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ikeuverse · 28 days

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I HATE YOU — l.heeseung

PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor, smut WC: 10.7k+

WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).

SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.

NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!

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The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.

As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.

It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.

There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.

He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.

So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.

Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.

War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.

Not this last time.

The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.

You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.

But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.

The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.

That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.

You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?

An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.

“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.

“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.

“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”

As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.

“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.

“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.

The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.

Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.

Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.

“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”

“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.

“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.

Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.

Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.

Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?

“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”

Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.

Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.

And you were more than right.

After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.

“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.

“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.

“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.

“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.

Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.

“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.

“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”

Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.

“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.

Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.

He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.

Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.

The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.

“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”

“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.

“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.

He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.

“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.

“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.

“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.

“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.

Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.

“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”

“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.

“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.

A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.

At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?

“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.

“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.

“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.

You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.

“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”

“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”

“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”

“Yes, you did” he said.

“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.

He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.

“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”

“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.

“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.

As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.

It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.

He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.

“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”

“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.

“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.

“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”

“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.

It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.

As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.

Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.

That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.

At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.

“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”

“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.

Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.

Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.

“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”

Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.

“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”

There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.

A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.

"Y/n" he said.

“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”

I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.

“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.

“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.

“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.

“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.

A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.

“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.

“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.

You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.

“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.

He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.

If she laughed, it was because she agreed.

Does he really have a small dick?

Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.

He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.

Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.

Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.

“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.

Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.

“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”

“I need to talk to you” he said.

“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.

“Heeseung.”

“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.

Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.

He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.

“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.

“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.

“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”

“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.

“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.

You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.

Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.

“On a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”

Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.

“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.

You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.

The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.

When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.

At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.

“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.

“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.

“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.

You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.

“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.

“Yeah” you answered.

“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.

“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.

Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.

Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.

He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.

Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.

“We can—”

“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”

It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.

Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.

Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.

“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.

“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.

“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.

“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.

“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.

As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.

Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.

As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.

“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.

Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.

He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.

Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.

“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.

It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.

Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.

You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.

“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”

You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.

Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.

He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?

With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.

“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.

Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.

It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.

“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.

In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.

Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.

You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.

But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.

To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.

“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”

He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.

“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.

The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.

He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.

Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.

“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.

That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.

For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.

“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.

“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.

But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.

“So you…”

“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.

“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”

“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.

“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”

It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.

“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.

Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.

And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enha smut #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #heeseung hard hours #enha fics #enha fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen imagines #bay writes.

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exopelagic · 10 months

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fuck R <3

#this is the worst #it just feels like. let’s give this guy a bunch of rlly hard work to do #and put him in a situation completely removed from all his normal coping mechanisms. wouldn’t that be fucked up #like I have no desk! I have no space! my room is my brother’s room and I have to work on my bed while he’s playing fucking fortnite #on a call w his friends with the fucking strip led lights in BLUE-WHITE. and he’s sitting right next to me with a massive fucking moniter #and then downstairs my mum is incapable of shutting up for more than 30 seconds and the dogs won’t ever stop #I love my dogs but oh my god they’re not trained. they fucked up so incredibly insanely badly with both of them they barely tried #and now they wonder why they don’t listen to us.#the best!! the absolute best I ever get is when my parents move the shit they dump in my sisters room when she’s not here somewhere #so I can sit on her bed and work on my own #it always fucking kills my back and I really don’t like having to be in there but honestly?#my own room is even more hostile since my brother took over when I went to uni and has been sloooowly changing stuff. it’s his room.#i told them I wasn’t gonna come home for long this year bc I don’t have the time for it and I should’ve stuck to it #I just let my mum guilt me into coming back this time #but also!!! literally every time we’re on the phone!!! she’s like luuuke I can’t wait until you come home how long til you’re home now #when are you coming back how many weeks has it been now are you coming home soon are you looking forward to coming home hurry up now #I really thought I’d be able to manage it this time but I think this is a new record for hitting a breaking point #I’ve only been back for like 30 hours #i cant fucking deal with this but I have no other choice and I have no fucking clue what I’m meant to do now #I’m. going to try work on the easier code. it’ll be fine.#luke.txt

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luveline · 5 months

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Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near.

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk.

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer.

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?”

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?”

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.”

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.”

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?”

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess.

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ.

“Hi Hotch.”

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?”

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.”

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?”

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.”

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks.

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive.

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you.

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip.

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently.

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?”

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?”

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.”

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side.

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself.

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.”

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure.

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago.

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks.

You nod into your rubbing.

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.”

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him.

“Do you need help?”

“Not for the fruit.”

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow.

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.”

“You could be a doctor.”

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.”

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.”

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head.

You stare up at him. “You want to?”

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.”

“My boyfriend might not like it.”

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him.

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.”

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.”

“Why not?”

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.”

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.”

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin.

“Yes?”

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.”

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?”

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.”

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?”

“Why?”

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.”

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin.

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks.

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask.

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.”

“I’d like to go back.”

“Home?”

“For breakfast.”

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.”

“What?” you ask.

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.”

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

Aegon has been in love with reader for years but she got betrothed to Aemond. She finds Aegon drunk at her door and she takes him in. He tells her he loves her and make smut happen please

I've been on a roll with these request this week! Only three days until the start of Season 2 *screaming*

Question: Should I add Cregan Stark to my character list? If yes, please send requests for him <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, drunk!Aegon, unprotected p + v, cheating (on Aemond)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When the news dropped, Aegon was devastated. He had always known his feelings for you ran deep, but hearing that you were to be betrothed to his own brother made him regret not asking for your hand sooner. The thought of losing you to Aemond gnawed at his heart.

In a fit of fury, Aegon stormed into Aemond's chambers, his eyes blazing with anger. ‘’You knew of my feelings for her, how can you do this to me?’’ he spat, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and desperation.

Aemond looked up from his book, his expression calm and composed. ‘’Father wanted to unite our families. I’m only doing my duty,’’ he replied, his tone measured and devoid of emotion.

Aegon’s frustration boiled over. He slammed his fist on the table, making the goblets and plates clatter. ‘’Fuck duty!’’ he shouted. His voice broke as he continued, ‘’I just…I just want her.’’

Aemond sighed, placing his book aside. ‘’I was asked to marry her, not you. You already have the throne.’’

The throne was given to him because he was the first son. Aegon never asked for it, never cared for ruling or showed interest in politics. He would rather spend his life with you and Sunfyre than sit on the Iron Throne.

‘’I would exchange my birthright for her in a heartbeat,’’ he confessed, his voice unwavering.

Later at dinner, Aegon didn’t come down to eat. He couldn't beat the idea of seeing you sitting beside Aemond during a meal. So, he stayed in his chamber, drowning himself with wine. His goblet wasn’t even empty that he would fill it up again.

He drank until the sun went down and his pitcher was almost empty, and fell asleep on his couch with his goblet in hand. It wasn’t surprising considering how much he had drunk.

When Aegon woke a few hours later, the castle was sleeping under the cover of darkness. He stood and found himself stumbling through the corridors. His feet carried him to your door in the guest wing, having been many many times. You always took the same chamber when you visited King’s Landing. Aegon raised his fist to knock, but before he could, the door creaked open.

You expected to find a servant with your tea, but instead found your uncle Aegon. A frown of surprise and concern creased between your eyebrows. ‘’Aegon? What are you doing here?’’

He swayed slightly, leaning heavily against the doorframe with his undershirt untucked from his breeches. His eyes were red, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. ‘’You can’t marry him. Please, don’t marry him,’’ he mumbled, his words slurred from the wine.

You should have walked him back to his chamber or alert the Queen of her son’s state, but instead you stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

Aegon stumbled through the doorway, and you came to his side, helping him sit onto the bed bench. He leaned forwards as you let go of him, resting his forearms on his thighs and his spinning head in his hands.

You watched him with a heavy heart, guilt knotting your stomach. ‘’I’m sorry for the betrothal. I wanted to tell you myself, but our parents sent the ravens before I could.’’

‘’Don’t marry Aemond.’’ Aegon grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him. ‘’Don’t do this to me.’’ He looked up at you, his eyes pleading.

You stayed silent, looking down at him. There were a hundred reasons you should put a stop to this right now. Aegon was drunk. He wasn’t in his right mind. And yet, seeing him like this, vulnerability written all over him, made your heart ache for him.

‘’You’re drunk. This wasn’t a good idea. Let’s get you back to your chamber.’’ You reached for his arm to help him up, but grabbed your wrist. ‘’Aegon…’’ you sighed.

He pulled you closer to him, but you remained standing. Aegon’s voice was barely a whisper, his words more a plea than a demand. ‘’It’s me you should marry, not my brother.’’

You pulled on your wrist, but his grip only tightened. ‘’Aegon, let go. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.’’

He shook his head, his eyes fixated on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. ‘’I know exactly what I’m saying. I…I love you. I always have. And I can’t bear the thought of you marrying him.’’

Your heart was racing in your chest.

Despite the feud between your mothers, you and Aegon had always been close. He was there when you claimed your dragon, took the blame when you got caught stealing lemon cakes in the kitchen, and always invited you to dance at gatherings, even though he hated dancing. He even exchanged letters with you when you moved to Dragonstone, secretly writing back despite his terrible handwriting and his mother's interdiction. You were his favorite person, the only one he felt truly cared for him.

And now, he was sitting in your chamber, confessing his feelings to you out of pain and desperation.

You wanted to scream.

At yourself for not recognizing his underlying feelings. At him for not saying those words sooner. At your mother and grandsire for arranging a betrothal with Aemond. He was closer to you in age, mayhaps it was the reason for their decision? And most of all, at the cruel twist of fate that had kept you blind to what was right in front of you.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Thoughts swirled chaotically in your mind, overwhelming you. You needed time to think, time to process everything.

But time wasn’t in your hands, it was ticking and passing fast, so you crashed your lips on Aegon’s. He brought you down to his lap, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed across your hips and thighs and everything he could get his hands on in a desperate attempt to bring you closer. You could taste the wine on his lips, the bitter alcohol still lingering in his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair as a moan left his throat, igniting the fire between two dragons.

Impatient, Aegon pulled at the laces of your nightgown while you discarded him of his undershirt and threw it on the floor. Your nightgown found the same fate, goosebumps rising across your skin from the cool air or the room.

His hands skimmed along your sides, coming to rest on your hips as he rocked against you, his body betraying his need. The rough fabric of his breeches brushed against your bare cunt, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

Your lips moved from his lips to his jaw, trailing a path of kisses along his jawline and down to his neck. His breath caught in his throat as your lips and teeth found the sensitive spot between his collarbone and throat. Aegon let out a soft moan, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving small imprints that would surely turn into bruises come morning.

His hands continued to roam, exploring every inch of your body that he could reach. He moved his lips down to your chest, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your breasts. You arched your back in response, the feeling of his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.

What you were doing was wrong and breaking many rules, but you couldn’t stop. It felt too good.

Aegon pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours as he found your lips again. His hands fumbled with the ties of his breeches, desperately trying to undo them while keeping the kiss going. A soft groan escaped him as he managed to push them down, freeing himself from the constricting material.

The feeling of his bare skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His body was hot and demanding as he pressed himself closer to you. A gasp left your lips when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, surprised by how warm it felt.

You gripped his shoulder as Aegon pushed himself inside, your walls closing around him in a snug grip. Aegon’s breath hitched from how tight you felt, his eyes closing briefly as he sank deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as your body adjusted to him.

When he started to move, you felt like he was splitting you in half…but in a good way. You clawed at his back, soft little sighs spilling from your lips as Aegon thrusted into you.

Unfortunately, the pleasure didn’t last long. You were so wet and squeezing him too good that after only a few thrusts, Aegon spilled inside you.

In his defense, he was drunk and not entirely in control of his cock.

The sunlight coming through the large window woke you up. You turned away from the window and buried your face into your pillow, trying to fall back asleep, but your arm came into contact with something — someone.

You opened your eyes, the late events of the night surfacing, and saw Aegon lying beside you. He was still fast asleep, his white hair tousled and messy. His face was relaxed, a stark contrast from his drunkenness. For a moment, you just watched him. He looked so peaceful and calm when he slept.

The light streamed over his face, illuminating the sharp planes and angles of his features. You reached out, gently brushing away a strand of hair from his forehead.

He stirred at your touch, but didn’t open his eyes. ‘’What is it, Mother?’’

You chuckled softly, watching as Aegon stirred in his sleep.

He mumbled again, shifting under the covers. His eyes still closed, he reached out blindly and brushed his fingers against your waist. The contact startled him, not expecting to find another body in his bed, and he opened his eyes.

A mixture of embarrassment and confusion flickered across his face, remembering his drunk stumble into your chamber.

‘’I’m sorry for last night,’’ Aegon apologized, his voice strained and hoarse because of how dry his mouth felt. ‘’I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?’’

You decided against mentioning his short sexual performance. ‘’More than usual? No.’’

He laughed, then groaned as his head pounded.

‘’Aegon?’’ you said quietly. He hummed. ‘’Why didn’t you say you have feelings for me?’’

‘’Because I enjoy self-sabotaging my life.’’

You swatted his arm.

‘’I need to speak to my mother,’’ you declared after a moment of silence.

The hour was early, but she should be awake.

You climbed out of bed, your naked body exposed in the bright light of day as you moved around your chamber. There was an ache between your legs, reminiscent of Aegon’s passage inside your intimate part.

‘’I do not wish to go through the same suffering she endured in her first marriage.’’ You grabbed a dress from the wardrobe and dressed yourself. It was more difficult without the help of a handmaid. ‘’And I know exactly how to convince her to call off the betrothal. I broke my vows to Aemond, I let you take my maidenhood. They will have no choice but to let us wed.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios@shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13@cece05@laylasbunbunny@gemofthenight@beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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hedgehog-moss · 5 months

Text

The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.

Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)

I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)

When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.

It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.

Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.

My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.

The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—

—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.

I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)

But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.

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buckyalpine · 11 months

Text

Bucky can’t stand you

Smuttay Smuttay. Imagine Bucky finding you to be the most infuriating person he's ever met in his entire life. He used to strongly believe you should never hit a woman. Being a man from the 40's, he believed that with his entire heart and soul because he was one of the few who hated the way some women were treated by their husbands.

That was until he met you.

God, he was ready to beat your ass.

"Didn't you say you'd never hit a woman" Sam snorted while Bucky's jaw ticked, having complained about you for half an hour straight while you went off the plan completely, taking the mission into your own hands.

"That's not a woman, that's the devil spawn" Bucky said incredulously, watching you make your way to the target with a flirty smirk on your face "How and why is she like this"

"Shut up" you hissed through the coms, your hips swaying as you walked away. "

You pissed him off and you made his cock hard.

You ran your mouth to no end and you made him leak.

You had such an attitude and he'd masturbated d to you more times than he could count.

He hated you.

He hated you so much.

"You're gonna screw this mission up if you keep acting like a desperate whore" Bucky growled as you slinked onto the targets lap, effortlessly pocketing the pen drive from his blazer while skimming your hands all over him. The man was none the wiser, groping your ass, the action making Bucky's blood pressure boil.

You whispered something in his ear before hopping off, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing through the exit of the bar and into the getaway car, signaling to Sam and Bucky that you were successful.

He doesn't breathe a word to you until you were all a the safehouse, glaring at you the entire time while pouring himself a drink.

"Try not to kill each other, I'm going to bed" Sam threw his hands up in defeat, seeing as the both of you would never reach a truce. You shrugged, rolling your eyes at the soldier, making your way to your room instead. Bucky down the dark liquid that burned his throat before following you, his brooding figure brushing your back as you entered your room.

"There a problem Barnes?" You sassed, gasping when he gripped your hair and yanked you back, shoving you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make your breaths lighter, his pupils dilated to 100.

"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growled lowly making your stomach flip, your pulse racing a the scent of his cologne when he stood so close to you.

"Yeah? And whats that" your attitude faltered as he pressed his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face.

"You. Never. Listen. It's infuriating. So tell me. What should I do" It took everything in him not to push you down onto your knees, forcing your into submission for once. "You're a brat" He hissed, eyes growing wide when he could smell your arousal which you tried to hide, your thighs squeezing together giving you away.

"Fuck this" Bucky tossed you onto the bed, pulling out the switch blade he had in his pocket. Your dress was sliced off before you could blink, your lingerie torn off next.

"Bucky, what-

Before you could say anything else, he gripped your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, making you pout with a needy whimper. He gave you a satisfied smirk, running the handle of the knife through your folds, gathering your slick before licking it clean off with a groan.

"M'gonna fuck you and you're gonna take it, then you're gonna thank your Sargent for fucking the brat out of you, understand?"

You nodded, yelping when he smacked your cheek, shaking his head.

"Use your words, kitten"

"Yes, Sargent" You whispered, your heart hammering out of your chest as he started to undress himself, his belt buckle hitting the floor. A new wave of arousal pooled between your legs as he stood naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud. He cocked an eye brow at the way you stared at him, practically drooling as he pumped his length a few times.

He crawled onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, flicking his cock through your folds and slamming into you without warning, making you take all of him at once.

You cried out in pleasure, your arms and legs wrapping around him to ground yourself some how, your cunt fluttering and struggling to accommodate for his girth.

"Buck-Sargent-too-s'too thick" You moaned as he drew his hips back and started to pound into you, snarling with pleasure at the feelings of your nails raking down his back. "SARGENT PLEASE"

"Thats right, beg your Sargent to stop baby, cry when I ruin you with my fat cock" He sat back on his heels, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper angle, your eyes rolling back until they nearly crossed. "Lookit you going all dumb on my cock baby, such a needy little pussy"

You didn't get a chance to respond, squeaking when he manhandled you till your face was pushed against the mattress with your ass in the air. He spanked your ass raw, shoving his cock back in, setting in a brutal pace.

"Always acting so sassy, making my dick so hard with those stupid skimpy outfits of yours. You're a little slut but you're my slut, understand kitten?"

"Y-Yes-yes-yes-so-good don'on god don't stop" You slurred out, as he rammed into your pussy, the headboard denting the wall with each thrust, slamming your hips back against him.

"That's it. Fucking take it, Nast little slut, sitting in any mans lap, now look at you, huh. Look whose cock you're crying over lil mama, tell me whose cock your all soaked for"

"Yours sargent! all for-you" You panted while his sinful fingers moved to rub your clit, his pace growing sloppy, blinding pleasure starting to consume you both.

"OH FUCKKK I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, wailing into the sheets, the vulgar sounds of skin on skin carrying through the room. Bucky moaned, fucking you harder, his head thrown back feeling your pussy suck him in deeper.

"Cum, cum on my dick, c'mon baby, give it to me, thats it lil mama, milk my cock-shit-i'm cumming!" Bucky let out a guttural moan feeling you squeeze and pulse around his cock, stilling his hips as he throbbed ropes of his spend into you. You both collapsed onto the bed, blindly reaching for each other with out saying another word, letting soft kisses and cuddles throughout the night do the rest of the talking.

"Morning Sam-

"You both owe me money for therapy"

"Sam-

"You shut up before I pawn a piece of that arm"

"Sam-

"You went at it like rabbits"

"Sam-

"I think the bed almost broke into my room"

"Sam-

"I'm never calling you Sargent again, you've tainted the word for me"

"Sam-

"My ears have never been so violated"

Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you together. You giggled while Sam gagged in the background again (he 100% approves of you two together but he'll never tell Bucky that).

"Nasty fucks"

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xxkissesforchanniexx · 4 months

Text

𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞

Pairing: Chan x Lee Know little sister!fem!reader (non-idol au) Genre: Fluff + Smut angst kinda >.>(im bad at writing it forgive me...) Word Count: 8.6k (HOLY SHIT THATS THE LONGEST ONE YET) Warnings: mutual pining, mentions of cheating, protective Minho, underage drinking if you pay close attention, fighting >.> <.< DONT DO IT, unprotected sex pullout method >.>, cringe ending as usual. i think thats everything?

A/N: I genuinely started tweaking writing this uh requests are open until like august. this request is old... so... im sorry i only just got to it ;-; I'm also so sorry if the story is >.>... cringe T_T my brain has been like fried eggs lately.

The first time Chan agreed to go to Minho's house, he was in his sophomore year of high school, when Minho had mentioned he had a sister, Chan hadn't thought much of it.

Until Chan saw you; the pretty, sweet (to him at least), smart 8th grader that was Minho's little sister.

You had poked your head into Minho's room, "Bro have you seen my hair rollers?"

Chan looked up at you from his book.

Minho looked at you and made a face. "I don't know where you put that stuff."

"Minho!" You threw the door open and frowned at him. "You borrowed them!"

"WHY WOULD I BORROW THOSE???"

"I DON'T FUCK-" You paused, eyes flicking to Chan.

Minho smiled evilly. "I'm telling mom!"

"MIN!" You shouted, "OH!" You stomped your foot for a moment before huffing. You took long strides to Minho's bedside table and grabbed his wallet.

"Where are you going!?" He shouted as you went back to the door.

"Buy more hair rollers." You said, slamming the door behind you.

Chan looked at his book and cleared his throat trying to disguise his laugh. You were cute, just a little bit.

Minho looked at his friend before his eyes narrowed. "Hey."

Chan looked at him, "Huh?"

"Chan... You're my guy. My best friend." Minho got up from his bed and smiled genuinely at him, "For the sake of our friendship, don't..."

Chan raised a brow. "Don't what?"

Minho made a face. "Chan."

Chan laughed. "Minho. I couldn't. Be for real. She's your sister. I'll be with her and be constantly reminded of you." He shuddered.

"Haha." Minho punched him. "Promise?"

"How old are we?" Chan raised a brow.

Minho looked serious.

Chan sighed. "I promise."

Yet... he couldn't keep that promise. Not while you were so busy being you.

You pulled into your parents' driveway. You had just finished your sophmore year of college, you checked your phone and messaged Minho saying you were home and to open the door.

You waited for a few minutes, scrolling on instagram before checking to see if Minho had read your message. It was still on delivered..

You sighed and called his phone. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. "MINHO!" You made a face and finally decided to check your brother's location.

He was an hour away. At the mall.

You were about to call him again when he called you first.

"Oh, you're home already?" he asked, munching on something.

"Yes." You exhaled. "Why aren't you here to let me in?!"

"HEY HEY HEY!" He said, "Someone is there."

"Who?" You fianlly got out of your car and grabbed your bag from the trunk, dragging it to the front door.

"Chan."

You made a face and rang the doorbell. "Yada yada."

"Hey, respect me. I'm older than you!" Minho huffed.

"Ah hush." You rang the bell again. "Is that weirdo friend of yours even here-"

The door opened and you looked at the man standing there, his hair was unruly and he looked like he just woke up. You looked him up and down for a moment- he looked different, older, more muscular, the tank top wasn't helping much, you could see the outline of his pecs. "Chan?"

"AH I told you he'd open the door-" Minho started but you hung up the phone.

The muscular man crossed his arms. "Do I know you?"

"Uh- I live here?" Your brows furrowed.

"The only women I know live here is Minho's mother and a silly 11th grader I haven't seen in years." Chan sighed, "Minho doesn't take squatters. He already has 3."

"Bang Christopher Chan." Your eyes narrowed. "Did you just call my babies SQUATTERS????"

Chan's mouth fell open. "Y/n-"

"I'm telling Minho!" You pushed into the house and Chan trailed behind you.

"Let me carry that bag for you-"

"No, no, no!" You swatted his hand away. "You think my babies are squatters." You huffed and ran to your elder brother's cat, Soonie, that happened to be looking around the corner.

Chan rolled his eyes and you picked it up and started baby talking to it. "It's a cat-"

"You speak fluent baby to Berry. Don't judge me." You walked with the cat up the stairs to your room.

Chan sighed deeply.

"Chan, bring my bag upstairs thanks." You smiled sweetly and skipped back up the stairs with the cat.

Chan tongued the inside of his mouth a bit annoyed, you hadn't changed one bit. You just looked more mature. More like a woman, the curve of your waist more defined to your hips, you seemed prettier, your- … What are you thinking...

Chan pursed his lips and grabbed your bag, taking it up stairs.

He watched as you entered your room.

"Did Minho touch any of my stuff?" You asked looking around.

"Not that I know of." Chan hummed setting the bag on the bed.

You turned and gasped. "MY GUDETAMA PLUSH IS GONE!"

Chan tilted his head. "Your what?"

You fumed. "MY EGG PLUSHIE!"

Chan's face fell. "The one that was over there-" He pointed to your desk.

Your eyes narrowed. "Bang Christopher Chan. Where is my egg-"

"HERE!" Minho shouted, sliding into your room, holding up a Gudetama plushie.

You looked at your older brother. "Minho. It's not even the same plushie."

Minho opened his mouth then closed it.

"MIN!"

"AHHH JISUNG DROPPED IT IN PAINT!"

"WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING IN MY ROOM??!?!"

"It was Changbin's idea!"

"OHH!! LEE MINHO! GET OUT!" You fumed.

Chan and Minho scurried away before Minho burst out laughing as he got to the bottom of the steps. Chan rolled his eyes and laughed.

"I'll give her the money to replace it later." Minho sighed, "Tryna get some drinks? Jisung is paying."

Chan nodded, grabbing his phone from the table and staring at your cat Dori. The brown, grey striped cat tilted its head at Chan and the man pet it gently. "Tell Y/N I'm sorry yeah?"

The cat purred and Chan smiled before following Minho out.

Chan finished off his alcohol and turned to Hyunjin, "Hyunjinnie."

The long, dark haired man looked at him, "Huh?"

"That egg thing Jisung covered in paint."

"What about it?" Hyunjin asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"What was it called?"

Jisung looked up from his food. "Gudetama?"

"Yeah that." Chan hummed. "Where do I get one that looks like it? Exact replica.."

Hyunjin shrugged. "Google it."

Chan huffed, and started searching.

Minho looked at him, "Why are you wondering?"

Chan pursed his lips. "We did mess it up."

Minho grabbed Chan's phone. "Chan." His face was expression was blank.

"Minho, I'm just trying to replace it." Chan grabbed his phone back and sighed.

Hyunjin gave Minho a look and kept eating.

Minho didn't say anything to Chan until everyone was going home only saying "see ya."

It was over a week later you came home with your friend Sua to hang out and when you opened your bedroom door you smiled at the sight of the a new Gudetama plushie. The CORRECT one.

"Where did that come from?" Sua asked as she sat on your bed, grabbing your Cinnamoroll and hugging it.

"Minho probably got it." You grabbed the egg and admired it except as you brought it to your face and inhaled, past the scent of the store... you smelled the cologne it smelled like... You pulled Gudetama away from your face and stared at it for a long moment.

"What?" Sua asked.

"Nothing..." You murmured.

Sua took the Gudetama from you and inspected it. "It's definitely new.. it smells like the store but..." She smelled it again. "Who's cologne is that?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed it back, hugging it. "Doesn't matter.." But as you thought about the way he'd looked at you when he opened the door, the way his muscles seemed to strain against his shirt as he crossed his arms... You shook your head. So what if he had grown up a little bit. So had Minho's other friends, it didn't matter.

Yet recognizing the faint scent that lingered on the plushie, the faint scent you'd picked up from him as you pushed past him, you hugged the plushie just a little bit tighter.

Chan spun in the spinning chair in the library. He looked up at the ceiling, brain racing with so many thoughts. Had you seen it? Had you liked it?

"Chan." Hyunjin flicked his forehead. "Did I write my part good?"

"Uh huh." Chan said dismissively.

"You seem lost in thought..." Jeongin said, rolling over in his chair. "Something on your mind?"

Someone.. "No, nothing." Chan shrugged.

Jeongin's eyes narrowed, "I think..."

Chan looked at him. "Wha-"

Jeongin grabbed Chan's laptop and ran off with it, "THE SECRETS ARE HERE!" He shouted, "PROTECT ME HYUNG!"

Hyunjin tried his best to hold Chan in his chair but the latter easily sprang away and sprinted after Jeongin.

"INNIE RUN AWAY!" Hyunjin squealed.

As Chan was about to pounce on the younger man, the library assistant, a young woman with dark hair and brown eyes with a small mole on her cheek, cleared her throat. As Chan got a better look he realized the woman was your friend, Sua.

"Please be quiet." She rolled her eyes before walking into the small room and pushing the chairs back into place, she sniffed slightly, as if sick and Hyunjin offered her a tissue which she gratefully accepted before leaving the room.

Chan grabbed his computer from Jeongin and sat back in his spinning chair. "There is no secret."

The younger men looked at each other, "Sure," Hyunjin said, "Totally," Jeongin huffed.

As Sua walked away she smiled to herself and looked back. So that's who got Gudetama...

You were out with Sua at the mall, "Y/N." She smiled, "This would look so good on you." She pushed a very short skirt into your hands.

"Are we going to a strip club??" You stared at your friend in shock. "Min will kill me if I wear this."

She nudged you, "You can't stay so single and innocent forever." Sua's eyebrows bounced comically. "But then again.." She pulled the skirt to herself. "Do you think Seungmin would like me in this?"

You rolled your eyes. "If Seungmin noticed you."

She shoved you. "MEANIE!"

You giggled and kept looking for clothes.

"Ok..." She sighed.

You turned to the jewelry area and left Sua looking at bottoms alone. As you looked at the earrings and necklaces and bracelets, a pair of earrings caught your attention, it was simple, small silver half hoop earrings. You moved down the glass to get a better look and as you rested your hand on the glass display, a hand brushed yours. You looked at the hand for a brief moment before seeing the veiny arm, your stomach flipped.

You looked at the man, he looked at you, brow raised.

"Sorry." You pulled away.

"It was my fault." The man laughed. "I was just looking at those earrings." he pointed to the earrings you had your eyes on.

"Oh-" You smiled slightly, "I was looking at those too."

His eyes widened slightly, "You probably saw them first-"

"No it's fine." You were about to move away.

"It's fine really." the man waved over the store clerk. "How much for these?"

Your brows furrowed. "I-"

"550,000 sir." The clerk said.

The man slid his card across the table and smiled at you. "It's the least I can do, I think I made you uncomfortable."

You opened your mouth then closed it. What was this guy doing..

"I'm Minseok." He put his hand out to shake yours.

You smiled sheepishly. "Y/N, and really you don't have to get me these-"

The store clerk came back with a key and opened the glass display, closing the earrings box and putting it in a bag. The clerk handed the bag to Minseok with his receipt and card.

"I insist."Minseok handed you the bag.

"Y/N, did you find someth-" Sua came over, carrying a lot of bags and looked at you then Minseok and back at you, a devious grin spread across her lips and you wanted to hide.

Minseok wrote something on the back of his receipt before handing it to you. "Call me?" He smiled and walked out of the store.

"WHO WAS THAT FINE GLASS OF WINE????" Sua grabbed you, "What did he give you?" She grabbed the bag and smiled at the earrings, "Oh my, a man of taste! What's his name-"

"SUA!" you grabbed your friend's face. "Stop rambling. He bumped into me."

"And bought you earrings for 550,000 won as an apology?"

You sucked in a breath.

"He was definitely into you." She smiled dreamily. "If only I could find Seungmin in such a way."

You rolled your eyes. "Let's go."

But you had ended up shooting Minseok a text... why not?

Chan came over with the guys to celebrate Minho getting a promotion. "Ah, look at the best dance instructor this city has ever seen." Chan hugged him tightly as he entered the house.

Minho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

"Congrats man." Jisung patted Minho on the back, "Now with the money you're making you can finally pay when we go out to eat."

Minho made a face.

"Stop annoying him," Jeongin smiled. "But really congrats."

Minho smiled, "Come on in guys," He led the men in and to the dining room, "Tada!"

The men smiled at the sight of the barbecue and they all began eating. Chan teased Minho most of the evening until, he heard steps on the stairs. He turned to look at the stairs and his heart skipped a beat.

You were coming down the steps with Sua, dressed up to go out, skirt that showed your perfect legs and a shirt that drew attention to your curves and cleavage.

You came to your older brother and gave him a quick hug, "Congrats Minho."

As you started to pull away he grabbed your hand. "Jacket?" He asked.

You held up your jacket.

"Phone?"

You held up your phone the yellow Gudetama case that Sua had bought you drew Chan's attention momentarily.

"Pepper spray?" Minho tilted his head.

You shook your purse a bit.

He smiled, "Have fun. Don't let a creep touch you."

"Yeah yeah." You followed Sua out.

"Where's she going?" Changbin asked, munching on his beef.

"Party." Minho shrugged.

"Bound to get attention dressed like that," Hyunjin sipped his soda, "Who's party?"

"Some guy from college apparently." Minho shrugged. "Sua's with her so she should be fine."

Chan's eyes narrowed, "Minho, you're letting her go to 'some guy's' party?"

Minho looked at him. "She'll call if something happens, besides she knows not to drink."

Chan sighed, "Alright."

The other men looked at them, but no one said anything.

After the little celebration Chan was driving home, it was almost 1 in the morning, he came to a red light in front of a bar and tapped his thumb on the wheel to the rhythm of the music. He glanced out at the bar and his brows furrowed. There was a girl who looked suspiciously like you, stumbling out.

Chan was about to ignore it when a man came out of the bar after the girl. He sighed, the cars at the cross section slowing down and just as he was about to drive he watched as the girl reached into her bag for something and pulled out a yellow case with lazy egg.

Chan pulled off to the side and got out of his car as the man grabbed your shoulder. You shoved him off in your drunk daze but he was persisting.

And right as he grabbed your wrist Chan grabbed his forearm. "Can't you see she doesn't like you?" Chan's eyes narrowed, "Get out of here before I beat the shit out of you."

The man stared at Chan for a moment. Chan gripped the man's arm tighter.

"Bitch." The man released you roughly and stormed off down the street.

"Chan-" You looked at him, about to speak.

"Get in the car." He said lowly.

You opened your mouth, then closed it as he tilted his had at you daring you to say something back. You walked to the car and he opened the door to let you, closing it a you entered before going to the driver's side and entering.

"Please don't tell Min." You said as he settled.

"Where's Sua?" Chan turned to you.

"She ran off with some guy.." You said quietly.

"Why didn't you leave then?"

"Who are you my dad?"

"Y/N."

You looked at your hands. "I didn't want to."

Chan hook hi head and tarted the car again, before pulling back onto the road, he was about to go back to your house as he scolded you when you suddenly covered your mouth.

Chan sucked in a breath. "Y/N no- Not in my car-" Chan pulled over by a tree and you jumped out of the car and ran to the tree.

He cringed as you vomited and stepped out of the car, carefully taking your hair into his hand and holding it out of the way until you were jut dry heaving.

"You good now?" He asked.

You nodded.

Chan got you back in the car and gave you water.

"Chan..." You said after taking a drink. "Don't tell Minho. Please."

"Ok, ok, I won't." He sighed.

"Don't wanna go home."

"You have to."

"CHANNIE!" You whined.

Chan turned so fast, his head could've spun off his shoulders. He blinked before turning back to the road. Chris. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

"If I go home, Minho will know I'm drunk and he'll tell our parents and I won't be allowed out again." You grabbed his arm. "Chan.."

Chan sucked in a breath. "Just this once."

You smiled and hugged his arm. Chan felt his face getting hot but kept driving back to his place.

Chan had really trusted you when you said you were fine, you vomited again, outside his apartment complex and this time it had gotten on your shirt. So when you had gotten into his apartment he forced you to the bathroom and gave you some of his clothes to wear.

You were lying on Chan's couch, half asleep while he got you food because you wouldn't stop asking.

Your phone rang.

Chan was about to grab it but he froze. What would Minho think...

You grabbed your phone and answered. "Hello... No... I'm at Sua's... Chan? No I haven't heard from him... No I didn't drink... No I didn't bring a guy with me to Sua's... Okay... Tell my babies I love them... Good night Min." You hung up the phone and looked at Chan. "All handled."

Chan turned to face you and his stomach did somersaults. You standing there in his shirt, his sweatpants, looking so...

You tilted your head. "Are you drunk too, Channie?" You hummed.

Chan shook his head. "Haha. Here eat."

You smiled and took the food, going back to the couch, munching. Chan closed himself in the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his hands over his face for a moment before tuning on the tap and splashing his face. "Christopher... It's Y/N." he told himself. "It's just Y/N.."

A knock on the bathroom door made Chan look up. He patted his face dry with the towel on the bar and opened the door.

You stood there, looking at him. "Are you okay?" You asked.

He nodded, "I'm just really tired."

"I'm sorry for bothering you." You muttered, "Thank you.."

Chan felt his heart flutter and he smiled gently. "It's okay. Sleep in my room 'kay? I'll take the couch."

"I can't.." You mumble.

Chan made a face, "Why?"

"I don't have Gudetama.."

Chan opened his mouth then closed it.

"It keeps me safe at night." You looked down and gripped the hem of your his shirt tightly in your hands.

What was Chan supposed to say... What could he say without sounding weird or mean..

"Stay with me?"

Chan broke out of his trance as he heard that. "What?"

"Stay with me.. Because I'm scared.. I won't tell Minho."

What could he have said....

"Alright."

You woke up, head pounding, in the softest bed you've ever been in, as you opened your eyes you winced as the sun entering through soft grey curtains assaulted your already pained brain. You felt a breath against your hair and were about to jump away when the scent hit you... You looked around momentarily, it must be really early.

It wouldn't hurt.. You relaxed against his chest and hugged the arm he had around your waist. He was warm. Infectiously so. You felt warm in more ways than one. You smiled contentedly and closed your eyes again. Minho didn't have to know.

When you woke up again you heard voices, you sat up and slowly got out of Chan's bed. Your head throbbed slightly but you ignored it out of curiosity, you poked your head out the door and listened.

"I'm screwed, Hyunjin..." Chan said softly.

"If you tell Minho I'm sure he won't be that mad." Hyunjin replied.

Mad why? Because Chan helped me?

"Hyunjin." Chan said, more firmly. "I promised."

"Chan, it's completely human to feel like tha-"

"Hyunjin-ah!" Chan said a bit loudly before quieting himself. "It's not that I feel like that, even when I'm not feeling like THAT, I feel like..." Chan sighed deeply.

You backed up into the room. Feel like what... You wondered before grabbing your phone and texting Sua to come pick you up with a change of clothes.

When you got in Sua's car you looked at her.

"Do I have a lot to tell you?" She said giddily.

"I don't want to hear about what you did last night-" You started.

"Not me you dummy! The guy you met at the mall."

You turned to face her completely. "What about him?"

"He followed me on instagram this morning, I think he was seriously into you. He wants you to call him so he can take you out." She raised her brows stupidly.

"I-" you closed your mouth and thought about it for a moment, what harm could there be in going on one date? "I'll give him a call later."

"Atta girl!" Sua squealed before turning on her car and pulling out of Chan's apartment complex, "But guess what?"

"What?" You raised a brow.

"I SAID GUESS!" She wined.

"Ok, ok..." You racked your brain for a moment. "You bought new shoes?"

As Sua came to an intersection she slowed to halt at the red light and smacked your arm. "No."

"OW!" You huffed. "Tell me."

"I got Seungmin's number!"

You blinked. "How?"

She smiled, "Well, as I was going home with that guy yesterday Seungmin happened to be around and saved me-"

"Didn't you ask that guy to go home with you thou-"

"HUSH I'm not done!" She huffed, turning back to the road as the light turned green. "And Seungmin saved me and told me not to go home with strangers and if I get drunk again with no ride, I should call him." She sighed dreamily before her expression snapped to one of confusion. "How did you end up in Chan's apartment?" Her eyes widened, "DID YOU GUYS-"

"NO!" You shrieked. "No, he kept his distance."

"And you slept alone? YOU?!"

You pursed your lips. "When I woke up he was in bed too bu-"

"BUTT NAKED?!"

"SUA! NO! WE WERE CLOTHED!" You felt your face getting hot.

"You were drunk, in a man's house and you didn't do anything?? Not even kiss?"

"No." You slapped your cheeks. "We didn't do anything."

"But.. did you want to?" She glanced at you before looking back at the road.

"No." You rolled your eyes. Then you remembered. How he'd looked at you in his apartment, like he wanted to pounce on you. "Bu-"

"Did he want to do something?" Sua drove into a café's parking lot.

"I..." Your face felt hotter as you remembered how Chan held you. "I don't know..."

That was all Sua needed to ramble about how Chan must be pining over you. And it was for that reason you didn't mention what you'd heard Chan telling Hyunjin that morning.

You'd called Minseok that evening, he insisted that you stay home and get past your hangover and that he could meet you another day. Though it wasn't intentional, you and Minseok spoke almost on the daily, before he asked you if you wanted to go out for lunch. You were about ready to go out when someone knocked on your bedroom door. You opened it and blinked at the sight of Chan.

He was looking at his phone for something. "Minho wanted to know when you'd be back so we could get dri-" He froze as he looked up at you.

"Chan?" You tilted your head slightly.

"Uh.. You look really pretty." He said.

You looked down and smiled slightly.

"Who are you even going to meet up with?"

You opened your mouth then closed it, no one knew about Minseok except Sua and Minho. "A guy."

Chan visibly stiffened. "Who?"

"I'll tell you about him later-" You tried to move past him but he blocked the doorway with his body.

"Where did you get those?" He pointed at your earrings.

My date.. "Sua." You lied.

He nodded. "Okay.."

You moved past him and managed to dodge your brother's inventory check as you skipped to the door. Right as the bell rang.

You opened it and smiled at Minseok. He smiled gently before his gaze flicked behind you.

You looked back at Chan and smiled.

Chan wanted to kill that guy. He didn't like him one bit, not the way he smiled or the way he took your hand to lead you out. Nothing. But more than that, Minseok always always looked at Chan as if he'd won something, as if Chan had lost the battle and the war he didn't even know had started. Two into your relationship and Minseok still had that look for Chan. Two months.

Minho had invited Minseok along with the guys for drinks. The entire night Minseok was giving Chan sideways looks. Until Minho asked, "How did you meet Y/N?"

"Oh," Minseok smiled fondly at his drink. "I bumped into her at the mall and I made her a bit uncomfortable with how awkward of an apology I gave so.. I bought her a pair of earrings and gave her my number. I didn't expect her to call back really... But fate is nice.."

Chan's brows furrowed. "What kind of earrings?"

"Silver ones-" Minseok started.

"Half hoops?" Chan pressed, gripping his bottle.

"Yeah." Minseok said, "Small, silver, half hoops."

Chan leaned back in his chair. You'd lied... You'd lied to him. For Minseok..

"Channie-hyung-" Jeongin reached for him.

Chan pushed back his chair and smiled at Minho, "I'm going to head back early," He waved at the other men and rested his gaze on Minseok for a brief moment.

"You're drunk, let me at least call you a cab-" Minho started.

"I want to walk."

"It's dar-"

"Goodnight guys." Chan turned and left them all at the table in confusion.

Hyunjin shot Seungmin a knowing look and kept drinking.

Chan wandered aimlessly for a while, lost in thought. He eventually found himself at a playground and sat down on a swing. As he swung back and forth, he thought about you and Minseok. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all..

He felt his eyes welling with tears. "What are you even crying about Chris?!" He groaned in frustration and wiped the tears from his eyes.

He cared too much, about you and Minho. He cared too much to see you with someone else. He cared so much that it hurt to care. Even as he took deep breaths to compose himself he couldn't stop the hot salty tears streaming down his cheeks.. But-

"Channie?"

He looked up at the sound of your voice. You stood there, in a sweater that definitely wasn't yours... It was probably Minseok's... and a pair of sweatpants.

"Why are you crying?" You sat in the swing next to him and stared at him.

If only you knew...

"I've just been thinking recently." He muttered.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Chan stared at you for a long moment and then simply leaned over and rested his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

You stared blankly for a moment before relaxing and stroking his dark hair gently.

"Can I ask you something.." He muttered against your skin and you felt a chill go down your spine.

"Anything..." You breathed.

He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "Will you stop me?"

"From doing what?" You stared at him in confusion for a moment before he leaned into you, breath mingling with yours.

"This.." He muttered, plump lips grazing yours before they finally met your own in a gentle kiss. He pulled away for a moment, giving you the opportunity to shout at him, to slap him and ask if he was okay mentally.

But you didn't..

And he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue prodding at your lips for entry. You clutched Chan's shirt as his tongue slid into your mouth, the taste of alcohol still on his lips, but you didn't pull away. Not when he kissed you like that, kissed you like he'd been meaning to for months... years even. You didn't pull away even as you felt the burn of your lungs begging for air. But he pulled awa, his eyes dark, pupils blown, clouding over with something you hadn't seen before.

You sat up in bed and slapped your flushed cheeks. What on earth were you thinking...

Chan noticed you were steering clear of him like the plague. You were going back to school soon so maybe that's why. He saw you when he and Jeongin came over to see Minho but even then you only waved at him at the door and kept about your business. Maybe he had done wrong kissing you like that.

You were leaving again. Bags all packed and ready to go back to your dorm.

"AH!" Changbin hugged ypu tightly. "You're leaving us again! Who will come to Changbin Salon if you go!"

You giggled. "I'll be back in a few months for Christmas guys. Don't worry about me-"

"Y/nnie." Minho sighed, smoothing out her clothes, "Just take care of yourself. Don't get drunk. Don't stay up late. Don't talk to weirdos-"

You hugged your brother and rolled your eyes. "Whatever."

Your parents started bickering with you about taking care of yourself.

You gave Minseok a kiss and he hugged you tightly, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle.

You finally looked at Chan and smiled.

Chan smiled too, eyes widening in shock slightly as you hugged him tightly. He relaxed and hugged you back. "Take care."

You nodded, "Bye!" You got into your car right as Changbin and Minho finished throwing your stuff into the trunk.

They all waved as you pulled out of the driveway, and you were gone again...

Chan stuck around for a bit longer chatting with Minho and your parents before deciding to go home. As Chan made his way to his car he stopped as he heard someone.

"Chan."

Chan turned and stared at Minseok. "Huh?"

"Do yourself a favor," Minseok pulled out his own car keys and unlocked his vehicle. "And stay away from Y/N. 'Kay?"

Chan raised a brow. "Is there a problem with me being around her?"

"A little bird told me, you just want to get your dick wet. So I suggest you find someone else." Minseok shrugged.

He stared at the other man for a long moment. "What if... I just want to take her from you?"

Minseok's eyes went wide.

Chan unlocked his car and got in before Minseok could say anything.

You'd been in school for a couple of months, sure, you called Minseok everyday, it didn't kill the feeling of him being so far away though.

You had gotten back from class and were doing your homework when you got a text from Minseok. You smiled slightly and picked up your phone to look at it. As you read his message you rolled your eyes and called him

He answered almost immediately. "AH! Baby. It feels like I haven't talked to you in forever."

You rolled your eyes and giggled. "We talked this morning."

"Exactly, forever." He joked.

You put the phone on speaker and set it down as you started getting your materials for studying. "When did you get so needy?"

"When did you get so distant?" he countered.

You laughed. "I'll be around soon."

"Take your time with your studies.. I don't want to mess up your brain right now."

You smiled. "It's fine really."

"I'm gonna be really busy soon."

"Oh?" You flipped through your textbook, taking notes. "With what?"

"Work stuff." he said dismissively.

"Don't overwork yourself."

"Says you."

You pursed your lips and sighed. "Minseok."

"AAH! Okay.. I have to go now, sleep early. Make sure you eat. AND DRINK WATER." He said.

"Okay. Good night baby."

"Good night y/nnie."

You hung up and leaned back in your chair thoughtfully. You should visit home soon..

The next following day you called Minseok after class he didn't answer. You shrugged it off and assumed he was busy with work as he said he would be.

You called Jisung and he ranted to you about how Minho was being annoying and how Seungmin was bouncing off the walls about Sua.

You smiled as you thought about how vividly she used to squeal about Seungmin. As you were about to go to sleep, your phone rang and you looked at the contact, smiling at your boyfriends ID before answering.

"Hey love, sorry I didn't answer. I got held up at work." he said.

"It's fine," You rolled onto your back and put the phone on speaker, yawning as you asked, "Anything happen at home?"

"You sound tired." he aid, "And no."

You hummed. "I am tired."

"Sleep. You have classes tomorrow."

"Fuck class. I'd rather stay up listening to you."

"When did you get so needy?" He teased.

You giggled.

As you listened to Minseok rant about work and other things you relaxed and fell asleep even though you said you wouldn't..

You didn't notice it at first, but almost a month later, you realized that Minseok never answered your calls; he always called you back, and always very late. You could try to blame it on his work, but something just didn't sit right with you. But you ignored the feeling. Planning to visit during your break in the fall and catch up with everyone.

What reason did you not have to trust Minseok?

When you called him the day before your trip he didn't answer. Which didn't surprise you at all. But you still felt a small pang as you looked at the box you'd purchased just a week earlier. What was surprising was that he didn't call you back.

Still you got in your car the next morning, and drove all the way back home.

Minho and your parents greeted you with bear hugs and kisses.

You went out with Minho later that day to go eat and after an intense game of rock paper scissors, you had to go to the front and order. As you made your order and Minho's you noticed Chan sitting at a table with a very pretty woman. You finished your orders and approached waving slightly at Chan.

He looked at you and smiled. "You're back in town already? How's school?"

You laughed. "I'm on break. School's fine." You noticed the way the girl stirred her drink with her straw. "Who's this?" You asked.

Chan looked at her then back at you. "Yeojin. She's a friend."

The girl gave you a small smile but you felt a bit tense. As if you were challenging her... "It's nice to meet you." She extended her hand out out you."

"Likewise." You smiled and took her hand gently shaking it before turning back to Chan, "I've gotta go, maybe we'll see each other around?"

He nodded. "It was nice seeing you." As you walked away you noticed how he spoke to Yeojin so passionately, taking her hands in his. Your heart panged. You should be happy... You should be happy he finally got over what he told Hyunjin that day... Yet it annoyed you. It made you so mad you wanted to scream. But you didn't. You ignored the feeling. You had Minseok. What more could you need?

"Have you heard from Minseok?" You asked your brother as he spun in the spinning chair by your desk.

"Not recently why?" He looked at you.

You shrugged, looking at your phone. You checked Minho's location and saw he was still at work. You'd wait for him to get to his apartment then you'd surprise him with your gift and everything would be good. "He's been stressing about work recently... I just wanted to make sure he's alright."

"Go see him then." Minho said, rolling his eyes.

"When he gets back from work." You smiled, looking at the box in your bag.

So almost two hours later, when you checked your phone and saw he was finally home. You took a cab to his apartment and eagerly, pushed the button at the elevator. You jumped a bit before calming yourself. It was just Minseok... your sweet, caring, affectionate, handsome man.

Yet as you got to his floor, as you approached his door something in you twisted. You felt wary for a reason you couldn't explain. Even as you typed the passcode for his lock and it beeped in affirmation, as you opened the door to his dark apartment, something in you still lurched in suspense. Like your body knew what was coming and your heart and mind couldn't accept it. Even as you rounded the corner of the hall and saw an extra pair of shoes by the entrance.

Heels..

You still walked through the living room and kitchen area. Right down to the other hall and to Minseok's bedroom door. Even as you heard them through the crack in the door you opened it.. and the tears that had been welling in your eyes since you walked into the dark apartment finally fell at the sight of Minseok, his dick buried in some other girl.

"Cho Minseok."

He sprang up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as he finally took in your prescene.

You threw the box on the floor and whispered. "You asshole."

"Y/n!" You ran to the elevator and got in just in time to turn and see him running as the elevator closed, bedsheet wrapped around his waist as he called after you.

As the elevator went down your mind and heart finally caught up with the rest of your body and you fell to the cold floor and cried.

The last place Chan expected to see you, was bumbling down the street at night. Drunk.

Yet when he finally convinced you to get in his car he groaned and looked at you. "What on earth are you doing?"

You didn't answer, staring blankly out of the car window.

"I'll call Minseok to come get you-"

"Don't." You said quietly.

"Y/n." He sighed. "Minseok won't judge you for getting drunk, he probably won't tell Minho eithe-"

"Minseok is busy right now!" You snapped.

Chan stared at you. "Busy with what?"

"How is it your business?" You snapped. "You hate Minseok, I get it. but our relationship isn't your business."

"When are you going to stop him from running all over you, Y/N!?" Chan shouted.

You froze."Why do you care... go back to Yeojin."

Chan stared at you. "i have nothing with her..."

You took a few shaky breaths before you buried your face in your hands.

Chan took your hand and squeezed it gently whispering. "What happened?"

You looked at him, his coffee colored eyes so sincere. No judgement or ulterior motives, nothing but patience and empathy.

You leaned against him over the console. "He's with someone else."

"Since when?" He asked, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

"I don't fucking know and I don't give a damn."

He hummed. "You wanna go home?"

"I don't want an earful from Minho." You said, closing your eyes.

Chan pulled away and started the car. The alcohol finally claimed your consciousness. You woke up a while later on Chan's bed, you sat up, still a bit tipsy. You stood from the bed and stumbled slightly as you walked. You saw Chan on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"You left me alone again..." you said softly.

Chan looked at you. "I thought you'd be alright."

You stared at him.

"Come here.." he muttered.

You moved to him and sat beside him on the couch, leaning into hiss body heat.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, then your mouth ran faster than your brain could help and you asked. "Do you like me..."

Chan's body stiffened.

"Be honest.."

"Y/n."

"Tell me."

"Minho would be angry at me-"

"CHAN!" You snapped, pulling away from him. "No... I understand. No one really likes me because I'm jus-"

He cut you off, kissing you. Your eyes widened momentarily before you relaxed and kissed him back. Your already cloudy mind felt like it was covered by a drape of emotion you couldn't understand, taking all your air away, wrapping itself around you like an anaconda. It squeezed the very passion from your veins and pushed it all into that kiss.

Chan pulled away for air first and your eyes met as he finally whispered. "I don't like you. I love you."

You kissed him again as he leaned into you, pinning you to the couch. His lips moved from yours to your jaw and neck before he froze. Minho... He started to pull away. "Y/n we can't-"

You grabbed his face in your hands and whispered, tears brimming in your eyes, "Please..."

Chan couldn't tell in the rush of getting you from the couch into his room how he ended up beneath you. Staring up into your pretty eyes before you leaned down to kiss him, his tongue fought with yours as your hands lifted his shirt and ran over his chiseled abdomen. When you moaned softly into his mouth something in his snapped and he grabbed you. Flipping you both and pinning you to the bed, staring down at you.

You smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes before kissing you agan, his lips moving to attack your neck and collar bones before he pulled off your shirt. You whined and tugged at his before he pulled it over his head and tossed his somewhere. You reached up and caressed his stomach before he took your hand in his and your fingers intertwined as he pinned it to the bed.

"We shouldn't..." He mumbled against your lips.

"Want you to.." You whispered.

"Fuck.." he moaned softly against your lips and rubbed his crotch against your clothed heat.

You pulled your hands free and wrapped them around him, pulling him down to you. Your world seemed to blur and darken, your only focus the man above you. How he worshipped you, lips moving from your jaw to your throat, decorating your skin with love bites. Moving lower and pulling your pants down slowly.

It wasn't painful or rushed. He kissed you slowly, filling you to the brim and more, each thrust met with soft cry from you. His hands at your hip pulling you into each push of his pelvis against yours. He leaned down and kissed you, his body caging you in, you held onto him tightly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he bucked into you again and again. Knocking the air from your lungs every time he fucked into you, pushing deep, deep.

Mesmerized by the sight of of your pussy engulfing his cock as you whimpered and mewled beneath him.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He mumbled in your ear. "Gonna milk me dry, sweet girl?"

Your back arched off the bed at that, Chan groaned and reached between you rubbing your sensitive clit.

"Cum for me princess." He breathed into your neck, pulling out slowly before stuffing his cock into you roughly again.

"Channie!" Your pussy clenched tightly around hiss manhood and he pulled out. Pumping his cock until his release shot onto your breasts and stomach.

He held himself over you. "Fuck..." He dragged himself up to get something to clean you but when he came his eyes went wide at the sight of your hands on your face the soft sound of your sobs reaching his earss. "Y/N- I shouldn't have. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry-"

"Not you." You said, taking a deep shaky breath.

"Then-"

You took your hands away from your face and smiled. "I love you Chan.."

He smiled gently and kissed your forehead before cleaning you and getting back into bed.

"Can I ask you a question?" You said in the quiet darkness.

"Huh?" He turned to you.

"Did you replace Gudetama?"

Chan smiled. "Was it so obvious?"

"It smelled like your cologne.."

"You paid attention to how I smelled?" he gasped in shock.

"Shut up." You smacked his chest and rolled your eyes despite your face going hot.

He smirked and kissed the top of your head. "I don't mind."

You rolled your eyes but moved closer, relaxing into his warm embrace before falling asleep.

Chan hugged you to his chest, staring up at the ceiling as he caressed your hair. He heard something buzz and looked at your phone on his bedside table. He took in your peacefully sleeping face and smiled about to ignore it. Then it rang.

He moved away from you slowly and reached over you grabbing the jingling device. Minseok's face flashed across your screen. Chan made a face and answered, pulling the covers over your bare body before bringing the phone to his ear.

"Y/N! I'm so glad you finally answered! Baby it's not what you thought! I don't even know her real-"

"Y/n is busy," Chan said, looking at you sleeping.

"Chan?" Minseok asked, confused. "Pass her the phone."

"She's exhausted," Chan said, "and it's because of you. I doubt she'll call you back, so please don't call my girl's number again."

"YOUR GIRL??" He shouted on the other end of the line. "BANG CHAN! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Chan smiled to himself as he said. "Going to sleep with my girlfriend." He got back into bed and smiled at your sleeping face. "Good bye Minseok."

"Oh, Chan I swear-"

Chan hung up and pulled you close to him again.

"What was that about?" You asked half asleep.

"Nothing." Chan kissed your forehead. "Go to sleep."

Chan drove you home the next morning. You were still a bit sad, but as you unlocked the front door your eyes widened at the sight of a disheveled looking Minseok sitting in your kitchen with your elder brother. Chan followed close behind you, his eyes narrowing when he saw the men.

"Y/N!" Minseok jumped from his seat and ran to you.

"Don't touch me!" You shouted as he tried to hug you.

Minho turned to you and Chan. "Minseok told me everything."

"Then why would you let him in-" You started.

"Bang Chan." Minho said quietly. "Get out."

"Minho-" Chan started.

"Get out!" your brother shouted.

"Y/n baby what happened?" Minseok touched your face and you slapped him away.

"What did you tell him?!" You pointed a finger at Minseok.

"What there was to be said." He grabbed your hands and you pulled away.

"Minho. I know what you're thinking-" Chan tried to calm your brother who was standing up now.

"Oh you do?!" Minho said, clearly getting aggravated by Chan's prescence.

"Listen to me-" Chan said, putting his hands up as MInho approached.

But he was cut off by punch to the face that made your eyes widen.

"Bro-" You tried to grab Minho but Minseok grabbed your hand.

"Let's talk about this-" He said before you slapped him hard.

"I told you to stay away from my sister." Minho said, walking up to Chan as he took several steps back.

"Minho let me explain!" Chan said, trying to stay out of his friend's range.

"There's nothing to explain!" Your brother shouted.

"Bro please!" Chan tried.

"Minho!" You grabbed your brother's arm.

He whipped around to face you. "You can't seriously defend him! Y/N!"

"Maybe I am!" You shouted, you walked between Chan and Minho. "No.. I am defending him. He didn't do anything wrong."

Your brother stared at you before looking at Chan and muttering. "Leave."

"Minho." You said softly.

Chan bit his lip before grabbing Minseok and dragging him out with him.

"Why would you do that?!" You shouted as Chan slammed the door behind him.

"Chan wouldn't care about you! IF you knew LIKE I DO you'd understand!" Minho yelled back.

"I don't know him like you do! BUt you should've let him explain!"

"What was there to explain?! He dragged you to bed when you were drunk-"

"DO YOU KNOW WHY?!" You cut him off. "MINSEOK IS AN ASSHOLE! Minseok cheated on me! Chan didn't want to go that far. I asked him to! I like Chan A LOT! Whatever rule or whatever shit you have that keeps me from being with him needs to stop..." You trailed off. "Because you might lose me too."

Your brother stood there in shock as you ran up the stairs.

It was a week later when Chan was out with Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin.

"Just tell Minho you're sorry." Changbin said sipping his cola as the three waited for their food.

"He wouldn't even let me talk." Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Tragic really." Jisung sighed.

Chan and Changbin looked at their friend with blank expressions as if to say be fricking for real.

Jisung sipped his drink. "I think you should just wait a bit. You know? I doubt Minho will stay mad forever, he's your good friend..."

Chan nodded. "I should just apologize whenever he calms down."

"If he doesn't just walk away from the toxic controlling friend." Hyunjin shook his head.

"Apologize now then."

Hyunjin jumped in fear at Minho's voice. "HYUNG!"

Minho looked at Hyunjin. "You'll eat tissues later."

Chan stared at Minho. "How did you even know I was here?"

Jisung looked completely invested in the bubbles floating in his soda suddenly.

Minho laughed and Chan sighed before standing. "Minho I-"

"I'm sorry for punching you." Minho said, "I'm sorry for accusing you of... things... and I'm sorry for making you stay away from Y/N..."

Chan smiled at his friend. "It's alright, I mean I didn't say I liked her before you threw that ban on me suddenly.. I'm sorry too."

The men smiled at each other.

"Hug it out! Hug it out Hug it out! Hug it-" Hyunjin started only to shrink away in fear as Minho grabbed a bunch of napkins from the dispenser on the table.

You laughed and Chan turned to you. "You're here.."

"Someone had to stop Min if he ended up attacking someone." You smiled.

"THEN HELP ME!" Hyunjin started only to get a mouthful of tissues.

You giggled and smiled at Chan as MInho gave him a look.

"May I kiss you princes?" Chan smirked, leaning into you.

MInho acted like he was going to vomit. And Jisung dramatically passed out.

"You may."

Chan pressed his lip against yours.

"ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH!" MInho said rolling his eyes. "You should compensate me for the mental and emotional distress I went through, I say buy me pizza!"

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@asahisimpnation, @juskz

2K notes · View notes

horangare · 1 year

Text

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers

in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)

warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature

wc : 14.9K words

note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request

Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.

Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.

Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.

You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.

All of them except for him.

Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.

“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.

Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”

"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."

“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.

Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.

“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”

Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”

Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”

“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.

“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”

“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”

“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.

“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.

The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…

“Hey, new girl.”

You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“No.” You deadpanned.

His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.

“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.

“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.

“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”

Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”

“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”

“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.

“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”

Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”

You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.

Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”

“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.

“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”

“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.

“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.

“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.

“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”

Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.

You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.

By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.

Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.

What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.

“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.

Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.

“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.

“Promise?”

Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.

Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”

The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.

Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.

He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.

You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.

So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.

Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.

To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.

Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?

“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”

The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”

“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”

Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”

“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”

Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.

Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).

“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”

You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”

Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.

You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”

“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”

The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.

“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.

“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.

“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”

Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”

A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.

“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”

Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”

“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.

“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”

Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.

“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”

“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”

Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.

“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”

“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”

You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.

This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—

“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.

But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”

When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.

In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.

He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.

Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.

He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.

“For you, maybe.”

“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.

You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.

“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.

There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.

Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”

“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”

Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.

Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.

“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.

“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”

That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.

“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”

Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”

“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.

“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.

“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.

The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.

Now you really couldn’t go back.

Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.

“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.

You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“I guess it has.”

When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.

Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.

“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”

“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”

Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”

The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.

“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.

Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”

You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”

You really hoped so.

For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?

Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.

“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.

Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.

“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”

“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”

And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.

“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”

Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”

“Jeonghan.”

Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.

But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.

“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”

You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.

“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”

You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.

“Coming!”

Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.

You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.

So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.

“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”

You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.

“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”

“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.

“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”

“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”

“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.

“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”

Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”

Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.

“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.

“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.

“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.

“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.

“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.

“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”

Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.

“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”

You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?

“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.

Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”

“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.

A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.

“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”

“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”

For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.

“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”

Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.

“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”

“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”

“Shut me up then.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?

His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.

“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.

Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.

He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.

“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.

Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.

“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”

You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”

One promise kept, another one broken.

“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.

“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.

In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.

So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.

“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.

“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”

Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.

“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”

He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.

You’ve just come to two realizations.

1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.

2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.

You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.

“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”

“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.

The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”

You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.

“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.

You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.

A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.

His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.

“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.

“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”

He really remembered that?

“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.

“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”

“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”

Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.

The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.

“The fucking press is still out here?”

It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.

“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”

A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”

“I remember it being more than that, actually.”

He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.

“Are you nervous?”

“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.

“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.

“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.

“Mom, please.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”

“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”

You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.

“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.

“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.

Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.

"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.

Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”

And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.

You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.

“[Y/n]?”

You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.

“Why are you crying?”

He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.

“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”

You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”

His silence was painful.

“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.

Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.

“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”

The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.

“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”

The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”

A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.

“[Y/n]—”

“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”

Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.

“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”

“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”

You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.

Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.

On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.

How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—

Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.

Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.

“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.

Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize to you.”

Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.

“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”

There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.

“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m still upset with you.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”

You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”

Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.

When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.

You breathed out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”

His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”

“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”

“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.

“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.

“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”

“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.

“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.

Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”

He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.

“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.

You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.

“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.

He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.

“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.

He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.

“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”

His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.

“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.

He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”

“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”

You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.

There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.

His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.

“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.

“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”

“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.

Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.

“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.

“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

#yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #svt jeonghan #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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I Sit And Watch You... (tolerate it p2) (Daemon Targaryen x Niece/Wife!reader, Criston Cole x reader) - evermore series

P1: tolerate it

A/N: After intense and popular demand, I decided to write a part 2 to ‘tolerate it’ even though the goal for the series was one fic per song… ANYWAY! I hope you guys enjoy it! And sorry that it took me so long but I went soooo overboard writing this…

Summary: After the realisation that your husband not only does not love you, but has been in love with your sister since before you were even married, you feel adrift in the world. But then suddenly, like a flame appearing in the dark of night, your heart is reignited by someone. This poses an entirely different problem for your poor little heart.

Word count: ~17k (my god...)

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, Rhaenyra’s younger sister, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, depictions of depression, bedrotting due to depression, cheating, insecurity, self-hatred, self-abuse, SMUT, PinV sex, oral (f!receiving), sex-related shame, feeling shame after having sex, just really sad tbh, forbidden relationship, probably OOC characters but I honestly can’t give a shit bc I want to write angst, probs typos (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You weren’t sure how long you drifted between sleep and wakefulness in the dark comfort of your bed. Every few hours one of the maids would poke their head through the crack in the curtains and ask if you were alright, if you wanted or needed anything. Sometimes you wouldn’t answer, would simply stare off into the distance as if you were watching worlds they could not see. Other times you would shake your head despondently, slow and stiff, your eyes not moving from the spot they had latched onto.

Once you had turned to look at the young girl standing at the side of your bed, the curtains pulled back a little and her frowning face shadowed by the sun from behind her. You had simply stared into her face and your eyes had slowly begun to fill with tears until she panicked and slid the curtain shut and rushed out of your room.

You never wanted anything, never needed anything, the maids noticed. They could see tear tracks on your cheeks from time to time, could see the dampness of it on your pillows, and they often muttered to each other about your state, but not a word was said to anyone unless they took notice of it themselves.

The entire week you stayed in your bed, your father knew nothing of your state. He had washed his hands of you the second you had been married off to Daemon, and his sole focus in his slowly dwindling life was Rhaenyra. He had asked after you only once and received the response that you weren’t feeling particularly well. He had frowned, asked the maids to keep an eye on you, and left it at that.

Rhaenyra, hearing of your sudden sickness had come to inquire after you but had received no response from the curtained bed and had felt too awkward around you since your wedding to even try and breach your little confinement. She had stood just beside the bed for a few moments, head tilted up to the ceiling as she tried to think of something, anything, to say but eventually just sighed and wished you well before hurrying out of the room.

Alicent came by to visit you once every day. After hearing of you taking to your bed on the first day and refusing your meals by the evening, she had told Ser Criston to take up a post outside your door and inform her of any changes. She always came to sit on the edge of your bed for an hour to simply watch you or offer idle words about her days. She liked to believe you only responded to her, for you would often simply grasp her hand with shaking fingers as she sat with you, and closed your eyes to listen to whatever she had to say. But despite her best efforts, her gentle words to try and convince you to get out of bed or to at least change out of your nightgown went unanswered.

Daemon visited you once in the entire week you were abed. When you had not shown yourself for dinner on the first evening, he had asked for the maidservant to check on you. He had become accustomed to having meals with you, to the comforting drone of chatter in the background while he sat at the table, and it felt freakishly odd not to have it. Though he was often described as a chaotic person, he was disciplined, and once set in a routine enjoyed keeping it that way.

When the maids returned with a quiet “the Princess said she is not feeling well and has gone to her bed early”, he had simply shrugged and moved on, eating his meal while reading a scroll on the Valyrian histories. But then you were nowhere to be found on the second day, and the third, and when half of the fourth passed and he heard whispers of your complete absence from all of your duties, a tingle of discomfort had settled itself in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn’t say he was worried about you, but something in the air suddenly felt off and he wanted it fixed as soon as possible. The world being out of order simply wouldn’t do.

In the sunlight hour just before dusk, when everything was bathed in a yellow slowly turning to orange and gave the world a warm hazy glow, he marched all the way to your chambers (the ones he had been supposed to share with you). When he had found Criston Cole standing guard at your door, he had almost snarled out loud like a disgruntled dog. He paused for a moment, grimacing as if someone had just put a lime in his mouth without his consent, and then pushed through the doors before remembering you were unwell and might be sleeping. He became quieter then, turning slowly to close the door behind himself and walking with light footsteps.

Though it was still daytime, your room was pitch dark, illuminated only by the thin cracks of light that peeped between the curtains. His eyebrows furrowed, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he searched the room for any threat but found nothing in the low light. When he found the curtains around your bed closed, his heart began to thump wildly in his chest. For a moment, when he reached out and gently grasped the edges, he wondered what he would find in the bed. Would there be a corpse, rotten and shrivelled from how long it had been there? Or would there be an assassin, an attacker ready to pounce as soon as he illuminated them?

He pulled the curtain back only enough to look through with one eye, but what he found was nothing more than the sad sight of a girl asleep in her bed. Though it was warm in the room, becoming almost stifling, you were under the covers. You were on your side, curled around the pillow you clutched tightly in your arms, and for a second he imagined that that’s what you would look like in bed with someone. Your hair was splayed out behind you messily, all over the pillow and some strands fallen upon your cheeks. Your mouth was parted just a little, lips moving with soft steady breaths. Your cheeks were flushed, and he could see the shine of sweat creeping forward from the back of your neck.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he stood there, watching you sleep, but he had found it difficult to tear himself away. How did one manage to look so sad while asleep? He wondered as he noticed the puffiness around your eyes and the way your fingers clenched into the pillow as if it would be taken from you at any moment.

There seemed to be nothing else wrong with you, no gauntness in your cheeks or skin rash in sight, no visible ailment from how much of your body he could glean, but he decided to find the maester before the day was over. He left as quietly as he had entered, tucking the curtain closed again and shooting Criston a sneer as he came back out and strode down the hallway trying to remember where the maesters kept their quarters.

You were in your bed for a week, leaving only to use the chamber pot behind the changing dividers before clambering right back into your bed. All your meals were brought in and left on the little table just beside your bed, and for the first three days were returned to the kitchens untouched. It was only after the third day went by, when Christys, once your nursemaid and later a kitchen hand when you had no more need of her as a child, noticed your third breakfast returning without even a nibble and made her way up to your chambers.

She gently pulled your curtain back and stared at your pathetic little figure curled up under the sheets and sleeping though it was midday. Your eyelids were puffy and dark circles had begun forming under your eyes despite how much you seemed to have been resting. She placed the tray on the little table then sat down on the edge of the bed, just as she had once done when you were sick as a child. Her old weathered face was pulled into a worried frown and she gently reached out and caressed your head. Your eyes opened instantly, it appeared that you hadn’t been sleeping after all, and you watched her as if you had never seen her before. She smiled, or tried to, and caressed your cheeks with a little hum.

“Little princess,” she called kindly, and you felt the urge to reach out and caress her face, all the wrinkles that had appeared since you had been a child under her care. Her skin was beginning to sag a little around her neck and cheeks and her face was all soft and pudgy, as you imagined a grandmother’s to be like.

She did not try to convince you to leave the confines of your bed, to come out where the sun was shining and to leave the melancholia behind. She simply told you that if you would like to sit up a little, she would help you drink a sip of water, eat a bite of food, and perhaps you would feel a little better once you lay down again.

You nodded, just one little dip of your head, and allowed her to help you shift your body up a little so you were sitting up against the mound of pillows. You reeked of sweat and the slightly sour smell that came from a stagnant room. Your hair was beginning to get matted and greasy but you did not seem to care about a thing, did not even notice it all.

Christys brought the goblet to your lips, smiling joyfully as you began to take sips, then gulps as the thirst you had ignored took control of your body. You finished two full goblets before you were sated and lay back on the bed with your eyes closed for a moment, heaving as if you had been running through the halls with Rhaenyra as you had once done as children. Christys gently caressed your head, smiling fondly as you leaned into her touch.

“Would you like to eat something, little princess?” She asked quietly, and you only opened your eyes. You looked unsure, as if you were aware of the world around you for the first time, and she didn’t give you the chance to refuse, simply brought the plate into her lap, spooned up a little bit of the broth, and brought it to your lips. Slowly, you opened your mouth and accepted it, humming softly when you realised it was the slightly spicy southern soup she used to make for you when you were sad as a child.

You looked at Christys with your big eyes wide open, as if you were waiting for something, and she almost began to cry. That was exactly how you used to look at her when you were just six summers old, eyes wide, mouth open, as you waited for her to feed you another bite. But there had been nothing so despondent about you back then, no air of defeat hanging around you. What had happened to you that you became like that child again?

Christys smiled at you, a thin watery smile, and held up the spoon again, watching you swallow the broth once more and gently saying “my good girl”, squeezing your hand in commendation as you allowed your lips to relax and smile for the first time since you had entered the bed.

Once you had finished about half the meal, you shook your head and slowly began sliding back down under the covers. Christys simply nodded and placed the plate back on the tray. She gently took a hold of the covers and pulled them up until your chin, tucking them in a little around you before bending down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Rest well, my sweet princess,” she whispered, and when you closed your eyes, you finally looked serene.

On the fourth day, just as night fell, a maester came to see you. You were sat up in bed again after Christys had come to feed you your dinner and had decided to stay sat up even as she left to bring the tray back down to the kitchens. Though the despondency hadn’t left you still, you felt marginally better now after eating and being doted upon by both Alicent and Christys.

You still had no plans to leave your bed, you had become very quickly accustomed to the little space you had created for yourself in it, and were suddenly beginning to feel a debilitating sense of worry every time you imagined stepping foot outside of it and facing the rest of the world. Despite this, after your second day of proper meals, you were considering reaching out of your little cave and grabbing for a scroll or tome you might have left upon your little table if something still happened to be there.

But just as you had finally resolved to do so, you heard the doors open and one of your maids announced that a maester had come to see you. You said nothing, hoping perhaps that your lack of an answer would send them away, but one curtain was simply pulled back and the maester gazed down at you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, as if you had been caught doing something you should not have been doing, but he smiled gently and came closer as you gulped in fright.

“Your highness, word is that you have been taken ill for the past few days,” he spoke jovially, as if hoping his joking tone would heal you, but you simply shook your head and dipped it down to look at your lap.

“Thank you for coming maester,” your voice was hoarse and croaky from a lack of use, and you quickly grabbed the goblet that Christys had left on your table to both take soothing sips of water and give your hands something to do. “But your visit is unnecessary.” You tried to smile but it wouldn’t show, and eventually you looked up at him with earnest eyes, hoping he would leave as soon as you were done speaking. “Though, yes, it is true that I have been confined to the bed, it is myself that has done the confinement. What ails me is not a matter of the body, but one of the heart.” You chewed on your lip, feeling as if you had said too much, but the maester smiled understandingly and gestured to the edge of your bed as if asking to sit. You nodded.

“Your highness, if I understand correctly, you have been in your first quarrel with your husband, and it has much affected you.” You began to shake your head, to open your mouth to deny his claim, but he went on without allowing space for interjection. “But it is the way of marriages to have disagreements. You and your husband will likely have many more before the time of either of your deaths - gods willing it be a long time from now - but it is nothing to worry over so.” You pursed your lips and let him speak, hoping the spiel would end quickly and he would be out of your hair. “And if you believe your actions have caused your husband to abandon his love for you, then know that it is he who came himself to find me and instruct me to visit you out of concern for your wellbeing.” He smiled almost triumphantly, and began standing from the bed as if he had solved everything already, but you looked up at him with a little frown.

“Daemon went to you?” Your voice was small, confused, and he nodded quickly.

“Yes, just as the sun set he found me and told me that you had not been out of bed for four days and nights and to heal you at once.” You nodded, not knowing what to say, and watched him walk out of the room, disgruntled that he had not closed the curtain behind himself.

You were unsure as to the weird churning in your heart. It was all warm and giddy at the thought of Daemon being concerned for you, visiting you while you were asleep and then hunting the maester down for you. It was an act of caring, if not love, and your poor battered heart already began to churn with hope that maybe he could love you if he did not already. But then you were seeing him leaned over Rhaenyra, hair flopping forward onto his forehead. You saw the way she twisted back and forth at the waist teasingly, eyes dancing with mischief as she bit her lip and waited for him to bend down and kiss her silly.

The hope crashed, the despondency returned, and the cycle began once more until you felt you were going mad and began smacking your head against the pillows until your brain felt physically shaken. You wanted to cry, but you were all cried out. You wanted to scream, but you had no voice. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t move. In the end, you lay back on the bed with your eyes closed and let your mind spiral.

Why did he not love you? What was it you had done that made you unworthy of love? Or maybe it was not what you had done, but what you hadn’t. You hadn’t been pretty enough; you were always noticing blemishes on your skin or fat in places there shouldn’t be or the fact that all of your mother’s beauty had been inherited by Rhaenyra, the realm’s delight, your father’s precious and beautiful child, while you were left to yourself without compliment or radiance. You weren’t funny enough; you never had a joke on hand to tell, you weren’t confident enough to tell it anyway. You couldn’t command a room the way Rhaenyra could, or make everyone burst out with laughter at the simplest of words. You always felt stupid despite the amount of time you spent reading or conversing with maesters or travellers. You weren’t loving enough; your smile didn’t instil warmth in the hearts of others, perhaps your kind words weren’t kind enough or your efforts to demonstrate your love were not worthy enough. You simply hadn’t been enough.

The final two days you spent in your bed, you spent thinking. What would you do when you were eventually forced back into the world? How would you continue on? It was obvious that you could not stay hiding in the little world you had created for yourself, if only because you desperately needed to bathe or had begun wanting to visit the library to pick your next read. You didn’t find the answer while still in your bed, but on the sixth day, Christys finally convinced you to get out and properly stretch your legs before having a bath.

“A good stretch, a nice warm bath, getting dressed in your prettiest clothes, will do wonders for you little princess. You may not feel all the way better, but something will have changed and you will be the better for it.” You had nodded, thanking her in a small voice and slipping out of the bed as she went to get the maids to start your bath.

You shivered when your feet touched the cold stone, and though your muscles were stiff at first, it felt good to walk the length of the room over and over until your weakened legs began to shake. You had pushed the curtains back not only on the bed, but on the windows too and had felt your spirits lift as the afternoon sunshine filled your room.

When all the maids came in to fill the tub set at the side of your room, they smiled with relief and tittered over the state of you. With the sunshine and the friendly faces and jovial chatter, your mood began to rise again and despite the ever-present sadness that still lingered in the back of your mind, you felt good for a little while.

They steeped you in the bath like you were tea, letting your skin become pruny as they washed your hair three times over, then scrubbed you down like you were one of the old dirty carpets from the storeroom. You felt pink and raw, like a new skin had emerged from under your old one and the world was a little brighter again. You even laughed when one of the maids made a joke about the habits of debauchery of one of the stableboys.

You picked out a beautiful blush-pink dress that had been made from special fabric brought from Dorne. It was light and airy, designed more in the Dornish fashion leaving your shoulders and arms exposed except for thick straps that held the dress up on your upper arms. You twirled giddily in front of the mirror a few times before sitting down to have your hair done, you never could help yourself from it when you were in that dress.

The maids enjoyed seeing you so alive again after the past week of worry and woe. They giggled happily and clapped for you, and were excited to do your hair. They weaved intricate braids and gathered some of them into a twist on the back of your head while leaving others to fall down your back over the last layer of your unbraided hair. They even wanted to rub rouge on your lips and cheeks and line your eyes but you had politely refused saying you were enjoying the feeling of being clean and fresh-faced, and would keep yourself that way for the rest of the day. Though you had been worrying about your beauty a few days prior, you knew you looked the way you did and couldn’t change it. If you weren’t pretty enough for Daemon, for anyone, you would simply have to learn to accept it and live with it, no matter how much you wished it to be otherwise.

When you opened the doors to your room by yourself for the first time in a week, a little jittery to face the world once more, you were surprised by the guard who stood across the hall from your chambers. He was not your usual protector, the fresh faced Ser Arryk you had become used to, but a stoic faced Dornishman you believed you had seen trailing Rhaenyra before her wedding, but you couldn’t be sure.

You gazed at him for a moment, at the shiny black eyes he averted to the floor as he bowed stiffly in his armour, the thick and beautiful hair combed perfectly back and the faint beard he sported around his mouth and over his jawlines, just past a stubble but not very much. His skin was beautiful and golden brown, like he had been born with the gentle touch of the sun, and for a moment you lost yourself while looking at him. He was exactly as you had imagined a knight to be, tall and dark and strong. He was limned with lethal power.

You smiled, polite and surprised and small, and though he did not return it, only nodded in acknowledgement, you could see his face soften slightly and settle into something a little more gentle and blurred around the edges. You stepped a little closer, still a respectful distance from any man who was not your husband, and curtsied as if you were not the princess but a serving girl passing him in the halls.

“Hello, Ser,” you began, voice almost whispery, “I mean not to offend, only to inquire where Ser Arryk has been off to and left you to his usual duties.” You were warm, and polite almost to a fault, Criston thought, and he had to purse his lips for a moment to stop a smile breaking out on his face at the innocent yet slightly smiley look you offered him.

“Your highness, I am Ser Criston Cole,” and he bowed again as if he had not already done so when first laying eyes upon you, “and fret not about Ser Arryk shirking his duties. He has simply been posted elsewhere for the past week as the queen has personally asked me to oversee your protection while you were unwell.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, smiling in both realisation and fondness as you thought about Alicent sacrificing her trusted guard for you. “The queen is a kind soul,” you spoke with reverence, smiling at the floor for a moment before looking back to him. He had been watching you the entire time, as if he simply could not avert his eyes lest you disappear in a cloud of smoke the second his attention was elsewhere. “Well, if you are still on duty as my protector, would you care to accompany me to the library for the afternoon? I am in desperate need of new reading material.” You asked it as if it was not his job to follow you everywhere you went, as if he needed convincing to accompany you and wasn’t under threat of being a deserter, a traitor to the crown if he refused.

“Wherever you go, I will follow, your highness,” he stated simply, holding his hand out as if telling you to lead the way. You nodded in return, but stood still for a moment as if you were a bit dazed and lost in your surroundings. Then you shook your head a little, like a puppy shaking water off its fur, and continued down the hallway with your light, graceful steps.

As you walked, Criston a stride behind, he watched you with curious (and apprehensive) eyes. You had always been a distant, rather obscure, figure in his life. Someone he walked past in the hallways of the Keep or only knew by name. When Rhaenyra had first chosen him to be a new member of the King’s Guard, he had been briefed on the entire immediate family, anyone who he could possibly be assigned to if he was not with Rhaenyra, and of course you had been included in it, but he had not been told much, and had never needed it either, for Rhaenyra took up so much of his time and never spent any of hers with you. Not once had he heard her mention her younger sister, nor meet with you for more than a moment in passing in the hallway during which he bent his head in respect and allowed you two your privacy.

There was only one moment he remembered clearly from that time. He had been strolling through the gardens with Rhaenyra on an idle and rather humid afternoon. It felt like the entirety of King’s Landing had been poured in syrup, each movement one made was slow, lethargic, succumbing to the heat of the summer. Rhaenyra, still in her youthful blissfulness, her mischief knowing no bounds in her rebellion against her father and Alicent, had been slowly twisting her way down the path, twirling a plucked flower in her hands as he followed. She would occasionally speak to him, say something witty or sarcastic or give a boring observation about something or other, and he would hum or nod or offer whatever thought had conjured in his head at the time. Though it was boring, it was also comfortable.

Then, a light tinkling laugh carried over the air making them both pause. They couldn’t see you yet, you were past the next curve and some bushes still hid the courtyard from which the laugh came. Rhaenyra paused where she was on the path, staring ahead and continuing to twirl the flower in her hand before turning around and walking back toward where he stood.

“I have suddenly changed my mind,” she spoke quietly, eyes distant as she chewed on her lip, “perhaps finding a cool sitting room somewhere in the Keep would be better suited for this afternoon.” He only nodded, he could sense the change in her mood, the pensive air that now hung about her, but before they began walking, hurried little steps came down the path and you were barreling into their view.

“Oh!” You let out a surprised little sound, pausing and almost falling backward in your surprise as you brought a hand to your heart. He watched the fabric of your dress, flowing and beautiful, sway with you, your bare shoulders and the long bell sleeves draping down your arms. The light fabric and the way it moved around you like air reminded him of the time he had spent in Dorne, of the trees swaying in a midsummer breeze. Your cheeks were flushed and a happy little smile widened your mouth, eyes sparkling with girlish joy. Your hair was braided in the fancy way all Targaryens braided theirs, but there was something more free and wild about yours compared to Rhaenyra’s. “Sister,” you breathed out quietly, smiling almost bashfully when you looked upon her. He could tell neither of you were close, but you seemed to put in much more effort to be kind to her than she did in even acknowledging you.

“Sister,” Rhaenyra responded, almost curt, a tight-lipped smile pushing uncomfortably on her face.

“How do you fare on this fine day?” You asked, clasping your hands in front of yourself.

“Fine,” she answered simply, and a rather awkward silence fell between you as you nodded, pursing your lips and suddenly looking rather downtrodden.

“I’m sorry to have intruded upon your leisure time,” you spoke quietly, “and excuse any impropriety I may have shown in running through the halls, I was simply excited. I…” you looked down to the floor and bit your lip to control your smile. “Some special new thread has been brought in from Dorne and I wished to immediately start on my new embroidery project.” You spoke as if she had asked after you, when Criston had noted a clear absence of not only Rhaenyra’s questioning of you but of her seeming interest in your presence. But you continued as if you were used to it, as if you believed she wanted to ask these questions but simply chose to let you speak, and something churned in his stomach at the thought. “I would like to embroider my dragon saddle with some designs, and this thread would be perfect for it, hardy but pretty,” and you looked at your hands giddily as if you were already holding it. Then you seemed to bow your head for a moment as you said your goodbyes, “I shall leave you to your leisure, Sister,” and you walked off hurriedly past them, as if you hadn’t noticed his presence the entire time.

As he looked upon you now on the way to the library, he realised a change had overcome you since that time. Just as one had overcome him. Though you were dressed more in the Dornish style, like a summer sky on the hottest day of the year, you reminded him more of the monsoon rains at the island’s southernmost tip, warm drops of rain falling from orange-grey skies at sunset. Your steps were no longer light and dance-like. Though they were still graceful, they were careful, measured. You held yourself differently, much more still, and he couldn’t imagine you skipping or running girlishly through the halls. Even your face, having grown a little more, had taken on a sombre quality. Your eyes were thoughtful, slightly closed off, and… sad. And your face rested on something serene now, something gently heartbreaking though you were neither smiling nor frowning.

He followed you all the way into the library and then back and forth through the spaces between the shelves. Occasionally you would turn to him and point out a tome you had once read as a girl, or the scrolls you had only just returned the week before. Then you would smile up at him, as if his silent company was most cherished by you, and it soothed something in him he didn’t know was hurt in the first place.

Later in the evening, when all the candles had been lit and you had been returned to your room to prepare for dinner and Criston had been relieved of his duties for a few hours by the return of Ser Arryk, he found a messenger from the queen requesting his presence in her parlour. The entire way there, he thought about you, as if his mind could find nothing else interesting other than the way you had gently refused him from taking the books from your arms as you traversed through the library. Though he had taken the first few, when he began to reach for the little pile you had accumulated in your arms to add to his own, you had shuffled away from him with a little huff, saying “you have quite enough load as it is, Ser Criston. I may have been…” you hesitated before choosing your next word, “unwell for the past few days, but I am no invalid, and am perfectly capable of doing my own hefting.” And at that you had hefted the pile a little higher into your arms, and he could see them trembling a little as you hurried your step a little to reach one of the tables.

“My apologies, Princess,” he had answered with the hint of a teasing smile, and you had beamed up at him as if that little show of emotion was everything you had wanted and more.

“Unnecessary and therefore unaccepted,” you had quipped before turning your back on him and dropping the books onto the table.

As he thought about it on his walk to the queen’s sitting rooms, he had to swallow down a chuckle that threatened to break out at the memory. Though most of the time he had spent guarding your rooms was uneventful, those few hours were joyful and distracting. Even as you had sat at the little table, forearms leaned against the edge, it had been satisfying to simply watch you scour the pages, your lips moving as you read the words. A sudden request for you to read aloud to him had even entered his thoughts at one point, if only to hear your soft voice a little more, and he had needed to clear his throat at the intrusion upon his mind. You had glanced up at that, eyes wide and asking if he was alright without saying a word, and he had simply bowed his head so you would continue undisturbed.

When he reached the doors to the queen’s rooms, he knocked three times. He was quickly told to enter in her quiet yet firm voice, and found her sitting at her writing desk as the toddler Helaena crawled about the floor near the fireplace with her maids while another cradled the baby Aemond. Alicent beckoned him to close the door and come closer, and he obliged quickly, coming to stand right beside her desk and leaning down a little so he could hear her clearly over the children’s babbling and the chatter of the nursemaids.

“Ser Criston,” she began, heaving a breath out that made her shoulders drop a little and folding her hands one on top of the other on her desk. She smiled up at him as if content and a little weary. “You have been a loyal knight, and a comforting presence for me in my time at the Red Keep. Do not think I am dissatisfied with your service as I request of you what I am about to do so,” and she paused, pursing her lips for a moment and looking at her two children before turning back to him. “I would like for you to change your posting to be sworn guard of Princess Y/n. I trust you will find a worthy replacement for yourself at my side and will not question whomever you choose.” She paused again, eyes pensive and mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of ways to explain her thoughts. She closed her eyes, no more than a long blink, then sighed long and low. “I have feared for her since the day of her betrothal, and I fear still that the toll of her marriage is becoming too much to bear. But the princess is self effacing, and would never dare to burden another with any of her worries or woes. I simply wish for you to be the loyal knight to her as you have been to me, and if you see a change in her spirits, or any… behaviours displayed by her husband that may be a cause of concern for her, come to me with these observations and I shall do my best to aid her with the hand she has been dealt.” She smiled up at Criston as if to say ‘you understand, don’t you?’ and he nodded, glancing about her desk as if he was already thinking about everything she had said. “Good,” Alicent finished simply and dismissed him with a wave of her hand telling him to start as soon as possible. And with that, he went to find Ser Arryk and realight upon his duties at your side.

You were usually quick to be ready for dinner on time, never wanting to keep your husband waiting lest it harden his heart to you anymore than it already was, but at your first dinner returning to his company since your discovery, you took your time. Until the last second you toyed with the option of simply not attending, saying though you had felt better during the day, the bout of wellness had ended and you needed to take to your bed once more. Even sitting at the vanity as your maids redid your hair and applied rouge to your lips and cheeks, your bed seemed to call to you, a siren song begging you to return to your self-imposed conferment and spend the rest of your days hidden away. But you could not.

When you were ready to leave, you were surprised to find Ser Criston Cole returned to his post. He had informed you of the change of guard before he left, but you had believed he would be gone for a whole shift before returning (or not returning at all). He nodded to you as you walked out, and you paused just in front of him with a surprised smile.

“Ser Criston! You told me Ser Arryk would be returning as my guard for the evening!” He nodded sheepishly, looking away for a moment, and you almost caught a little smile brewing at his lips before his face returned to its natural stoicness.

“The queen has decreed that my oath of service to her be transferred to you, your highness,” and the way he said it was so simple, a man following an order.

“The queen?” You asked, frowning a little in confusion.

“Yes. I hope you are not put-off by it, your highness. If you wish to choose your own King’s Guard or have Ser Arryk return to his duties, I will speak with the queen myself on your behalf.” He seemed eager not to upset you, brown eyes widening a little in earnestness as he spoke, and you smiled, waving off his concern.

“No, no, Ser Criston, nothing like that. You have served Alicent well in your time with her and if she trusts you, then I do so as well. I simply wonder if she has done this out of some misplaced concern about my wellbeing,” but the way you said it was warm, as if you appreciated that she had done it nonetheless.

“I could not say,” he replied quietly, but the way he looked to the ground made you believe he was holding something back. You decided not to question it.

“Well, off we go, Ser Criston. I believe I am late to dinner with my husband,” your joviality was forced, he could see it in your distracted eyes and the tight smile you tried oh so hard to keep up. Your back was rigid rather than the naturally straight posture you usually kept from years of training, and your clasped hands in front of you were fidgeting with the rings upon your fingers.

He could see the wedding band you had been given, a band of gold around a big fat ruby. It screamed more of your husband’s tastes than your own, gaudy compared to the delicate jewellery you had worn during the day.

He thought it rather funny that you wore a ring on the same finger of your opposite hand, this one more simple, a thin band of silver inlaid with tiny sapphires all around. The blue was bright against your skin and your dress, and though it seemed often polished, it looked a little worn and old. He wished to ask you about it, but simply bit his tongue and followed you to the next wing in which the dining room you and Daemon used resided. Once more he noted how odd it was that husband and wife ate dinner together but not ever in their own chambers.

He stopped outside the doors, turning his back on them and subsequently facing you, and he noted the way you were stopped just in front of them. You were staring ahead of you fearfully, as if whatever lay behind that door was the greatest enemy of all, the thing you feared most in the world, and you seemed to revert to the little girl you had once been, hands shaking and lower lip twitching as if you were about to cry. The urge to comfort you as one would a child raised in him, and he gazed upon you with a pitiful, dog-like sadness. He cleared his throat.

“Your highness, admonish me if I break any code of impropriety,” he began quietly, not looking right at you but somewhere just above your head. “But if you do not wish to dine with your husband, I can carry in the message for you and escort you back to your chambers at once.”

You turned to look at Criston, into his eyes that had softened much since you had first met and the little crinkle just above his brow. You smiled, albeit it being thin and watery as you suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to cry, but you shook your head. You wiped at your under eyes until you felt that your tears had dissipated and took deep breaths until your lips no longer shook and the lump in your throat had been swallowed down.

“No,” you shook your head, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them and shaking your head again. “No, that will not be necessary.” But you smiled at him in thanks, and reached out to gently touch the forearm he held over his stomach. Though you only touched metal, your fingertips tingled and you felt like your septa would come running in to scold you for touching a man who was not your husband. Nothing happened, and you simply curled your fingers inward and brought the fist to your side. Criston watched you like you were created anew before him. And then you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you swiftly, and leaving him to the silence of the hallway, and the crackling of fire in the sconce directly ahead of him.

For the first time you entered the room when Daemon was already seated at the table. He looked back as the doors opened and found you striding in with your head held high, more confident than he had ever seen you before, and he raised an eyebrow at the spectacle. Your lips were pursed tightly, and your eyes were wary, but he couldn’t see it. You walked all the way to the table and sat down swiftly across from him, folding your hands in your lap and only looking so far as your own plate. He hmphed, twisting back to sit properly in his seat and resting his elbows on the table as he watched you. You glanced up, and when you noticed his eyes on you, you seemed to wilt a little like a leaf being boiled in front of him.

“It seems you have recovered, niece,” and after a moment, you nodded. He never called you wife, you realised. No endearing name like dearest or ‘my heart’. It was always either your name or ‘niece’.

“Yes,” you answered, and then the servants were bringing the dishes to the table and you two remained silent until they had returned to their spots against the walls.

Daemon felt a little startled as he poked at the chicken on his plate. It was so… quiet. Usually by this point in the evening he would have been briefed only on the contents of your morning, and though he often lost himself in his thoughts or simply didn’t pay attention, the chatter in the background had become surprisingly… soothing. He looked up at you, but you were simply swirling your soup around and around with your spoon. The silence was grating. He clenched his jaw and put his knife and fork down onto the plate with a little ‘clink’ sound.

“Was that Crispin’s voice I heard at the door?” He asked a little tersely, and your eyes were wide as they shot up to him. Wide and almost fearful, he would think. “He stood guard at your door while you were sick, you know? Has Alicent finally tired of her dog?”

“I-” you gulped, glancing all over the table but never at him. You looked anguished, pained, and he wondered if whatever had kept you sick in your bed had not fully left you. “It’s Criston.”

He looked at you, blinking a little quicker, mouth a little open. Your voice had been small, like the voice children used to wake their parents from their beds, and he couldn’t quite believe you had said what you said.

“Come again?” And he put his hand to his ear, leaning in and squinting his eyes exaggeratedly, all a show for his heart had begun to pound a little in his chest.

“His name is Criston. Ser Criston Cole,” you answered, and he clenched his jaw so hard it throbbed for a moment after he released it. You still refused to look at him, and it was beginning to irritate him to the ends of the earth. Though you had not been a particular fan of eye contact before, whenever you had spoken to him at the wedding, at the dinners that followed, you had always looked up at him with big eyes and a tentative little smile. Always looking for his approval. He simply hummed and leaned back to continue eating.

The dinner was entirely silent after that, and though you left feeling relieved and a little stronger, Daemon was left unsatisfied, something suddenly unsettled in his chest as he watched you breeze out of the door in your fluttering gown without a look back.

Two weeks on from that day, and you had established a new routine. You would spend the morning hours as you had done before, ensuring everything in your husband’s personal life was perfect, from newly ordered bedsheets and the restuffing of his pillows, to ordering only his favourite cuts of meat and ensuring the squires polished his armour regularly. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps out of social convention that you had never once flouted, or simply because despite your anguish when you even thought of him, you may never stop pursuing the need for your husband’s love and approval, but you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

These hours were usually rather hazy in your memory, a series of yes’s and a grey melancholic sheen over your eyes, but after a slow and lazy lunch (usually in Alicent’s company) you always felt better for the latter half of your day.

You did what you had once done before your marriage, carrying a book or your latest embroidery project in your arms and meandering through the courtyards until you found one devoid of people (or at least devoid of a crowd) and settling down under the shade of a tree. Since your marriage you had found the company of your ‘friends’ grating. Some found pleasure only in the love of their husbands, speaking on and on about the gifts of jewellery and flowers and the showers of attention they received while you simmered in jealousy and an overwhelming feeling of failure. Others found pleasure in telling racy stories of their escapades in the bedchamber(often not with their husbands) and here you too were jealous or simply lost. They described feelings and sensations you had only ever known in hints, desires you didn’t know one could desire, actions of those desires you didn’t think were possible.

Soon you felt so estranged from them all, so alone in your circumstance, that you simply avoided the gatherings. Though you did sometimes miss the camaraderie of the ladies, the easy laughter and womanly loyalty, you found that it wasn’t such a devastating loss. Especially when you found such a thoughtful companion in Ser Criston Cole.

He was as stoic as many a knight of the King’s Guard, but you found a certain kinship in his silence and soft looks. He seemed to understand the sadness that seemed to tinge even your happiest moods. He never questioned the sudden onslaught of tears that sometimes attacked you during the day, only offering a handkerchief if you began looking around desperately for one. Nor did he question why you avoided the wing in which Rhaenyra and her soon to be growing family lived, even if it was at your own expense. Or why at even the barest hint of Rhaenyra’s voice you turned and almost ran in the other direction. Though he often only spoke when he was spoken to and usually chose the least verbal answer, his consistent presence and vigilant watch over you was comfortable. It may be only a job for him, but to always have someone watching over your safety and comfort felt… frankly, amazing.

“Ser Criston?” You looked up at him from your place nestled between the thick roots of an old oak tree in the western-most courtyard of the keep.

It was one of the colder days of the summer though the sun was shining brightly. A brisk breeze had picked up over the evening before and rarely settled. You were dressed in your Targaryen colours, a black dress with red accents, and if it hadn’t been for the bright pops of colour he would think you had donned your mourning shroud.

Your hair had been left undone for the day, and you seemed to enjoy the freedom of letting it fly around you untamed. It made you look younger, wilder, and Criston found it an enjoyable sight. You seemed a little bleary after your lunch and laid your head back against the trunk of the tree as you read. You had tried to convince Criston to sit down multiple times and though he refused each time, you chose not to comment about the way he sometimes leaned subtly against the trunk of the tree.

“Yes, Princess?” He answered, tilting his head down to look at you. You smiled, you derived a secret kind of pleasure when he addressed you so.

“Would you enjoy this more if I read aloud to you? I fear you must find these afternoons rather dull.” Your smile was almost teasing, and you were successful in eliciting a little smile in return.

“Do not trouble yourself on my account, Princess,” his voice was soft and he looked away from you to smile at the floor. Your entire body suddenly felt warm and almost giddy.

“It would be no trouble, I am already reading after all. I simply hope to ensure you do not find my company exceptionally boring,” you said it with a little laugh, bringing your hand up to your mouth as you giggled, and you couldn’t be sure if the sound you heard was actually the little huffing chuckle you believed it to be. When you looked back up at him, his eyes seemed to shine and you wanted to push your face so close to his that those eyes were all you saw. You cleared your throat and averted your gaze as the tips of your ears began burning.

It was quiet for a few moments, only the rustle of the leaves and the soft sounds of your breathing as you lay your head back against the tree and closed your eyes.

“I enjoy your company,” it was soft, low, barely audible, but you heard it and your entire body tensed. You refused to open your eyes for a moment, wanting to sit in the words, in the pleasant feeling of being liked, of being enjoyed. When you did open your eyes again and look at him, he had already trained his gaze somewhere across the yard. You cleared your throat and began to read aloud.

Since your wedding, your husband came to visit your bedchambers once every fortnight. He would knock quietly on the door at the hour of the bat, when the moon was highest in the sky, and enter before you could say anything. Upon the sight of him, you would usually begin walking toward the bed, climbing over the covers to situate yourself in the middle. There were very few candles lit at that hour, and everything was shrouded in a soft secretive light.

He would be quick to follow you onto the bed, simply undoing the laces on his trousers and slipping them down a little so his cock could bob out. There was never any need for either of you to get undressed further than this.

Usually he would have you on your hands and knees, a pillow shoved under your hips and another below your head so you could rest the side of your face against it. It was carnal, and unfeeling, how you imagined animals coupled in the wild. You often felt a little sick afterward, like for a moment your body had not been your own, and you would wait to move from the bed until you heard the door close behind him. It was different this time.

Your spirits were lifted after an enjoyable afternoon reading to Criston and though you continued to stay silent at your dinners with Daemon, you were too lost in your own thoughts to feel tense and skittish. You allowed yourself to be lost in the memories, to imagine the breeze blowing over your skin again and pretend you could hear the leaves rustling above your head once more.

Daemon had tried to initiate a conversation a few times over the weeks since your silence began, but you answered sparingly, either humming a response or shrugging or simply nodding. He had again attempted this night, but you hadn’t even bothered to answer any of his inquiries, staring off into space as you slowly chewed on your piece of chicken, an odd show of rudeness from you. He had simply taken to watching you instead.

You were dressed like a true Targaryen princess, a bright red dress like you had bathed in blood. The sleeves weren’t really sleeves for they were cut down the middle and hung from your shoulders at your sides and your arms were bare despite the cold day. Your hair had been threaded into one large braid and you wore gold jewellery, delicate ruby drop earrings to match your dress and wedding ring. Your mother’s ring, the one gift she had left you days before her death clashed with the rest of your clothes but he had never once seen you without it.

Daemon was not often surprised with himself, but as he looked upon your face he felt he had never seen it before. He traced the slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw, the set of your brow bone and the flesh of your cheeks with his eyes. The curve of your eyelashes, the shape of your cupid’s bow, the slant of your eyebrows, was all new to him. You looked exactly the same as on the day of your wedding, but he felt he had not seen his wife before. And an even greater mystery, something random and unexplainable, was the sudden desire to know her.

When you finished your meal and were about to leave, he stood with you and began following you out. Upon realisation, you paused just before the door and turned to look at him. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, but when you didn’t continue on your way and simply kept staring up at him in confusion he sighed and walked to stand just in front of you.

“I shall accompany you to your chambers this evening, wife,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him, “to share some wine and… converse.” It sounded almost painful coming out of his mouth, as if he was uncertain and disguising it with a false bravado. But you could see the way he glanced away from you and to the corners of the room, the way his hands fidgeted a little with each other and how his body looked like it was desperate to march out of the room but his entire willpower was devoted to keeping him standing exactly where he was.

“Alright,” you whispered, and a blush filled your cheeks like hot water being poured into a mug. Surely sharing a cup of wine was a euphemism. You twisted the fabric of your sleeves into your hands as you walked half a stride behind Daemon.

All of Criston’s training had to be used when Daemon came walking out of the room shortly followed by you. He had endured the look of disgust that overcame Daemon’s features as he laid eyes upon him, then felt his heart melt at the little smile you offered. More and more he felt himself fall victim to your charms and each passing day had the feeling of a march closer and closer to heartbreak.

He had begun to follow you, as was his duty, but when Daemon heard his heavy-booted footsteps, he paused and turned around with a fake smile of kindness and a very real look of triumph in his eyes.

“You may leave us, Crispin, I am experienced enough in combat to protect my wife,” and for a moment Criston thought Daemon would try and wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Take a break, visit a brothel.” Criston couldn’t control the grimace that moved his lips. You were looking at the wall, hands twisting and twisting in the fabric, and he watched you with the sudden overwhelming need to take your hands gently in his and kiss each of your fingers until your hands relaxed.

“Would you like me to relieve my duty for the evening, Princess?” He asked quietly, as if only your voice mattered, and not once had he looked up at Daemon since your uncle spoke. You smiled, equal parts joyful and thankful, and looked up into his eyes.

“It is alright, Ser Criston, you deserve some time devoted to yourself. But when I next open my door in the morning, I expect to see you there,” the order in your voice was so joking and pathetic, the fake frown on your face shining with mirth; he half expected you to wag your finger at him. He smiled, not for the first time resisting the urge to reach forward and press loving kisses to the backs of your hands, and bid you goodbye with a bow before walking off in the other direction.

You stood there for a moment, watching him walk away, when Daemon cleared his throat behind you. You turned around and gazed up at him through your lashes. Every ounce of irritation Damon had felt a moment ago seemed to suddenly become secondary. He held out his hand to you, and you simply stared at it. You could see the calluses on his fingers from where he gripped his sword. He wiggled his fingers, watching you with raised eyebrows as if you were going dumb before his eyes. Slowly, with a hand that twitched like a skittish deer, you settled your hand into his.

He looked down at it and felt his chest bloom with warmth at how small your fingers were against his, how gentle they looked against his palm. He wrapped up your hand in his own and gripped it firmly, not tight enough to hurt but you would have to tug against it if you wanted to get away. Your fingers became warm and a tingle went up your arm. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling.

He led you all the way back to your chambers and even held the door open for you. He didn’t let go of your hand as you passed him, instead following quickly after you and closing the door quickly behind him. It made a loud sound as it closed, not a slam but the sound of wood hitting wood a little hurriedly, and you jumped, trying to tug your hand out of his. He didn’t let it go, simply shushed you a little and led you to the little seating area by the fireplace. He settled you into a chair and, finally letting go of your hand, went to the side table that had a jug of wine ready on it. You turned in your seat and watched as he poured two cups and brought them back to you. He smirked a little when he noticed you but didn’t say anything. He sat in the chair next to yours with a little huff and sipped from his glass. You simply held yours in your hands and looked into it.

“Will you not say anything at all to me this evening, wife?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if he was teasing or there was a harsh edge to his voice.

“What would you like me to say?” You asked quietly, not moving your eyes from the cup of wine but watching him through your periphery. He paused at that, eyes trained on you in the way you imagined he faced a problem on the battlefield.

“Hm, that is a rather good question,” and he smirked as he took another big gulp from his cup. He drained it right after, and you watched him get up and refill it. You hadn’t touched anything more than the cup the wine was in. You turned to watch him again.

Daemon stood at the table with the jug of wine and stared at it. Then, slowly, he put his own cup down and spun on his heel. He walked back over to you, eyes on your face, and your breath caught in your throat. He was not walking quickly, but not slowly either, and it felt like a lifetime before he found his way to you. He gripped where your head met your neck and used his thumb to lift your head until you were craning it up to him. Then he bent at the waist and pressed his mouth to yours like he was sipping wine right from the centre of the barrel.

You didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, and the fear of tipping over the cup of wine made you grip it until your fingertips turned white. Your eyes stayed open, but you couldn’t see anything more than a skin-coloured. Your mouth had opened a little in a silent gasp when he had first kissed you, and he used his lips to open it further, to plunge his tongue into your mouth and taste you. He tasted of wine and the slight sourness of alcohol, and you remembered how much you’ve always disliked the drink.

It was an odd sensation that brewed within you as he kissed you and tried to coax your response. It was something you had wanted for so long, a simple act that should have been common between man and wife that you had been denied as long as you had been able to call yourself a wife. And now that you had it, you had it so freely given and initiated by the husband who hadn’t desired you, an uncomfortable mix of triumph and repulsion, glee and disgust made your stomach churn. You found that you no longer wanted the kiss he so freely offered and it made you want to cry with disappointment.

He pulled away, not far so you could feel his heavy breaths against your lips and his eyes blurred together in a hazel slash. He simply watched you, gaze switching between your eyes, and for a moment he looked dissatisfied. Was it you that caused it in him, or was it his inability to see what he wished for? He moved his hand down a little from the base of your skull to the back of your neck and caressed his thumb along the front of your throat. The thought that he could simply press inward and strangle you flashed in your head.

Daemon leaned down again and as you closed your eyes in preparation, he used his other hand to pluck the cup of wine from your grip and deposit it on the table. You watched the wine slosh almost to the edge but swing back the other way before it could spill. He used the same hand to grasp your arm and urge you to stand. You did without struggle. The hand on the back of your neck was uncomfortably warm and the callus on his index finger was rough against your cheek as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Come to bed,” he whispered, and you nodded, allowing him to lead you to the edge of the four-poster. He turned you around and began undoing your braid until your hair fell in waves down your back. He caressed it, soft and reverent, before undoing the back of your dress and slipping it over your shoulders. The top fell down to your waist and he pushed it over your hips until it was in a heap at your feet. He kissed along your bare shoulders, first on the left then on the right, and smiled against the skin when you shivered. His hands moved up and down your arms, warming you up, and goosebumps pimpled on your skin. He pushed the straps of your shift down your arms, and you let him. The crumpled fabric slipped easier over your skin and joined the pile on your feet.

Everything was hazy in the world, like smoke had filled the room and you could feel it only slightly against the back of your throat. You were not you, and the room was not your room, but some ethereal version of each thing. Nothing of consequence would occur in these moments.

He turned you around then, and gently cupped both your breasts in his hands. He caressed them, ran the pads of his thumbs over your nipples as they hardened in the cold air, held their weight in his hands and felt the hot underside of your breasts. Your breath was shallow, chest quivering, and he bent down to kiss each breast, hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses that made you gulp with a dry mouth and throat. He licked each nipple, bit each one, and when your hand came up to grip his arm as you swayed a little, he pulled away.

“Sit and lay back,” he ordered, gripping your hips and guiding you backward until your thighs hit the bed and you were sat on the edge. He reached up and pushed your shoulders down until you were flat on your back with your legs hanging over, toes just barely brushing the cold floor. You felt like the dolls you had once played with, stiff and inanimate, moved only at the will of others.

Daemon was quick to rid himself of his clothes. His jacket was already crumpled on the floor and his shirt was thrown through the air to land somewhere on the stone floor past your bed. The laces on his pants were undone so quickly you thought he might rip them right off, but he simply loosened them until he could push them and his underthings off.

Daemon got on his knees between your legs and carefully raised them so your knees bent over his shoulders and your calves rested against his back. He pulled you forward a little more and gazed at the space between your legs. Your skin was tinged yellow from the candlelight and he had never thought a woman more beautiful than in that moment. He moved his hands up your thighs and rested both flat on your stomach. He pressed his face to your core, licking over your lips and between the seam until the taste of you was imprinted on his tongue and your slick was smeared over his mouth and pushed its way down to his chin.

You lay back with your eyes clenched shut and your mouth open, chest heaving as you panted like a dog. Your hands were twisted in the sheets and the skin on your chest had gone red. Your mind was somehow rooted in your body yet floating away at the same time. You existed in every cell, every sensation, the feeling of his wet tongue against that little spot right at the top that made fire erupt in your stomach made you moan louder than you ever had. You hadn’t even known you were capable of moaning.

Daemon lapped against you like a dog licking up a treat, wide and wet and rough against the inflamed little nub that twitched with your heartbeat. He felt you cum on his tongue, felt the quiver of your stomach against his hands, the way you curled upwards a little. He tasted it, the sudden increase of slick against his lips. He seemed to drink your entire being as he kneeled between your legs.

You looked down as he pressed his cheek to your inner thigh. His face was warm against where he lay it down and you could feel his heavy breaths over your core, like gentle fingers brushing over the sensitive skin. He met your eyes, his dark and looking black in the dim light. For a moment you wanted to get up and run. It was not your uncle but a demon between your legs, sent to the world by the old gods to devour you. You pushed up, suddenly scared, but he was quick to slither up your body and press his mouth to yours, press his tongue to yours, fill you with the light sticky taste of your core. You heaved against his mouth and one of your hands came up to clutch his shoulder. He took it as encouragement.

Daemon lay his weight over you and stared into your eyes. You could feel his hand at the apex of your thighs, haphazardly grabbing his cock and bumping the tip against you until he found your entrance. You held your breath, the pressure in your chest steadily increasing, and waited for the inevitable sting and drag. It hurt less for the first time, more like tiny concentrated bolts of lightning zipping along the flesh inside you, and you huffed out a breathy sound, both hands clutching at his arms as he pushed into you.

Each time Daemon bedded you, he always made this expression, this look of pain and pleasure that had his eyebrows scrunching together and his mouth opening as he closed his eyes. This time he kept his eyes open, as much as he could anyway, and looked straight at you as his hips met yours. Your spine felt fluid, like it no longer existed and therefore you were incapable of movement.

“Tighter than a virgin,” he huffed out, and you clenched around him which only made him rock his hips. You weren’t sure if you liked his words or not, a little grimace on your face. You began to close your eyes as his hips began to slowly rock into you, gulping as you panted, but he gripped your chin tightly in his hand. “No, keep looking at me,” and so you did.

It was painful to look into his eyes as he pushed into you. You felt the pleasure shooting from your core, the natural tightening of your thighs around his hips, but an equally painful internal turmoil mingled with it. You looked into the blackness of his blown-wide pupils and saw the darkness of the hallway in which he had stood kissing Rhaenyra. In his grip on your chin you imagined how Rhaenyra felt when he had gently tipped her chin up to press his lips to hers reverently. You wondered if she knew the weight of him on top of her exactly the way you knew it now.

Daemon leaned down and broke eye contact to press his face into your neck, to smell your skin and sweat. He panted against you, eyes closed in the blackness of the little space around his face and he pushed his hips in and out faster despite how much he wanted to keep everything slow. He wanted to feel you, to know you as intimately as a man and wife should know one another. He knew nothing else but this. You whimpered a little into the air, like a bird falling from a branch, and he wrapped you up a little tighter in his arms.

The coupling was quick. You found it easy to fall over the cusp after the time he spent on you with his tongue, and he seemed eager to follow soon after. When he finished, he lay himself on top of you for a little while, breathing heavily and allowing the sweat on your bodies to dry a little. You felt suffocated. You wanted him off. But you said nothing.

Eventually, Daemon rolled off of you and used the edge of the sheets to wipe himself off. Then he clambered onto the bed and lay across it properly, sheets at his waist and head settling into the pillow. Your limbs were stiff as you got up, and your core felt sore. You settled your weight on precarious legs, and made your way to your little private area behind the divider. A bowl of water was set on a little table and you dipped a washing rag into it before slowly cleaning the seed from your legs. You were careful, and your fingers were soft against the tender flesh between your legs, but you only stopped when every crevice felt clean. Perhaps this was the reason you weren’t getting pregnant, you thought, but you couldn’t stop.

Your nightgown was hanging over the divider and you quietly pulled it on, settling the fabric around you before slowly making your way back to the bed and getting onto your side. Daemon watched you curl your knees to your chest and sit against the pillows, only allowing the sheets to cover your feet. You rested your chin against your legs and let out slow breaths. He couldn’t see your face properly because of your hair falling forward but he was desperate to. He reached out and gently pushed some of it back. Your eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell what you were thinking about. He simply sighed and reached out to rest his arm over your feet before closing his eyes.

The only candle that had been left burning was on the little table beside your bed, and it watched you sit there for an hour. When you had felt Daemon’s breathing slow down, you had opened your eyes and watched the door. When you were sure he was asleep, you gently slid your feet out from under his arm and crept over the edge of the bed. You didn’t put on slippers and stood for a minute to shiver as the cold from the floor seeped into your toes and heels. Then you crept to the divider again and gently brought down your robe from the corner and slipped your arms into the sleeves before tying it at the waist. You looked back to see if Daemon was sleeping only once, then walked to the door. You opened it so slowly the wood made not a hint of sound, and when you were finally outside you let out a deep breath.

You weren’t quite sure why you had come outside in the first place, but you felt a little better. You turned to the right and there stood Ser Criston against the wall just beside your door, watching you in the dim light. You watched him in return, the hair that curled a little inward at the nape of his neck and the pink tint of his lips. The sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you and you rushed toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you sobbed against his chest.

Criston wrapped you up as much as he could with his armour still on, but he pressed his cheek down onto your head and shushed you as you cried. Your sobs were soft and muffled, your tears smearing on his armour and your cheeks as you hiccuped in his arms. He smoothed a hand over your hair, down your back, then cupped it around your waist.

When your sobs began to quiet a little, your hiccups not as frequent, you pulled away quickly and stood against the wall across the hall, curling in on yourself as you used the edges of your nightgown to wipe at your eyes. Only your laboured breathing filled the hall, and the creak of his armour as he stood to attention again. You waited until you felt like you could open your mouth again without dissolving into sobs and turned to him with splotchy cheeks, a shiny nose, and red eyes that made you look like a little girl again.

“I am sorry, that was inappropriate of me,” you whispered, and your voice was gritty and painful. He simply shook his head, pursing his lips for a moment before looking away from you and into the fire of the sconce directly in front of the door to your chambers.

“Nothing happened, Princess,” and you smiled a little, huffing out something akin to a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

You pulled the sleeves of your nightgown and robe so they covered your hands, then pressed one of your fists to your lips and nose as you leaned back against the wall directly opposite to Criston. Your other hand came around to grasp your elbow and support it against your stomach, and you looked into Criston’s eyes. They were the colour of the bark of oak trees, the darkest honey, the sweetest chocolate from Dorne.

“I don’t like my husband,” you whispered, and it felt criminal to voice the opinion out loud. You looked around a little, as if he would suddenly be standing at the door, ready to punish you for it, but nothing happened except Criston huffing out a laugh. You smiled at the sound, a warm, gruff, sort of sound.

“Truth be told, I do not like your husband either,” and you giggled at that, pressing the smile into your fist.

“I-” you paused, averting your eyes to the floor. “I like you though.” You glanced up to see his reaction, but he was looking at the wall ahead of him, and his face didn’t change.

“I’m not sure that is a wise decision, Princess,” he said simply, as if he was reading it off a paper, and you laughed, thinking he was joking, being sarcastic or self-deprecating, but when he didn’t join in your laughter you stopped. Your cheeks burned and you were overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“I did not mean-” you cut yourself off, biting your lip until it hurt and then biting it a little more. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, and he shook his head, frowning, looking down to the floor.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Princess, I simply meant that I am a knight of the Kingsguard and-”

“Ser Criston, I know, I would never put you in a position to even question your oath let alone any imagining of you sullying it!” Your voice elevated a little in your hurry as you held out your hands and looked at him with wide eyes. He turned his gaze on you, some inexplicable expression on his face, and you blushed again, curling your hands against your chest and leaning against the wall once more. You trained your gaze on his feet. “I enjoy your company, and I respect you.” You watched him shuffle his feet a little. You were both quiet for a little while, letting the silence cover you like a soft blanket.

Criston’s hands tingled with the need to reach out and caress your face, his heart strained against his chest with the need to meet your own, to press your two bodies together and press your mouth to his and kiss you until he couldn’t breathe anymore and then keep kissing you.

You let your gaze trail all over his body, to the muscular shoulders hidden behind armour and the white cloak hanging from them. His neck seemed soft and blurred compared to the rest of him, and you wanted to reach up and caress the light dusting of a beard on his chin and cheeks. You wondered how coarse the hairs were. You wanted to kiss his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You wanted to know what the skin felt like under your lips.

“If it was a different world…” he trailed off, but you knew what was to come next regardless of him saying it or not.

“I know,” you whispered quietly, taking a deep, shuddering, breath in and wrapping the robe tighter around you and following it with your arms.

“I know,” he repeated back to you. You were both quiet again but the air felt a little heavier. You swallowed and closed your eyes.

“I would love to kiss you, right at this moment,” you whispered, eyes reopening slowly to look at him. His eyes were on the ground but his lips were parted just slightly. His breath was shallow and his hands clenched into fists at his side slowly. You felt like you were watching everything he did a second after it happened.

“I would love it if you kissed me, right at this moment,” his voice was low, gravelly, and you took a little step closer, a shuffle.

You wanted to reach out and touch his stomach, feel the muscles beneath the shirt. You wanted to touch his shoulders, feel them tense then release as you ran your fingers up them. You wanted to caress his neck and gently press your fingertips to his cheeks to see how plush they were.

Instead, you slowly made your way toward your chamber doors. When your shoulder was level with his, you looked at each other. His smile was so soft and warm, so kind and gentle, that you felt the tears begin to climb up behind your eyes. You looked back to your chamber doors and opened them just as quietly as you had done before, slipping inside and closing it behind you. You looked around the room for a moment, unseeing, then walked all the way back to your side of the bed. You blew out the remaining candle and got under the sheets right on the edge so not even Daemon’s outstretched hand could touch you.

You and Ser Criston never spoke of that evening again. But sometimes, when everything was quiet and you were alone, you would look into his eyes, and know.

After the night he kissed you for the first time since the wedding, Daemon suddenly felt like his entire life was off-kilter. He could not escape thoughts of you. He could not escape memories of you.

At first he found himself sitting at the edge of the training pit, watching the gold cloaks spar as he awaited his turn, and all he could think of was the image of you in your wedding dress right after he had kissed you, blushing cheeks and cut lip smeared with spit and the mix of his blood and yours. As he took his midday meal in Rhaenyra’s solar across the table from her, he saw your frown as you told him you were still a maiden. As he flew on Caraxes on a hot afternoon, he saw the relief in your eyes as you lifted the strap of your shift back onto your shoulder.

He began to wonder about you, about your days and nights, about what books you enjoyed or the temperament of your dragon. Each day brought new questions about you that he pushed away because they were unnecessary and only served to drive him mad.

He noticed himself noticing you. His ears would perk up if he heard your voice somewhere in the distance, and something in his chest would jump a little. Your perfume lingered in the library after your visits, and if he happened to visit at just the right time, traces of it would gently touch his nose and his stomach would suddenly feel warm. Each time he entered your room for your fortnightly fucking, he found himself dallying longer and longer before and after, simply to gaze at your belongings and learn about you.

Slowly, it became an irrepressible infatuation. He would watch you from the terraces and balconies around the Red Keep as you sat in the various courtyards, admiring your hair and your dress, jealous of the sun for being able to touch you so reverently in a way he never could. He would dab your perfume on his handkerchief and keep it securely tucked in his pocket, pulling it out and pressing it to his nose in the quiet of his room on the other side of the Keep. He had even had one of the tapestries you had done removed from the halls of the Keep and hung on the wall across from his bed. He was lost in you.

In this new daze, he had abandoned his trysts with Rhaenyra and had been shocked to find he did not care when she took a new lover. She had asked after his sudden disinterest, why he no longer visited her in the evenings or ate his lunch in her company. He hadn’t had an answer ready to give.

In this time, he had also grown aware of Criston Cole’s infatuation with you. He had already thought it odd that the knight had abandoned being the Queen’s lapdog for the forgotten princess, but he had assumed that Alicent had ordered him to and was simply enacting another of her many schemes. He had even scoffed at the idea, laughing to himself that Alicent would gain nothing over him for he was only a husband in name.

But after all the time he spent watching you, he could see how truly devoted to you the knight had become. He stood as close to you as was appropriate for a knight and not an inch farther. He held your projects or piles of books as he walked beside you, refusing you from taking any load from his arms. If you ever had a request, he forced whichever servant was closest to complete it in an instant so he could fulfil it without leaving your company.

And he was always looking at you. Sometimes when Daemon watched you in the courtyard with Cole, the knight never removed his eyes from you for a second. You would turn your face up to smile at him and he would already be looking at you. You would return to the book and his eyes would still be on your face.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was looking at you, though, it was the way the knight watched you. He always had this warm little expression on his face, his eyes a little wide and shiny and full of awe. His mouth was always gentler in those moments, lips softened and hinting at a smile. He seemed entirely at peace in your presence.

And as Daemon watched you more and more, he realised the knight’s infatuation with you was returned. You were chatty around him, spilling your thoughts or asking him questions. You read aloud to him, made him little gifts of handkerchiefs or embellishments on his cloak that he always refused at first before relenting when you claimed you would be thoroughly upset if he continued to deny you. Your embroidery featured motifs of white knights more and more and you smiled at Criston in a way he wasn’t sure you had ever smiled at anyone else. It made him angry. Angry in a way that could only be soothed by hacking at a straw dummy in the training yard with Dark Sister until the thing had to be replaced.

When Daemon found you, you were sitting at your writing desk with a parchment in front of you, quill raised as you bit your lip and formed the words in your head. His chest was heaving despite him not having run. The sunshine falling over the desk from the window behind you made you look like a spirit from the stories, all your edges glowing and a shadowy haziness draping your face. He walked right up to the desk, cupped your face in both his hands and kissed you on the mouth.

It was firm, insistent, his mouth moving and pressing yours open while your mind tried to catch up with the sudden events, your quill dripping ink onto the table where you still had your hand raised. You pulled away after a moment, a frown creasing your brow and lips parted for a moment. You licked them, pressing them together as you swallowed and turned back to face the desk. Your eyes roamed over the little trinkets as if they had not been there before. Then you turned to look at Daemon again.

He was standing above you, dazed as he gently touched his thumb to his lower lip. He looked bedraggled. Some of his hair had been pulled back into little braids to keep it from his face, his battle hair, but some of it curled with his sweat and other strands had been pulled out as if he had forgotten about the braids and had begun pulling at his hair in frustration. He was only wearing his training tunic, and there were mud stains on his pants and you guessed he had come straight here from the training grounds.

He was staring at you now, eyes blazing and you shuffled back a little in case he tried to kiss you again. Kissing him was nice, it had never not been at least somewhat pleasant, but you didn’t care for it anymore. He leaned down again but you closed your eyes and leaned back further, holding your hand over your lips. A frown slashed his brow and he gripped the back of your chair tightly. You feared it would crack under the pressure.

“You would deny your husband?” He spat, and you flinched, curling a little inward as if a pang of pain had hit you in the chest. “Do you deny Cole when you are a whore for him?” And your eyes snapped up to look into his. He was seething, you could practically see the fires of rage behind his eyes. Your own began to fill with tears and he stood up again, taking a step back. His face fell a little as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. He could hear it shudder through your open mouth, saw the quiver of your chest. If you began to cry he wasn’t sure what he would do.

But then you pressed your lips together, so tight they went white, and opened your eyes. They were no longer filled with tears. You stood up, brushing down the skirt of your dress. You ensured it fell around your waist correctly before clasping your hands together over your stomach and finally looking up at him again.

“I know you do not love me,” your voice was quiet but steady, and he opened his mouth to speak, to rebuke, but no sound came out. “It is alright,” and for the first time since that fateful day, you felt it truly was. Then your eyes hardened a little, almost imperceptibly. “You are not angry because you love me, or you feel denied by your wife. You are angry simply because you feel that something you possess may be eyed by another.” Then your eyes returned to their usual gentleness, your hands loosened against each other and your entire body seemed to release a little. “But do not worry, husband. Since I was a little girl it has been ingrained upon me that marriage is sacred. One must treat it with the utmost respect, cherish it, protect it with their own actions.” You held your hands to your heart like you were cupping the very notion of marriage against your breast. “I would never dream of defiling its sanctity.” You bowed your head and breezed out of the room before he could even attempt to open his mouth.

For a long time after, Daemon wondered if you knew of his long ago trysts with Rhaenyra. Though you had not said the words with any sort of obvious insinuation or spite, fear and guilt churned in his gut until he had to sit down and press his palms to his eyes. All he could ask himself was ‘did you know?’, all he could feel was shame and regret.

He didn’t want you to know. He wanted to take everything back, starting with your marriage. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and cherish you as you deserved. He wanted to spend his hours on his knees in supplication to you. He wanted to follow you around like a dog chasing its master if only you would glimpse at him with that little loving smile you reserved for so few people and press a gentle kiss to his face. He wanted your love. And somehow, he thought as he sat on the floor of his room, back leaning against the side of his bed, I have lost it before I even knew I wanted it.

Daemon spent much of his life in the aftermath trying to win you back, and it somehow made everything worse. You were always the perfect image of a wife. If he brought you flowers, you thanked him gently, sincerely, then handed them off to a maid to have them put in water. If he brought you jewellery, you caressed it and put it on in that instant, asking him how it looked on you. He only ever had one answer, ‘radiant, my love,’ and you would smile at his reflection in the mirror before gently taking it off and putting it in your jewellery box. If he found fabrics from all corners of the world and had them brought to you for your dresses, you kissed his cheek in thanks, then asked the tailor to create something for you, never your own design. You wore them in front of him, showed him that his gifts were used, and once he had torn them off in his vigour to fuck you, you folded up the dresses and put them in the back of your wardrobe.

When the gifts elicited nothing more than politeness, he began spending more time with you, hoping you would somehow see his devotion, see a reason to love him. He would find you just before you went to eat your midday meal with Alicent and instead guide you to a picnic in the Godswood. He would bring one of his many books on the Targaryen histories and settle himself down next to you in one of the courtyards. He would lay beside you in your bed after he finished inside you, cheek pressed into the pillow as he watched you until you fell asleep.

Each attempt had entirely the opposite effect to his wishes. Though you never changed outwardly, never made him feel unwelcome or told him to leave, he could sense how much you preferred to be without his presence.

And you never acknowledged Criston Cole in his presence. Whether from some deep seated propriety that refused to offend your husband or insult him in the company of others. Whether from some embarrassment that whatever feelings you held for the knight would be so easily displayed from simple conversation, he knew not. But it made everything even worse.

You spoke not to Criston, which meant you didn’t speak to him either unless he tried to start a conversation. The silence would become suffocating to the point he would sweat through his clothes. You would be oblivious, sitting there humming or simply gazing upon your book or embroidery or letters. And he would be tortured watching you sit under the watchful eye of your knight, not saying a word.

Each time he returned, he tried to outlast himself, outlast the silence. And each time he failed. It would be five minutes, ten minutes at most, before he stood up and walked out of the door without a goodbye, and somehow he knew that you didn’t bother looking up as he left.

These little communions were often followed by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and embarrassment. With every failed attempt, every time he fled, he thought he could see Criston Cole’s smug smile. He thought the knight’s secret satisfaction in your favour of him suddenly became apparent on his face and in his gait, that the fool was mocking him for not being able to win his wife’s love while he held it freely in the palm of his hand.

And then he found a slow decline into shame as he sat in the ruins of whatever furniture or ornaments he had destroyed in that bout. Vases of porcelain were left in shattered little pieces when he thought about the way you looked up at Cole like he hung the stars in the sky. End tables of oakwood were left in splinters as he imagined Cole whispering lovingly in your ears. And each time he sat in the wake, staring at his hands as they bled due to his carelessness, and he prayed to the old gods and the new, asking for your forgiveness.

The cycle never ended, because however much he tried, however much he inserted himself in your life, you seemed forever content to play your part as a dutiful wife while simultaneously withholding the only thing he wanted from you now. Any other man would not complain about being married to you. They would be ecstatic that no matter how much debauchery they committed, however many whores they fucked and taverns they inhabited, their wife still demurely welcomed them home, ensured their needs were always met, and never deigned to bother them. He hated it with every fibre of his being.

He wanted you to scream and hit him in the chest in your anger, to call him names and loathe him. He wanted you to glare at him in bed and refuse his kisses. He wanted you to hate him, because if he could make you hate him, he could make you love him too. He could turn those screams and punches into laughs and loving caresses. He could turn the names and loathing into soft words and adoration. He could turn the glare in bed into a soft look of relaxation as you lay your head on his chest and hummed in comfort. He could turn the refused kisses into begs for more. He often thought he was descending into madness.

Some months later, after everything in the world had jumbled itself around and left Daemon adrift, useless and hopeless to the point of self-loathing, he found himself watching you in the gardens from one of the balconies above the south courtyard.

When Daemon looked at you, he felt his chest begin to fill with something thick and painful. It was liquefied stone crushing each of his organs, it was hot syrup drowning his lungs. Your smile was sad and gentle as you ran your fingers over the embroidery you had just finished.

To know he was filled to the brim with love for you and you had nothing more than indifference to offer him now was already a kind of crippling pain he now had to endure. To know he had broken your heart long before he had even cared for it was another. But to live for the rest of his life knowing he had trapped you, that it was the devotion and loyalty you gave him unconditionally simply because you were married to him, that your marriage to him was the sole reason you would never be happy… That was the worst pain of all.

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