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twogyuu · 3 months

Text

the unoriginal villain origin story

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader (ft. friend!Wonwoo)

Synopsis: In which Jeonghan and his friends recount the series of unfortunate events that led to you.

Alternatively, in which maybe leaving it up to fate Wonwoo is all Jeonghan really needed to do all along.

Genre: Fluff, crack, angst if you squint, cliche af, prequel to Thursday's Child Has Far to Go anthology, dilf!jeonghan, uncle!wonwoo (he's engaged LOL), part university!au, mild E2L (they're not really enemies, but OC definitely trying to stay AWAY from Jeonghan at first), one-sided turned mutual pining

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food/alcohol, mildly suggestive (they just kiss and jeonghan likes skinship), reader is shorter than jeonghan, jeonghan changes hair color a couple times, wonwoo just swallows food without chewing like a maniac, proofread but not well, there are inconsistencies between this and easter egg's dropped about their relationship in other fics (i will fix that some day!)

wc: ~14.6k

A/N: I had so much trouble posting this T^T First long fic in a while🫶🏻 It's not my best story nor is it that deep, but made me feel all sorts of giddy 💞 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing!

“So,” Leah starts with her mouth half-full, capturing the table’s attention. She’s quick to cover her lips and swallow her food before continuing. “I’m curious,” she points between Jeonghan and you, “How’d you two end up together? As long as I’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve been married.”

Immediately, Wonwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his dinner on his friend sitting across the table. Jeonghan scorns in disgust, frowning, offended as to why Wonwoo finds his fiance’s question amusing. In contrast, you seem to lose your appetite, silver fork clattering against your half-filled ceramic plate. You grow quiet, straightening your spine and avoiding eye contact like you were back in middle school, caught red-handed with a confession letter to your crush.

“I honestly thought she was going to end up with Baekho – she loathed Jeonghan with a passion,” Wonwoo chuckles to himself as he redirects his chopsticks at your husband. “But Jeonghan knocked her up – that’s what happened.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan is quick to defend. He sighs, shooting Wonwoo a bored, but annoyed look, “That’s not what happened – do you have to put it that way?”

The other man only shrugs his shoulders, raising his palms to the sky playing innocent and oblivious.

Leah’s eyes flicker back and forth between you and your husband, then sweet Nina. Leah’s innocent smile slowly fading as you neither confirmed or answered. She isn’t aware that this was a sensitive topic for you and Jeonghan, and the last thing she wants to do is offend her fiance’s friends! The two of you just seem to get along so well and so in love, for lack of a better description, it’s hard for Leah to imagine much malice as to how you met and got together. Yet, this raises the additional worrisome, unfounded suspicion: Did you and Jeonghan just get married out of convenience?

No – that couldn’t be! Wonwoo is a sensible man; he wouldn’t be laughing if it was a pitiful marriage of convenience.

“She didn’t hate me,” Jeonghan starts to explain.

“She blocked your number after the blind date,” Wonwoo interjects.

You met during a blind date?

“It wasn’t even our blind date,” Jeonghan quickly shoots back. He clenches his jaw, clearly getting fed up with Wonwoo’s teasing.

This is certainly interesting for Leah . . . Jeonghan frequently annoyed Wonwoo, not that the latter gave the older gentleman the reaction he wanted, but it is rare to see Wonwoo get under Jeonghan’s skin.

“It wasn’t, which makes it all the funnier,” Wonwoo comments, “In fact, she was technically,” Wonwoo holds his fingers up in air quotes, “‘my blind date.’”

“I was merely doing you a favor by tagging along – and it was free food!” you finally exclaim, frowning at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo waves you off, smirking, “Jeonghan was down bad.”

Confused, Leah holds up a hand to silence the bickering. She shakes her head, “Wait, wait, wait – please start from the beginning. I didn’t grow up with you guys, so I’m so lost.”

Like those corny rom-coms, you and Jeonghan turn to look at each other at the same time, exchanging a knowing, tired look. There’s a bashful tinge to your expression; interestingly, the corner of Jeonghan’s lips quirks up in a crooked, smug smile.

Sure, you may have resisted (NOT hate) him at first, and Wonwoo can make fun of him all he wants, but it’s Yoon Jeonghan who won in the end.

After all, you're sitting next to him at the dinner of your shared home as his wife and Nina's mom after all.

. . . .

The day was near perfect for Wonwoo.

His morning coding lecture was canceled, so he got to sleep in. Though there was a pop quiz in his Operating Systems class, he passed with flying colors for once. Wonwoo only had two classes today, finishing in the early afternoon, leaving the rest of the day to his leisure. He decided to celebrate by treating himself to some fancy coffee from the new bougie cafe that opened on the edge of campus before meeting up with a friend for a quick study session. Now, Wonwoo wasn't some latte snob, but there was something pleasant and relaxing about taking a quiet stroll around campus with his Airpods plugged in and an overpriced hot brew with several scoops of sugar and multiple pumps of mocha syrup in his hand. The weather on this autumn day was also just right – not too cold that he needed a windbreaker, but not too warm that his green and orange plaid flannel and yellow beanie combo didn’t make him sweat buckets.

All was wonderful: It was just him and his overpriced bougie sweet sludge of caffeine. Indeed this campus was huge and he was surrounded by so many students rushing to class or laughing with their friends on the grass instead of studying; however, he felt anonymous and loved it. No one minded him, no one dared to bother him–

“Hey!” a familiar crack of a shrill interrupts IU’s sweet voice streaming through his ear piece. It’s accompanied by a bony and heavy hand clamping onto his shoulder, nearly yanking Wonwoo back and tumbling onto his ass if he didn’t catch his footing.

Annoyed, Wonwoo pulled out his earbud and turned to face his menace of a friend: Yoon Jeonghan. He was panting, chocolate brown hair stuck to his forehead by sweat and sticking out in funny directions in the gentle breeze, as if he had been chasing Wonwoo for several minutes.

“Why are you out of breath?” Wonwoo deadpanned.

“I’ve been,” Jeonghan sucked in breath, “Running,” he heaved again, “After you! Calling your name! How loud is your music? God – you’ve been spending too much time with Hansol.” Jeonghan adjusted the straps of his backpack, making a point to roll his shoulder back dramatically.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo muttered, fingers tapping his screen to pause his music. “Um, what do you need? Can I help you?” He cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jeonghan as he took a sip of his coffee, presuming it cooled down by now.

“Go on a date with me,” Jeonghan said.

Wonwoo choked, the mocha liquid spilling from between his lips, accidentally spraying the hem of Jeonghan’s gray t-shirt.

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan screamed, jumping back.

The said man was quick to dab his lips with the back of his hand, coughing in the process.

“What the fuck, dude!” Jeonghan groaned, brushing at his shirt. “Good thing I didn’t wear white today.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Wonwoo exclaimed. A few passing students throw confused glances in their directions. Wonwoo lowered his voice and quickly added, “Look – I know we’re good friends and I like you – as a friend, and I respect you, but I don’t swing that way.”

Probably thirty seconds passed by as Wonwoo waited impatiently for his friend to explain his request further. Jeonghan’s expression only grows unreadable, his brows softening as he let’s go of his shirt, lips drooping into a frown. Taking Wonwoo by surprise, Jeonghan roughly grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist and pulled him close. He tried to pull back, but for a twink, Jeonghan’s grip was strong.

“I’ve loved you for so long! I can’t believe you won’t–”

Thwack!

“Hey!” Wonwoo’s hands come flying to the back of his head at the pain shooting up neck.

“No, you dumbass!” Jeonghan finally sounding like himself again, “I’m asking you to come on a blind date with me – to keep me safe and keep me company, of course. Save me when I give you the look.”

“The look?” Wonwoo asked, still rubbing the base of his head.

“You know,” Jeonghan widened his eyes and clenched his jaw, extending his neck like a giraffe. “That look.”

“Right,” Wonwoo replied slowly – as if he knew what that meant. He waved his friend off. “Sorry – I can’t though. I also don’t want to third wheel.”

“Why not!” Jeonghan groaned.

“I’m busy.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Bring your friend!” Jeonghan grabbed Wonwoo’s arm desperately, “Or anyone really. Please! I just don’t want to go on this date alone.”

“You hit me – why would I?” Wonwoo teased back. “Also, why’d you agree to the blind date if you don’t want to go?”

“I owe it to Seungcheol,” Jeonghan groaned. “I’m going in his stead – something having a girl.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo nodded, the pieces coming together. The two friends were close and had a history of exchanging blind dates and sending one versus the other – a weird pact they developed in their freshman year of university. He suddenly scrunched his brows together, a new question forming on the tip of his tongue. “Wait – Seungcheol has a girl?”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem to care, however. “So?”

“So?” Wonwoo repeated back, confused

“I’ll pay for food,” Jeonghan offered.

As if on cue, Wonwoo’s stomach growled. The two of them peer down at his abdomen, then back at each other. He was a growing, but broke college student – his fridge didn’t contain much yesterday, and even less today.

Rubbing his belly, he replied quietly, “I guess I can think of someone.”

“Great!” Jeonghan brightened immediately. “7PM, tomorrow – don’t be late!”

. . . .

[Wonwoo]: Want free food?

. . . .

[Y/N]: This is NOT what I envisioned when you said ‘free food’ >:(

Pushing his black-rimmed spectacles up his nose bridge, Wonwoo looked up at his phone, offering you a sheepish, but apologetic smile, from across the table. He gave you a small shrug, scrunching his lips and bowing his head slightly to silently say ‘sorry.’ The sincerity of his apology doesn’t seem to go through though, as you only sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Violently, you stabbed your wooden chopstick into the pork belly sizzling in front of you. Not minding to blow at it, quickly, you stuck in your mouth, instantly regretting your decision, of course as the heat burnt a piece of your tongue. You jolted a little, eyes beginning to water.

And then, he does it – again.

Sleeves of his brown sweater rolled up to his elbow, he reached over the steaming grill and placed a freshly refilled, full glass of ice water in front of you.

Hand hovering over your lip, your eyes flicker to Jeonghan. Lips pressed into a thin, but genuinely warm, crooked smile, his deep brown eyes, once round curves into half moons under the overgrown bangs of his soft cool brown hair (which was growing blotchy and brassy, if you might add). Though you were curious why he looked at you with such disgusting saccharine dripping from his eyes that may or may not have made you feel some type of way, you don’t let your gaze linger for long to figure out why. You were quick to turn your shoulder towards him, covering your steaming mouth and concentrating on a crack in the old oak windowsill.

It had been like this since five minutes into the (now that you know) double blind date. You’re not sure how the seating arrangement ended up this way when you and Wonwoo were just here in support, but Jeonghan sat next to you, Dami across from you, and Wonwoo diagonally position. His date, Dami, sat across from him, but Jeonghan seemed to pay minimal mind to her, answering her questions politely, but vaguely.

Perhaps you were just thinking too much about it, but Jeonghan was paying more attention to you. He laughed a little too loud at your blunt remarks, you caught him staring in your direction one too many times, and was a little too attentive at what was in your bowl. You made a point to ask Wonwoo about it after.

The gestures seemed sweet until you took a step back and got a larger view of the situation: Two facts were certain.

One – You weren’t close with Jeonghan despite sharing Wonwoo and a few others as a mutual friend. Yet his reputation was notorious as it was confusing. Neither quite the fuck boy nor the campus hearthrob (that title belonged to his friend, Seungcheol), Yoon Jeonghan was a silent menace to collegiate society. He was gorgeous – a deep set of dark brown eyes framed by long velvet lashes, his features were gentle, yet somehow dynamic and sharp. His warm smile ignited hearts across campus, but no one dared confess to him: His intentions (or the lack thereof) were known far and wide: Yoon Jeonghan did not date. He was cordial, perhaps sometimes a mischievous flirt if bored, but his true kindness did not go out easily. It was not known why he didn’t date, a man that beautiful could snatch someone up with a bat of his lashes and flick of his finger. Some of your friends had said he had a long distance girlfriend on the other side of the country, others have proposed he was afraid of commitment and a closet fuck boy – kept his flings under wraps. He was close with the soccer team after all.

With all of this “knowledge” about him in mind, that led you to the second point: Jeonghan was Dami’s blind date. There’s a piece of you that is curious as to why Jeonghan agreed to a blind date with Dami – not in a toxic or jealous way of course. Her jet black hair trimmed into a short, messy but stylish shag bob, her features resembling that of a wide-eyed kitten, Dami was indeed cute. You didn’t know much about her, however; no money to her name, she wasn’t particularly popular or desired in that way on campus, did not participate in sports or clubs, and you’re not even sure how she was linked to Jeonghan in the first place.

Perhaps this was Dami’s big love story: the campus enigma takes interest in an ordinary girl and whisks her away to live an adventurous life after graduation.

The catch though?

Dami didn’t seem interested in Jeonghan at all.

In fact, hearts were literally shooting out of her eyes at Wonwoo.

“So, uh,” Dami cleared her throat, her eyes flickered up to Wonwoo then you before returning back to the boy on her side. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, “Are the two of you . . .?”

Wonwoo choked on his lettuce, followed by your awkward cough. Much to both of your surprises, Jeonghan also nearly spat out his water at Wonwoo. A moment of silence at the table lingered, the three of you glancing at each other, while Dami sat back in her seat trying to make sense of the situation; though frankly, you and Wonwoo were equally confused as to why Jeonghan reacted so volatilely too.

“We’re just friends,” Wonwoo finally piped up. He cleared his throat, dabbing the invisible stain in the corner of his lip with the napkin.

You nodded vigorously in confirmation.

“Oh? Okay,” Dami said softly, a little breathless. There’s a small twitch of the corner of her lip, threatening to stretch into a grin, but she caught herself, offering the table a tight smile instead.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jeonghan visibly relax, quietly returning to the meat grilling in front of him.

The rest of the dinner proceeded without any choking mishaps – it was fairly nice, honestly. You decided that you actually really liked Dami. Despite her cat-like appearance and coy nature, she was lively and innocent. Her crush on Wonwoo was evident and you found it endearing, though your friend might not.

In regards to Jeonghan, his nonchalant, yet caring nature carried on throughout the night; it even got Wonwoo raising his brows curiously. You do your best to not pay mind to him, but every now and then, you find yourself heating up at the sound of his deep laughter.

After bidding the pair goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with Dami, you and Wonwoo set off for your shared apartment complex. You lived in the same building, him on the second floor, you on the fourth floor.

Unable to contain your curiosity much longer, you check behind you to make sure Jeonghan is a good distance away before nudging Wonwoo’s elbow. He looked at you, unamused, silently asking you what you wanted.

You began, “Hey, this is a weird question and I know you were just there for moral support and free food, but did you get the feeling that Jeonghan–”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo confirmed, already knowing the answer to your unfinished question. You stutter in your steps, putting you a few feet behind him. Wonwoo continued forward, showing no signs of slowing down for your confused state. He hollered back, “He’s definitely into you.”

It made you feel some type of way, but you can’t decide if it’s a good type of way or you didn’t like it all together. Your heart beats funny for the first time in years – it was reminiscent of when you developed a crush in middle school, but different due to the uncertainty of this feeling. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s comment made you come to a halt altogether, quietly contemplating in the middle of the sidewalk while strangers walked around you.

As if on cue, just as Wonwoo noticed your absence lingering behind him, he turned to find Jeonghan actually running willingly, fast approaching behind you. He touched your elbow, interrupting your daze and you turned around slowly to greet him. Wonwoo can’t make out your expression, but he could only imagine, you looked lost like a guppy in the sewers. On the other hand, Jeonghan’s expression was very visible and clear: his friend was beaming; subtly in his smiles and soft in his eyes, but beaming nonetheless.

One would think Jeonghan had something important to tell you given the way he sprinted nearly a block to catch up to you, heaving between words, but his message was rather simple.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Yet, for some reason, it made all the impact.

. . . .

“Please!” Jeonghan hissed, stabbing Wonwoo’s side with the tip of his pencil. Wonwoo winced away, shooting daggers in his friend’s direction. He was trying to use this spare few hours between classes to study for his finals in the serenity and quiet of the library. His friends knew around this time of the semester, Wonwoo didn’t like to be disturbed, but it just so happened that Jeonghan had an urgent request, prompting him to track down the computer engineering major to his sacred, hidden spot of the law school library. “Can you give me her number? It’s not that hard!”

Though irritating, Wonwoo did find this version of Yoon Jeonghan was very entertaining as much as it was enthralling as Jeonghan never took this much interest in anyone or anything. He wanted to let his intrusive thoughts win and indulge in it.

The two of you were like night and day. Whereas, you spoke your feelings, wants, and needs openly, Jeonghan never dared to do so. His requests were cryptic, embedded questions pertaining to the objective, rather than what his heart desired truly. You had your mind set on a goal; Jeonghan was one to flow and ebb with the waters of life.

However, though neither of you knew it yet, there was a beguiling bone in the both of you. It depended on how it played out whether it’d unite the both of you or send you apart. At this point, it was unironically up to Wonwoo if he wanted to be the third player in this game. t

Wonwoo scoffed, shaking his head.

“What?” Jeonghan frowned.

“Do you want it that bad?” Wonwoo asked. He pressed his friend further. “And why?”

Jeonghan closed his mouth as quick as he opened it, retracting the rationale at the tip of his tongue. A good gambler never shows his cards first. His eyes flickered, contemplating his next few words more carefully before adjusting his posture and continuing.

“Just because,” Jeonghan replied nonchalantly.

Wonwoo chuckled, not surprised.

“If you’re just going to fuck around with her heart, I’d rather not,” Wonwoo replied, shrugging.

And it was true – you were the same age, but to some extent, you felt like a long-lost younger sister to Wonwoo.

“Hey,” Jeonghan punched him lightly. There was a slight warning tone as he was frowning even more, well aware of what Wonwoo was referring to. Jeonghan has never bothered to clarify the rumors of his dating life, thinking it too much work, but that didn’t mean he liked them either. “You know that’s not true and I would never.”

“Then admit it,” Wonwoo shot back.

“Admit what?!” Jeonghan flailed his hands wildly, earning a few dirty looks from the studious students a few tables away.

“You want Y/N’s number because you’re interested.”

“Th-that’s not it,” Jeonghan muttered weakly. “I mean, yes? But also no? I just . . . want to know her better – you know, as a friend . . . first.”

Crossing his arm over his chest, Wonwoo nodded, feigning agreement. “Right, right.”

“Wonwoo,” Jeonghan protested.

When he didn’t respond, Jeonghan groaned loudly, flopping back in his spinning chair dramatically.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find someone else to give it to me,” Jeonghan threatened.

“And risk other people questioning why you want to contact Y/N?” Wonwoo teased. He shot Jeonghan a shit-eating grin, “You know what they’re all going to think, right?”

“Jeon Wonwoo, when did you get so fucking irritating?”

Wonwoo leaned forward, waving his finger for Jeonghan to get closer. The latter hesitated for a second before giving in.

“If there’s one thing you should know about Y/N,” Wonwoo started in a hushed voice, “You’re not the first one to ask for her number.”

“So?” Jeonghan asked incredulously, “Why should that matter?”

“Just saying,” Wonwoo leaned back, resting his hands on the nape of his neck, “Don’t be surprised if she turns you down – she doesn’t like to mess around. She’s not really . . . actively looking to date right now either, honestly. Something about careers and being her ‘me’ era.” At the time, Jeonghan wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure content with the way Wonwoo ripped a corner of his notebook and scribbled down your digits. “You should be grateful we’re friends – she asked me not to hand out her number the first time I gave it to Johnny Suh.”

He handed the scrap over to Jeonghan, who beamed as if it was the golden ticket from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

May Yoon Jeonghan be the last to ask for your number.

Wonwoo called after Jeonghan, “In return, all I ask is that you don’t tell Y/N you got the number from me.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he stood up from his desk.

Wonwoo rubbed his neck sheepishly, tips of his ear turning red. “I also don’t want her passing out my number – it’s a pact we made, kinda.”

It all clicked for Jeonghan then, if not more. “Don’t worry,” Jeonghan waved, “I’ll send Dami a text.”

“Hey!”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: Hey – this is Yoon Jeonghan :)

[Jeonghan]: I got it from Wonwoo hehehe.

[Y/N Y/L/N]: ???

[Jeonghan]: Hello?

[Y/N Y/L/N]: [your message not delivered]

. . . .

You don’t hear from Jeonghan after the double blind date.

Not that you were anticipating it, but still– Wonwoo said he was into you and then he chased you down a block to tell you it was nice to meet you!

Ugh – the bar was so damn low.

On the other hand, you do hear from Dami, the two of you quickly becoming better friends. She reached out to you on Instagram, playful chatter turning into occasional hangouts and then weekly coffee runs or walking to the general vicinity of your classes together in between lectures. You were suspicious at first, wondering if she was using you to get closer to Wonwoo, but her intentions seemed sincere. Indeed, she did ask about Wonwoo every now and then, eventually also asking if he was seeing anyone, you didn’t find it particularly annoying. She still wanted to be your friend and understood boundaries, choosing to admire from afar and up close when the opportunity presents.

It also turned out that Wonwoo wasn’t the only one who sensed there was something up about Jeonghan at the blind date as Dami brought it up months later when you passed the barbeque restaurant where you all met that fateful day on a stroll. At this point, you’d like to think Jeonghan became a distant memory – just a fleeting interaction, but there are times that you do catch yourself wondering about him. You wonder what he’s up to, wonder if he’s gone on more blind dates, what would have happened if you were a little more forward and you reached out.

“Oh,” Dami waved you off when you asked about how she got Jeonghan to agree to a blind date with her. “I was just as surprised as the rest of you – that blind date was actually supposed to be with Choi Seungcheol, but I’m not sure what happened. He’s cute, but Jeonghan’s not really my type.”

“I see,” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief for some weird reason. You snuggle your hands deeper into the pockets of your puffer jacket.

A beat passed before Dami asked slowly, “Is Jeonghan your type though?”

You peer down at the shorter girl, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“What?” she asked innocently. “It was totally obvious – he was head over heels for you.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “We literally just met that night.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly. “Ey, haven’t you heard of love at first sight?”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” you corrected her. “I hardly know him and vice versa; how is he supposed to like me already?”

“It’s just . . . a vibe, I guess,” Dami tried to reason, “He liked your vibe.”

“Very scientific,” you replied sarcastically.

“I’m just saying,” Dami shrugged, “I may be a hopeless romantic, but I’ve never seen Jeonghan act out like that before.”

“Did you know him prior?” you asked curiously.

Dami hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. “I knew of him and I’ve seen him here and there, but I never talked to him like that. Our circles never really overlapped, other than Seungcheol. Knowledge by observation – Jeonghan’s not really . . . he’s . . . gosh, kind of hard to explain.”

“How so?” your interest was piqued.

“I don’t know . . . the way he talks . . . it feels like he’s flirting with everyone, but it’s never serious and he’s actually not? You’d think with how playful he is, he’d be an asshole,” Dami fumbled with her words.

You felt your heart sink a little. “So what I’m hearing is . . . this was probably lust at best.”

“No! With you, it was different though! Agh – fuck, wish I was better with words,” Dami protested.

“Doesn’t sound different.”

“Is he your type though?” Dami pressed again, nonetheless.

You took a moment to contemplate, head skimming through your celebrity crushes, things you liked in old exes, things you didn’t like as you learned, growing up. Again, you hardly knew Jeonghan, but you’re slowly starting to piece together the person he seemed to be. He was the kind of man your mother warned you about: good-looking, sweet with their words and actions, but unpredictable – in a bad kind of way.

Eventually, you shook your head, letting out a heavy breath. “Not really – he’s . . . too pretty,” you replied, “Wouldn’t bat an eye on him if I saw him on the metro.” Your voice trailed off as you were not in a mood to explain yourself further. Despite the certainty in your voice, the answer didn’t seem to settle well into your body, making you feel squeamish, a heavy sensation landing in your chest.

So what if Jeonghan wasn’t your type?

Dami hummed in understanding, “I can see that.” She kicked the ball of snow in front of her. “Well then, it’s a good thing you won’t see him again, right?”

“Right.”

“What is your type then?” Dami asked. She quickly added, “Just asking for funsies.”

You smiled, appreciative that she’d indulge in your delusions every now and then.

Just as you parted your lips to start, a deep voice bellowed your name from afar in front of the both of you. Dami and you lift your heads from the icy pavement, to find a broad young man standing a few feet away. His jacket was unzipped, sweater hanging loosely from his shoulders, just enough so that you can see his tattoo peeking out from underneath the collar. He grinned wide, eyes turning into crescents under his thick brows, cheeks and the tip of nose pink.

“B-Baekho,” you stammered. Your lips wobble nervously as if they couldn’t decide whether to smile or hide the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him. “Hey.”

Despite your long-time crush standing before you, you had to make a conscious effort to quell the lingering thoughts of Jeonghan in the back of your mind.

. . . .

You were wrong – you would see Yoon Jeonghan again.

You and Jeonghan shared more mutual friends than you had thought.

It’s Soonyoung’s birthday party. You’re not sure why, Soonyoung was full of surprises, but he invited a handful of his friends out to the outdoor ice skating rink about half an hour from campus. The plan was to hang out there for the afternoon before returning to his apartment for an evening of festivities.

Jeonghan had changed his appearance since you last saw him. His once dark brown hair was now bleach blonde – he’d grown it out, the dark roots peaking through, but the bright ends hung shaggily, skimming over his long velvet lashes. At the chalet while lacing up his skates, he still donned those skittish grins and playful smirks whenever he was teasing his other friends, elbowing them and throwing his head back in a deep laughter, in contrast to his soft voice most days.

You do your best to avoid him, sticking close with Dami (Soonyoung let you bring a plus one) on the rink or choosing to sit close to Wonwoo who opted to stay inside and watch from the chalet. Dami does a pretty good job keeping you busy, anyhow – the girl could hardly skate, clinging onto the walls and calling for you every time you strayed too far. It was moments like this you were thankful your mother put you in ice skating for a brief moment in your youth before you vehemently quit in fourth grade, terrified by the stories of professional figure skaters needing hip surgery and waking up early every Saturday for lessons. It also seemed like Jeonghan was facing the same challenge with the birthday boy. Out of the corner of your eyes every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Soonyoung bent over at a 90 degree angle, hands outstretched clinging onto Jeonghan’s hands like his life depended on it.

“Y/N!” Dami called for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “Y/N! Hey!”

You huffed, growing tired of slowing down for your friend. You loved her! Don’t get it wrong, it’s just you wanted at least one round, where you could whiz around the rink and awaken those skater muscles you once built.

You spun around to face her, skating backwards. “Dami, I think we should get you one of those skating walkers–”

“No, you idiot!” she cried, pointing behind you aggressively, “Watch out!”

Her warning proved too late, however. By the time you faced forward again, you came crashing into a familiar blob of white puffer and a high-pitched, but husky shriek. A set of arms wrapped around your body and you curled yourself inwards, allowing yourself to take refuge into whoever had been your demise and your savior. Mittens clinging onto the slippery material of their coat, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting your fumbling feet still so no one tripped and you both fell.

The both of you eventually hit the side of the rink, eliciting a quiet ‘umph’ from the mystery person. The trauma of the impact seemed to linger a little longer; you were afraid to open your eyes to see yourself sailing towards a whole crowd of people despite feeling yourself still.

“Um,” the person shifted uncomfortably. They tapped your shoulder before trying to peel you off of them, “Y-you can let go.”

You peel your lids open, one by one, cautiously to make sure you were no longer moving. Eventually, you relax, pulling back a little – still holding on nonetheless.

The person cleared their throat, prompting you to look up.

Fuck.

Jeonghan gave you a tight lipped smile, “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” you replied, awkwardly.

“You can let go now,” he looked around, leaning back into the board, “People are staring.”

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself back, letting your skates drift you away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan pretended to be busy and brushed off the invisible wrinkles in his coat.

A beat passed as he straightened out, catching your gaze and letting it linger. You feel your heartbeat hastened, his stare making you nervous and stirring up other feelings in your stomach, but you don’t dare look away – it was weirdly addicting.

“Um well,” Jeonghan finally said, he nodded once, “It was nice seeing you around.”

You panicked, launching yourself towards him and catching his elbow. “Wait!”

Jeonghan threw you a confused look over his shoulder, quietly waiting for you to continue.

“W-wait,” you whispered again under your breath. You inhaled harshly, eyes flickering up to meet him before dropping them to his black and white, scuffed rental skates. “D-do you maybe . . . wanna get hot cocoa?” You pointed back at the chalet and Jeonghan followed your mittens.

He paused, expression unreadable. His brows knitted together, lips pressing into a thin line. He looks all over the place except for you, finally coming to a conclusion and answering, “Sure.”

“Cool,” you nodded.

He was the first to leave, skating towards the entrance of the rink.

You followed quietly.

Dami and Soonyoung watched from afar, both kneeling on the ice, one hand on the side board as their saviors left them to fend on their own.

. . . .

The chalet was bustling with life: mothers with their young children in tow, friends bundled in layers as they waddled unsteadily in their skates towards the entrance, and others strewn across the wooden tables and benches. The young teens behind the cafe counter were certainly sweating away running between the cash register and the food warmers and coffee machines behind them.

Jeonghan had graciously paid for your hot chocolates – not without a fight of course. You didn’t really want your drink to come with drinks attached. The two of you found a small table tucked away near the parking lot. It was a little quieter in this area, a little colder as well with the people coming and going. Nerves wracked your stomach as you tried to be as calm as possible, hopeful that he wouldn’t notice the regret lacing your entire body right now. You wonder if you got a concussion during that collision to even have the gall to invite him for a drink after all these months.

What would you even talk about? It’s not like your conversations during the double date were that deep. Let alone, who were you that he’d remember details about you?

The words exchanged between you and Jeonghan were far and few since the collision on ice – they were more so out of necessity. What you wanted to drink specifically, where you wanted to sit, be careful not to run into the kid whizzing across the chalet main floor.

“You blocked my number,” Jeonghan blurted, interrupting your musing. You were only two sips into your hot chocolate, lips lifting off the rim of your white paper cup. He noted how the brown liquid faintly stained the rim where they once rested.

Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in much longer – the question was ruminating in the back of his mind for the past few months like an annoying fly they couldn’t swat in the house in the summer. He did his damn best to “let it go” like everyone said because “maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” However, it must mean something to have quite literally run into you now and you asked him to drink hot chocolate with you in the chalet, right? He wanted and needed to know your intentions.

Jeonghan watched you intently from the opposite side of the bench, your bustling surroundings melting away. You seemed to be in your own world, your silence ensuing. He noted how your left eyebrow twitched momentarily as if you were confused. It was quick to turn sly, your brow softening again, your lips curving into an amused smirk. It sent chills down Jeonghan’s spine to see your demeanor flip so quickly when you were coy moments earlier. Gears were turning – almost like you were plotting something.

“And?” you asked, bringing up your paper cup of hot chocolate to your lips, the rim covering half of your face.

Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head – the audacity!

“Yet, you’re asking to have a drink together?” Jeonghan continued.

“How’d you get my number in the first place?” you asked instead. You raised a curious eyebrow.

Jeonghan narrowed his gaze, setting his paper cup down roughly with a loud ‘clack’. The warm liquid sloshed around, threatening to spill over. “It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning forward towards him as if to challenge him; pressing Jeonghan to answer your question rather than vice versa. However, what you didn’t know was that Jeonghan was a different breed of man. He did not fall easily under pressure in the presence of a woman he was attracted to – he could sit here in awkward silence as long as you wanted.

You’re not sure how long this showdown actually lasted, losing track of time. Seconds to minutes past, your drinks turned lukewarm and condensation formed on the inside of the unfilled regions of the cup. Admittedly, Jeonghan did grow more frustrated with you; yet he remained hopeful you’d crack. No one could withstand the “Yoon stare,” as Seokmin had dubbed it a few months prior at a drinking party. Nonetheless, perhaps he was a masochist, because for some reason, he was enjoying the company of someone who could keep up with him.

“Yah!” a shrill comes from across the room.

It was only a matter of seconds before Soonyoung, tip of his nose pink, came stomping over, removed his waterproof glove, and smacked the back of Jeonghan’s shoulder. Dami wasn’t far behind, though less upset. She threw you a questioning look, one that told you that you were going to have to explain yourself afterwards.

“And you!” Soonyoung pointed an accusing finger at you. He then pointed it back and forth between you and Jeonghan. “You both suck leaving us stranded and helpless on the ice! You know, a couple of twelve-year-olds had to help us off! Took us almost twenty minutes!”

You shot Soonyoung an apologetic look, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ before he quipped again, asking, “Also, like . . .” His eyes darted at the cups of hot chocolate and the way you were arranged at the table. Pieces began to click together. “What is this?” he tried to sound angry, “A date or something? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other!”

“Yeah,” Dami piped up, “A date or something?”

You coughed at this, turning your head away from them.

Jeonghan made a note of this, raising a curious brow, before turning to Soonyoung. He shrugged and answered, “Or something.”

“Ugh,” Soonyoung groaned, “So you guys are like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked.

Soonyoung opened his mouth to answer, but Dami was quick to cut him off, an agenda of her own brewing. “Soonyoung, wanna grab a bite? And maybe some hot chocolate? My treat? We can go sit by Chan and Wonwoo over there.”

“But–”

“Great!”

Dami winked at Jeonghan, quickly pushing the birthday boy away.

Jeonghan was really curious now. He turned back to you, who was still pretending to be fascinated by the old linoleum floors and the tips of your worn winter boots.

“Yah,” Jeonghan called.

You looked up, lips pursed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you replied.

“Are you usually this irritating?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Jeonghan let out a huff, blowing his blonde bangs.

You were reaching for your cup and started to rise from your seat.

“Hey, where are you–”

“You look better with brown hair by the way,” you deadpanned. You pointed at your own head, “It looked . . . healthier that way.”

Those were your last words before you set off towards Wonwoo’s and Chan’s table to join the others.

If you were just anyone, Jeonghan might have shot some sassy comment back at your insult. However, like never before, Jeonghan suddenly became anxious – as if you were slipping away like a balloon streamer threatening to drift away from a child’s hand in a windstorm. He felt his heart beginning to race and tongue took control of him. He spun in his seat and blurted after you instead, “Will I see you again?”

You paused in your stride before throwing a confused and mildly annoyed look over your shoulder. Your expression was quick to shift though. A shit-eating grin slowly stretching across your face, you explained casually, “Life . . . is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.” You raise your cup towards him in a final salute.

“Touche,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. .

Jeonghan watched you settle next to Wonwoo, bumping shoulders with your friend who only shot you an annoyed look when he raised his head from his book. Pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, he said something, eliciting a frown and sending you into a pout. It must’ve been a tease because Wonwoo started to chuckle.

Suddenly, another figure entered the scene – a well-built young man, bundled in a navy blue parka that framed his figure in a masculine manner. He had a broad set of shoulders and a thin waist – oh, he definitely worked out. To make matters worse, he was handsome: a sharp jaw and slim nose, his eyes seemingly cold due to their shape, but his gaze, at least towards you, was soft and warm. A pair of matching navy blue earmuffs donned either side of his face; his hair was immaculately well-styled in a side slick despite the wind outside. Jeonghan wondered how much gel he must’ve used to keep it that way. The man greeted you with a few word, possibly a question to sit next to you as far as Jeonghan could tell, because you nodded and scooted over to make room for him. The young man is grinning, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, eyes curving into crescents and he settled in, shoulders bumping against yours. Wonwoo was smooshed up the side of the wall, seemingly displeased though continued to read uninterrupted. Jeonghan found it all the more interesting just how friendly and smiley you were with him relative to himself just moments earlier.

Jeonghan would never admit it out loud, but it kind of . . . infuriated him? An unsettling feeling overcame his chest, Jeonghan unknowingly shifting in his seat, fingers crushing the paper cup of hot chocolate a little tighter.

“You’re jealous,” Seungcheol said, approaching his best friend behind.

Jeonghan looked up then back to you. “Am not.”

“I saw you guys sitting together earlier,” Seungcheol remarked.

“Yeah – she offered.”

“Oh?”

“But then totally blew me off.”

“Yet, all chummy with Mr. Broad and Handsome, over there,” Seungcheol spoke his mind. He chuckled like the asshole he could be.

“Shut up, will you?” Jeonghan snapped.

“Jealous?” Seungcheol patted his back.

“Am not!” Jeonghan screeched a little too defensively.

Seungcheol shook his head, doing his best to suppress his growing grin.

“Then answer me this,” Seungcheol started, “For some reason, despite not knowing much about her, despite her ‘blowing you off,’ there’s a piece of you that still wants to get to know her better. Am I right?”

Jeonghan paused for a moment, considering his friend’s words. Never had Seungcheol made him feel so conflicted. It wouldn’t make sense for him to want to get to know you better after that rude encounter, but the tension from earlier was . . . thrilling? Also, in your defense, you weren’t exactly intentionally rude – he had accused you first of flaking on him, still unclear if you actually did or didn’t. It was kind of addicting and a piece of him was curious as to how far he could push you and vice versa.

An enigma he couldn’t resolve.

“I-I guess?”

Seungcheol clapped suddenly, each one staccato and slow. “And so, Yoon Jeonghan meets his match.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked.

Seungcheol shrugged, “You’ll see – only time can tell.”

That’s what she said.

. . . .

“How did Jeonghan get my phone number?”

“He did?”

“Apparently, he did – but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

Wonwoo shrugged.

“You said he was into me.”

“What about you? Are you into him?”

Silence.

. . . .

It’s the early spring, a month before graduation, when you see each other again – much to Jeonghan’s dismay.

Many things have changed, one of them being that Dami and Soonyoung started dating a couple of weeks after their traumatic encounter on the ice. They’re sickeningly cute, but the important thing was that they made so much sense. Though they were still early on in their relationship, it could very well just be the ‘honeymoon phase,’ but fights were far and few between. They were two wholesome souls with hardworking drives, lifting each other up, yet also somehow knowing what the other needs. All it took was a simple glance from across the room, Jeonghan would imagine some sort of telepathy going on between them before Soonyoung waddled over Dami and whispered a few words to her, her glum expression brightening instantaneously and vice versa.

Even Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the sight of them. A part of him was envious. Not in a toxic sense, but also longing when he’d meet his soulmate like that – not that he was some hopeless romantic and believed in soulmates or anything (he’d like to think had some agency in choosing his partner, rather than leaving it up to the good old hands of fate), but there was a nice feeling to the thought of being with someone who just got you like that.

Many things had also not changed, the main one being his perennial quest to get close to you.

Or perhaps rather, the lack thereof.

Jeonghan spent the last several months debating if he should contact you again. You blocked his number; would it be right of him to slide into your Instagram DM’s? You didn’t follow one another, however, which made things all the more complex.

Yet, your last few words lingered in the back of his mind: Life is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.

What did that even mean? Were you hinting at him to pursue you? Was that your way of avoiding him?

Ironically, Jeonghan relented and decided to leave this up to fate. Seungcheol urged him to reach out to you, claiming the worst thing you could say to him was ‘no’, but Jeonghan wasn’t sure he could handle that currently – not when you left off on such a weird note.

Maybe whatever gods out there were on his side, however, because Jeonghan ran into again at a karaoke bar. The two of you had more mutual friends than you thought – or rather really, you ended up being Wonwoo’s plus one to all these things, showing up glued to his hip.

Neon color lights dance across the dark room with tacky, faux leather orange benches, as Minghao and Seokmin sing a trot rendition of Beyonce’s ‘All the Single Ladies,’ the latter somehow acquiring a sogo drum and beating an out of tune rhythm across the room. You were tucked away in a corner wedged in between Wonwoo and that handsome man from the chalet again. Despite the lively energy, you were only quietly swaying, seemingly lost in another world. The handsome man (Jeonghan had come to learn that his name was ‘Baekho’) whispered something in your ear every now and then, maybe checking up on you, but you’d only respond with a tight smile, quick to divert your eyes from him to your hands. Jeonghan couldn’t decide if it was out of coyness or you weren’t truly up to being here tonight.

Jeonghan didn’t try to sit next to you when he arrived. For one reason being he’d arrived late so you were already settled and didn’t pay mind to him. The other reason being he didn’t want to raise suspicions trying to wedge himself between you and Baekho.

Just what was exactly your relationship with Baekho? With how he seemed to whisper so tenderly to your ear, Jeonghan was almost inclined to think you were dating, but your eyes seemed so . . . hollow? It wasn’t quite the same as the way Dami’s orbs lit up when she saw Soonyoung.

“Quit staring,” Seungcheol elbowed Jeonghan, interrupting his musing. Jeonghan winced, shooting Seungcheol a dirty look.

“I wasn’t,” Jeonghan remarked.

Seungcheol waved off his friend. “You should go talk to her – or at least say ‘hi.’”

“And why would I do that?” Jeonghan retorted stupidly, instantly regretting the words that just spewed from his mouth.

His best friend gave him an incredulous look. “This is the first time you see her in months and that’s what you’re telling me? Please! You’re about to burn holes into Baekho’s head with those laser eyes of yours – no one is not not noticing the way your eyes keep lingering over to them.”

“Who am I to interfere with whatever they have?” Jeonghan waved his hand at some abstract object in the air as if it represented your relationship with Baekho.

“Yoon Jeonghan – that’s who,” Seungcheol shoved him roughly, nearly sending him sailing out of his seat.

“Hey!” his footing stuttered and if it weren’t for his fast, he would’ve face planted into the table.

“Go!” Seungcheol hissed.

Eyes were already starting to linger on Jeonghan, the young man having no choice but to play it cool like he was getting up to go somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught you looking at him momentarily, heating his spine up and making him feel stupidly giddy. He let out a quiet cough, relaxing his shoulder and slipping his hand into his jean pocket, stepping over people’s feet in your direction.

If he can’t put himself between you and Baekho, he’ll just ask Wonwoo to scoot over – no biggie, right?

Jeonghan was only about two steps away when he opened his mouth to greet you. However, you were quick to ignore him, shifting out of your seat and pointed to the exit of the karaoke room, whispering something quick to Baekho. He stood up, making room for you to leave and you scurried towards the opaque door.

Well, fuck.

“Your luck is terrible,” Wonwoo remarked. He scooted over to make room for Jeonghan. With a heavy sigh, the bleach blonde man flopped into the empty spot. If the others weren’t now belting Justin Bieber at the top of their lungs, you would’ve heard the hard impact between Jeonghan’s body and this godly uncomfortable bench.

“Well, gee – thanks, like I didn’t know,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically.

“I’m . . . impressed, honestly,” Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest.

“About what?”

“You’ve never been hung up on someone for this long – let alone, not make a move,” Wonwoo explained further.

“Well I mean, I kind of left a sour taste in her mouth,” Jeonghan noted.

Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, glancing at his friend from the side. Jeonghan ceased to notice, both due to the way the light from the flat screen was dancing across his glasses and he was simply lost in his own heartsick musing.

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asked carefully.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Jeonghan scoffed. “I confronted her about her blocking my number.”

“She blocked your number?” Wonwoo said slowly – asking more than he was stating.

Ugh – why was he was playing stupid? Jeonghan thought you were good friends!

“Yeah,” Jeonghan kicked at the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

Wonwoo kept a straight face, only nodding. He quietly noted that maybe he just forgot – he was busy these days. However, what Jeonghan doesn’t know is that Wonwoo was finally and slowly putting all the pieces of your prefatory love story together.

Oh, how miscommunication was an amazing plot tool.

“You should go check on her,” Wonwoo nudged Jeonghan after a moment.

“Huh?” Jeonghan knitted his brows together. “Why?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “She’s been gone for a bit – said, she went to get air. Tell her I sent you.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes on his friend. Just what was he playing at?

Wonwoo leaned in close, “Or would you rather me ask Baekho to go check on her?”

That was the impetus Jeonghan needed, snapping out of his suspicious daze and getting up from his seat.

It was now or never.

. . . .

You don’t seem to notice Jeonghan when he tumbled out the front door of the karaoke bar, leaning against the red brick wall, eyes trained up in the sky. Jeonghan looked up briefly to see what you were looking at, only to note the gray heavy clouds blocking the moon and the stars. The streets were starting to become more dynamic as people were filling up the streets. Young couples giggled, hand-in-hand, groups of friends bellowing out in laughter at inside jokes, while elderly shop owners pitched their tent – their grills starting to heat up the grease that were just slathered across them.

Yet, you only continued to sigh and look at the sky, your vibe not quite matching the eccentricity of what was going on inside or outside.

Jeonghan neared you, hands tucked in his jeans still, scuffing the dark pavement as he called out, “Hey.”

You look down and to the side at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a tight smile before looking away.

He teetered on the balls of his feet. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said. This sent Jeonghan back to your conversation at the skating chalet. However, your tone is less lively and playful this time – half-hearted.

“It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question, you know?” Jeonghan joked.

You chortled softly, “It wasn’t actually a question.”

Jeonghan took another step towards you, opting to stand a few feet away from you, side-by-side. “Same difference.”

Neither of speak further, letting silence envelope you both once more and suddenly it just felt like him and you in this little space despite the night coming alive around you. The silence is different this time though, in that rather than tension, there was comfort – a mutual, unspoken understanding that it was just needed.

Jeonghan almost relished it, until his intrusive thoughts remembered–

“Wonwoo sent me to check on you by the way,” he blurted.

You smile small, “That bastard.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Jeonghan. “Well, you checked up on me,” you gestured back to the building behind you. “You can go back – I’m okay.”

Jeonghan cocked his head slightly at you, a crease forming between his brows as he takes you in. There was a bite to all your responses, but it lacked your usual flair. He’s not sure what it was exactly, but something told him maybe, you weren’t as okay as you led onto be.

“What?” you asked when he didn’t reply or move.

Sometimes, maybe it was better not to think too hard about it, Jeonghan decided.

Maybe, he just needed to do what felt right.

“Do you . . .” his voice trailed off as he hesitated for a moment, but he picked up right again. “Do you wanna go for a walk actually?”

You were taken aback, shoulders settling back and your faux smile falling into a small pout instead.

Despite his cool and collected demeanor that he hoped he was displaying, in his head, he was quietly chanting, “Please say yes,” as if it was a mantra that would trance you into going on this walk with him.

Maybe it does work, however, because even though you don’t say ‘yes,’ you take off in a direction without him. Jeonghan froze momentarily, in disbelief and relief, jaw slack and small breath escaping his lips.

You must’ve sensed the lack of his presence behind you because you spin around, your jean pleated skirt twirling prettily in the process.

Cocking your head at him, you simply asked, “Coming?”

Maybe, Jeonghan should leave it up to fate more.

(Or just Wonwoo.)

. . . .

Fate was cruel.

And Jeonghan was over dramatic and impatient – at least, in Seungcheol’s eyes.

The walk that evening was rather uneventful, but it gave Jeonghan hope – so much damn hope. Initially, Jeonghan only tailed you until you asked him why he was doing that and he jogged to walk beside you. Naturally, your footsteps fell in sync, Jeonghan wondering if he was the only one who noticed. Far and few words were exchanged like at the skating center, but neither of you minded. Like prior, the silence was tranquil, bringing a sense of calm and comfort to the both of you. You seemed to relax, a genuine smile springing on your face as you passed various shops, eyes lighting up at the sight of the few bakeries and the few childish remarks of trinkets in the windowsill.

To be frank, and Jeonghan wasn’t always, even with himself, you were fucking adorable – and he wanted to know this feeling more. This sensation that melted his heart every time his gaze flickered over to you, this joy that fills his body and courses through his veins; yet despite all this heart fluttering sensation, there was a sense of simplicity and effortlessness that accompanied it all. It made him feel like he could do this . . . for a long time.

Maybe he was insane and beyond himself – he hardly knew anything about you, but he liked it. He wasn’t sure he felt this way before. He was a non-believer of love at first sight, but a piece of him wanted to defy this reality he knew. He wondered if this is how Soonyoung felt about Dami on the regular.

Jeonghan doesn’t find out why you were feeling down earlier that evening. Jeonghan doesn’t ask to exchange Instagram’s with you. Jeonghan doesn’t ask when he will see you again because he knew he would – he had to.

He reveled about you to Seungcheol. The short twenty minute walk felt like a lifetime; when it came to a halt and you arrived back at the karaoke bar and how he didn’t want to go inside, but he did anyway. He wondered what you did the next day and the day after. Did you go back to those bakeries with anyone? Did you buy that scarf you were eyeing through the clear glass?

But okay, maybe it was a mistake to leave it all up to fate. The thrill of it was quick to fade and entered misery and longing.

Jeonghan didn’t meet you again until graduation.

Countless, prolonged, corny speeches about the future and hard work given, long lines of people waiting for their empty diploma cases passed, a flurry of black caps thrown, tears cried, cheers shouted, and hugs exchanged later, Jeonghan spotted you in the middle of an aisle by yourself. You were waving good-bye to a classmate before you turned to walk down the path of green grass alone. Eyes trained on the ground, one foot in front of another, you unknowingly made your way towards him. There was a smalling, toothless smile on your face slowly fading with each step.

You must’ve sensed his presence because you stopped a few feet away. The smile returned, making Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. His face mirrored your own, the world seeming to fade around the both of you once again.

“Hey stranger,” you quipped. He was holding his graduation cap in one hand. You note how his roots were showing, the bleach blonde growing and now shading over his eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted. Folding his hands behind him, he took a few steps closer towards you. He tipped his head forward, “Congratulations.”

You saluted him and sent a playful wink in his direction. “You likewise.”

Jeonghan chuckled. His eyes wandered up to the sky a bit as his next question formed. How did he ask this without making it too obvious?

“What are your plans after all of this?” Jeonghan asked. He held his hands out, gesturing to the field of new graduates greeting their friends and family joyfully.

“Um,” you chuckled, “Dinner with my family probably?” You scratched your head and looked around for them briefly before turning back to him. Your lips parted to ask ‘you’, but Jeonghan beat you to it.

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled, waving you off, “I meant like . . . future-future – career plans and all.”

“Oh,” you said, your voice much softer now. “That.”

Jeonghan tilted his head curiously.

“I’ll be . . . around,” you pressed your lips together and chuckled softly, “Um . . . I’m honestly not sure – what I had planned, didn’t pan out.”

There was a flash of worry across your face – Jeonghan probably presuming you were thinking he thought you were pathetic and a failure. However, that was not how he felt. If anything, his heart panged for you a little. He didn’t claim to know what you were feeling, heck, he hardly knew much about you still – Jeonghan would like to think he knew a thing or two about disappointment.

“C-can I?” he stammered. He opened his arms for you slightly, quietly asking for a hug.

Your eyes widened. “U-um.” Your feet were already clumsily tripping over one another towards him though.

Jeonghan pulled you in, your lips pressed into the shoulder of his graduation gown. Initially tense in his hold, with each breath, his woody cologne overwhelming your senses, the hug became more bearable . . . comfortable. You relaxed, bringing your hands up around his waist. You felt him patting your back gently as if to quietly reassure you.

“The world doesn’t just end because one plan went awry,” he offered.

You snorted and joked, “Just what I needed – another speech on resilience.”

Jeonghan pulled away, grinning at you really hard. He could’ve sworn he probably looked like an idiot, but he didn’t really care – this could be the last time he saw you ever.

“The world has a funny way of working out,” Jeonghan pressed on. “Fate . . . it isn’t too bad – most of the time.”

“Darling!” you heard your mother call from behind you. Instantly, your cheeks grew hot, already envisioning 101 scenarios as to how this conversation would go with Jeonghan meeting your family like this. Your mother in particular, was a fickle woman who had a lot of predictions.

“There you are!” your younger brother jumped on you, hooking his arm around your neck.

“Congratulations!” you heard one of your cousins shout as well, wedging celebratory balloons between you and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan chuckled to himself. His heart sinking a little – maybe this is all you and Jeonghan would be to each other.

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your mother asked, of course, first of all people and things. She gestured to Jeonghan. Her eyes were curious, scanning him up and down.

Your younger brother released you and you straightened yourself out. You waved for Jeonghan to hold up his hand to greet your mom.

“Mom, this is Yoon Jeonghan, my uh . . .”

What were you two exactly?

“Friend,” Jeonghan finished for you. “Y/N’s friend – we met through Wonwoo.”

“Friend?” your mom repeated suspiciously.

“Friend,” Jeonghan nodded in reassurance.

“Friend,” you said again – it left a funny taste in your mouth though.

“Well, pleasure to meet you,” your mom took his hand. Your dad, a kind, but quieter man, followed shortly after.

After some small talk, Jeonghan excused himself from your family, explaining he needed to find his own. He gave you one last longing look when he said goodbye, sending you off with a small wave of his shoulder. It was accompanied by a tender smile; a bittersweet tint to his eyes. It made your heartache a little, a sense of panic overtaking you when your family pulled you away.

You decided, you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Yoon Jeonghan.

Yes, perhaps, he did mention moving to another city for his new job, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to lose this chance.

You asked your cousin to lend you a pen and hastily rip out a scrap of the placeholder in your diploma (it wasn’t your actual degree anyways – that would be coming in the mail after your finals were graded). Quickly, you scribble your phone number onto it. Folding it up, you excuse yourself briefly from your family, not caring if your mom noticed and would lecture you later about how girls shouldn’t make the first move and that if Jeonghan liked you, he would’ve already asked you out.

“Jeonghan!” you shouted.

He turned around, a few steps away from who you presumed was his family. They also tuned in, eyes turning to observe the interaction.

He was smiling, though evidently confused.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you marched towards him and held up the folded paper in your hand, gesturing for him to take it. He didn’t take it. His eyes only flickered from you then the paper, then back at you.

When he doesn’t make a move, you reach for his wrist, pressing it into his palm and folding his fingers over, ignoring the way your cheeks felt ablaze.

“See you around, Yoon Jeonghan.”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: You fucker

[Wonwoo]: Excuse me?

[Jeonghan]: [insert image]

[Jeonghan]: Your handwriting is HORRENDOUS!

[Jeonghan]: It was a 4 not a 6!

[Wonwoo]: LMAO

[Jeonghan]: Fuck you

[Wonwoo]: Hey – think of it as part of the plot. You’ll thank me later.

[Jeonghan]: Whatever

[Wonwoo]: Well???

[Jeonghan]: ?

[Wonwoo]: Are you just gonna curse me or are you going to text her!?

. . . .

[Uknonwn number]: Hi 🙂

[Unknown number]: This is Yoon Jeonghan – please don’t block me!

[Unknown number]: . . . um hello?

[Unknown number]: omg did i fuck this up again

[Y/N]: [your message not delivered]

[jeonghan]: well fuck.

[Y/N]: Haha – jk.

[Y/N]: Hi Jeonghan 🙂

. . . .

You and Jeonghan found yourselves texting daily and calling nearly nightly. It started out as simple banter, but evolved to mundane questions of what you ate for lunch to 3AM discussions ranging anywhere from your post-bac thesis to whether straws had one or two holes.

The calls at night were short on the weekdays, but they were disgustingly long on the weekends. Rather than going out on Friday nights, Jeonghan would make excuses to not go to the bar with his new colleagues as to just be able to talk with you on the phone for hours and hours. At some point, they caught on that Friday nights were reserved for you, teasing him about the much anticipated call as they left the office. Jeonghan being the seemingly transparent and nonchalant man he is, just chuckled and brushed it off.

Typically, he’d give you a ring around 8PM on FaceTime. He’d watch you cook, maybe even eat his delivery while you ate dinner, and you’d talk for hours thereafter about everything and nothing into the early morning hours, only stopping when you drifted off to sleep or he claimed he was aging prematurely and was tired.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you whispered into your phone one evening. His end of the call was already dark, only a lamp in the distance illuminating his features. You peaked up to see him keeping one eye open underneath his bed of hair that was an ashy sombre now, blending his dark roots with a more neutral blonde.

He hummed softly, signaling he was still there. “Technically, you just did.”

You chortled. “Prick – maybe I won’t.”

“I’m kidding,” he raised his head to look at you. Sleep was heavy on his eyes, his lids weighing down. “What’s up?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to forgo the question that has been haunting you recently. You opt to redirect the conversation in another direction instead.

“I got an internship,” you told him.

This truly woke him off. “What? Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Where at?”

“Park Consultants,” you told him, “But, I’m not sure I should take it.”

“Love, what?” Jeonghan said, confused.

You pretend to bury you face in frustration, but you were really trying to hide the way your lips wobbled at the nickname: Love.

When did the two of you get this far?

Despite things going well between you and Jeonghan, there were always those thoughts that lingered in your mind.

It was clear, there was nothing ‘just platonic’ about your relationship, as Wonwoo had pointed out several times. “Just get married already!” he’d joke.

Yet, the unconventional nature of it, made you wary.

It was only when Jeonghan moved away did the two of you become closer and it didn’t sit well with you. You remember vehemently telling Dami you couldn’t do long distance relationships – you had trust issues and were the jealous type. Yet, here you were glued to your phone most times of the day you weren’t working to talk to him. Your perspective of him was limited to a small rectangular screen – was he really who he presented himself to be? Your mother had always warned you about men like Jeonghan too – charming and playful with a smooth tongue, but snakes behind your back. You wondered if he was seeing someone else. In technicality, it was within his right; the two of you weren’t anything in particular. She also told you once that girls should not initiate, but be pursued – at least from graduation on, that was definitely not your story.

“I wonder,” you stabbed your wooden spoon into your ice cream turning to Wonwoo, “Could it be that I just . . . like him because he reassured me at my lowest?”

You and Wonwoo had met up for ice cream. Tonight, Jeonghan’s family was visiting him, so he had told you ahead of time he couldn’t call as he would be spending time with him. The topic of you and Jeonghan resurfaced and you needed a reasonable sounding board.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo sniffled, feeling the tip of his nose grow cold from the chilled treat.

“I just don’t want to end up being one of those girls who fall for someone because he was like, my ‘knight in shining armor’ who whisked me away when I was a damsel in distress,” you explained. “Graduate school didn’t quite pan out – I had just gotten rejected when we went on that walk that night we went to the karaoke bar and then graduation. I’m just worried I’m swooning for the wrong reason. I don’t want my relationship to be hinged on pity and depending on him.”

Wonwoo snorted, much to your surprise. Your expression was quick to change into a scowl. “What?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “When were you ever a damsel in distress? And if anything, Jeonghan was never and will never be anyone’s knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t think you get it,” you muttered, picking at the clump of cookie dough.

“Yes,” Wonwoo swallowed the ice cream left in his mouth before continuing. “You may have met him at your lowest, but that’s not what matters. He didn’t save you and you didn’t save him. Neither of you needed saving to begin with – you’re both capable of picking yourselves up in the situation as shown.” Wonwoo held out his hands, “The way I see it, he was the first person you could readily be vulnerable with and that is what matters. Someone you feel safe with – amidst other things of course. Y/N you could hardly meet up with me that week and Jeonghan did it in the matter of seconds. I think that says something.”

“But you know, my mom said–”

“Fuck what your mom says – trust yourself for once, okay?” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. To his defense, you’ve spiraled about your mother’s expectations for you to him many times before and it was tiring. It was rare that Wonwoo just swore like that. “Maybe he’s not the stellar, perfect future son-in-law she has preached your entire life, but that’s okay. Trust him – trust Jeonghan. Despite his annoying antics sometimes, he’s a good guy – he’s always been. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.”

. . . .

Jeonghan returned to the city almost a year and a half later for the holidays. The both of you try to arrange for plans to meet up, but in the spirit of the holiday season, timing doesn’t quite work out right due to family. Jeonghan invited you to his family Christmas party, but you suddenly became bashful, unsure of how he’d introduce you to his immediate family, let alone his cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles.

Friend? Girlfriend? Friend girl?

You declined politely, explaining to him it was too overwhelming. Gratefully, Jeonghan was understanding, promising to stay in town a little longer after the New Year’s for you – it made you feel all weird and tingling inside.

Like you were special.

Nonetheless, you were fated to meet once more before that as Minghao and his now fiance threw a New Year’s Eve party at his penthouse and you were both invited. You were unsure if Jeonghan would make it, however, as he mentioned his younger sister had a small celebration she wanted him to attend. You end up third wheeling Soonyoung and Dami to the party as Soonyoung offered to drive, but mingle amongst the others.

Just as you’re finding yourself getting more immersed in your conversation with Seungcheol and his girlfriend, the lighthearted and drunken banter regarding his tattoo experience was interrupted by a nerve wracking, but familiar, presence. Someone’s hand slipped around your waist, a warmth blooming across your body, the silver long-sleeved dress seemingly not so warm. Smile fading, you turn to the figure standing in the once empty spot on your left to find Jeonghan occupying the space with a playful smirk stretching from ear-to-ear. He gives Seungcheol an apologetic look and then pulls you closer into his side. The latter grinned, raising his cup in greeting and a silent good luck.

Despite his flirtatious advances, there was a glint of alarm and plea in his eyes. Your lips parted to question him, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Jeonghan leaned forward, turning his head to better dip into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. The waft of soju about him stung your nose; the warm, small breeze from his small, hesitant breath made you shudder. You gripped your own red solo cup a little tighter, crinkling the edges in the process.

There was no ‘hello’, ‘I missed you’, and no wave. He simply leaned in and asked, “Dance with me?” His voice was low, loud enough just for you to hear as if he was sharing a secret no one else dares to know.

He was wiggling his eyebrows playfully when he pulled back to look at you. The way he tugged you towards the crowd in the living room, fingers hooking tightly with yours, told you there really wasn’t a choice.

Whether you want to or not, you were going to dance with him.

Jeonghan handed off his red solo cup to a random presumed man standing by, chatting up a girl in a strapless silver mini dress. The stranger looked confused, but Jeonghan didn’t mind – his eyes were trained on you, as if you were the only person in the room. The bodies bumping into him didn’t seem to bother him; his grip on your hand was unrelenting, fearful to lose you amidst the sea of intoxicated party goers. His roguish expression made your breath hitch; you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

Your musing was interrupted by Jeonghan’s sudden pull. Swiftly, your feet tumbled over one another and before you could register, you were flushed against his chest. Jeonghan brought up his hand, ghosting against the small of your back until his arm is fully wrapped around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, pressing a hand to his chest.

He grinned like you were the only thing at this party that brought him joy.

“That’s no way to greet a friend after so long,” Jeonghan frowned.

“Neither is sleazily dragging me onto the dance floor,” you faked a pout, “Consent in this day and age is sexy, Jeonghan.”

“Like you’d say no to dancing with me,” he teased. “But if you insist,” he stepped back and gave you a knowing look. “Would you like to dance with me, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled girlishly, nodding and extending an arm for him to come back.

He had a point – you’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeonghan do at this point.

The music suddenly slows, the fast and heavy beat melding into something mellower.

Fate was cruel, but sometimes, it was nice.

(Or maybe Wonwoo just requested Jihoon to DJ a slower song – just a thought.)

“How’ve you been?” Jeonghan finally asked. He peered at you, the lights bouncing off his dark irises. His steps slowed and you followed, rocking from side to side to meet the new rhythm.

“You ask that as if we don’t talk every day,” you remarked. You’re embarrassed, nonetheless, turning your head so you don’t meet his eyes.

“It has been precisely fourteen days and,” Jeonghan peered at his watch quickly, “twelve-ish hours since we last talked on the phone. A lot can happen in that time.”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “Such as?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as he came to a halt. Hand slipping down to link with your own, he ran his thumb across your knuckles as he finally caught your gaze. You were nervous – or maybe, it was just the champagne coursing through your veins. Your eyes were blown wide and glossy, breathing shallow. You were still, holding your arms close to your body. He did wonder if there was a piece of him that fucked up.

“Could I show you instead?” Jeonghan asked.

He didn’t wait for an answer, only holding onto your hand firmly and weaving in and out of the crowd until you met a set of stairs that led you to the top floor of the penthouse.

Oh my god . . . he wouldn't, right?

Jeonghan moved to a room on the left, twisting the pearly white knob, and pausing briefly to make sure it was empty before entering.

He pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you. It was dark – only the city lights and slivers of the waxing moon slipping through the murky white tulle curtains. It lit up a slit from the large balcony window, tracing a path to Jeonghan and you, who were now pressed up against the door.

He was awfully close – one tip of your chin and your lips would touch.

Wait – what!?

Why were you thinking about kissing him?

The franticness of it all must’ve been evident on your features, Jeonghan’s sly grin only growing further, eyes curving to mimic the moon. There was a wink of light in his dark brown orbs – warm, mischievous– before he pushed away, tucking his hands into his suit pants.

“Just kidding,” he finally quipped.

You let out a small breath and ease away from the door.

He pointed a teasing finger at you, “You were flustered, weren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Your palms grew sweaty and the tips of your ears grew hot. You were about to turn and open the door again, when you heard Jeonghan quietly call for you to wait.

You spun around to face him again, finding him scratching his temple, he turned back to face you. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Huh?” you questioned.

“I figured it was time to ask you, um . . . be an adult about it,” he continued. Jeonghan smiled at you, his lips in a tilt as he was amused but trying so hard to stick to the agenda. He muttered, “Wonwoo said you would never get it until I asked like this so . . .” Before you have a chance to question him again, Jeonghan sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, inhaling sharply. “Look, I’m not the best at being . . . uh, explicit about my feelings, but for you, I figured I could be, but um . . . say, uh, what do you say, love?”

And your world stopped, breath hitching. Your dress suddenly felt too tight.

What did he just call you?! Again!

“I . . . like you a lot and I have for quite some time now, if you haven’t noticed,” Jeonghan pressed on. He exhaled deeply, letting out a quiet whoosh. Jeonghan tilted his head back and fidgeted for a moment, eliciting at a quiet chortle from you. “What if we tried this . . . dating thing? Yeah?”

The tension Jeonghan felt now was unbearable. It was different from the one at the skating chalet, different from the one at the karaoke bar. Like a rubber band pulled taut to its wits end, he was barely holding on as your quietness ensued.

You suddenly start laughing, throwing your head back in guffaw and slapping your knee. Jeonghan was a bit scared – both just of you and what that meant. Did you not feel the same? Was he the one who got played?

Did he really just rearrange his life to be rejected?

Heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, your laughter died down as you made your way towards him. Each step felt so long and far away, but it was only a matter of seconds before your arms were wrapped around his neck. Your fingers played with the fringes of his back hairs, eyes gazing up at him – indecipherable, if he was being honest.

Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t as good at reading you as he thought.

Taking him by surprise, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was brief, but it burned – it was efficient if your goal was to suck all the air out of Jeonghan’s lungs in the matter of the two seconds your lips touched.

That or he was just stunned at your boldness – it was hard to predict.

“You look nice with black hair, by the way,” you noted when you pulled away. Your ran your hand through the front fringes, then teased them back into place.

“What–”

You tiptoed, giving him another kiss – this one longer. He wasn’t prepared, stiff at first, but quick to lean into it and adjust himself to better slot your lips together. Jeonghan gripped onto your waist, the material of your dress bunching into his hands.

“Took you long enough, asshole,” you muttered in between pecks when you pulled away. Jenoghan’s lips chased after you, not quite ready to let go.

“Hey! Your best friend was the one who gave me the wrong number,” Jeonghan shot back. “We could’ve been dating two years ago.”

“Not my fault he writes like a third grader,” you chuckled.

“He said it was for the plot.”

“Can we just stop talking about Wonwoo when we’re kissing? It feels kind of weird.”

“You know, if you think about it, he’s kind of the main character without being the main character.”

“Okay,” you pulled away, pushing at his chest lightly.

“Wait!” Jeonghan giggled, “Come back – I’ll stop.”

“If we stay here any longer, people will get the wrong idea,” you tried to come up with an excuse.

Jeonghan wiggled his brows playfully, pulling you back. “Like I care?”

. . . .

[Present]

“So, that’s why the joke was that Nina was conceived that night,” Wonwoo explained to Leah.

“But she wasn’t because timing wise that wouldn’t make sense – I didn’t carry her for a year and a half,” you interjected. You quickly added, “We didn’t do anything either – just kissed and Jeonghan’s social battery was low so we stayed there until midnight and then I fell asleep.”

“I get that – don’t worry,” Leah waved you off. “But . . . uh, the two of you got married pretty fast then – only a year of dating, huh?”

You and Jeonghan looked at each other, gaze softening.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean that and a year and a half of missed opportunities and pining, but . . . I dunno, it just made sense.”

You nodded in agreement.

“That’s sweet,” Leah smiled, “I’m glad it worked out for you guys in the end and you got that job to bring you back here. Fate is so quirky sometimes.”

“Babe,” Wonwoo shoved a spoonful of chocolate cake into his mouth. His words were garbled, “Please don’t make them sentimental – they’re kinda gross and sappy when they get into it.”

“Uncle Wonwoo, mommy says no talking with food in your mouth!” Nina exclaimed.

He gave the little girl an apologetic look and swallowed . . . without chewing.

Three pairs of eyes widened, the little one not thinking much of it.

“Did you just–” Y/N started, but was too stunned to continue.

“Are you okay?!” Leah exclaimed. She passed him her own glass of water. Wonwoo wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled sheepishly, first at her then you and Jeonghan. “Please don’t choke – we’re getting married in less than a month!”

“Mommy, mommy! Can I try?” Nina exclaimed.

“No,” you deadpanned. Nina knew that voice, going back to play with her spoon instead.

Jeonghan guffawed, “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re marrying him!”

Woonwoo gave him a dark look, gesturing to his daughter. Anyone who knew Wonwoo knew he didn’t like cussing, let alone, around children. “Language,” he scolded.

. . . .

[Bonus]

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you stated as you wiped the wet cup. Jeonghan had his nose stuck in the dishwasher, making sure all the items were arranged appropriately.

“Hm?” He waited for you to continue.

“We all know why I fell for you, but . . . what made you fall for me? At first, that is,” you asked. “I feel like I never got a clear grasp on that.”

Jeonghan grinned, standing up from his crouched position. He stepped towards you, planting a hand on your waist. “That’s easy.”

“Is it?” you raised your eyebrows, curiously.

He hummed and nodded adamantly. “I thought you knew.”

“Well, you’re not the most forward about everything,” you noted.

“You remember the perilla leaf debate?”

“Yeah.”

“It was that,” he explained, “Dami had asked and your answer was that you’re the jealous type, so you’d peel it for everyone to avoid bad vibes and hurting your own feelings – and while saying that, you were actually peeling the perilla for everyone.”

Your jaw grew slack, swatting at him with the dish towel. “That’s it?” you exclaimed.

“I mean, it was an added bonus that you were kind of cute,” Jeonghan joked.

“You suck.”

“What? I love the self-awareness and honesty!”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

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mattitties · 4 months

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how i think chris and matt jerk off

NSFW (obviously) !!

chris

- always in his room in bed in like the middle of the day/evening bc he doesn’t sleep alone 😭

- definitely watches the cheesy scripted porn and sets it up on his laptop next to him so he can use both hands

- milf porn from time to time let’s be fr but its usually just fast and rough and he loves seeing girls give head

- likes to just watch first to get himself turned on and then starts

- he doesn’t tease himself; he immediately starts going hard

- he’s always rough af with himself; fast motions and he loves a tight grip

- he’s always loud during sex and that doesn’t stop when he jerks off

- he’s a big groaner; “fuck fuck fuck” “ohhhhh shitttt” when he cums

- cums all over his stomach, uses tissues to wipe it off, washes his hands then goes upstairs like nothing happened

matt

- matt is the complete opposite

- he usually does it in the shower because he doesn’t like to deal with the cleanup

- he’s a huge fan of “amateur” porn; the homemade stuff from twitter

- is a SUCKER for female pleasure. any kind of porn that shows women actually getting off from head or fingering gets him going fast

- he loves to tease himself; he barely touches his tip until he’s in pain, red, and leaking

- he never really goes rough with himself, it’s always pretty slow and he focuses a ton on the tip because he wants to draw it out

- he’s pretty quiet, just heavy breathing, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open when he cums

- he definitely sends cumming videos to his girl if he’s in a relationship

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut

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g4yforethan · 5 months

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super shy

pairing: chad meeks-martin x male!reader

summary: reader catches chad in the act and stays to help

warnings: cursing, top!chad, bottom!reader

a/n: ok this might seem a lil weird but i thought of this randomly in bed and had to start writing! my mind thoo. also they are 18 in this story not tryna do some underage shit that's nasty af.

you were tired and sweaty after gym class and decided to take a quick wash in the locker room. most of the guys in your class had already finished and went home since it was the last class of the day. you also liked it that way since you were a little shy around the guys as well. as the room seemed to get less quiet, you made your way into the showers. you heard the water running so you figured someone had left it on. you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower room. there, you saw him.it was chad. he was pleasuring himself. he moaned as he stroked his long cock with his hands. you were turned on by this as you have had a crush on him the entire school year and it seemed like the universe was working in your favor.

he paused at what he was doing and looked at you. your face was red and you were flustered. "i'm sorry i just got in here right now. i can leave." you said as you started to put your clothes back on. "no no stay here y/n. it's just the two of us. you wanna help me?" your eyes locked with his as he had a devious expression on his face. you walked over to where he was and began stroking his cock. his moans were loud and echoed throughout the room. "fuck. can you suck it?" you nodded your head and went down on your knees and shoved his dick inside your mouth. chad started to grab your hair to make you swallow every inch of his cock. you gagged on it and pulled out as he wanted more of you. “god i wanna fuck you so bad.” he says as he eyes you up and down and grabs ahold of your ass. “then fuck me right now.” you gave him a devious look and he was turned on by this.

he turned you around and smacked your ass before getting on his knees and opening your hole. he stated licking your hole and left hickies on your ass as you moaned out his name. he continued doing this until he couldn’t wait no more and made you get on all fours. there, he teased your hole with his dick and slowly went in at a soft and slow pace. you moaned as his huge cock dug deeper into you and the pulsing sensation of his dick drew you closer to him. “fuck baby you fuck me so well.” you moaned out as he smacked your ass and grabbed ahold of your waist. “yeah just like that baby boy. take this dick.”

he started going at a faster pace and soon enough began wrecking your hole as each stroke became stronger and faster. “ah fuck baby. i’m gonna cum.” “cum inside of me baby.” he came inside of you and filled your hole with his white thick fluid. afterwards, the two of you laid down to catch air. “wow so you’ve been in this class this whole year?” chad asked you. “ha yeah i just stand in the back during tag football. i’m pretty shy.” he came closer to you. “a pretty boy like you shouldn’t be shy at all.” he gave you another kiss on the lips and walked up and left the shower room. before you left, you saw him leave as he winked at you and motioned with his hands to call him. you were going to that night.

#gay smut #men #gay love #malereader #male reader insert #male reader #scream x male reader #gay reader #scream vi #gender neutral insert #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks smut #chad meeks martin x reader #mason gooding #mason gooding x male

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Submissive! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Consensual Non-Con/Dub-Con, Pegging, Edging, Teasing, Overstimulation, Gagging, Riding, Praise Kink (receiving), Slight Bondage, Cock Ring, Mention of Blood, Mild Painplay, Dirty Talk, Petnames, Submissive König, Dominant Reader, Mentions of Pain, Crying, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You', Profanity, etc.

Submissive König lives for your praise.

When you ride him, he goes absolutely feral, completely at your mercy.

When you sink down on him, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans.

He's a moaner - a loud one at that.

If you slap your hand over his mouth and tell him to "Be a good boy, be quiet for me,"--

He's nutting. Immediately.

He's secretly a massive fan of teasing and edging.

Though, when you carry on to the point that his cock is aching and red and weeping, he'll desperately slam his hips up into you, trying to get some sort of friction - release.

Man's fast af, and he's got a lot of stamina. He can go for hours.

Definitely a quick finisher, though if you demand ask him to hold out for you, he'll try his best.

And if he doesn't...well, he gets extremely whiny.

You overstimulate him , punish him to the point he's crying and sobbing, begging you to stop keep going.

And that's just when you're sucking him dry; if you're feeling particularly cruel, you'll usually wear a long, thick strap-on.

"You're not walking for the next week since you're being such a brat," you say, gripping his hair by the roots and lifting his head so he can hear the venom in your voice.

There's nothing he can do except take an absolute pounding from you, moaning your name into the pillows while his hands are cuffed to the bedposts.

All the while, you're calling him your "Good boy," praising him.

"You're taking me so well, Köni. Making it real easy for me to slip inside your tight little hole."

He'll beg you to stop, plead with you to pull out because he can't take any more, but you ignore him, stretching him out on the thick base of your strap-on.

"You should've thought about this before acting the way you did," you hiss. "I'm not gonna stop until you bleed."

If you feel that he's misbehaved in a way that's invoked your unrelenting discipline, you'll put on this one strap-on that makes König's face break out into fear like a rash.

It's long and fat enough that you can see it bulging in König's stomach when you're fucking him, reducing him to a whimpering, sobbing shell of a man.

Whenever he can tell you're going to break it out, he tries to talk you out of it, tries being democratic and barter with you, but your mind's made up.

By the time you're satisfied, he's passed out, breathing heavily, coated in sweat and cum and completely dead to the world.

You also enjoy using a cock ring on him to make sure he gets absolutely no release, not if he's undeserving of it.

You can practically see the base of his cock swell whenever he's close, ready to burst like a pipe.

But you don't let him cum. Not until you say so.

Gag him. Oh my god, GAG HIM.

König gets off on being completely helpless when he's with you, so if you make sure he can't talk or make a sound, his eyes will be rolling into the back of his head.

"You can try to scream and cry as much as you like; nobody's coming to save you."

But be gentle with him during aftercare :-(; he's very fragile after sex and he just wants you to praise him and tell him he did well.

Bathe with him, stroke his hair, press kisses to his temples and his face will just light up like ☺️.

He feels loved and accepted when he can be his true, genuine self with you, different from the other König he becomes on the battlefield.

And it's the thought of you that keeps him going every day, regardless of how grueling or death-defying the mission is.

He's your "Big guy," your "Teddy bear," and nothing will ever take that away from him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

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justagirlwholikesadam · 3 months

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Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L

Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide

Word Count: 12.8k

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Chapter 3

Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name.

“He will get her.”

“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him.

You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders.

“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face.

You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father.

“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine.

“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over.

“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine.

“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.”

“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate.

“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food.

Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.”

“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other.

“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt.

“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.

You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him. Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever.

“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned.

“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you. Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare.

“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing.

“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married.

“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you.

“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter.

“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move.

“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers.

Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up.

“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him.

“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?”

“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you.

“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter.

“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench.

“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench.

“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.

“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go.

“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you.

“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.”

You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips?

“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench.

“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away.

“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears.

“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face. When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.

“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground.

“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you.

“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him.

“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea.

“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin.

“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words.

“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground.

“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.”

The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you.

Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry.

He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.”

Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.

“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him.

There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city.

“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams.

Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold.

“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.”

Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei.

“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony.

Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms. Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her.

“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.”

The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.”

“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.

“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you.

“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court.

Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you.

Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived.

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix.

They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants.

You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing.

The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.

You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him.

Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor.

“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you.

“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices.

A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor.

You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt.

“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you.

The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again.

“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.

“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on.

“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”

“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm.

“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune.

They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps.

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father.

Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech.

“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall.

Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.

It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation.

“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man.

You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped.

“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm. Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor.

“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man.

“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner.

“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped.

“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands.

It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it.

‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword.

“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father.

“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey.

The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls.

“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.

“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself.

“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave.

“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again.

“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.

“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them.

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.”

“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head.

“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms.

“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek.

“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch.

“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path.

“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second.

“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news.

“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.”

“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows.

“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.”

“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked.

“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head.

“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you.

“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.”

“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned.

“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.”

Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.”

“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.”

Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.”

“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.”

“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless.

“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.”

‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him.

“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.”

Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.

“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown.

“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.”

“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred.

Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy.

Sandor wants to be happy with you.

“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him.

“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him.

You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers.

“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage.

“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was.

Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door.

“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow.

“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly.

“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard.

“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen.

“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder.

You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing.

You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed.

“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this.

“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered. “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled.

“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.

“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might.

“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out.

“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!”

You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves.

“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!”

Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept.

He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.”

Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post.

“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind.

He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow.

“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled. Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute.

“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger.

“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.”

“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him.

Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field.

Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head.

“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him.

Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him.

They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent.

“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him.

“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you.

Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats.

“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent.

“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face.

“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent.

“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes.

“Father-.” “Pleas-.”

Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights.

You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.”

You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out.

“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey.

“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this.

“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you.

“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms.

“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey.

“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying.

“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside.

He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin.

“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger.

“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face.

“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out.

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder.

Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you.

“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took.

You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out.

You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms.

Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth. He flinched when you started to cough up blood. The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you.

“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."

“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words.

He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert is half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream.

Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie.

Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms.

Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face.

“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face.

The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried.

“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.

“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge.

“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert.

“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing.

Joffrey was indeed a bastard.

Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in.

Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained.

“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground.

“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it.

“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock.

Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go.

“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert.

Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries.

“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children.

Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again.

He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams.

“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door.

Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.

“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door.

“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned.

“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.”

Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands.

“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.”

“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts.

The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed.

“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?”

Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.”

Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing.

For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully.

Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you.

His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.

Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.”

Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned.

“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him.

“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it.

“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.

Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him.

Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room.

“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.

“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck.

Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison.

“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<- Chapter 2

Taglist: @federalclassroom @snixx2088 @just-a-burning-memory @darknight3904 @watercolorskyy @@nothing2113 @thyjinji @norakbubbles @mrs-marvel-addict @ellesmythe

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #games of thrones #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones fanfiction #rory mccann #angst #sandor clegane angst #sad #sadgirl #death #tw death

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daikiswife · 11 months

Text

Headcanon: Dating a black Bimbo

notes: Hey hey! English isn't my first language so sorry if it's not perfect!

synopsis: Just, what if Dabi and Shigaraki had a Black Bimbo girlfriend~

warning: fluff, nsfw, cursing, semi-public, degrading, dry humping, cock drunk, pussy drunk, breeding kink, reader is part of the lov.

Tomura Shigaraki

First of all, your relationship is a true definition of "opposites attract". Shigaraki is the quiet type and he's outstanding only when he has to. When you're bubbly, extravagant and kind of loud sometimes.

but somehow you both get together

he likes the way you dress, and even if he doesn't say it out loud, he still wonders why a girl like you would date him

"so how do I look ?"

he stares at you for so long without saying anything, you are way too hot for his poor brain "Take a picture it'll last longer~" you say with a smirk on your lips. "stfu. That skirt is way too short, you hoe." you stick your tongue out to him "yeah yeah, you like it though~"

when you started dating, due to his quirk. he was very uncomfortable with touching you.

but you're touch starved and you need his hands ALL. OVER. YOU.

so he bought some digital artist gloves, spending his time squeezing your waist, thighs and ass no matter if people are watching or not

he'll slides his hand between your thighs, lightly strocking your covered pussy.

he also likes to kiss your neck slowly going down reaching your deep-cut biting your perky nipples through your shirt

he LOVES when you get your nails done make it long af he loves it "next time you should do them in baby blue... it would suit you"

he will definitely pay for your nails.

if you take him shopping he will complain all day about how much he wants to go home to play video games

but if you want something, he'll pay for it.

"Baby, what do you think of this one ?" he lazily raises his head to look at you "You look like a whore" "okay I'll take this one then~"

once again Shigaraki loves your style so he doesn't mind if what you're wearing "too short" or "too revealing", he likes it

but if someone dare look at you in some disgusting ways, he'll decay them without thinking twice

Don't look at his girl like if she was a piece of meat.

Shigaraki is very possessive

he likes to have you close when there's a lot of people around

so you're often on his lap, even during meetings

but you're such a tease, always trying to get him hard when you're supposed to sit still

pretending to find a more comfortable way to sit as you just press his covered cock with your ass

but your actions have consequences

and Shigaraki is not the patient type.

at the second that the two of you will be alone, he'll bent you over any surfaces and shoves his hard penis inside of you

"Aw look at you" he cooed "you're moaning like a dumb slut on my cock~"

he'll go rough on you, making you moaning and screaming. letting everyone around earing you "that's it baby, scream my name let them know who you're belonging to~"

Dabi

From fuck buddies to lovers in blink of an eye

You get under this man skin ngl

He loves your style, that what's peak his interest in you, but now that you both are dating he can't stop noticing the looks of others on you.

Dabi takes any occasions he has to smack your ass and boobs

"Okay I'm leaving see you later baby" you say and he looks at you "not with that skirt. go change yourself" "wtf no! I love this skirt!" he sighs "babe, I can see your bright pink thong from where I am. it's not even covering you ass properly."

like this man will do it in public with a proud smile when you'll turn to look at him

"look baby I got some new nails~!" "you really do like scratching my back, ain't you~" "wha- ITS NOT ABOUT SEX !"

Dabi is not really fond of nails, like he doesn't like it when it's too long and he will never pay for it

but he will definitely pay for nipples piercings

"oh no... I've break one of my nails..." he smirks "oh no you'll not going to require my help to masturbate anymore~"

Dabi is possessive and oddly jealous

if he sees you speaking with an other guy he'll come calmly, grabbing you by the hips, backhugging you while sending death glares to the poor guy.

when the guy is gone, you'll look at him with a disapproval look "What ? At least he's alive."

he loves making sexual jokes obviously but there's those moments when he's looking at you for a short time and his only thought is "damn I love this girl..."

"You're really pretty you know that ?" he says, dragging you on his lap "where did that come from?" "shut up, just take the compliment"

He's really weak for your touch and when I say weak, it's an HEAVY "weak".

And sometimes no matter where you are, you'll be ending with him between your thighs, your legs wraps around him while he fucks you deep and hard against a wall

his lips busy biting your neck and giving you hickeys, holding back his moans

shhh... I know princess~" he whiper next to ears, biting you lobe lightly "But you have to keep it down, people will ear you~"

he'll keep fucking you, filling you with cum before letting you go "You're such a good girl~"

Then you'll both join the meeting like nothing happens

and he'll smirks like an ass seeing his seed slowly running down your thighs

note: I'm sorry if the NSF isn't good I'm not to write those in english :(

#anime x black!reader #black!fem!reader #black coded reader #dabi x reader #dabi x black!reader #bimbo reader #black bimbo #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x black!reader #mha x reader #mha x black reader #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha lov #league of villians x reader #bnha headcannons

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bloompompom · 9 months

Text

Safekeeping - Aftermath

the second part to safekeeping | read the first part here

After a proposition to lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend, it becomes difficult to move on once you’re away at college. Difficult for who? That's up for debate.

✧ content: ~9.4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/college au. upgraded from porn without plot to porn with feelings, older brother's friend trope, reader’s brother has a name, sappy af, mutual pining/getting together, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, spit, praise, pussy job, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: because they deserved a happy ending, didn't they?

You did it. Your first semester of college was officially over.

Actually, it ended roughly two weeks ago when your final grades were uploaded. Now, you were smack in the middle of winter break, left with no responsibilities other than lounging before your family’s fireplace.

You were grateful, and it wasn’t just from the holiday spirit. You were overjoyed—and not to mention, relieved beyond belief—because college was everything you hoped it to be. It wasn’t exactly like the movies, of course, but it was damn near close. You got along well with your roommate, and for once in your life, your professors didn’t hold their grudges toward your brother against you because they didn’t have any.

And it just so happened that you were seeing someone. Something casual, no big deal.

You meant that earnestly. The guy wasn’t much to write home about, and he definitely wasn’t the one. He was just… there.

It was fun, though! It had to be, or else you wouldn’t keep going back to him. You felt a connection right away—it was why you slept with him in the first place—but after your semi-regular hookups, it just sort of fizzled. It was fine. He was fine.

Anyway, he hadn’t tried to reach out since you left, even once. You wanted it to hurt only because it felt like it should, but you couldn’t find it in you. Talking to him sounded less than appealing, if you were being honest. You much preferred to spend the better half of your days catnapping around a house much warmer than your dorm. The only person you bestowed your precious attention on was Hitch, your grade school bestie who was also visiting home. But that was about to change.

After breakfast, your brother Collin came knocking at your bedroom door, creaking it open with just his knuckles.

You peered up from your phone when he asked, “Got any plans later?”

“No,” you replied. He was giving you this weird look. Then he closed the door. “What’s the about?”

“I’m going to a party tonight. Wanna come?”

You looked from side to side because he had to be talking to someone else.

“Don’t be dumb.” He leaned against the wall like he planned to be there for a minute. “You’re old enough now. I’m sure you’ve gone to plenty at school, anyway.”

You weren’t buying into the whole brotherly love schtick. You deadpanned, “Mom and Dad said you have to bring me wherever you’re going, right?”

Collin’s shoulders slumped in that ‘you caught me’ sort of way. “I told them it was an ugly sweater party as a cover-up, and they bought it a little too well—said I have to take you if I want to go. They’re worried about you, all cooped up inside and—”

“Okay, I get it!” You didn’t need to hear that your parents thought you were a loser. There was nothing wrong with wanting some peace and quiet during your vacation.

To really sell the lie, you needed ugly sweaters. Neither of you had thought that far ahead, and you had to go thrifting after your parents began pestering you about it. On the drive to the store, you told Collin he had to pay for yours since he forced you out, and he spent the ride home complaining that he should have simply snuck out and saved the money.

“But then you’d have to cover for me, and I’d have to see your sad, lost-puppy eyes as you stayed in for another night,” he jested. You thumped his forehead.

Hours later, the two of you were back in the same seats. Collin parked the car, and the overhead light cut through the pitch-black neighborhood. He unbuckled, then immediately yanked his knit sweater over his forehead.

“I’m not planning on coming home tonight obviously. I’m staying at Jean’s. What about you?”

“Hitch’s,” you answered, peeling off your own sweater and throwing it into the backseat. “She didn’t want to come, but she offered to give me a ride to her place to stay the night. I doubt I’ll stay long.”

You stepped out of the car together. The doors slammed shut, and the sound echoed off the houses.

“Sounds good. Just be sure to let me know when you leave,” he said.

Collin parked a block or so away. On the walk, you started to overthink things. If Jean would be there, would Eren be there, too? You wanted to say it had been a while since you last thought of him, but that would be another lie you’d have to tally for the night.

“So,” you drawled. “Is Jean going to be here?”

Collin snorted. “Duh. It’s his house.”

He didn’t mention that earlier.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Past your stomach, like it had splat on the pavement.

As fate would have it, you did see him at the party. Eren. Not immediately, but it might as well have been.

You had only drunk roughly three-quarters of a beer when you saw Eren, and it wasn’t nearly enough to dull the weird twirly feeling pitting in your stomach. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was a confusing one, that was for sure.

It wasn’t that you regretted what you had done, not in the slightest, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to see him. How couldn’t you be? This was the first time you’d been in the same room since you had naively bared it all for him, looking about as pathetic in bed as a newborn faun taking its first steps.

At the very least, you expected to see Eren the morning after—you actually dreaded it. You stayed in your bed, laid on pins and needles, staring at your ceiling until you could no longer. And even then, the basement remained silent.

They eventually emerged from their hibernations once the afternoon rolled around. Eren was nowhere to be found, as if he was suddenly the earlier riser of the group. You supposed it was less awkward this way.

In that emotional cauldron you were brewing, the one that was close to boiling over, you felt a dash of jealousy. It was strange and unexpected, but now that you saw Eren cozied up with some girl, her legs draped over his lap… the feeling was certainly there.

You hated it. Especially after your eyes lingered for too long, resulting in very brief, very fleeting eye contact between you. It was over and done with so fast that you didn’t even get a good look at his face. Was he surprised? Indifferent? It was only a guess at this point. But you—well, you made it entirely clear that you were avoiding him, what with the speedy way you spun on your heels to flee. It was a dead giveaway as to how you were feeling, whatever it was.

You tossed back the rest of your beer, then went scouring for what was next. Your best bet was what appeared to be a thrown-together hot chocolate bar. Not the best option but certainly not the worst. The slow cooker, still halfway full, sat warming on the counter. Surrounding it were loose bottles of cream liquors and peppermint schnapps, torn-open bags of marshmallows, and whipped cream if you were feeling fancy. Very on-theme for tonight’s holiday party.

In an attempt to look busy—keep your gaze low, hands moving—you headed that direction.

You fiddled with a stack of styrofoam cups and pretended you weren’t overwhelmingly flustered by this unbeknownst feeling. You didn’t do a great job at it. Or at least, Eren didn’t think so. And unlike you, he had already come to terms with his feelings, but only because it had hit him more or less like a freight train.

So let’s go ahead and recap what the last semester was like for Eren, shall we?

Becoming a third-year freed Eren from the required dormitories and roommates. He spent the tail end of his summer moving into an off-campus apartment. It wasn’t much—exactly what one would imagine when asked to envision an apartment with a down payment suited for a student’s budget. One-bedroom, one-bathroom, but it was all to himself.

No different than any other twenty-something, Eren was excited to be on his own. He could see it already: no one to answer to, no one to schedule his life around. And definitely no weird-ass habits he’d have to deal with from a roommate—one he, to this day, couldn’t believe he matched with based on the school’s dumb quiz. He just had to wait out the summer until his lease began, and then his life would officially start.

The vision derailed, of course, just two weeks before he was handed the keys to his (self-proclaimed) bachelor pad. The reason? It was easy enough to guess.

Eren could deny it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change that after fantasizing about his friend’s little sister for days, he selfishly prioritized his needs over his friendship and took her virginity. And in a cruel turn of events, he wound up with feelings for her. It seemed a bit like karma, didn’t it?

From the very second his eyes snapped open the next morning, he convinced himself it was nothing more than a hot dream—albeit one that left him rattled. But when he ambled upstairs, he found his half-drunk glass of water, untouched, exactly where he recalled leaving it.

Days passed, and Eren waited for that dreadful pang of remorse to smack him upside the head for what he had done—what the two of you chose to do together. It never came. Somehow, that felt so much worse.

Now, he had a secret large enough that if it came to light, he’d end up with a black eye from his best friend. Not that it wouldn’t be well-deserved. Even he could acknowledge that. But he was far from guilt-ridden over it. The only thing he regretted was that he hadn’t spoken to you since. He never talked to you much to begin with—he didn’t even have your phone number—so it’d be weird of him to start now, right?

Eren didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so he defaulted to doing nothing. It didn’t feel like there was any right option, like he had already made too many wrongs to turn back now.

His worst offense? To him, it was that he still thought of you when he was, for lack of better words, alone. But that was the only time!

That was how he justified it: he’d only allow his memories of you, though painfully limited, to seep to the forefront then and only then. It was a half-assed boundary at most, Eren knew as much, and it was so wrong of him. You trusted him, you told him that yourself, and here he was, shamefully fucking his fist to nothing more than a mirage because that was all you had left him.

He’d think of your sweet sounds. Those little, fluttering breaths would escape you as a shiver no matter where he touched you. Sensitive and soft and warm beneath his palms, he’d replay the moment you first tried to take him on your own. Lowering yourself onto him, Eren could see you shifting your hips as you learned how to take him, all of him, best. Past lulled and heavy eyelids, you were intent on getting yourself off, no matter what it took. And when you got there—fuck, he wished he could see it again. He wanted to feel it again, something his hand could never replicate.

After, you never went away. That was when Eren knew he was in trouble. When you were no longer a perverted fantasy but still at his side when he’d close his eyes. No longer fucking but basking in the afterglow of it together. Your arm slung around his waist, your balmy cheek resting against his chest. Tangled sheets, kisses pressed to your forehead, bodies sheened and sticky with sweat—all of it.

This went much deeper than merely offering a helping hand to someone in need before she left for college. Eren did the favor of scratching your back, but what you didn’t realize was that you had scratched his, too. The one itch he couldn’t reach. He still bore the scars of it.

You had him in a chokehold, and you didn’t even know it. A very, very complicated chokehold at that. Eren couldn’t believe he had caught feelings for you, his best friend’s little sister! But now he was peeking at—no, who was he kidding? He was religiously checking your Instagram stories.

By the look of it, there was finally some action in that love life of yours. You were never explicit about it, sharing no more than a picture of his hand on your thigh or a strategically-snapped photo of your cocktail with the mystery man’s face reduced to a background blur. The subtle art of a soft launch. It told Eren enough.

So when he noticed how your eyes sprung to the size of saucers when you saw him across the party, he was intrigued. Eren didn’t know when he’d bump into you next, but he often wondered how you’d react. And when you scurried off like a mouse, excitement sparked within him, even if it was at your expense. He needed to know then if you still thought about him—what he did to you, and you to him—despite being with someone else.

He quickly decided there wasn’t any harm in approaching you to say—

“Hey.”

Eren interrupted you just as you attempted to serve yourself hot cocoa. You nearly dropped the ladle when you heard his voice over your shoulder.

You faltered as you piped back a ‘hi’ but smiled through it only because you realized he came looking for you.

“Need some help?” He offered you a smile laced with pity. You followed his eyes to find yourself pouring hot chocolate onto your wrist. You didn’t feel the string of it until then.

You cursed but thanked him when he took your cup. Since it was apparent you needed his help, Eren started making your drink as you searched for some paper towels.

“What alcohol didya want?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” you admitted, nodding toward cocoa-coated hands. “Clearly.”

His mouth curled up at that but nothing more. He didn’t leave any time for your embarrassment to simmer before he replied, “Then I’ll fix you what I made myself.

By the time you were dry and the remnants of your mess were forgotten in the trash can, Eren had mixed your drink and extended it to you. You thanked him for it and took a sip. It was sweet on the tip of your tongue, enough to comfort the burn of liquor that tickled from your throat and down your stomach.

You smiled at him, the kind that made your eyes crinkle. “Cream and peppermint liquor. Good choice.”

“I thought so,” Eren beamed briefly before adding, “Oh—almost forgot.”

He reached for the can of whipped cream, locking his eyes to yours as he angled the nozzle toward your face.

“Open up.”

His smirk was like a wordless language that only you understood. He told you he remembered it—in fact, he even still thought about it—and he wanted to know if you did, too.

You opened your mouth.

A laugh bubbled through you before the cream even met your tongue. Eren’s laugh joined yours when half made it into your mouth. The rest landed on the corner of your lips, daring to spill down your chin. After you thumbed it into your mouth, Eren surprised you by dotting your nose with it, too.

You weren’t stupid; you knew how this looked because it was exactly as it appeared. The action toed the border between playfulness and something more—something that wasn’t entirely uncharted, given your history, but just as forbidden. You would have cared more if anyone was paying you any mind. And if someone important—Collin, Jean… hopefully the list ended there—were to see, you were convinced you could wisely play it off as a joke.

You never expected your next run-in with Eren to go like this. You hoped for it, the shameless flirting, but it was more likely that he’d avoid you like the plague. You convinced yourself of it. You moved on from that ephemeral night, began to see other people, and let your dead-end crush fade away.

No, you didn’t expect this at all. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have imagined it quite like this, with every fiber of your being tightened and set ablaze. And when you laid a hand on Eren’s arm, catching yourself in a fit of giggles, it tightened in reflex, like he felt the burning, too.

You hurdled through the pleasantries even though they weren’t necessary, considering Eren had sex with you off little more than a single conversation last time. In an act of modesty, you were sure, he didn’t directly ask if you were single but instead teased you about Fabio again—asked if you had met anyone that compared.

You hadn’t. The guy you were ‘dating’ was far from your dream man, even to the extent that you had already considered how you’d end it when—if you ever heard from him again.

But Eren didn’t need to know that. You rolled your eyes at the lame joke, offhandedly saying, “I’m sort of seeing someone.”

It piqued his interest, discernible by his raised brow. Either that, or he saw right through you. He leaned into you, close. You wanted to check if Collin was near, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“Oh, yeah?” He tilted his head and repeated, “‘Sort of.’ What does that mean?”

You sensed he wanted you to spell it out for him, the dirty details of it, but you hummed, “You know, hookups, the occasional dinner—not exclusive.”

Whether or not he detected the hint at the end, your answer didn’t seem to suffice. “Is that what you want?”

You swirled your drink, took another sip, and suppressed your shiver. “I’m still figuring out what I want.”

The next thing you knew, Eren had snuck you upstairs. For obvious reasons, you had never been to Jean’s house; you had not a clue whose bedroom Eren had chosen for the two of you. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t distinguish much under the tawny lights strung around the room, but that was far from your first priority. What mattered more was that no one saw you slip away with Eren. It was no big deal that you were about to have sex with your brother’s best friend on their other best friend’s bed, right?

Fuck it. Quite literally.

You shoved the thought to the back of your head much like the way Eren shoved you against the door as he kissed you. He kept one hand cupped around your face and used his other to lock the door behind you. The moment the click of it hit your ears, he pushed a hand between your legs.

You weren’t going to talk about it, the rather large elephant lurking in the room. That Eren offered to take your virginity much like a business proposition, and you agreed to sex that was supposed to feel just as transactional. But the reality of it was that you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night ever since. Neither of you had, so you’d go on and pretend like it never ended.

He palmed over the crotch of your jeans, teasing you before reaching for their button. You indirectly made him work for him, keeping him close with your arms looped around his neck—close enough that your noses were smushed together.

Eren struggled with the zipper next, less focused on it and more distracted by your teeth, gently tugging on his bottom lip. He groaned, and it spilled into your mouth like honey.

You broke the kiss, hands flinging to your sides to slip from your jeans. You bent at the waist, eyes fixed up at Eren, as you wiggled them down your legs. Noting the deep rise and fall of his shoulders, you felt a similar stutter in your own.

He confessed he didn’t have a condom. You told him you were on birth control now, and that was enough for you both to continue—so long as he pulled out, you reminded. He agreed by hooking your leg around his waist. You swung the other to match, locking your ankles against his lower back, and let him carry you to the bed.

Eren navigated to the bed with suspicious ease. He walked backward, lips still on yours, like he knew the room’s layout and where the bed was. You wanted to wince at the realization—that the likelihood this bedroom belonged to Jean had skyrocketed—but you forgot it just as fast when Eren sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap with hands on either side of his face, your tongue in his mouth and against his own. He still tasted like peppermint schnapps. Burned like it, too.

He rucked up your shirt as his hands smoothed along your back. You’d think his fingers were made of matches, scorching trails whenever they roamed. You gasped when he dared low enough to grab your ass, pinching at the fat of it. Your thin underwear bunched in his grasp, dragging along your skin with him.

Eren pinned you to him, working you over the front of his jeans. Back and forth, your hips on a swivel, he used you to get himself hard, only stopping to smear his palms on his jeans when you’d start to slip from his grasp. It didn’t take long before you felt him, stiff and nicely pressed between your legs.

When you started to grind against him, demandingly and all on your own, the kiss went sloppy. Though the plush of your lips brushed together, it was less like making out and more like swapping breaths. Like a warm fog swirling around you, you grew dizzy off it. Eventually, one of you would have to come up for air.

You pulled away right as he sat back. You’d call it harmonious, but that would make it sound graceful. Each of you fumbled to get your shirt over your head, and it cascaded into a tangle of limbs and clumsy laughs. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt next. You’d hate to be the only one in your underwear.

You didn’t see them but felt the tight muscles of his chest. They didn’t give under your touch, even as you flattened a hand against him. He picked up on the hint, that you wanted him to lay back, and you moved together. He pushed himself further back on the bed, you following in a feline-like prowl above him, until he rested against the pillows.

It was a new side to you—at least, one that Eren hadn’t seen yet—and he already craved more. You were no longer shy, not in the way he remembered, but entirely disinhibited with this, dare Eren say, beyond turned-on look on your face. Glassy eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and the cherry on top: that devilish smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

He could only gawk as you pressed your smile to his sternum, then a bit lower. Then even lower than that. Your lips skimmed over the smooth skin of his hip bone, tickling him, smacking him with the realization of how dangerously low you were. Every muscle in his body tightened, his cock throbbing to be touched.

Only a tad bit desperate—he’d call it enthusiasm—Eren snaked his hand down to undo his belt. Once it was off, you helped him out of his jeans, working them and his boxers down his legs. You settled between.

Eren was so kind to you the first time, so exceedingly gentle; the least you could do was give him the chance to see what you’d learned since.

You placed a hand on the top of his thigh. Already, it flexed. You slid it higher, merely palming over his cock at your leisure—not his. He chewed on his inner lip in anticipation, fighting the impulse to rut against your hand. He wasn’t prepared to look that pathetic, even if he felt that way watching you wet your lips. He knew what was coming next, and if he had any air in his lungs, he would have whined at the sight.

When you finally brought your mouth to the tip of his cock, he sucked in a breath. That was all it took, just a swipe of your tongue; you didn’t even have to take him past your lips. Wanting to pull another noise from him, you did it a second time, licking him from base to tip, agonizingly slow.

You knew what he wanted. You could see it plainly on his face: Just put it in your mouth already! Anything, please! But instead of flinging a hand to the back of your head, he gripped the sheets. He let you tease him despite that it wasn’t the time or place for it. Outside the door, there was far-off music. It was indistinct, buzzing behind heavy footsteps and creaking floorboards and laughter—the usual party rumblings. It was as ambient to Eren as white noise, no greater than a low drone. He could only concentrate on suppressing his desire to ruin you—as if he hadn’t done so already. But before he could do that, you needed to show him how much you could take.

So you did just that. Inch by inch.

Eren’s abdominals clenched as more of him disappeared past your lips. Your mouth, wet and oh-so warm, was tight. Intentionally so as you wrapped your lips around him with hollowed cheeks. You found a comfortable, steady pace, bobbing your head over his length. You only paused to gather your saliva, allowing it to pool behind your front teeth. Unabashedly, Eren watched.

It was a sight so incredibly pornographic yet one he found undeniably adorable. Your little expressions had him smitten—how you pursed and puckered your lips before finally spitting. It dribbled from your bottom lip in a lewd string connecting you to him. You let out an uncomfortable giggle, then snapped it with a swipe of your thumb.

He’d say you officially had him wrapped around your pinky finger now—as if he hadn’t been pretending that wasn’t already the case for months.

Up and down, your hand spread the saliva over his length with little resistance. After a moment, you returned your mouth to him, and the little rasp of a moan he let slip caught your attention. Through tear-damp lashes, you found his eyes keen on you, his jaw slightly slack in what you’d only describe as awe.

The buttery lights warmed the side of his face, glinting like fire behind his eyes. You studied every part of his face, from the twitch of his brow when you’d lap your tongue along the underside of his shaft to how his nose would scrunch when you’d swirl around the tip. You wanted to learn exactly what made him feel good so you could do it over and over again, as he had with you.

Eren wrestled himself on whether he should let you continue or not. He didn’t want to stop you, dutifully attempting to take all of him without choking, it was just that he had a better idea in mind.

He sat up enough to guide you to his side with both hands. You could tell he was trying to be smug, but his voice sounded taken as he told you, “Looks like whoever you were with must have been a real amateur.”

Eren had you perpendicular to him now but still bent over so you could keep on as you were.

“Or just selfish,” he added. His hand stroked down your spine and over the curve of your ass. He reached between your legs and pushed your panties aside to make room for him. “Because this way, I can touch you, too.”

You moaned when his fingers traced over your slit. He used the pads of them to circle your clit and didn’t falter even as you wiggled back against his hand. With his free hand, he cupped your face, gently encouraging you to pick up from where you had left off. You were more than willing.

He dipped a finger inside you. On impulse, he jerked deeper into your throat when he felt you flutter around the intrusion, as if he could feel it in his cock. Every whimper he’d coax from you sounded even sweeter when muffled.

“Not to mention, he must be a fucking idiot to miss out on this.” Eren’s voice was a murmur up until the end. Then it was a hiss. “Because I bet you look real pretty coming with your mouth full.”

He spoke to you softly, the timbre of his voice a warm hum, yet his confidence was palpable. The back of your neck burned.

Though you clung to it like a shield, your strength began to waver. It was evident by the quiver in your thighs every time he’d slip from you, fingers dripping, to play with your clit. Every time, you followed it with another strangled whimper. Each was like a gift to Eren.

He had brought you to the brink of becoming undone. All the while, he watched contently, head drooped to his shoulder and everything. He felt the tiny huffs from your nose fan over his pelvis as you sputtered around his cock. Your arm would wobble, elbow threatening to give out, as you struggled to focus on him and your orgasm, impending and fogging your senses. You had forgotten how wonderful another person could make you feel, and this was just his fingers.

Eren was a bit of an anomaly; it only took you a few encounters to conclude such. Not everyone was talented with their fingers or their tongues or their—the list could go on, really. But it was more than deftness alone. Eren actually wanted to make you come, and by the look of it, he was just as needy for it as you were. And you were right there, the heat of it winding in your stomach until your entire being gained a pulse of its own.

You came with Eren’s cock in your mouth. It overtook you in a glow, burning you from the inside out in a series of little explosions. You dug your nails into his thigh. Your other hand, though shaky, was still around the base of him. You were hardly conscious of how you squeezed him, but he didn’t even feel it. He was more enraptured by the way your throat tightened around him as you choked through your orgasm.

Past the thick thrumming in your ears, you heard how much Eren enjoyed that lovely little mouth of yours—how much he enjoyed using it.

Thunder emitted low from his chest as he rolled his hips, meeting you halfway to ensure every bow of your head was punctuated by another squeak of the mattress and his tip bumped against the back of your throat. He was as delicate as could be while fucking your mouth, yet tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. They welled up and threatened to drip down your cheek, teasing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It tumbled from Eren’s mouth in a ragged chant. His head was thrown back into the stack of pillows, but he fought to steal a glimpse of you before your knees buckled beneath you. “Look at you. You’re fucking perfect.”

Your heart skipped.

You liked that you were the reason for his pleasure—the reason his cheeks bore a flush, and why he could no longer hold himself back. Seconds ago, you had set a scene just as vulgar, helplessly grinding against his hand in a chase for your own high. And now that he was just as swept up in it, he could no longer pretend he had dreamt only of fucking you gently.

There was no way Eren could finish before he had the chance to get started. He regrettably pulled out from your mouth with a spitty pop.

You were still panting when you traded positions. Eren laid you back on the bed, gazing down to trace over the features of your face. He petted the side of it when he said, “You did so good.”

He kissed every spot he touched. Your cheekbone, the lobe of your ear, then the dip below it. You felt each one at the base of your spine.

“Talk to me.” Eren nuzzled the words in the nook of your jaw, breathed them over your skin, sensitive and already tacky from your swelter. His tongue and teeth grazed down the column of your neck. “Tell me what you want.”

There wasn’t any air behind your voice, nothing to carry it when you tried to reply, “Take off my underwear. Please.”

You went to raise your hips for him, but your legs had long turned to mush. There was an unmistakable tremble to them as Eren shimmied off your underwear. You placed a leg on either side of him, spreading yourself and welcoming him between. His eyes, alert as a hawk’s, widened before falling exactly where one would predict. Then he swallowed hard.

He was faced with the task of taking all of you in, as if it were even possible. You followed the tips of his fingers as he trailed them up your curves with a butterfly’s touch. He toyed with the strap of your bra, now wilted off your shoulder and dangling at your arms. With a quick tug, he had your breasts popped over the cups.

Eren licked his lips. “God, you’re—”

He eagerly crashed to your chest, right between your tits. He didn’t intend to cut himself off, but he decided it was probably for the best; he wasn’t sure what he was about to spout out, anyway.

You were just as sensitive as he remembered, unable to keep still as his large hands squeezed at your breasts, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of the delicate skin. When his mouth was latched to one, flicking his tongue at your perked nipple, he’d continue playing with the other, rolling his thumb over it.

As though you could possibly drift away, you anchored yourself to Eren. You raked a hand through his hair, fingering through the lank strands that escaped his tie and hung loose. Before you could screw it up any further, you flinched when you heard voices booming on the other side of the wall. Your entire body froze as you glanced over to the door.

Either Eren didn’t hear it or if he was only pretending he didn’t. His hold on you was steadfast as he covered your body in kisses—that is, until the handle jiggled. He tore away then to follow your line of sight.

You waited for something to happen. Anything. Like the knob to rattle again, or a pound that would shake the door. Maybe someone would kick it down—you didn’t know! But the only sound between you was the thumping of your heartbeat against Eren’s.

Whoever it was, they must have wanted the room for the very same reason you and Eren did because, after a minute passed, you believed they had left. The groan of the floorboards grew distant as another hot and bothered pair continued their search for a vacancy.

You brought Eren back to you by lightly taking him by the forearm. You were unable to wrap your fingers around the entirety of it but managed to pull him in, anyway. At the same time, you dug your heels into the mattress and scooted closer to him.

“I want you,” you quietly confessed. You lifted your hips, angling them in an attempt to meet his cock.

Eren needed to convince himself this was real—that you were real. You hardly gave him the time to before you hitched a leg around his waist. He collapsed over you, caging you between his forearms. His eyes had darkened, brows sitting lowly above them in that drunken, determined look of lust.

He kissed you. The corner of your mouth first, then fully on your lips. Between your legs, you felt him brush against you, throbbing. His tongue parted your lips, slipping past them the moment he pushed inside you.

It stole your breath. Though your mouth was agape, a tiny ‘o’ against his, not a sound left you. He slipped out of you, then filled you again. Your breath returned in the form of a moan. He did this a few more times, deeper with each tilt of his hips, fucking you languidly, just to see if you could take it before he bottomed out.

Eren straightened out. “You okay?”

You gazed up at him and watched his lips curve into a soft smile when you whispered, “More than.”

Then you watched it melt away once you wiggled against him, encouraging him, asking for—no, taking more of him. As though he had been waiting on you, he finally pushed deeper until he was flush against you.

You realized Eren’s composure was an act because it much snapped like a rubber band. You caught his inhale, through his nose and sharp in your ear. His head dropped on his exhale, and you felt it vibrate through you. He thrust into you a few more times, adjusting to you, while tiny grunts played at your ears.

Keeping in mind your whereabouts, you expected this to be a quickie. But before you knew it, you were having the type of sex that wasn’t meant for a friend’s bed. It became pounding hips, so intense—so fucking good—that you heard Eren’s hand hit the headboard with a smack, gripping the top of it for support. It was erratic kisses. Ones that were messy and missed but would catch another part of the face, like the bow of your lip or dip in his chin; gasping and stealing damp breaths from one another in a bedroom growing headier by the second.

Lest he wished to come now and completely ruin everything, Eren had to pump the breaks. He sat back onto his calves and shoved a hand through his hair, sweeping it away from his face. His chest looked heavy, yet his arms remained sturdy as he cradled your hips. He fucked you slowly, mesmerized by the sight of him burying inside you—how well you took him—again and again.

Flustered, you tried to remember how to breathe, but Eren made it difficult with his lazy eyes and an even lazier smile.

You felt your whole body react when he placed a hand at the base of your neck. You were silk beneath his touch, from the dip between your chest, down to your navel. He traced along the side of your body and the swells of your breasts, then repeated it.

Eren had known you for years, but he didn’t know you—not like that. But he knew enough to say he liked you. And he was sure he’d only grow to like you more—a lot more.

He couldn’t wait to get there, to know everything there was to learn about you. Your birthday, your favorite food, what you liked to do on a rainy day—hell, he wanted to know what superpower you’d choose if presented with the option. He wanted every detail of it, and that had to mean something.

Eren grabbed your hand. He held it against his face and kissed the inside of your wrist.

“You’re so soft,” he told you, voice pitched low and spoken into your skin.

The only coherent thought you had was how desperately you needed him again. You yanked him forward until his mouth was back on yours, where it belonged. Taking your open mouth as an invitation, he sucked your tongue lightly. You felt a frisson of heat beneath your skin, but it prickled like a chill.

“Eren. More,” you pleaded, your voice lost somewhere in his mouth.

You twisted beneath him. Eren pulled out and watched as you rolled to your stomach, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. You could only glimpse over your shoulder, but it was enough to see that his eyes were trained on you.

Suddenly hot under his gaze, you rushed to add, “Only if you want to.”

Whether it was intentional or Eren was just seeing things, he swore you arched your back as you said it, ass in the air like it was an offering.

Of course he wanted to. He wanted to so badly that he nearly couldn’t get the words out. From his mumbling, you could only make out, “You have no fucking idea.”

Eren had to kiss you then, everywhere that he could reach. Your lower back and then the valley of it next. He kissed a path between your legs. With his hands on your ass, he spread you, luring a squeal from you when he licked a stripe through your pussy.

He stood tall on his knees, kicked your legs apart, and plunged inside you with a swift swing of his hips. You let out an indulgent moan, your hands clawing fists into the pillows. With the fingers digging into the dough of your sides, he worked you over his cock.

“You feel so fucking good,” Eren panted, almost like a laugh, as if he was in disbelief. He wanted to say he had forgotten how wonderful you felt, almost like you were made for him, but how could he forget? He had only been longing for it.

“Fuck,” you whined under your breath.

You didn’t see it, your head had dropped between your shoulders, but Eren smirked.

“You like when I talk to you, don’t you?”

He watched how your back arched deeper before you answered, babbling, “Yes, yes—oh fuck, yes.”

There was little else on your mind other than how close you were to coming for the second time. Absolutely desperate for it, you bounced back against Eren’s thrusts. He cursed through gritted teeth, watching you sink back onto his cock. His hand snaked between your legs in search of your clit. He began rubbing tight circles that you felt in your toes.

You squeaked out a small, breathless sound as your body tightened.

With a voice like gravel, Eren hummed, “There you go.”

He fucked you through it. His hips never lost their pacing, and the rhythm of his fingers was resolute even as you twitched below him. It wasn’t until you heard him grunt, “I can feel it—shit, I can feel you coming—you’re so tight,” that he began to strain.

With a cheek smushed into the sheets, your moans were choppy until they sputtered into one last sigh. You went slack in Eren’s grasp.

He slipped an arm beneath you before you could crumble to the bed, holding you close enough that he could feel your rabid pulse against his arm. Eren folded over you, lazily rutting into you. You felt his weight atop you, the words he etched into the nape of your neck when murmured, “I wanna be with you.”

Blame it on the orgasm, but for whatever reason, it didn’t register with you. Be with you—wasn’t that what was happening right now?

His hand scooped your chin, angling your face to kiss your temple.

“Come back to my place.” Eren ghosted his lips over your ear. “I wanna be with you tonight, like I should have the first time.”

You could only assume the blood had left your head by now. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were as malleable as putty; you’d agree to just about anything at that moment—if you could. Hazy off all those feel-good hormones, you couldn’t manage a nod as your body rocked with his. After a few more jerks of his hips, he pulled out.

He didn’t come but flipped you onto your back. You slumped into the pillows willingly, your legs falling at your sides so Eren could nestle between. He didn’t enter you again but laid his cock against you, nice and slick for him, and spread you with it. He held himself there with a flattened palm and fucked between you. Wrecked and tortuously sensitive, the head of his cock bumping your clit had you spinning to the point of seeing stars.

Eren’s eyes snapped shut as he focused on your blissful purrs below him. He was already close; it only took another stutter of his hips before he threw his head back and came across your stomach, some of it spurting as high as your tits and neck. The muscles of his arms flexed, the veins of them chiseled and defined, as he held you there, soft and pliant for him.

He was still breathing hard when he stilled. He flexed his fingers, stretching out an ironclad grasp, as he sat back on his heels.

“Fuck, what a mess.” Eren croaked a chuckle. “Sorry.”

He stood and poked around the room a bit before locating a tissue box on the dresser. It skipped through your mind to ask if this was Jean’s room, but you decided it was best you didn’t know.

Eren gave you some tissues before taking his handful to wipe you clean. Despite your attempts at controlling it, you were visibly trembling. He must have noticed because he didn’t rush to dress but flopped beside you, even if he claimed it was because he was too hot to put his shirt back on.

You lolled your head to the side to look at him. Dew painted the edges of his face, catching what little light was there and defining the structure.

You shared a look, let it linger between you. It was unreadable. A face of shock—one you surely mirrored, and yet comfort lapped at you like tropical waves. The two emotions, together in stark contrast, could be summarized with a simple, ‘It’s you.’

Said once through a heavy sigh, like the realization that you were only startled by a friend around the corner.

Said twice with your jaw cartoonishly dropped to the floor when you realized who you had sex with again—the prickle of surprise when you rouse from your dream only to find them naked at your side.

Eren patted the top of your thigh before heaving himself upright. Time to go.

You quickly dressed and straightened out as much as possible, double-checking that no one’s clothes were on backward. Eren was fixing his hair in the mirror when he asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

“You were serious?” you questioned—nicely, of course. You figured it was only a heat-of-the-moment sort of deal.

He caught your eye in the reflection. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t serious.”

It slipped from his tongue easily. It sounded natural, no different than fact, as he told you what he wanted—you. The words were weighty, dragging your woozy head back down to Earth. They sobered you up like a splash of ice water to the face.

You didn’t have any desire to return to the party. There was no way either of you could continue on as though nothing happened. Someone would catch on. Besides that, you didn’t want to pretend any longer; you were much more interested in seeing where the rest of the night would take you—where Eren would take you.

You plotted your exit well enough that Eren was waiting on your ride outside by the time you were sneaking out. You had texted Collin that you were leaving and took his lack of reply as a good sign. You gave Hitch a half-truth—told her you were going home with someone but didn’t specify who.

Eren’s apartment was nice, neat. Still exceptionally new and hardly lived in. Then again, he didn’t fit the type to go full throttle into interior decorating.

He immediately pointed out the bathroom because you had complained you felt gross during the drive. There, you rummaged around a bit before you found his face wash in the shower. You freshened up as much as you could, stealing a swig of mouthwash to rid the syrupy taste of liquor from your teeth.

Eren knocked at the door. You spat into the sink, wiped your mouth, and peeked out.

“Thought you might want these,” Eren said, offering what appeared to be clothes much comfier than your own, folded and stacked in his hands.

You thanked him, inspecting them once he left you to change. You decided on just the T-shirt; it covered enough. There was no use in hiding now, and it certainly wasn’t worth risking tripping over the legs of his sweatpants.

Though you were practically tip-toeing, Eren heard you the second you walked into the kitchen. He stepped out from behind the refrigerator door dressed in just a pair of shorts, no shirt. You held your breath when he smiled at you, ever so lopsidedly that you found it cute.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said like an admission, with a sheepish laugh and all.

Your giggle was just as lighthearted, smiling when you replied, “I am, too.”

He neared you in a step with ardor sparkling through his eyes. With hands closed around your waist, he scooped you up and plopped you onto the counter.

You yelped when its chill hit the backs of your thighs. You made yourself comfortable, sitting happily and with dangling feet, as you watched Eren cycle through what little preparation was necessary for a frozen pizza.

You’d seen him like this, exactly like this, just as you’d seen all of your brother’s friends lumber out from his bedroom at three in the afternoon on a Saturday. You never looked for too long; that was off-limits. But now, things were different. He was different—to you, at least. Now you could touch.

You studied the sinewy muscles of his back, how they pulled taut when he reached into the freezer. Even under the fluorescent light of the kitchen, the crests of his shoulders shone like gold even though it was the middle of a sunless winter.

Eren squinted to read the instructions on the back of the box. Your snickering was met with his side eye, and he followed it with a ‘don’t laugh’ as he tossed the box aside.

He snatched a bag of chips from the counter, and the two of you split them as an appetizer while the oven preheated. While the pizza baked, you played a game of twenty questions, just to pass the time. And when the timer blared, you ate your slices straight from the oven and asked each other questions with burnt tongues.

You learned that Eren’s birthday was on March 30th and that his favorite food was a cheeseburger, hold the pickles—that part was important. When it rained, he preferred to either nap or go outside to watch the storm, no in between. And if he woke up one day to discover he had superhero-like powers, Eren would want to be able to teleport and travel the world, even if his clothes couldn’t come with him—yes, you asked.

The questions continued into the bedroom because some answers, like the one to the superpower question, inspired lengthy conversations. You met Eren in his bed and curled against him, letting him spread the blanket over you. You were glad to have stuck with just the tee because you liked the feeling of his skin returning to yours, your legs intertwined with his.

It was Eren’s turn. It was the final question to end the game. You thought he’d contemplate it longer, as he had with his previous questions, but it only took a beat for him to ask, “Can I see the guy you’re dating?”

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed a laugh at his audacity, even sitting higher in your seat to balk at him. “Besides, that’s not how the game works.”

Still, his grin widened. “C’mon, please. It’s the least I deserve.”

He poked you playfully, causing you to giggle as you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to size up my competition.”

You wanted to be just as bold and tell him there was no competition, none at all. But your reluctant, “Fine, here,” said enough as you settled back into the crook of his arm.

You outstretched your phone before your face, far enough that Eren could see the screen, and scrolled to your dating app. You flitted through his profile because you didn’t want Eren to get a proper look, but he plucked the phone from your hand anyway. He glanced from you to the photo, then back to you once more.

“Seriously? This guy?” He tilted his head knowingly. “You know you can do better than that.”

Thinking you were clever, you sassed, “Oh, then are you suggesting you’re better?”

He flashed a cheeky smile. “Of course I am.”

You grabbed your phone from him with a roll of your eyes. “Whatever. He’s nice.” Eren pulled a face. “What?”

“It’s just the way you said it—‘he’s nice,’” he explained. “You don’t actually like him, do you?”

Eren was right. You didn’t want to admit it, though, not with the way he was eyeing you. But the truth sat heavy in your chest, and it consoled some of the weight to outrightly say, “No, not really. Not like I thought I did.”

You didn’t have the chance to set your phone aside before Eren snagged it again. Now aware of the guy’s name, he easily sorted through your contacts and found your messages with him. The unanswered text you last sent, well before winter break, stared back at you mockingly.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment waiting for Eren to comment on it, but whatever he was thinking, he kept the comment to himself.

It was undeniable that the guy must be a real prick for ignoring you. In turn, Eren determined he probably deserved what was coming: a message as short and sweet as ‘I think it’s best we don’t see each other again.’

Though you could have stopped him at any time, you still gasped, “Eren!” when he sent the text. It was meant as a scold but spilled from you as a laugh—as laughter, shaking your shoulders and making it a challenge to get your phone back.

A middle-of-the-night text like that could only mean one thing. You were sure he’d put the pieces together—that you had gotten with someone else—but you didn’t care. Now that he was out of the way, Eren ditched your phone next and captured the last bit of your attention.

His eyes were loyal to you, looking you straight in the face as he told you, “I like you. A lot.” He said it calmly, with a voice like a breeze. He brought a hand to your face and grazed it with the backs of his fingers. “Way more than I should, considering…”

Eren’s voice trailed off in a too-knowing way. He left it up to you to fill in the blank. No, blanks. Considering the only history between you was a two-night stand? Considering you lived three hours away? Or—how could you forget?—was it that you were the younger sister of his best friend?

The correct answer? All of the above.

Eren had more to say; you were sure of it. There was much—too much—left to be said. Tonight wasn’t the night for it.

You buried into the curve of his arm. Nose pressed against his neck, you breathed in the smell of his day, the salt on his skin from fucking. You lazed a hand on his chest. He was warm, live beneath your palm, his heartbeat like the patter of a tiny drum.

You took the bait then, carelessly pitching him, “So, how’s this going to work?”

Eren heard the smile in your voice. His fingers found your chin, angling your face toward him. On it was that coy smile of yours, the one he remembered from that night. He kissed it, soft-lipped, as chaste as a mere taste.

“We’ll figure it out.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 8 months

Text

I bet Miguel can cook REALLY well.

Like CRAZY WELL.

Being a dad he did have to come up with something to eat for dinner every night

And with Gabriella being a bit picky, sometimes he had to get creative

And some of his favorite memories are the conversations he and Gabbie had while dinner was on the stove

But even now, he loves it. Miguel finds he act of cooking so relaxing. He likes the peace and the order of it

And even if he comes in really really late from HQ - he'll still try and cook something

Fighting sleep while cooking a quesadilla on the stove

He's a Sazon loyalist SORRY ADOBO STANS

There's always tortillas, sour cream and salsa verde in his fridge - freshly made

(if you got those you can figure something out)

And he grows his own cilantro and basil on the window sill

And he'll never use powdered garlic, only fresh

Yes he can eat garlic - yes people on campus ask him that a lot

(he's hot ACTUALLY a vampire)

His seafood is TO DIE FOR

Miguel can make amazing lobster tail, or crab legs (with Old Bay and butter of course)

And his Ceviche is SO GOOD and SO FRESH

Most likely makes everything spicy. It's not even that he 'loves' spicy food - He just makes it spicy AF and acts like he doesn't notice

MEANWHILE you're next to him and it hurts to breathe

He and Hobie are bean stans.

Miguel loves them in Chilli con Carne, with rice, refried, you name it

and Hobie goes through those British blue cans of Heinz baked beans like it's nobodies business

They both think beans are underrated

Makes AMAZING MOLE and even better Tamales

But you have to BEG him for weeks on end to get him to make Tamales cause he can't be bothered - and he will make you help

He likes Avocado, like in general. On toast, with eggs, guacamole use always a staple

He'll often just eat chips and guacamole the whole day in his office and he'll get pissed if the food court is out of it.

Well look at a corn shell ground beef taco and be like 'You think that's a taco? Is that what you honestly believe?'

Loves cooking with other people - in fact Miguel actually just likes working with people in general. That's why Lyla has a personality.

He's good at guiding others during cooking and teaching them things and not bossing them around

OBSESSED LIKE CONCERNINGLY SO

With mango and Tajin

He'll put Tajin seasoning on ANYTHING - the first time Jess saw him put it on watermelon she was like 'what for????'

But he loves fruit in general, watermelon, lychee, guava. A lot of them are grown fresh in the Society gardens

Strawberries are a favorite of his. Gabriella loved strawberries on pancakes

He pronounces lychee - Leechee (not Lie-chee)

He's the fucking PRO at protein shakes and milkshakes

The man needs workout fuel and whey powder and kale and potassium and-

He's in the kitchen 5am getting ready for the gym

Making a shit ton of peanut butter strawberry banana and oats protein smoothie with coconut milk and honey to sweeten

Because he does have a sweet tooth.

Jolly Ranchers are an oral fixation

You can hear him sucking on one, the quiet clacking of it.

Or see him press it into his cheek, lost in thought

But baking and sweets are his secret love

He just doesn't have anyone to test it on anymore - so he doesn't

His flan is the best, and it was one of Gabbie's show faves

He eats parfaits pretty often, and makes them a lot for Jess (and she teases it for it)

Miguel LOVES tres leches cake, as sweet as possible. And fancy stuff like creme brulee

Don't tell anyone but he actually really likes cheesecake he acts like it's a secret

With him cooking get ready for the most sugariest breakfast ever. It's a dad thing.

Whipped cream, fruits, syrup, chocolate chips, you name it.

Sure Miguel shouldn't have been giving Gabriella THAT much sugar THAT early - but with you it's fine so enjoy the stomach ache in two hours

Another dad thing:

COOK OUT FOOD.

Him and Peter get INTENSE.

Miguel swears by charcoal grills, Peter likes propane and gas

Miguel is the tio with the best Hot dogs and relish that HITS

Peter is the burger dad who spends an insane amount of money on Angus beef

Miguel judges your hot dog toppings but says nothing

His ELOTE???? EUPHORIC

Like,,, it'll bring you to tears it's so good - I don't know how he does it

And when it comes to cooking he's ALWAYS willing to learn

He'd rather invite you over and cook you something than going out to eat

He'll learn something you like or where you're from and make something from there

Even better if you can teach him how to make something - the two of you can make it together

But his favorite part by far is setting it down at the table, trying not to seem like he's watching your reaction

And seeing your face light up at the first bite

Or even better -

Seeing you collapse into bed with a food coma

Miguel with cooking and food as a love language

#yes please #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #across the spiderverse #Miguel Ohara #Miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #Miguel O'hara x reader #Miguel Ohara x reader #Miguel x you #gabriella o’hara

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iliketangerines · 2 months

Note

The Raiden picnic and Reiko's day off pieces were amazing (I don't even like Reiko and still found that hot af), absolutely loving the trend of overworked MK men getting to *relax* thanks to the reader. If you're not sick of doing that kind of thing, could you write something in that vein for Smoke? Like maybe he's been overworking himself helping build the Shirai Ryu and needs to *unwind*... stay winning queen

unwinding with you

a/n: don't you worry, i could never get tired of writing these types of fics.

pairing: smoke x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), finger fucking, nipple play

Tomas hit the dummy with his karambit, slicing the head clean off of it, but he was still feeling irritable and tired

he had been so busy with helping build the Shirai Ryu, and deflecting the attacks of the Lin Kuei had weighed on his mind and body

he was so tired, and he needed a break

perhaps a trip to the hot springs was in order

Tomas sighs and goes back to his sleeping quarters, smiling at the neatly made bed and folded pajamas on top

you made sure to make the transition to the Shirai Ryu as easy as possible for him, taking care of the basic chores and bringing him food during his trainings

he changes into a simple robe and heads over to the springs, and to his delight, he finds you there

he folds his robe neatly next to yours and slides into the water next to you and settles himself in between your legs, pressing you against the wall

you smile and run your fingers through his hair, murmuring a quiet greeting

Tomas smiles and holds you close to him, a tightness to his chest loosening as he feels your hot body against him

the both of you just float there in the pool, letting the spring water heat and relax your muscles and letting a comfortable silence envelope the two of you

Tomas ducks his head down, kissing you sweetly on your lips, and you hum into his mouth, draping your arms over his shoulders and around his neck

he deepens the kiss, desperate to taste you, to have you in his arms again

his training had not only left him tired and sprung but also had left the both of you neglected and without each other, and he needed to feel you right now

his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, and he grinds his half-hard cock into your pussy

you groan into his mouth, and your hand moves up to tug lightly at the back of his hair

he just grinds into you slowly and moves one of his hands down to tease and pinch your nipples, relishing in the way you whimper into his mouth

finally, you throw your head back in pleasure, a needy whine escaping your throat, and Tomas moves down in the water, pressing kisses down your jaw and your neck

he slightly lifts you out of the water so that your chest comes out, and he watches as the water droplets trail down your chest and back into the springs

he latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and nipping at the nub and losing himself in your small whines and moans

your hands tug on his hair, and he moans into your chest, delighted in the small whimpers you let out

your back arches off the wall, and Tomas uses one hand to squeeze and knead at your breast while his other hand holds onto your waist tightly enough to leave bruises

he loses himself in your noises, and when your hips rut against him in desperation, he detaches from your nipple and grinds his cock into your pussy

you moan, begging for him to please fuck you

he kisses your neck, telling you not yet, and trails one of his hands down to rub at your clit

you whine at the stimulation, and he watches as your eyes glaze over and your lips part slightly

he continues to rub your clit in slow circles, watching as you become a needy mess in his hands, and he finally slides in one of his fingers

you moan, grinding your hips into his fingers, and he slides in another one and fucks you on his fingers

you grip onto him tightly, eyes squeezing shut as he curls his fingers into that sweet spot of yours, and you whine a bit at the stretch

Tomas presses his thumb into your clit and rubs it as he fucks you on his fingers, and he watches through lidded eyes as you fall apart at his ministrations

your pussy clenches down on his fingers as you come on him, and your moans are music to Tomas’s ears and make his head feel dizzy

he kisses you again, slipping his fingers from your needy cunt, and he grinds his cock against you

he slides himself into you, and you whine at the stretch, hips jerking in pain as Tomas wipes away your tears with his hand

he thrusts into you slowly, but your whimpers soon dissolve into pleas for him to go faster as you wrap your legs around his hips

he can’t deny you and starts fucking into you, latching onto your neck as your head falls backward

the water around you sloshes and spills out of the hot springs, but neither of you can care as Tomas fucks you with every bit of his energy

he pours his frustration and tiredness into fucking into you, abusing your pussy as his cock bullies that sweet spot inside of you and causing you to let out cries of pleasure

your nails scratch at Tomas’s back, and he groans at the feeling of your fingernails leaving red marks on him

he hopes they last as he holds onto your waist even tighter

he can feel your pussy tightening around his, and your legs are trying to draw him even deeper into your needy pussy as you grow closer to the edge

Tomas leans back to admire the dark hickeys on your neck and reaches his hand down in between your bodies to press his thumb into your sensitive clit

you whine and arch your back, pussy clamping down on his dick as you cream all over his cock

he groans at the feeling and buries himself inside of you and cums deep inside of you

the both of you stay like that, his cock buried inside of your pussy, as Tomas peppers kisses all over your face

eventually he pulls out and thankfully the hot springs clean and wash away any mess you’ve left

he pulls you out of the hot springs and hands you a towel to wrap around your body, and he intertwines his hand with yours as the both of you walk back to your shared room

the both of you fall onto the bed, burying yourselves underneath the sheets and holding each other close

he listens to your breathing even out, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep as well, thankful he has you in his life

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forthevillains · 2 months

Note

Okokok this is gonna sound weird, BUT, pretty please hear me out 😘

So imagine being Albert Wesker's "childhood friend" Like when he was a teen he'd sneak out to spend time with you every so often if he had a bit of free time in his busy af schedule. Idk what to do about this idea from there. I just think it's kinda fun. Maybe he's secretly a yandere lol. No idea.

That’s such a good idea!

The fact that Wesker would have someone to talk to without Spencer knowing at all. Like he’d be so excited to actually have a friend he’d risk his everything only to get to see you. As smart as he is, it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to create a plan, but making it work with all the people around him would be much worse.

Alex surely caught him at least once, questioning his intentions, curious on why in the hell would her brother go out during such a time while they have so much to do. Wesker was tense the whole time they were talking, he felt stupid, it all looked and sounded much better in his head, but when he said "I found a friend.” - he cringed at himself. No matter this reaction though, as much as Alex used to tease the hell out of him and even make fun of him, she was still his sister and he was closest to the family she’s lost years ago. Something about Albert being able to make connections with people after all that’s been done to him is still on her mind and so she lets him go, having his back whenever Spencer asked of his whereabouts.

Wesker would sneak out more and more often, the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be with you. It became something he couldn’t live without, seeing you smile at him every now and then, interested in him. If you asked about his parents he would go quiet, so you made a mental note of not asking about his personal life again. You became the talker and did he love listening to you. He got to know the smallest of things, everything about your own family… He made sure to remember every detail about you, especially the type of places you liked so that he could take you there when you guys would get older. It was the first time for him having a friend like this so he cared for you like for no other.

I can imagine Wesker getting really fixated though, after some time, he wouldn’t know whether its love or obsession he’s feeling, but deep in his guts he’s aware that it’s no good, not for him, not for you. He’s destined for big things, he has so many lives on his hands. He’s nothing like any other teenager, he has an important duty (and trust that sometimes he hates it very much). Though you always make him feel like a normal teenager, like a normal human being… And that’s special to him, by treating him like a decent human - you’re making him feel special.

And even when he loved to spend his time with you, everything good in his life apparently had to come to an end. You left, because your parents insisted on moving away and that was when you and Albert got separated. It hurt, both you and him, but in his case it was hard to move on. So hard he just couldn’t do it. He’d feel sad, always thinking of the times spent with you, away from all his problems and now it was all gone. While you were quick to find new friends, he became so lonely that not even William or Alex made him feel better.

You haven’t come back in years, in almost two decades. And Wesker was still thinking of you sometimes, even though he was somewhere completely else. He changed physically and mentally that’s for sure, now that he was captain of S.T.A.R.S. with even more responsibilities than before. He became cold, stern and hardworking man with clear goals in his mind. He didn’t include you in his plans anymore, even though he wondered where you were a lot, he wondered if you got married and had kids, he wondered if you thought about him the same way he thought about you. Obsession it was indeed.

One day however, you ran into him, on an accident. You didn’t see it coming as you were texting your co-worker of an important matter when you found yourself basically walking into his muscular form, immediately dropping your phone and if it wasn’t from him - you’d be lying on the ground right next to it.

"I’m sorry-“ you were ready to leave, but he stopped you before you could go any further. You were familiar, everything about you felt that way and when you looked up at him, all confused, he recognized those eyes. It was as if the time stopped for him, finally seeing the woman he liked when they were young, someone who overlooked all his flaws and made him smile almost each time they met.

"What is it?” You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in curiosity and only then has he realized that he’s been staring at you through his shades and not saying anything.

"Y/N…” he only muttered your name, completely taken aback by the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing you now. "It’s been so long.”

You don’t get what he means at first, but when he takes the sunglasses off to get a proper look at you. "Al-“ before you finished saying his name he pulled you in for a hug, wanting nothing more than to feel that you’re real. He only used to hug you when you initiated it, but now it was his turn, he felt as if it wasn’t real at all, that it was too good to be.

No matter the shock, you hugged him back after a while, wrapping your hands around him, taking a note of how much bigger he got over the years. He’s grown to be a handsome man to say the least.

"What are you doing here?” You asked when you pulled away, giving him a small smile.

"Going to work.” He made it up. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he’s learned that you’re around. He’s not gonna make the same mistake of letting you go now that he has more control over his own life. It might feel crazy to some, but he wanted to keep an eye on you, getting to know your habits, where you worked, where you lived and he wouldn’t wait for you to tell him yourself, it’s already been too much time without you. He wanted to make up for it now.

"Oh alright! Sorry, I must be wasting your time,” you apologized.

Wesker shook his head though. "Of course you’re not.” He was so gentle talking to you that if someone has heard him they probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

"Well in that case, we should catch up with each other. Are you free this evening? I’ve got so much to tell you!” There you were, the girl he used to know, immediately showing him your interest even though you haven’t seen him in decades. He couldn’t even say no to you, immediately cancelling whatever plans he’s had to make sure he’s indeed free in the evening. This time you’re not getting away from him, he’s going to make you his at some point. He’s been stupid enough to let you go once, he’s not gonna do it again;)

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #oneshot #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you

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dylan-hart · 1 year

Text

⸻ these words that bring me to you

summary: You were dreading the day you would meet your soulmates, their words forever printed harshly down your forearm. Meanwhile, Enid and Wednesday can only think about finding their third, even if the two matching words on their wrists were odd. Besides, what could possibly happen that makes their soulmate’s first words to them be “Well, fuck”?

pairing: Enid Sinclair x Fem!Reader x Wednesday Addams, poly

warning(s): cursing, mentions of child neglect, Thornhill being creepy af (nothing drastic), bullying

word count: 2.4k

You were never normal. That’s a fact that you knew well. Ever since your odd birth and the years leading up to your sixteenth birthday, you were deemed abnormal. Weird, even. You were the quiet kid that sat in the back of the classroom, headphones blasting music to drown out the teacher’s rambling, and extremely antisocial — many went as far to believe that you were allergic to people.

But you were okay with that fact.

Until the day a boy decided that you were the perfect target to jump and scare in the hallway. You barely remembered what happened that day, only that your vision tunneled when hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, his voice yelling loudly in your ears, and the sound of his friends laughing loudly in the distance had grated your nerves, until you felt something surge from your chest, into your veins and push out from your fingertips.

The boy went flying across the hallway, cracking his head on the floor.

Your life was never the same again.

The ability to move objects — or people — without even touching them, with only the thought of pure instinct or want, had flipped your life upside down. Expelled from your old school, rumors of being a witch that sent you spiraling, and the reveal of your newfound ability left your parents scared of you. Your father became angry, angrier than normal, and his yelling became more constant, screaming matches leaving both of your throats raw as your mother watched on blankly, not once saying a single word.

They were scared of you, scared of what you could do.

That’s why you found yourself being shipped off across the states to a new school, one that could hopefully fix you or keep you contained. A school of fellow freaks and outcasts much like yourself.

Nevermore.

You settled in quickly, quietly, not bothering to talk to your roommate — what was her name? Yoko? you mused — and kept up the same appearance as your last school: curled in on yourself, picking the chair furthest in the back, and keeping your headphones over your ears at all times, zoning in and out — you thanked the way you could easily pick up subjects, able to keep your grades high enough the school wouldn’t even think of contacting your parents. You didn’t make any friends — you didn’t want them, didn’t need them — and you didn’t speak during class, choosing to doodle away absently in your notebook.

And, when night came and your roommate was snoring away in her bed, you would trace the lines down your forearm, hoping that you never met your soulmates, hoping you would never see them or come into contact with them.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!”

“Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You sighed at the thought and rubbed at your eyes, fingers gripping your forearm. You had evidently messed up with one of your soulmates with their words were anything to go by while the other one was openly threatening you.

So, you wished you would never meet them, never have the chance to ruin such a beautiful bond with your freakishness.

Unfortunately, the world was never kind to you and you ended up meeting them at the end of the week.

“Miss (L/n), can you please stay after class?”

You paused and clenched your jaw, ducking your head down, the grip on your notebook tightening drastically. You watched from the corner of your eye as everyone filed out quickly, the last being a blonde talking loudly and animatedly to a girl with dark hair and her face blank, though her eyes were fond as she stared at her companion.

You sighed and watched the door close before you glanced up, shouldering your backpack, letting your headphones dangle around your neck. You fidgeted as Miss Thornhill smiled at you, something strange racing down your spine at the sight.

“You wished to speak with me?” you prompted when she continued to only smile at you.

“Ah, yes,” Miss Thornhill said, shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to ask how you’re settling into Nevermore. Have the students been treating you good?”

You shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine,” you answered.

“I see that you don’t really talk to anyone, though.” Miss Thornhill frowned, concern too obvious to be real on her face. “I know that things were rough in your last school.” You felt something like ice rush through your veins at the thought. “If you ever want to talk, about anything — your old school, your life, your parents…your powers…”

You shivered at the way she said the last part, something manic in her eyes behind that calm facade, something dangerous.

“I’m okay,” you forced out, throat closing up. “But I’ll make sure to take you up on your offer if it ever becomes too much.”

Miss Thornhill smiled and set a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. You forced yourself to stay completely still, bile lurching up the back of your throat and stomach churning. “Take care of yourself, Miss (L/n). I’m here if you need to talk.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Miss Thornhill,” you managed to choke out. She finally let go of your shoulder.

You turned and headed for the door, keeping your pace even enough that she didn’t think you were running away. You finally stepped out of her classroom and waited until the door closed before you leaned heavily against the wall, forcing down your power as it thrashed restlessly in your veins, panic rearing up that had you taking deep breaths to calm it.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You glanced up and saw a boy with long hair staring at you in concern. “I’m fine,” you brushed off harshly and pushed yourself from the wall, marching away.

“Well, okay then,” you heard him mutter but you ignored it.

You practically stormed towards your dorm room, classes be damned, but, when you turned around the corner, you smacked into something hard. You grunted and fell, hearing a crash in front of you. You blinked your eyes open when you realized they were closed and glanced up, finding the pair from before standing there, a binder and folder on the floor, pages a mess on the ground.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!” the blonde groaned out, glancing towards you.

You froze, your breath rolling from your lungs. No way. There’s no way this is happening to you—

The dark haired girl glowered at you, cold fury in her eyes. “Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You choked on air, fingers trembling as you stared up at them, eyes wide and panic resurfacing.

“Hey, are you okay?” the blonde asked tentatively after a moment, brows furrowing the longer you simply stared up at them.

The dark haired girl scoffed under her breath, crossing her arms, and scowled down at you, looking moments away from committing murder.

You blinked. And then blinked again. You chuckled humorlessly. “Well, fuck.”

It happened in an instant.

They both froze. The blonde’s eyes went wide in disbelief, jaw dropping, papers forgotten. The dark haired girl zeroed in on you intensely, straightening up in her spot. They stared at you in a new light, shock coloring their faces — though the dark haired girl less so than the blonde.

You glanced between them and decided then and there to leave the situation completely. You shoved yourself up from the ground quickly and twisted on your heel, rushing away from them, from your soulmates despite their warnings for you to come back.

You never did look back.

——

Your schedule changed after that. You would make sure to arrive to class a second before the bell to avoid your soulmates but you were also always the first to leave, escaping them even as they tried to catch you. Yoko — your roommate, you were right about her name — would stare at you weirdly every time you came back to your dorm before she brought up the subject because apparently, your luck would have it that she was one of your soulmate’s best friends because of course she was.

You learned their names: Enid Sinclair, the school’s social butterfly and social media sweetheart and Wednesday Addams, Nevermore’s morbid outcast and possible serial killer.

You were annoyed as you found yourself listening to Yoko tell stories about Enid and Wednesday, found yourself hating it that you craved to know more about them, to know their quirks and what they liked and disliked, what they were like.

You hated it but you couldn’t stop when Yoko offered to talk to you about them.

“They’re looking for you, you know,” Yoko mentioned one night.

You grimaced and glanced away from her.

“You want to know about them?” Yoko continued. “Out of everything I told you about them, the first and main thing you should know is that they never give up, that they always find a way to get what they want. Every. Single. Time.”

You found yourself wishing you had taken Yoko’s warning to heart when, one night when your roommate had decided to sleep in her soulmate, Bianca’s, dorm, you heard harsh knocking coming from your door. You grunted and scowled at the door before pushing yourself up from your bed and shuffling towards it, yanking the door open with a glower.

And there they stood, side by side — one smiling shyly and the other staring back at you stonily.

You tensed up at the sight, frozen in place.

“Can we come in?” Enid asked hesitantly.

You swallowed hard before finding yourself nodding, stepping aside. They both walked in and you shut the door behind them, fidgeting with your fingers and refusing to look at either of them.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Wednesday deadpanned.

You winced.

“Wednesday,” Enid hissed under her breath at her soulmate.

But Wednesday ignored her.

“Why?”

You stared down at your feet, not saying a word.

“Is…” Enid started quietly. “Is it because you don’t want us?” Her voice wobbled dangerously.

Your eyes widened and you snapped your head up to look at them. “What? No!” you denied, shaking your head.

“Then why can you never look at us?” Enid whimpered.

You flinched back and your fingers grabbed where their sentences are printed on your skin, holding on tight enough it hurts. “I just…I’m not—” You groaned loudly, trying to find the words. “I’m not normal.”

Wednesday huffed out a breath. “I have psychic visions occasionally when I come into contact with someone or something. Enid can grow claws and transforms into a werewolf every full moon. None of us are normal, (L/n).”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you snapped. “I’m- I’m different. I’m a freak. A witch. I fuck up everything I touch. Why would I destroy something as precious as a soul bond with my presence?”

Wednesday frowned, brows twitching in what looked like a mixture of concern and rage.

Enid took a step towards you. “You’re not a freak. Who told you that?”

“Who hasn’t told me that?” you countered with a scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself.

“You’re not a freak,” Enid said firmly, a fire in her eyes. “And you won’t fuck up our soul bond. She” — Enid jerked a thumb towards Wednesday, who cocked an eyebrow up at being addressed — “tried to push me away the first time she realized we were soulmates.” Enid grabbed the shorter’s hand despite her scoff. “But everything turned out okay in the end.”

“Trust me, (L/n), if there was a way to harm the soul bond, I would’ve already achieved it,” Wednesday drawled.

You stood still and processed what they were saying. A part of you screamed and yelled not to trust what they were saying, shouting that you didn’t deserve such a precious thing as soulmates, that you would mess it all up and end up alone again. But, there was also a part of you that yearned…that wanted so badly for this to happen; a part that wanted to just say fuck it and accept the bond as it is, to finally open up to someone.

“I…” You took a deep breath and stared at them, at your soulmates, who both stared right back, a certain vulnerability in their eyes. “Okay…okay, we can try this soulmate thing.”

Enid squealed and darted forward before pausing, arms outstretched. “Wait, am I allowed to give you a hug?”

You made the mistake of glancing into her doe eyes and found yourself nodding. She grinned and practically barreled into you, strong arms wrapping you up tightly, pulling you close to her. You tensed up at the feeling before slowly relaxing into the hug, tentatively wrapping your arms back around her. It felt like you had hugged for eternity before a dry voice spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Wednesday said. “It makes me want to vomit.”

Enid laughed loudly and pulled away, nudging you. “That means that she loves us.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. You glanced over at Wednesday and hesitantly let your fingers brush against hers. She glanced down at your hand before wrapping her pinkie around yours. You smiled a small smile at her and watched her lips twitch slightly in response.

“Aw,” Enid cooed. “And you talk about us being adorable.” She leapt forward and grabbed your other hand, ignoring Wednesday giving her a warning glance for calling her adorable.

You three basked in the comfortable silence, warm pulsing between your connected hands and you let your eyes slip shut at the feeling, the bond pulsing happily between the three of you.

“I want names.”

“What?” you asked, blinking your eyes back open and turning towards Wednesday, who stared at you.

“I want the names of who made you think about yourself the way that you do,” Wednesday clarified.

“Why?”

“So they can be disposed of,” Wednesday answered unblinkingly.

You blanched. “It was mainly my parents.”

“That can be arranged.”

Enid’s eyes flashed. “Wednesday, what have we talked about murder?”

“That it’s allowed if one of our soulmates are suffering because of it,” Wednesday replied.

“What? No, we didn’t — Wednesday, put down the knife we are not going to go kill (Y/n)’s parents—”

You cracked a smile at their bickering.

Yeah, maybe the soul bond wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

1K notes · View notes

metal-mouse · 11 months

Text

I Feel Better With You

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x gn!MC

themes: Smut. Fluff. Ominis is stressed af and you comfort him. Insominis. kinda subinis.

warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. m!receiving oral sex. everyone is aged up.

summary: 4.5k words. Ominis Gaunt has had an awful day, and he can't get to sleep. Instead of driving Sebastian mad with his anxious energy, he gets up and wanders wherever his restless feet will take him. What he doesn't expect is to run into you.

note: Tried to leave reader's everything ambiguous. I proofread this half of one time, sort of. i also finished it at 3:30 am lol oopsies. This started out with completely pure intentions, but i am a wee creature of debauchery and added a little sprinkle of spice. I can apparently only perceive Ominis if he's in the ROR, next time we can take him somewhere nice I promise.

Ominis lay on his back with his eyes closed despite his annoyingly alert mind. The events of the day just would not leave him alone - from his abysmal attempt at brewing a befuddlement draught, to accidentally changing your hair colour to what Sebastian had called ‘troll bogey green’ in transfiguration, to even just how he spoke to others during dinner... He let out a sigh, his hands coming up to run through his bed-mussed hair. He rolled over for what felt like the millionth time, unable to find a comfortable position. He let out another annoyed sigh.

“Sigh again and I’m going to smother you with a pillow.” Sebastian’s annoyed half-asleep voice came from the other side of their shared dormitory. Ominis made sure to sigh loudly one more time, causing Sebastian to throw a pillow across the room at him, before getting up and snatching his wand from his night table. He shrugged on his housecoat and shoved his feet into his slippers before crossing the room towards the door. One hand held his wand, the other was outstretched until his palm pressed against the smooth wood of the door. He was scowling as he pushed the door open quietly and made his way down to the common room. Just because he was unhappy from his inability to sleep didn’t mean he had to take it out on Sebastian - he could go mope in peace elsewhere.

Ominis Gaunt was not usually one to find himself wandering the halls of the school after dark, but tonight was an exception. He just hoped the fates had some mercy so he didn’t come upon any teachers. He had no plan on where he was to go, he just allowed his wand and his feet to guide him through the halls. He stewed in his thoughts as he walked, his face fixed in a permanent frown. The worries about his day slowly shifted into his constant stresses about getting good enough marks on his N.E.W.Ts that were approaching far too rapidly, and that the safe space he’d found at Hogwarts was no longer going to be his safe space. Once he graduated, he’d be at his family’s disposal. They’d have full access to him, and he didn’t know how to get away from it all. While he knew that he had a place to stay in Feldcroft, he also knew that he couldn’t impose on Anne and Sebastian forever. Eventually, he would have to strike off on his own and that caused a flurry of emotions that he’d never anticipated.

His grip on his wand tightened as his mind lingered on those emotions he was feeling day in and day out. While he was losing the safest place he’d ever lived, he was also going to lose you. Ominis had grown accustomed to spending every day with you since you’d gotten close during the catastrophe that was his fifth year at Hogwarts. The idea that he won’t be able to enjoy breakfast with you every morning, or a butterbeer in Hogsmeade, or even just a quiet study session broken up by your quick quips and amusing stories, made his throat knot painfully. And now, he’d made an ass of himself turning your hair bogey green. He should be spending every second he could with you making good memories, not defacing your appearance. Merlin, why hadn’t he partnered with Sebastian instead–

“Ominis?” A voice from the other end of the hallway made him nearly jump out of his skin. With one hand over his thundering heart, he scowled in the direction of your quiet laugh.

“That, was not very kind of you.” Ominis said sharply, before cringing at the memory of today’s transfiguration class. At that moment he almost wished it was Professor Weasley standing before him, and not you.

“You’re not still thinking about my hair, are you?” You asked. He listened to you coming towards him, his heart still thudding violently. A deep burn of shame and embarrassment settled in his stomach, and Ominis greatly regretted ever leaving the sanctuary of his bed; even if Sebastian would have smothered him.

“I am terribly sorry about that.” Ominis said, feeling as though his apology was rather lame.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Ominis. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Professor Weasley had me back to normal in a matter of minutes.” The kindness in your tone was not lost on Ominis, you meant what you said. He felt a fool as the thought of you not being angry with him calmed his mind quite a bit. He took a moment to assess his surroundings, realizing he’d made his way to the foot of the Astronomy Tower.

“Thank you…” He said.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Your question was simple, but it caused Ominis to swallow nervously. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you that he was too worry-filled to sleep, especially when you were one of his worries. You had been through so much during your time at Hogwarts, he didn’t need to burden you with his trifles.

“I-I… couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d go for a walk.” He said carefully.

“Ominis, we’ve spoken of this before, if you ever need to talk about anything I’m here to listen. I can see you’re unhappy.” You said in that insufferably kind tone, your hand even going as far as to rest on his shoulder. You’d made that gesture hundreds of times since he’d met you, why did this time feel different? Why did your touch make him on edge? He supposed it could be his lack of sleep, or perhaps it was just because you’d caught him lamenting about his future without you.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He questioned. He would be doing the interrogating, if you were skulking around the halls in the dark then you couldn’t be up to any good at all. Your grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly, the smallest indicator that he was right. You were either causing trouble or in trouble. Ominis couldn’t decide which was more likely, or which was more worrying. Before you could answer his question, heeled footsteps clicked against the stone floors heading right for you.

“Damn it. Follow me.” You whispered, your hand sliding from Ominis’ shoulder to grab him by the bicep. He blinked in surprise at your strength as you tugged him towards the stairs. He wasted no time following you all the way to the top, utterly confused. This was a dead end, whatever faculty or prefect that was heading towards you would surely find you. He supposed there were some spots at the top of the tower, under the observation deck or in the astronomy classroom… His frown deepened when he heard a door groan open in the hallway, and you unceremoniously shoved him inside. Your hand left his arm, and he paused to adjust to his surroundings.

“Where have you brought me?” He asked, curiosity cutting through his irritance. The room was filled with the most curious noises, and he could feel every pulse his wand made detecting what was in the space surrounding him. He could hear cauldrons bubbling to his left, the sound of papers flapping like wings in the air above him. Water trickled deeper in the room, and Ominis swore he could almost hear the distant crashing of waves.

“This is the Room of Requirement,” You said smoothly, “And, if you must know, I am out of bed because I was here. One of the Unicorns was foaling, and I wanted to be here in case she needed help.” Your explanation for being awake so late only gave Ominis more questions. The way you had said one of the unicorns indicated that there were several, here, in the walls of the astronomy tower. That was outrageous, even on magical standards.

“What?!”

“Er… right, I suppose a tour is in order…” You mumbled sheepishly. Ominis was stunned into silence as you guided him around the room, showing him almost every corner of the magical room. He’d heard rumours of the room of requirement before, but he had never been able to find the entrance. It deeply impressed him that you had made such a detailed place, it truly had everything a person would ever need. He realized at that moment he was very much intruding into your personal space. A hideaway you had crafted that was entirely personalized to you and your needs. It was almost as though he was in your head, every word you spoke and every telltale pulse of his wand gave him a better idea of his surroundings.

“You mentioned unicorns?” Ominis asked, his head tilting expectantly. You chuckled, your arm hooking with his. He could feel the heat of your skin through his housecoat, and his throat felt a little dry. You’d certainly never seen him like this, dishevelled and in his nightclothes. It was utterly indecent of him. He exhaled softly in surprise when the unmistakable breeze of fresh air brushed his skin, and you guided him through a doorway. One moment he was in the comfortable warmth of your Room of Requirement, the next he was clearly standing outdoors. He could hear the chirping of birds, he could smell the flowers and the unmistakable odour of animals. It was like he’d stepped out right into the Care of Magical Creatures classroom.

“Here you have it, Unicorns. Five of them now, with the new foal and all,” You said, coming to a halt suddenly, “And a family of Kneazles, a few Diricawl, Puffskeins… I rescue Magical Beasts from poachers and bring them here to one of my vivariums.” Your voice was close to his ear, your breath lightly tickling against his skin as you spoke softly. Shivers ran down his spine, and his face was heating up from your proximity. In the last year and a half you had gotten taller, and stronger.

“I… don’t know why I expected you to be lying. You’ve never told me anything but the truth.” He admitted.

“When someone suggests they’re keeping unicorns in the astronomy tower, it’s a healthy reaction to be skeptical,” You teased with a laugh that worked its way right under Ominis’ skin. “Do you want to pet them?” You asked him. Ominis nodded, and marvelled at the warm strength in your hand as you took his and held it out. The velvety nose of a unicorn nudged his palm and he found himself smiling. Sleep was the farthest thing from his mind right now, and your presence had subsided that persistent tug of anxiety in his mind.

“I’m happy to be wrong, in this case.” He said, gently working his way to the unicorn’s neck.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” You asked, and Ominis sighed. He knew he could trust you, just as he knew that you would actually listen to him, but something made him hesitate. He was no stranger to feeling bashful when you were around, sometimes your presence was just so… overwhelming. Every kind word you spoke, and every time you laughed, he was reminded of your unconditional support of him during one of the most difficult times in his life. He often thought about the day after Solomon had died, when he’d broken down and cried on your shoulder. Or when you’d been abducted by Rookwood, and done the same to him, exhausted and terrified. You’d broken down and confessed everything to him that day, about your ancient magic and the quest you were on. He’d shown you his weakness, and in return you’d shown him yours.

“I suppose I’ve been rather anxious as of late…” He said cautiously, his hand running strokes down the unicorn’s soft neck, “About… well… my future. Where I’ll go after this year, what I’ll do. I-I’m worried about my family. If they bother to even try and reach out to me, I fear they won’t be… pleasant.” His heart rate quickened as he began to voice his internal thoughts that plagued him. Ominis continued to pet the unicorn who whickered softly, nudging him with its muzzle.

“I’m still listening.” You said, your shoulder brushing his as you stood next to him.

“I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to leave. As eager as I am to never brew a potion for Sharp ever again, I like the familiarity of my days. I like waking up, knowing you’ll be waiting at breakfast. That we’ll go to double charms together every Tuesday, and then work together on our assignments on Wednesday. I… I’ll have to find somewhere to live, I can’t stay with Anne and Sebastian forever. Sebastian already has plans to find a flat in London, and Anne has been courting that man from lower Hogsfield, and I-I-I…” Ominis knew he was rambling. He was floundering over every word that came out of his mouth, but you’d opened the floodgates.

“Ominis.” Your tone was patient and gentle, interrupting his stammered attempt to continue speaking. Just the way you said his name jolted his brain back into forming words.

“I am going to be alone, and I am going to be a disappointment. It doesn’t matter where I go, or what I do, I just know it. And perhaps I deserve that.” He breathed out, a horrible ache in his throat as he admitted the baseline of his worries.

“I don’t believe that for a second, Ominis.” You said, and his brows furrowed as he frowned. His hand stilled on the unicorn’s neck, earning himself an insistent nudge from the magical creature. He resumed his petting of the beast, giving you a chance to explain yourself. When you refused to elaborate, he huffed.

“What do you mean?” He demanded.

“You are going to do wonderful things, Ominis. You will not disappoint any one of us who love you, and the opinions of others are irrelevant. You are intelligent, charismatic, and very hard-working. I have no doubt in my mind you will be successful in whatever it is that you wish to achieve.” Your hand closed around his wrist. It made him feel ridiculous how much comfort your words brought him, yet made his entire body tense up with your touch.

“What if-” You cut him off with a finger over his lips, and he was frowning again.

“What ifs are not productive thoughts. You have told me many times that I am not my past, and the same principle applies to you. We’re finishing school, Ominis, we’ve still got our entire lives ahead of us.” Your hopeful tone carried so much conviction that it made his heart ache.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“I still want breakfast with you every morning too, Ominis. I did promise you we would face it together.” You said. You believed in him, and showed no inclination to abandon him. He thought back two years, when you’d promised to face everything together. He supposed there didn’t need to be a murder to cover up between the two of you this time to still apply. In fact, he rather preferred this scenario instead. Together. He loved the word, especially when it came to you. Ominis had learned of his weakness for you very early into your meeting, and that weakness had rapidly spiralled into what he could only describe as devotion. Your hand slowly released its grip on his wrist, and he turned his hand to lace his fingers with yours. He loved how warm and strong your hands always were, especially as he found himself cold more often than not.

“I’m glad you understand.” Ominis said, giving your hand a little squeeze. His head lifted when he heard the distance chime of a clock, his brows rising in surprise at the late hour. He hadn’t realized how long he must have spent tossing and turning. Class in the morning was going to be torture.

“We should stay here tonight.” You said bashfully, your fingers flexing as though you’d pull your hand from his. He held onto your hand firmly, nodding and hoping you didn’t notice the little shiver that ran down his spine. It wouldn’t do to try and go sneaking back to the Slytherin common room now, especially with the prefects and professors lurking near the astronomy tower. That was at least the excuse Ominis was going to give himself. He followed you from the Vivarium, back into the comfortable atmosphere of the Room of Requirement, and then through the door you’d shown him earlier. You excused yourself to go prepare for bed.

Ominis took his housecoat off doing his best to ignore the knots in his stomach, climbing into the comfortable bed in the room. He tucked his wand away safely on the small table beside the bed, and got under the remarkably soft covers. They were far nicer than the scratchy things he slept with every night in his dormitory. When soft footsteps padded across the floor towards the bed, Ominis’ mouth went dry. He’d slept in a bed with others before, you wouldn’t be any different. The bed impressed slightly as you crawled in on the other side. Ominis rolled to face away from you, his face suddenly burning.

“Well… Good night.” He said a little stiffly, clearing his throat and shifting in his spot to try and get comfortable.

“Good night, Ominis.” You agreed, your voice as tight as his body felt. Silence blanketed the room, and Ominis closed his eyes willing sleep to finally tug at his overactive mind. The familiar feeling of tiredness never came, no matter how long he lay there. Instead, all he could do was lie there and listen to your breathing. It was peaceful enough, he supposed, although this whole situation was far too intimate. You rolled, and Ominis’ face burned when your hand bumped against his back before pulling back quickly with a mumbled apology. He lay there with his heart pounding violently in his chest, silently praying you couldn’t hear it. It seemed like an eternity passed, when he rolled onto his back with a loud sigh. You huffed a laugh next to him.

“You can’t sleep either.” He noted.

“Not with you tossing and turning like that. I’m surprised Sebastian didn’t stun you.” You said. He was not amused in the least.

“He did threaten to smother me with a pillow.”

“That would work.”

“Far too permanently for my taste.” Ominis rolled to face you.

“I’d try something… different.” You were close enough that your breath fanned over his face. The proximity only made the tension in his body build further.

“And what would that be?” He asked. Your warm hand reached up and ran through his hair. He let out an inadvertent groan, his skin prickling with goosebumps at the feeling of it. You slowly and carefully ran your fingers through his hair. The tension in Ominis’ muscles seemed to melt at your touch, his body visibly relaxing. Your deft fingers massaged at his scalp, slowly working your way down to his neck. Another groan slipped from his lips as the pads of your fingers traced over the sensitive skin of his neck and down onto his half-exposed collarbone. Your hands felt glorious on his skin, he leaned into your soft touch. Your fingers traced back upwards, combing through his hair again. Merlin, it felt so good.

“How’s that?” You asked, your fingertips lightly brushing along the outside edge of his ear. The only reasonable response he had was to grab you by your shirt and haul you against his lips for a hungry kiss. It was no small satisfaction to him, the way your fingers knotted in his hair and you pushed in closer. Ominis felt as though his heart was going to burst from the way your lips moved with his, and how your tongue slowly caressed his bottom lip. The small, pleased sound that rumbled in your throat as his hand smoothed over your chest went straight to the already uncomfortable strain in his pants.

He gasped as you shifted forward, gently pushing him onto his back without breaking the kiss as you leaned over him. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, taking advantage of his gasp. Ominis’ hands found your waist, snaking up under your night shirt to paw at your heated skin while his tongue met yours eagerly in long, lazy strokes. Merlin, the way you tasted. It was enough to drive a man mad, how sweet your lips and tongue were. Your fingers were at the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them nimbly as you trailed kisses from his lips to his jaw down onto his neck. He cursed violently when you bit down on the base of his neck and licked a stripe back up his sensitive flesh.

“Filthy little mouth on you.” Your voice was husky at his ear, your teeth lightly closing on his earlobe and your hand on his bare chest roaming down and down over his stomach towards the waistband of his bottoms. Ominis’ head tilted as he searched for your lips again, his hips bucking slightly at the groan you let out when he found them. He knew he’d chase this forever, the shivers you sent down his spine, the aching arousal you caused, the taste of your tongue… Ominis had been devoted to your mind and your heart before, but this was an entirely new beast and he loved it. A fractured moan ripped from his throat as your hand grazed along the length of his cock through his pants, the sudden friction made him absolutely ravenous for your touch. His hands roamed under your shirt, getting acquainted with every inch of your body that he could reach. Your hands, however, had gone annoyingly still.

“Please, do you want… I want…” Ominis could hardly string a sentence together. He could be embarrassed about it later, for now he just needed you to touch him.

“What is it that you want, Ominis?” You asked in a dangerous tone, your hands withdrawing from his body altogether. He was reminded of your power, and the importance you held in this world, and it sent a thrill to his heart that he was here and sharing your bed.

“You. I want you.” He breathed out, his fingers curling into your skin gripping your waist tightly. When you slid a finger along the waistband of his pants, he had to stop his hips from bucking. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as you pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips and withdrew from his grip.

“You have me.” You murmured with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his jaw. He bit down on his bottom lip as you trailed kisses down his exposed chest, down and down to his belly while your hands ran down his sides. When you reached his bellybutton, your fingers hooked into his pants and he raised his hips to assist while you pulled them down. He let out a sigh as he was released from the confines of the tight cotton. Nerves coiled in his belly momentarily as he lay exposed before you, this had passed the untoward phase quite a while ago, and this would certainly change your dynamic forever.

Ominis’ nerves evaporated as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and you let out an appreciative hum. He choked on a moan as your warm, wet tongue swirled around the tip of his length oh so slowly. A soft sound of longing rumbled in your throat, and that sinful tongue of yours ran up the entire underside of his cock before swirling around the head again. One of his hands gripped the sheets beneath him tightly, the other flew to his hand to muffle the moans that wouldn’t stop tumbling from his lips. You pressed a delicate kiss to the tip, before taking it into your mouth. Your tongue teased along the bottom of his tip as you slowly inched towards the base. His cock throbbed at the attention, and he could have sworn he had never been this vocal before. He was leaking already over your tongue, his hips tilted upwards as you took more and more of him. Ominis was in disbelief as your nose bumped against his pelvis and you moaned, creating the most delicious vibrations.

“Please.” He panted out, and you obliged. Your head began to bob to and fro, your hands massaging up and down his thighs. Ominis was sure he’d found utopia, and then your cheeks hollowed and you sucked. He whimpered out your name, his hips bucking as the hand covering his mouth found your hair and took grip. He’s got to be drunk, he’s had to have taken some sort of drug, for this amount of sheer pleasure to be making his toes curl like this. Your warm mouth took all of him, and he was a moaning whimpering mess as his hips rose up off the bed. You were moaning too, as his hips bucked and rolled and he fucked into your mouth to aid in your efforts. Ominis had lost coherent thoughts, the only thing he was capable of thinking of was you and the pressure that was rapidly building at the base of his spine. His hand twined in your hair pushed you down further as he lost all control. You stayed in place dutifully, with your tongue caressing him and the tantalizing sucking motion sending him barrelling towards the edge of an orgasm.

“Oh.” Was the only word he could manage as one of your hands lifted to massage at his tight sack as he fucked your face. Dull nails dug into the sensitive flesh just inside his thigh, and he was gone. His entire body tensed in anticipation as he reached his peak. Pleasure exploded inside of him, his toes curling and his hands gripping tight to your hair and the bedding respectively. Ominis hips rolled into your mouth over and over again as he filled your throat with his seed. You refused to let up on him, sucking him absolutely dry until he was whimpering and twitching beneath you. He was limp on the bed when you finally lifted your head, releasing him. He could hear your heavy breathing, and a ragged little laugh. He was sure he was a sight to behold. Likely a sweaty mess, completely disheveled and a far cry from his usual tidy appearance.

“You taste amazing.” You said, your voice a little hoarse. Ominis didn’t have the energy to respond in full, instead letting out a weak sound of acknowledgement. His mind was completely clouded with thoughts of you, of the lingering grips of the pleasure you’d brought him. Gone were his worries, there wasn’t a hint of anxiety remaining in his mind. You crawled back up beside him, tucking yourself against his chest. He was conscious enough to wrap an arm around you, keeping you close. Utterly spent, Ominis’ eyes closed and he listened to the sound of your breathing until sleep began to finally tug on him. As he gave into that tug of exhaustion, he listened to you whisper words of love to him. He drifted off into a deep sleep, dreaming of all of the ways he’d show you he loved you too.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x gn!reader #ominis gaunt one shot #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis x you #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #nehehe now it's time to let this weaslow fic consume my entire brain #time for reni to sleep oh boy

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