you to decide”, he whispers softly, his big hands caressing your back as he loses himself in the feeling of holding you in his arms.

“I feel like I should send you home and get my ass to sleep”, you reply and finally wrap your arms around his small waist, pressing yourself even closer against his chest in an attempt to ease your nerves.

“No, princess. What do you want? Forget about what you think you should do, this is all about you and your needs and desires."

Heeseung takes your face into his big hands in the softest and most gentle way possible, nudges his nose against yours and grazes his lips against your parted ones with a soft sigh.

"I want you to stay", you finally let go of all those thoughts in your head and take a deep breath, loving the way his scent fills your nose and calms your nerves just how you needed, "and I want to fall asleep in your arms."

"There you go, well done", Heeseung smiles against your lips, yet doesn't move any further and that's when you realize he's not going unless you tell him.

"And I want you to kiss me."

That's everything he needs to hear and without missing another beat, Heeseung presses his pretty lips against yours, capturing them in a hungry kiss.

He wants to go slow and soft, yet after finally getting a taste, he's been thinking about nothing else. It takes him every bit of self control not to shove his tongue down your throat and have you moan into his mouth the way you did in his car all those days ago.

But as you start moving further into his touch, your kisses growing greedier, hungrier and needier, your hands digging into the actual skin of his waist, Heeseung knows you're just as impatient as he is.

So without losing more time, he reaches for your arms and places them around his neck, a soft grunt escaping his pretty lips when you pull off his beanie and let your hands find home in his hair. The urge to pull you even closer against his body until not a single piece of paper could fit in between the two of you is overwhelming and for a moment Heeseung isn't sure if there's any oxygen left in his lungs.

You hum into his mouth, letting him take over and enjoying the way his tongue plays with yours, grazing it too and exploring your mouths in the most perfect way possible.

Heeseung's hands are messily roaming your body, groping and kneading every bit of flesh he can reach and you can tell how much he's holding himself back by the gentle pain in your hips from how much he's been digging his fingers into your skin. So with a gentle push to his wrist, you guide him to your ass, a soft whimper falling past your lips as soon as he takes a handful of your soft flesh, pushing your hips against his own without realizing it.

You love the way Heeseung is making you feel. Everything about the way he kisses and touches you makes you feel desired and adored in a way none of your previous boyfriends had managed to and for the first time in your life you actually feel sexy.

Heeseung doesn't give you much time to think, his lips sucking on your tongue, teeth digging into the soft flesh of your bottom lip as he kisses his way to your chin and down to your neck with a deep grunt rumbling through his chest.

A row of your soft whimpers and little whines fill the space of your living room and as soon as he hears the way you're falling apart for him, from just a few kisses, he feels like he could cum in his pants without the feeling of a single touch.

"Tell me to stop", he whispers, begs gently and sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth, "please, Baby."

"No", you whisper quickly and guide his hand to your chest, yearning for his touch, only for your breath to hitch in your throat as soon as you takes one of your tits into his palms, "I want you so bad."

"How do you want me, angel girl? I'm at your mercy, wanna do whatever you want me to." Heeseung's voice is raspy and hoarse, the arousal present in every single one of his words.

Of course it doesn't take you longer than a second to know what you want. You've been dreaming about it for months now, your thoughts just intensifying after seeing the name of a certain groupchat.

Only one of your three boyfriends had ever tried to go down on you, only to leave you absolutely disappointed after about a minute of trying. Their lack of desire as well as energy and motivation definitely weren't something you enjoyed and for some reason you just know Heeseung is going to be the exact opposite.

Maybe that's why asking him isn't as difficult and embarrassing as it used to be with your previous lovers.

"I want you to eat me out."

The words of every single fantasy he's ever had are finally processing in his brain because you actually said them out loud.

Heeseung has never wanted much in his life, he never had the privilege to ask for a lot, so he's always been cautious about what he wants.

Burying his face in your pretty cunt has been on top of that small list for as long as he can think of, right after you as a whole.

So as his brain tries to make its way through the fog of arousal, he can't help but halt his movements.

For a moment you're actually afraid you might have turned him off with your request, your choice of words or your boldness, only to notice the way his eyes have turned darker than you've ever seen them as he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

"Say that again", he whispers against your mouth and digs his fingers further into the flesh of your thighs, "please, Baby. I have to hear them again so I know this isn't another dream."

Another dream.

So he has actually been thinking about you in that way and despite his several confessions you can't help but gulp harshly once the realization hits you.

"I want you to eat me out, please", you repeat yourself a little less confident, your voice smaller than before because of all the arousal clouding your brain and as soon as Heeseung's deep moan fills your ears you feel your cunt clenching in despair, ruining your panties even more.

"That's my girl", Heeseung grunts and suddenly drops to his knees, pushes your oversized shirt up just enough to reveal the skin of your lower stomach before he starts littering open mouthed kisses all over you.

"Mine", that single word and its meaning send shivers down your whole body and yet again your heart starts beating in the center of your pussy to the point where you can feel just how sensitive you've gotten.

You attentively watch the way Heeseung takes off his own Hoodie, leaving him in a black shirt and for some reason he's never looked as attractive as he does on his knees with his flushed face so close to where you need him the most.

"Come on, Baby", he suddenly whispers and gently pulls down your shirts, revealing your little lace panties to his hungry eyes and quickly burying his face in your clothed cunt, "tell me who you belong to, yeah? Use those big girl words for me."

You try everything in your power to form a proper, coherent sentence but the fact you can feel Heeseung's pretty nose nudge against your sensitive clit has your head spinning to the point where keeping your balance is an actual struggle.

"You smell perfect", his voice is muffled by the way he's pressing his nose deeper in between your legs right before he gently pushes them further apart and pulls away to look at you.

"Oh, Baby", Heeseung cooes and looks uo at you with a soft smile and the prettiest shine in his bambi eyes, "you're fucking soaked. Made a mess of those pretty panties, what a bummer."

And before you can even think about what to reply, you hear the sound of fabric being torn apart, followed by watching your now destroyed underwear gently fall to the floor.

"Don't worry, I'll get you a new pair", he whispers but from the way he's staring at your now exposed cunt you can tell he's barely available anymore.

You try to read his expression, only to come to the conclusion that Heesung looks drunk. His eyes are heavy, his cheeks an even darker shade of red than before, lips swollen from the abuse of his teeth and his words sounds slurred.

You've never had anyone look at you with such hunger and that's probably why you don't feel exposed at all. Usually this would have been the point where you ask your boyfriend to turn off the lights to feel a little more comfortable and hidden but as you're standing there with your complete cunt put on full display for Heeseung to look at and admire, you've never felt more at ease.

"Say something, please", you whisper and push your fingers through his thick hair, tilting his head back to meet his gaze and you can't help but hasp at the way he looks at you.

"Couch", Seung whispers and gets on his feet, his hand around your wrist, "and spread those pretty legs for me, princess."

His words, voice and touch feel hypnotizing and without hesitation you find yourself doing as you're told, your eyes never once shifting away from his face and if it wasn't for how well you know him, you'd be worried about the look on Heeseung's handsome face.

It doesn't take long for him to drop to his knees yet again, yet this time he seems hesitant and all of a sudden tension floods your body.

"No", he whispers and quickly pushes your legs apart again, his other hand reaching for the couch as he digs his nails into the soft fabric until his knuckles have turned white, "I just need a moment to stop myself from cumming in my pants."

His confession has your cunt clenching around nothing and you can feel your juices leak out of you, something you have never experienced before and yet again, not an ounce of shame or embarrassment overwhelms you.

Knowing Heeseung has to physically calm himself to stop himself from reaching his climax makes your eyes roll into the back of your head and with a soft whimper you reach for his hair.

"This is the most perfect pussy I've ever seen", he whispers, his lids flutter shut before he pushes his cheek against your inner thigh, followed by a row of open mouthed kisses on the soft skin.

"And it's all mine."

His possessiveness comes naturally, he never meant for these thoughts to leave his head but as soon as you said those words to him, Heeseung has stopped thinking rationally and isn't planning on going back anytime soon.

And from the way you're bucking your hips up with the sweetest, most desperate whimper he's ever heard he can tell you're actually agreeing to him.

"Say it, Baby", you have no idea how many times he's made you use your words today but you don't even think about denying his request.

"It's yours, Seungie", you whine and try your best to stop squirming but no matter what, the arousal has become absolutely unbearable.

You've never been this turned on in your entire life and for the first time you're actually positive you might actually cum.

"Good girl", the praise rolls off of his tongue in the most casual manner and you hate how much heat it sends through your veins; you're already on fire and everything he does or says, just the way he looks at you pours more gasoline to it and you feel like you might pass out from the overwhelming feeling.

"You're so fucking wet." Heeseung wants to be a little less blunt and more sensual, softer and a little more romantic but his brain has shut off minutes ago and at the sight of your soaked cunt he can't seem to produce a single thought.

He's never been this aroused, none of his fantasies coming close to reality as his eyes take in the image of you in the most perfect way possible.

"Please, Seungie", you breathe as the anticipation becomes too much, "I want you so bad."

How could he ever deny a request so sweet? How could he even think about denying you what he's been dreaming about for years to the point where not a single day passed by without thoughts of you saying exactly these words to him?

So with a soft sigh and his eyes glued on your face, Heeseung leans down and lets his tongue graze over the slit of your pretty cunt, only for a deep, guttural moan of his to fill the quiet space of your living room.

For a whole minute, the world comes to a stop as the taste of your sweet juices spread on his tongue and send him into the deepest, darkest corners of his lust; something he would have never expected to see yet has already become addicted to with just a single taste.

"Finally", is the first word to leave his lips after what felt like an eternity and you can't help but bite your bottom lip at the sight of his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

You expect him to say something else, but as soon as Heeseung finds his way back to reality, he literally buries his face in your cunt and starts lapping up every single drop of your arousal without shame.

The feeling of his hot tongue grazing your drenched folds, his moans and soft whimpers, as well as the feeling of his nails digging into your hips as he pushes you against his mouth is absolutely overwhelming. There's no other way to describe what your body is going through.

You throw your head back in ecstasy, losing yourself in the haze of pleasure and finally getting what you've been dreaming about for so long, from the man you've never stopped thinking about.

And Lee Heeseung can definitely back up his big words. The way his tongue slowly yet firmly works its way up and down your pretty pussy isn't meant to bring you to the edge, it's just him savoring your taste in his mouth and literally devouring you.

With every flick of his hot muscle against your hardened, sensitive bundle of nerves you arch your back, pushing yourself against him even further until his noises are completely muffled and all you can think about is the sweet feeling of relief slowly building up in the bottom of your spine.

You can barely pay attention to his pretty face, the pleasure taking over every single bone in your body and by the time you do look down, you're absolutely mesmerized by the sight you're met with.

Heeseung seems absolutely lost in your pussy, skillfully moving his head with his tongue flattened, sucking your clit into his hot mouth before he pushes his to gue into your tight hole and easily starts fucking you with it.

Neither one of you manages to say anything; not a single word being exchanged as you both lose yourself in your biggest fantasy becoming reality.

With every movement of his tongue, your little hole clenches even tighter, making a mess of his whole face to the point where you can see your juices covering his flushed cheeks.

"S-Seung", your breath hitches in your throat when you suddenly feel his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit, rubbing gentle circles into it and pushing you even closer to the edge in a way nobody has ever managed to do it before.

"Need it, princess", Heeseung grunts and pushes his tongue into your pussy, looking up at you with the tip of his pretty nose grazing your clit whenever his digit disappears, "I need you to cum all over my tongue."

All you can do is nod as his name falls past your bit swollen lips in breathy whimpers and high pitched moans to the point where you're convinced your neighbors probably know who's currently buried between your legs.

But you can't get yourself to care enough. Your only focus being the prettiest man you've ever seen and the feeling of his tongue grazing the spongy walls of your cunt.

"You're almost there, angel girl", he sighs and pulls you closer to his face, gently rubbing another set of circles into your clit as he laps up more of your juices, not giving a fuck about the way a mixture of his own spit and your arousal is dripping down his neck, "do it for me, yeah? Be my good girl and cum for me, cum for your man."

And for some reason his choice to address himself as well as the sweet, raspy tone of his voice are more than enough to push you over the edge.

The coil in your lower stomach finally snaps and with a harsh inhale, the feeling of sweet relief starts spreading through your body all the way to the tip of your fingers and toes.

"That's my good girl", Heeseung mumbles but you can barely hear him, his voice muffled from the blood rushing in your ears as your heart slams against your rib cage and your cunt spasms uncontrollably around his tongue.

And as he watches the way you lose yourself in the sweetness of your orgasm, Heeseung can't help but smile against your pretty pussy, eyes heavy as he swallows your release and swears it's the sweetest thing he's ever had the privilege to taste.

You have absolutely no idea how much time passes until your ears stop ringing and you actually feel air filling your lungs, your sight still slightly blurry when you open your eyes and loosen your tight grip on Heeseung's hair.

You need another moment to regain your composure until your eyes drop to the man between your legs, only to whimper when you watch the way he places the softest kisses on your pulsating clit, followed by a soft "so good".

The longer you look at him, the harder the realization of what just happened hits you and for some reason your body decides to represent your current state in the form of tears because before you can even overthink anything, you feel them pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Heeseung still seems completely dazed, like he can barely keep his eyes open and you don't miss the way he keeps licking your lips to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.

But as soon as his hazy brain manages to pull him back to the here and now, his brows furrowed in light confusion and instead worry flashes through his hooded eyes.

"What's wrong, Baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? Did I take it too far?"

You can literally feel the heaviness vanishing from his shoulders and chest when you instantly start shaking your head, denying his implications and just reaching for his face to pull his whole body closer to your own.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry", you sob into the crook of his neck, barely noticing the way he flips you two over rather casually, "it was perfect. I've never felt this good. Nobody has ever..thank you."

Heeseung can't help but chuckle breathlessly at your words. He definitely wasn't expecting you to cry after receiving your first orgasm from someone else but the sincerity in your voice is what does it to him. The fact you're still so gentle and sweet after making an actual mess of his face is so like you, he actually feels himself falling for you all over again.

"No, Baby, thank you for giving me the privilege of your pleasure", he sighs and kisses your forehead, making sure not to get any of your juices on your skin to avoid awkwardness, "I won't ever take this for granted. This is everything I've ever dreamed of."

You don't know what to say, all you can do is treasure his words and give them the safest place in your heart before your eyes start feeling heavy as the exhaustion of your orgasm finally hits you.

"I can't stay tonight, Baby", Heeseung says softly after he's firmly tucked you into the warmth of your bed, his hand gently caressing your cheek and you sleepily nod, "I don't want to lie to Sunghoon or talk about another woman, even if she doesn't exist, when it's about you. I'll call you tomorrow and come by after your brother's left, yeah?"

You nod and kiss the palm of his ring clad hand with a soft sigh, loving the fact his face is the lash thing you'll see before falling asleep.

"Good girl", Heeseung says and gives you one last kiss on the forehead before he gets up, "I'm so proud of you, Baby. My perfect little princess. All mine, right?" You hum approvingly, not awake enough to properly register what he's said but agreeing nonetheless.

"And I'm all and only yours, angel girl." That's the last thing to reach you and as Heeseung watches the way your lids fall shut and don't open again, he can't help but stay another five minutes just to look at you and wonder how he could ever be worthy of a heart as perfect as yours.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: the length..i’m sorry about the length like genuinely…but i hope you still enjoyed it and dont worry i’d skip a lot if i were you so just go ahead 💀 sending everyone kisses and tysm for all the love and support, i love you SO much 🥺🩷 especially feedback and reblogs are appreciated my loves!🧸💗)

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