#thanks for the request it was so inspirational!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

03jyh23 · 3 days

Text

— shooting stars! || park seonghwa

loosely inspired by the drama shitting stars!

Most people aren’t interested in the truth. They just casually gossip to entertain themselves. No one takes responsibility for the caused pain.

idol!seonghwa x prmanager!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

trigger warnings: vanilla sex, honestly there's not much just kissing, touching, and... lovemaking. really soft smut. it's embarrassing, jealousy, argument, emotional distress, career-related stress, and difficult decisions

words: 8.2 k

reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! this is my longest story so far! i've been working on it like crazy for the past few days and here we finally are. so the smut... it's not really a smut but still? i tried oh god, i feel so embarrassed but yeah i just decided to go for it. it's again requested work but i actually changed some of it to fit into my idea... anyway thank you so much for requesting!

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i'd be so grateful for a little love – a like or comment would truly make my day!

The office in Mapo-gu, Seoul, felt stiflingly hot, despite having already downed three cups of iced coffee. With the air conditioning out of order and repairs not scheduled until two days later, you found yourself drowning in a sea of work. Who would have imagined that working at a medium-sized entertainment agency would entail such an overwhelming workload? You should have felt grateful for landing this job, considering the effort you had put into securing it, but at times, it felt overwhelmingly demanding. Being the head of the PR department at KQ Entertainment was certainly something to boast about, especially after ATEEZ's success. You joined the company a few years back when you were the sole member of the PR team. If you claimed you believed in the company's success from the beginning, you'd be lying. When you first entered, fear outweighed optimism regarding the future. Indeed, it was no small feat for eight teenage boys to shoulder the weight of an entire company, but ATEEZ rose to the challenge with unwavering determination and passion. Now, with two active bands under KQ's wings, you find yourself constantly occupied.

Managing the members of ATEEZ was undoubtedly a challenging task, and surprisingly, it wasn't due to any misbehavior on their part. Despite their young age and the temptations that come with fame, the ATEEZ members remained remarkably grounded and focused on their careers. You truly admired that. But when a band from such a small company starts gaining momentum, rumors are bound to circulate. Your main priority was to prevent those rumors from leaking. Which wasn't easy, as people can be cruel when they're envious. But still, to this day ATEEZ has not been involved in any major scandals, which made you proud.

In a small company like KQ, everybody knows each other. Initially, stepping into that environment, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous around the members of ATEEZ. Their presence seemed to exude a magnetic energy that was both captivating and intimidating. As you interacted with them more and more, you realized that their aura was indeed something special. Each member brought their own unique charm and personality to the table. You and the members of ATEEZ grew slightly closer than others, due to your similar ages, but it was Seonghwa who stood out to you the most. His effortless humor, kindness, and genuine care for others made him a favorite. Right from the start, you felt drawn to him. However, you maintained a professional demeanor, knowing all too well the potential consequences of getting too close, especially considering his status as an idol. But at some point, company dinners and parties became regular occasions, where you celebrated each of ATEEZ’s success together. And as the alcohol in your system increased, your professionalism decreased. Your bond with Seonghwa deepened, you found yourself drawn to him more than ever before. Whether it was sharing drinks, engaging in playful games, or simply relishing heartfelt conversations over company dinner, you cherished every moment spent in his company. With each passing interaction, your admiration for him grew, and before you knew it, you were falling head over heels for him. Despite the looming fear of crossing a line you couldn't return from; you couldn't resist him. What started as a professional relationship evolved into something much deeper and more profound. The shy touches and lingering glances exchanged between you spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words alone couldn't express. In the midst of loud music and bustling crowds, you found yourselves leaning closer to each other, seeking solace in the warmth of each other's presence. His hand naturally gravitated to your waist whenever you stood side by side, a silent yet undeniable declaration of the connection you shared.

The day had been long and exhausting, and you were just about ready to call it quits when the sudden intrusion of your boss jolted you from your thoughts. Startled, you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, a look of excitement and urgency written across his face.

"Y/N! Have you heard?" he exclaimed; his voice filled with anticipation. You blinked in surprise, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you leaned forward in your chair.

"Heard what?" you asked, curiosity piqued. Your boss couldn't contain his grin as he delivered the news.

"ATEEZ just sold out an entire US Tour!" The words hung in the air, sinking in slowly as you processed their significance. And then, without warning, a surge of elation washed over you, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, a joyful scream escaping your lips.

"What?" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. Without a second thought, you rushed forward, enveloping your boss in a tight hug, overcome with happiness at the incredible news. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a testament to the hard work and dedication of everyone involved in ATEEZ's journey. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. The excitement in your boss's voice was contagious as he patted your back, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"We are celebrating tonight!" he declared with enthusiasm, his words echoing through the office. A surge of anticipation raced through you at the prospect of celebrating ATEEZ's incredible achievement.

"Absolutely!" you replied eagerly, already picturing the party ahead. With a playful wink, your boss continued,

"So go back to your place, doll up, and I'll see you here at 7 sharp!" You nodded enthusiastically, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

"You got it!" You exclaimed, already mentally planning your outfit for the evening. As you made your way out of the office, the excitement of the impending celebration filled you with renewed energy. With a spring in your step and a heart full of anticipation, you packed up your belongings and bid farewell to the office for the day. The thought of celebrating ATEEZ's success and the prospect of finally seeing Seonghwa filled you with an infectious excitement that bubbled within you. As you made your way through the bustling streets, the anticipation only grew stronger. The familiar sights and sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the promise of the evening ahead. Tonight was a night for celebration, a chance to toast to ATEEZ's success and revel in the joy of being surrounded by friends and colleagues. But above all else, it was a night to be reunited with Seonghwa, and you couldn't wait to see where the evening would take you. With a smile on your face and excitement in your heart, you pushed open the door to your apartment.

After a quick shower to freshen up and wash away the cares of the day, you set about styling your hair and applying my makeup with meticulous care. With the luxury of extra time on your hands, you paid attention to every detail to ensure that you looked and felt your best for the evening ahead. After finishing your make-up, you reached out for your phone resting on the nightstand, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Seonghwa's name flashing on the screen. A surge of excitement coursed through you as you answered the call, eager to hear his voice after what felt like an eternity apart.

"Hello?" You said, your voice tinged with anticipation as you brought the phone to your ear, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Hey, it's me," Seonghwa's voice came through the line, warm and familiar, sending a rush of warmth through you. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,

"Hi, Seonghwa. I was just thinking about you." There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft chuckle.

"Funny, I was just thinking about you too," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I will see you tonight, right?"

"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for anything," you replied without hesitation, "We definitely need to celebrate!"

"Honestly, the only thing that matters is that I will finally see you," Seonghwa's voice came through the phone, filled with warmth and affection. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,

"Same here, Seonghwa. I've missed you." And as you exchanged a few more words of affection and excitement, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to be reunited once more. With a renewed sense of anticipation and joy, you ended the call, a sense of warmth and happiness lingering in your heart. Tonight was going to be a night to remember, and you couldn't wait to see Seonghwa's smiling face once more.

Choosing the perfect outfit for the evening was challenging. On one hand, you wanted to look your best – to make a memorable impression on Seonghwa after being apart for so long due to his overseas schedule. But on the other hand, you didn't want to appear overdressed or out of place at the party. After rummaging through your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on something. Opting for a timeless and sophisticated look, you selected a classic black shirt for the evening's celebration. Deciding to add a touch of allure to the ensemble, you opted to leave the top few buttons of the shirt undone, revealing a hint of skin. It was a small gesture, but it added just the right amount of intrigue to the outfit. Paired with a simple black skirt that hit just in the middle of your tights, the combination was effortlessly sexy. The monochromatic palette created a sleek and cohesive look that was eye-catching. With a few carefully chosen accessories – a delicate, gold necklace, a pair of understated earrings, and a sleek clutch – you completed the outfit. As you admired your reflection in the mirror, a sense of excitement washed over you. Tonight was going to be a night to remember.

You entered the company building, the air was filled with electric energy, a tangible sense of excitement pulsating through the air. Everywhere you looked, you could see signs of preparation – colorful balloons swaying gently in the breeze, banners hanging from the walls, and a festive atmosphere that filled the space with warmth and joy. A smile spread across your lips as you took in the sight before you, feeling a surge of excitement building within you. It was clear that everyone had gone to great lengths to ensure that tonight's celebration would be a night to remember, a fitting tribute to ATEEZ's incredible achievement. With each step you took, the anticipation continued to build, fueled by the excitement of finally being reunited with Seonghwa and the rest of the ATEEZ members. After exchanging greetings with everyone and soaking in the festive atmosphere, you found yourself nestled in a cozy corner of the room, a drink in hand. As you scanned the bustling room, your heart skipped a beat with each familiar face that passed by, hoping to catch sight of Seonghwa among the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Y/N!" As you heard your name called from across the room, you turned your head in the direction of the sound. Through the sea of people, you spotted a familiar face.

"San!" You greeted him enthusiastically as he approached, a genuine smile spreading across your face at the sight of him. San was always such a warm and friendly presence, and you were genuinely glad that he had come over to you. "Congratulations!" you exclaimed as San pulled you in a warm hug. With a smile, you pulled back from the hug, meeting his gaze with genuine happiness in your eyes. "I'm so happy for you, San," you said sincerely, knowing that his success was well-deserved.

"It's truly incredible," San replied, a smile tugging at his lips as he raised his glass to clink it against yours. The sound of glass meeting glass echoed through the room, a toast to success. "It's moments like these that make all the hard work worth it," San said, you nodded with agreement. "Here's to many more successes and celebrations to come." with a smile, you took another sip of your drink, savoring the moment and feeling grateful for the opportunity to share it with a friend like San.

''Y/N! You look amazing!' You didn't notice when Hongjoong approached you,

"Thank you!" You replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Before you could react, Hongjoong took your hand and spun you around gently, causing laughter to bubble up from within you. His eyes scanned you appreciatively, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks under his gaze. It was a simple gesture, but it filled you with a sense of happiness.

"Am I interrupting something?" As the question hung in the air, you turned your gaze away from Hongjoong and met Seonghwa's eyes, feeling a rush of emotions wash over you. His presence seemed to fill the room, drawing you in with an intensity that was both exhilarating and unnerving. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes, a silent exchange passing between you both. In that moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you standing there, caught in a moment.

"No, not at all," you replied, as you tore your gaze away from Seonghwa's, turning back to face San and Hongjoong. "We were just catching up." your mind remained fixed on Seonghwa, unable to shake the feeling of his presence lingering in the air.

"I was just telling her how amazing she looks tonight," As Hongjoong's words filled the air, a warm smile spread across your face at his kind gesture. It was a small reassurance amid the tension that lingered between Seonghwa and you,

"Thank you, Hongjoong," you replied with genuine gratitude, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back to face Seonghwa once more. His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts lay behind Seonghwa's gaze.

''We will leave you two alone and say hi to the rest of the team.'' San spoke, as he took Hongjoong by his arm, and pulled him behind.

"Of course," you replied, nodding in understanding as San and Hongjoong made their way towards the rest of the team. They disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

“I don’t like the way they look at you” Seonghwa's words hung in the air, breaking the silence with a weight that you couldn't ignore. His voice was soft, tinged with a hint of concern that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity at his sudden confession.

"What do you mean?" you asked. There was a depth to his words that hinted at something more, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to elaborate. Seonghwa sighed, his expression troubled as he struggled to find the right words.

"I mean... I just don't like the way they look at you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. His admission caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for how to respond. "It drives me crazy." As he downed his drink in one swift motion, you could see the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

"Seonghwa, are you... jealous?" you asked tentatively, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widened at your question, and for a moment, he was speechless.

"Jealous?" Seonghwa repeated, seemingly taken aback by your question. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the answer himself. After a moment of silence, he let out a soft chuckle, his gaze dropping to his hands. "Maybe I am," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The intensity of his confession made your heart flutter, and a blush crept up your cheeks. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, a sign of his nervousness that you had come to recognize.

"I just... I care about you, you know?" He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that you hadn't seen before. It was a look of protectiveness, of possessiveness, but also of vulnerability. And in that moment, you realized that perhaps Seonghwa's feelings ran deeper than you had initially thought. Your moment was abruptly interrupted by someone calling his name from across the room. Your heart sank slightly, realizing that you wouldn't have the opportunity to delve deeper into the conversation. Seonghwa glanced at you apologetically, his expression filled with regret.

"I'll be right back," he promised, his voice tinged with disappointment. You nodded in understanding, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering questions in your mind.

"Take your time," you replied, watching as he made his way through the crowd, his figure disappearing into the throng of people. Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder about the true meaning behind Seonghwa's words. His confession had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within you, and you longed for the chance to delve deeper into it. But for now, all you could do was wait, hoping for the opportunity to continue your conversation when the time was right.

As the night wore on, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of conversations and celebrations, the opportunity to continue the conversation with Seonghwa slipping further and further away with each passing moment. Seonghwa seemed to be caught up in the festivities as well, pulled in different directions by the demands of the evening. Despite your best efforts to find a moment alone with him, the bustling atmosphere of the party made it difficult to carve out the time for a private conversation. Seonghwa was constantly surrounded by friends and colleagues, and you found yourself pulled in different directions as well, engaging in lively discussions and catching up with the rest of the team.

The atmosphere in the company was quiet, with only the faint echoes of the recent party lingering in the air. As the party slowly wound down and the last of the guests trickled out of the door, you found yourself alone in the room, left to clean up the aftermath. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached, and you turned to find Seonghwa lingering in the doorway.

"Can I help you clean up?" he asked, his voice gentle and earnest. You nodded, appreciating his offer of help and the chance to speak with him once again.

"Of course, thank you, Seonghwa." You replied, welcoming his company. Together, you started to pick up the scattered cups and plates, the silence between you comfortable yet filled with anticipation. Seonghwa worked diligently, making quick work of the mess. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring his focus. When he finished, he looked up and met your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

"It's much easier with two people," he commented, breaking the silence. You agreed and thanked him again for his help. The room was now clean, but neither of you made a move to leave. Seonghwa finally broke the silence.

"About what I said earlier," he began, hesitating slightly. You nodded, indicating that you were listening. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he continued. "I meant what I said. I care about you... more than I probably should." His words echoed in the empty room; the atmosphere suddenly heavy. You looked at him, surprised by his confession but also relieved. His feelings mirrored your own, and you found yourself smiling at him.

"I care about you too, Seonghwa," you replied, his face lit up at your words, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Can I kiss you?" His words sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, and without hesitation, you reached out to gently cup his face in your hands.

"Yes," you whispered, Seonghwa’s eyes twinkled with happiness at your answer. You could feel your heart pound against your chest in anticipation. Seonghwa’s touch was gentle yet commanding as he pulled you closer by your waist, drawing you into his embrace with a magnetic force that was impossible to resist. As his touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, your body reacted instinctively, responding to the electrifying sensation with an intensity that took your breath away. Every nerve seemed to ignite with a fiery spark as his fingertips grazed your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensation. Seonghwa's lips were warm and soft against yours, each gentle brush sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. The moment his lips met yours, everything around melted away. All you could feel was him; his lips on yours, his heartbeat echoing your own. The kiss was soft, tender, filled with all the emotions that had been building up between you. With each press of Seonghwa’s lips against yours, you felt yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his embrace. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, a steady rhythm echoing the urgency of the desire that coursed through you. With each caress, your senses were heightened, attuned to every nuance of his touch. It was as if a spark had been ignited within you, setting your entire being ablaze with a fierce longing that threatened to consume you whole.

"Seonghwa, we shouldn't," you whispered breathlessly against his lips as you pulled away, a pang of hesitation gnawing at your heart.

"Why not?" He murmured, his breath hitching as he stared at you with a look of surprise and confusion. His words resonated within you, forcing you to confront the fear that had been lingering at the back of your mind. You swallowed hard, your mind wrestling with the feelings that had been building up inside you.

"You're an idol, Seonghwa, and I... I work for your PR team," you started, your voice barely a whisper. You watched as the confusion in his eyes shifted to understanding, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. "The rules... the... the consequences," you stuttered, your heart pounding as you tried to put your fears into words. "We could get caught... I could lose my job... and it could ruin your career." For a moment, Seonghwa was silent, absorbing your words. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his feelings and the harsh reality of the world you both lived in. But then, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I understand," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest. "But I can't help how I feel about you. We'll figure this out... together." You tried to say something, to voice the concerns still swirling in your mind, but Seonghwa shook his head and placed a finger on your lips.

"Shhh... I've waited too long for this," he murmured, and before you could respond, he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left no room for argument. His touch was electrifying, his lips hungry and insistent against yours, and you found yourself returning his fervor with equal intensity. There was no gentleness, no tender caresses. Instead, your kiss was raw and unbridled, fueled by a primal hunger that threatened to consume you both. With each brush of your lips, the barriers that had once held you back crumbled, giving way to an overwhelming surge of desire. In the heat of the moment, there was no room for hesitation or doubt. All that mattered was the fiery connection that blazed between you, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing second. And as you lost yourselves in the intoxicating rush of passion, you knew that there was no turning back. As the world around you melted away, you found the courage to voice the words that had been on the tip of your tongue.

"Let's go to my place," you breathed out, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his response. Seonghwa looked at you, a slight surprise in his eyes. Then a slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features into a look of pure happiness.

"I'd love to," he replied, his voice husky. You reached out, gently grasping Seonghwa's wrist and pulling him to follow you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was a glimmer of excitement mirrored in their depths. With a sense of urgency, you swiftly took your purse. Every movement was propelled by a heady mix of anticipation and desire, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rapid pace of your thoughts. As you made your way to the back door, Seonghwa paused for a moment, reaching for his jacket, glasses, and a mask before stepping outside. You were struck by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. In that simple gesture, you saw a glimpse of the considerate and caring person he was beneath the surface. With a soft smile, you followed, grabbing your own jacket and slipping on a mask before joining Seonghwa outside. The cool night air greeted you as you stepped onto the pavement, wrapping you in its embrace. Feeling the warmth of Seonghwa's hand intertwining with yours sent a jolt of electricity. With your fingers intertwined, you set off together, following the familiar way that would lead you to your apartment. You couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude as you made your way through the quiet streets, it was a relief to know that your apartment was only a short distance away from the company.

As soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, Seonghwa pulled you hard into his chest, your bodies pressing on each other. His kisses became more urgent, his grip on you tighter as if he was afraid you would disappear. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless, his taste intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. In this moment, there was no room for remorse or second thoughts, only the overpowering need for each other. You were lost in him, in the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his taste, his scent. As the intensity of your shared passion escalated, Seonghwa moved to unbutton your shirt, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

"Wait," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and filled with desire, but he stopped at your words, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he waited for you to continue. "I... I just want to make sure we're both on the same page," you said softly, voice trembling slightly with the weight of the moment. "I care about you, Seonghwa, more than I can put into words. But I want it to mean something, for both of us." As you spoke, you searched his expression for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was a profound sense of understanding and respect. In that moment, you were sure that Seonghwa shared your desire for something deeper, something more meaningful than just physical intimacy. His lips curved into a tender smile, and he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand.

"I understand," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want this to mean something too, Y/N. More than anything. I’m not leaving you." With those words, the last of your doubts melted away, leaving only a sense of trust and connection between you. His touch, careful and loving, trailed down your body, taking the time to appreciate every inch of you. Seonghwa’s fingers traced over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. He took his time, his hands exploring you as if he was memorizing every curve, every line of your body. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands. He let out a soft groan, his hot breath fanning against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again, stealing your breath away with the intensity of the kiss. His hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it aside. His gaze was full of admiration and desire as he looked at you, his eyes taking in your form.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with emotion. You blushed, a smile spreading across your lips at his words. Seonghwa leaned in, pressing kisses along your neck, collarbones, down to your chest. His hands finally moved to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His touch was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of pleasure through your body. Seonghwa was patient, taking his time to make you feel loved, and cherished. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him closer to where you needed him. "So impatient," Seonghwa commented as he moved back up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. Craving the feel of his skin against yours, your hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. You took a moment to admire him, your gaze trailing over his muscular chest, and the defined abs. Seonghwa was beautiful, every inch of him perfect. You reached out, your fingers tracing over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Seonghwa’s hands roamed your body, the touch igniting a fire within you. He moved lower once again, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. His hands moved to your skirt, unzipping it and sliding it down your legs. Seonghwa’s lips found the skin on your thighs, his hands gently creasing them, each touch sending waves of desire coursing through you. His lips moved up your tight, his lips finding all your sensitive spots, making you arch your back and gasp out his name. You felt his breath dangerously close to your panties, which by now were soaked completely with your arousal.

"Seonghwa," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you arched your back, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that washed over you. "Not here," you murmured, your voice trembling as looked down on him with a mixture of desire and urgency. "Bedroom... Let's go to the bedroom." Seonghwa, with a deep and magnetic gaze that held you captive, guided you gently towards the bedroom. He led you to the edge of the bed, his hands never leaving your body. Carefully, with an affectionate touch, he laid you down on the soft sheets. Seonghwa's gaze was intense but tender, as if he was committing every detail of you to memory. The look in his eyes held a fervor that was both thrilling and comforting. The last piece of your clothing was slowly discarded, your lace panties landing softly on the floor. His hands, now free to explore, traced a path of heat down your bare body, each touch igniting a spark of anticipation. He kissed you deeply, a promise of more to come, before his eyes met yours once more. Seonghwa's gaze was full of adoration and hunger, a testament to the intimate connection that was about to deepen. Slowly, Seonghwa began to undress himself, his movements unhurried and deliberate. As the last piece of his clothing dropped to the floor, he positioned himself atop you, his bare skin against yours sending tremors of desire coursing through your veins. His eyes continued to hold your gaze, their depths reflecting the shared anticipation of the intimate moment that was about to unfold.

"Is this alright?" Seonghwa whispered against your lips.

"Yes," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Yes, Seonghwa... I'm yours." Your affirmation seemed to ignite something within him. A slow, intoxicating smile spread across his face, his dark eyes twinkling with a mixture of love, desire, and a hint of possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine. His gaze never wavered from yours, maintaining eye contact as he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a searing, passionate kiss. One of his hands, tender and firm, cradled your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheeks. With the other one he steadied himself between your legs, and you finally felt him entering you slowly and gently, his movements measured and full of care. The feeling was intoxicating, overwhelming in its intensity but filled with a tenderness that only Seonghwa could provide. As Seonghwa moved, you felt a surge of pleasure that left you gasping, your fingers trailing over his back, your nails gently digging into his skin. His name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper, the syllables intertwining with the soft moans and gasps that filled the room. Each thrust heightened the pleasure, building up tension that had you moaning his name louder. He responded to your every sound, his movements shifting and adapting to your responses. It was as if he was attuned to every part of you, each touch designed to elicit the maximum pleasure.

"Seonghwa," you moaned, as he continued to move, his rhythm steady and deliberate. He looked down at you, his gaze filled with love and desire, his expression mirroring the pleasure coursing through you. "I’m close" you whimpered as the pleasure started to overwhelm you.

"I know, baby," he responded, his voice low and soothing. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze as the room around you both seemed to fade. Each of his movements were measured, calculated to draw the maximum response from you. He knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and he wasn't afraid to take his time in delivering it. Seonghwa was completely in tune with your body, knowing just how to touch you, how to move, to bring you to the edge. A gasp escaped your lips as his rhythm increased, the intensity building as he moved. His name was a whispered prayer on your lips, the only word you could manage as you clung to him. The world around you narrowed to the feeling of him, the sight of him, the sound of him, the scent of him.

"Let go baby," he murmured against your ear, his voice a soothing balm, grounding you in the moment. With a few more deep movements, he guided you both to the peak of your shared pleasure. The feeling was indescribable, a release of tension that left you both panting and gasping for breath. And through it all, Seonghwa was there with you, his gaze never leaving yours, his love and desire for you clear in his eyes. As the waves of pleasure subsided, Seonghwa collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, his heart beating in time with yours as you both lay there in silence, the echoes of your shared climax still reverberating through your bodies. Seonghwa’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, a soothing gesture that eased the lingering tremors racking your body. His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the tenderness of the gesture making your heart flutter.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. His concern was palpable, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"More than okay," you assured him, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his sweaty forehead. His answering smile was warm and genuine, a sight that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Good," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His breathing slowly became more regular, his body relaxing as he basked in the afterglow. You laid there, tangled in each other's arms, your heartbeats syncing in the quiet. There was no need for words now, the silence between you was comfortable and familiar. As you drifted off to sleep, his arms tightened around you.

You were suddenly awakened by the sound of Seonghwa's voice, harsh and irritated, a stark contrast to the gentle tone you had grown accustomed to. His distressed voice pierced the calm tranquility of the early morning as he was on the phone, pacing around the room with furrowed brows, clearly in frustration. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed your phone blinking on the bedside table. Forty-three missed calls. A wave of chilly dread filled you as you unlocked your phone to see the flood of messages and notifications. The first one you clicked on made your heart drop. Pictures of you and Seonghwa, walking to your apartment, your hands intertwined, were plastered all over various media outlets. The headlines screamed about Seonghwa's secret relationship, a shocking revelation that seemed to have hit the fandom like a lightning bolt. The comments section was a whirlpool of emotions - shock, betrayal, and surprisingly, support. As you scrolled through the articles, you could barely register the words. This was your worst nightmare coming to life, the very reason you hesitated to start a relationship with Seonghwa in the first place. Seonghwa finished his call and turned to you, his face unnaturally pale.

"It's all over the news," he said, his voice barely a whisper. The room felt suffocating as a heavy silence descended upon it, both of you too stunned to utter a word. The reality of the situation was sinking in, unfolding a terrifying scenario that you both had dreaded. Your mind was racing, scrambling to make sense of the situation. All your worst fears were coming to life - the fear of getting caught, of losing your job, and of potentially damaging Seonghwa's career. This was the adverse consequence of your secret relationship, the one you had feared and tried to prevent from the very beginning. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Your anger flared as you dialed your boss's number, your hands shaking as you held the phone to your ear. He picked up on the second ring, his voice tense,

"You need to do your job and stop this information from spreading," he demanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You felt your heart clench at his words, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you fired back,

"How am I supposed to do that when I'm the one involved?" The line crackled with tension as you braced yourself for your boss's response, knowing that your conversation was about to take a heated turn.

"You're involved!?" His voice was sharp, laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. "How could you let this happen, Y/N? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into?" His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you felt a surge of anger rising within you.

"I didn't 'let' anything happen," you shot back, your own voice rising with frustration. "This isn't something I planned or wanted. And as for the mess, believe me, I'm well aware of it." There was a tense pause on the other end of the line, the silence filled with unspoken accusations and bitter recriminations. You could practically feel your boss's disappointment radiating through the phone, a heavy weight pressing down on you with each passing second.

"We need to contain this," he said finally, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Handle the damage control on our end, write a press release. Stay out of the public eye, keep your head down, and for god's sake, don't make things worse." You clenched your jaw, struggling to keep your emotions in check as you listened to his instructions.

"And what about Seonghwa?" you demanded, unable to suppress the edge of desperation in your voice. There was another pause, longer this time, as your boss considered his response.

"Seonghwa knew what he was getting into when he chose this life," he said finally, his voice oddly cold and unsympathetic. "He's a public figure, and he needs to accept the consequences of his actions. Just like you do." The words hung between you, a bitter reminder of the harsh reality you were both facing. As you hung up the phone, a sense of resignation settled over you, knowing that no matter how much you wanted to protect Seonghwa, there were forces at play far beyond your control. Seonghwa, who had been a silent witness to your conversation, finally broke his silence. His sobs filled the room, each one stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You turned to him, your eyes filled with regret and sorrow.

"I was supposed to be the one protecting you," you said, your voice choked with tears. You could see the pain in his eyes, reflecting your own as you confessed, "This was a mistake. I'm going to get fired, Seonghwa. There's no future for us." His face crumpled at your words, a look of utter devastation replacing his earlier confusion.

"No, Y/N, please..." he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you." he retorted, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and despair. His words hit you like a punch to the gut. As the silence settled in the room, you felt a lump forming in your throat. The harsh reality of the situation was too overwhelming to comprehend. The words that had been exchanged between you two still echoed in your ears, haunting you. The room, once filled with love and warmth, now felt cold and distant. The air was heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Seonghwa, his eyes red and swollen from crying, looked at you. His usual cheerful demeanor was now replaced with a look of sadness and despair. He seemed like a completely different person. Seeing him like this broke your heart even more, the reality of the situation dawning on you.

"I... I need some time," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He got up from the bed, picked up his clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, numb and silent, as you processed everything that had happened. You felt a sense of guilt wash over you, realizing that your actions had led to this mess. Picking up your phone, you answered the incoming call from one of the reporters.

"This is a delicate matter, and we are currently fact-checking all the information," you replied, maintaining a professional tone. "We will be releasing an official press statement soon regarding the matter. Thank you for your understanding."

For the next several minutes, you found yourself answering a seemingly endless stream of phone calls, bombarded with the same questions over and over again. "Who is this girl?" "Is it really Seonghwa?" "Is it official?" With each call, your heart ached a little more, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were the reason behind this mess, and with each question, the weight of your actions became increasingly clear. Seonghwa finally emerged from the bathroom, he was fully dressed, his hair neatly combed back, and his face, although still showing signs of distress, was more composed. He settled down next to you, the distance between you heavy with unspoken tension. You could feel his gaze burning into you, his eyes searching for answers in the depths of your own. But as he heard you denying what happened during countless phone calls, a flicker of hurt flashed across his features, overshadowing the mask of composure he had worn moments before.

"Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "Why are you doing this? We can't keep pretending like nothing happened." His words cut through the silence like a knife, leaving you speechless in their wake. You could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, demanding honesty in the face of your denial. But as you met his eyes, you saw the pain reflected in their depths, and a pang of guilt surged through you. You had hurt him deeply with your words, and now, as you continued to deny the truth, you were only adding to his anguish. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze any longer. In that moment, you felt more alone than ever, trapped in a web of lies and deceit from which there seemed to be no escape.

Once the calls ended, with a heavy heart, you began to draft a press release denying the rumors. As you typed, your mind raced with thoughts of how to properly word your denial, how to ensure that it would put an end to the rampant speculation. Seonghwa, who had been observing silently, finally spoke up, his tone filled with discontent. "Why are you denying it?" he asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"Seonghwa, we have to," you tried explaining,

"No, we don't," he retorted, his voice steady and determined. "We don't have to lie. We don't have to hide."

"Seonghwa, we can't just admit to this. The backlash... it could ruin your career," you argued, your voice tinged with desperation.

"And what? We lie? We hide?" Seonghwa countered, his voice filled with frustration.

"We need to think about the consequences. The fans, the company... it's not just us we have to consider." you countered, trying to maintain your composure.

"I don't care about that," he said, his voice softening. "I care about you. I care about us. I don't want to lie about that."

"But this isn't just about us. There are other people involved. Our actions have consequences." you responded, your voice breaking slightly.

"I know that" he said, his tone resolute. "But isn't our relationship worth fighting for?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. As the weight of your situation bore down, you felt the sting of desperation clawing at your heart, driving you to speak words you knew would hurt Seonghwa deeply.

"What relationship are you even talking about, Seonghwa? We hadn't even had a 'what-are-we' talk, and everything is ruined," you spat out, your voice laced with bitterness and regret. "We kissed less than 24 hours ago, and now we're all over the news." The words spilled out of you like poison, each one laced with the bitter taste of reality. You could see the pain flicker across Seonghwa's face, his eyes clouding with hurt and confusion. But you couldn't stop yourself, couldn't hold back the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. "We need to protect you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "There's no 'us' in this, Seonghwa. It's just you, and your career, and the future you've worked so hard for. I won't let you throw it all away for me." Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to bear the weight of Seonghwa's gaze any longer. In that moment, you knew that you had hurt him deeply, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret those words. For better or worse, they were the truth, the raw, unfiltered truth that lay at the heart of your impossible situation.

"You don't get to decide that" Seonghwa replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "You don't get to decide what I throw away or keep. It's my life, my career, my future. And you... you're a part of that, whether you like it or not." His words hung heavy in the air, an undeniable truth that weighed down on your heart. "We're in this together, and I'm not letting you walk away just because you're scared. So, let's face this together. Let's fight for 'us', for our future. Because, in my eyes, there's no 'me' without 'us'." You stared at him, your heart pounding. His words echoed in your mind, raw and powerful. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear. Could you really fight for this? For him? Suddenly, the weight of your decision seemed more significant, more daunting.

"I... I don't know, Seonghwa," you stuttered, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can do this. If I can put you at risk like that."

But Seonghwa just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's not for you to decide," he countered gently. "I'm ready to face whatever comes our way. And I want you by my side. So, will you fight with me?"

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff

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yoonivy · 2 days

Text

symptom of your touch.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.

All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.

warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.

author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!

word count. 7k+

It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night.

But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.

“Where is he?”

Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”

You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand.

To Aegon — where are you????

You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”

You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”

You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”

“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator.

After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”

You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”

“That boy… I swear…”

“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.

“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .

“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.

From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me

You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever.

“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family.

Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”

Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.

“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”

The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”

Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”

You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach.

You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.

You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.

Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.

You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”

“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”

The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare.

You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with.

Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.

When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.

His first year away from home was good to him.

“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.

He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”

Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”

He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.

“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”

Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason.

He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”

After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.

Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you.

After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.

Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.

Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.

With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork.

You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home.

You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered.

You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be.

Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.

You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.

“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff.

“I– alright…”

When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.

“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.

You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”

Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”

Your heart catches in your throat.

“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”

“I was drunk when I said that.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.

Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”

Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.

You should say no and go home.

It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.

But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours.

“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”

Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.

As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours.

As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.

Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness.

“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says.

When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core.

You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth.

Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact.

It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells… you’re soaked.”

You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs.

“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him.

You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more.

“Aemond, please…”

He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.”

Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.

“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”

Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone.

Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.

“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that.

Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.

He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.

“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”

Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no.

That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.

But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.

And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.

You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away.

As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before.

His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.

You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.

Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you.

He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you.

Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.

“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.

“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again.

There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away.

So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.

When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.

“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door.

After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.

You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you.

“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase.

Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.

“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.

But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”

You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.

“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more.

He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.

He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.

“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”

To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips.

“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”

Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.

You’re greedy. So greedy.

You love the way Aemond makes you feel.

He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.

You revel in it.

Greedy. Greedy. Greedy.

“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”

Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.

You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry — you don’t know why but that’s how you like it.

(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)

At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second.

Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.

Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again…

It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.

You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning.

Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.

Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you.

“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips.

“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.

Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch.

Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.

You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.

“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.

Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face.

“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.

You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”

Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.

Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”

Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt.

As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.

It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.

“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”

“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”

“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”

In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.

Aemond already knows who it is.

It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.

Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother.

“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.

Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.

Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles.

He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen.

When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him.

He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.

It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him.

You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while.

Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.

All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”

Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry.

Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.

“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.

“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”

“And you think I want to know?”

“Just– tell me–”

“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known.

Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger.

“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.

Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.

Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”

You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”

Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.

And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.

Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.

Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her.

He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to.

It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago.

But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young.

Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.

Rinse and repeat.

The cycle will never end.

Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority.

Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings.

But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen.

“Hey, are you ready yet?”

Speak of the devil…

Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it.

“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.

Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”

Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”

Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.

Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?”

Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?

“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”

With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.”

Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit.

Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically.

Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop.

Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head.

“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”

At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even.

“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”

Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”

Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated.

So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.

With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing.

“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”

Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”

Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.

It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there.

When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them.

Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.

Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.

That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.

So pretty, like a shining star.

So close, yet so out of reach.

Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder.

With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.

With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.

As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.

In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,

You do?

Aegon nods.

Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns.

It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.

And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life.

All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given.

When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.

When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.

But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.

Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.

Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.

Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit.

And Aemond?

He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd #aemond #aemond targaryen

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justafewsmallsteps · 17 hours

Text

Another quick art and ficlet for @kagomes-hanakotobamatsuri ! This one focused on Week 3, Fertility and I used the Yellow Rose (new beginnings) as my inspiration flower. I started writing this while I was pregnant 2 years ago, but didn’t get around to finishing it until now.

Title: Potatoes Word Count: 1113 Rating: T Pairing: Inukag Warnings: Pregnancy

Try as she might, Kagome couldn’t help the uncontrollable (and unreasonable) flood of negative emotions that came with her unfulfilled pregnancy craving.

Wacdonald’s, of all things. Of course she was craving one of the most unobtainable foods possible in Sengoku and one of the easiest to find in her modern Tokyo.

She didn’t really feel regret at leaving the modern world behind, not with Inuyasha and a life of friends and nature to surround her, and yet…

Kagome found herself seething in angry tears. Angry at her body, angry at her attitude, angry at life. While she was always an emotional person, this hormone-induced storm was driving her crazy. She felt everything stronger, and no amount of logic or sleep was pulling her out of it because when she really really thought about it, it was all so unfair. She was raging at the world for making her choose between one family and another. The past was her future, and the future was now her past. But why did she have to choose? Why couldn’t she have a child with the love of her life and introduce her baby to her mother and grandfather and brother? Her righteous sorrow and her selfish cravings swirled into an indistinguishable mass of feelings. One second there was joy, another pain, the next irrepressible annoyance. She was guilty that she felt this way, upset as a tantruming toddler over a greasy burger and salty fried potatoes.

And ultimately she was sad to be so far from her mother.

Her thoughts turned to her poor husband.

Inuyasha had been very sweet since she’d gotten back, and her pregnancy ramped up his doting completely. From warming her bath, to fetching her the ripest fruits, to building her the most comfortable approximation of a mattress possible, she felt spoiled and grateful. But her pregnancy-addled brain and hormonal body had her feeling so at odds with her heart. She loved being here. She loved her friends and the family they found in each other. She loved Inuyasha.

Yet she longed for the crepes at the Shinjuku station mall, ice cream from a stand, steak from the grocery store cooked at home… her mouth was practically a waterfall at the thought. But by far the biggest craving was a Wacdonald’s cheeseburger with extra cheese and a side of fries dipped in ketchup. Make that two sides of fries. She could cry thinking about it, which she knew was stupid.

It didn’t help that so many things made her feel nauseous. She’d helped out with pregnant mothers before, giving them herbs to help, learning from Kaede the rough timeline. She’d given reassurances and her best empathy, but in the throes of morning sickness Kagome wished to strangle her past naivety—and as much as she adored Kaede, the woman never actually had to go through pregnancy.

Sango helped the most, understanding her anger, giving practical advice to give her the slightest relief. After all, carrying the twins had been an ordeal.

But Kagome was tired of ginger root and plain rice.

She was tired in general. It has been such a joy to find out she was pregnant, and the first few weeks were a breeze. Then the morning sickness kicked in and subsequently kicked her ass. Morning sickness. God, it was unending sickness. Any time of the day sickness! She huddled under her blanket, willing the fatigue and nausea away.

Then Inuyasha emerged from the door with her requested pile of potatoes. His look was apprehensive. He wanted to help her in any way he could, knowing that his wife often repressed cries for her mother.

“I scrubbed ‘em already, and the pan’s good to go.”

“Thank you, Inuyasha.”

“I’ll cut ‘em too. It’s supposed to be like sticks, right?”

She nodded. “Not too thin though.” Her husband was really good with a knife. She might be envious of his skills if he wasn’t such a good partner.

Before he could start chopping, she stopped him. “Wait! Maybe cubes are better. They’ll move around the pan more easily.”

“‘Kay,” he replied easily.

Kagome stifled a groan as she slowly got up. Inuyasha had set the pan to heat already, so all she had to do was add the oil.

“This look alright?” Inuyasha asked, checking in with her about the size.

“Those look good.”

Something about the sound of him chopping away triggered something. Everything triggered some emotion or another—but the domestic simplicity of their lives came at her full force as she heard the rhythmic sounds of their knife hitting their wooden chopping block.

“It’s wonderful,” she whimpered, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Woah, woah!” The hanyou turned around in concern, his hand immediately at her back to try to comfort her. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her head and sobbed, unable to hold it back. “It’s just the hormones, but I do think you’re wonderful. I’m so lucky to have you!” she wailed.

His entire being was on high alert since she got pregnant, and even though he knew emotional outbursts were bound to happen, he still went into overdrive trying to make sense of it and fix whatever he could. “T-thanks.”

“Thank you for getting me potatoes so we could try making fries. I’m sorry I’m probably going to hate it or throw it up but it’s the closest thing I have to Wacdonald’s.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled.

“I told you, woman, I’ll do anything I can. I’m sorry we don’t got wako’s or whatever here.”

“I’m being unreasonable.”

“It’s normal. You know it is. I know it is. You shoulda seen Miroku while Sango was having her cravings. Damn near swindled every ingredient from every vendor in every town just to find something she couldn’t remember the name of.”

Kagome gave a watery laugh. “That makes me feel better.”

“We’ll make something good, and if you hate it and retch I’ll make you two something else.”

‘Us two,’ Kagome thought in awe, placing her hand on her belly. “We appreciate you.” She sent him a smile and got on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw.

“Yeah, yeah. If you’re done, I’m going to go finish cutting now,” he brushed off, trying to hide his blush as he turned around.

“Okay, but we’re following you,” Kagome declared. As her husband resumed chopping the rest of the potatoes, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his back.

“I’m gonna be done in five seconds, you know.”

“Go slower.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, but the quick beat of the chopping slowed to a different, sweeter ballad, and Kagome hummed contentedly along.

#inuyasha #inukag #kagome higurashi #khm2024 #kagshanakotoba #jelly art #jelly fic #pregnancy #please excuse how often I have typos #I mostly write in short spurts on my phone #same with proof reading #sorryyyy

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zeroeightzeroone · 3 days

Note

Hiyaa,

I have a request?

Producer!Bang chan x reader

Established relationship

Angst/comfort

Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.

The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.

Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.

Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺

And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after

creative differences - bang chan

genre: angst, comfort, eventual fluff

pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity

notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words

wc ~4.3 | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.

the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.

bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.

currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.

letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.

at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.

with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"

he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.

"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.

"which ones?" changbin questions.

han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"

"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."

"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."

"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."

"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.

"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"

chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."

the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.

"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.

"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.

at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."

changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"

han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.

"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."

han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.

"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."

a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.

"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."

"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"

chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."

"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."

"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.

"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.

"that's what i'm hearing!"

"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."

"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."

"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"

the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.

"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."

han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.

"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.

"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."

"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.

"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."

"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.

"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."

chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.

meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.

when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.

"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"

they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.

"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."

"we?"

changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."

your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"

not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.

"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."

you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.

you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.

chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.

"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"

when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.

when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."

"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"

you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."

chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.

"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"

"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.

"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.

"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.

"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."

you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."

chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:

"yeah? sure."

the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.

"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.

chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.

moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.

meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.

"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.

you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"

chan shrugs, "for this. being here."

you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."

you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.

"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"

the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.

you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.

you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."

"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."

chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."

your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.

"thank you," chan repeats.

this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"

"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."

you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."

chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.

in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."

you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.

"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"

you nod.

"really? you're not just saying that?"

you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."

chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.

"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."

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mydearestdaryl · 1 day

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Drabbles of Heather being walking baby fever.

Warnings: None, I think, hehe.

Pairing: Daryl x Greene! reader (they're in love, they just don't know yet).

Setting: Prison.

A/N: I try but can't find the inspiration to write Mama pt. 2, so here's this compilation of a few short drabbles of Heather in the prison era to make up for it. I tried to explore more of her bond with the entire group, not just reader, which was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much. Thank you for reading!

Grandpa's magic.

Little Heather was growing. She was almost 2 and a half years old, which meant she was more talkative, independent, and enjoyed playing and having fun more than napping; the opposite from her infant days.

The toddler was currently tucked in for a nap in the bottom bunk of the cell she shared with Carl, Daryl reading her latest favorite story from a book you found for her: Cinderella. “An' they lived happy ever after, night-night baby,” Daryl said, before kissing Heather's head and getting up from his spot on the bed.

“No night-night!” Heather announced, kicking the sheets off her and sitting up. She yawned, evidently tired, but fully determined to resume playing bubbles with Beth as they had been ten minutes ago. “Bubbles, Daddy,” she suggested, her little legs dangling off the bed as she pointed at her shoes; a silent request for her daddy to get them on.

“No bubbles, Heather, yea gotta take a nap, ya'll get all cranky if yea don', like (Y/N),” he joked as he watched you walk by, earning a sarcastic ha-ha from you.

“No nap,” the toddler stated, jumping off the bed to get her shoes on herself. Behind him, Daryl heard a laugh, finding Hershel slowly crunching down the hallway, “Ershel help!” Heather exclaimed as she saw him too, lifting a shoe up and waving it at the grey-haired man.

The old man, laughed again, turning to hobble on his crutches into the kid's room. “How may I assist you today, young lady?”

“I need ma shoes on,” the little one said, holding it up so Hershel could take it.

“Well, I heard it's your nap time,” Hershel mentioned, sitting at the edge of the toddler's bed and slowly lying down on the bed. “I was going to take a nap myself, but I was looking for some company so we could share some cookies when we woke up.”

Curiously eyeing her daughter to see if the old man's trick worked, Daryl lightly snorted as he watched her gasp excitedly, rushing to the edge of the bed and trying to climb up, succeeding with help from Hershel.

In a scene far too endearing, the toddler crawled on top of the old man, using his chest as a pillow and holding him comfortably as she allowed her tired eyes to close now without a fight, “night Ershel,” she mumbled, her excited smile fading into a resting expression as she quickly fell asleep.

“Yea actually got cookies?” Daryl asked in a whisper, brushing a strand of hair out of his baby girl's face.

“Glenn found some Oreos on yesterday's run,” Hershel whispered back, closing his own eyes too, fixing the pillow under his head. “I might as well rest a bit too,” he mentioned. “I'll let you know when she's up.”

With a nod, a mumbled 'thank you,' and a gentle pat on the older man's shoulder, Daryl left his daughter's cell.

There was a weird feeling in his chest, but it wasn't bad. He just never thought her kid would have such an amazing grandfather figure. He was more determined now to find the deer Hershel had been talking about craving a few days ago.

So much love.

Toddling into the kitchen for dinner after story time with her dad, hand inside his, Heather beamed when she saw you, running to you as fast as her tiny legs allowed her to hug your leg. “I love you, (Y/N)!” she exclaimed.

“Aw, I love you too, munchkin,” you happily replied, picking her up and hugging her while tickling her neck with your nose, eliciting the sweetest laugh from her. Then you set her down on the floor again, and she rushed to Beth.

“She jus' learned what it means,” Daryl explained, taking a seat next to you.

“I love you means,” Daryl started, pausing as he thought of the answer. He was not sure since he had never truly experienced something like that. Maybe during his childhood, when his mom was alive. Perhaps even the way he felt for you now… it came close. Hell, maybe it was.

“'S when someone makes yea feel real happy like yer heart smiles when you're with 'em. An' they make you feel good about everythin', like things are gonna be alrigh",” he explained. “'S when you wanna kiss them face all the time, an' give em hugs,” he added, kissing his daughter's face over and over until she pushed him away playfully.

“Love you, Bef,” the tiny human said to your youngest sister.

“Love you, Heather,” Beth giggled, placing a kiss on the toddler's cheek, who received it happily and went on to her next 'victim.'

“Love you, Cawl,” she stated confidently despite the R's still being a bit tricky for her. She hugged the fellow kid, who hugged her back before tickling her. She chuckled, trying to tickle Carl back.

“Love you, Cawol,” she said to the older woman as she ran to her. Carol's face softened and responded by ruffling the girl's hair.

“Me too, little one” Carol uttered.

“Love you, Wick,” she told Rick hugging his leg, still a bit unable to pronounce his name, making the former cop exhale a laugh, “and I love the baby,” Heather added in a whisper, feeling rather grown as she was now the oldest baby in the group.

“Right back at ya, kid,” Rick said, playfully poking her tummy. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the remaining group members.

“I love ya, Glenn,” she threw herself into the young man's awaiting arms, getting twirled in a bear hug that made her laugh out loud. When her feet touched the ground again, she immediately ran to your other sister, “I love you, Maggie,” she said while the latter placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Love you, Heather,” she replied with a big smile.

“I love you, Ershel,” Heather giggled as she reached up to be held by the old man, who happily obliged.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Still smiling, she ran back to Daryl, chanting as she approached him, “And I love you the mostest, Daddy!” He welcomed her into a big embrace, repeatedly kissing her cheek, tickling her neck with his beard as usual, and making the kitchen echo with her sweet, childish laugh.

Tiny human, big feelings.

“Hey, Heather, check this out!” Carl called the little girl, excited to show her his new slingshot. However, the toddler was too focused on her tea party with Bunny, her plushie, to respond or even look at him, so the boy decided to shoot the smallest rock in his pocket near her direction to get her attention.

Big mistake.

Not proficient enough with his aim, Carl shot the rock straight at Bunny's head, knocking its eye off. A gasp escaped Heather's little mouth before she screamed in terror.

All the adults gathered in the kitchen where she was with concerned expressions to see what the fuss was about, Daryl being the first to get there. The hunyer eyed Carl suspiciously for a second before he kneeled next to his daughter, wide, scared eyes scanning her in search of an injury.

“Wha's wrong, sweetheart? Yea hurt?”

You approached the scene, placing a hand on Carl's shoulder to ask if he was okay, Rick doing the same on his other side. The poor boy looked so guilty.

“Bunny, Daddy!” Heather sobbed, showing her father the one-eyed toy before holding it close to her chest as she cried in her daddy's arms. “Cawl hurt 'im!”

“I- I didn't mean to! I just wanted to show her my slingshot,” Carl confessed, his voice growing quiet at the end, dropping his head when he noticed Heather's uncharacteristically enraged glare toward him. “I'm really sorry Heather, I can fix i-” he started, kneeling to her height and trying to reach for the toy, but she yanked it away.

“NO!” She shouted, tears still streaming down her chubby cheeks as her dad lifted her up, trying to shush her. “Bad Cawl!”

Gulping down the urge to scream at the boy for making his baby girl sad—breaking cycles, as he heard you say once, Daryl simply patted his shoulder with a frown, “Go on, le's give 'er space ta calm down,” he suggested to everyone; the crowd soon dispersing, going on about their chores.

“Daddy, fix it,” Heather pleaded as her tears and hiccups subsided, nearly 10 minutes later.

“Y'know, I'm gonna need Carl's help with this,” he winked toward the boy, who had been sitting nearby with his dad, resolute on getting the toddler to forgive him. “Whaddaya think, sweetheart? Carl wants to make it better too.”

“'Kay, but be caweful,” she warned them, reaching for Rick to hold her as Carl darted to Beth's cell to borrow her sewing supplies while Daryl got the patient ready on the table. Rick blew raspberries on the girl's tummy, successfully making her laugh again and distracting her from the eye surgery performed behind them.

“All done!” Carl presented it proudly, getting Heather's attention, although she still stared at him with resentment. “He's good as new, see?” Carl added, handing the plushie to her gently. Taking it in her tiny hands, she inspected her treasured toy.

“Heather, I'm real sorry. Can Bunny, you, and I be friends again?” Carl begged, finding her gaze when she tried to avoid his eyes, making her giggle as she was doing it on purpose.

She considered with toddler wisdom. Carl did fix it after all, and Bunny was all ready to play now. Humming while tapping her finger pensively against her delicate chin longer than necessary just because, she finally agreed, “Ok, we're fwiends.”

Wriggling excitedly out of Rick's grasp, she grabbed Carl's hand and dragged him back to her tea party to play. No slingshots were allowed this time, though.

Taglist: @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon headcanons #daryl dixon x reader #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #dad!daryl

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whitedarkmoonflower · 3 days

Text

Dream

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: @foxyanon this is for you. Your request was absolutely amasing and I just hope I've done justice to it. 💖My warmest thanks to lovely @arcielee for beta reading, you are awsome and your comments literally made my day 😘

Warnings: angst, longing, some lowkey SMUT 18+ nothing explicit, use of she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 2,6 K

Inspired by the The Apparition by Sleep Token

Why are you never real? Whenever you appear You leave me with that grace I am trembling with fear But I know that you will disappear Just as I awake Whisper in my ear Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

He awoke with a silent cry trembling on his lips, hands instinctively reaching to wipe tears from his wet cheeks, his breath panting as if he were drowning in his own sobs. He had dreamt of her. Again.

The sensation lingered in his fingertips: the soft touch of her palm against his, the echo of her laughter wrapping around him like a warm summer breeze on a cool evening. He couldn’t recall her face anymore. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure she was real; just a fleeting memory or fantasy conjured by the ghosts of his past, taunting him anew.

And yet from the moment he had set his foot on Dunholm’s rocky ground, he dreamt of her almost nightly. The sweetness of their shared moments intertwined with the bitter ache of longing, all overshadowed by the burning flame of guilt for having failed her, that made him wake up with a cry, forehead covered in sweat and heart racing.

Sihtric’s eyes wandered the small room, slowly adjusting to the darkness, disturbed only by the faint glow of the waning moon. With a deep sigh ripping through him, Sihtric swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. His bare feet brought him to the window. The rough uneven wooden floor was a constant reminder of the past times indelible from the deepest corners of his mind, of times long ago when his feet pounded the very same wooden floor, with each step carving the memory of these paths into his very being.

The dreams were too real, clinging to him with all the colours, smells and sounds, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. A taste of remorse and longing.

Sihtric lifted his hands, shielding his eyes with his palms and gently rubbing them, as though attempting to cleanse himself of the haunting impressions left by the dream. He had seen her so clearly, the colourful images spinning around in his head.

Her hair loose and billowing in the wind, her merry laughter a bright messenger of joy as she skipped through the meadow, the gentle fingers of the rising sun caressing her glowing skin.

She was the light in the darkness, the breeze of the fresh air in his lungs. Her laughter was a thread through the haze of his crippled existence. Just as the damp earth after a rainfall carries the scent of rebirth, her aroma was that of a promise of a new beginning – a gentle mix of sweet wild berries and midsummer flowers woven into her hair.

His body and mind ached for her, longing for their fingers to intertwine as he would willingly follow her wherever she led.

And then the kiss – his very first. Fingers trembling, heart pounding against his chest like a wild drum. She leaned against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree by the river, the tranquil sound of water splashing against the sandy bank filling the air. Pressing his palm against the rough bark, he sought to steady his racing heart, drawing strength from the solid presence of the majestic giant. The softness of her pale skin thrilled him as his other hand gently touched her cheek, tenderly guiding her gaze towards him.

“I… I want to kiss you,” he whispered softly, his breath catching in his throat, drowning in the depths of two sparkling eyes, pleading for his touch.

“What are you waiting for?” A sweet, lighthearted giggle echoed around him, and he released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. With closed eyes, his dry, chapped lips timidly brushed against her soft ones, like a fragile whisper dancing on the edge of a sigh, like two lonely travellers adrift in the vast expanse of a starlit night, seeking refuge and salvation.

“Sihtric ...” his name rolled off her lips, mingling with a soft whimper as his both palms cupped her face, their breaths picking up.

Sihtric's fingertips traced down to his lips, pausing there. He stood motionless for a moment, leaning against the window frame, arms crossing over his chest and breath catching in the cool night air as he attempted to summon her face from the depths of his memory. Yet it remained elusive and all he found was shadows dancing in his mind's eye. A silent curse escaped his parted lips. He had long ago banished these memories, fortified them behind a wall of self assured certainty that there was nothing he could do, that it was for the best.

The mocking grin of the moon looked down at him from the height of his throne in the nightly sky. It sent shivers down Sihtric’s spine.

"I didn't abandon her, I was sent away," Sihtric whispered, the words barely audible over the night's gentle breeze. "Away... away... away..." echoed through the empty yard, his own voice a cruel taunt. "I inquired about her in the village after the fall of Dunholm, but no one knew anything.”

The sound of his fist connecting with the wooden wall shattered the serene silence of the night. The impact reverberating through the stillness like a thunderclap – hollow and darksome.

Yes, he had searched for her. A solitary visit to the nearby village where he knew she hailed from, greeted by anxious faces hastily retreating into their ramshackle homes, peering cautiously through the safety of their shuttered windows. The presence of Danes had always brought fear and uncertainty to them.

He had inquired about her at the small, dusty inn, amidst discussions of purchasing horses and timber to aid Ragnar in repairing the damaged gates. The host, suspiciously eyeing them, poured ale and swiftly pocketed the silver Uhtred had tossed his way.

Sihtric wasn’t sure what he had feared more: finding her happily married, her eyes denying him recognition and filled with fear, or discovering her waiting for him, unable to offer her anything. Nevertheless, he asked, quickly finding satisfaction in the host's indifferent shrug, as he explained that many had left in recent years due to meagre harvests, and there were no women matching Sihtric’s description in the village.

It was that one moment as they mounted their horses, Sihtric thought he heard her voice, calling his name. He cast a wary glance around the deserted square, the only sound a mocking crow's cry echoing through the stillness. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel a vision, before leaving his past behind like a worn boot—ten long years ago.

And now he stood once more in this place—Lord of Dunholm, a title that sent a shiver down his spine with each utterance. The shadows began to shift, the night's veil slowly lifting to reveal the faint glimmer of the sun lingering behind the horizon.

“I... I crave you... it's something I can't conceal... I've never seen anyone so beautiful..." his breath grew ragged, the silkiness of her flawless skin beneath his fingertips stirring an excitement unknown to him.

"Oh God," she gasped, her body arching against the soft blanket of moss and grass he had carefully laid her upon, his clumsy fingers seeking their way to her core, hungry lips stealing the soft moan escaping her.

"Please, tell me to stop," he pleaded almost desperately, voice quivering, unsure, even scared of where this journey would lead them. Yet unable to release her, unable to tear his gaze from her.

“Don’t… please, don’t stop,” a shaky moan from her parted lips forced a low groan from him, his fingers dipping in her hot tightness. “It feels so good, too good… Sihtric, please, I want to feel more of it. I have never felt anything like this before,” she whispered through panting breaths.

He had never touched anyone like this before; his limited knowledge gleaned from overhearing drunken chatter around firesides or hushed conversations in the kitchens as staying unnoticed had become almost second nature to him.

His own breathing getting more and more uneven with each quivering whimper, each soft moan leaving her lips; he watched her body responding to his touch, her breasts heaving, gaze getting glazy and eyes rolling back into her head.

She seemed almost otherworldly to him—her eyes curious and trusting, unburdened by fear or suspicion, her smile so radiant it felt like the warmth of the first sun rays in spring melting the snow of his desolation.

What had he done to deserve the gods sending her his way? A vision on an early morning, peacefully gathering flowers in the solitary meadow by the river where he had brought the horses to graze for the first time. His resort, a ray of light, piercing the dark loneliness of his soul, keeping him from drowning in it.

Each time he returned, fear gripped his heart, his eyes scanning the secluded meadow, his back against the lonely oak by the riverbank. What if she didn't come? But she always did, and his heart danced with joy, bathed in the soothing warmth of her genuine smile.

It had been so long ago. He had been just a boy, falling in love for the first time in his life.

Sihtric rubbed his sleepy eyes. Not a day passed without him believing he had caught a glimpse of her—whether in the shadows of the long corridors, the dark corners of the spacious great hall, or even his own bedroom. He knew his mind played tricks on him, yet each time his eyes seemed to capture that fleeting silhouette; he couldn't resist leaping to his feet, reaching out only to grasp empty air.

Hastily dressing in his breeches and boots, he tugged on a linen shirt while descending the stairs, snatching his leather tunic on the way out. Urged by an inexplicable force, he allowed his feet to guide him to the stables where he mounted his unsaddled mare.

"Open the gates!" his voice boomed across the yard, jolting the drowsy guards into action. They hurried to obey their lord's command, their eyes wide with surprise as they watched Sihtric spur his horse into a gallop.

The old, majestic oak tree welcomed Sihtric with a soft rustle of its green leaves in the wind. Leaning his head against the mighty trunk, he pressed his palms against its weathered bark, seeking solace and reassurance in the tranquil serenity of its solid presence, just as he had done before.

“Oh Sihtric,” she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, as he slowly forced himself inside her. The feeling of her tight walls gradually parting, wrapping around him and letting him in so overwhelming, he was afraid he would pass out.

Heart frantically beating against the cage of his chest, he froze, breath withheld, seeing tears pearling in the corners of her closed eyes.

“Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?”

A vehement shake of the head, her hips rising to meet him, was the only answer, and he leaned in, trembling lips brushing against her parted ones to kiss away the deep sigh drifting from them.

“I love you, Sihtric!”

“I love you too, and I always will,” he breathed, his hips starting to move, meeting hers with every slow thrust, breath quickening, like the rush of a rising tide.

He had never put much stock in the tales his mother whispered under the veil of night, her gentle hands pulling their only blanket tighter around him, shielding him from the cold. Stories of beautiful angels, guiding lost souls back to the light—until he encountered one. An angel in disguise, wandering the earth and plucking flowers from the meadow.

She arched her back, enveloping him in the embrace of her fragile arms, and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, drinking in her sweet, intoxicating scent, his deep moans mingling with her soft whimpers.

He had meant every word of it. Without a shadow of doubt clouding his mind, he had made a promise—a promise destined to be shattered in the days that followed, as the Norns had already woven the threads of his fate, laughing over his youthful resolve.

Tears blurred his vision as he made his way back to Dunholm. He had waited until the first rays of the sun, knowing it was futile, knowing she wouldn’t come, as it was not the right day. There had been no goodbyes, no sweet kisses sealing the promise to return—just a lonely heart carved into the thick bark of the old oak tree, the silent witness to their happiness.

The sound of a dry branch cracking beneath feet jolted Sihtric, prompting him to turn his head.

“My lord, are you alright?” a slightly concerned voice inquired, and Sihtric's moist eyes met two sparkling, mismatched pools of brown and blue.

“I... I’m...” he stammered, his own uncertainty mirrored in the growing fear in those eyes as they darted down to his chest, fixating on the pendant of Thor's hammer hanging there.

Before he could utter another word, two gentle hands released the wild flowers they were holding, allowing them to scatter to the ground as the young girl spun on her heels and began to flee.

"Wait, please! I mean you no harm," Sihtric finally found his voice, but the girl paid no heed.

Sihtric remained rooted to the spot, unable to shake off the shock that held him captive, his gaze tracing the slender silhouette as it vanished from view. Eventually, he stirred, though the girl had already disappeared into the depths of the meadow and the forest beyond.

Driven by an inexplicable compulsion, he followed. Though he didn't want to frighten her, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, propelling him forward through the thorny underbrush. Long branches reached out like bony arms, clawing at his bare skin and leaving behind bloody scratches and bruises, yet he hardly noticed. Emerging from the forest, he beheld a crooked house nestled amidst a small garden.

Approaching cautiously, Sihtric scanned his surroundings, searching for signs of life.

Engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed anyone approaching. The weeds had begun to overtake your small carrot bed, a task long overdue for attention. A cough caught your attention, prompting you to straighten up and glance over, wondering who had ventured from the village to your secluded home.

You both just stood there, eyeing each other with disbelief and bewilderment. Sihtric shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other, unable to tear his gaze away from you, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Here you were—his ghost, his dream, the most beautiful face he had ever seen, his most cherished memory locked away from his consciousness due to its unbearable pain.

Your fingers released the hoe, letting it slip from your grasp to fall to the ground at your feet. Covering your eyes with your hands, hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you staggered, struggling to maintain control over your wobbly knees.

In two long strides, Sihtric was beside you, his strong arms encircling your shoulders, providing support. Torn between the desire to push him away and to melt into his embrace, you remained rooted in place, sobs wracking your body as he enveloped you in his warm presence, like a comforting blanket.

"Gods, you are here. You have always been here," Sihtric whispered, his lips grazing your hair. "My love… I… I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. Will you ever believe that? Will you ever forgive me?"

"Mom, in the meadow where you always send me to pick flowers, I met a Dane today," a girl's voice rang out, as she appeared in the doorframe of the old house, freezing in her tracks as her eyes widened at the scene before her.

"She is mine. Isn't she?" Sihtric asked, tears starting to flow freely down his cheeks, yet he made no move to wipe them away. He didn't need your confirmation.

With a soft thud, he allowed himself to sink to the ground, his knees meeting the damp earth of the garden as he buried his face into your belly, arms enveloping your frame. The fearless warrior and the Lord of Dunholm cried, unashamed of his tears, while your fingers gently stroked his hair.

Comment or write to me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

@verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07

@mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey @ladyinred2248

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

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bots-and-cons · 3 days

Note

Hello there. This isn't my first time requesting, but it is my first time requesting to you. I read your rules carefully, if I somehow still managed to get it wrong, let me know. There is human baby that is very affectionate. They are always excited to see the Autobots and always giving them a kiss on the cheek or hugging them everytime their feeling down (Platonic). Ratchet and Arcee, please and thank you.

A/N: I wrote this with the reader having a baby/toddler, that they bring to the base occasionally, so the reader is the parent in this case. I didn’t really know how else to write this. There's also this post, this post, and this post about a similar topic

~Arcee~

•When you first brought your baby to the base they were just a few weeks old, so they’ve basically been around the autobots since they were very, very young

•Arcee ended up being the baby’s favorite autobot, and she became very attached to the baby too

•It’s not like you can leave the baby alone with the bots for like the first year, at least not for longer periods of time

•A big part of that is that the autobots are all so big, and might have a hard time holding and handling the baby

•Arcee is smaller than any of the others so she has an easier time handling small creatures, such as a baby or a toddler

•Arcee thinks it’s very interesting to watch your kid grow, and she also finds it very hopeful, like how a creature as weak and fragile such as a baby, can grow into someone so resilient and strong as you

•The kid comes to think of Arcee as a part of the family, and she’s their favorite babysitter

•You’re good friends with Arcee as well, so you spend a lot of time together, and your kid of course is there too

•The kid loves to hug Arcee and be held by her, and Arcee loves holding them and keeping them safe

~Ratchet~

•Ratchet isn’t exactly ecstatic about a baby at the base, because he feels like a baby might disturb his work

•As if that doesn’t happen with the team and the kids too, but surely a baby would be too much

•But when he meets your baby for the first time, it’s an absolutely awe-inspiring moment

•Ratchet has never seen a real baby before, and they’re so tiny and fragile and… adorable?

•Sure the baby sometimes makes some unwanted noise, but in general, they’re a pretty calm and happy baby

•Ratchet looks after your baby when you’re busy with work/studies, so you can work freely

•You’re still at the base when you work, and he comes get you when he doesn’t know what to do with the baby or when they need something

•Ratchet grows very attached to the baby, and he does his absolute best to keep them safe and happy

•In a weird way, the baby also does the same for Ratchet, they give him hope about a better tomorrow

•Ratchet is like family to you and your kid, and you all take care of each other, the baby too, even if it’s more on an emotional level with them

•Sometimes Ratchet just holds the baby while he works, because he wants to be absolutely sure they’re safe

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #autobots #arcee #ratchet #tfp headcanons #transformers fluff #reader insert #platonic transformers x reader

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animeniacss · 3 days

Note

heyyyyy bestie it's wonuwrites xo

Soooo I have a request for you~ like I told you in messages I have a drabble/oneshot idea with a Taylor Swift song + Wonwoo because of course it's Wonwoo <3 So the song is the 1 by Taylor Swift. Specifically this lyric: "But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one."

I am excited for this <33

Thank you for waiting! Sorry it took longer than I hoped!

Synopsis: After a year and a half of being broken up, you and Wonwoo reunite briefly. You think back to those days and what could have been different.

Tags: Ex!Wonwoo, Angst, Coffee Shop!AU, T.Swift Inspired Lyrics

Length: approx. 1.8k words

Wonwoo x Reader - The One I Couldn't Be

The café was always empty this early in the morning, and that was how you liked it. It took a few hours for the real foot traffic of the morning commuters to make its way to your work, and that meant a few hours of peace. The only sound was that of the oven whirring behind you, heating up for the string of breakfast sandwiches you were bound to start on.

You were dusting off the top of the display cases when you heard the sound of the bell ringing at the front entrance. Immediately, your head snapped up and you smiled. “Welcome, can I help you?”

When a familiar deep voice uttered your name, your eyes settled on a familiar set of dark eyes behind rimmed glasses and a warm smile.

“Wonwoo.” Despite how much time had passed, you breathed the name with so much familiarity. “Good morning!”

“Good morning.” He said. “Am I early? Are you open yet?”

“Barely. But that’s okay. What can I get you?” You turned towards the machines behind you. “The usual?”

“You still remember?” he chuckled at the realization.

How could I forget? You thought to yourself. “Of course. I only made it for you fifteen million times.” When Wonwoo laughed again, you felt yourself inhaling an extra deep breath. “So, what brings you in? I feel I haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

“I don’t have a reason to be around this part of Seoul anymore.” The comment tugged at your heartstrings, pulling them in the opposite direction and tightening your chest, like when a child tugs furiously at the laces of their shoes and squeezes their foot inside a bit too tight.

“What brings you today, then?” You watched the coffee brew into the pot. “It’s not to see me, is it?” Finally working up the courage to turn back to Wonwoo, you caught a small smile on his lips. His eyes cast down to the display case. “Do you want something to eat? I can pop a sandwich in the oven to warm up.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m okay, thanks.” You approached the register and punched in the order. “How has everything been?”

“Good. You?”

“Fine. Still here.” You motioned to the muted brown walls decorated in florals that boxed you in. Wonwoo only hummed in response, and the both of you fell into awkward silence.

How else could it be with Jeon Wonwoo? Nothing other than awkward felt like it made sense anymore. It was expected really, when you’ve been broken up for almost a year and a half. It was a whirlwind, really, not even long enough for you to process that going forward any interactions with the one person you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with would feel awkward.

Maybe that was why it felt impossible to breathe; as if you were sitting at the bottom of the ocean for the entirety of that year and a half.

As you turned to the coffee machine and began assembling his drink. “Do you remember-.” You paused for a second, wondering if going down memory lane would add to the awkwardness. “When you and I would go to the mall and before we went shopping, we would toss a penny into the fountain outside?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shot up in your direction and he smiled. “Yeah. Of course. To make sure we could find what we were looking for that day.”

“Those were fun times.” You said, just loud enough for him to hear. Even if he gave a curt, one-word reply or a verbal nod, you would feel content. You would feel content knowing that those memories were just as dear to him as they had been to you – still were to you.

“Do you still do it?” You caught a slight tease in his voice though it was masked with a bit of shyness. It seemed even he was treading a tightrope of nostalgia in this moment, neither of you wanting to say too much and risk falling into the depths below.

“Do you?” Wonwoo only chuckled as you passed him his drink. He offered a small thank you. You smiled. “Are you taking this to go?”

Hesitation as Wonwoo scanned the area. “I think I can sit for a minute.” You nodded, watching as he took the first seat in the café; the one closest to you. He even faced you, and it felt like a year and a half ago for a second. Wonwoo sipped his coffee and smiled while you both talked until the café got busy and he was ultimately left for the morning to head to his own job. That is, until you two would see each other in the evenings and everything felt right again.

That part didn’t happen anymore.

“How’s the family?” You asked.

“They’re good. My parents are still my parents.”

“Workaholics?” You hummed, and Wonwoo’s laugh confirmed enough. “What about Bohyuk? Still in the whole fashion model business?”

“Took a break to finish his degree, but he said he wants to get back into it.”

Even in only a year and a half, a lot had changed in Wonwoo’s life. You couldn’t help but wonder how things would be different now if you had left well enough alone, bit down the things that felt so major at the time, but make you cringe in regret now. Did those things really matter? Would they have mattered to you now? The distance between the both of you is so big you’d need a boat to cross it and see him again just to fight about how long the trip took in the first place.

You could have left well enough alone because now all of those moments felt pointless, but not the same kind of pointless as watching two copper pennies drop to the bottom of the fountain’s water. A different, emptier kind of pointless that makes you regret.

Wonwoo decided to break up. While sitting on his bed, a movie idly playing in the background, he had mentioned it.

“We should take some time apart. I think it’s good for both of us.”

That time was a year and a half, a changed social media relationship post, and an ugly cry into the tub of ice cream Jeonghan bought you ago.

Pulling yourself back to the present with talk of life updates, dawning the mask of a sociable customer service worker, you choked out a: “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” You snorted. “Still at the same job? Still playing the same games? What’s new?”

Wonwoo was silent for a beat too long so you finally turned back to face him despite what your facial features might convey about your feelings. Wonwoo had the coffee cup to his lips, eyes cast at one of the decorative paintings hung up on the wall beside him. It had been changed twice since he was here last, and he seemed to notice.

“Different painting? I liked the old one.”

“Oh, you’re changing the subject? That must mean you have something juicy to hide?” Wonwoo didn’t chuckle or laugh under his breath this time. That made your teasing smile fall. “Sorry, maybe it’s not my business. I shouldn’t push.”

“Ah, no.” Wonwoo shook his head. “I was just debating on if I wanted to tell you when I came in here for coffee.”

“Tell me what?” You asked.

Wonwoo seemed a bit unsure. “I feel like it’s inappropriate. After all this time.”

“Is it some kinky thing?” Wonwoo finally laughed again, shaking his head. A bit of blush formed on his cheeks.

“You’re terrible. No.” You were silent despite a small smile on your face, watching as Wonwoo shifted in his seat. “I met someone.”

“Ah.” You didn’t intend for the sound to escape your lips, but when it did your chest deflated. “That’s lovely. Is she nice?” Of course, she is. You thought. Wonwoo only attracts nice people….

“She is.” He said. You could see the fondness in his eyes. “We met at this party Mingyu took me to about six months ago. We’re meeting up today about 15 minutes down the road.”

“The aquarium?” Wonwoo nodded. “Aw, that’s really nice.” Wonwoo’s eyes relaxed a bit, as did the rest of his body. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He seemed to have finished his coffee since he didn’t lift it up for more sips. “What about you?”

“Pah.” You scoffed. “Nothing but men looking for hook-ups, or the guys who won’t leave you alone when you’ve politely turned them down.”

“Ah, sorry to hear that.”

You shrugged passively because it didn’t bother you. “I’ve taken a break from all that. This-.” You motioned to the four walls and the display case in front of you. “-Causes me more than enough stress.” A beat of silence, and you added. “I’m happy for you, though.”

“Thank you.” He got up from his seat and walked back over to the display case. For a second his eyes dropped to it, scanning the contents. “I think I might take something to eat for the trip.”

“Okay.” Hands reached into the case and pulled out two muffins, chocolate chip and blueberry. “Here.”

“Ah. Two?” He blinked. “I’m Mingyu, you know. I don’t eat that much at once.”

“It’s for your girlfriend, Wonwoo.” This had been only the second time you said his name this morning, yet it felt so natural escaping your lips yet again. “That’d be kind of rude of you to not show up with anything for her.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Wonwoo smiled. When he reached into his pocket, you stuck your hand out. He looked confused as his eyes met yours again.

“Don’t worry. On me.” You said.

“What? I couldn’t.”

“Too bad.” You said. “I insist. Thanks for coming to visit.”

Reluctantly Wonwoo put his wallet back in his pocket and nodded with a grateful thank you. In a few minutes, Wonwoo would be out of your café once again, this time heading to see someone else rather than to kill time before being in your arms once again.

The thought hurt, but it hurt less seeing Wonwoo smile the way he did. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Mm. You too.” Wonwoo fixed his glasses, waving his hand as he headed out of the café. You watched his back get smaller and smaller, turning as he passed by the window and down the street. Just like that, you were left alone in the café like you had been ten minutes earlier. Only now, you heart was heavier.

As the day went on, serving customers and cleaning tables, your mind weighed heavy on the topic of: what would be different now if I had been the one? Could I have done anything differently to keep Wonwoo in my grasp?

Were we always destined to grow apart this way?

As evening pulled over the city you locked up the café and stepped onto the street, bag slung over your shoulder and cap pulled over your sleepy eyes.

With the moonlight as your only companion, you made your way home, your mind finally quieting down with questions a year and a half too old to be answered. Well, one question you had today was answered.

He didn’t come back to town just to see you.

If you want to request something, post in my inbox and check my requests post!

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