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#Lovely way to be greeted into the fanfiction side of things HA
multi-kpop-fanfics · 3 months
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more than I can resist
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pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader x Wonwoo
genre: smut, fluff, poly!au - minors dni.
warnings: threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f and m rec), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, use of petnames (princess, sunshine, pretty boy), sub!reader, switch!wonwoo, switch!cheol, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), manhandling, hair pulling, aftercare
word count: ~3.8k
summary: you love starting your day with your boyfriend and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. but your other boyfriend has a different idea of a perfect morning.
Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.
Author's note: happy holidays beloveds, here's some woncheol filth - big thank you to @gyuwoncheol for betareading (and yelling at me hehe) and to @wooahaeproductions for helping me out with the title!
tagging @onlymingyus @smileysuh @horanghater @shuadotcom @wongyuseokie
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.
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Raindrops clatter on the window, a moody gray color engulfing the bedroom. You swear it makes you want to fall back asleep, but the warmth surrounding and the faint smell of coffee being brewed keep your eyes wide open.
You raise your torso from the bed and notice that your boyfriend is missing - now you know why the smell of coffee lingers in the air.
You push the comforter to the side before stepping on the carpeted floor, but a strong arm tugging at your wrist stops you - the wrist of your other boyfriend.
“Don’t leave yet, I wanna cuddle for a little longer.” Seungcheol pouts, voice still dipped in sleepiness.
“But Wonwoo is already up and making coffee. I don’t want to drink it cold, Cheollie.”
“But cuddles!” The blond man pouts again.
“Sorry, Cheollie, coffee is calling.” You smile softly and get up from the bed, wearing your fuzzy slippers to go to the kitchen.
Seungcheol plops down on the bed, puffing his lips in annoyance. It’s baffling how you’re willing to leave the warmth and coziness of his arms just for a cup of coffee with Wonwoo. Or maybe he’s being dramatic about it.
You, on the other hand, are absolutely delighted to be greeted with Wonwoo’s broad back, clad in a plain white t-shirt. You tiptoe your way behind him and wrap your arms around your waist to back hug him.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of your hand lovingly.
“Good morning, Wonu.” You hum and pat his abdomen. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty well. Although I wish I didn't have to spend most of the night away from you. Not to mention the amount of times Seungcheol tried to pull you away.” He comments with a small sigh.
“Oh come on, you know he’s clingy in his sleep.” 
“Y/N, clingy is Seungcheol’s middle name.” Wonwoo chuckles as he pours the dark brown liquid in the three matching cups.
“I think that’s one of the many reasons why you love him.” You tease him with a sing-song voice.
“I cannot refute that, I’m afraid.” He passes you the cup with the sun carvings on. “Enjoy the coffee, darling.”
“Thank you baby.” You take a sip and moan in satisfaction when the coffee hits your taste buds. “Perfect as always.”
“And the only thing I’m perfect at-”
“Bullshit!”
“In the kitchen, I mean.”
“Oh. Then yeah, you’re right.” You grin evilly and he swats your arm playfully.
“If you get to be a meanie first thing in the morning, then maybe I should cut down on your coffee privileges.” Wonwoo tilts his head sideways, a cat-like smirk on his face.
“Now who’s the meanie?” You put your coffee down on the counter and rest your fists on your waist.
“Honestly? He’s still sleeping in the bedroom.” Wonwoo deadpans and you snort, trying to suppress your laughter.
“You would have to bear with his pouting for the rest of the month if he heard you say that.”
“And he would get even more annoyed because I know when to not give attention to him.” He gives you a smug answer.
“Is it me or do you have a thing for arguing with Cheol?”
“I do. And frankly, I like him a bit better when he gets frustrated.” 
“Because he looks hot when he’s angry?”
“Exactly.” Wonwoo licks the corners of his lips. “Makes the ordeal a bit nastier, you know?”
“It’s always the quiet ones, I swear.” You roll your eyes and walk away from the kitchen.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“To the bathroom. I want to wash my face and do my morning routine. My eyes still feel a bit droopy.” You rub your face with your palms.
“Then stop rubbing your face, you idiot.” He laughs and you wave your hands in defeat, making your way to the bathroom.
Wonwoo is left alone in the kitchen once more and he goes back to enjoying his coffee, back turned against the rest of the living room.
He’s unaware of Seungcheol walking into the kitchen with his signature pout on, the latter feeling sulky from the lack of attention.
But as soon as he notices his boyfriend’s shoulders stretching out the fabric of his tee, the devil on Seungcheol’s shoulder is awakened and ready to take action.
The blond man presses his body on Wonwoo’s back and runs his hands over his sides, making the younger man shiver.
“Shit - you startled me, Cheol!” Wonwoo curses out loud, the half empty coffee cup nearly dropping from his hands.
“You’re one big scaredy cat, aren’t you.” Seungcheol giggles.
“Good morning to you too, I guess.”
“Where’s Y/N?”
“She’s in the bathroom to freshen up a bit.”
“So much for wanting to drink coffee with you.” 
“At least she escaped your clutches.” Wonwoo laughs.
“Gotta live up to my middle name, right?” Seungcheol presses himself a bit harder on Wonwoo, his morning wood trying to make its presence known.
“So you were awake this whole time, huh?” 
“Yeah, but the bed was too warm to not enjoy it.”
“But you got up either way. Can’t live without being the center of our attention, Cheollie?” Wonwoo teases him with the nickname, knowing how much it riles him up.
“You must be in a pretty good mood to be cracking shitty jokes now, Wonu.” Seungcheol’s hand descends towards Wonwoo’s crotch, rubbing him over his sweats. 
“And you must be really thirsty for attention to be pulling tricks like these.” He grips the older man’s wrist, low hiss echoing in the kitchen.
Seungcheol smirks at his reaction and doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down, biting his bottom lip when Wonwoo grips the counter a bit tighter.
“Losing your composure already? I thought you were stronger than that.”
“Shut up.”
“Ah ah, pretty boys like you shouldn’t say bad words.” 
A shiver runs down Wonwoo’s spine when he hears the pet name, hips bucking into Seungcheol’s hand.
“Seems like you’re the one who needs attention, Wonu.” The blond man chuckles in his ear.
“Oh my God, just stop talking and keep touching me, please.”
Seungcheol takes his hand away and turns Wonwoo around, pinning him to the counter. He might not be taller, but he’s definitely stronger and he will always find a way to use his strength to his advantage.
“Whoever did your hair last night deserves an award.”
"T-Thanks. Wish I was here with the two of you, not at some boring business dinner." 
"It's okay, Wonu. You've worked hard and it's reward time, pretty boy." 
Seungcheol drops down on his knees and unties the string of Wonwoo's sweats, pulling them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, already hard and leaking precum.
"Were you dining with your colleagues with such a boner? I almost feel sorry for you." He rubs his fingertip over the shaft and around the bulbous head.
Wonwoo turns his head away, cheeks flushed and biting the back of his hand to drown any noise that threatens to spill.
"Gosh, you're so hot when you're shy." Seungcheol breathes out and wraps his puffy lips around the tip, giving it light sucks before deepthroating Wonwoo's cock in one go.
If there’s one thing Seungcheol is good at, it’s oral sex - no matter who’s on the receiving end in your relationship, he will leave you with jelly legs.
“C-Cheol, slow down a little.” Wonwoo immediately puts his hands in his boyfriend’s hair, nearly fisting the blond strands. Seungcheol pulls away his lips with a loud, almost vulgar ‘pop’. He 
“I can go slow. But no promises on how long I’ll be able to keep it that way, pretty boy.” He chuckles before spitting on his fingers and moving them behind Wonwoo.
“Y-You don’t have to d-do this.” 
“One of us is gonna get fucked in the ass very soon and it won’t be me.” Seungcheol kisses the tip of Wonwoo’s cock and carefully slides one finger past his rim, 
“You almost sound d-disappointed.” The younger man shudders and clenches around the thick digit.
“Me? Not at all, pretty boy. But you must be disappointed, since you’re so obsessed with my ass.”
“Not my fault you’re so t-thick everywhere, fuck.”
“Aww, are you jealous, Wonu?” Seungcheol grins against Wonwoo’s cock, adding a second finger in his hole. “You shouldn’t be, though - Your body is really hot, in its own way.”
“T-Tell me more.” Wonwoo moans and grips the blond hair.
“Where should I even begin from? Your strong, broad shoulders? Your pretty collarbones?” Seungcheol showers him with compliments, his free hand coursing over Wonwoo’s body, reaching to his waist and gripping it tight. “Or your slutty little waist?” 
Wonwoo loses his patience and thrusts his cock in the older man’s mouth, both hands glued on his head to keep it in place and fuck it relentlessly. His round glasses are already fogged up and sliding down the bridge of his nose. The two fingers haven’t stopped toying with his hole, his sensitivity skyrocketing.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, God, I’m so close!” Wonwoo throws his head back, mouth wide open and tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
Seungcheol hums affirmatively and hollows his cheeks around the shaft, the tip being pushed all the way down his throat. Wonwoo’s orgasm is strong enough to make him lose his balance, but the strong arm around his waist holds him up. The man on his knees swallows every single drop of semen, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down rhythmically. A few seconds later, he detaches his mouth and fingers, breathing heavily. His half-lidded eyes staring at Wonwoo with heavy lust.
“Ahem.”
Your voice interrupts the two men and Wonwoo tries to pull up his sweats hastily.
“Don’t bother. You won’t need them anyways.” You shake your head in dismissal.
“Hey princess.” Seungcheol gets up and licks his fingers clean with a smug smile on his face.
“You seem awfully awake for someone who wanted cuddles just a few minutes ago.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.
“And you seem awfully jittery, princess. What’s wrong, hm?”
“Cheol, stop teasing her.” Wonwoo huffs.
“It’s okay, Wonu. I was heading to the bedroom anyway.” You shrug and leave the kitchen, making a turn for the bedroom. The two men peek their heads and see you throw your (Wonwoo’s) t-shirt right on the doorstep and Wonwoo pushes Seungcheol out of the way, running back to the bedroom, the older man’s laugh echoing behind him.
A grin creeps on your lips when Wonwoo’s arms wrap around your midriff and his lips attach themselves to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.
“You seem to be pretty riled up.” You murmur and push your ass on his crotch.
“Cheol’s fault.” He murmurs back and turns you around, pushing you softly on the bed to climb on top of you. “But you’re not innocent either, sunshine.”
“I know. That’s why we’re here now, right?” You toy with the hem of his shirt.
“Yeah. And I cannot wait to fuck you, sunshine.” He grazes his teeth over your pulse point, hands groping your underwear - clad body.
“Not so fast, pretty boy.” Seungcheol leans against the door frame. “I call the shots here.”
“Can you not ruin the moment for once? I missed her last night and I wanna have my time with her.” 
“You will.” H He walks behind Wonwoo and threads his hand in his hair, pulling it back harshly as he presses his lips on the shell of his ear. “As long as you do as I say, that is.”
“Cheol-” You open your mouth to speak. 
“Princess. Behave.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you pipe down, waiting for his orders. Seungcheol hums in approval and lets go of Wonwoo’s hair, who lets out a loud hiss.
“Lay on your back, pretty boy. Need you to put that mouth of yours into good use.” He orders while undressing himself till complete nakedness.
“And why should I do that?” Wonwoo scoffs in an attempt to challenge Seungcheol.
“You said you wanted to have your time with Y/N, didn’t you? You’re gonna let her sit on your face and she’s gonna use her pretty mouth for something else.”
“Damn it.” The younger man curses and strips down as well, following Seungcheol’s orders. He lies down on the bed and Seungcheol pats your thigh for you to get naked and climb over Wonwoo’s face.
“Hey sunshine.”
“Hey Wonu.” You giggle while peering your eyes down to him, his lips peppering kisses on your inner thighs.
“Eyes on me, princess.” Your other boyfriend yanks your hair back, forcing your gaze on him. “Hands down on the mattress.” 
You do as he says and you’re now on the same level as Seungcheol’s cock, the thick shaft mere centimeters away from you. You open your mouth to stretch your tongue and lick the tip, but Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on his face to eat you out. You cry out when his tongue slides across your slit, flattening it over your clit and turning it pointy when it reaches your entrance. 
“What’s wrong, princess? Does the pretty boy’s mouth feel good?” Seungcheol caresses your cheek and you nod affirmatively.
“Can’t have you all fucked out already.” He taps his cock on your cheek and you desperately chase his shaft with your mouth. He puts you out of your misery by sliding his cock down your throat, making you gag with his size. You're glad you've trained yourself (with the help of your boyfriends) to suppress your gag reflex when one of them is fucking your mouth. 
You let Seungcheol take control of your head and use it like a fucktoy to satisfy the raging erection, all while Wonwoo eats your pussy like it's the last meal he will ever enjoy on this futile planet. His hands roam your body, fingertips gliding over your hips, waist and gripping your breasts.
Your eyes flutter dangerously, hands fisting the sheets underneath you, as you let yourself enjoy what you're being provided by the loves of your life.
"Mmm, always so good at sucking dick, princess.” Seungcheol juts his hips in your mouth, loving the weight of his cock on your tongue.
You want to bob your head on your own on his cock, but the hand in your hair stops you from doing so. Instead, you ride out your frustrations on Wonwoo’s face, who doesn’t seem to mind you using him for your own pleasure.
“Pretty boy is doing a good job, isn’t he, princess?” Seungcheol slides out his cock and taps it over your cheeks, leaving wet trails of spit on your face.
“His mouth is so fucking good, Daddy.” You moan in response.
“Is that so? Is he taking care of your needy pussy?”
“Yes, he’s so good!” You dig your nails in the bed.
“He can be even better with his dick, princess. Hop off.” 
You whine in protest, but one raised brow from the blond man is enough to make you follow his orders, your other boyfriend grunting in annoyance.
“Lay on your back, princess. And pull your legs up to your chest.”
“Do you ever want to just go with the flow?” Wonwoo sits up and throws a nasty glare towards Seungcheol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No.” The older man says curtly and grabs Wonwoo by the arms, turning him around to face you and he pushes him on top of you.
“Fuck! Sorry, sunshine.” Wonwoo puts his hands on each side of your head to not crush you with his weight. “I guess someone is impatient.”
“Yeah, I am.” Seungcheol slaps his ass and kneads the flesh with his hands. “But I’m sure our dear princess is impatient as well and she would love to be stuffed full with your cock. Isn’t that right, princess?”
You nod fervently and you buck your hips directly on Wonwoo’s crotch and he moans, gripping his shaft with one hand to guide it to your entrance. A blissful sigh escapes his lips when he slides inside your pussy, enjoying your tight warmth.
“Good, stay still, pretty boy.” Seungcheol bites his bottom lip as he reaches for the lube in the drawer of the nightstand and he opens the cap to spritz a generous amount over his fingers. He carefully spreads it over his boyfriend’s ass, sliding two fingers to check whether he’s loose enough to take something bigger.
Wonwoo shudders on top of you and slowly moves his hips to start fucking you, but Seungcheol grips his waist to stabilise him.
“I said. Stay still.” He aligns the tip of his cock with the hole and pushes in with careful motions, until he’s completely sheathed in. 
“Fuck, oh fuck.” Wonwoo digs his nails in the mattress, trying his best to accommodate the stretch.
“Wonu, are you okay?” You pet the back of his hair.
“Y-Yeah, more than okay.” 
A fluid thrust from behind makes him groan again and jerks his entire body forward, resulting in a strong thrust in your cunt. You let out a gasp in response and your eyes notice the mischievous glint in Seungcheol’s eyes. He sends you a wink before he starts rutting his hips faster.
The force he exerts in fucking Wonwoo results in you getting fucked with the same pace. Both you and Wonwoo let out obscene noises in unison, your hands flying to his back.
“Your cock feels so damn good, Wonu.” You dig your nails in his back.
“God, I can’t even f-focus on what feels better right now.” He moans back and ducks his head in the crook of your neck.
“Stop being shy, pretty boy.” Seungcheol pulls Wonwoo’s hair and lifts his head to let you take a better look of his expression.
You clench around Wonwoo’s cock when your eyes fall on his flushed face and messed up hair, sweat beads forming on his forehead and eyebrows.
“How does he look, princess?”
“Fucking beautiful, Cheollie.” You whine and Wonwoo bucks his hips harder in you, pushing your body closer to the foot of the bed. 
“Pretty boy loves being praised.” Seungcheol’s thrusts take a rougher turn and snaps his pelvis almost mercilessly.
“Yes, yes I do, fuck. Harder!” The younger man begs in an embarrassing way.
“God, you sound so pretty when you beg.” You whisper loud enough to be heard in the room and smash your lips on his, your hands now moving to cup his jaw. Your tongue mingles with Wonwoo’s, sucking it passionately until you feel him whine in your mouth repeatedly. A sudden wave of sticky warmth floods your walls and you realize that your boyfriend just came inside you without a warning. 
“Mffh- ah, fuck, I’m sorry, sunshine…” He pants heavily, cock still twitching inside you as he grinds slowly. 
“Don’t worry, Wonu.” You stroke his cheek while he desperately tries to make you cum. “Can you please make me cum?”
“Shit, anything for you, sunshine.” He slides his hand between your bodies to search for your clit and rub it in rapid circles.
“How did I get so damn lucky with the two of you?” Seungcheol peers down on you as he pets Wonwoo’s hair a bit softer this time, the contrast between his hand and his hips staying sharp.
“C-Cheol, p-please.” 
“Hang in there, pretty boy, almost there.”
Seungcheol’s hand glides over Wonwoo’s spine until it grips on the other side of his waist and keeps him steady to deliver a few more thrusts. He throws his head back in bliss as the climax hits him, his heavy cock unloading globs of cum inside.
“Fucking perfect ass, so damn tight.”
Wonwoo’s head dips in your neck again as he lets out a loud sob and cums inside you again, but his hand doesn’t falter on your clit and you scream when your own orgasm crashes on you, hands struggling to find something sturdy to hold onto.
Your body decides to fall limp on the bed with Wonwoo right on top of you, who is still breathing heavily due to his consecutive orgasms.
Seungcheol slowly retracts his cock and lays on top of the two of you, catching his own breath.
“I can’t fucking move.” Wonwoo grunts.
“Me neither.” You agree in a split second.
“Did so well for me, darlings.” Seungcheol pats your thigh while pressing a kiss on Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Thank you Cheollie. Could you two please get off me now? You’re literally crushing me.” You complain to your boyfriends.
“Sorry, princess.” He laughs and sits back on the bed, allowing Wonwoo to roll on his back.
“Thank you. Can someone carry me to the bathroom now? My legs are ruined.” 
“Abusing your princess rights, aren’t you?” The older man quirks his brow.
“Are you gonna refuse?”
“Never.” He picks you up in bridal style and carries you towards the bathroom, your giggles echoing in the corridor.
About ten minutes later, you’re happily soaking in the tub, filled with warm water and a lavender scented bath bomb, all while Seungcheol walks back to the bedroom to check up on Wonwoo.
“Do you need help?”
“Nah, I’ll be okay. Just…give me a few minutes.”
“Fucked you real good, huh?”
“Not as bad as the sheets, but I digress.”
“The sheets aren’t as tight as you or Y/N, but I digress.” The blond man smirks.
“I swear to God, I’ll get back at you for this.” Wonwoo groans, trying to stretch out his legs so he’ll be able to walk all the way to the bathroom.
“Hm, really? And how are you going to do it, huh? By trying to tie me up?” Seungcheol taunts him with a cocked eyebrow.
“That’s not a bad idea actually, given how squirmy you get when your ass gets pounded from behind.” Wonwoo licks his bottom lip.
“Are you that obsessed with my ass, Wonu?”
“More like obsessed with the mental image of railing you like a bitch in heat.” 
Seungcheol lets out a dirty laugh, shaking his head as he heads out of the room. 
“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy. That ass can handle more than you can think of.” He punctuates his words by landing a slap on his ass and sending a wink to his boyfriend.
Wonwoo plops back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling, a grin plastered on his face.
He can’t wait for that day to come.
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pirateprincessblog · 2 years
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Read For Me 》 P. Seonghwa
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NEW! Read the ongoing full version on Wattpad!
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:
One
Two
Three (new!)
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: books, fanfictions, TV shows and games took your excitement about real life away. nothing has your heart beating fast, everything is pretty much the same and dull to you. nobody could pull you out of your void of fantasy for a long time. still, your best friend decides to try one last time. she does succeed, but not in the way she meant. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, best friend's father seonghwa 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, unprotected sex 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: in my dilf atz phase.
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
༻♡༺
Buried into your books and the void of the fantasy world, you had little to no excitement left in your body for the real life events. They lacked... something. Everything was awkward, miscalculated, weird and stiff. In books, the world was so fluid. Tension, passion, strong emotions like love and hate were on almost all pages. It filled your empty memories and fantasies just right. You now wished to drop out of college, buy a castle, run into a mysterious higher vampire and be the reason he exists as a good person now. Or maybe succeed in going through the wall and ending up on Platform 9¾, preferably face first into Cedric Diggory's chest.
Erotica isn't foreign to you either. They say the dirtiest ones are usually the virgins. And they weren't wrong. The amount of frustration trapped in you did you no good. You used to wonder how your male friends could do it so often, but once you got a taste of that side, you understood better than anyone. Countless nights of your fingers working on all your sensitive buds had you only wishing for more, even after release. It just wasn't enough. You hoped for a miracle every single time. You hoped that one of the men from your fantasies would appear in your room and satisfy you just how you wanted. Wouldn't it be just perfect if Henry Cavill appeared in the room? Preferably in his Witcher costume? If not him, then Lee Dong Wook would do equally good.
You drop your book on the bed. Your eyes skimmed over words, but you didn't pay attention to a single thing that was written. You decide to take a break from reading. Maybe you could even drink your first glass of water today. The sun was almost setting, yet you only had a bowl of cereal and half of a pizza slice. You glance at the clock. You despised it. It only reminded you of how fast time flies. You didn't even get to the steamy part of your fantasy, yet you already had to get dressed and wait for your friend in the driveway.
Your college best friend is back from her seasonal vacation in the Alps. Or was it Greece this time? It didn't even matter. It seemed like they only went to keep the tradition, not because they wanted to. She was probably richer than the whole college combined, yet she didn't know where to use all her fortune. So she settled for buying presents for her friends, which is why you now have a full wall covered with books and collectible figures and movie props.
Thirty minutes later, you are outside, your eyes searching for a black Mercedes with light up wheels and a suspicious looking driver. All three of their bodyguards were funny. They weren't as they described them in books. Her bodyguards were stiff, bland, and didn't say more than a greeting. You didn't exactly expect them to flirt with you any chance they get like you were used to on the pages, but the behaviour was still a disappointment for you.
Chills run up your spine as you watch the sun set. You regret picking out the outfit you are wearing. As if you weren't aware that the summer days are far behind. You wore the dress you got from her last trip to Paris. She had a great fashion sense and loved fashion in general, and to turn down her clothes meant a heartbreak for her.
"As soon as I saw it, I thought: her."
The way she described how she found it was amusing to you. It was knee-length and had long see-through sleeves. You felt the prettiest in it.
Finally, you heard the familiar engine. You didn't even have to look. The vehicle pulled up in front of you, and before the driver could get out, the door opened. A tall masculine figure stepped out of the car, and opened the door all the way for you. You feel chills run up your spine once again, this time not from the cold, but from the sight in front of you.
The man in front of you was absolutely stunning. He had the sparkliest and biggest eyes you had ever seen, broad shoulders, a confident smirk and-
"Dad, stop messing with her! She will think she is going to get kidnapped!" Your friend's voice yelled from inside the car.
You gulped, eyes still not leaving his face. In the three years of your friendship with her, you never saw her parents. Especially her father. Not even on photos. So, naturally, you'd need time to recover from this shock.
"Whenever you are ready."
The man politely bowed his head towards the seats, then stepped back so he could close the door after you. He sat in the front seat, then nodded towards the driver as a sign to turn on the engine.
The ride was peaceful, if you exclude your friend's nails clicking against the phone screen.
"I hear you like books." The words drip from his lips like honey.
You blush at simple eye contact through the rear mirror. His gaze has your fingers playing in your lap and your thighs pressed together.
He is so hot.
"I do, Mr Park."
"That's lovely. It's rare to find people in younger generations that enjoy reading. They mainly use it as a reason to bully someone."
"It truly is," you confirm, wanting to keep the conversation going. "You enjoy books too, Sir?"
Fathers of your other friends usually tell you to call them by their names. But not Park Seonghwa. He sure as fuck is not like other fathers you've met. You don't remember the last time your cheeks felt so hot because of someone.
"Of course. I have a whole library in my house. You are free to see it if you wish. My sweet social daughter will show you. Won't you, darling?"
His gaze switches to your friend, who is too invested in the ongoing conversation on her phone to pay attention to the one happening in real life.
"Sure, sure."
Park Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, then sat back in silence. You looked around you. The girl next to you was dressed beautifully as usual. It surprised you how she could make all those weird elements feel so ordinary and pretty. You, on the other hand, struggled to pair the jeans and a top. You barely figured out which shoes went with the dress. You felt underdressed. Her father wore a suit, and she had an elegant short blazer which matched her trousers, paired up with heels and a matching purse. You had a phone in your hand and a tote bag with your pajamas for the night. And a jacket to keep you warm. It didn't go with the outfit you had poorly put together at all. You wanted to run back home and wear something more fitting for the house you'll be staying in for a day or two.
You were in it once. You felt ridiculously small inside it. The ceilings were so high, dazzling chandeliers hanging from them. The windows were tall and in a minimalistic style. You only wondered how much time it took to clean them. They had all sorts of things you thought were unnecessary. Like a pool. The beach was just fifteen minutes away, the pool was there just to show off. So many bedrooms also had you confused. Since Spring, only two people live there now; your friend and her father. The mother filed for a divorce as she found love in a tourist from Poland. Poor Mr Park.
"Let's go," your friend finally put the phone away.
It took you a few moments to take in all the differences that were made. The portrait of a woman and a child above the fireplace was now gone and replaced with one of the man you just met and a young lady in which you found a sister 3 years ago.
"Anyone want my famous fig cheese prosciutto bites?" The man held a silver plate full of the said bites in front of the girls.
"No, dad, disgusting. Fruit and meat?"
"Growing up this spoiled one would think your taste in food would get better. Chicken nuggets don't really pass as an appetiser meal."
You watch with amusement as the two exchange a few funny grimaces, before your friend makes her way towards her room. "You eat some of that, since I know damn well you didn't eat shit today."
"I so did."
"You're so lying, bitch."
You laugh, ready to throw the word right back at her, when you feel Mr Park's gaze on you.
"Cuss her out all you want. It is none of my business."
"No, no. It's not quite appropriate for someone to talk like that."
In front of you, you add in your mind.
He hums, then smiles at you. "Bite?"
"I'd love to."
It takes only an eyebrow raise from him to let you know that you could've worded it better.
"I mean, I'd love one."
You take one from the plate, then admire it. Were you supposed to shove the whole thing in your mouth? Maybe pull it apart and eat it in rows? Bite into it?
"I don't usually try to poison my daughter's friends, doll. Just enjoy it. If we don't eat these tonight, they will go bad and I'll have to throw them away."
The little nickname slip had your toes wiggling in your shoes. He is so effortlessly breathtaking. Seeing that you're still struggling with the food, he takes one bite in his hand. He removes the toothpick holding the ingredients together, then steps towards you.
Every thought you had in your mind until then disappeared. Park Seonghwa gently cupped your lower jaw, and you relax into his touch. You look straight into his eyes as he puts the food between your lips. When you fail to move on your own, he smirks with amusement. Two fingers gently push the food into your mouth, resting on your tongue for a split second.
"Can you chew that for me?"
You feel your core throb. You feel fragile and weak under his touch. Most of all, you feel horny for your friend's dad. You remember to blink, then start chewing on the delicious food. He does not avert his eyes as you do so. Once you made sure to chew enough times, you finally swallow. A satisfied smile decorated his face as his thumb caressed your cheek, hand still cupping your jaw.
"Good girl."
You think you see stars. Park Seonghwa has an impact nobody ever had on you. And lots of them tried. Park Seonghwa didn't even need to try. He just - existed.
The man lets go of your face, then silently makes his way towards his room. At least you assume it is his room. He walked away so calmly, almost making you think you imagined what had just happened. Your face suddenly feels empty and cold without his touch. He had you in a chokehold with a simple touch and a smile.
You almost forget about your best friend waiting in her room. You hope your blushing won't betray you. After all, she must be tired of people wanting to fuck her dad.
Your conversations and jokes don't stop until after midnight. By now, you've had a stand-up show, a few episodes of your favorite TV show, a few funny clips of your favorite artists, and a fashion show. You are exhausted, almost ready for bed. Almost. You still need to get the frustration out somehow. The younger girl is more than ready for bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was out of this world. You laugh at her smeared makeup, then reach for the box of wet wipes. You gently clean her face, then try to do her usual routine. You don't remember it, but you try your best.
You make your way to her tall mirror, ready to clean your face too. If your best friend didn't study and work with fashion, she would surely be a makeup artist. It's a pity that you have to wipe down the art she created. Your hands fall down, and your eyes skim over your outfit and hair. She made you wear the brand new lingerie she got for her birthday as a joke. It was funny when they were in her hands, but you'll never forget the gasp that came out of her when you stepped out of the big wardrobe.
"Wanna scissor?"
You'd be up to try it, just not with her. Not while you have her dad on your mind. Perhaps- perhaps you could suddenly get thirsty and go to the kitchen dressed like that? The lingerie was now hidden under a short silver silk dress she wore for her ex boyfriend's birthday party. It looked plain and stupid, but the young girl had the power to turn it into something jaw dropping. Paired with silver heels and dazzling makeup, you looked ready for, well, someone to destroy it.
You open the door, then slowly step in the hallway. The girl explained that Mr Park's room is at the end of the hallway, but you cannot just walk in and expect something to happen. Maybe he simply liked teasing. Maybe he never responds to all those calls for pleasure. He is surely aware of what an impact he has on people, and maybe he finds it amusing. You still have a shot to see for yourself.
You drink a glass of water. Then another one. He isn't here. He must be asleep already. He is a hard working man after all. All this didn't come into his life easily. God, good looking and hard-working? He must be the whole package. Who in their right mind would leave a man like this? Perhaps she couldn't keep up with his sex drive. You hope.
You set the glass aside, and examine the kitchen again. Many drinks decorated the shelves, along with luxurious looking glasses and other glass decorations. You could only dream of having a home like this. You could probably afford a single spoon from the bottom drawer. You just couldn't wait to meet your soul mate and force your brilliant ideas on them. After all, you have a gift for that. Decorating, I mean. Not the forcing part.
You feel less sleepy now that you've drank so much water. You wander around the living room for a while, hoping he would come down at any moment. Yet it still doesn't happen. Your feet carry you to the door near the staircase. You slowly open it, then look around. With your luck, he will come down now that you are snooping around his home. He better stay asleep now.
You step inside, debating whether to turn on the lights. Fuck it, you think. Your hand finds the light switch on the cold wall. You squint at the sudden brightness. It takes a while for your eyes to get used to it, but when they do, all you can do is gasp.
The walls were covered with antique bookshelves, each filled with books from top to bottom. They were divided in sections, and they had the most beautiful covers and spines you've ever seen. You step inside, closing the door behind. The room was endless rows of fantasy, sci-fi, romance, poetry, educational books, and-
Erotica.
Fuck, lots of erotica. A whole wall, maybe even two, dedicated to the sinful delight. You didn't even need to check if you're right. You'd recognise some of those spines even in darkness. A single desk is placed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking chair. Pens and notebooks are neatly placed in the top corner, and a book rests at the edge. A suit jacket, most probably Mr Park's, is placed over the backrest. The room was organised, clean, and smelled like sandalwood mixed with jasmine. It was pleasant enough to just stand there. Yet the curiosity got the best (or worst) of you, as it always did.
The smell of books takes over your senses. You feel the worn out spines and edges under your fingertips. He has them all: from the very first romance novels with the very first sex scenes to steamy books who had sex written all over them. You weren't sure which ones you liked more. You only knew that you'd settle for anything just to get a little taste.
Your gaze falls on the book which laid on the desk. His most recent read, perhaps? It still had a bookmark, you notice. You sit on the chair, and almost sink into it from the softness. You close your eyes, inhaling all the scents you can. You sense a hint of bourbon. Even his scent makes your lower stomach burn with unreleased sensation.
You take the book into your hands, then turn it over. The summary made your curiosity even worse, and you could forget about sleep for at least two more hours. You lean back, put your feet on the desk, and happily start with the book. It has a plot, of course, but currently? You couldn't give a single fuck about it. But you aren't one to skip pages just to get to a certain point in the story. So you force yourself to read through the little boring descriptions. In the corner of your eye, you spot a box of tissues peeking out of the bottom drawers. You see no other chairs around here. It means that nobody enters the room.
A man and a box of tissues mean only one thing.
You sigh at the picture that forms in your head. You see Mr Park sitting on the chair. He is wearing his suit vest, a book in his hand and legs spread comfortably. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, which you know is thick. Your eyes have dropped down there once or twice. He is lazily stroking himself, his attention still fully on the book. There is just something so fucking hot about watching a man satisfy himself.
You feel your throat go dry. You open your eyes, ready to put the book away and try to go to sleep. Yet the plot has just started to get steamy. You sit back once again, the book in your hand not getting any rest tonight. Your eyes skim over the hot descriptions, each making you more flustered. The thought of Park Seonghwa reading this is driving you crazy.
Nicholas has waited for this moment for months, yet it felt like years to him. He would use every second of it, and he will be the best she ever had.
He worshipped her all night long, explored her body with his tongue, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and grabbed at anything he could. He devoured her, his wet muscle tirelessly working on her sensitive bud. Her cries of pleasure had him cumming in his own pants, yet he didn't care. He existed for her, and her only.
Was it too much to ask for a simple eating out? You wonder how it feels. You had one, a long time ago. Along with a messy first time. God, the second time might've been ever messier. None of it was enjoyable. You too wanted to be manhandled. You too wanted to be worshipped. You wanted someone to tirelessly eat you out until you cream. And scream.
You groan. Continuing will do you no good, but going to sleep is impossible. You could rub out a quick one and then try to rest. Wouldn't be your first time. You feel yourself dripping through your panties. All these descriptions have your head spinning. You reach for the box of tissues. The last thing you needed was to leave evidence that you snooped around. If you're going to leave one, it better not be an arousal stain on the chair.
You pull the drawer so you can take the box out easier. If your jaw could drop to the floor, it probably would. Deeper in the drawer laid a purple gadget. You knew very well what it was. You were never brave enough to get one for yourself. Your parents liked to snoop a lot, and just now you realise where you got it from. He didn't use it on anyone, did he? Your friend did not mention any women near Mr Park. Besides, it feels good for men too.
You carefully take out the wand. It looks brand new, the see through film still wrapped around the head. It could help you out. You'd be finished even quicker. Nobody will ever know. You cannot afford it anymore anyway, so wasting an opportunity like this seems like a shame to you.
You put each leg over the armrests, then lay back comfortably. You press a button. The buzzing sound has your stomach filled with excitement. You resume the reading, the wand dangerously close to your crotch. You didn't remove the film, nor will you remove the panties. If someone barges in, you can throw it in the drawer and act stupid.
You bring the buzzing device closer, and closer, until it finally touches your burning clit. A gasp leaves your lips, the first vibrations giving you the satisfaction you needed. You try to focus on the words, yet the toy feels so good against you that you choose to drop the book and enjoy. You throw your head back, sighs and hums leaving your mouth as you work the toy on your clit. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of a single man. He is so close, yet so far. The scent from his vest is helping you get a clearer picture. He is skillfully working his fingers on you, filling you up just right and licking your juices off his hand so sinfully.
You groan. The vibrations are strong against you, and you don't think you can take it. You are not used to it. Fingers will have to do. You blindly search for the button. When you fail to find it, you open your eyes.
"Fuck-"
The rest of the words come out muffled. A hand is placed over your lips, and another one is covering yours on the wand. You shamelessly stare into the eyes of the man you want to fuck so bad. Judging by his gaze, you think he shares the idea. Without a single word, he presses the toy back into your clit. You sigh into his hand, head falling back and your back arching. You try to close your eyes, but a slap to your inner thigh makes you jump.
"Look at me."
You do as you are told. He does not avert his gaze, not even when you beg him to stop. You are feeling overstimulated, even though you did not orgasm.
"Found yourself a book to read?" He asks, eyes falling on it.
You nod. Now you know why the scent was stronger in the room. How long was he there?
"Come here."
He removes his hand from your face. You are taken aback by his demands. It is turning you on even more. With a single swipe, he drops all the pens and notebooks from the desk on the floor.
"You like wearing cute little dresses and parading around the house?"
"I wasn't-"
"I didn't say I didn't enjoy it." He licks his lips. His hands cup your waist, and you feel your body rise up. He places you on the desk, then rests his hands on your knees. In the most erotic way ever, he looks deep into your eyes, then gently spreads your legs. You want to melt into his arms right there. Mr Park steps between your thighs, hands resting on your cheeks.
"You look so innocent. So pretty for me to ruin."
You say nothing. Instead, you get closer to him. You wish to feel his lips. You wish to feel his tongue in many places.
"But you are far from innocent, aren't you? Probably the biggest slut I've ever met."
"Sir-"
"I don't fuck my daughter's friends, you know."
He places a hand on your chest, gently pushing you to lay down on the desk. He climbs on it with one knee, hand still caressing your cheek.
"Didn't promise anything about best friends though."
His lips hover above yours for a while. He is making it painful for you. He is making you beg. And you are ready to go down on your knees for him.
"I want to fucking ruin you, doll. I want to do all the things you've read about." He whispers into your mouth. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, accidentally touching yours too. "I want to pound into you as you read your favorite book and struggle to focus. I want to tear you apart right on this desk."
You moan at his words. You swear you could cum from his dirty talk only.
"Will you let me get a taste of you?"
You nod eagerly. He chuckles, then presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. He is looking into your eyes in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together so you can get some friction.
"I need to hear you, love."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"I'll let you get a taste of me," you repeat. It didn't sound as hot as when he said it. It didn't matter anyway.
Time passed so slow. You had an orgasm to chase, yet Park Seonghwa wouldn't move a single finger.
"Will you let me smear that pretty makeup of yours?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Will you let me stuff you with my cock like a good girl?"
"Y-yes, Sir," you breathe out. The formality is only adding up to the mood. First names are outdone anyway.
"And will you do as I say?"
"Yes," you nod, "yes I will. Anything."
"Anything?" He asks, his eyebrow raised.
"Anything, Sir."
Just when you think he is going to press his lips against yours, he reaches for something behind you. He holds the book in front of you, signaling you to take it.
"Read for me."
Read? It's erotica, not a bedtime story. Yet how can you say no when he asked you so nicely. You clear your throat, then continue where you left off.
"Nicholas held her thighs down to keep her from squirming. His tongue lapped at her clit without stopping. She begged, and begged for - oh!"
The buzzing device is spreading sensation on your clit. You look over the book, and find Mr Park focusing on the space between your legs. He is lazily dragging the wand across your crotch, occasionally pressing into the sensitive bud.
"Keep going," he ordered.
"S-she begged, and begged for more. She had cummed twice on his tongue already. Yet he didn't have enough. He wanted to watch her shake in his arms, beg ‐ ah, ‐ beg for him to stop. Nicholas then inserts his fingers into her, the tips searching for the sweet spot which - f‐fuck - had her groaning with pleasure."
The speed is increased, and your thighs are shaking. You think you're close already.
"I don't think I can handle it much longer." You say.
"I didn't ask."
With that, he increases the speed, this time dragging the toy more forcefully on your crotch. You could spill over the edge at any moment. You want to orgasm with his fingers, not a stupid toy.
"The books isn't going to read itself."
"She held onto his hair for dear life. The pressure was building up at the bottom, and- ah, fuck ‐ and, and-"
"And?"
"I'm going to cum," you cry out.
"I don't remember that being in that scene yet."
"Please-"
"Read."
Your eyes fall back on the words. You just want to lay down and enjoy. Why does he enjoy teasing so much? It's not as fun as it looks or sounds.
"‐and she could feel herself cumming all over his face once again."
You lower the book, just enough so you can look at him. He is focused on his movements. His long, slender fingers are gently pressing your thigh against the wooden surface, while his other hand is working the toy on you. The vibrations change speed and strength, and that's what's keeping you from finishing right in front of him. His tongue wets his lips again, and his lips stay open. He lets out shallow breaths as he watches you clench around nothing.
"Look at you, shamelessly dripping on my work desk." He says, his voice low and raspy. He looks into your eyes, right before he lifts the toy.
He does not break eye contact with you. He climbs on the desk again, spreading your legs with his own and resting his hand on your exposed lower stomach. His hand is hot against your skin. You are ready to give yourself to him in any way.
"You like the book so far?"
"Yes, Sir."
He drags his hand up your stomach, lifting your dress along the way. He takes his sweet time, doing nothing but giving you goosebumps and making your breathing harder. The dress is now scrunched above your breasts, your friend's brand new lingerie completely exposed to his big pupils. It was an ugly colour, but somehow, Mr Park seemed astonished by the view.
"Ah, fuck."
You feel your bra being yanked down, and right after that a warm wet muscle circling over your tense nipples. A gasp leaves your mouth. Then another, and another, with each lick he generously gives you. He squeezes your breasts, massages them, works his tongue on them like it's the most delicious meal in the world. You swear you could orgasm just from this.
Mr Park allows himself to get a bit vocal. He hums around your nipples, gently sucking at them and squeezing the soft flesh around them. He enjoys your squirming under him. He enjoys your moans and gasps. He enjoys your fingers pulling his hair. Most of all, he enjoys how you lift your thighs up and try to meet his crotch, in hopes of getting more relief down there.
He lifts his head from your sensitive breasts, and gets closer to your face. His breathing is heavy against your mouth, and you can almost feel his heart thumping against your chest.
"Tell me, what is your favorite scene from the book?"
"What?" You ask, confused as to why he is insisting on reading and talking about the book.
"You heard me," he speaks into your mouth. He is so close, yet he doesn't dare touch your lips. It's making you extremely frustrating. You wanted to taste the lips that spoke sinful words. You want all of him.
"Well, I kinda liked the first time he fingered her."
"Did you now?" He acts interested. His eyebrow is raised with amusement because of your utter confusion.
"Yeah, I mean, it was hot as fuck. Him fingering her right there in the corner of the club? I swear I'd — oh."
His finger dips inside of you with ease. Your walls swallow it, clench around it, and feel warm against it. Mr Park is lets out a groan. Still, he continues, still looking into your eyes. "What exactly did he do?"
"He made out with her. And fingered her."
"That's all?"
His finger is not moving. It sits there comfortably, enjoying the warmth of your pussy. He licks his lips for the third time that night. He is fighting every urge inside him to just slam his cock into you and ruin you on the table. He wants to enjoy everything you want to give him.
"H-he—" your eyes roll back as he gently presses his finger upwards, "he uses one finger first, to get her used to it. He fingers her slow, and- and‐"
The man slowly pulls out, then equally slowly goes back in. He repeats the motion, and each time it seems slower to you. It is more intense, but you don't think you have the patience.
"He inserts another finger, to stretch her out. He speeds up a bit, and asks her- ah, fuck, asks her if it feels good."
Mr Park leans into your ear. "Does it feel good?"
"Oh, fuck yes."
You feel another finger stretching you our, then another. He watches as his fingers disappear between your tight walls, preparing you so well for him. He speeds up his pace. The sounds of his palm slamming against your pelvis along with your cunt making wet noises is making you arch your back from the table. You shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands grabbing at his shoulders, hair, face, anything.
You are pulled away from the world of ecstasy. You find yourself sitting up straight, your wrists caught in his hand. You are ready to whine about being so close, yet he stops you by pulling you off the desk. The dress falls down your body, covering it once again. The man pulls you off the table, and in a split second, he has you slammed against the bookshelves. You are ready to complain, but he stops you by slamming his palms against the shelves near your head. He looks at you, as if asking if you still want it. You respond by getting closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he captures your lips with his, hungrily sucking on them and biting them. His tongue is gentle against yours, giving it light strokes and circles. Your fingers find themselves tangled into his hair, then down his neck, shoulders, until they finally rest on his chest. He stops your hands from unbuttoning his snow white shirt. He pulls away too quickly for your liking.
You stare with surprise as he drops down on his knees. Fuck, you love the way he looks at you from down there. His fingers graze the skin of your thighs, then gently lift up the dress.
"Hold that for me." He orders in a whisper. You quickly obey, grabbing the material and holding it above your lower stomach. "Then what happened?"
"The guy took her outside, behind the club. He made her stand against the wall, much like me now. And then—"
You now realise what he is doing. He is recreating the scenes you have just read. He is fulfilling your fantasy. He is doing just what you always wanted, and he doesn't even know it. A sudden boost of confidence enters your body. You could drop a few lines that weren't in the book. He wouldn't notice now, would je?
"He ate her out."
"Did he?" He asks, voice dripping with horny thoughts said out loud. "And just how did he do that?"
"He licked every inch of her skin, explored every curve and bump, and sucked on a specific spot."
The man smirks, then pokes his tongue out. You finally get a chance to see exactly how long it is. He licks a warm stripe over your folds and clit. Your knees are wobbly, and you wish you could've stayed sat down. His hands are gripping you thighs, buttocks, and the back of your knees. He is fully focused into absolutely ravishing you.
He mercilessly licks your clit, each swipe making you more sensitive. He works it up and down, then in circles, then flattens the wet muscle so that he can take in all of you. He makes lewd noises, almost slurping at your arousal and folds.
"So heavenly," he groans. He hums as he speeds up his tongue against your clit.
Short moans leave your mouth, and you find yourself gripping your nipples over the shiny fabric. You pull and squeeze his hair between your finger, and you think you'll choke him with your thighs. He doesn't complain once.
"I'm close—" you whimper, white dots already appearing in front of your eyes.
It was as if you said "stop". He stands up, hand resting on your jaw. He lifts your head to look at him. His lips are glistening with your arousal, and you think it's the hottest thing ever. He dips his thumb and index finger into your cheeks, making you hollow them and open your mouth. He leans in, and just when you think he is about to kiss you, two fingers find themselves resting on your tongue. He proceeds to push them back, right at the end of your tongue. You tear up, but don't gag. He is very distracting with his stare.
You close your lips around his fingers, tongue circling around them and wetting them. He takes them out, puts them in his own mouth. He steps back for a bit, and you carefully follow his every movement. He rips the fabric of his shirt, and buttons drop down on the floor. The sight has you dripping down your legs. You don't get a chance to say much, he pushes you against the desk, this time with you facing the surface. You feel the wet digits spread your folds. You then feel a wet trail rolling down your pussy.
Did he—? Did he spit directly on your pussy?
You hear the belt unbuckling, then fabric shuffling. Something hot touches your other cheeks, gently caressing them and leaving a trail of precum. His hand reaches near you, taking the book and opening it where you marked it. It then cups your neck, gently pressing the sides of it just enough to make you dizzy.
"Read for me, doll."
"But-"
He leans down, feeling a bit annoyed at all your protests. "Read for me so I can stuff you with my cock in peace."
You have no other choice but to continue. You feel him circling your folds, but not touching you where you need it.
"Nicholas couldn't believe how long it had been since he last felt her. He pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. His hips forcefully connected with hers— ah!"
You feel him stretch you out. The sweet burning sensation is back, this time actually pleasant. He fills you to the end, hands tightly holding onto your waist and neck. He pulls out, just to slam back into you, much like Nicholas.
"He watched her tits bounce with every hip thrust he m-made, a sight for sore eyes. He fondled her nipples, listened to her moans and watched her face twist wit-th pleasure—"
His hands move your body towards him, making him reach spots that have you gripping the edge of the desk.
"Please let me enjoy this, Mr Park. Oh please, let me."
He pulls your hair, making your back arch and your head fall back. He looks at you from above, hips still working their pace.
"You're saying you're not", thrust, "enjoying this?"
"No, I just—"
"I spoiled you," thrust, "in such a," thrust, "short," thrust, "time."
He proceeds to thrust a few times faster, then slows down. He fucks you nice and gentle, occasionally letting out a grunt or a hiss. He goes deep, making you roll your eyes.
"Look at me," he pulls your hair more.
You whimper, the pleasant pain spreading over your body.
"Look at your pretty makeup running down your cheeks."
He wasn't lying when he said he is going to ruin you. He turns your body over with ease, and you wonder just how strong this man is. Mr Park lifts your legs on his shoulders, the position giving him more access to all the sweet spots. He slams into them with no mercy, abuses every weak spot you have, and fills your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet. They don't help much, since you are equally loud even when he tries to make you gag.
"Want me to fill you up like a stuffed toy?"
"Please," you manage to beg.
Your eyes roll back from pleasure, and you are feeling like you're floating. You are so close, and if he cums inside you, you will cum right then. Mr Park is now moaning. His hands are gripping your waist, slamming your weaker body into his hips. Sweat is decorating his exposed body, and his hair is sticking up everywhere. Watching him focus on chasing his high is something you'll always remember with love. He is progressively getting sloppier and louder, and you just can't wait to see him cum.
You are squeezing and milking him so well, he could go all night long with you. He lets out a prolonged moan as he spills into you, hips still working in and out. You follow after, the feeling of warm seed touching the right places.
"Fuck—" you moan, moving your hips and riding out your high.
The man drops on top of you, cock still deep inside.
You notice the windows are foggy, and the smell of sex is more than present in the room. You don't want to move. You want more. It just isn't enough.
"Ah fuck, I could go for a second round." He admits.
"I can handle it."
"But I can't so please go to sleep or go fuck outside."
Shit.
3K notes · View notes
ilovechuuyasm · 2 months
Text
My random thoughts on how good ler Alastor would be were well received, so I wrote a fanfic based on that
This is a tickle fanfiction, If this is not your area of interest, don't read it! ^^
Ler!Alastor and Lee!Reader - He just wanted to make you smile
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You were just having a bad day, everyone and everything was irritating you since the morning. Plus, Alastor went to a meeting of the rulers, so you were sitting in your room, reading (you don't have TV, I wonder why) and waiting for him to come back and improve your mood.
He appeared out of nowhere and hugged you, scaring you a little "Waah, one day you'll scare me to death!" you squeaked, he sat down next to you, slightly amused.
"Well, hello there, darling!" he greeted you, ignoring your earlier comment "Did something happen?" he tilted his head slightly, looking at your face.
"Nothing special... just a bad day" you murmured and you spread your hands, wanting some affection from him.
"Hm? You want a hug now?" He asked, watching you.
"Yes, please, I've been waiting for you all day" you whispered. Instead of doing it normally, Alastor teleported closer to you and hugged you gently.
"Now smile, sweetheart! You know you are not fully dressed without a smile!" he said enthusiastically. You sighed and smiled fakely for a moment, then returned to your dissatisfied face. "Oh, that's not nice.. " he said, he sounded disappointed, but at the same time you could hear a little teasing in his voice "I don't want my beloved one to look so sad" he added, placing his hand on your side and moving you closer to his embrace, smiling widely. You had a feeling that he was planning something and after a while your hunches were confirmed as you felt a small poke on your side.
"Nahh! Alastor!" you squeaked, trying to escape his embrace, but instead you felt Alastor's shadow (Idk, that black thing lmao) wrap around your body.
"Ohh, you are not going anywhere now, little fawn~" he said, wiggling his fingers in a distinctive way, knowing how it affects you "If you don't want to smile for me, I'll make you~" He announced and you noticed a sadistic gleam in his eyes. He knew you had a thing for tickling, you were the only person he didn't want to actually hurt, but a little torture never hurt anyone, right?
You giggled nervously, when you felt like your body was completely immobilized and you were at the mercy of the radio demon. "Al, I can smile for you now, you know?" you said, grinning at him, trying to defend yourself.
"Hmm" he looked at you, tilting his head, pretending to be thinking "Too lateee~" he hums and you felt his fingers attacking your exposed sides. He didn't even try to start gently or to tease you, he immediately started tickling you hard, and you immediately burst out laughing.
You started squirming as much as you could, which only encouraged him to continue. It's an amazing feeling when the victim wants to escape but is unable and has to endure everything Alastor wants to do to them, he loved it. His hands roamed over your body, looking for the most sensitive places so he could torture you a bit, while you laughed, struggling to take each breath as this demon wouldn't give you even a moment's rest.
"A-! Ahahah! Alahaha-!" you tried to say his name.
He leaned over you, continuing to tickle your stomach now "Enjoying yourself?" He whispered in his teasy tone.
"NOHOHO!" you squealed.
"Oh what a shame!" He answered "Because I'm not finished with you yet~" he made eye contact with you and started tickling your ribs more aggressively. Tears started to well up in your eyes from laughing, and the laughter became more and more hysterical. His smile widened "Could you scream a little bit louder for me~?"
You began to squirm and whimper as the sensation took over your entire body, you felt so vulnerable.
"ALASTORR! NYAHAHAHYAH!" you screamed, you felt Alastor dig his fingers into your knees and then your thighs. You wanted to kick your legs, but they were immobilized, so all you could do was continue laughing hysterically. He enjoyed your screams, they were a sign to him that he was taking good care of you "FUHUHUCK!" the curse left your mouth.
"Oh my, what a mess of words!" said Alastor "You shouldn't say that, you little fawn~" he hums, grabbing your ankle, you gained a second of respite.
"LEHEHEAVE ME ALOHOHONE!" you squealed when his finger ran over your foot.
"Didn't you tell me earlier that you've been waiting for me all day?" he asked, tickling your poor sole with two fingers now. You groaned in response and soon started laughing again. He knew you wouldn't answer him now, so he spoke again "Ohh, you are so adorable, how entertaining!" he started tickling you mercilessly again, quickly running his fingers along the entire length of your sole.
"AHAHALA-!" you cried "ALASTOOOR!"
"Aww, i could just eat you up!" he exclaimed, which sounded truly disturbing coming from him, he let go of your ankle and looked at you as you caught your breath "But I won't, because i still want you here with me HaHa!" Alastor said such weird things sometimes, and honestly that was one of the things you loved about him "Speaking of eating you~" He hiked up your shirt, which was unexpected, and leaned down, glaring at you. You let out a long, very high-pitched moan when he blew raspberry on your stomach. If that wasn't enough, his fluffy, long ears nuzzled your chin. You started giggling uncontrollably again. Very gently, he began to nibble the skin on your belly and sides, even though his teeth are quite sharp, he somehow managed to make it tickle mercilessly.
After a while, his hands were on your sides again and he tickled you so bad. Your screams and laughter filled the entire room, because it was so intense.
"NOHOHOH! STAHAHAP!" you yelped. You couldn't see what affected you more, his merciless fingers, the sweet raspberries amd nibbles on your belly or those ears! You felt so overwhelmed, and Alastor seemed happy with what he was doing.
When he finally took pity on your fate, stopped tickling you, he removed the shadow surrounding you and looked at you with a huge, satisfied smile. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in exhaustion.
"I hate you.." you murmured.
"HaHa! I surely doubt it!" he answered and stroked your hair "You should appreciate how merciful I was anyway Hah!" his smile widened again.
"You are so creepy sometimes" you smirked slightly "But i guess, that's why i love you"
"I hope I managed to make you feel better" he said "Do you need anything, fawn?"
"Uhh, just water, but I can go get it myself"
"Then we can go together" Alastor decided, offering you his hand. You smiled at how quickly he could go from being cruel to being so sweet and you grabbed his hand.
You didn't expect that everyone would notice your red face and disheveled hair, but they did. Charlie was terrified that he had done something bad to you, but Angel Dust didn't forget to mention that from the screams he could tell that you two had a lot of fun. You didn't know if it would be more embarrassing to admit that Alastor was just tickling you or to let them think you were f*cking..
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zeegaazeegaah · 1 year
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Hii, can you make a Gavi imagine about him being jealous or something like that, it would be amusing to read. I love your work, thank you!💕
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A/N: Before I begin I request you people to not put imagines under his name tag. Someone recommended it. I really appreciate it but please keep the tags all fanfiction related (i.e. - imagine, - x reader, - blurb). I do not want what I do light-heartedly and as a hobby, to reach the wrong audience. Please. None of us want that.
xxx
jealousy; gavi
word count: 963
Gavi enters his house to see her shoes near the doorstep. One thing about his girlfriend is that she is very serious about cleanliness. Even though she never stays over, she makes sure to keep his house neat whenever she can. He had asked her to not bother but she insisted it helped her get her mind off things that stress her.
He is late today. She never really stays over for that long. Another thing about her is her seriousness about her future. She takes her uni life undeniably seriously. Always arrives at his home an hour or two earlier than him and gets as much studying done as possible yet she never misses a chance to spend time with him whenever she can. He admires this trait of hers.
Usually, they spend whatever time both of them have by cuddling and making out and have debate on silly things that don't matter but she always makes sure to leave his place before midnight. However, it's about 1 am and her shoes near the doorstep imply she is still there.
At the unusual sight, he tilts one head to the side, eyes narrowing while doing so. He is visibly confused. She would've greeted him normally but now she is nowhere to be seen. He slowly unzips his jacket and drops his backpack. Something tells him to tiptoe in his own house and so he does.
He tiptoes into the living area. He doesn't notice at first but then his eyes land on her head peeking from the couches. It's as if she was trying to hide from him but what he notices has his mouth wide open. She not only has his controller in her hands (he doesn't mind at all if that's what it seems like) but also has her eyes glued to the gigantic screen before her which shows what she is doing. She is not only playing FIFA but it seems she had bought Pedri before.
He lets out an amusing scoff, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall to watch her play for a couple of minutes more, initially assuming she would notice at some point but she didn't. She is way too immersed into the game.
This led him to walk up to her and plopping down on the couch as if nothing happened. To which, she jumps and turns the screen off before them like a reflex action. She lets out an awkward laugh and proceeds to make an awful attempt at acting normal. "Ah, you're back. I was waiting for you."
Gavi observes the entire ordeal. He is amused but he is equally jealous as well. He can't help it for some reason. She bought Pedri. Did she buy him? He sends her an overly sweet smile before turning the screen on and pointing at it, "Did you buy me?"
She grimaces before replying. "Well, if you know I didn't, why do you ask?"
The stressed expression on her face has to be the most adorable sight he has witnessed in a while. And that makes him even more jealous. Why'd his adorable girlfriend not only not buy him but buy his best friend?
He wiggles his brows at her, "Why Pedri?"
"Ew, dude. You're my boyfriend, what's with that face?"
"I'm merely curious." He shrugs.
"Well, I am curious. You talk about your best friend all the time and I wanted to observe his-"
"Through a game?" He cuts her off with a chortle.
"Yeah?" She narrows her eyes at him, not liking the way he is behaving. "Do you want me to go up to him randomly and tell him 'Hey boyfriend's best friend, can you show me some kicks?' like asking him to do a twirl for me?"
He bursts out laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach at some point as it starts cramping. "You could just show up at our practice one day-"
"Absolutely not." She flinches away.
"Why?" He presses on, curious to know the reason.
"It's awkward!" She exclaims as if it's the most obvious thing ever.
He finds himself breaking into a small smile. His eyes not leaving her face as his cheeks heat up. One of his hands reaches behind her back and begins to draw circles. Her eyes crinkle at the gentle gesture, a soft smile forming on her face as he looks back at him.
Then he remembers he was jealous just a moment ago and fakes a cough while leaning away. "You still should've bought me."
Gavi doesn't know his lips form into a pout as he says that. He is not aware of how cute he is and can get more so as time goes by. This time she looks at him amused and leans towards him. Her hands reach to clasp his larger hands in hers and draw on his palms. He looks down and can't help but smile before looking into her eyes. She holds eye contact with him before leaning to cushion his lips between hers.
It's soft when he tugs her bottom lip between his. He smiles when he has to chase after her lips every time she breaks away to either gasp or giggle. It's full of admiration when they hold their gazes the entire time and don't think of rushing for once. It's full of love and silent understanding when they finally break away and he envelopes her in a hug, resting his head on her shoulders. It's full of peace, even for just a short amount of time when she reaches to rake her fingers in his hair and his eyes close as he breathes in the smell of her shampoo.
He really can't stay jealous of her. Not at all.
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icarusignite · 1 year
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An Eye for an Eye (part 1)
Pairing: Aemond x OC! Daenys Varyon-Targaryen
Summary: Daenys Velaryon-Targaryen is the oldest child of Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon, but she shares the same true lineage as her brothers Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. Having grown up beside Aemond Targaryen, she has become a friend, a companion, and eventually a beloved wife to him. But when the man she loves commits an unforgivable crime, she must choose between her beloved and her family.
parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /  5 / 6 / 7 / Future parts: MASTERLIST
A/N: I have seen so many edits of the scene where Vhagar chomps down on poor baby Lucerys and Aemond looks shaken and it got me in my feels so I thought I'd try my hand at my first fanfiction. Aemond is probably a bit OOC but I was craving regretful soft Aemond so here we are. This is also pretty canon divergent lol. This fic is also available on AO3
Word count: 1837
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Daenys Targaryen walked the halls of the castle lost in thought. The past few days had been quite strenuous, with the death of her grandfather and the crowning of Queen Alicents son Aegon. Daenys yearned to return to Dragonstone to her mother, the rightful heir, and support her true claim. However, her access to the dragon pit had been forbidden and she was barely ever allowed to leave the castle unchaperoned. Someone was always watching her every move and she was beginning to feel stifled. Perhaps, she thought, a part of her stayed to try and convince her husband to join her mother's cause. It was a laughable thought really, because how could she of all people ever get Aemond to turn his back on his family?
They had been friends since childhood and when he had asked his father, the late King Viserys, to offer for her hand in marriage, Daenys was more than happy to accept, even if her mother was a little reluctant. Even her relationship with the Queen had once been one of companionship and tenderness, but the recent crowning of Aegon had placed a strain on their relationship. Daenys had once been Alicient's favourite of all of Rhaenyra's children, so much so that she had been the one to convince Rhaenyra regarding her betrothal to Aemond, speaking of alliances and powerful unions. It certainly helped that Daneys looked the part of a true Targaryen, unlike her beloved brothers whose parentage was always put into question. Perhaps, Alicent had taken advantage of Daenys's fondness for Aemond to keep her in King's Landing for a while longer as opposed to running off to Dragonstone to her mother. The royal family needed to present a united front during such a time of chaos. 
As she reached the throne room, Daenys heard a commotion. There was yelling, a frustrated sigh, and then furious whispering. Daenys could barely make out the words but she could swear her name being said, along with her brother Lucerys's. Why would he be here, she wondered, but her heart raced with anticipation. Perhaps her mother had sent for her. The Hightowers couldn't very well keep her here if her mother officially summoned her and sent her brother to bring her back to Dragonstone.
With a skip in her step, she entered the throne room. However, her brother was nowhere to be seen and she was greeted by a strange scene. Otto Hightower and the dowager queen were engaged in heated whispers while Aegon sat on the iron throne laughing. Her eyes scanned the room and eventually landed on her husband. Aemond Targaryen looked lost. His eyepatch was missing, his eyes were wide in what looked like equal parts of disbelief and horror. His hair was mussed like he had just been out riding Vhagar. Something must have disturbed him while he was out, though Daenys couldn't think of a single thing that would possibly scare the mighty Aemond Targaryen. Worry gnawed at her either way as she rushed to his side to take his trembling hands in her own.
Her entrance silenced the entire room. Even Aegon halted his maniacal laughter. When the queen's eyes landed on her, they softened immediately. Aemond on the other hand froze and went pale. He refused to meet her eyes and pulled his hands away.
"Aemond are you alright?" she spoke gently, trying not to startle him further, "what's going on?"
At the sound of her voice, Aemond flinched. Aegon smirked.
"Tell her what happened. Go ahead. It is the best news I've heard in a long time," he crowed with pleasure.
At the sound of everyone's silence, Aegon laughed even louder.
"Daenys my dear, pay Aegon no mind. His majesty simply has too much on his mind. 'Tis nothing," Alicent said gently, coming over to put her hand comfortingly on Daenys's shoulder.
"Oh for God's sake, stop being such cowards. Tell her the truth. Why don't you tell her brother?" Aegon turned to Aemond. "Tell your beloved what you did to her brother!"
Daenys froze. Her brother? Is that why they were talking about him earlier? Had something happened to him? Her heart twisted as she tried to meet Aemond's eyes. Eyes that remained glued to the floor.
"My dear there's been an accident..." Alicent tried again before Aegon interrupted.
"Why let mother fight your battles against your lady wife Aemond? You seemed perfectly capable of fighting for yourself against that Strong Bastard. An eye for an eye was it then?"
Daenys's jaw dropped as she whirled towards Aemond with fury in her eyes.
"You fought with my brother? Why would you do that? Was that the accident then? Did you hurt him? Where is he now?"
"At the bottom of the..." Aegon stopped with a scowl as Aemond glared daggers at him.
"Your brother...uh he... he had an accident and unfortunately he didn't make it," Alicent whispered.
Oh.
Oh.
All the fire went out inside of her and Daenys slumped to her knees on the floor. Aemond tried to approach her, speaking for the first time since she entered the room.
"Daenys, listen..."
She flinched away from his touch as he reached for her.
"Don't," she whispered, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
"Daenys please," he pleaded.
Aegon was clearly enjoying this. He grinned at his brother.
"We shall have a grand feast for you, Kinslayer. Finally rid of that bastard. As king perhaps I shall gift you the Driftmark seat. You may rule the seas you earned with your lady love," he winked.
Aemond's eyes remain fixed on Daenys as she slowly turned towards him.
"How... how did it..." she could barely get the words out.
"It was an accident, I swear it. I tried to stop Vhagar but she wouldn't listen. I promise it was an accident," Aemond insisted, still trying to reach for her, even as she pulled farther away.
"Oh quit being modest brother. Tell her how you earned the name Kinslayer. Finally going after the bastard who took your eye. You were even kind enough to give him the choice of carving out his own eye. A courtesy I remember he did not offer you. It was only after he so rudely denied you your repayment that you went after him. As king, I declare it to be a fair game to be sure," Aegon winked at Daenys, recounting the entire tale of how Aemond gave chase to Lucerys and his dragon in Storm's End. His grin grew wider as her expression grew more horrified. 
"If you are too upset with my brother to warm his bed, you know where to find me, don't you? After all, it was his dragon that took a nice big bite out of your brother."
A strangled cry of horror and disbelief escaped Daenys's lips as she glared at Aemond. 
"You are still on about that? After all these years, you still haven't let it go?"
"He took my eye!" Aemond protested.
"He was 5! A child!"
“And what of me? I was a child too. A child who lost his eye and had to live with this hideous disfigurement for the rest of my life!”
“I'm sorry for that. Truly I am. I even offered you my eye as retribution for what my brother did. He was a child and didn’t know better. That still didn’t give you the right to take his life.”
"I... I'm telling you it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I just got angry and wanted to teach him a lesson. I gave chase only as a prank, to scare him a little. I didn't mean for him to get hurt."
"He was still a child Aemond! You chased my little brother and his baby dragon across Storm's End on that monstrosity you ride. What did you expect?" Daenys sobbed, tears now streaming down her face. "You killed him. You and your stupid giant brute of a dragon killed my baby brother!"
"Daenys, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen," Aemond pleaded. He knelt next to her and tried to take her into his arms as her entire body seemed to vibrate with grief and rage. 
It hurt him to see her this way, coming apart at the seams. She pulled away from him violently, taking deep shuddering breaths. 
"Stay the hell away from me!" she shrieked. 
Aemond lowered his hands, chest aching. He looked at his mother beseechingly until she knelt beside Daenys. 
"Shhhh my darling. It's going to be ok. I'm sorry. He's sorry. We're sorry," Alicent soothed.
"NO!" Daenys screamed. "It won't be alright. My brother is dead. My brother is dead!"
Daenys doubled over, her insides burning. She pressed her forehead against the cool marble of the throne room and willed it to swallow her. Great sobs wracked her body and she pushed away the multitudes of arms that tried to hold her, to pull her up and carry her away. Then it became hard to breathe and when she started choking on her own frenzied cries, she allowed herself to slip into the darkness that hovered just at the edge of her consciousness.
Alicent looked at the girl who lay slumped on the floor in pity. First, by crowning Aegon as King and now by killing one of Rhaenyra's sons, her family had officially broken any and all bonds with Rhaenyra’s. This meant war to be sure. She did feel sorry for Daenys though. She cared for the girl more than she cared to admit. She was the only one of the ladies at court who didn't give her son Aemond a hard time over his missing eye, who wouldn't look at him with fear or disgust. She had always been kind to him, and Alicent knew her son's heart belonged wholly to the girl. It was a pity that it had come to this. While the girl herself posed no real threat to Alicent or the crown, especially as Aemond's bride, her family did. 
"Take your wife up to your room Aemond. She needs to rest, the poor girl has worn herself out," Alicent gestured to Daenys's limp body that lay at their feet.
Aemond gathered her up in his arms as carefully as he could and made his way to their shared room. He looked at her with eyes full of remorse. He never meant to hurt her like this. He supposed the cruel part of him wanted to hurt Lucerys, but the part of him that loved Daenys was far greater and so all he was left with was a feeling of emptiness and self-loathing. He wondered if they could ever come back from this. If she would ever forgive him for this crime. He wondered if he even deserved her forgiveness. 
As he gently tucked her into bed, he couldn't resist placing a gentle kiss upon her troubled brow. She whimpered in her slumber.
"I'm sorry Daenys."
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starogeorgina · 6 months
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Violent delights
Warnings: Swearing, character death
Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon/reader
1.10
Notes: For the sake of fanfiction, let's pretend it only takes a few days to travel north 🤣
“Men like Aegon never change. They will always be monsters.”
“Precisely, that is why this plan will work.”
You twiddle with the ring that sits on your middle finger, a gift from your husband not long after you got married. The only time you’d taken it off was when your fingers swelled so much during your pregnancy with Rhaenys; they had become so puffy that the ring had begun to cut into your finger. You remember how happy you were when it finally fit on again because of how sentimental it was. Now, looking at it, you feel nothing but guilt.
Teary-eyed, you look at your stepfather and ask, “What if it goes wrong? What if I don’t ever get to see my children, mother, or Jace again?”
Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose. Lucery's death has affected him just as much as the rest of you. He loved Luke as if he were his own, but you feared his thirst for revenge was preventing him from thinking clearly. “I love Jacaerys too much to risk leaving him to raise our five children alone. I will help you seek justice any other way I can, but I cannot do what you are asking. I’m not strong enough to do what you are asking on my own. I’m sorry.”
Daemon places both hands on your shoulders and gives them a comforting squeeze. “My sweet Lyarra, don’t ever apologize for putting your family first.”
Although they aren’t unkind, his words upset you further. It was hard for you to process that, Lucerys was your family.
You awaken to the sound of your son's soft voice. You open your eyes to see him pointing out the carriage window excitedly, “Muña look, it’s Vermax.”
Groggily, you lean forward and see your husband’s dragon, Vermax, curled up into a ball on top of a small hill. A knot forms in your stomach. In different circumstances, seeing Jacery after spending time apart would have set your heart ablaze, but you felt dread. Lucerys wasn’t only his brother but Jace’s best friend, and telling him what happened would break his heart.
“Do you think we will be well received, princess?” Clara asks. “It’s known that northerners are suspicious of outsiders.”
It had crossed your mind how the north would accept a Targaryen when Jacaerys first left, given your very different customs, but the Starks were known for their loyalty, and since they had already sworn to your mother, you didn’t think they would break faith. However, you also didn't think they would understand siblings marrying each other.
“Our banners the right colours,” you say. Trying to lighten the tension, you add, “Cregan Stark isn’t much older than Prince Jacaerys, so I imagine they will have bonded already.”
Vermax suddenly lets out a loud screech while looking up at the sky; perhaps the dragon had spotted Viserion. It seems as if Viserion could sense your worry about being spotted, so he flew so high up into the sky that no human could see him from the ground. You had remained in disguise throughout your journey, which hadn’t been easy given that you had five children with you. There had been many stops and carriage changes along the way, and only when Winterfell came into sight did you allow for your house banners to be lowered to one side of the carriages.
Under different circumstances, you would have loved to travel to Winterfell and experience seeing your children walk in the snow for the first time. Or flying on your dragon and seeing how beautiful it looked from above, but that wasn’t how things worked out. For the only thing that mattered was finding jacery, then somewhere safe for your children to stay while you went back and fought for your mother's birth right.
Soon as you arrived within the gates of Winterfell, you were greeted by many lords and ladies who were fascinated by your appearances, mainly because the dye in your hair was wearing off, giving the illusion that you and your children had multi-coloured hair along with your unusual eye colour. Lady Gilliane, Cregan’s mother, escorted you inside immediately and had hot meals brought for you all while you waited for rooms to be ready for you as Jacery's belongings were being moved. The good lady had informed you that most hunts lasted a few days.
You sit across from Lady Gilliane, with Clara beside you, while the children sit at the table behind you. The three of you make small talk; you were intrigued by the stories of the north, mainly the one including direwolves. During mid-conversation, Clara whispers into your ear, “Princess, your milk is coming through.”
You glance down at your chest and see dark spots. Mortified, you hand Clara Daemon and put the thick, large cloak back on before taking him back into your arms.
“Would you like for me to send for a wet nurse?” Lady Gillian asks quietly. “You must be tired after all that traveling, and the nights are long here.”
At first, you were hesitant to accept, but given how kind she has been, you accepted. “Thank you, Lady Gilliane; you have been most kind to us.”
The quarters you were staying in had connecting rooms, which was quite pleasant. It meant you could keep an eye on your children without disturbing their sleep. All of your sons and Rhaenys were exhausted and had fallen asleep not long after they lay down. Rhaenys was currently snuggling into the middle of the bed you’d be sleeping in peacefully.
Your eldest daughter remains awake. You sit on the floor, feeling the soft fur beneath you as you braid Aemma’s hair. “You’ve been awfully quiet; is something wrong? Do you feel well?”
Slowly, she nods.
The last few days had been hard on your children; they weren’t used to being crammed together in such a small space, and it was difficult trying to explain why you had to go. You told them their Kepa had missed them so much that they were going to surprise him, which seemed to please them, but Aemma had hardly spoken since you left Dragonstone. Something else was going on with her; you knew she was deeply troubled by something but was too afraid to say what it was.
Perhaps she had learned of Lucery's death, which you had chosen not to tell them. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them they had lost their beloved uncle and then drag them around while trying to find safety for them. “My sweet,” you say, finishing the braid. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me; you know that I’ll always love you, no matter what.”
Not answering you, she toys with threads of fur.
“Aemma, I cannot fix things if I don’t know what’s wrong,” you say softly.
Sighing, Aemma shuffles around so she’s facing you. Her eyes are wide and full of worry. “I don’t want to live in the red keep.”
You let out a loud gasp. “What?”
“I heard you and grandsire talking. You were crying, and he said Aegon would come to claim me. I'm a bastard, and people would say Aegon is my father.”
You watch as tears build in her eyes. You feel absolutely awful that she has overheard you and Daemon talking. She must have snuck out of her bedchambers and into yours and only picked up part of the conversation. You needed to now have a conversation that she was far too young for, but your daughter needed to know the truth, at least some of it.
“I don’t want to go with him,” she cries. “I want to stay with you on Dragonstone. Please don’t give me away, muña.”
You struggle to hold your own tears back. “Do you remember I told you that I lived in the red keep when you were born?”
“Yes,” she answers, cuddling by your side.
“When I was younger, it was arranged that I’d marry Aegon for political purposes. I lived in the red keep at the time, and then I fell pregnant with you.”
“And Rhaegar.”
“And Rhaegar,” you say, smiling before kissing the side of her head. Thinking about your son always hurt, but even more so now seeing how big his twin was. “I was very unhappy living in the keep and didn’t want you to feel the same way, so not long after you were born, I returned home to Dragonstone. But that meant I had to divorce Aegon.”
“So Aegon is my father?”
“Biologically, yes, but Jacaerys has loved you from the moment he held you in his arms and always considered you his daughter. And I promise he would never ever let anyone take you from us.”
“Would he frighten them away on Vermax?”
“He would burn the whole world to the ground if it meant you were safe.”
“So he won’t ever let Aegon take me?”
“No, sweet girl, he wouldn’t. You and your siblings are our whole being. Me and Jacaerys both share the blood of the dragon with our Velaryon and Targaryen heritage, which we share with you. You are our daughter, and you are so loved and that’s the only thing that truly matters.”
She wraps her arms around your neck and hugs you. You stay like that until the door slowly opens and your husband walks into the bedchamber. Aemma remains still in your arms for a moment before letting go of you and running to him and loudly yelling , “Kepa.”
You feel a wave of relief hearing her call him that. “Jace,” you wince, feeling pain in your stomach as you stand again. You suddenly notice the person standing behind him and assume it’s Cregan. “Lord Stark. I didn’t think you would be back for a few days.”
“When a dragon landed on our campsite, we decided it was time to head back,” Cregan chuckles.
Since Vermax was already at Winterfell when you arrived, you knew it was your own dragon who had ruined their hunt. Viserion definitely knew how to make an entrance.
“It’s an honor to meet you, princess. Prince Jacaerys has talked about you nonstop.”
“It’s an honor to be here. The stories I’ve heard don’t do Winterfell justice; your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you, princess.” He smiles watching as Jace picks your daughter up for a hug. “I shall leave you to rest; I only came to show the prince how to find his new quarters.”
As soon as Cregan is out of the room, Jace asks. “Lyarra, why is Aemma’s hair dark?”
You can see the fury in Jace’s eyes. He knew something was seriously wrong. You clear your threats. “Aemma, can you please go through to your bed?”
Aemma kisses Jace on the cheek before going through to the room she would be sharing with her brothers.
Jacaerys stares at you, waiting for you to answer; his eyes are wide and wild-like. You are glad your other daughter's snores alert him to her presence, so he lowers his voice. You lead him into another part of the quarts, where you begin to tell him but struggle to get the words out. “We dyed our hair so it was safer for us to travel without being spotted. The war has gotten worse and—”
“I knew from the moment I saw Viserion something was wrong. Is it our mother?”
You step closer to him and place your hand on his chest. Struggling to hold back tears, you say, “I’m so sorry, Jace, but Lucerys is gone. Aemond killed him.”
He steps back and begins frantically shaking his head. “No, no, he can’t be dead.”
“When Luke arrived at Storm’s end, Aemond was already there. Aemond threatened Luke, and Lord Borros did nothing to protect our brother—Luke fled and tried to come home,” you sob. “He tried to come home, but Aemond caught up to him on Vhagar.”
Jace stumbles back against the wall, as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. He remains silent for some time, then eventually says, “That doesn’t explain why you came here.”
Seeing the pain in his face, you try to spare him from it anymore. “It can wait till morning, my love.”
“Tell me why you came here.”
“It won’t—”
“Just tell me!” Tears stream from his bloodshot eyes. Jacaerys sinks further to the floor, crying and mourning in a way you’ve never seen from him before. “Please, just tell me.”
“The greens are coming for Aemma.”
In a blink of an eye, Jacaerys is out of the room, and you’re left on your own.
You are still sobbing into the pillow you’re holding close to your chest to muffle your tears when Jacaerys returns. The candles have burned out, so it’s difficult for you to see him, but you can hear him undressing before feeling the dip in the bed beside you.
“I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he whispers. He feels for the bed to make sure he doesn’t crush your daughter before crawling in beside you. “And I’m sorry for leaving; I just needed a moment to get my head around...” You feel his wet cheek press against your shoulder. “I can’t believe he is gone.”
You understood Jace’s anger wasn’t directed at you; he was just torn up over Luke’s death. “Where did you go?”
“I went and spoke to Cregan. He has agreed to send an army south to fight for our mother.”
At least something had gone right.
“He had also agreed for our children to stay in Winterfell while we returned home to deal with the usurper. And in returning; I have betrothed Rhaenys to his son Rickon.”
You swallow thickly and say, “Oh.”
“I know you wanted to wait until they were older, but this could not wait. I needed to secure their safety.”
“I understand, my prince,” you say, kissing the back of his hand. “I’m just surprised; usually it’s the firstborn's hand that’s asked for.”
“I told him Aemma was already betrothed.”
Being careful not to wake your sleeping daughter; you spin around so you can face your husband. Even though it was dark, you were still trying to study his facial expression. “She is?”
“She will be betrothed to Aethan, our firstborn son. That way, nobody will ever try to usurp her for being a woman or question that she’s my rightful heir.”
You kiss him on the forehead. “When are we returning home?”
“I think we should wait a couple of days; make sure the children have settled and you have rested well.”
Jacaerys voice cracks as he talks; he rests his head against your chest, and you can feel him shaking. You stroke his hair as tears fall from his eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through this.”
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joe--bro · 8 months
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Maybe lemon x reader relationship headcanons?👉🏾👈🏾
OR
Lemon x assassin!reader if they had a kid?
Ooh! I love those ideas, how about I do both🤭 ill do the Headcannons on this one and write the second prompt, because those are great and I would love to write both. Get ready for this one though, because its LONG!
Dating Lemon Would Include...
[Lemon (Bullet Train) x GN! Reader]
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[Notes; The reader is a civilian, it starts out as sort of a "talking" to eachother sort of thing all the way to full on relationship. After a while you learn about him being an assassin.]
[Warnings; Swearing and mentioning of Killing is about it, but why do I even bother to put warnings on these bullet train fics?]
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When your first talking to him, hes one of the biggest sweethearts.
I feel you two met either at a bakery, you know how he was talking about good lemon flavoured things like the Lemon meringue pie and the Lemon drizzle cake?
Yeah he went to go get those things to prove Tangerine wrong (pretend he didn't die on the bullet train yk,) that they were infact good and you just so happened to be the one making the baked goods and threw in some lemon bread because lemon flavoured sweets and such happened to be your favourite.
Unrealistic ik, but for fanfiction sake, just say otherwise.
Definitely develops a thing for you after going there every once and a while for some more of that lemon bread, and eventually asks for your number.
You two talk for a while, just sending sweet little messages to eachother and such.
Lemon never shuts up about you, and Tangerine gets sick of his shit very fast. He never thought he would rather prefer for Lemon to be talking about Thomas and Friends ever in his life.
Nonetheless though, Tan is happy that his brother is happy.
When Lemon finally asks you out when he's not busy, he takes you on such a nice date.
Like, this man has money from all of these missions he goes on, so he takes you to a nice place and even offers to buy you some really nice attire if you don't have any.
Such a gentleman the whole date, he's holding the door open for you, pushing your seat in for you, letting you order first, paying for you, oh my lord he's such a sweetheart.
You're left a blushing mess the whole date. He knows just the right things to say, he's making jokes the whole date.
When you finally end the night, you give him a little peck on the cheek and man is he a mess.
Poor thing is trying to keep eye contact with you and not immediately flush or stutter too much.
When he makes it home he's just absolutely ecstatic and he rambles on to Tangerine about everything like a teenage girl.
Hes just giggling and kicking his feet the whole night.
After a couple more dates you two finally become a thing.
You two are constantly over at eachothers places, that is, when the two of you aren't busy with work and such.
The first time Tangerine meets you he acts passive aggressive and is kind of being a dick, but when Lemon leaves the room to go and go something like take a call or whatever he's just different.
You were at the door of Lemon's flat, he wanted to hang out with you but asked to go over to his place so you can meet his brother.
You'd admit, you were a bit nervous. It wasn't his parents or anything but nonetheless it was family and was still slightly scary.
You lift your hand up to knock on the door, giving two loud enough knocks so either of them in the house can hear.
Knock, knock.
After a few moments of waiting, your lovely boyfriend opens the door for you.
"Y/n, Darling, you're here! Come on in, love," Lemon says, greeting you with a wide grin, gesturing for you to go into his shared flat.
You walk in and step to the side as you wait for Lemon to shut the door and walk in himself.
"Who the fuck is that?" You hear an accent, similar to Lemon's speak out in an annoyed tone.
"Oh, right. Y/n, thats my brother, Tangerine. Tan, this is Y/n, my partner," Lemon says, holding the small of your back as he introduces the both of you to eachother.
"So this is the person you've been talking about non-fuckin'-stop?" Tangerine says, eyes still glued to the television playing the current football game.
You turn to see Lemon is wide eyed and his cheeks are burning a darker shade.
"You're being a bloody bellend right now Tan,"
You felt slightly uncomfortable. You knew siblings fought, you had siblings yourself and you fought quite a bit and said some nasty things to eachother, but never in front of others.
The two continued to bicker and fight for a few minutes before Lemon's phone started ringing.
"Shit, sorry love, its my boss, I'll take this and be right back okay, darling?" Lemon says, giving you a kiss on your cheek before quickly going into the other room to take the call.
"Okay, now that he's gone, I've got a few things I've gotta say to you," Tangerine says, muting the television and getting up from his seat on the couch, walking towards you.
"First things first; I'd like to clarify I don't dislike you, but I also don't want Lem to know I don't hate you because it'll cause him to have you over constantly, and I like my peace to myself sometimes," Tangerine clarifies.
You nod in agreement to what he's saying.
"Secondly; I also want to let you know if you ever fuckin' do anything to upset or hurt him in any way, I'll make sure to personally find you and kick your ass, alright?" He says, a more serious tone evident in his voice and body language.
"Erm, yeah I wasn't really planning on doing anything terrible to him.." You say, slightly frightened by his tone.
"Great! Now being we didn't get to properly introduce ourselves; I'm Tangerine," Tangerine says, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand for you to shake.
You gradually accept it and introduce yourself properly, giving him a firm shake.
He walks back to his seat on the couch and unmutes the television, just then Lemon walks out of the other room.
"Sorry, Y/n, I had to take that. Hopefully Tan kept his fuckin' gob shut and didn't say some shit to you," Lemon says, making his way to your side as he gently caresses your arm, glaring at Tangerine.
"I didn't say fuckin' shit, Lem!" Tangerine shouts from the couch.
Afterwards you and Tan become pretty close though. Occasionally talking to eachother about random things when Lemon was busy with something else in the other room.
Sometimes Lemon will leave on purpose with no real reason just to hear you and his brother getting along. It makes him happy you two are comfortable with eachother.
Man, when he finally tells you what his job is after about a year of being together, you are TORN.
You don't know how to react honestly. Of course you still love him but on top of that, the person that you've loved for a little over a year now kills people for his job.
Nonetheless though, you eventually get a little bit more accepting of it. You love Lemon and you would rather be accepting of his career choice than loose such a truly sweet man.
Now after missions sometimes he'll come to your flat all bruised and bloodied up with Tangerine and you'll tend to their injuries.
Most of the time Lemon will stay the night with you and you'll just fall asleep cuddling eachother as Tangerine angrily sleeps on the couch.
You honestly consider upgrading to a two bedroom flat so Tan finally has his own bed for when he's forced to stay at your place.
Eventually that happens, only because Lemon finally moves in with you and you two decide that a spare bedroom for Tangerine to have when he's over would be nice for him.
I like to think he'd be a great cook. Like one of those types where one partner is good at cooking and terrible at baking, whereas the other is good at baking and terrible at cooking.
Expect him to make you breakfast for you on your birthday and take it to you in bed, he loves doing that shit for you.
You make him cakes and such for his birthday. For your one year anniversary of being together you made this huge lemon cake with lemon buttercream. You ended up with a ton of it left so you sent some to Tangerine, he loved it but wouldn't let you and Lemon know that as he was still insisting lemon flavoured anything was awful.
Lemon is such a sop for you though. He doesn't think you could do anything wrong in his eyes.
Bonus headcannons time!
His favourite places to kiss you are your cheeks and lips. Man is he a good kisser too.
He loves it especially when you two are making out and you start playing with his hair.
He loves any sorts of physical touch. He likes to hug you from behind, he'll sometimes even pick you up and twirl you around.
Very clingy but he knows boundaries and if you seem just a tad bit annoyed or overwhelmed he'll make sure to give you your space.
You two have had like, 2 fights your entire relationship and it was for some more serious things, totally understandable.
You two make such a great pair for eachother though. Tangerine points out how you two are "sickly sweet," and will fake gag like a child or roll his eyes at you two sometimes.
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Right, so I went a little overboard on this one, but how can I not, I mean its Lemon! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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Send in your requests for stories! Look at my introduction to see if anything you like is something I'll write, and DM me for further questions!
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You've never lost me! -Part 1
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Bokuto Kotaro has no clue about women; he got bored of his girlfriends so easily, he completely stopped dating and concentrated on his volleyball player career. However on one of his matches, he sees someone from the past...Memories flood his brain and one thing leads to another. After many years of confusion Kotaro is ready to welcome his long lost soulmate.
TW: female reader! alcohol consumption, drunk Bokuto, grammar mistakes
WC: 2301
AN: I'm planning this to be a twoshot, but we'll see. I made reader one year older than Bokuto, because I can't see him with a younger partner, but that's just my personal opinion; also I imagine him having adhd, but that's not stated in the fanfiction. Anyway, enjoy~
Bokuto Kotaro was a curious individual: he might not seem the brightest and toughest, but he followed his own heart and no one could tell him what to do; this stubborn nature of his lead him to a professional volleyball team, making one of his dreams come true. He lived for the sport; the scent of the volleyball mixed with his own sweat; the adrenaline that rushes through his body after a successful spike and the delighted squeals of his fans... if he was to die right now, he’d die as a happy man. That’s what he thought. But something missed dearly from his exciting life and he couldn’t quite figure it out, until his oldest sister has brought one of her friends to his game...
He immediately spotted out his sister’s similar white-black hair, next to her was another woman with h/c hair and beautiful bright eyes, wearing his merch. Bokuto always felt flattered if fans decided to show their love and support by wearing his number, or something of his merch, but seeing it on a cute girl made his heart melt. He has to know who that person can be!
The match was an easy win for the MSBY Jackals as a certain owl-like male gave it all, scoring points after points; no one could keep up with him, not a single moment of confusion or depression has been present. Nothing but pure ecstasy. He didn’t waste a single moment and ran to his sister to greet her and get to know that cutie’s name who arrived with her.
-Kou, what are you doing here? Go back to your team! –She scolded, while the young woman next to her giggled at his enthusiasm.
-You’re really good siblings, right? – The girl’s voice was so sweet, just like her whole presence. Bokuto was about to melt, but his teammates called him back.
-Wait for me here. –He added and ran back to the court to shake hands with the opponents.
Somehow the man felt like...this moment would be crucial, and would determine the rest of his life. He believed that this girl is not like all the others he dated previously; there was a spark that’s been missing all his life, a feral need to protect her, to be by her side... and he really didn’t know why. He just met her a few minutes ago, he heard her voice only once, yet everything about her seemed familiar for an unknown reason.
-What was that? –Meian whisper-yelled at Bokuto- How many times should I remind you that this is not a fucking circus, but a volleyball match. If you wanna play you don’t run around like a stupid child.
Usually a scolding from the team captain would sadden the owl, but not today. He apologized properly and promised not to do it again. Meian, just like the rest of the team looked at him in awe; it was really an unusual sight. Still, his happy mood ever present, shaking everybody’s hands with a glee, annoying the opponents furthermore.
The audience started to disappear, making their way to the exit, except two women, who were patiently waiting for their owl to join them. They didn’t have to wait a lot! Bokuto Kotaro appeared in a few minutes, still in his t-shirt, all sweaty, but the smile just couldn’t melt off his face; he literally ran to the pretty ladies, who felt a bit embarrassed as the few people present looked at them with clear jealousy. The volleyball player didn’t mind however, he hugged his sister, but his eyes rested on the unknown woman.
-I didn’t catch your name when I first ran up to you. He stated with a slight blush on his cheeks.
That’s when his sister started to laugh, the woman’s face fell and Bokuto was utterly confused. Did he say something wrong? Why is the woman sad? What did he screw up again?
-Kou, you seriously don’t know who is she? –She gestured towards her friend, who had a small glint of hope in her eyes, but that soon disappeared as the youngest of the Bokuto siblings shook his head.
-No idea sister, sorry.
-She is Y/n! Idiot. Don’t tell me you don’t remember her!
Bokuto’s already wide eyes widened a few more centimetres as he carefully examined his ex-neighbour; Y/n and her family used to live next to his family when they were kids, but due to Y/n’s parents’ divorce, she and her mother moved back to the countryside to start their lives over. Apparently she returned to Tokyo because of her new job.
Memories of her flooded his brain...
-Mooom I went to Y/n’s. –Young Kotaro yelled, hoping his mother would hear him announce his statement, as he was so excited to spend another day with the little girl. As he said it, his two sisters joined as well, running to play with the neighbourhood kids, including Y/n. Since their yard was the biggest, that’s where the kids gathered: the girls were busy playing dolls while Kotaro and the other boy were monsters, chasing everyone else around, till Y/n’s mother brought mochi outside along with some fruit juice.
-Will father join us today? –Asked seven years old Y/n, knowing too well that he wouldn’t. Her mom reassured the kids that next time he’d help them build the kit they wanted so much.
After snacking, the kids continued playing, little Kotaro did his best to cheer up his friend, but nothing seemed to work; then a sudden idea came into his mind. His mother used to say if someone is sad, just kiss them. As simple minded as he was, the little boy had no idea it only applied to family, so he ran to Y/n to kiss her cheek; however she turned her head and that force crush her lips instead.
Both of the kids mouth were powdery and sticky, and it might sound disgusting, but to Kotaro it was sweet. Y/n’s lips tasted like peanut mochi, so he decided to rest his lips on hers for a second or two.
Eyes wide, the girls looked at little Kotaro in disapproval; who- at that time- couldn’t bear the stress of being judged, so he started to cry.
-I’m sorry, I just wanted Y/n to feel better. I didn’t mean to kiss her lips, I aimed for her cheeks, but she turned her head. And she’s still sad. –He wailed. At that point the girls felt sorry for looking at him like that, considering his sensitive soul.
Y/n remained silent. She already heard about this “kissing thing” but thought it was gross. However the kiss she just got was not gross, it was cute that the little boy wanted to cheer her up.
-I...I remember you now! –He exclaimed in shock, owl like golden eyes literally sparkling with excitement.
-Hah, it’s a miracle you didn’t recognize her earlier. I mean you two were basically attached to each other when we were younger.
-Yeah it’s a pity we had to move. –The woman sheepishly added- I really enjoyed being with you guys.
-About that...how about you give me your phone number, and you know, maybe we can have a nice dinner for old time’s sake? –Bokuto winked at Y/n, completely ignoring the fact that his older sister was there.
-That would be nice!
The night was to be uneventful for the volleyball player, after the celebration, he went straight back home. His apartment was full of little trinkets from everywhere he ever travelled to; owl plushies from fans, souveniers from abroad, little decorations here and there that made the house look like a home.
The celebration lasted for three hours, and usually Bokuto was not someone to get wasted, but now he was so ecstatic that he consumed a bit more alcohol that he usually would and his erratic thoughts were even more crazy. Boy’s got horrible voice, but still managed to sing a cheesy love song at the karaoke, making everyone laugh.
-Bokuto san, you seem so happy today. Is it because of the nice lady you’ve ran to after the game? –Hinata asked innocently, started a tsunami of thoughts in the owlman’s head. It’s not like he was lonely or something; he’s got many friends, and close to his family, occasionally courting some girl here and there, so no, Bokuto was definitely not lonely. Then what is this feeling that wanna make him scratch his brain out, yet it makes him feel warm at the same time?
-I’m always this happy, my man! –A lie. No, he’s a moody fella, and everybody knows that.
His home was his safe place, where he could rest his mind, but today everything failed him. The thoughts and memories occupied his whole existence: from little promises to fake weddings, and the sad departure...everything, every little thing was so vivid, like it all happened yesterday. But Y/n changed a lot. Her hair colour was different, she was taller, yet now she was the shorter one... Her figure became really...bombastic, he couldn’t lie. However those eyes carried a sense of innocence and the man just wanted to make her his.
-It’s crazy. Am I going crazy? –He mumbled, trying to sober himself but in vain and decided to do whwat he usually would...
-Bokuto, it’s midnight and I have to get up early. –Akaashi mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.
-I guess I’m in love. –That confession definitely made the black haired man open his eyes and concentrate on his friend’s agony.
-What happened?
-I’ve met my first crush at the game today and she’s still beautiful, even more beautiful than she was, and I don’t know why but I want her to be with me. Is it love Akaashi? Am I in love? What is this feeling? I remembered everything we ever did together, how I always liked her and how she always took care of me and...-His words were slurred, making his drunken state obvious to his good friend, who knew Bokuto from inside out.
-Why don’t you figure it out when you’re sober? Take her to dinner maybe, see if you two still click together.
A long sigh left the man’s mouth. He shouldn’t have drunk today, his thoughts were already messed up, now he was even more confused and impatient. If Bokuto wanted something, he wanted it right away.
-Please don’t call her now –As if he was reading his mind, Akaashi warned him- She is probably asleep. Just like you should!
-But I wanna see if it works. –He whined meanwhile his friend was contemplating whether he should get in his car, travel to Bokuto’s place and slap him hard, but decided otherwise.
-You can see it in the afternoon. Go, drink some water and sleep. –He knew how impulsive his friend is, but never in his life has he seen Bokuto actually caring about a woman.
Though he could be flirty, most of the time it was pure accident; his relationships lasted only for a few months, because the owl just got bored of them too soon. No one was funny, interesting or good enough for him; earning a scold from his team, since his breakups were usually messy and the media just loved them. Hence, after a while, he completely stopped dating. Maybe he just miss the feeling of being with someone? Unlikely. He was such a social person, always hanging around friends. So it’s gonna be another sleepless night for Akaashi, as he was someone who liked to overthink things...
Meanwhile Bokuto was scrolling through social media when he saw Y/n uploaded a picture on her instagram. She was out with her friends, celebrating her friend’s 28th birthday. There were many people, many males as well; his stupid ass didn’t even ask if she was single. Thankfully on her social media he could stalk as much as he wished to and half an hour later he figured that indeed, thankfully she was single for a while.
He couldn’t help but smiled at her pictures: from silly selfies to graduation photos, and even some bikini pictures (which he saved for “more difficult days”) and he seriously felt like he wanted to be part of this; part of her life.
-You look excited. –little Bokuto exclaimed as he ran towards thirteen years old Y/n, who handed a magazine to the slightly smaller boy.
-Look, according to this test, I’ve already found my soulmate. Can you believe it? –She squealed in delight, earning a puzzled look from the twelve years old.
-What is a soulmate?
-Silly little Kotaro, let me explain. A soulmate is someone who understands you the most, who loves you the most, and basically your souls are connected. –She explained- At least this is what the magazine said. –Her voice was quiter now, not really sure about the concept of soulmates either, but the boy didn’t have to know.
-Like with mom?
Such a naive child. Guess boys really mature later in life than girls. –Y/n thought.
-No, like with a partner.
-Eww.
-Stupid boy. –She grumbled.
-It’s so cheesy. I don’t want to have a soulmate.
-How can you say something like that?!
-Girls are mean.
-That’s because you’re stupid!
-I’m not.
-Yes you are! You don’t know how to treat a woman.
-Show me one...ouch!! –Y/n pinched his bicep, that seemed...bigger than when they were children. Kotaro has became more muscular due to his constant volleyball training.
-Learn to respect women!
That was one year before Y/n and her mom moved to the countryside. The memory made him smile so wide it started to hurt his dry lips. He never really learnt how to treat women, right? Though...with the right one it can change. Yes...he’s so gonna call Y/n in the afternoon.
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terpsichoracle · 11 months
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“Please, listen to me - and don’t scoff.”
I take issue with the way RTT is described in the various wiki entries I’ve seen for him, because they like to point out that the older cats merely tolerate him or are impatient with his activities.
A) no
B) really? No
C) evidence pls
but what he says at the start of Misto’s song is kind of telling, and I think it says something about who he is.
RTT has a reputation - he’s a cat that does what he wants, when he wants, which is - every cat tbh but he wants to feel special! he jumped in on the very very end of Jennyanydots’ number which is still rude, but he a) didn’t interrupt the song itself or the story and b) no one seems surprised or upset, they just go oh! it’s RTT being RTT. and he isn’t particularly kind to Grizabella; he’s kind of sarcastic in his interaction with her, but it’s not like he’s the only one to be dismissive of her.
During the Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles, he jumps in with the bagpipes at the end and Munkustrap is exasperated - but arguably less so than when Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer get their barks out of order or when the Great Rumpus Cat enters on the wrong side of the stage. This isn’t an RTT thing - this is an everyone around Munkustrap being a goof while he’s trying to hold it together thing lol.
RTT sings Old Deuteronomy with Munkustrap - they BOTH obvs have a tremendous amount of respect for Old Deut, but RTT is the one who specifically says the village is proud of him in his decline. And when Old Deut shows up, he gets fucking psyched - RTT is a cool kid but he also gets excited about stuff! He is also the last one to officially greet Old Deut; it’s framed in a way where they kind of stare each other down, which is especially notable because RTT is standing on the pipe to be tall (I also like standing on things to be tall). But Old Deut is obviously relaxed and smiling, and RTT’s got the biggest fucking grin when he bows. It gives me cheeky “you’re not the boss of me” vibes, but he is very much accepting of the fact that Old Deut’s in charge, and I don’t think he cares much either.
RTT is also consistently pictured near Old Deut, when he’s not on stage or skulking in the shadows; shaking hands with him, or resting a hand on his shoulder, or just kind of vibing near him. He’s the one who suggests a way to get Old Deut back, to boot, so - I just don’t really get the idea that he’s got a tremulous relationship with the others. He cares SO MUCH, SO SO MUCH. He’s just also REALLY COOL.
What this tells me is that RTT does have mutually respectful relationships with a lot of the older cats; he’s also especially close to Old Deut. The kittens love him because of who he appears to be, and he’s just as goofy as the other older cats but in his own distinct way. It also tells me that he does know when to be serious and he also knows how to make that clear to his peers.
I’m still ruminating on the ‘don’t scoff’ thing, but for the most part, am inclined to believe it’s about what he’s going to suggest. imo, the cats know Misto has magic; he uses it for Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat, Cat of the Railway Train. It’s never been crazy, though - lifting the trunk or turning lights on is relatively small, compared to magicking an entire person back. So I think he’s saying ‘don’t scoff, I know Misto can do it’.
Which also stands in contrast to a trope I saw when poking at fanfiction - that Misto has magic and the other cats dislike or fear him for it. I never got that vibe! The cats don’t like Macavity much but it doesn’t seem to be because of his magic so much as it is because, you know, he likes to break laws lol. And I guess because of the kidnapping and stuff. They come together once a year to decide which cat is gonna reincarnate, Old Deut’s apparently telepathic, etc etc - I think the magic is just part and parcel of who they are as Jellicles and he’s got a little more than most. It was more of a “I know you can do a cartwheel, but can you really do a backflip?” kind of vibe. He is still cheeky and exuberant during the number - but it’s coming from a place of respect and belief in Misto’s abilities.
(or he’s just hoping really hard that it’ll work, but doesn’t want Misto to doubt himself - either way, his faith is justified or his faith is what it takes for Misto to believe in himself; it gets the job done.)
Which is funny because even Misto is like “uhh” at certain points while RTT is like NO YOU GOT THIS
Anyway this is, in part, why I think RTT is going to be the next Jellicle leader rather than Munkustrap
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grenanigans · 1 month
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A Moment In Your Lips (Chapter 5 - Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction)
Guess who just finished the new chapter! Something juicy this way comes.
Pairing: Shadowzel
WC: 2,789 words
Warnings: hangover (including vomit), weight gain and a little bit of shame.
With nausea creeping up the pit of her stomach and her head feeling as though a horse were clopping on her brain, Shadowheart wonders if coming to this place was a good idea at all. In spite of the smell of freshly baked bread being delicious, her stomach turns. Her hangover is ruthless. At least the tiny bakery that also serves as a teahouse is quiet. It also helps that it's dimly lit by candles placed on each of the few round tables, translucid green curtains limiting the outside light; makes the pain a lot more bearable.
“Oh, dear!” the elderly human exclaims as she emerges from the kitchen and sees her. “What in the gods' name happened to you?”
“Rough night,” Shadowheart answers weakly.
“Must have been indeed!”
The woman skirts the wooden counter and the display cabinets filled with pastries and cakes and crosses the distance between them. There's a worried look on her wrinkled face as she inspects her.
“You look even paler than usual,” she observes. “But worry not – a nice, warm cup of chamomile and some of Mama Beryl's goodies will make you feel better in no time!”
She nods with a tired smile and thanks her, barely above a whisper. The intimate atmosphere of the place, hidden in the heart of the city, is what first attracted her when she needed a refuge, and the lovely scent that greeted her as soon as she stepped in convinced her to stay. Yet it's Mama Beryl's kindness – even more than her amazing cooking, even more than the cheap prices – that has kept her coming back almost every day. The way she speaks to her so lovingly despite barely knowing her, the warmth in her gaze, the occasional squeeze on the shoulder – it is the closest thing to having a mother she has ever experienced. Not to mention how generously she always brings her a little more than what she orders, asking for nothing in return.
It is exactly what she needs right now.
Shadowheart avoids the mirror hanging on the wall near her corner. She looked like a corpse when she got up in the morning. Felt like one as well. Thank Selûne her make up has managed to conceal her eyebags almost completely and the spearmint leaves she's been chewing on have helped freshen her breath.
Last night was a terrible idea. She still shudders at the fragments of memories that keep coming back to her.
Somehow she wound up sitting on Karlach's lap. Her bodice was open and the tiefling's clawed hands were on her stomach, while hers were on the tiefling's hips, pinching her sides and a small roll of flesh hanging slightly over the waistband of her leather pants. She can't remember clearly what they were talking about, but she got lost in the sparkle in those honey-colored eyes. Their foreheads touched and her hand reached up to stroke over Karlach's red cheek and pull her even closer. Their noses brushed against each other, their lips almost following suit. Tiny dots of light were dancing in the corners of her vision.
Then her stuffed belly sent a ball of acid up her throat in protest. She had to cover her mouth and leap away from the embrace to vomit.
She should have listened to Karlach and not mixed those herbs they were inhaling with wine. All she remembers after that is the concern in the other woman's voice, just an echo in the back of her mind, everything fading to black as her legs grew too weak to support her and miraculously finding herself in her bed. Karlach must have thrown her over her shoulder and carried her to safety after all. Then the rest of the night was spent tossing and turning, sweating betwen the sheets and emptying her upset stomach numerous times into a burlap sack conveniently placed next to her. Well, that probably wouldn't hurt, taking into account how full it's been as of late.
And Lae'zel was there too. At least, up until some point, she remembers the gith being there with them. Shadowheart cringes, wondering how much of that she witnessed. She'll probably have a lot to say about how much of a weakling she is. Or perhaps lecture her on the dangers of filling her body with such poisons. Not that it matters anyway.
Mama Beryl returns a few minutes later with a tray in her hands. She places a steaming cup on the table and a small plate with a roll of bread covered in cheese and minced salami. Like a volcano, the filling of melted cheese has flooded through the hole on top, forming a crispy crust on the outside. Even though she still feels queasy, Shadowheart can't deny that the enticing smell makes her mouth water.
“I know it looks a little greasy, dearie, but nothing helps alleviate the effects of a night of carousing like a hearty meal,” the old lady says, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Shadowheart smiles at her and blows on the tea to cool it down. Its warmth is indeed comforting as it flows all the way down to her belly. She takes a few more slow sips, giving it time to settle, before taking the bread roll between her fingers. It's still hot, and it makes a delightful crunchy sound as she sinks her teeth into it. The slightly spicy taste of salami surprises her tongue, a curious contrast to the milky cheese. Some bites later she can already sense her energy returning and her pain gradually receding. A while later, the woman finishes tending to a couple of customers and returns to her to pick up the already empty plate.
“See? I knew this would do you good. You already look less worn out. Would you like something to go with the rest of your tea? The pastries will be ready very soon.”
“I'm better now, thank you. That was delicious... and filling enough. I should probably leave soon.”
“As you wish, child. I will be working in the kitchen. Do call me if you need anything.”
Beryl's lively steps click against the wooden floor as she disappears behind the counter. Shadowheart takes her cup with both hands, enjoying the heat through the clay, and releases a happy sigh. However, the feeling doesn't last for long. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses a familiar silhouette through the mirror, a peek of chartreuse skin below a dark hood.
“Really?” Shadowheart rasps through clenched teeth.
Lae'zel comes out from behind the wooden column where she was hiding, removing her hood. She has followed her there, no doubt. There's no other way she could find that place. Of course, she sits down at her table across from her.
“What are you doing here, Lae'zel? Don't you have anything better to do with your time than chasing me around?”
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“What about? I've already told you I'm not interested in repeating the cellar incident with you.”
“This is not about that,” the gith's voice is unusually placating. “I want to talk about last night.”
The knot in the pit of her stomach forms again. Her fears seem determined to come true. Shadowheart takes a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever is about to happen.
Luckily, both her head and Lae'zel's turn towards the counter at a metallic sound followed by footsteps. Beryl's face pokes out the kitchen door. She eyes Lae'zel with an inquisitive expression that soon turns into one of her welcoming smiles.
“Oh, you brought a friend? How charming! And she's just in time!”
Before they can utter a word, two cups of herbal tea are placed in front of them, as well as two pieces of cake and a plate full to the brim with macaroons. Lae'zel looks from them to the woman in confusion.
“I have brought no coin with me.”
“Nonsense, sweetie!” the woman replies cheerfully. “This one's friends are always welcome here, with or without coin. As I always say, a happy customer is more likely to return. Besides, you look positively famished!”
As she watches her leave, Shadowheart takes the tea to her lips, inwardly thanking the woman for the timely interruption and hiding a half-smile behind her cup. Lae'zel's gaze travels between the dishes as though she were assessing the most alien machinery she has ever seen.
“It's food,” Shadowheart tells her. “You're supposed to eat it.”
“Chk, I know what it is,” Lae'zel retorts. “Is this what you have been busying yourself with? Eating?”
Shadowheart narrows her eyes.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“I do not. I am just noting the obvious increase in your appetite.”
Glaring at Lae'zel in annoyance, Shadowheart embraces herself protectively. In doing so she can't help but feel extremely aware of how her arms rest on the crest of her belly. Today she's wearing an old, loose linen shirt instead of her usual bodice, fearing that the tight garment pressing against her stomach would make her throw up again. Even so, she can feel the rolls of flab in her lower tummy sitting on her lap, the waistband of her pants cutting into her hips, the padding on her behind seemingly growing by the minute. A wave of heat colors her cheeks pink in embarrassment, as another one – hotter, more intense – breaks between her widening thighs.
“Is this what you came here for?” she asks. “To shame me?”
“No,” a hint of a sigh echoes in Lae'zel's voice. “I have no business judging you for your choices regarding your own body, as long as you do not become a liability for all of us.”
“Good.”
Lae'zel's tiny nose twitches as she takes a long inhale. Her stare remains fixed on Shadowheart, but the way her hand clutches at the rim of the table gives her away. She is nervous. Whatever it is she wants to say, it makes her as uncomfortable as Shadowheart.
More customers walk in. Shadowheart prays for Lae'zel not to start an inappropriate discussion in front of them. The last thing she needs is to get funny looks from strangers or, even worse, catch the wrong people's attention. One can never know for sure if Sharran spies or Bhaal cultists may be hiding in plain sight.
Fortunately, Lae'zel appears to be aware of that. She remains quiet, her whole body tense in anticipation, nails drumming impatiently on the table.
“Aren't you going to have anything?” Shadowheart asks. “That's impolite. And you heard the woman – you look famished.”
She presses her lips hard against each other to contain a chuckle. The urge grows when Lae'zel rolls her eyes in her typical Lae'zel fashion.
“I have already eaten. Not all of us are as greedy as you.”
In response, Shadowheart takes one of the macaroons between her thumb and index and bites it, giving Lae'zel a challenging look. Something about the way she called her greedy and the way Lae'zel can't tear her eyes away amuses her.
Well, perhaps amuse is not entirely the right word.
“What's the matter, love?” Beryl's voice calls from behind the counter, where she is cleaning up. “Don't you like the cake? Would you prefer to have something else?”
“See? I told you it was rude not to eat what you're given,” Shadowheart whispers, “especially when it's a gift.”
“Fine,” Lae'zel snorts. “I will try the cake.”
Her annoyed face changes radically at the first mouthful. Her eyes become twice their size and her pointy ears stiffen. She can't repress a sound of sheer pleasure.
“Aw, I'm happy you're enjoying it, sweetie!” Beryl gives her a pleased smile and heads back to the kitchen.
Shadowheart rests her chin on her fist and observes Lae'zel. With every bite, the gith closes her eyes, moans and licks her lips. It's, in a weird way, adorable. Almost erotic, too. Shadowheart can't recall ever seeing her so ecstatic, not even in battle. Is that what she looks and sounds like when she takes pleasure from her lovers, as she likes to call it? Not knowing whether to cringe, laugh or scold herself for the thought, Shadowheart takes the cup to her lips once more.
Lae'zel finishes the piece of cake at the speed of lightning, leaving the dish squeaky clean. Not a single crumb of the crispy cookie dough bottom, not a single dollop of the thick layer of creamy cheese in the middle or the raspberry jam on top remains.
“Tsk'va!” she blurts out. “That was... unbelievable!”
“I know,” Shadowheart responds. “Here. You can have mine.”
Without a second thought, Lae'zel drags the plate along the table towards herself and begins eating. Look who's greedy now, Shadowheart thinks to herself. Yet she says nothing, not wanting to interrupt. At least, while she's eating and having so much fun with her food, she's not being her infuriating self, but someone she could actually like.
Perhaps that's exactly what Lae'zel needs – more sweetness and less fighting in her life.
Unfortunately, once she finishes her second slice and washes it down with a sip of tea, Lae'zel becomes serious again.
“I need to ask you something, Shadowheart.”
The cleric sighs mentally. She briefly considers offering Lae'zel the plate of pastries, but something tells her not even all the sweets in Toril would make her forget whatever she wanted to say. The gith is stubborn by nature.
“What happened between you and Karlach last night?”
The question hits Shadowheart like a bucket full of ice. Lae'zel doesn't mince words. Of course she doesn't. Shadowheart lifts a shoulder.
“I suppose you saw it. You were there.”
“Not the whole time.”
“What happened to having no business judging my choices?” Shadowheart asks mockingly, fighting the wry smile at the corner of her mouth.
A suppressed grunt vibrates in Lae'zel's throat. She opens her mouth to say something, but seems to change her mind before even forming a syllable. Her lips are still glistening from the cake. It's hypnotising. “Answer me.”
“Fine,” Shadowheart sighs harshly. “Nothing happened. We almost kissed, that's all.”
She could swear there is a trace of relief in the githyanki's expression as she sits back down. Her thin lips curl up in a barely perceptible way.
“What do you mean – almost?”
“If you're so interested, we were about to kiss, but I felt sick and had to stop myself. Happy now?”
“That is good to know, indeed,” her gaze is intense, and the dark war paint around her eyes makes it almost intimidating. “Does this mean that you have no bond to the tiefling, then?”
Huh? Bond? What in the hells is she talking about?
“Moonmaiden!” Shadowheart buries her forehead in her palm. “You are not seriously asking me if Karlach is my girlfriend, are you?”
Lae'zel doesn't reply. She merely pierces her with her eyes.
“Is she?” she asks.
“No!”
She hasn't spoken to Karlach since last night and, frankly, she's too embarrassed to face her. A part of her wonders if the tiefling will want her anywhere near after she virtually puked on her.
“Good,” Lae'zel goes on, “I would not want to stand between the two of you if it were the case. But since it is not, I will take the liberty to speak. I have recently found myself haunted by you, Shadowheart. Increasingly so. Your face is the last thing on my mind before I sleep and the first when I wake. Your scent is so ingrained in me that I was able to follow it here. I seek your company, I long for your presence when you are not around. Kaincha! Seeing Karlach's hands on you and yours on her last night felt like a knife slashing my entrails.”
All air is knocked right out of Shadowheart's lungs. Her legs tremble so hard that she is glad to be sitting. The lightheadedness returns, even stronger than when she and Karlach were sharing that blunt. Of all the strange, unexpected things that have a happened to her, receiving a love confession from Lae'zel is, by far, the strangest. And yet she... had almost seen it coming? It explains quite a lot, actually.
Or rather – what is more terrifying – deep down, she had wanted it.
In a single rapid movement, she closes the distance between them and kisses Lae'zel's lips, tasting the cake on them.
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The Obsidianite Jewel
A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction
Chapter 15 -> Chapters Masterlist
Words: 4626 (wow)
Warnings: blood, violence, dead animals, angst, death
Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily
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You smiled in your sleep as Chevalier ran his hand over your hair.
It was already quite late at night, but he had only gotten back from work around half an hour before. You had already fallen asleep when he got back, your arms making a makeshift pillow as you slumbered over your paperwork. He woke you with a loving kiss just enough to help you and himself ready for bed. He smiled as you quickly fell back asleep in his arms. A book in one hand, and you in the other; He held you closely, fearful of the fragility of this peace the two of you had found.
And the knock that sounded on his door that night came to confirm his worst fears.
Chevalier kissed your forehead. He slowly wiggled his way out of bed, careful not to wake you up, and made his way towards the door. He opened it slightly and closed it behind him; he was not going to let another man see this side of you he treasured.
The strange visitor was a man in his thirties. His clothes were clearly foreign; he wore riding gloves and a hood, and had the crest of the royal family of Istidor embroidered on his waistcoat. He had yet to catch his breath as he greeted the King with a deep bow. All of this told Chevalier that the man was a messenger. He then noticed the black armband the man wore; the message was clear.
"Pardon me your Majesty", the man said, "I was informed to seek you. I need to speak with her Royal Highness the princess of Istidor."
"Whoever told you that is clearly out of their minds", Chevalier responded, "The princess has her own suite. You are lucky you did not disturb my sleep".
"I beg your pardon, sir", the messenger bowed again, "I have strict orders from his Highness Prince Jonathan to confer this message to her Royal Highness the Princess. My instructions are clear. I cannot depart without fulfilling my mission."
Chevalier sighed in annoyance. "Go wait in the library", he said coldly and disappeared back into his room.
He lay his back flat on the door as he stared at the bed. The love of his life was still sleeping soundly. He was tasked with ruining whatever dreams she was having. He was asked to put an end to their days of peace. Four words would be enough. You would have to go back to Istidor and your lives would be changed forever. But one thing was clear; he would rather do it himself than let anyone else break your heart in this way.
Chevalier had never felt loss; not when his mother died, nor when the King did. But you were different. He knew how much you cared about your family, and he understood even though logic dictated that the expectation of death accompanies old age, the loss would not feel less painful.
He sat on the bed next to your form. He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over the knuckles. "Y/n", he called a few times before your eyes slowly opened and focused on him. Your smile, instead of bringing him joy, this time put a knife through his heart. What a strange feeling...
"What's wrong?", you frowned and sat up, letting your hand his cheek.
Chevalier took a deep breath. He placed his hand over yours on his cheek. "The King is dead", he said plainly, looking deep into your eyes. He watched them droop as a few tears fell from their ends.
"Oh", you tried to wipe them away, "I see".
Chevalier's face remained expressionless, even as he pulled you into his arms and held you into a tight embrace as you buried your face in his chest before the cataract of tears could be viewed by the room around you. He had one hand behind your head, the other on your back, rubbing it up and down.
"I shouldn't be crying", you sniffed.
"I've come to understand it's not a matter of should", he rested his chin on the crown of your hair.
You pulled him closer as you calmed your breath. His hand brushed down your hair, his cheek warm against your head. Neither of you were willing to let go. Neither of you wanted to utter a word that would break this last resemblance of peace you had found in each other's arms. You clung to him as you forced your tears to stop, but even then he could not let you go. The death of a king marked the beginning of a period of instability; you could not be absent from your country, not when you were now the heir to the throne.
The heir. Jonathan's words came back to him. People would turn the love between you into a mockery. They would claim that he took advantage of your love to seize the vast resources of Istidor. He was cold enough for it to be believable, and they would grasp any chance to undermine a woman's claim to the throne. Morons. Even Chevalier would not be able to trick someone like you; Gilbert surely never succeeded.
"Did he leave?", you sniffed as you escaped his embrace, "The messenger"
"He's downstairs in the library. He's waiting to see you."
You frowned. "Why?"
"Your brother probably put him up to it"
He helped you get dressed. He planted a kiss on your forehead before he walked with you to the library. He stood behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders as you lingered before the closed door. You took in one breath after the other, forcing your expression into a neutral one; a regal one. You already looked like a Queen.
You took a step forward but he held you back. You turned your curious eyes towards him and only then did he realize what he had done. He let go of you. This was something you had to do alone. He wanted you all to himself, but he had no right to keep you from what you were owed. So he let you go, even if it ran a knife through his heart to do so.
The door closed behind you, locking him out of your life once again. Only this time, he had gotten a taste of what happiness looked like. He had pictured what life with you could be like because for a few weeks, he had lived it. He stood there alone, unwilling to live and unable to do anything more. In the end, he put one leg in front of the other until he reached his office and buried himself in his work. He could not stand seeing your face again; it would only make parting with you harder.
He buried his head in his hands. For the first time in his life his thoughts ran amock. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with discontent. The depths of this new emotion he was harboring that was called "love" continued to surprise him. He had spent his entire life without you; But even though you were absent from his past, it suddenly seemed as if he would die if you were absent from his future as well.
He leaned back on his chair. The night was still young but he sat alone in the dimly lit office of his faction. The moonlight glistened on his golden hair as he covered his mouth with his hand.
"Don't leave", he muffled his wish. He, who had spent his entire life putting duty above all else, dared ask for the one person he respected most to go against it. It was such a selfish thing to say, and he hated himself for it. But no matter how much he shoved the wish away, it remained true.
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The messenger knight fell to one knee as soon as he set his eyes upon you. He took out his dagger and pointed it towards his heart, taking a vow of loyalty as any knight would before a new leader.
"May I assume, your Royal Highness has already heard of the King's passing?", he was already addressing yoh with you new title.
"Yes, I was informed", you responded, "But I am given to understand you have another message for me?"
"Indeed, you Royal Highness", he lifted his head, "Your presence is requested at the capital"
"I already knew that", your voice was calm and collected, impactful and suitable to your title, "It is only natural I pay my respects to my grandfather and stand by my father as he ascends the throne"
"Your presence is requested, sooner rather than later...", the messenger continued, "to take your oath as the crown princess and heir to the throne, before Lord Baldor's function can object"
Your eyes shot wide. Never in your life would you have expected these news. You had certainly hoped, but had accepted your place in the royal family and its inability to change due to the unfairness of high society.
"My brother..."
"Bith prince Jonathan and prince James are in support of his Majesty's decision", said the knight, "It is merely what's rightfully yours, your Royal Highness"
All those bastards who viewed you as a mere bargaining chip would have to listen to you now. Your father was making them do so. You would finally be the architect of your own decisions, not having to cleverly sneak your way to get what was best for you or your kingdom. You would not have to lie about whom you supported...
...or who you loved.
You thanked the knight and sent him away. You would soon have to return home, but you could not leave without sharing your new bright joy with the light that burnt in your life even when it was nothing but complete darkness.
He was not outside the library anymore. Strange. He must had gone back to bed, you smiled to yourself. You opened the door to his bedroom but you did not find him buried underneath the countless cozy blankets he kept on his bed. You frowned. Where could he have gone?
"Well", the voice of a man had you turn around in a fraction of a second, "You're not Chevalier"
Your hand reached for the sword on a belt you did not wear. The man's face was masked by the shadows of the night. He was spread on one of Chevalier's favorite chairs to read, his black muddied boots dirtying the white and gold carpet. You looked to the bed. Chevalier kept a sword next to his pillow. You ran towards it the moment the man stood. Something pierced your neck as you grabbed the golden hilt. Your legs gave out again as you tried to stand. You could not keep the sword raised any more than you could keep your eyes open.
The man's fingers wrapped around your chin; you frowned in disgust. "So this is the beast's precious flower", he sneered, "This might turn out to be better than killing him"
Your heart skipped a beat. You did not care what they thought they could do to you. You were who you were, you had your own skills, your own supporters, your own importance. But these men were after Chevalier. You had to stop them no matter what. Yet your body was already slipping away from your control as you drifted into a deep sleep.
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Chevalier raised his head from his paper-covered desk only when the first rays of sunlight peaked from the frost-covered window. She is definitely gone by now, he thought. But instead of bringing him joy that she was following her destiny, this simple fact pulled his heart down to the depths of the earth. He rubbed his eyes. He needed sleep but he could not bring himself to return to his room, knowing she would not be by his side on the bed. A migraine began to build as his head ran on fumes.
The door slammed open; the noise did not help Chevalier's headache. Clavis cheerfully entered the room, the sight of his brother inside bringing an unstoppable laughter to his lips. Really, was it that funny to him?
"Goodness me!", he finally caught his breath, "Whatever could have moved you to wake up this early? Did y/n wave a tray full of books over your head?"
Chevalier looked away. Clavis would have no idea what had happened the night before but the pain he inflicted was still the same.
"Did something happen?", Clavis finally calmed down. His bright smile faded away to give its place to a concerned frown.
Chevalier turned his head further away. "Y/n", he said, "she's..."
"Someone left this at the gate!", Nokto cried as he stumbled into the room. He heaved as he handed the small red note to Chevalier. One touch was enough for him to realize that it owed its red color not to the dye of red roses and plums but to the spilling of blood.
"There's something else", Nokto kept Chevalier from reading the small calligraphic letters. The two of them swiftly followed their brother to the King's apartments, where Chevalier had taken residence. The bedroom was filled with a foul smell, the bedsheets drenched in the blood of a gutted tiger, splayed carefully with its head resting on the pillow. Something was off with the threat.
"I came here first, which is where I found this", Nokto explained.
Chevalier sword was dug inside the tiger's body, standing proud over its kill. The young King opened the note. He could have sworn his heart stopped. He knew what was wrong with the display in front of him. The tiger did not lay on the side where he slept and kept his sword; it rested on y/n's side, with his sword piercing through its heart. It was not a threat on his life but on hers. Or rather, a warning. The letter made no demands. It was a mere declaration of the danger the love of his life was in. Chevalier clutched the pillar that held the roof of the bed in place. He had to, or he'd fall.
"What's wrong?", Clavis urged, his voice uncharacteristically serious.
Chevalier handed the note over to him. He could not tear his eyes away from the dead animal. He kept picturing your form, bathed in blood, with a sword going through your chest; it could be any sword, but Chevalier might as well had put it there. He did not have to turn to see the surprise and fear painted in Clavis' eyes. He could not let his face nor his mind mimic him. He had to stay calm. He had to stay collected. Panic would kill her.
"We have a proble-", Leon cut his word in half as he stepped into the room. "What the hell happened here?", he cried in shock.
Clavis opened his mouth to speak, never managing to string any words together. Chevalier was clutching the wooden pillar as he took hold of his racing heart and thoughts. He had to find her. He had to. He looked back at the note. It was handwritten; big mistake.
"Flandre", Chevalier crinkled the paper into a small ball.
"What?", said Clavis.
"He was the one", Chevalier responded, leaving out the "who took her" part of the sentence.
"Do you think he's aligned with Obsidian?", Leon placed his hands on his waist.
Nokto turned to him. "He lost his whole family in the war I doubt-"
"He is", Clavis interrupted, leaving Nokto to stare at him in disbelief.
Chevalier looked at Leon with an interrogative gaze. "Why?", he asked.
Leon took a deep breath. Chevalier had a guess of what he was going to say, and soon his fear turned into reality.
"He's gone. Gilbert ", Leon said, "He escaped. Someome freed him"
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Your hands were aching from pulling on your restraints. The rope cut deep into the flesh of your wrists, but the pain was not nearly enough to stop you from trying to escape. You lifted your head; you were laying on the soft pillows of a weathered expensive couch. You shook off your drowsiness. Your eyes focused on the man sitting across the room from you. With a beautiful silver dagger, he carefully carved a children's toy out of a piece of wood.
"Who are you?", your eyes shot daggers at him.
"Well nice to see you've awoken miss", the man scraped the sawdust off the toy, "My name is Lord Flandre"
You pulled at your bound hands, but you could not sit up. You dug your heels under the rope around your ankles but it was too tight.
"I'm really sorry miss", the man continued, "I truly loathe the situation we're in but you see...if I can't kill the beast, I have to at least take away what he loves...like he did to me"
The beast? He was talking about Chevalier again! "Don't call him that", you gritted your teeth.
The man frowned. He shot up from his chair and walked closer until he could grab your chin. "Don't call him that?", he repeated, "But that's what he is. A cruel beast with no humanity in him, who caused me to lose my home, my family and everything that I loved"
He could be right. But you did not care. Your heart could not sympathize with someone who stood against its master, even if what the man said was true. The man brought the dagger to your throat.
"I am still unsure of whether I should use you as bait or kill you right now. I'm still hesitating to kill an innocent soul in the name of vengeance cause unlike him I have a human heart", a streak of blood trickled down from your throat and onto his blade, "Don't try my compassion though cause I assure you, it is very limited when it comes to that monster"
You clenched your fists to match your heart. Chevalier repeated these words about himself regularly, yet he understood the weight of the decisions he made, along with their consequences. He was a King, even before he was crowned, and that meant he had to put the good of the many first, which often meant sacrificing the few. As cruel as that truth might be, anyone with half a brain would understand that it was also singular.
Finally, you managed to lodge your fingers between the ropes around your wrists. "How dare you", you growled as you kept the man's eyes away from what you were doing behind your back. He was close. You surprised him with your untied hands and pulled his head down to hit your knee until it bruised. You quickly grabbed his dagger and cut the ropes from your ankles. Flandre was holding his head, body kneeling on the floor. You had to rush before he came back to his full senses. You looked outside the window; the ground was too far down. You searched around the room and you found Flandre's sword. Its weight seemed reasonable. It would keep you alive at least as you tried the door.
The moment you opened it you were met with a pair of familiar eyes: one red and one blue. You stepped back as Gilbert entered the room, dressed as he used to in Obsidian, black cane in hand and all.
"Well well well", he said, for once without a smile, "What do we have here? A little dove trying to escape its cage?"
Flandre picked himself up from the floor. "Be careful Your Highness", he pressed his palm to his aching forehead, "She stole my sword"
"I can see that", Gilbert's eyes looked at the marks on your wrists, "You're a naughty little thing aren't you?". You pointed your sword at him. He rolled his eyes and moved to the window. "Put that thing away, you won't make it past the front door", he said plainly before turning back to Flandre, "What is the girl doing here?"
"We couldn't find Chevalier"
"So you acted on your own again"
"She's the one everyone has been talking about", Flandre pointed at you. "That monster is unkillable", he said, "No man stands a chance in combat and even poison doesn't faze him"
"Poison?", you murmured. Your eyes shot wide. "It was you! Do you realize what you've done?"
"I failed", he said, "If I hadn't so many lives would have been spared"
"Oh you have no idea what a pain in the ass that man is", Gilbert was looking at you with the corner of his eyes, "So what's the plan?"
"Her", Flandre's voice trembled but that did not take away from its conviction, "I'm confident that that heartless man has a heart just for her. I would hate harming an innocent woman but I'm starting to doubt that's all there is to her. She's too cold. She's like him. Her death would break him. I just haven't decided on the details that would truly tear out his soul like he did for my own"
Lord Flandre did not hear Gilbert's sword as he pulled it out of his cane. He did not see the prince standing behind him before he drove the blade through the man's heart. But he surely screamed and writhed in agony before all blood and life left his body and he collapsed on the marbled floor.
"You are quite right", Gilbert wiped the blood off his blade on the dead man's coat, "she has a knacker for being important to heartless men"
Your body was trembling. Gilbert's hands fell on your shoulders, startling you out of the shivering. He pulled you into his arms, his hand petting your hair, but your eyes were glued on the dead body of the duke he had just killed.
"It's alright darling", he said, "You're safe now". He planted a kiss on your hair.
You pushed him away; he let you. "What are you doing here?", you uttered, "Was this your plan?"
"Let me see those wrists"
"Did you put him up to this?"
"Of course not", Gilbert reached for your hands. He managed to get one but you kept the other, which held the sword, away. "They were there to free me but the bastard could not wait to have a go at Chevalier"
"He tried to kill me", you said, "Twice"
"Which is why he's dead"
You winced as Gilbert tapped a handkerchief wet with vodka on your wrist. His eyes were glued on the skin he treated.
"I'm sorry", he said, "He might have not been following my orders but he was under my command". His brows furrowed. "Y/n", his voice was but a whisper, "I know you don't love me. I know you'd rather spend your days in his arms rather than mine. But the truth remains: you are engaged to me. So please, come back to me"
You shook his hand away. "I don't have to anymore"
"Where is this gonna go?", Gilbert continued calmly, "Are you going to marry him? Do you think the council will let you? It'll be a scandal, he's as good as a commoner to them"
"I'll make them", you said determined, "And if they won't listen I'll"
"What? Keep him as a lover? Do you think he'd be happy?", Gilbert began raising his voice, "Or will you give it all up? Are you going to abandon all those who care about you for one man?"
"Stop it", you murmured but you could not shield yourself from the truths he spat. Gilbert never liked lies, but the truths he chose were rarely this hurtful. He was pulling your eyes open by force when all you wanted was to return to the dream.
"I promise I will", he said, "If you truly want to be with him despite all this I promise you will never see me again. But, y/n", he took your hand once more, "Would a life with me be that horrible that you'd choose to hurt so many people to escape from it?"
You lowered your head. You could not let him see the tears that gathered on the brim of your eyes. Your efforts failed when they spilled and dripped onto the elegantly woven carpet. The commotion of a battle startled you; just beyond the door, swords were clanging together and guards screamed before the thud of their bodies hitting the floor silenced them.
"That would be my que leave", Gilbert planted a quick kiss on your cheek before making his way towards a painting at the other side of the room. He pulled at one side of the frame as if it were a door until he revealed a hidden passage behind it. "There's a carriage outside bound for Istidor", he said, "I'll wait for an hour".
And with that, he disappeared in the depths of the secret tunnel, closing the passage behind him. Moments later, the commotion stopped. The door opened wide. Chevalier stepped into the room, his body covered from top to bottom in the blood of the guards he had slain. He panted as he caught his breath. His eyes frantically searched the room until they settled on you. Then and only then they were washed with relief.
"Chevalier", you could not help but smile as you whispered his name.
He pulled you into his embrace and you felt safe once more. You wanted to return it, to wrap your arms around his body and bury your head in his firm chest. He placed a kiss on the crown of your hair. He pulled away, just enough to examine the blade you held. Shit.
"What happened here?", he asked. Not 'who was here', just 'what happened', even though he had surely noticed that there was none of Flandre's blood covering your blade.
You pulled further away. Why? Why did he have to love you? You cursed the moment you clung on his heart and brought it to the surface; now you had to break it.
"I...have to go back to Istidor", you simply said.
He frowned. "I know"
"Yes", you gave him a sad smile. Goodness, he probably already knew what you were going to say. You cleared your throat and urged the tears back. "I'm not coming back", you said.
He closed his eyes. It felt like you served him a fatal blow.
"This...", you struggled to find the words to explain the love between you without calling it such, "What we have cannot go on. I...my duty is...."
You were startled as he cupped your cheek. He stroke your warm skin with his thumb. After a moment he snapped out of whatever had come over him. He cleared his throat. "I understand", he said coldly. His face hardened; the blood dripping from his golden fringe only added to his cruel appearance. "I shall stay away then", he said as he was completing a transaction, "I wish you well, your Royal Highness".
You had to admit; that form of address which you were bound to hear almost every day from now on poured acid over your bleeding heart. His lips only meant to call you by your name and that alone, but once again duty sealed that word away, turning it into a taboo.
"Che-", you stopped yourself. That was too familiar. "Thank you Your Majesty", you curtseyed slightly and followed the bloody path Chevalier had marked, all the way to the exit. As he had promised, Gilbert waited for you in a lavishly decorated carriage.
"Shall we?", he offered you his hand.
You took it without a word and sat in silence like an inmate as the carriage drove you back to your home. Your lungs struggled to breathe every time the memory of Chevalier's cold eyes flashed by you never knowing how fast that ice had melted after you left the Lord's estate.
Miles away from you now, Chevalier sat on his knees in the middle of the destroyed room. He was not crying; he could not. This was something he had expected, yet all the time in the world could not have prepared him for it.
The heavens had ignored his plea. You were gone.
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segredosjogados · 2 years
Text
Milan
Synopsis: Y/N and Urban have been friends since high school and they seem to have a romantic relationship. But who really loves who here? Are Y/N decisions change them forever?
Warnings: possibly toxic Urban. Reminder that this is fanfiction, all stories are purely fictional. Swearing, slightly +18. Themes of alcohol, drugs and s_x. ✏️🐜☕️ welcome to my wicked mind 🎱🔌📄
I've been waiting for the Scuola d'artista di Milano final selected artists for months. I submitted my portfolio and did interviews at the beginning of the year, for a summer exhibition tour of my portraits and a scholarship for their summer arts school. The problem is that I didn't tell anybody about it, because I was afraid of failing once again. It's hard to be an artist, it's not stable also there's so much pressure on you to succeed, to pay your own bills, to have the right connections. My family has never supported me and they will never either, even though I love my creations and it actually pays my bills, it's just not that stable like an engineering career, which is what I actually dropped out of college. 
I was holding my phone and refreshing my email inbox every two seconds. It just refreshed, I did it again. I was sitting on my boyfriend's- I mean, my "friends with benefits"'s couch, with my legs trembling from anxiety and my heart racing like a horse. He wasn't home though. He left earlier for a photoshoot - he's a photographer and loves his job, but sometimes I wish he pursued some of his artistic abilities. He's got good eyes for colors and palettes, he draws really well and paints even better. I've encouraged him to apply for some exhibitions and curations, but he always says the same thing: "I'm good with what I have now, I'm happy working with Jack". However, I knew he wanted to explore more of his artistic side, he was just afraid. 
I wasn't. I had a lot on my back to not pursue my dreams. I've dreamed of this summer arts school for a long time and I finally applied for it, because it only reopened now, after 2 years. It would be my biggest current dream come true. A whole summer in Italy, with possibilities of exhibitions in Milan, Rome, Turin, Tuscany, Napoli... I was nervous enough, then my phone popped out a notification. 
Urban🌆💛: come to the studio later, we gon throw a party here
It would be good. It would be the perfect time to drink my life out of me if I didn't get the result I wanted or celebrate my biggest achievement this year. 
And just like that, I didn't even need to refresh my email. The notification came up on the top of the screen. My whole by trembled. I opened it and tried to read with my best Italian, just to see it was in English too on the PDF File. 
Accepted. With a huge feedback written in both English and Italian, my artistic project was accepted. A scholarship in Italy and the exhibitions tour. Tears of happiness streamed down my face involuntarily, my heart was heavy and light at the same time. Exactly what I needed, what I've been dreaming. I just wanted to share the news with someone I knew that would be as happy as me. Urban. 
----
When I pulled up at the studio, the guys were having a blast. Everyone was just in a good mood. Jack, Urban's best friend who also happens to be a n.1 rapper in the country at the moment, was vibing to some fire synth tunes. There were some of the other guys from their group of arts and friends and some girls too. When I looked for Urban, I saw him talking to a brunette with wavy hair, wearing some tight leggings and way tighter long sleeved shirt. I froze for a second before approaching them. I mean, the biggest news of the year just came to my email inbox and nothing could break me down. Right? 
I walked through the crowd, greeted everyone with the biggest smile on my face. Jack even came for a big hug because he knew how much I was important to Urban's life - I was the Urban's backbone, listening to him, encouraging him to be his best, to even get out of bed when he didn't feel like it, to pursue his dreams, to just be who he is unapologetically. Also, we were just super chill when we were together and Jack really liked my pieces of advice when he had to make some great decisions. And he knew how much I loved Urban, how much I wanted to transform this "friends with benefits" status to a real relationship, with the labels of "boyfriend" and "girlfriend". Even though Jack was not a fan of relationships, he knew how Urban and I were good for each other. Well, at least I was good for Urban. He supported me with the art thing, yes, but he got me confused a lot of times. Did he like me? He wanted us to be exclusive like this: he could be talking to other women... but when talked to other man... he would go nuts. And it bothered me. But I thought it was protection sometimes. I didn't have the best choice with the men I hooked up with. Urban seemed to protect me from the world a lot of times. And he was cute and tender when we were together. He just never showed me as his girlfriend, not even around his friends - who became my friends too somehow. When we're all together, he just dodges my PDA, we don't kiss not even hold hands. But everybody knows we fuck. It bothers me a lot. But what can I say, what do I have? 
"Urban, can I talk to you?" I finally arrived at where he was, sitting on the couch with the girl almost all over him. My tone wasn't the best one because I was really bothered by him on that situation. 
"Now? I'm kinda busy" he said scoffing. I insisted. 
"It's really, really important and I wanted to speak to you in private, can we go outside a little?" I asked. He agreed, sighed and stood up. I tried to reach for his hand but he put his hands on his pocket. He was just cold for no reason. 
When we got to the parking lot, it was a little fresh, the breeze of an upcoming summer was all around. I was too happy and it could show. But Urban's reactions were throwing me off. 
"What do you wanna say?" he asked, lighting up a blunt. 
"I've got news..." I sang with a high pitched voice. His face went blank.
"Don't tell me you're pregnant." he joked. I took it seriously. 
I took it seriously because it was my biggest fear. He knew it. I was raised by a single mother and made a promise that I would never let my kid have no father. Urban knew it and that was the reason we had small arguments sometimes because he wanted unprotected sex and I didn't. No matter how into birth control pills I was, I just couldn't. 
"What if I were?" I asked seriously. I wanted to see his reaction. And why did he think of it? 
"Then... this would be news..." he started but I didn't even let him finish. 
"What's up with you today?" I asked, I wanted to know what was wrong. 
"Nothing, but you just interrupted something I've got going on in the studio, so..." he said. I nodded. Of course, the girl. The he was just shooting his shot. It was disrespectful to me. It was something small, yes, it was. Ok, no. It wasn't. Why could he just hang out with other women and I was there, at his flat, scrolling through instagram, ignoring DMs and men calling me for dates? What was wrong with me? "So, wait..." his face went blank again. He looked at my belly. I actually wanted to throw up. But it was just so diminishing. Imagine you want to tell someone you love great news about your dreams and they react like this? 
"What... if... nevermind, Urban. Just go back to what I "interrupted"" I said, then tried to walk away. 
"No, I mean, seriously, what's going on with you?" he thickened his voice. 
"I wanted to share with you some great news and this is how you react, seriously, I can't."
"So you are..."
"No! And what if I were, is this how you would react? Gosh, you're the one who wants unprotected sex. And whatever now Urban, I'm just here to say that I got admitted to study arts and go on an exhibitions tour of my portraits in Milan!"I yelled with my heart, but it looked like I wasn't delivering great news, because my voice was shaking, my eyes were full of tears. 
"Milan? As in Milan, Italy? Why haven't you told me anything about Milan, scholarships, portraits exhibitions... and... let me say, Milan again! It's on the other side of the ocean! How long are you gonna stay there?" 
"Why do you care about the wrong things? Urban, this is a dream for me! I'll have my art physically being exhibited in Europe, there will be actual people seeing it, paying for it and I will learn how to master my skills at the best school in the whole fucking world! This is huge to me! I thought you'd at the very least say "congratulations" but I guess that's just not the case!" 
"Because you're gonna be away from me for a whole summer!"
"Like we were not gonna be already? You're gonna travel with Jack for his summer festivals, in Europe too, that's a fact, and where would I be? Here? Waiting for you?"
Urban went silent when he heard me. He was going to be all around Europe with Jack, doing what he loves, and where would I be? I was chasing my own dreams, too, and going to Italy was just the beginning of the takeoff my career and I'd grab on it with my biggest strength. 
"But..." he started but the loss of words was bigger. "Why would like to be away?"
"I wouldn't like to. I want to to to Europe, I want to expand my arts skills. What's wrong with that?"
"You're gonna be away from me, from your friends..."
"I can make new friends and you... well, didn't I interrupt something going on in the studio? You and the brunette...".
Silence fell again. I'm not the biggest confrontational person ever. I actually hate conflicts, I hate talking about my feelings. I like to put my feelings into my art and that's what really matters to me and what makes my art feel so powerful. This is my time to show the world who I truly am through my art. 
"I'm not leaving, I'm chasing my dreams." I finally said. 
"And you didn't even think about me?"
"Should I? Do you think about me? Seriously, because, when I'm around here, you act like I'm nothing to you. You text me to come over and then you're talking to someone else. You treat me like I'm no one for you. It's like I'm your side piece sometimes and all the other hoes are your main chick." I let my heart out. 
"I just don't feel ready for a relationship, you know that, what's the issue?"
"The issue is that being in a relationship or not, I deserve respect, Urban. I deserve to be treated well by you in front of your friends. I deserve to be respected at all times, I deserve more than this "come over, I'm alone" bullshit, I deserve so much more than you can offer with your lame ass excuses that you're young and living, guess what I'm young and living too!" I said, turning around, fighting the tears and looking for a spot so I could open the driving app and find a car to pick me up. Urban followed me close behind and even he was repeatedly calling me, I gave no answer, just hearing the sound of my own steps on the ground and the wind whirling around my ears. 
He then grabbed you my your arm, making me turn around to face him. The tears running down my face felt like waterfalls, unstoppable and uncontrollable. 
"I love you, just... it's..." he tried to kiss me and clean my tears but I stepped back, using my hands to push him. 
"No. You don't love a thing except your damn self, and maybe Jack! See you never, Urban!" I exclaimed and ran away, step after step further from that nightmare. I arrived at a café bar some miles away from the studio. I entered there not giving a single fuck to people looking at my red eyes, my crying face and my heart visibly beating. I was sweating and breathing heavily. I sat down and ordered something random from the menu just to stay there. I looked at my cell phone, it was on "Do not disturb" but the notifications bar showed some messages were coming. I unlocked it and saw Jack sending me a lot of messages, the gray bars of typing appearing and disappearing. I read them with my vision all blurred and just saw the words "Urban" "losing it" "where are you?" 
I turned my phone off.
-
there will be a part 2 just because it got too long.
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poljupci · 8 months
Text
A&O chapter 1 extra content!
[read Apples and Oranges on ao3] As I mentioned, this fic is a result of three and a half drafts worth of work, so I thought I'd be fun to compile some interesting tidbits from earlier drafts into some extra behind-the-scenes director's cut kind of posts! So in these posts, I'll maybe add some interesting paragraphs/scene outlines that got cut in the final drafts, extra content from the research I've done for the chapter, maybe some visuals, sketches and so on. To be honest, this is mostly for me, but I hope you guys enjoy it too!
CHAPTER 1: Meet and Greet - extras:
First of all, I must mention that this is the chapter that got rewritten the most - about five times, I think, because at the beginning of this journey, this was a very different fic.
When I first started fic (some two years ago) this was gonna be just a simple 20k words max. continuation of a one-shot written for one of the prompting challenges way back when (you can find that one-shot on Wattpad here because my original Tumblr account got deleted and I couldn't find any of the reblogged versions of the posts still floating out here - if someone has it/finds it, PLEASE send it to me, thanks).
But that first draft quickly turned into what can only be described as a Harry-centric dealing with trauma post-War fic with the Drarry romance as a subplot. I must admit it took me way too long to realise that this won't work - and that this fact is the reason why I am struggling so immensely with making progress. At one point I was so lost in this darker, more convoluted version of the fic that without the help of my lovely, incredible, priceless beta @cryingunicorn27 I would never have made it out and would still be stuck rewriting the Harry Potter series into a twisted dark!au with Hogwarts as a cult. (It was a dark time for my Drarry fanfiction exploits... I have no excuses.)
That being said, I thought it would be cool to look at some early drafts and notes that I made before and during chapter one. The original chapter one began like this:
"If there was one thing that Harry managed to perfect in the ten years since the war had ended, it was running away from the stifling atmosphere of his office.  Blatant hero worship and entirely unsubtle jabs at his general productivity aside, almost aggressive demands for his consults on new cases were enough to give him a headache even when he mentally prepared himself for the onslaught. He had no intention of getting on a high-stakes case only to solve it, end up on the front page of the Prophet, and get stuck with unwanted amounts of attention for the next month or so. His solution? Purposefully getting lost in the side alleys of London during lunch and (conveniently) losing track of time to avoid spending an unnecessarily long period of time in the office. He had his cold cases and his comfortable apartment – he can solve his puzzles at home, in peace, better than he could while hounded by Junior Aurors at the Ministry. So, wandering around London it was."
As you can see it's a much more depressing take, for what was a much more depressing story. I remember when I first started this I wrote pages upon pages of psychological profiles for Harry and Draco that will never see the light of day due to my utter bafflement at reading them back.
One of the only things in Harry's profile that I think is still of value is the spreadsheet of Harry's tattoo's which I headcanon him having.
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In the original draft, Harry was slowly accumulating the tattoos as a silent rebellion against the boring everyday life he found himself in. In the aftermath of the fic, he would become a wholly different person who wore incredible amounts of (charmed) jewellery and changes his wardrobe from boring to "I spent three days and three nights learning this stitch to line my robe in runes, I am absolutely wearing it outside, I don't care that it's bright purple and neon orange stripes."
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I still think this is very fun, but because this fic was turned into strictly romance with Harry very much knowing who he is and not having an insane transformation any time soon, it became obsolete in the grand scheme of things - as did a lot of things I first wrote.
One of the things I was very sad to cut - but that had no space in this story anymore - were the aforementioned wanderings around London and Harry discovering many cool little nooks and crannies which were endlessly fun to imagine. Some of these locations survived the cuts because Harry and Draco actually go to visit them - like the Babylonian and Stellina's which we visit in the future chapters but the majority did not - especially those only briefly mentioned:
"They were charming little things, little pockets of magic with no actual magic at all – an entirely blue coffee shop, a bar that made it feel like you were in outer space, a diner which seemed to have popped up straight from the '70s but specialised only in obscure ice-cream dishes, a garden consisting only of edible plants and a small pond for sparrows to bathe in nestled between two dingy laundromats, a shop selling nothing but handcrafted, dangly, colourful earrings. This last one reminded him of Luna’s usual style of crafts – amulets, protection spells, shields against the evil stored in a small bubble on your ring. He wondered after finding it, whether the shop was actually magical in origin, but he hadn’t been able to find it again and hadn’t remembered to check the first time around."
One of the best things that I was adamant stays the same across all the chapter names following the same X and Z pattern. It was a very fun afternoon to figure out which ones fit the best. The final list looks like this:
Meet and Greet
Research and Development
Terms and Conditions
Black and White
Day and Night
Tried and True
Hot and Bothered
Peace and Quiet
Ladies and Gentlemen
Sugar and Spice
Pure and Simple
Intents and Purposes
Touch and Go
One and Only
Loud and Clear
Milk and Honey
Apples and Oranges
You're welcome for a small sneak peek of what I have planned for this fic ;)
All in all, chapter one was always going to be very consistent with it's plot, with the majority of the changes happening only in the way I write Harry's POV. Because this chapter was ultimately a rewrite of the one-shot that started this whole thing, there isn't much meandering as in the future chapters where the drafts reveal an absolute disregard for common sense. But that's a whole other story that we shall explore in the future.
I hope this was fun? Informative? At least a tiny bit interesting?
Thank you for reading, anyhow, and I will see you soon for chapter two of Apples and Oranges!
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polarizefinn · 1 year
Text
flora & outset
pairing: tattoo artist hyunjin x flower shop gn!reader
synopsis: the power of sudden fate, the coping, the struggling, the loving.
word count: 8k
NOT proof read. very fast paced and it checks all the fanfiction cliches (leave me alone ok). ive been working on this since june and the end may be a bit lazy, but im so glad its finally out.
tuesday, 4pm.
“have a nice day!” – the bell on the door rings as the door closes shut. you sigh, as you sit down on the chair that was right behind you. you look around the shop, still can’t process the beauty of it all. all shelves are filled with so much life and color- your very own flowers picked out delicately, and provided with care so they don’t die out, lose their spark.
the shelves are like bookshelves, just more slender, open and made out of white antique rustic wood. the moment you enter it, it’s like you entered heaven on earth.
you’ve always loved flowers, even gotten out of the way to study them, their growth and their meaning. you believe each has its own stories, something that would make it snap in an instant, or maybe bloom you the most beautiful figure. it’s the art of simpleness, you treat them right – you get elation. maybe it’s because you’ve been surrounded by the eye-catching structures that sometimes it can be overwhelming. obviously, new combinations of them can be as appealing and exciting to make as it is to buy them, but it can be a bit much at times.  sometimes that feeling is immediately thrown out of the window when new flowers are put on the shelves. they’ve always been a priority that you can’t help but fall in love with over and over, every time.
the outside of the shop cannot be described better than the inside. though, the exotic blooms are resting on the ground, being held safe in one spot with white painted vases. the way to the door is like a gateway to paradise, like when a field pushes away all of the crops to the side and makes way for you. around you are many other flower shops, each caring for their own sets of exquisite herbs and flowers. it’s not a popular area so to say, but it’s definitely not empty- it doesn’t even feel like it. the sun sits right where it needs to be and the clouds don’t interrupt the light, the breeze only coming by like a flash of a greeting.
“turn on some music, your thoughts are incredibly loud.” – a voice that came from next to you startled you, and you turned to it to see felix, your coworker. he’s your age, and honestly you don’t know why he started working here. you did because it was a heritage – from your late mother, you didn’t think a flower shop this small would need two people. nevertheless, he was a great help when busy hours came by, and he was amazing company to have.
“really? then why don’t you turn it on yourself?” – you tell him with raised eyebrows and raised your lips to a small mocking smile. he rolled his eyes intensely and sighed, looking back at you,
“because the radio is literally right next to you.”
oh. now he’s the one with the mocking smile on his face. you blinked twice or three times and turned on the radio. you don’t know how to work this thing at all, you just know the on and off button but whatever channel is on first is what you’re getting. ‘sunflower’ by post malone. this song is still on the radio? still, you weren’t complaining. you heard felix singing along from the backroom, you chuckled and followed with him.
you looked out the window at the sunflowers we had, ironically. felix wasn’t in the room, but you turned to the door so you could exchange the lyrics back to back, so he could hear you better. that is, when you didn’t notice a person stopping right outside, looking around and deciding to come inside. you heard the bell ding, signaling someone came in the shop, your eyes darted from the door, to the person entering and then to the radio, which you suddenly forgot how to turn off. you panicked and started clicking buttons, only adding more bass and turning up the volume. you nervously bit your lip and looked at the person that was now standing Infront of you. you shot your eyes up at him- red hair, tall, dark brown eyes, absolutely no flaws on his face and many minimalistic and distinctive tattoos on his arms. his mouth is curled in a downward smile, the corner of his bottom lip holding a ring piercing. he worriedly looks at you, then the radio.
“hello, uh sorry um, this thing is old, it’s pretty old” you shouted those last words since the volume kept increasing.
he tsked with a chuckle, “can I?” pointing to the radio. you let your hands free from it and nodded your head, with one single click he turned it off. his hands were really pretty and unscarred, his knuckles were rosy, his nails shiny- lacquered with a gel top coat. he noticed you staring and cleared his throat. you turned your attention to him fully now,
“how can I help you?” you say standing up from the chair, placing both your hands on the counter. without breaking eye contact with you, he said “uh I want a simple bouquet of just sunflowers.” he giggled,
“the song was very well timed as well”.
you laughed at his remark while taking a glance at the radio. you looked back at him now, wanting to finish up the order you asked, “is there a specific color you want for the wrapping paper and bow?”
he thought about it for a second, looking around maybe for some colors that would go well with it,
“yeah, both the bow and wrapping paper can be a translucent white.”
you agreed with his choice and went outside to pick the best sunflowers you had that day to arrange the bouquet. you looked around them, finding the ones that hold the brightest yellow color petals, smiling at his choice of flowers and being satisfied with the ones you’re picking out. either it was you, or the weather has gotten way warmer. the streets feel more alive and the trees in the distance move along to a rhythm that the comfortable wind provided. you turn your head to the window, looking inside and noticing that the boy and felix are smiling, engaging in a conversation. his side profile was a fine sight. you looked back at the flowers, studying them if they’re all perfect. confirming it, you went back inside again, going up to the counter to start assembling.
“you don’t even know the first thing about flowers how’d you even get the job?” the man teased felix but he just laughed along, not taking any offense to his friends comment, “oh shut up hyunjin.”
hyunjin, that was his name… a pretty name for such a handsome being. he was such eccentric visuals, you couldn’t imagine him with a different name, it suit him perfectly. felix noticed you while you were arranging the bouquet, but also stealing a few glances their way. he looked down and noticed the flowers,
“who’s this for huh? you got a partner or whaaat?” he said that in a singing tone, clearly teasing him back.
well, you were right next to them, but you didn’t mean for the eavesdropping to make you this curious. you turned to look at hyunjin now, finished with the bouquet. he looked at felix then at you, smiling at that, “nope, actually I’m buying it for a friend. I heard yellow flowers mean companionship, friendship. so why not show my gratitude?” he was proud of his answer, and you were too. you didn’t expect him to know the symbolisms and meanings. he kind of looked the type but it was still surprising.
happily you turned to the counter to grab the bouquet. It was beautiful, the translucent wrapper really made the flowers stand out. you handed it to him with both of your hands, his hand softly brushed against yours when taking it. with his other hand he reached for the wallet in his pocket, and you quickly grabbed his wrist stopping him. he looked at you confused, then you announced,
“actually, the first bouquet for new customers is always free. we hope you come back again!” you let go of his hand, the two of you turning to face felix. he just stood there confused, looking at both of you. you gave him a warning look, widening your eyes signaling him to not say a word. felix gulped and looked back at hyunjin, “yeah that- yeah…”.
hyunjin smiled widely, “I’ll make sure to do that”, he looked back at you and gave you a big ‘thank you’. he waved his goodbyes, taking the breath out of the shop away. it was now silent for a few seconds, the bell ringing for the last time for today.
you stared out of the door, watching him walk away with a grin on his face. it was interrupted by a loud, confused shout. “what the hell was that y/n? for free? since when is it free? have I been scamming new people this whole time then?”
you shushed him, putting a finger on his lips. you winked at him and walked back to the chair behind the counter, sitting down and turning on the radio once more. he stood there, mouth open but no words are coming out. “I can’t believe I just witnessed this. I was like… a third wheel just now, holy god” he muttered his sentences, again going to the backroom and closing the door behind him. you could only think of the smile you put on hyunjins face.
wednesdays and fridays were your days off. on sundays the flower shop is always closed. although felix technically should only work the days when you’re free, he never has any problem coming in extra days, but that’s his choice. it’s never bothersome or too much when he’s around. he knows when it’s his time to help out or when to do minimal stuff like buying your lunch, helping with deliveries etc. you’re extremely grateful to have some company, he’s yet to be taught so much more of the beauty of florets.
it’s now wednesday, 3pm. usually on free days you go to the place that made you look at nature in a different way. it changed your whole perspective of what real beauty looks like. you always thought it would take a human form, and you wouldn’t recognize it at first, but this wasn’t the case at all. it was said it’s a place where love at first sight would commence, a place where your soulmate, the sky, the healing waters and you truly meet.
you sat down on the spread out grass, right in front of you is a waterfall that glazes like stars are trapped, twinkling at every moment. on the sides are hanging vines and flowers that are also contained in the flower shop. the water glistens and forms bubbles when the fall of one body meets the pit of another’s. the grass is greener than ever, and the birds chirp joyful songs, obviously prideful of the fact that this is their home. it’s a place where all your thoughts can be cleared. just like how a waterfall falls down, the depriving energy condenses towards all the atmosphere. the trees taking it all in and growing into a giant model, extending the landscape containing gaps of sunlight further. any steps can be heard by a small branch cracking, or a rock being tossed. its peaceful and perfect sight would not let you lay your head down. you wouldn’t take these moments for granted at all.
you take a deep breath, thinking about the past month and what things you need to change or improve. you’ve grown to love your shop more than yourself. you feel you can never blossom into your own person as well, stuck in a so colorful but also monotone life. you know you love it more when you give away the bouquets than when you were assorting it. it’s always been satisfying, but lately not enjoyable. maybe you want to be gifted some, you want someone to mean something with the flowers they give you. but in a ‘you mean so much more than these bombardingly colorful grown out seeds. let them be something that would inspire the feelings within, not define them.’
you will care for them habitually. a part of a routine requires depending on you and only you to rediscover your worth, and not be sulked up by meanings and definitions. you’ve settled your mind on a new routine. maybe this place really is ‘magical’.
an hour passes by like nothing, the sunny sky has met an overcast now, you can see it even through many of the tree branches. you hear footsteps on dry leaves behind you, you turn off the music from your phone and turn around with only your head, hands resting on your sides. you see… hyunjin? he looks around the place, admiring it from afar. you were laying like you were at a beach getting tanned. if you stood incredibly still you’d look like a part of the scenery, stuck there like an article of virtu. his eyes landed on yours, your bodies felt light, like what he needed to do next was come up to you, it was like the universe was guiding him here next to you. the silence has been broken by his bewitching voice,       
“it’s you.” his cheesy eye smile smile plastered on his face yet again.
“yeah… wait how do you know about this place?” you asked, tapping the free space you made for him to sit down. he flopped down next to you and extended his feet, his elbows supporting his upper body now.
“well, I come here a lot. I found out about it years ago.” he stated, as you nodded and looked down on your lap then back up at towards the waterfall. “I never got your name?” he spoke now much more seriously, now him being interested to find out more.
“y/n. it’s nice to officially meet you hyunjin”. you said his name a bit more open, in a slight sarcastic tone that caused him to chuckle. the silence afterwards wasn’t uncomfortable. he needed this sight as much as you right now and it was rather calm. you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. you slightly turned your head to look at him, so slowly you didn’t dare interrupt his sightseeing. it’s going to become a habit to stare at his lips first. they were irresistible, a pleasing shade of pink. his cheeks had a slight red tint. his eyes were darted straight, until he felt you starting. he didn’t turn around fully, only quickly side eyeing you. the both of you looked away almost instantly, both looking at opposite sides of each other. you smiled so very quickly, and felt your cheeks heat up. you scattered your eyes literally everywhere but back at him. the silence is now a different type of quiet, you couldn’t really put it in words.
you didn’t really know how to start a conversation, you didn’t know the first thing about him but didn’t know how to approach and find anything out. different questions popped up in your head that didn’t even make sense, and you didn’t want to make the both of you cringe so you instead kept quiet.
you took your phone and started scrolling on pinterest. the small breeze turned into wind. the waterfall lost its tempo, and you thought it was the video you were watching, but turns out the new raindrops that have started falling were in real life.
the drizzle soon became heavy rain. you quickly put your phone in your bag that you tossed around your shoulder. the world around you changed its saturation from warm to cold. looking up, hyunjin was hovering over you, giving you a hand to help you get up. you took his hand and both of you started running with absolutely nothing to cover you. the rain felt ticklish, you could feel it sliding down, sending you shivers on your back. you didn’t notice hyunjin slightly stopping midway, taking off the jacket he’s wearing.
“why’d u stop? hurry!” you yelled at him, but you yourself didn’t know where you were hurrying to. the main street was 5 minutes away and no taxis or people were around. you were basically nowhere and had no way of getting back home quicker. running was now an only option.
he hurried to you, putting his leather jacket over your head and signed at you to hold it. you widened your eyes at the sudden gesture, not even daring to look back at him as you blush at his action. he grabbed your hand and started sprinting,
“we need to find some place to stay… until it stops raining” he spit out, looking back only once at you. you nodded to yourself, knowing if you reply verbally you’ll get exhausted.
seconds felt like decades, the sky started to clear out but above you was still one cloud- it was like it was chasing you, purposefully doing this. your breath was unstable from so much running, yet holding hyunjins hand made it a bit easier.
you were getting closer to the familiar streets, seeing a taxi a bit further. it was free, hyunjin letting you get in first, then him. you were soaking wet and tired, but you felt so relieved you could relax your feet, at least for a little while. the both of you told the driver your addresses, hyunjin telling him to take you home first.
the car ride was silent, you mouthed a thank you to hyunjin while taking his jacket off. when handing it to him he just pushed it back to you, insisting on you to keep it just in case – all while having a small smile on his lips. now turning his focus on the sight outside from the window, you took this moment to memorize his features again. even when his hair was drenched, or when his eyebrows got messy by all the water falling from his hair right on them, he was unreal. not even a flower, hell, a whole field of them couldn’t compete.
you turned your head to the window next to you. skies are completely clear and the road holds traces of the rain, each garden feels refreshed, the grass glistens. the houses are getting more familiar, until you’ve reached your stop. you pay for the ride, waving goodbye and exiting the car. approaching your front door you couldn’t help but think you’ve missed something, yet you shake off the feeling and get inside.
it was hyunjins eyes – he desperately wanted to meet yours again after you looked away. he took that time to analyze your features instead. how your shoulders relaxed around him, and how your pinkies were almost intertwining on the middle seat.
thursday, 7 am.
you woke up feeling energized, positive energy overflowing- maybe because you let out all that overthinking yesterday. you took a moment to go over the attraction you felt towards hyunjin. it was like he’s an actual magnet. you wanted to get to know him more, before it dawned on you that you don’t even have his number, nor his socials. what if you never saw him again? should you go to the waterfalls more since he said he goes often? but would that be too suspicious of you.
no, screw that. it’s not weird, you considered that place your haven. you couldn’t just not go.
your normal thoughts transferred to shower thoughts. you had made a plan to ask felix for his number. since they both seemed close, maybe you could annoy him a bit to even get his socials. you got ready for the day and headed out the door. you started walking to the flower shop. you had the courage to just do it. what’s the worst that can happen?
“I don’t have his number” – felix shrugged and pursed his lips together. you stood there dumbstruck, in shock. they were so casually chatting two days ago. you didn’t imagine a scenario in which this would happen. you had no backup plan.
“so, am I supposed to do it the old fashioned way? do I wait for him to come back?” a hint of disappointment in your voice wasn’t left unnoticed. you didn’t mind of course, but it would take time, and you didn’t want to wait for your spirit to flee.
“wait, do you like him? you only saw him once though?” felix asked.
“twice. and I don’t know, for now it’s an aesthetic attraction I guess? like I want to get to know him more. he seems gentle, sweet and definitely knows his stuff” you say and turn your head towards the sunflowers. you smile slowly thinking about all the conversation you could have with him about flowers. he seems to know a lot. just yesterday, you wanted silence. take him all in first. experience him first, his manners, his stance, his demeanor. just slowly find out more and more. maybe there could be something there.
“that’s nice. I approve of your opinion on him. I guess I could give you his instagram,” he says before asking for your phone. you give it to him awkwardly, thinking you’d have to scout for hyunjin around town, or maybe even wait at the waterfalls just to find him. you watch felix open your insta. he fidgets with his thumbs and wanders with his eyes before he types out his username, it helped with him being the first one to pop up.
“here,” he clicks the follow button, “now stop bothering me about him. you’re actually so desperate I’m starting to feel bad for you.” he gives you back your phone and walks away, checking the orders for bouquets you have for next week.
you look at his posts and read all of the captions, most of them being either emojis or song lyrics. apparently he’s a tattoo artist, some of his work being displayed in many posts and story highlights. colorful tattoos or black and white, he made them stand out, his style is unique and beautiful. you also noticed many changes of his hair color. you liked all of them though. you click the “message” option on his phone, and start thinking of how to start a conversation. many seconds that felt like hours consisting of typing and deleting later, you finally decided on one and without a second doubt sent it.
“hey! its y/n from the flower shop! since it rained on us yesterday, I was wondering if you properly wanted to hang out sometime, maybe?”
you placed your phone down on the counter, continuing your work day assorting the orders you’ve got, and helping people that come in the shop. hours of work later, you were ready to close the shop. felix had already left so you were alone. you sat down on the chair behind the counter yet again and checked your phone, you deleted some notifications you’ve got until you saw one- hyunjins reply. you quickly opened it, it read;
“oh hey, I’m available now if you are?” sent 13 minutes ago. you quickly responded not wanting for him to wait, “yeah! I just finished work, where do you want to meet up?”
meeting up three days in a row was really odd for you, but for some reason you felt relief he wanted it to be now, considering only now you can stomach a kick off to a proper dialogue.
you turned off your phone and put it down, a new notification came by quickly. a reply. that was very, very fast, you thought.
“you can come by my parlor, it’s very close to your shop, I’ll send you the address now.”
a link was attached in chat, telling you where it exactly is on google maps. you tell hyunjin you’re heading there now and start getting ready. you put on the jacket hyunjin lent you, it was kind of big but homely.
you start following the path, at the same time you put on your headphones and turn on some music. the street lights are slightly dim, some of them blinking. the ground is cemented perfectly, your sneakers don’t hit a single bump or hole. the wind is chilly, but not cold. your hair at a length where it tickles your shoulders, a haircut is in check. and strangely enough, the sky gracefully shows millions of almost dying stars – so mesmerizing it compels you to hold your head up for eternity.
something about walking alone at night was never scary to you, on the contrary, it excited you. it made you realize that there’s is so much beauty out there, some we even don’t see. some maybe we will never experience. how a love for life could be kindled in you, with or without entities you’re a fond of. in your case it was very obviously flowers.
time seems to move slow, you check your phone to see if you’re going the right way still or if you got too distracted. it seems you didn’t miss any turn of paths.
you’re now on a path in a park, benches are painted brown and you notice some carvings of initials on some. distracted by one in particular, you didn’t notice a person coming towards you. both of you not paying attention you bumped into the person. you saved yourself from falling and stopped abruptly. you look at the other person and notice its him. you were kind of surprised, thinking you’d find him at the parlor, not the middle of the park.
“oh god I’m sorry, you okay?” he says with eyebrows furrowed upwards and eyes hinting at worry. you smile at him and nod reassuringly. you don’t know how to greet him properly, but thinking fuck it you just go for a hug.
he hugs back calmly, wrapping his arms around your waist. you say over his shoulder, “why are we meeting halfway? I thought I’d find you there?”
he pulls out of the hug first, puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket and starts walking the way he came from, “I kind of didn’t want you to walk alone all the way..” he says looking back at you.
you head up to him and start walking beside him, also hands in your pockets. “it’s beautiful on this side of town, I adore working here. the people are nice and everything. honestly I love the other side as well because of the waterfalls, but they are kind of far… I don’t mind walking there, I love the scenery and I like how I can just.. think about stuff.”
you pause for a while, taking a deep breath and mentally scold yourself for talking a lot all of a sudden, “god I’m sorry I’m rambling so much.” you look down and raise your eyebrows, blinking every two seconds hoping you didn’t just embarrass yourself.
“I don’t mind it, I like your point of view,” hyunjin says and messes up your hair, immediately putting a smile on your face again. how he never fails to do that.
you walk next to each other for a little while in quiet until he turns to look at you and he breaks the silence again, “you’re wearing my jacket.” he turns back again smiling to himself.
you look down and grin, whipping your head to look at him quickly, “yeah, I guess I am,” quiet. “but I can give it back it’s no problem really-“
you were cut off by hyunjins ohs and no’s, “don’t, it looks better on you honestly.” your ears turn a hue of red, and you smile brightly at his comment.
it was a comfortable and short walk. you got to the tattoo parlor and hyunjin started unlocking the door. on the door was a sign that clearly read ‘closed’, and the window had huge glowing lights in a form of text ‘tattoo’. the inside and outside both looked extremely grungy and aesthetic. the brick walls were black and from outside of the shop, on the side, it had some graffiti but it didn’t look messy or in-your-face.
one that stuck out to you was of a cosmos flower meaning order and harmony. pretty.
hyunjin got in and left the keys on the counter, holding out his hand to point you where you’ll sit. you take out your jacket and put it on the hanger, not forgetting to take your phone out of the pocket. you look around the place- it looks exactly like… all the other tattoo parlors. vinyl’s and bookshelves, many posters, big mirrors, wooden tiles, glass counter, a waiting room, the place where you get your tattoos, and a backroom aka where hyunjin is taking you.
it’s exactly like the waiting room at the beginning, just more modern and not so ‘loud’ per se. you sit down on the couch and he sits next to you. you look around while hyunjin looks at you. after a couple of seconds your gaze ends at him, he asks you, “would you like something to drink? we haven’t got much but.. coffee, some soda, water?”
you look at the time on your phone, 6:42pm. “it’s a bit late for coffee, a soda sounds nice!” he gets up from the couch and heads to the small refrigerator in the corner, he pulls out two cans and shows them off to you, closing the fridge with his hip. he walks over and hands one to you, sitting down again, this time a bit closer.
“thank you,” you open the lid and so does he, the both of you share a ‘cheers’ and drink. setting down the soda on the table you rest your hand on the top of the couch and completely turn to hyunjin. your eyes darting from his eyes to his piercing, it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“so… you’re a tattoo artist? tell me about it,” you ask curiously. hyunjin looks down with a smirk then tilts his head up, ready to answer the inquiry.
“yeah, I’ve liked drawing and stuff since forever and I found my own style and being a tattoo artist was something that always attracted me so, yeah that’s how I found this job and now I’m comfortable and finally happy with what I’m pursuing..” you noticed while talking hyunjin was averting his gaze almost everywhere, finding right words to say and using his hands to emphasize it. “what about you? you know, I’m actually really interested in flowers and their meanings. I would be more than glad to hear about you and how everything started for you!”
hours were spent talking about each other, exchanges of understanding nods and soft smiles and even phone numbers. if you could, you’d continue all night.
sunday, 9:02am
you woke up particularly early, considering today is a day off. usually you’d sleep to later, but yesterday night you did nothing but scroll on your phone, which resulted to you falling asleep earlier than expected.
work was getting tiring. of course, it’s a job, it’s supposed to be like this - but this was different. you just couldn’t figure out what exactly. it wasn’t assorting, it wasn’t the customers, it wasn’t the shop overall.
and an even stranger thing, whenever you thought of the flowers you winced, your head hurt, you didn’t want to think about it. you shook it off, this is your life. this is what you love, pull yourself together.
you got up and washed your face. the reflection on the mirror left you staring for a minute. my hair got longer, you thought. taking a moment to fully wake up, face a new day.
the plan was simple- do nothing throughout the day and then go to a bar at night. no reason, you wanted to have a bit of fun. it was a needed distraction, every second week maybe. you didn’t go to get drunk or high, or to meet someone that’ll forget you in a day. rather; drink a bit, and scroll on your phone. its better there than at home anyways.
you ate lunch, showered. your daily routine of work became exhausting. your hands worked faster than your brain, you didn’t know what was going on. you were so confused and occupied with everything all at once- you couldn’t even let yourself be vulnerable at home.
pushing those thoughts aside, you put on clothes that still suited you and shoes you couldn’t get tired of. pulling the front door open, you take a deep breath. the air is fresh, “earthy” and humid.
you walked to a bar you saw was newly opened, and you were very excited to try new places so you decided to go. it was a 20 minute walk, wasn’t a lot, but it wasn’t that close either.
the entrance looked cool, and the inside looked dark. the lights had a red glow, they were dimly lit.
you walked to the bar, obviously. you could never sit on the tables, always other people thinking they’re free to sit with you, or talk to you. of course, the bar wasn’t very different, but you had more space away from other people and it usually wasn’t that full.
luckily, this bar wasn’t that crowded, it opened up a week ago, which was the weird thing. you’d expect more people, but you’re not complaining.
“what can I get you?” the bartender asks you, while cleaning your side of the bar.
you look up at the chalk board hanging up, basically having all the drinks written on them, along with the prices.
“just a cuba libre, thanks.” you smiled at him, and he started to work on your drink.
you pulled up your phone and started scrolling on Instagram. old friends- staying home, parenting. new friends- clubbing, drinking.
you’ve never had that, whatever they’re going through. genuinely, your life seemed so occupied with all the wrong things at times. you didn’t know what you wanted. you had the freedom to do whatever, but no motivation to pull something. breaking some pattern or pulling some string could help, but you were chained. the shop, the goddamn fucking flowers.
you took a sip out of your served drink. it was fine. satisfying enough for the night.
more scrolling, more thinking, it couldn’t stop.
no matter where you were or who you were with, you felt insecure. and you hated every second of it.
just as you were about to leave, you heard yelling. somewhere behind you.
but don’t be nosy, don’t turn around.
but you did.
it was the bartender, pleading for forgiveness. and hyunjin. dismissing him.
your eyes followed him as he started walking to the exit, the bartender yelled his name again and again, until he was out of sight.
you followed him. you started running to him, you saw the look in his eyes. he was disappointed, sad, angry. It was honestly jarring, and you just wished he was okay.
you saw him make a turn, and you saw how his hand reached to his eyes, hiding away the tears.
you grabbed his hand, he was startled, but calmed himself when he saw it was just you.
“do you want to talk about it?”
9:02pm.
you take a sip out of the canned cocktail and then let it rest to the table next to you.
his lips press cold, the fear of this information being told again hurt his head more than ever. it wasn’t like he didn’t trust you, he just couldn’t bring himself to relive those memories again, but he chose to today.
he backs away, slowly coming back to his earlier position. his legs stiffen, his composure is fixed straight. guessing that eye contact will make it harder for him to explain.
“i’m sorry you had to witness that, i’m assuming I sort of ruined your night out.. you really didn’t have to do this.” he sighed. his head dropped low, shame consuming him, his nails picking the skin on his fingers. you replied by squeezing his almost bloodied hands. his nails released the flesh, he looked up and blinked multiple times. the truth comes next.
“that was.. my ex-boyfriend. lets just say things between us didn’t end well… but..” his voice cracked, you looked at the tears in his eyes, maybe he wasn’t ready to tell me anything, well, he doesn’t know you that personally either.
you hugged him and felt him starting to break down on your shoulder, “you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready, okay? please don’t feel pressured to do so.”
“I want to,” he says, “I trust you, and I need to talk about this.”
“when we were together, at the beginning it was amazing. i’ve never been treated like that with so much love and respect.. until he started-“ he cut off, taking a deep breath once more to finally say it. “until he started nagging me to come out to my parents. i know, it sounds like I was hiding him or something- but it was the total opposite.”
you turn to fully look at him, “me and my parents hadn’t been talking for a while at that point. they hated me, they were wrecks, drunk all the time. I had to move out, I couldn’t bear to look at them. he didn’t understand, his parents were there for him. he said it was better for me, but truthfully he only looked for ways to make me feel shittier.”
he turns to look at you, “I never hid him, you know? I wanted to have a compromise with my parents at that point, but he just told them, without my consent. he actually found a way to contact them.”
he was outed. you were outraged.
“I told him that they had hated me for leaving up until then, but he just gave them a reason to never forgive- no, take me back.”
his eyes met yours, “i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“.
you cut him off, “don’t apologize, please. i’m so sorry you had to go through that.” you said, it almost sounding like a whisper.
“he just kept telling me it wasn’t that serious, to forgive and forget. and now I keep going back, trying to somehow forgive. but I still haven’t forgotten.”
“can I hug you hyun?” he could hear your response as you gave him a pained smile. you understood him. you trusted him even more, for telling you something like this.
you got up and reached down for him, he took your hands, got up and wrapped his hands around you.
he was slightly taller than you, so your chin rested on his shoulder, “you’re alright now. you’ve got me… and-“ you chuckled at your next thought, “and alomestrias.”
he let out a brittle laugh, “a flower reference?” he pulled away and looked at you, “very smooth.”
september 9th, 12:54pm.
dull day, work day. again.
its been a few months since hyunjin has opened up. you two have gotten very close. hanging out every week, minimum two times.
at the beginning, you wouldn’t have thought you’d get close this instantly. he was a joy to be around with. he changed his hair color again, blonde does suit him very well.
you glanced at the mirror again. it started to become… painful.
oh.
oh.
the walk to the shop isn’t lively. did they cut the trees? it’ll rain, the clouds are dark. its just dreary now. your walk is fast, too fast. get the job done, so you’ll leave earlier. it’s been a loop for about a month now. and the only thing you wouldn’t want to show up again this week is-
“flowers, from hyun :]”
you see the bouquet on the desk again. 3rd time this month. you crack a smile, again. 3rd time.
‘they’re just so pretty, aren’t they?” you hear felix say behind you. you almost jumped at the sudden comment, turning around to see him taking his dirty gloves off.
“felix! you cant just creep up on people like that, jesus. its irksome.” you turn back to the bouquet, taking a nearby free vase to put them in. shit, maybe that sounded a bit too harsh.
felix scoffed, shaking his head, “who pissed in your cereal? is everything okay with you?”
“im fine. im sorry.” you hug him as a greeting, and apology. youre as tall as him, so hugging him has always been the most comfortable, and always very warm. you never knew how important he is in your world, but its moments like these that really show you. whether its work, or a simple everything okay? question, he knew how to help.
work was easy that day. customers coming in and out, calling, ordering. humming a song with felix, and then it turned into a whole musical performance. you caught a glimpse of hyunjins flowers for you, a downcast smile was mustered. if only they gave the same message to you as he intended them to.
if only you could look at flowers the same again.
november, 8:25pm.
cheering was heard from the other side of the bar. the football match is on, and fans just couldn’t stay at home to watch apparently, so they have to yell in other places, with even louder friends around them.
you poked fun at felix, “you seriously thought it was a good idea to go to a bar when the world cup is happening?”
he rolled his eyes, “i hate football.” he commented as he downed the 2nd shot of the night.
“felix, take it easy man. two shots already? i didn’t know you had it in you.” hyunjin joked, raising his eyebrow with a smirk on his face, taking a sip from his own drink slowly. you chuckled but immediately stopped when felix sent you a death glare. you could feel your cheeks redden, the urge to laugh again was very tempting.
“oh my god shut up, its only two shots. and if you both keep teasing me ill make it so that you have to take me to the hospital.”
you looked at hyunjin, and he turned at the right moment to look at you back. it wasn’t planned, yet your laughs happened at the same time. felix gave up with you two, ordering a normal cocktail to drink for the rest of the night.
you felt at ease, finally the three of you out together. it was like a bond-made-in-heaven.
? ??, ?:??
its a strange thing, to realize that you have started loving a person more than yourself.
you used to love, love, love. its not a hate now, it’s an unaccepting. a complicated argument with yourself.
you have fallen in love with hyunjin.
you have fallen out of love with flowers, something that used to make you feel whole.
a part of your soul was torn away, another was added.
but what you realized is that, the added part wasn’t big enough to restore it. you realized that the loathe you felt for flowers, was truly for you all along.
work.
“hey hyun, i gotta tell you something.”
you gulp, sigh.
“yes?” please stop staring at me like that.
you can just say it, why not? work on yourself later. hes right there.
“nevermind, sorry.”
days.
you took a week off from work. you only hoped felix could handle it, you felt bad.
you felt bad that this is when you experience contempt for oneself. when a person showed you their vulnerability, their confusion, their happiness, you lose your own self and focus on another.
writing it on paper didn’t work, ripped it out in a matter of minutes. you check your phone to see missed calls, “hyun<3”.
so should you call? youre stuck in your own misery, would you want to bring him down with your sinking ship?
but you call, its him. you love him, you need to tell him, right?
“hey hyun, sorry I didn’t answer,” ….. “yeah, yeah im fine. hey uh can you come by the park near my house? .. yeah. see you.”
shit.
it dawned on you you didn’t call him for nothing. you could potentially lose him, a friend you’ve grown close to, and youre doing it at a risky time.
one more look in the mirror, hes not gonna pay attention to your tired face, hopefully?
i need to explain it to him, he deserves to know.
the loud music in your ears seems to be too quiet, pretending to be okay starts to feel lonely.
oh, they cut the trees there.. and the small river has seemed to disappear, it’s a shame.
you see hyunjin sitting on a bench, in the park. you slowly take off your headphones, approaching him. just smile for now? but youre terrified.
as you get closer he looks up at you and smiles, hugging you. maybe for a second you realized he hugged you too tight.
“are you okay? hi, gosh.”
he sits back down and motions for you to sit next to him.
you look around, its quiet now, and the wind isn’t that bothersome. the fresh air calmed you a bit.
“i need to talk”
you turned to face him, he put his phone in his pocket. turning to you aswell, “of course, im here to listen-“
his chat was cut off, “please just, let me finish okay? ill tell you when you can reply I just, I need to tell you everything.”
he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but slowly relaxed, giving you a signal with his hand to take it away.
and so you talk, you didn’t notice your mouth got dry after days of not speaking much, you fumbled, stuttered, stopped. but he listened.
“i think.. im lost hyunjin. i grew up loving flowers I mean, you know this. the shop was my first love and.. i realized I loved something more than that. Its so complicated- my thoughts.. the simplest way I can put it is, the flowers are, basically all my life. and im so sad that my first love is becoming my worst enemy. I hate the way I know so much about them to the point I relate my life to them. and, the only thing that distracted me from that was you.”
you look into his eyes. youre scared for his reaction, you cant deny that.
“i fell in love with you. and,” you look down, avoiding his gaze for just a while. “im so scared to lose you. because i am practically on the verge of losing a part of myself too, i don’t want you to also become something that will break me.”
silence, you knew you shouldn’t say anything. it was a mistake. you finally raise your head, only to see a daffodil in front of you, hyunjin holding it from behind you.
you chuckle, almost immediately figuring it out. “the main symbolism… new beginnings, rebirth.”
you follow hyunjins movement, he sat back down again.
“but hyunjin, it also means unrequited love.” you smile sadly, how you got your answer with a flower.
hyunjin widened his eyes, “seriously? i didn’t know that. i promise I didn’t mean that one.”
“you didn’t? what did you mean then?”
he put the flower on your lap, your hands instantly hold in, observing it closer.
he cleared his throat, almost like a sign to look at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“i want to fix this with you, together. you helped me when I needed someone and, I want to help you too. can you let me be your new beginning? I cherish you and I want to help you grow and love yourself individually.”
he takes the flower from your hands, you look at him, “can we let these just be symbols? they also are their own life. ive also grown to love you, the real you. well discover new ways to embrace your first love again. nothing will be broken, I promise.”
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awkwardlyfangirly · 1 year
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I read the father Donnie fic and I loved your writing! Do you think we could get a father fic for Leo? I saw some of your ideas for him in Donnie’s and it was adorable!
WOOOOO your patience has PAID OFF timberreader HERE IS YOUR FIC
also an anon said:
yo your fics are literally so well-written, but some of them make me so sad-
but yeah keep up the good work :)
and this is ALSO FOR YOU, ANON. SOME FLUFF FOR YOU
sorry y'all i know it's been Ages and Ages and Ages i am begging forgiveness
and I'm sorry i know it's short and maybe not great but. i just needed to write and finish Something, ya feel :')
/////////////
rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Leo as a dad!
/////////////
He was fast asleep, peaceful and dreaming, his fingers twitching around his pillow.
And a child took this as a personal offense.
One simple leap into the air. One simple little body aimed directly at the center of his solar plexus. And Leo’s day started with him choking and begging for oxygen on his own precious bed.
He rolled onto his side and gasped as the air chugged back into him.
“Oh my gosh,” he said, rolling back over, grabbing the child in his arms and squeezing them tight against his plastron. They squealed and squirmed, and he held them tighter. “Is that any way to greet your old man first thing in the morning?”
“Let me goooo,” they whined, and giggled, and screeched.
“Absolutely not,” Leo declared, solemnly. “Criminals must be punished.”
The offender was subjected to a merciless tickling.
“Please,” they shrieked. “Please! Ahhh!”
Finally Leo got tired, and stopped the tickling. His kid gasped for breath, and beat against his plastron. “Dad! Let me go! I’m sorry I jumped straight on your chest and knocked all your air out!!”
“Apology accepted,” Leo wheezed. Dang, he was getting old. And tickling took a lot more energy than he remembered.
“I am bored,” the kid said, squirming out of Leo’s grasp and plopping to the floor. “I’m hungry.”
“Hi, hungry. I’m Dad.” Leo shut his eyes. It would be so easy to fall back asleep. To just let himself drift off and --
“Dadddd.” The kid was tugging at his arm, trying to pull his giant turtle body to the ground. “C’mon. Make me breakfast!!”
“You know where the Pop-Tarts are!”
“Please?? Please??? Please?????? Please make the pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse?? And like a turtle? And -”
“Fine, fine.” Leo sat up, stretched his arms wide, grabbed the kid absentmindedly as he stood up. “Well, well. Guess I’ll head to the kitchen.”
He slung his child upside-down over his shoulder. They screamed and thumped his shell with their hands.
He made sure to twist and turn as he walked, swinging the kid to and fro; they wiggled and squealed until he lifted them back up into the air and dumped them unceremoniously on the couch.
They scurried over to the kitchen and watched as Leo tied his apron around himself - a lovely blue floral print - and started on the pancake mix.
“Can I help?”
Leo glanced up; his kid was staring at him with wide open eyes; so tiny, so precious. His little mini Leo.
He grinned and beckoned them over, reaching into the drawer for a measuring cup. “Sure, kid. Come here.”
It took a little longer than usual - the kid dropped the bowl at one point, trying to make some space on the counter when Leo’s back was turned. Wet, sticky batter splattered across the floor. The kid froze, and started to cry; Leo comforted them with one hand, and got the necessary cleaning supplies out with the other.
They restarted the pancake mix, together.
Eventually the pancakes were sizzling on the skillet, and Leo was showing his kid how to tell when they were ready to flip. He had his hand over theirs, solid on the spatula’s handle, eyes trained on the pancakes. The kid’s forehead wrinkled in concentration.
They finished a decent-sized stack of pancakes, and Leo let the kid carry it to the table. They held it up triumphantly, beaming and giggling. The pancakes wobbled as they slid it onto the tabletop. Leo brought over the pancake toppings, and undid his apron.
They sat down together, and filled up their plates. They were silent as they chewed. The sunlight streamed through the window; the kid dripped syrup down their shirt.
They cleaned up the kitchen together; and afterwards, the kid fell asleep on Leo’s chest in front of the TV. He stroked their hair and listened to them snore.
“You did a good job with the pancakes,” he whispered. (They didn’t hear him or respond, being asleep.) “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another pancake again.” He ran his fingers over the kid’s forehead; they stirred and mumbled.
“I love you,” Leo whispered, feeling his child breathe against him.
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hislittleraincloud · 9 days
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I think your (y/n or x reader) statement is really good, it definitely made me think. I only have tumblr again since last year and had last used it in 2016. At first I was totally overwhelmed because everything had changed so much. Fanfictios? Y/n's? Readers? Everything I saw here was something completely different from what I knew from Wattpad. Also back then I had tumblr only for gifs, lol. I thought I'd try this Y/N thing and I understand what's good and bad about it. I have rewritten so many of my fanfictions and ideas to y/n and have noticed how much potential is getting lost. Thank you for this insight! I will definitely write classic fanfiction again with characters I invented myself. But being actually able and write about those characters we like is really hard, cause after all we will never be able to know what they would actually be like.
As always I apologize for my grammar and stuff, sometimes I need to use a translator. I hope it’s not that messed up and hard to read. So thank you again for giving that insight. It really changed my sight on all of that. But I think we should also try to see both sides. For some is that writing style an escape, something that helps them to deal with life, keeps them going as well I guess. Not everyone is a good writer but everyone can be. After all we write for ourselves. We should write for ourselves and help each other if we can.
Greetings Kat ✌🏻
Glad you could find something useful in my rant. Your grammar is fine, don't sweat it in Asks.
One thing I'll point out though: "I will definitely write classic fanfiction again with characters I invented myself. But being actually able and write about those characters we like is really hard, cause after all we will never be able to know what they would actually be like. "
That's where that imagination that I mentioned comes in. As humans we were gifted with the ability to imagine scenarios that we would 'never be able to know' what they would actually be like. Authors (good ones) create well-written universal characters that their readers respond to; they can either love them or hate them. Sometimes authors create poorly written characters in their canon *cough*CairoSweet*cough* that serve as the foundation for better character development in fandom.
If you're writing your own character, you should probably write up a character profile and get to know your own character before unleashing them on others...if you don't have a sense of who they are, neither will your readers.
It is very hard for some people to write like writers and not Tumblrinas. That's why we also have that dialogue garbage that isn't 'writing fan fic', it's tapping out dialogue (usually bad, or unoriginal/been done elsewhere/usually a decade or decades before the author hit their teens dialogue). They can't write a scene between people beyond the dialogue. (That's where 100 word drabble practice comes in.)
None of it I can understand, since Millennials and Gen Z have been given the tools to become fantastic writers. They have a whole world of dictionaries, thesauruses, and FREE BOOKS to read and emulate. Writing in the style of your favorite author--exactly the assignment Mr. Miller gives in Miller's Girl--is actually a very great way to actually practice your writing. It's how I went from o.k. writer who could write dated Walt Whitman-like poetry to 'great' writer who could write timeless Ginsberg and cummings-like poetry in high school. I went from getting my poems rejected and ridiculed (it was all blind critique) to owning more than 1/4 of the published submissions (and the cover artwork) in my senior year.
But that's poetry. Before that I was writing just regular ol' smut, my style an amalgamation of the various authors I've read over the years. We are all amalgamations of what has come before us; except when there's 🗑️ out there and that's all you read, you become the amalgamation of 🗑️. So...let's follow your lead and not put out such vapid garbage. Amalgamate! But do it better.
Thanks for the Ask & good luck. 🫴🏽💕✨
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