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aerynwrites · 5 months

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Mistaken Identity

Halsin x fem!Reader

A/N: based on this request. this was such a cute idea! I hope you all enjoy! :3

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: none - just pure fluff

The forest is peaceful today, not that it isn't usually peaceful in your little part of the woods. But today feels…different somehow.

It’s just like any other day you’ve had since you settled down in your cottage in the middle of nowhere, desperate to get away from the cities and towns and the bustle of people. You tended your garden earlier in the morning to avoid the worst of the day's heat, and now you’re checking your hunting traps, this trip already proving more fruitful than the ones in recent days.

You’re working on checking your fourth and last trap, a large rabbit caught in your snare when you hear the faint shuffling of leaves, followed by the snapping of twigs. You stand upright, rabbit in your hand as you turn in a circle, eyes trying to find the source of the sound.

You’re not an expert on the natural world just yet, but whatever is approaching sounds larger than you're ready to deal with. You quickly tuck the small animal into your pack, muttering a quick prayer for its soul before moving to go back the way you came. You’re just coming out of the small clearing when you come face to face with the largest cave bear you’ve ever seen.

It’s massive. It’s head nearly level with your own as you both freeze in your tracks. Fear courses through you, making your heart pound as blood rushes in your ears. Any and all advice on what to do when encountering a bear has left your mind frustratingly blank, only allowing you to watch the creature in wide eyed terror as you opt to stay completely still.

It doesn’t attack you immediately which you take as a good sign, but it does raise its head slightly, nose twitching as it sniffs and huffs at the air before lowering it’s head and taking a few steps towards you. You want to take a step back as it moves closer, but you find yourself rooted to the spot as the bear approaches you, nose sniffing curiously at the bag slung over your shoulder.

Your hunting bag.

“Oh…” you let out a shaky sigh, as you pull the bag off and set it on the ground slowly, revealing the contents of it to the bear. If this is what it’s after, maybe you can slip away as it eats your kills.

“It’s rabbit…a few good juicy ones,” you say, finding yourself calming ever so slightly as you speak to the bear.

He continues to sniff at the bag before letting out a disinterested huff, nosing it back towards you.

Is he…letting you have it back?

Cautiously you reach down to pick up the bag once again, slinging it over your shoulder when the bear makes no sudden moves.

“Thank you…” you trail off, feeling silly for thanking a bear who can’t understand you.

Before you can question the odd situation you find yourself in, it gets even more odd. The bear approaches you again, but this time he presses his nose into the crook of your neck, his wet nose cold against your skin and causing you to shriek as you scramble away - both from surprise and fear.

He doesn’t chase after you like you thought he would, instead the bear lets out a small huff and tilts his head to the side, as if considering you. You decide to take that moment to make your retreat, before he can consider you long enough to make you his lunch.

You back away from the creature slowly, planning to just keep going until you're out of sight. But before you can get very far the creature lets out another chuff and turns away from you to head deeper into the forest. You stop as you watch him disappear into the foliage, and can’t help the curiosity that courses through you.

What an odd bear.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

If you’d thought that would be the only encounter with the unusually docile bear, you were wrong. It seemed like almost any time you left the immediate area around your small cottage you would stumble upon the bear.

At first you were still hesitant. Still very aware that this is a wild animal very capable of killing you. But as days turned into week, and weeks turned into months…the large bear became a pleasant constant in your life. Pretty much your only friend out in this isolated part of the woods.

You’re thick as thieves, the two of you. He’d always be near when you were preparing your kills, happily eating whatever you discarded. But you noticed he had a certain fondness for the fruits in your garden and the honey from your hives rather than the meat you prepared, so you’d started to grow a little extra just for him.

You’ve started to notice he’s present in your days more often than not, lumbering beside you wherever you go and staying near if you stop. He also loves to be pet - something you find quite endearing. The day he practically rolled over when you scratched behind his ears was the day you hoped he’d never go far.

And he’s a very good listener. Even if he’s not much of a conversationalist - you can’t seem to shake the odd feeling that he understands you. You don’t ever feel like you have much to say, but your occasional trips to nearby villages offer some conversation and it’s like your bear companion would huff or growl or chortle at all the right moments. He rumbles in agreement if you ask him questions or growls if he seems upset…

In fact…the longer you spend around the unusual creature the more… human he starts to seem.

You shake your head at the thought as you weed your garden. You know it’s not possible, but the entire thing is just so out of the ordinary you suppose your mind can’t help but try to find explanations for it.

You tug at a particularly tough weed, pulling hard enough that when it comes free from the ground you fall back onto your hands.

“The weeds are particularly nasty this time of year.”

A surprised shout falls from your lips as you whip around to the source of the voice, stumbling quickly to your feet at the same moment.

You’re not used to visitors this far from the nearby towns, and you're certainly not used to large handsome eleven men looking at you from the other side of your fenced in garden.

The man holds his hands up placatingly, lips tilted up ever so slightly in a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you.”

You can’t stop the scoff you let you, hand clutching at the fabric over your chest.

“Well, you certainly have an odd way of showing it,” you chastise lightly, still wary of the stranger.

He bows his head in apology, one hand coming up to rest over his heart. “My apologies again. I tried knocking on your door but no one answered…”

“So you came to snoop around in my backyard?” You ask, brows raised as your arms cross over your chest.

The man lets out a small laugh, and you try to ignore the fluttering feeling it produces in your belly.

“It would seem that way, yes,” he says, voice light. “But in truth I only wanted to introduce myself. My name is Halsin, I’m an archdruid in the grove just down the road from the abandoned village.”

An image flashes in your mind, of a wooden door partially hidden by foliage. You passed it when you would travel to a town several hours away. You’d once tried to investigate the area only to be warned off by a few druids at the top of the wall.

You’d made a point to stay away since then.

You shift on your feet slightly, a sudden anxiety flaring up in your chest at the presence of someone like an archdruid seeking you out. Are you on their land somehow? Have they come to run you off after you’ve just started to build a life for yourself here?

Halsin must notice your shift in demeanor, as he holds his hands out towards you in a calm manner.

“I did not come to disturb you,” he promises. “Only to open the gates of the grove to you. It has been many years since people other than ourselves have made this land home.”

You finally take a few tentative steps forward. Hands falling to your sides. “I didn’t get a very warm welcome when I stumbled upon your… grove, the first time.”

Halsin’s lips fall slightly at that. “Yes, some of the others are more wary of outsiders,” he admits. “But nature connects all living creatures. I only came to make the offer in an effort to ease your time here. The grove is much closer than the nearest town, and we most likely have what you need if you’d ever like to trade.”

You’re stunned slightly by his offer. It takes you almost an entire day to get to the closet trading town. The grove he speaks of is much closer, less than an hour's walk from your home. You'd be a fool to turn down the offer. So, with a small nod of your head you accept.

“That would be…wonderful,” you admit, noticing the smile returning to the Druid's lips. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Halsin says, his eyes turning to the sky. “I must be going. If you wish to enter the grove just tell them I paid you a visit and offered you sanctuary, they will let you pass.”

You nod once again, and Halsin turns wishing you farewell, your name falling sweetly from his lips.

It’s only when he’s out of sight do you realize you never gave him your name.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

The next few weeks pass in a surprisingly blissful and giddy blur.

You took Halsin up on his offer to visit the grove, and true to his word you were let in without much fuss, the arch druid himself waiting when you entered. He introduced you to one of the druids who was the main trading hub in the grove as well as the healer Nettie in case you ever needed anything in that regard.

You had expected the tour to stop there as he left you to your devices, but he continued to show you the grove, his home and his favorite things about it.

You visited often after that, always under the guise of visiting to trade or buy but secretly using the trips as an excuse to see Halsin. The man has grown on you, and more often than not, you find your thoughts drifting to him as butterflies erupt in your chest.

With each encounter you think you find him returning your small flirtations. A teasing comment here, a hand on your back there.

On your most recent trip to the grove, Halsin had shown you a secret little alcove tucked away from the more busy parts of the small colony. It overlooked the river and you could tell Halsin spent much time here by the small bedroll tucked neatly against a large rock and the small pouches of provisions.

You’d both snacked on dried meat and fresh fruit as he told you stories from his youth, laughter ringing out in the small clearing at the more mischievous adventures he’d had.

You’d just popped an apple slice drizzled in honey into your mouth when Halsin turned to look at you, eyes dipping down to your lips.

You’d paused, chewing the bite quickly before swallowing. “What? Have I got something on my face?” You ask, brows furrowed.

Halsin didn’t respond at first, and it was in that deafening silence that you realized just how close you two were sitting. At this angle, with Halsin looking down at you, your noses are mere inches from another and you can feel his breath ghosting gently over your cheek.

He slowly reached a hand up, resting it against your cheek as his thumb wiped gently at the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted slightly at the action, and Halsin leaned just that much closer, his lips just barely brushing yours when a distant call of his name snapped you both back to reality.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you flop back onto the furry heap behind you, ignoring the annoyed huff your companion lets out. “He was going to kiss me!” You say, exasperated. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. If we hadn’t been interrupted…”

You sigh as you sit up and turn to look at the bear who has become one of your closest companions. He’s been more absent as of late, and at first you had thought it was because you’ve been at the grove more often and you just haven’t been around to see him. Something that made you feel bad at first.

But even on the days you weren’t at the grove, your companion was nowhere to be found, even despite the bowls of fruit and honey you’d leave for him.

Today is the first day you’d seen him in days, and it was just in time for him to listen to you rant about the elf you’ve fallen head over heels for. Though, he doesn’t seem to mind. You move so you’re able to wrap your arms around the big bear's neck, your face resting just behind his head as you lay against him.

“I…I like him a lot,” you admit.

You know the bear can’t understand you. You know it’s foolish to talk to an animal. But you can’t help but talk to someone about how you feel. You can’t exactly talk to Halsin about this considering he’s the subject of your thoughts.

The bear seems to still beneath you as you continue, as if listening intently to your words.

“He’s so kind,” you continue. “He allowed me into his home and shared so much with me despite not knowing who I was. And he’s funny too,” you let out a small laugh at that, heat rushing to your face. “And handsome…”

You sigh and shake your head. “I feel like some people might find him intimidating or rugged in a bad way if they just saw him and never talked to him but…I think he’s beautiful. His smile is so captivating, and anytime I look at him I want to reach up and trace his scars before finally, finally kissing him…”

You huff, pulling away from your furry friend only to find bright hazel eyes already on you. “Listen to me,” you chastise. “Talking to a bear about my silly crush.” You smile and reach up to ruffle the bear's ears gently. “At least you’re a good listener.”

You move to stand, the bear doing the same, his nose nuzzling at your hand as if begging you to stay.

“I know, I know,” you say softly. “I haven’t been around as much. But I have to get ready. I…I invited Halsin over for dinner tonight,” you tell him, smiling when he gives a small groan of what you assume to be encouragement. “I promise tomorrow I will have the biggest bowl of fruit and honey you could ever eat. As a sorry gift.”

The bear huffs at this before sitting down and plopping back to the forest floor, resting his head on his paws. You smile and ruffle the fur on his head one last time before heading home.

You have a druid to impress.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

The knock to your door comes just as you’re about to finish off the meal you’ve prepared. You roasted some fish you caught in the nearby river and paired with vegetables from your garden, and even a loaf of fresh bread you managed to scrounge up.

You silently tamp down the anxiety building in your chest as you rush to the door, wiping your hands on your apron before opening it to greet the tall druid on the other side.

Halsin smiles down at you from the threshold, eyes twinkling as he gazes at you. “Hard at work, I see.”

You furrow your brows at his greeting, and Halsin takes the moment of confusion to reach up and wipe a thumb gently across your cheek. It’s then that you register the flour on your cheeks, heat rushing to your face as you reach up to try and wipe away any excess when he drops his hand.

“Oh that,” you laugh. “It’s probably from the bread. I just finished getting everything ready if you want to come in,” you say, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter.

He smiles warmly at you, accepting your invitation before closing the door behind him. He then reveals a wine bottle he’s had in his hand, offering it out to you.

“A gift for a most gracious host,” he says in a way of explanation. “Though I must admit it is nothing as elaborate as you’d find in the cities…It’s still better than nothing.”

Your lips tilt upward at the kind gesture, and you reach out to take the bottle. “I’m sure it’s lovely, oh-” your eyes widen as you take in the pale color of the wine inside. “And it’s a white wine…That’s perfect for the meal, white always pairs wonderfully with fish.”

You let out a soft laugh as you turn the bottle in your hands before looking up at Halsin once more. “It’s like you read my mind.”

A flash of… something flickers in his eyes at your words, his lips twitching downwards ever so slightly. “Something of that nature, I suppose.”

You quickly shrug off your momentary observation, moving instead to take off your apron and wash your hands before serving dinner. You also take this moment to run a damp rag over your face when Halsin isn’t looking, clearing away any more unwanted blemishes.

Once you’re through, Halsin helps you carry the various plates and bowls to the table, eyes widening slightly when they land on the flaky fish steaming on one of the large plates.

You set a plate in front of him as he takes his seat, speaking before you can stop yourself. “I chose fish because I wasn’t sure if you ate… meat,” you scrunch your nose. “Although now that feels silly considering fish is a type of meat-”

Halsin cuts off your worried rambling by reaching out to place his hand over your own where it rests on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s wonderful,” he assures you, withdrawing his hand with an amused sparkle in his eye. “And I can assure you that meat is a part of our diet,” he teases. “Though I could see why one may think it would not be. Death is a part of life in nature, creatures passing in order to provide for another.”

You nod, relief washing over your anxiety. “Yes, of course. That makes more sense I suppose,” you say before gesturing to the food steaming before you. “Well, help yourself. We don’t want it to get cold.”

Halsin smiles and obliges your invitation, but instead of serving himself he moves to serve you first.

“Oh!” You say, instantly reaching out to stop him. “You don’t have to do that, you’re the guest you should eat first-“

“I insist,” Halsin interrupts, already moving to place a piece of fish onto your plate. “You took the time to cook and invite me into your home. The least I can do is serve you before myself.”

After a moment of hesitation you acquiesce, smiling as you sit back in your chair while he finishes dishing out your meal to you and then himself.

Once the food is plated, the night moves much quicker than you would have liked, conversation flowing easier than you ever anticipated. Talks of what’s been happening in the grove to what you’ve recently planted in your garden to everything in between.

Halsin tells you of his childhood and the adventures he’s been on and you tell him of your life growing up in the city to what led you here to your own little slice of wilderness. It’s only when your plates are empty, bellies are full and the mess cleaned up does Halsin suggest a walk.

You eagerly agree, following his lead out of your small home and into the forest now blanketed in faint orange light due to the setting sun. Halsin seems to have a specific place in mind, taking your hand in his own as he leads you through the woods.

You can’t stop the smile as he laces his fingers with yours.

“So, do you have a specific place in mind?” you ask.

Halsin smiles. “I do, it’s a place of great importance to me, and one of my favorite places of solace in the forest.”

Your brows wing up in surprise as you look up at him. “What makes this place so important?”

“I…” he trails off for a moment, “I met someone very special to me there.”

You nod, your curiosity piqued even more at this information. Who could he have met there? And why was he sharing it with you?

You don’t have time to voice your questions though, as Halsin’s steps start to slow just as you enter an all too familiar clearing off the bank of the river. It’s the very same clearing where you met your bear friend, and where you often come to sit with the large creature. You were here just this morning.

Halsin must sense your familiarity with the space, because he gives your hand a small squeeze. “You know this place?”

You nod, lips tilting upwards fondly. “Yeah I…” you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “You’re going to think I'm crazy but…I’ve actually befriended a bear that I think lives in the woods. This is where we end up a lot of the time.”

“A bear, you say?” he asks, voice lacking the surprise you expected to hear.

You turn to face Halsin, that feeling of familiarity that you had when you first met him tugging at your mind. “Halsin…why did you bring me here?”

The druid lets out a small sigh. “I will be honest that I had a plan in mind when I brought you here,” he begins, turning to face you as he takes both of your hands in his own.

“My life has been a long one, and I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly, especially as the years pass me by…” slowly, he reaches up to cup your cheek. “But it does now. I feel more for you than I have in centuries. But there is something I must tell you.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as Halsin speaks. He’s confessing to you, telling you the one thing you;ve yearned to hear for weeks now. Yet, you can’t help the anxiety that roils in your belly. What could he possibly have to tell you?

“I…I feel the same way,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. “You can tell me anything.”

Halsin smiles, but you can’t help but notice the slightly guilty look on his face as he does so. “I only hope you feel the same after I reveal what I must. I’ve come to care for you, deeply - but even I know no relationship can be built on lies.”

Halsin pulls away from you then, and your anxiety skyrockets. But before you can question him, a burst of light blinds you, leaves and grass exploding in the space where Halsin was and leaving behind a -

Bear?

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they do, your heart leaps into your throat. Halsin just turned into a bear - something you knew was possible among druids but…

He didn’t just turn into a bear. He turned into your bear. The bear you’ve spent months feeding and befriending. The bear you’ve spent nights talking to about anything and everything.

Including Halsin.

You’ve been talking to Halsin about Halsin. About your feeling for him, about that day he almost kissed you before getting interrupted.

“Oh my gods… ” You gasp, one hand coming up to cover your mouth. “You - You’re the bear. The bear I've been - that means…” you let out an embarrassed groan, covering your eyes as you hope for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“You heard me this morning! ”

You hear another burst of magic, and then two warm calloused hands are wrapping around your wrists, pulling your hands from your burning face as you look up at Halsin in his human form once more.

“It was not my intention to deceive you,” he says softly, eyes full of regret. “When I first stumbled upon you that day all those months ago it was my intention to avoid this area of the forest after that, but…” he sighs. “Something about you called to me. Your kindness, your lack of fear around the bear of whom so many are afraid. It is…rare for me to be able to be my full self around others. Most people want the man and tremble at the bear, but it is just as a part of me as this is.”

He sighs again, eyes falling away from yours as he takes a step back from you, dropping your hands. “I…understand if this turns you away. It was a deception, despite my intentions never being malicious.”

You watch him silently for a moment, letting the information sink in. despite what most people may feel, you find yourself lacking any of the anger you expected. Instead all that comes out of you is a laugh, a laugh that turns into a long string of bubbling laughter.

Halsin seems surprised by your reaction, and when you finally manage to compose yourself you step forward and take his hands in yours again, lips split into a smile.

“So, that means you heard what I said this morning? About the day you almost kissed me?” you ask, voice soft.

At the reminder of your earlier conversation, Halsin smiles again, cheeks tinged with a barely there blush. “I do.”

“Will you kiss me now?” you ask boldly.

Halsin chuckles, eyes sparkling with delight. “It would be my pleasure.”

Then his lips are on yours.

It’s just as you imagined it, his lips soft and gentle against your own despite his size. His hands move to rest against your hips, squeezing as he moves to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue run along the seam of your lips, and you eagerly let him in, unable to stop a whimper as he enters your mouth.

He tastes like the tart wine you had with dinner and something you can only identify as him. It's heady and soft all at the same time, and you find yourself craving more of it, more of him.

Your arms slide up to wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours just as he pulls away from your lips. His chest heaves, his breaths puffing against your cheek as he looks down at you.

“You truly are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush a kiss against your cheek. “Inside and out. Silvanus has blessed me, this day.”

You smile. “And hopefully for more days to come.”

Pressing a quick kiss to your lips, Halsin wraps his arms around your waist. “I would have you for as many days as you’d allow. Man or bear.”

You giggle at that. “Why not both?”

A deep laugh escapes the man before you and he spins you happily in the air before taking you both gently to the forest floor, the grass blessedly cool through your clothes as he comes to hover over you.

“You shall have me however you desire, my heart,” he says, before leaning down to kiss you once more.

You happily reciprocate, hands reaching up to thread through his hair. And as you lay amongst the grass beneath the setting sun…you couldn’t be happier you’d met a bear.

#halsin x reader #halsin bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #halsin #bg3 halsin

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whore-ibly-hot · 8 months

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Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #tw.cheating #tw.dubcon #tw.angst #yandere boss #yandere ceo #oc Morgan #fem reader

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alwaysshallow · 7 months

Text

— gorgeous, part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)

AO3 version

A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3

next part

The first time you see him? It is a wild one.

You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?

First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:

a) he actually had a fish tank,

b) if he had some fish in it.

The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer. 4 hours longer, but who count that, right? There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet. Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?

"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.

His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.

You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.

"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.

"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."

He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.

You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.

As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.

Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.

"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."

"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.

Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.

"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.

"Who said I won't?"

As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...

"So, you will?"

"Mhm."

You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.

It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.

"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"

Again, no response, just a simple nod.

Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.

Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.

Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.

And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.

At least a few words more.

"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.

Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.

"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."

He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.

You expected some questions, though. Anything. "Questions?" "Not really" he said, glancing at you.

"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner. "I can stand."

So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.

"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.

Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.

"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.

"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.

It seemed almost done.

"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."

You chuckled, amused. "Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."

He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.

Hell, what was that in him?

"Is adress necessary?"

"Not really, no."

You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.

Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.

"Name?" you looked at him.

"Simon Harris."

It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.

"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.

"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.

Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.

You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.

Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.

And because of other things that you'd like to forget.

"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?

You wanted to see his face, badly.

"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"

Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.

"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."

He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation. "Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."

"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."

And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #cod mwii #cod fanfic #simon riley x you #call of duty #imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #ghost call of duty

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lassieposting · 1 year

Text

anyway jaskier is like. basically the human equivalent of those wild animals someone feeds who've lost all fear of people and now just break into houses to eat out of the trash and chill in the pool

he's been travelling with a witcher since he was 18. he has zero fear of any of them. he associates witchers with Having Things Done For Him and Being Provided For and Give Love. he has no reservations whatsoever about going up to any random witcher he happens to pass when geralt isn't around and asking them to help him with something or do something for him or just. trailing after them for a while because he knows if he whines perfectly on pitch they'll hunt his dinner and store his shit in their horse's saddlebags and keep him safe on the road, even if they're grumpy about it. at kaer morhen he is like the stray cat geralt fed one time and now everyone is just like "well he lives here now i guess". it just Does Not Occur to him that he might ever be in danger with a witcher around. this is a man who finds things lying around in the kaer morhen lab and just fucking. eats them

anyway. those "please do not feed the animals it teaches them to approach people" signs but. for jaskier and the oxenfurt students who start trying to imitate him and adopt a witcher

#the witcher #jaskier #netflix witcher #it's a toss-up between witchers who are like 'ffs geralt this is why we don't encourage human attachments'#and the ones who are like 'it's free bard'#geraskier #witchersexual jaskier

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sluttywoozi · 10 months

Text

Ditto | mingi x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k

You've liked Mingi for a while now, but every time you try to hang out one on one, it turns into a group thing. Will you be able to act normal now that you've finally gotten him alone?

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of making out, mingi likes to bite, fingering, oral f. rec., condomless sex, mention of birth control shot and sti testing, big dick mingi

Reader Notes: has breasts and vagina, hands are smaller than mingi’s

You sit next to Mingi on your couch, anime playing on the TV and a respectable amount of space between you, and do your best to pretend that this is normal, that everything is normal.

It’s not that you don’t like him or know him well enough to be alone with him, it’s that you both like and know him far too well. But unfortunately, all of the time you’ve ever spent with him has been in a group setting with at least one of his best friends present. You’ve been wanting to hang out one on one for months, basically since you and Mingi met, but you just couldn’t seem to make it happen.

You’d tried a few times too. The first attempt, you were grabbing drinks for the table together and you somehow worked brunch into the conversation, trying to invite him as subtly as you could. He caught on just as Jongho and Hongjoong approached the bar to help carry everything and immediately invited them along. You didn’t even have time to feel the consternation before he was beaming at you with excitement and melting your heart.

The second attempt had gone a bit better, with just Yunho tagging along to what you thought was a pasta date for two. Your small success came at the price of the sympathetic knowing look Yunho sent you when you deflated at the sight of him.

The third was the most disastrous and, dare you say, heartbreaking. You texted him to remind him that the new drama he’d been looking forward to finally dropped on Netflix and he, to your awe, responded asking if you wanted to go over to his place and binge it together.

You weren’t sure if it was a date but you looked forward to it all week nonetheless, rushing home from work to carefully select an outfit that was cute, comfortable, and easy to remove before making his favorite snack and speeding over to his apartment with the glass container steaming in your passenger seat. He’d seemed so excited to see you, grabbing your hand to pull you into his kitchen and presenting your own favorite food, plus a couple of beers, plates, and utensils.

You were well into episode two when a knock sounded on his front door. Mingi shrugged in response to the question on your face, seemingly just as clueless as you, and had barely unlocked the door before San and Wooyoung tumbled inside. Apparently, he’d mentioned your plans to them in passing and they’d taken it as an invitation.

This time was a fluke, a wild stroke of luck, a blessing from the horny and in love gods themselves. It was the reverse of what usually happened - a group hangout that became just you and Mingi after the rest of your friends had come down with something. You have a sneaking suspicion that ‘something’ is actually Yunho trying to do you a favor, and resolve to reward him with his favorite ice cream asap.

You glance over at Mingi surreptitiously, expecting his focus to be on the movie and hoping you’ll be able to fully take in his new hair, only to find his gaze centered on you. Your eyes widen and your shoulders bunch up, unused to having his unwavering attention and alarmed by the fact that you have no clue how to deal with it.

You look away for as long as you can stand before letting your gaze dart back to him. He’s still staring at you, his face contemplative and more open than you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what else to do but stare back, nervously letting your eyes meet his and trying to relax your face enough that the worry lines go away. His face splits in a grin as soon as you make eye contact, his uneven front teeth and gummy smile sending your heart aflutter and making you beam in return.

“I’m really happy we got to do this. Honestly…,” Mingi trails off with a sigh, bringing one long leg up to rest on the couch as he shifts to face you instead of the TV. His arm rises to rest on the cushions behind your neck and you fight the shiver that snakes down your spine at the decrease of space between your bodies. He smells so good, too, and the heat radiating from him makes you want to crawl into his pocket and never leave. “I’ve wanted to hang out with just you for, like, months.”

His teeth sink into that plump bottom lip, almost distracting you too much to notice the tinge of nervousness behind his casual admission, and truthfully, you’re confused as hell. “Really?” You ask incredulously, rushing to continue when you see his face fall in hurt, “No, no, no, I’m glad you feel that way! I’m so glad, trust me. It’s just that I’ve been lowkey trying to make plans one on one since we met, and it’s never worked out. I was starting to think I should give up,” you finish with a self-deprecating shrug.

Mingi’s mouth drops open and his eyebrows raise, his disbelief clear though you can’t tell what other emotions are hiding beneath it. “Are you being fucking for real?” He almost sounds aggressive and if you hadn’t reacted the exact same way to him before, you’d probably get your feelings hurt too. As it is, you know he’s likely shocked and, if you dare to hope, happy. One side of your mouth lifts in a smile and you roll your eyes teasingly, “Yeah, Mingi, I’m being fucking for real. I wouldn’t lie about something so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” He sputters a bewildered laugh, “That’s, like, the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. I have the fattest crush on you.”

“You have…,” you try to gather your thoughts but there aren’t any to gather, just his words ringing in your head like a timer you can’t turn off.

I have the fattest crush on you. I have the fattest crush on you. Ihavethefattestcrushonyou. IhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrush-

“Yeah, babe, I have a crush on you. I have for a while. San and Wooyoung still fuck with me over how I blew up at them for crashing our Netflix date.”

“So it was a date!” You exclaim victoriously, bouncing in place on the couch and missing the fond, affectionate sparkle in Mingi’s eye. “Yeah, it was a date. And I had plans for that night, too,” Mingi sighs wistfully. “Plans? Like what?” You ask, breathless with all of the ideas racing through your head.

“Like… telling you how I feel. Maybe yawning and putting my arm around you. Maybe a kiss goodnight,” he says slowly, as if he’s nervous about your reaction.

“Mingi, honestly, you could have kissed me hello and I’d have been over the moon,” you respond, promising him with your eyes and a pinky hooked around his.

“So, if I were to kiss you now…,” he begins, inching forward.

“I would kiss you back,” you assure him, heart on your sleeve and in your throat.

Mingi hums, leaning in closer and closer until his plush lips can touch yours, even the barest hint of contact making your heart pound. He doesn’t approach with much pressure, letting you lead and show him what you like, and you hum back, pressing your mouth harder against his. Your tongue peeks out to brush over his perfect bottom lip and his moan surprises you, makes you bite down on his plump flesh and start to suck. He just keeps moaning, his sounds vibrating through your lips and into your bones, the pitch low enough to reverberate. Already, you want him so bad. Want him around and inside and on top of you and under you and every which way you can get him.

You feel like maybe he wants you too, if the way he pulls you closer with one hand on your cheek and the other on your back says anything. The kiss deepens before you can take a breath, his lips pursing around your tongue so he can suck on it, bringing to mind ideas of other things his talented mouth could do. You don’t expect to experience them tonight, knowing that Mingi doesn’t date much and not wanting to push him beyond his comfort level, but damn is it nice to imagine. You’ve imagined lots of things with him, and this is already fulfilling a good number of them.

It’s not enough for Mingi, you find, as he tilts you backwards on the sofa until he can climb on top of you, the hand on your back shifting to your stomach. It hovers there, unsure, until you grab and pull it under your shirt, pressing his palm flat on your belly with a sigh. You make out for a while, just content to feel him (and his tongue) until he starts to seem a little restless.

“You can touch me, Mingi,” you sigh, arching into his hands and dragging the one on your stomach up to cover your breast. You’re only wearing a bralette and you know he can feel the shape of you, feel your nipple pebbling under his palm, but you like it, like the heavy breath he exhales against your lips, the seemingly involuntary twitch of his hand on you. They’re almost intoxicating, his reactions, every sigh and groan going straight to your center. He feels so big on top of you, like if his arms relaxed he could crush you, compress you straight into the couch, and you wonder when exactly Mingi got so fucking thick. He was already tall when you met him but he definitely wasn’t like this, though, obviously, you’re not complaining.

“Can I take this off?” He asks tentatively, rubbing the hem of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. Nodding, you sit up enough for him to tug it off, giggling when he throws it across the room with a flourish.

“You know you’re picking that up, right?”

“But of course, milady,” he says before cringing immediately and dropping his head into your chest with a groan, mumbling, “Milady? What the fuck is wrong with you, Mingi? You’re finally kissing her and you call her Milady, jesus fucking christ.”

His cheesiness only endears you to him more, as does his shame, so you pick his head up between your hands and plant one on him, kissing him until he seems to forget what he’d said. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and cupping your cheek in one of his big hands. You love how he gets so lost in kissing you, like it’s the main event and not the opener, and you just know that given the chance, you could get lost in him too.

That’s okay, though, because you trust Mingi. You’d trust him with your body, and your mind, and your heart. Well, you’ve already trusted him with your heart because you’re lowkey in love with him, but that’s beside the point. The point is that you trust Mingi enough to let yourself get lost in him, so you do. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until the sun has gone down and you can barely remember your own name.

At some point, you pull away for water and a bathroom break, but soon enough, you return to the couch to kiss him some more. You undo your bralette on your way back, leaving it on so he’s still the one to take it off. His eyes grow wide and he visibly swallows when he catches sight of you, and by the time you make it to the middle of the room, he’s there too, waiting for you. His hands rise to your shoulders, curving up your neck and coming to rest on your cheeks so he can pull you into a gentle kiss. You sigh into his mouth when his hands smooth back down your throat and catch on the straps, his fingers giving a soft tug, pulling the fabric down slowly.

He doesn’t look yet, just keeps kissing you and making the hottest little noises against your lips, and it’s not long before he’s ushering you onto the couch and helping you to lay on your back. He takes his place between your legs and glances upward to make sure he can use his mouth, kissing his way down your neck and across your chest before sucking a nipple between his lips as soon as you start to nod. He groans deep in his chest like the taste of you is something sweet, nibbles at your flesh and sucks in rhythmic pulses, leaving your breasts littered in little indents from his teeth.

Your head swims, the onslaught of pleasure leaving you breathless, dizzy. You don’t want to rush him but you’ve been wet for hours, and you know he’s been half hard most of the time. There’s only so long you can wait before you either need to stop or keep going, and you’re about to reach that point. He must be able to sense your restlessness because he pulls away with a pop, looking up at you with hazy eyes and swollen, shiny lips.

“What do you wanna do?” He asks, coming up to hover above you on his elbows.

“Everything,” you breathe in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to tug him into you.

You both shudder out a moan, his hips pressing into yours and his hard cock aligned perfectly with the ache between your legs. It feels like so much after so little, the pressure and heat of him, and it makes you buck up against him in search of more friction. His head drops into your neck, the whine he lets out muffled by your skin, and his own hips grind into yours, giving you what you so desperately need.

But it’s not enough, you need more.

“Mingi, do you wanna fuck me?”

He grinds into you again, harder this time, and you can feel the swears he mouths against your throat before he answers, “So fucking bad, baby. You’re all I can think about.”

You resist the urge to wiggle happily underneath him, your heart pounding even harder at the idea of Mingi thinking about you like this. You know you’ve been thinking about him, about having him, in your bed and in your shower and in your car and just about anywhere with a little privacy and at least one surface. You wonder if he’d be down for any of those, but figure your couch is a good enough start.

Pushing him just far enough away to get to your pants, you finish stripping. Mingi takes the hint, yanking off his shirt and shucking his sweats. His boxers go with them and you freeze in place, halfway through bicycling your underwear off and completely unprepared for what the sight of his dick would do to you.

You can feel yourself pulsing as you stare, Mingi taking charge of pulling your undies the rest of the way down and gasping at what he finds. You knew you were wet, but you don’t think either of you expected your panties to be sodden, basically translucent with how much you’ve been leaking. You’d be self conscious if Mingi didn’t look on the verge of tears, his brows screwed up and his eyes misty as he gazes at you. He sets one knee between your legs on the couch, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before whispering, “Can I eat you out? Please?”

Your whole body tenses in anticipation as you nod, letting him tug you to the edge of the couch and pull your legs apart. His hands feel so hot on you, his fingers clenching in your flesh, squeezing at the plush of your thighs just because he can. Another time, you’ll let him play with your body however long he likes but right now, you’re getting desperate.

He’s so close, his plump lips sucking kisses into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you need him to close that final distance, put his mouth to work between your thighs instead of on them.

“Mingi, I need-,”

He shoulders your legs further apart and leans forward, covering the whole of your pussy with his mouth and taking in a deep breath. Your thighs snap closed, boxing his head in, and you try to pull them apart and free him but his arms wrap around them and pull you closer to him. His face is buried in you now, his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue plunges inside of you, making your back arch and your heart stutter.

He groans and grumbles his way through you, the vibrations of his sounds sending you higher and higher. It’s like he can’t get enough, his head pushing deeper into your body and his eyes closed in rapture as he worships you. His agile tongue fucks in and out, spreading your walls and getting you ready for those long fingers.

You can’t wait to feel them inside you, feel them working you open and reaching depths his tongue can’t. You’re starting to feel achingly empty, but before you can even ask Mingi, he’s got two fingers primed at your entrance and his eyes on you. He notches a brow up and you nod quickly, chanting, “Yes, yes, yes,” and shivering when you feel them make contact.

They’re warm, longer than your own and thicker too. Normally, two would be a bit of a stretch to start but you’re soaking wet, relaxed from all of the foreplay to the foreplay, so they slide right in. He moans deeply, pressing his open mouth against your thigh and digging his teeth in as if to retaliate for how good your pussy feels around his fingers. You bite back a smirk and squeeze down around them, the contracting of your walls making them feel even bigger inside you.

Mingi looks up at you, his eyes shining and full of sincerity, and leans back in to close his lips around your clit and suck. Your reaction is instant, your pussy fluttering and your breath stuttering as he holds eye contact. You can’t look away, intoxicated by his movements and swiftly nearing the edge.

When he slides in one more finger and starts tonguing at your clit as he sucks it, you’re done for.

A flash of heat shoots through you, his arms anchoring you to the couch where you want to fly away, the coil in your belly tightening more and more until it bursts. Your walls clamp down on his digits, your hands flying to his head to pull him into you, making him whimper around your clit and suck harder as you cum.

You don’t know how long it goes on, just that Mingi never stops and you never want him to.

He easily pushes you into a second, a third, almost a fourth, before you clench your fingers in his hair and try to pull him up. He looks up at you with hazy eyes, his lips pink and swollen and shiny with your wetness.

“Wanna kiss you,” you mumble tiredly, pursing your lips and waiting for him to rise and grant you what you want.

He does, of course, getting to his feet and shaking out his legs before bracing a hand over you on the couch and leaning down to press his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on him but you don’t mind, like it even, the fact that there’s evidence of what he’s done to you. You’d like him to do more, but first you need to make sure he wants to.

“Do you still-,”

“God, yes,” he moans, nearly straddling you on the couch as he cups your jaw with his free hand and deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding against yours before his teeth close on your bottom lip.

“Condom?” He asks breathlessly, pulling away and sitting heavily on the couch. You take the hand he’s reached out to you, using it to steady yourself as you climb on top of him and respond, “Just got tested and I get the birth control shot, so…”

“Joong and Seonghwa took us all to get tested a couple weeks ago and everything was negative, so…”

“So, no condom.”

The thought of Mingi fucking you raw is enough to make your pussy start pulsing again, and you can tell he loves the idea too, his breaths coming faster and his hands growing possessive on you.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning down at his cock and waiting for him to nod before taking it in your hand. He’s hot to the touch, long and thick enough you’d need two hands to jerk him off, not that he needs it right now. He’s deliciously hard and already glistening with precum, and you feel the throbbing deepen, the emptiness inside you nearing pain.

“You gonna put me in?” He asks in a deep, soft voice as he rubs your thighs and squeezes your hips.

You angle his cock so you can slide it through your folds, the head bumping into your clit and making you jump before you roll your hips and notch it at your entrance. He lets you control the pace, his hands meandering over your breasts, stomach, and back as you start to work him inside.

“There we go, just like that, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, his grip getting tighter and tighter as you take more and more of him.

He spread you open on his fingers but it’s still a tight fit, gravity and determination pulling you down until your hips meet his and his cock sits fully inside you. You can’t speak, can’t keep your eyes open, the stretch so deep and your pussy so full you just might cry. You have no idea of Mingi’s reaction, can only hear the rapid filling and emptying of his lungs and the punched out noises that leave him every time you accidentally squeeze down. You have a feeling that if you could open your eyes, you’d find his clenched shut and his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

The image you conjure is hot enough it gives you the strength needed to force your eyelids apart and look at him, your gaze finding a near exact match to that of your imagination. His head is resting against the back of the couch, his jawline sharp and his veins popping, and you have a sneaking suspicion he’s trying not to cum right now.

You can’t blame him, it was hours of making out and then another hour of him making you cum, and he’s had barely any stimulation through all of that. You have half a mind to clamp your walls down on him, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until he breaks, but instead, you’ll give him the time he needs.

It takes a minute or two of you just sitting on his cock for him to calm, but when he does, he’s ready to go. He bucks into you one, two, three times before gripping your hips and opening his eyes, his gaze raw and his face slack.

“How do you feel so fucking good?” He asks like he means it, like he’s waiting for an answer. You don’t have one, so you just smile and roll your hips into him, your grin growing when his breath hitches.

He swears roughly, his dick jumping inside you and his grasp tightening as he responds with a thrust of his own, your call and answer soon growing into a true rhythm. Your head falls back as you bounce in his lap, your thighs shaking every time his cock fills you again, the slapping of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. One of his hands leaves your hips to cup the back of your neck and hold your head up, making you hold his gaze as you gasp and moan. You’ve never had so much eye contact during sex before, the connection usually feeling far too intimate and exposing, but you love having it with Mingi.

It feels like he’s burrowing deeper into your heart with every thrust, carving his name into it with every brush of his thumb under your ear, taking it for his own as he makes you his own, his cock reaching sensitive spots you didn’t know you had.

You think he might be going through the same thing because he tugs you closer until you’re chest to chest and he’s just grinding inside you, your air mixing with his and your walls massaging his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss that feels more like a promise and whisper against his lips, “Mingi, I really, really like you. Like a lot. Like probably too much.”

Your last word is broken by a sharp thrust, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he whines, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me-”

He cuts himself off with a low moan, his other hand leaving your hip so he can wrap his arm around you and hold you so tight you almost can’t breathe.

“Cum, Mingi,” you tell him, feeling the heat burst inside of you almost instantly, his cock jerking and jumping inside of you as he fills you with his cum. You’ve never let someone fuck you raw before and the feeling of him flooding you is strange but hot, something you could easily get used to and probably grow to love, if he’ll keep doing it.

That’s something to discuss later, but for now, you’re busy. Mingi is coming down, his eyes teary as he blinks the haze away and leans down to rest his head against your sternum. You pet his hair with one hand and rub his back with the other, feeling his cum starting to trickle out now that he’s softening.

You’ll need to get off this couch eventually, clean yourselves up and gather the clothes you’d flung, but you can’t find the will to move yet. Mingi is so soft against you, so warm and sweet, and you don’t want this bubble to burst.

It might when it comes time for the relationship talk, but considering the fact that he just almost came from you telling him you really like him, you’re pretty sure it’ll go well.

It does, and Mingi leaves your apartment the next day with rumpled clothes, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, and good news for the groupchat.

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#mingi x y/n #mingi x you #mingi fanfic #mingi smut #mingi fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #✨emily writes✨

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jksprincess10 · 2 months

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Down by the river || Halsin x f!reader

A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom and this character, I hope my numerous hours spent in BG3 shows haha. Thank you to @perotovar for the title.

CW: race of the reader unspecified, but she is smaller than Halsin (the man is 7 feet tall), wet Halsin is a warning in itself, oral and fingering (f receiving), innocentish reader, multiple orgasms, Halsin has a hugeeeee cock, unprotected p in v, good old pulling out method (please don't), pet names (my heart, etc.)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You didn't mean to spy on him.

You had simply intended to find a quiet spot to bathe. Alas - it was already taken. You hid between branches as you admired him.

Halsin looked like he belonged here - strong body coming out of the water like a siren. His arms, strong with thick muscles, strained as he washed his hair - hair that was untied, freely moving against the wind. The water started just under his navel, a line of hair trailing down, the rest of him hidden in the soft waves.

You had intended to go back. But when you moved, a branch cracked beneath your foot. The large elf looked in direction of the noise, aware and careful of any dangers awaiting him.

But it was just you. You came out, eyes closed, even though his naked form was burned behind your eyelids.

"Apologies. I did not know this spot was already taken."

"Ah, thank Silvanus it is you. Why don't you join me?"

You took the invitation, wanting to be closer to him. You felt warmer, somehow. But you turned around, and undressed, letting your camp clothes form a pile near Halsin's.

"Beautiful. Just as nature intended." You could hear the grin in his voice, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your body.

You turned around, shyly, and stepped into the water. It was refreshing, and you tried to forget about Halsin’s eyes on you, your eyes strained to the water moving slowly around your moving body. You could feel goosebumps rising on your skin, and your nipples peaking with interest as you remembered how close Halsin was.

“Now, please, my heart… Do not be shy. I have seen the way you look at me.” You looked up at his face, and you felt your cheeks burn as he flashed you a toothy smile. He approached slowly, like he was trying to tame a scared wild animal. Two of his big fingers rested on your chin so you couldn’t look away, as he looked into your eyes. His were shades of blues and golds. “I contemplate you in the same manner when you are distracted.”

Your heartbeat got faster as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. “Halsin…” Your hands laid naturally on the expanse of his pectoral muscles, as you got on the tips of your toes to capture his mouth. His free arm encircled your waist, holding you close. His mouth opened to you, and you swallowed him whole, tasting the honey and the fire on his tongue. You felt something big pressing against your stomach between the two of you, and you could only imagine what it was.

“Apologies, I do not mean to get ahead of myself…” Halsin whispered, panting, as he rested his forehead against yours.

“No need to… I like it.”

“You… like it?”

“Take me, Halsin.”

He let out a sound that resembled a growl, before taking you in his arms and lifting you up to bring you to the edge of the water. He laid you on the grass, bare and open for him, as he licked his lips like a predator.

“I beg of you, stop me if I am being too rough.” He pleaded, crawling to you. You watched as droplets of water fell off his body, taking in the view of this man getting on his knees for you.

“I promise.”

One of your hands found his hair, loose, wet and wild, that you held in a ponytail as his scarred lip kissed where your hip bone was located, going down and down until he found your pubic bone. He kissed the skin there, making you whimper and squirm in impatience.

“No one ever….” You admitted, your grip on his hair tightening as he got closer to your wetness. A soft smile traced his lips.

“I promise it will be pleasant for you, my heart.” Halsin’s fingers parted your folds, leaving you exposed to his animalistic gaze. The flat of his tongue licked at the exposed flesh, and already, you felt thunder striking in your veins. His eyes were attached to your face, analyzing every change of expression as he pleasured you selflessly. When he found your clitoris with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and pulled on his hair, making him growl. “There it is.” He whispered against your heat, goosebumps raising on your skin.

“Halsin, please, I beg – ah” Your words were cut off by a long moan as he sucked on your clit. It didn’t take long before you fell apart, tugging on his hair and face. But he did not stop, relishing in your fresh scent. He kept licking with a purpose, as one of his fingers entered your heat. Your walls tightened around him.

“I need to help you, so you can be disposed to take me. Please, settle down.” He took a pause to kiss your thighs and you loosened your legs a bit. “I do not wish to harm you.” You inhaled and exhaled as you took one more of his fingers in, his lips still latched onto your bud of pleasure. When his fingers curled and hit a particularly delightful spot, your body tensed once again as your juices emptied on his fingers. His name was on your lips like a prayer, you had never felt this good. Your hands grabbed on to his face and you brought him to your level, as he pressed his palms on the ground so he wouldn’t crush you beneath his weight.

“Halsin…” You caressed his wet hair with a shy smile. “You are… exquisite. I am yours. Please, take me.” You kissed his scars, his smile lines, the corner of his lips.

“Are you sure? It’s… quite a lot to take in.”

“I trust you.”

Even his hand looked small around his girth as he guided the tip inside of you. You knew it would be as remarkable in size as he was, so you tried not to flinch. Halsin distracted you with soft kisses, his hands helping you wrap your legs around him. Your walls slowly accommodated his size. You were already delirious on pain and pleasure.

“Oak Father preserve me.” He prayed under his breath as he stilled, his soft eyes making sure your expression had no trace of discomfort. He moved his hips slowly, in fact, he barely had to do anything for you to feel all of it. You prayed to your God as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Between the pressure of not wanting to hurt you from the inside and not to crush you, the large elf had the idea to roll in the grass, so you could lay comfortably on top of him. He was still in control, his hands moving down to your ass as he thrusted his hips upwards, and you met him halfway. Your cries only got louder as he picked up the pace, and you were worried the others would hear you, even if the camp was further in the forest. Your walls tightened around him as you came undone once again. He would not last longer, and he pulled you off as spurts of thick white liquid painted his stomach. You laid beside him on the grass and watched him with a content smile.

“Thank you. It was… most fulfilling.” He said as he pulled his hair back.

You heard familiar voices calling for you from the forest, and you got dressed in a hurry, not wanting to get caught by the others, you would never heat the end of it.

“Maybe… you should go back in the water.” You watched Halsin’s naked form one last time, before running back to the forest.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 halsin #halsin #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x you #halsin silverbough #halsin bg3 #halsin baldur's gate 3

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heesdreamer · 1 year

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AS LONG AS YOU’LL LET ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ prone to a bad reputation and accepting your friends ridiculous bets and challenges, you’re hit with the task to take the virginity of your schools number 1 student

WC ➩ 15k

WARNINGS ➩ um sex

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ no part 2 to this reader sucks most the time sorry.. not proofread but when is my work ever and slightly repetitive if ur a fan of my other works but what can I say i like this trope! this took me forever and not even sure i like it but hope u do

There was something about a challenge that just drove you absolutely crazy. You never cared too deeply for most things, preferring to take a casual approach to whatever life had to offer.

Yet something would awaken in you when presented a challenge, whether as serious as an academic achievement or as stupid as chugging more weekend poison than the frat boy sat beside you. Your skin would light up and your eyes would go hazy and wild at the prospect of competition, of successfully doing something that people doubted you were capable of doing.

It wasn’t any surprise to you when your friends took advantage of this, using your little quirk for their own amusement whenever school days got too slow or weekends started to hit that point of boredom. All they had to do was lay a challenge in front of you and you’d put your all into completing it.

This ended you up in numerous stupid situations, breaking into the locked school during spring break and leaving your mark for your friends to confirm once the doors opened again, flirting with the older cashier at the local liquor store while they stuffed their shirts with cold bottles, even at one point being escorted out of a crowded movie theatre by security after you managed to disturb the peace more than usual.

There wasn’t a line they wouldn’t set and more importantly, there wasn’t one you wouldn’t cross.

You felt it coming most times now, being able to sense the shift in the night and their demeanors before it actually happened. You were sat at some random party they’d dragged you to, smoking on the couch of a dirty living room and paying no attention to the ever changing crowd or the loud bass that was sounding throughout the house.

You sighed softly when you felt one of your friends nudging your side, glancing over at him with low hazy eyes and a bored expression while you waited for him to set tonight’s standard.

Sometimes you wondered if they actually were your friends, if they liked you even a little bit for your personality or if you served more so as an entertainment monkey, a circus animal for when they needed some excitement in their life. You especially thought this now as you watched him turn back to look at the others who were giggling that mean laugh they do often did when they landed on a truly rotten idea.

“I bet… you can’t take that kid home.” He said the words deliberately slow like you were stupid and incapable of understanding a faster pace.

You watched him for a few more seconds, trying to explode his head with your mind before you were following the direction where his arm was raising to point at, a cigarette loosely hanging from his fingers as he shook with laughter.

The kid in question was definitely around your age, potentially even older judging by the few people he was stood around, boys you recognized as some of your seniors at school. You didn’t recognize him however, scanning him for a while to try and decide if he was from a different part of town or if you just didn’t pay enough attention to your surroundings.

It made sense to you immediately why they had pointed him out, why he would be considered a challenge to take home.

He was stood awkwardly against the wall despite his friends clearly trying to get him to have a good time, staying near him and whispering into his ear every few seconds like they were giving him a play by play on what you were supposed to be doing at a college party.

He was clearly attempting to feign casualness, holding a cup that you were pretty certain was completely empty, and taking mock sips out of it every few minutes like clockwork. Behind the facade of his eyes that were scanning the crowd anxiously, you could tell he was extremely nervous and not used to the scene he was sat in front of.

“Oh you’re crazy dude.” Another one of your friends was talking now but you didn’t even spare her a glance, knowing she was just trying to fuel your fire more like she always did. “Him of all people? It’s impossible.”

You wanted to laugh at how obvious she was being in her comments, purposefully throwing the information towards you like you were a starving dog with snapping jaws. You’d already started to feel the competitiveness spark low in your gut the second you looked at the boy despite how annoyed by and aware of their antics you were.

“Just take him home?” You were questioning in a low voice and you finally glanced back towards your friends who were eagerly watching you. “Isn’t that a little tame?”

You liked to up the stakes with them occasionally, making sure they never got bored of you or underestimated just how far you’d take it if given the opportunity and right motivation.

You knew right away you wanted to take this one on, liking the way the boy nervously glanced back and forth or looked down at his shoes every time somebody passed by him and got a few feet too close. His friends were still glued to his side but you could tell they were itching to enter the mass of sweaty bodies, you found it interesting they’d be willing to give up their own enjoyment for their buddy.

“Not challenging enough for you? Shit you’re crazy.” Another one of your friends was laughing and patting you on the shoulder, shoving it slightly so you moved forward a bit on the couch. You shot her a glare and she leaned back with an awkward chuckle.

“Fine then I bet you can’t..” The first boy, who had started this topic of conversation in the first place, was starting up again and you watched him with an uninterested stare. “I bet you can’t take his virginity.”

This caused you to falter for a split second before regaining you composure, cocking in an eyebrow at your expectant friends before looking back towards the boy who was still uncomfortably shifting against the wall. He definitely didn’t want to be here and his little round glasses didn’t do him any favors in the feigning cool department but you weren’t sure where exactly they’d found the evidence to determine he was a virgin.

While he was definitely nerdy and awkward, he was still tall and lean with a handsome face. Plus, judging by the company he was with that was continuing to speak to him in low encouraging whispers, he had a good social circle.

Park Sunghoon and Sim Jake were definitely not losers and absolutely not virgins. You’d heard plenty of rumors about the two boys and a few others that ran with their group, ranging from your schools most established jocks and going all the way up to your class president Yang Jungwon.

“Why do you think he’s a virgin?” You were mumbling as you watched him, regardless if your friends were right or not you had your target officially set.

“It’s pretty well known.” One of the girls was shrugging her shoulders and frowning slightly, leaning against the wall behind the couch. “He’s pretty much a genius and doesn’t have time for that stuff, he’s rejected anyone who’s even slightly tried.”

“You’d know.” She was sneering and shoving an elbow into the boy next to her who started to laugh at her comment and the saddened expression on her face. You glanced at her curiously, slightly surprised she had even attempted with him considering her usual type normally fit your own friendship circles look and attitude.

You looked back over towards the boy and his friend with a raised eyebrow, trying to figure out what exactly you were missing. Why hadn’t you’d seen him before this considering the fact all of your friends seemed to know him and various details about his life?

It didn’t shock you to find him already looking at you this time, you had been staring daggers into the side of his head for almost twenty minutes now and he was bound to feel your gaze on him eventually. He was tensed as he looked at you, more so than he was already and you cocked an eyebrow in his direction at the fearful look in his eyes.

His friends seemed to realize something had caught his attention and they were following his line of sight optimistically. Sunghoon tensed up too slightly when it lead him back to you, still lazily sat on the couch off in the distance surrounded by your friends that almost resembled a pack of hyenas. You knew your reputation probably proceeded you judging by the fact he was starting to shake his head and whisper something to the boy again.

Jake, however, ever the bouncy jock seemed ecstatic that you were watching his friend so intensely and he was carrying a big smile as he leaned in to say something to them, most likely countering Sunghoon’s warning.

You watched him wrap an arm around the boys thin shoulders, patting him encouragingly before dismounting and dragging Sunghoon away into the crowd. This left the boy alone and for a second he took a few steps forward in panic like he was going to follow them but he quickly stopped as they disappeared amongst the masses, looking ten times more awkward now that he didn’t have his bodyguards sat next to him.

He met your eye again for a second before he was flushing again and looking away quickly, eyes shooting to his shoes as he nervously shuffled in place a few times.

Your friends had been talking during this, possibly to you and maybe they were upping the stakes of the bet, but you’d stopped listening a few minutes ago and only noticed they were speaking as you stood up from the couch and left them mid sentence, heading over to where the boy was standing.

You imagined you looked like a wild snake stalking it’s prey, licking your fangs as you slowly slithered closer to it until you finally snapped your jaws around his neck. He seemed to be thinking a similar thing judging by the way his eyes widened with fear when he went to look at you again and realized you were approaching.

You didn’t immediately greet him, leaning against the wall he was on with your shoulder so you could face him. You watched his side profile and scanned down his chest as it lifted and fell with heavy breaths.

He eventually mustered up the courage to look at you and only then did you give him a smile, letting it slowly take over your face as you cocked your head slightly and studied the way his nervous eyes darted all around your features.

“Hi.” Your voice was breathy and sweet but he immediately furrowed his eyebrows and looked away at the sound of it, picking at the rim of his cup that you now could see was in fact empty. “What’s your name?”

He glanced at you again and you realized you’d probably said the wrong thing judging by the fact his anxious eyes suddenly hardened. You assumed that he knew of you enough that you should’ve known him or you’d possibly met before hence his extreme reaction to your question.

“My memories bad baby I’m sorry, just remind me.” You were pouting slightly and cooing at him, shifting closer on the wall so you could reach up and place a hand on his shoulder gently.

He was glancing at it with wide eyes, staring at the way your fingertips just barely pressed onto his shirts fabric, then he was back to looking at your face again but thankfully he had lost the offended look. You noted that you liked how big his eyes were as he peered down at you, still taking those deep and shuddering breaths to try and calm down his nerves at your sudden close proximity.

“Heeseung.” He was whispering out, almost afraid to speak any louder considering how close your faces were now that he had turned his head to face you more directly. You smiled at the sweet tone of his voice and nodded your head in recognition.

“Lee Heeseung.” You repeated back to him, adding on his last name to show him that you did in fact know who he was.

You weren’t lying either as you came to the realization, knowing now why he felt so familiar yet unrecognizable. Lee Heeseung was the top of, not only your class and year, but the entire school and it was no doubt that he’d graduate miles above everybody else. His friend group was full of overachievers in their respective fields and now you understood the presence of the two outstanding jocks from earlier.

He seemed slightly surprised that you knew who he was and he was still watching you with those large curious eyes, gulping a bit when you instinctively curled your fingers into his shoulder like a kneading cat.

You were half expecting him to push you off, to reject you and make some excuse that could allow him to leave, remembering what your friends had said about his habit of shutting girls down early in their advances. It surprised you a bit when he was turning slightly so he could face you more, almost like he hadn’t even realized he was doing it as he took in a deep breath.

Your smiled widened, knowing from experience that you occasionally had a certain addicting aura to you, something that made boys lean forward instinctively or follow you around like a lost puppy.

However your obvious expression seemed to wake him up to your attempts and his face dropped into a small frown, leaning back far enough that your hand was falling from his shoulder and you were losing your smile as you watched him visibly grow uncomfortable. He watched you with a weird expression before he was turning his body again and avoiding looking in your direction.

“Did you need something?” He mumbled out and you frowned at the change in his tone, not as smooth and sweet as it had been when he said his name.

You were shaking your head even though he wasn’t looking at you anymore and trying to think of another route to take since this clearly wouldn’t be as simply as you originally thought it would, eyes lighting up again when you got an idea.

“A tutor.” You rushed out, trying to keep your voice casual and not make it sound like you’d just thought of that on the spot. He gave you a disbelieving look and you nodded in earnest. “I’m serious. I’m flunking bad.”

“Last I checked you didn’t care about school.” He was mumbling and you furrowed your eyebrows at his statement, wondering just how much he apparently know about you.

“Only one more year.” You were shrugging at him and your eyes shot down to his lips and neck for a second before you were meeting his gaze again, trying to hold your laugh when his eyes widened a bit at your wandering gaze. “Time to get serious I guess.”

He didn’t say anything for a few beats and you resisted the urge to push his glasses up his nose as they slowly fell while you talked, watching him take a deep breath as he contemplated what you were saying. You’d never heard of him tutoring somebody before but you also weren’t sure if anybody had ever asked, not paying him much mind once they realized he wasn’t going to do their homework or let them cheat off his test.

He was finally looking at you again with hesitation in his eyes and you offered him another small smile, trying to look as least devious as you could possibly manage.

“If you’re serious we can meet in the library on Monday.” He was muttering and your face lit up which caused him to let out a small sigh.

“Not somewhere more private?” You couldn’t resist teasing him further considering how unnerved he already seemed, touching his arm softly as you purred the words again. He winced slightly at your sudden change of tone but didn’t take a step backwards like he had before.

“I said if you’re serious.” He warned in an awkward voice and you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his arm quickly before retracting your hand.

“Trust me. I’m serious.”

——

You would’ve thought the world ended judging by the stares you were getting as you entered the library.

It had taken you longer than you originally planned to find it and then make your way to where Heeseung had told you he’d be if you wanted to show up, so now you were going to be a few minutes late. You hoped he would still be there and had planned for the fact you obviously didn’t frequent the building enough to get around swiftly.

Luckily, you caught sight of him the second you finished climbing the stairs to the third floor and your stomach turned in excitement.

It put a damper on your plans for your meeting to be so public but that didn’t deter you much, the familiar buzz of adrenaline running through you as you took in his appearance from a distance. He had clearly gotten there way before your meeting time and he seemed engrossed in whatever text book was laid in front of him, possibly not even realizing you were late.

You were approaching him slowly to see how long it would take him to notice you but he didn’t pick his head up from the book until you were standing in front of him and clearing your throat.

You smiled at him when he jumped in his seat, lifting his head so fast his glasses bounced on top of his nose. He immediately looked awkward and apologetic at the sight of you and you pulled out the seat next to him so you could sit down. He seemed surprised you weren’t taking the one across instead and stiffened up in his seat.

“Hope I’m not too late.” You greeted him casually and turned in the chair so your knees were pointing in his direction and you could fully face him.

“No you’re perfect.” He was shaking his head and peering at you intensely like he was in a daze and not thinking clearly. When you smirked and cocked your eyebrow at his wording he immediately flushed. “I-I mean like… t-the timing is perfect. You’re on time is all I meant.”

You laughed at him softly and he shook his head to himself, turning and sternly facing forward so he didn’t have to look at you as he closed the book he was focusing on and started to pull out the ones pertaining to what you had asked him to help you with. You didn’t pay any mind to which ones he was opening up, not having any plans to pay attention anyways.

He seemed to notice this after a few minutes and he slowly trailed off on his introduction statement when he realized you weren’t even glancing at the books, just watching the side of his face as he rambled on.

He was glancing at you from the side of his eye to really confirm what you were looking at before he sighed softly and turned his head so he was facing you more directly, shying away from your intense gaze slightly. “I thought you said you were serious.”

“I was serious about meeting you at the library.” You explained to him, shrugging softly when he furrowed his eyebrows and sighed again. You shifted your knee slightly so it was bumping into the side of his chair and he glanced down at it, snapping his head back up when he noticed the bare skin of your legs below your skirt. “It’s hard for me to focus.”

“How can I help?” He eventually asked after he took a deep calming breath and the question would’ve sounded sleazy from anybody else, like a sly pick up line. Paired with his gentle tone and earnest eyes though, you almost cooed at how eager he was to help you.

You hummed softly and pretended to think for a few seconds, liking the way he got more nervous and kept fidgeting in his chair with every passing second.

“How about we make it a game?” You were eventually stating, letting your voice come out excited and breathy like you’d just thought of the idea. “Every time I get something right, you have to answer one of my questions.”

He seemed hesitant at this and thrown off like he didn’t expect you to suggest something like that, a game that didn’t benefit you in any way and only served for you to get to know him better. He was eventually agreeing and you smiled softly as you watched him push his glasses back up his nose and try to think of something to ask you.

You liked the first few questions he asked because he was clearly taking it easy on you, stuttering out simple things that were basic knowledge and trying not to look at you when you intentionally got them wrong, wanting to drag out your game and get to listen to his smooth voice more.

When you got the first one right he was taking a second to take another breath before glancing at you curiously, slight fear in his eyes like he was worried you’d ask him something inappropriate or uncomfortable.

“When did you meet your friends?” You were eventually saying and he visibly relaxed although he had a suspicious look on his face like you’d thrown him off with the easygoing question.

“Middle school.” He mumbled out and you nodded softly, putting your elbow on the table and leaning forward onto your hand so you could be closer to him. He flushed bright red but continued with his answer. “We p-played basketball together sometimes.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in surprise at the new unlocked information and for a second you wanted to ask him if he still played but he was continuing on with the next subject question before you had the chance, shifting uncomfortably when you immediately answered it with ease and gained the opportunity for another inquiry about his life.

“Was that your first time at a party?” Your voice was lower now since you were closer and he was watching you intensely, stiffened by the way your eyes went from holding his gaze tightly in yours to watching his lips as he spoke.

“Yeah I guess so.” He shrugged softly but you could tell he was feeling anything but casual. He almost looked transfixed by how close you were getting to him the longer the two of you talked. “It wasn’t yours though.”

You smiled softly at his comment, knowing for sure now that he clearly knew of you and your reputation. You thought it was cute that he seemed unnerved by the mere mention of a party yet you found yourself in the same position as last weekend, just different couches, almost every single night you had available. You wondered if this made him less likely to answer your next question or more so.

He was asking it slowly like he had realized you knew more than you let on, giving you a rather hard one just to test his theory and sighing softly again when you answered it much quicker than it was delivered to you.

“Has anybody ever kissed you before?” You finally asked him something that slightly toed the line he originally expected you to cross.

You were leaning even closer as you said this, voice low and eyes hazy as you watched him. He wasn’t moving but he was watching you closely with that same hypnotized look in his eyes, shaking his head instinctively like he answered you without meaning to and then immediately flushing when he realized that he had.

You let your lip curl into a half smile as you looked at him and neither one of you made any move to continue on with the game, just watching each other in tensioned silence for a few beats before you were clearing your throat to try and catch his attention fully again. His eyes that had fallen down to the lower half of your face shot back up to your eyes and you cocked your head slightly.

Heeseung was trying not to shift away from you out of embarrassment but it got even more difficult when you were moving closer again, your free hand that wasn’t under your chin coming up to rest on his knee. He was suddenly glad he had worn jeans and not shorts despite how hot the weather had gotten in the past few weeks.

“Why not?” You were whispering to him and squeezing his knee softly, watching as it took a second for his dizzy mind to remember what you had even been talking about before to try and figure out what you were referring to. “Why hasn’t anybody ever kissed you?”

He just flushed more red as you assisted him in remembering, repeating the direct words as they fell casually off your lips while simultaneously causing his entire nervous system to light up.

“I’m not sure.” He whispered back, his voice wavering slightly with nerves as the conversation and tone changed quickly. “I-I don’t really know I guess.”

You hummed softly like you didn’t really believe him, thinking about the comments your friends had made about him turning down any advances. You had a feeling that was more about their own advances and judgements about him rather than him just simply being a prude. You felt like your theory was right the more he stared at the way your hand was squeezing around his knee.

“Do you want to come back to my dorm with me?” You were whispering to him suddenly and his eyes were back on yours, widening in shock for a moment before glancing around the empty library like he was worried somebody could somehow hear what you said.

This seemed to awaken him from his spell and he was leaning back a bit, aggressively popping the bubble you had fallen into with each other. You’d crossed the line enough that he was doubting your intentions again and he shifted his leg enough that your hand fell from his knee, landing lifeless on the side of his chair instead.

“For what?” He was asking with a frown and the fact that he was even slightly curious reassured you a bit that he wasn’t fully rejecting your advances, just being cautious.

“I can’t focus here.” You were explaining simply and he glanced around again like he was confused on what you meant, especially since it was pretty much completely silent and empty outside of your whispers to each other. “Too much on my mind.”

He didn’t verbally agree but he was closing the book in front of him and giving you a nervous look that made you smile, knowing he was accepting your offer to go somewhere more private. You tried not to be offended as you walked in silence, even more so because he kept looking over his shoulder like he was afraid to be seen leaving with you.

His anxiety didn’t cease as you crossed the courtyard over to your side of the dorms, if anything it just amplified the closer you got to your room and the more students you passed by.

You didn’t blame him considering you could only imagine the rumors that would blossom from him being seen with you, considering your reputation and overall look, especially since you were leading him back to your room in the middle of the day. It almost made you laugh to see how unnerved he was just to study in private with you.

When you finally got to your dorm, he still hadn’t calmed down and he awkwardly looked around the small room like he was in search of a place to sit. You’d forgone the usual desk and chair most dorms had and instead only had your bed as a resting place, raising your eyebrow at him when you walked past his stiff body to slowly lower yourself onto it, patting the spot next to you.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.” He was shaking his head suddenly and still standing in the middle of your room but you frowned softly at him.

“I don’t bite you know.” Your voice was soft and innocent, teasing him for his assumptions about your intentions and he gave you a disbelieving look before eventually taking a few hesitant steps and sitting as far away from you on the bed as he could possibly manage.

You watched him intensely as he took his backpack off and placed it on the floor, in between his feet. He was bending over to rummage through it and search for the subjects you were previously talking about and you scanned his frame and side profile as he did so, liking the way his turtleneck was stretched and pulled tightly against his back muscles because of his movements.

He was sitting back up and beginning to talk again but you were zoned out as you watched him, trailing down his neck to the way his hands tried to explain the subject to you.

When he eventually caught on to the fact you still weren’t paying any attention, judging by the way he asked you a question and got no response, he looked over towards you and let out a soft sigh when he realized you weren’t even pretending to be looking at the textbooks.

“You’re still not focusing.” He was mumbling to you and shaking his head, closing the book on his lap and picking at the cover with anxious fingers. “I thought you said you’d be less distracted in private.”

“Must be something else stealing my attention then.” You were shrugging and leaning back on your palm so your body was more angled towards him, smiling when his breath hitched slightly when your position made your skirt ride up your legs.

“What do you want from me?” He was eventually asking in a low, nervous voice and you cocked your head at him.

For a moment you contemplated playing the game a bit longer, telling him you didn’t want anything and this was just an innocent study date. You considered what your friends had said about him never paying any mind to any advances or attempts but then you thought again about the way he instinctively leaned closer to you and followed you back to your room despite knowing your reputation and bad habits.

“What do I want from you?” You repeated back to him and he nodded softly, eyes going to your mouth when you kissed your teeth. “Who said I want anything?”

He didn’t say anything for a few heavy seconds, tension in the air almost suffocating both of you as you waited for him to give you any signal that he had fully caught on to your intentions and didn’t mind them. His body language didn’t do much to help you, shifting uncomfortably but still watching you with an intense gaze that kept exploring around your face.

“Y-you.. I’ve heard some stuff about you, I guess.” He was eventually saying and you tilted your head as he played with his fingers anxiously, avoiding looking at you completely now as he brought up the subject.

“What have you heard exactly?” You shifted closer to him on the bed and it caught his attention again, stiffening although you still were a few feet away. “Good things… bad things?”

“I don’t know.” The way he paused, calculated and awkward, made you believe he definitely did know and just didn’t want to say. He seemed to notice you caught on to that and he sucked in a breath before pushing up his glasses. “Just the stuff you do with people.”

“I do lots of stuff with very little people. I’m picky.” You were scooting closer to him again as you said this, letting a purr seep back into your voice and he gave you a disbelieving look.

Heeseung was cute, that fact didn’t pass by you from the second you saw him, but you were a bit taken back by how handsome he looked the longer you spent with him. Despite being awkward and avoiding your eye contact like it was a devious act, his gaze was strong when you held it and he occasionally lifted an eyebrow almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

He had a sort of arrogance about him, something he possibly hadn’t noticed he carried. Maybe it stemmed from excelling academically or being desired for his skills, for his brains.

The other side of him, the part that was insecure and fidgeting, letting out small stutters and choked breaths was attractive to you too. You didn’t necessarily have a type, gender or appearance, but you were drawn to the fact he seemed almost drunk every time he looked at you for too long.

“You don’t believe me?” You questioned him when the look didn’t leave his face, doubting the fact that you were apparently picky yet still deciding to obviously flirt with him.

“Jake said you normally go for like.. I don’t know people like you.” He was mumbling out, his eyes still scanning your face mindlessly.

“You asked your friends about me?” You tried to keep the teasing tone out of your voice but he definitely caught on to it, flushing and stammering for a second like he hadn’t meant to give you that much information.

“J-just at the party.” He was quick to explain as he shook his head, glasses sliding down his nose bridge again. “You were l-looking I think and Sunghoon said something about it and I don’t know, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You ignored the fact he was rambling and attempting to backtrack on what he said, leaning forward off your palm so you were closer to him again. He froze up at the sudden proximity and watched you with widen eyes when you reached over to push his glasses back up on his face, tucking some of his hair behind his ear afterwards.

“I think maybe you’re picky too.” You told him slowly, watching the way his eyes trailed from your wrist that was practically touching his cheek now, all the way up your arm before it was landing back on your face.

“I’m not.” He was shaking his head earnestly like he was trying to convince you and when you raised an eyebrow, he realized he had misspoken in his desperation. “I m-mean.. I guess I am. I just don’t think girls really would get what they want from me.”

He was saying it slow and awkward but you could sense the fact he had been thinking about this a lot. Your mind flashed with how fast he was to answer your questions even when he was feeling awkward, the way he stared at your hand that squeezed his knee in the library.

“What do you think they want?” You were muttering and you could tell by the look he gave you, incredulous and knowing like he already realized you had noticed his behavior, that he wasn’t going to tell you so you finished your sentence for him. “You think they want you to be in charge? To lose your resolve and snap, bend them over.”

He was watching you intensely as you spoke and something flashed past his eyes, dark and heavy but ashamed at the same time. You kissed your teeth again and pet his cheek softly, almost forgetting your hand was resting there until he subtly nudged the side of his face against it.

His skin was hot to the touch and still red like it had been from the moment you’d brought him back to your room, fidgeting with his fingers and not breathing as you shifted closer again so the sides of your thighs were pushed tightly against each others. He only sucked in a fast and panicked breath when your hand traveled down his cheek and stopped at the base of his neck, turning your head at his reaction.

“Such a pretty boy.” You were whispering and your voice shocked the both of you, coming out just as breathy and transfixed as his was previously.

You couldn’t help it as you studied his expression, his big eyes peering at you with hesitance and curiosity behind the thin framed glasses. He was a lot bigger than you but he seemed small and fragile with the way he shrunk in on himself, shoulders pulled forward in an attempt to disappear.

His eyes were going down towards your lips again and when he saw the corner of them pull up into a smirk they immediately left, meeting your eyes in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You were asking him in a low voice and your faces were so close all it would take is a slight rock forward from either of you.

“I d-don’t know.” He whispered back but his eyes went back down to your mouth as you smiled, telling you he definitely did know. “I’m not sure how.”

“I can teach you.” Your lips were grazing against his as you spoke and a shudder ran through him, his glasses sliding forward again and touching your forehead. “Let me teach you baby.”

He was hesitating for a second but his eyes widened a touch at the pet name and then he was nodding his head, his forehead touching yours because of the movement. You were pushing into him before he could change his mind and he stiffened at the feeling of your lips against his.

He wasn’t lying about not knowing how, completely frozen throughout the kiss until you were pulling back and laughing softly, his eyebrows furrowing in an upset expression at the sound. You kissed him again before he could think too deeply about your laugh and get insecure about you making fun of him, this time bringing your hand up to his face again to try and help him add some movement.

It took a few seconds but he slowly got the hang of it, pushing against your mouth desperately once he realized he could move with you.

You pulled back out of the kiss for a second to look at him, his eyes still shut tight and his cheeks almost as red as his swollen lips. He fluttered his eyelashes open once he realized you weren’t kissing him again and gave you a confused look.

You couldn’t help yourself from pushing your hand off his cheek and into his hair, brushing it back and admiring the way it immediately flopped back into place, soft and fluffy. You were turning your head to kiss him again, a small peck that pulled a little noise from him.

“What’s wrong baby.” You practically cooed at him, adjusting his glasses and watching the way he went slightly cross eyed as he followed your fingers movements.

“Please, again.” He breathed out and you felt a pull in your stomach at the whiny tone to his voice, leaning back into you desperately and seemingly forgetting the resolve he was showing earlier.

You didn’t bother teasing him further, pulling him in for another kiss and letting it deepen quickly this time. He made another noise into your mouth as you did this, half surprised and half grateful when you continued to move your lips together at a slow pace.

His hands were shaking in his lap and you reached down blindly to grab one, bumping against his stomach on accident and feeling it harden at the touch. You ignored it for now and took his hand in yours so you could place it around your body, letting it settle near your back.

You were slipping your tongue into his mouth softly and he froze again, eyes opening for a second but immediately shutting again when you closed your fist in his hair in warning.

He let you lick into his mouth a few times, getting used to the feeling and then he was pushing forward again so he could kiss you deeper. You almost laughed at his excitement but you were stopped by the feeling of his tongue brushing against yours, experimenting for himself what it felt like.

Heeseung let out a low groan that vibrated against you and your free hand slid forward to grab near his knee again, bunching up the fabric of his pants absentmindedly.

You sucked on his tongue for a few beats before you felt his spit dripping down his chin, pressed tightly against yours considering he wasn’t allowing either of you room to breathe. You pulled back just slightly and he opened his eyes to watch you, letting out a gasp when you were turning your head to lick the wetness off his chin, your tongue trailing up until it was back in his mouth again.

His gasp made you smile into the kiss and you could feel his large hands squeezing your side, shifting slightly at the feeling.

When you were finally pulling away to try and take a breath, he was giving you a panicked look and trying to lean in again. Your hand in his hair tightened to stop his advances and he frowned deeply.

“W-why?” He was whispering and his face fell into a pout, an expression far more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him carry.

“Don’t want you to get too excited.” Your tone was teasing and your eyes dropped down to his lap, an obvious tent in his pants although you had barely touched him and just kissed a little bit.

He was clearly mortified and leaning away from you a bit, eyes darting around awkwardly like he wanted to disappear into the mattress. You were petting his hair again to try and soothe his embarrassment.

“Just messing with you baby.” You were shaking your head and trying to reassure him, your hand kneading his knee for a second before sliding up and down his clothed thigh, caressing it gently.

“It’s not funny.” He mumbled back, watching you carefully like he was waiting for you to burst out laughing at him. You frowned again at his hurt tone, wondering what past experiences he had that would lead him to he so defensive.

You were scooting closer to him again and now your legs were hooked over him, thrown over his lap so you could hold the side of his face and turn his head so he was looking at you. He froze at the feeling of your thighs pressed ontop of him but didn’t make any move to scoot away this time, just watching you with a guarded expression.

“I like that you like kissing me that much.” You were whispering it to him and his eyes went to your mouth at the reminder you had kissed. “You make me feel good too.”

“I do?” He sounded breathless at that, eyes opening up a bit in shock as he waited for your confirmation.

“Yeah baby, you’re so pretty.” You kissed your teeth softly and pushed his hair back again, taking in his features and the way he instinctively pushed his head against your palm.

You were kissing him again before he could say anything else, cupping his face in your hands and parting your mouth in shock when he was squeezing your legs, seemingly forgetting they were still in his lap until his big hands made contact with your bare skin.

He was freezing up at the realization he was touching your thighs, your skirt rolling up more to an almost dangerous height and he pulled away from the kiss to stare at you, removing his hands so fast you barely registered that they were there.

“I-I have to go.” He was rushing out and you frowned softly at his nervous tone, not saying anything as he was suddenly scooting away from you and gently placing your legs back on the bed so he could stand off of it without jolting you around.

You wanted to ask him what had happened to scare him off, mouth parting in the beginning of a question but he was throwing his backpack over his shoulder before you could form a syllable, disappearing out the door with a slight stumble that almost sent him flying into your bedside table. You sighed softly at the fact he had completely ran away from you, realizing this would be a lot harder than you thought.

——

The next time you saw Heeseung was the following Thursday morning, despite wanting to immediately seek him out once you entered campus you thought it would be better if you have him a few days to calm himself down and lessen his nerves.

This plan didn’t seem to work considering he immediately stiffened up when he caught sight of you entering the classroom he was sat in, some lecture you didn’t bother checking the subject for, asking his friend Jake in passing where you could find him. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, the front row of course, and tried to avoid looking at you.

It didn’t work considering you stopped directly in front of him, eyeing the small girl who was sitting in the seat beside him until she was glancing up at the feeling of your stare and immediately faltering before getting up and going the row behind.

Heeseung sighed softly when you smiled at her and slid into the seat, scooting the chair slightly so you were closer to him.

“What are you doing here?” He sounded exhausted and completely thrown off, facing the front of the classroom and whispering out of the side of his mouth.

“Am I not allowed to attend a class?” You were whispering back to him, still holding your smile despite the fact he was refusing to look at you.

“So you’re interested in physical anthropology now?” His tone was sarcastic and he finally spared you a quick glance, faltering when he saw your smile and the way you leaned forward with your chin on your palm so you could be closer to him.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.” You were shrugging softly and tapping your foot against his, staring at his clean tennis shoes for a second before looking back at him to see him holding his gaze on yours now.

He watched you for a few beats, you could tell he was holding his breath by the way his shoulders were tensed and then finally releasing in a small shuddered exhale. You raised an eyebrow at him and went to speak, stopping when his eyes dropped to your mouth for a second before he was flushing and going back to staring at the empty chalkboard.

You smiled softly at the realization he was clearly replaying the other day in his mind, more awkward than normal now that you’d caught him zoning out staring at your mouth.

The professor was coming in now and you stiffened slightly, Heeseung’s foot trapped under yours. For a second you considered staying and teasing him a bit further but considering you definitely weren’t supposed to be here and you were directly in the front row, you imagined it would be easier to just leave before you were removed.

You were gathering your bag, slipping the strap back over your shoulder as Heeseung watched you from the corner of his eye.

You leaned down towards him, letting your lips graze against his ear and trying not to laugh at the way a shiver wracked through his body as he clenched his pencil tighter.

“There’s a party tomorrow at Beomgyu’s place. You and your friends should come.” You didn’t give him the chance to say anything about your invitation, knowing he was most likely to decline while in your presence.

You could feel him watching you still as you turned to leave the classroom, waving slightly at the professor who was giving you a confused look.

——

“Wait, you’re actually thinking about going?” Sunghoon was raising a dark eyebrow as he sat up to look at his friend, not paying attention before but now on high alert as he tuned into the conversation. “Are you fucking insane?”

“Dude when has Heeseung ever been invited to a party by a girl.” Jake was rebutting and wrapping an arm around the mentions boys shoulders, shaking him slightly with an excited grin. “And she’s hot.”

Heeseung groaned softly and pushed his friends arm off of him, flopping on the couch and trying not to think too deeply about the reason his jaw clenched at Jake’s wording. He had decided to confide in them after your interaction in the classroom, leaving out the details of what happened in your dorm.

He could hear Jake’s mocking tone now, scolding him for running away from you the way he did.

“Yeah exactly. I mean no offense but do you not find it slightly suspicious that Y/N is suddenly interested in Heeseung?” Sunghoon was speaking slowly like he was worried about hurting his friends feelings, eyeing him carefully.

Heeseung didn’t say anything still, regretting bringing it up at all. He had blurted it out awkwardly after they’d questioned his red blushing face, still replaying the feeling of you whispering in his ear in a classroom full of gossiping peers.

“Hee is a smoke show dude, it’s about time ladies started to notice it.” Jake was shaking his head and pointing a stern finger towards the other two boys who were watching him from the couch.

Heeseung sighed again when his friend turned on his feet and disappeared into his closest, muttering something about making him look as sexy as possible for when he saw you. Sunghoon glanced over at him when he heard the small noise and raised an eyebrow.

“I can tell him to chill out if you want.” He was offering, noticing how tense the oldest boy looked.

“Do you really think she couldn’t like me?” It was slipping out before he even decided if he wanted to say it or not, wincing at how insecure and nervous his voice sounded and hoping Sunghoon didn’t pick up on how totally distraught over this he was.

He knew Sunghoon wouldn’t make fun of him like Jake but he felt embarrassed over being so inexperienced and awkward around girls still. He’d had bad experiences that only his friends really knew about and hadn’t really planned to ever make another attempt until you’d approached him, charming and devilish while smelling sweeter than any person he’d ever encountered.

Sunghoon seemed to finally notice that his protective behavior was furthering his friends insecurity and he sighed softly once more before patting him affectionately on the knee.

“Let’s get you dressed.”

——

Despite only coming to the party to see if Heeseung would come, you weren’t expecting much. You highly doubted he would actually attend or if he did he’d most likely not be okay being seen with you after the stunt you had pulled in the classroom.

So you were you completely, and uncharacteristically, frozen in the middle of the room when the crowd had slightly parted and you caught sight of him leaning against the wall. He was with his two friends again and you could still see the nervous twitch in his hands but his visual had taken a complete 180, almost not recognizing him for a split second.

You were making your way over there before he even realized you were approaching, eyes widening slightly when Sim Jake was nudging him in the ribs to get his attention and nodding his head towards you.

“Your glasses.” You breathed out once you were in speaking distance, almost toe to toe with him and staring at him with slightly amazed eyes. He awkwardly looked to his sides at his friends and Sunghoon cleared his throat before pushing off the wall and waiting for the other boy to join him.

“Hey.” Heeseung was greeting now that they were gone, trying to carry a casual tone despite the fact he was picking at the skin around his thumb.

You scanned down his outfit, tight ripped jeans with a simple black shirt tucked into the belt but he looked nothing like himself, missing his usual sweaters and loose fitted pants. Not to mention the most jarring part, his lack of glasses sat against his high nose.

“Are you… wearing eyeliner?” You were instinctively leaning forward to get a closer look, too invested and intrigued in his new look to realize how little space you were leaving between the two of you.

He stiffened at the fact you were swaying closer to him, your nose brushing against his for a second and your mouth twitched downwards at the fact his glasses weren’t hitting against your forehead anymore. He must’ve misread your reaction between he winced slightly and looked down towards his feet.

“You look sexy.” You blurted out when you realized his insecure expression, your hand coming to grip his arm and trying not to look down at the feeling of his bare skin under your palm, forgetting about his top of choice.

“D-do I?” He was muttering out and then quickly clearing his throat and attempting to steady his expression. “Do I?”

“Can you see?” You ignored his ask for reassurance and smiled a little bit, sliding over so your back was against the wall too and your shoulders were pressed together.

He tensed again at the way you moved away which causes you to furrow your brows, assuming he would have rather you not be all over him in case anybody was starting to pay attention to the two of you. You nudged him softly with your hand to try and bring his attention back to what you were asking him.

“No, not really.” He flushed as he said it, embarrassed to be admitting that he had forgone one of his senses just to look nice.

“You’re not missing much.” You mumbled back to him, looking out into the surging crowd and scanning the faces, some familiar and some empty and blending together the longer you watched. “Other than a few girls eyeing you.”

“Seriously?” He was glancing over at you with an interested expression and you scoffed while turning your head to face him better, eyes dipping down to his mouth for a second before meeting his gaze again. He seemed more relaxed now and he was smirking slightly while looking at you.

“Oh so you’re interested?” You teased him back, liking the fact he wasn’t immediately looking away from you at the soft purr seeping into your voice.

“Not necessarily.” He was answering swiftly and your stomach swooped at the familiar breathiness in his tone.

You were turning towards him more and he was looking at you with low eyes, stiffening slightly when your hand was coming back up to rest against his arm. You were softly touching his skin before dragging your hand down towards his wrist, squeezing it tightly and pressing against the bone there. He squirmed against the wall but didn’t say anything, looking at you with a curious expression that was slowly merging into the one he had after you kissed him.

You could tell he was thinking about it judging by the way his eyes kept darting around your face, seemingly not even realizing the way he was instinctively leaning towards you.

“Who did your makeup?” You were asking him in a quiet tone and it took a second for him to respond, not registering your voice at first considering how transfixed he was by your presence. “Was it Jake?”

He was nodding softly at your suggested answer, looking sheepish again at the reminder of his changed appearance. You were humming under your breath before letting go of his wrist, bringing your thumb up to your mouth and wetting it slightly with a flick of your tongue. He watched you in amazement as you brought your wet digit to his face, carefully cleaning up the messy lines.

Your other hand was also coming up to his face to cup his jaw in an attempt to keep him still so you could avoid poking him. He held his breath the entire time you were touching him, gently wiping your wet thumb along his waterline and giving him a more smudged and smokey look rather than the amateurish lines his friend had attempted.

When you pulled back from his face, he remained still as he watched you with an almost drunk gaze, completely floored by your actions.

“Would you let me kiss you?” You were whispering to him, just barely reaching his ears over the loud music and the crowd talking and laughing but he managed to catch it and he glanced behind your shoulder awkwardly like he was afraid somebody was watching.

“Not here.” He whispered back nervously like he thought you’d get upset. A small pang of hurt hit your chest but you tried to ignore it, knowing your reputation was your own doing and nobody else’s fault.

He hadn’t declined your proposition however and that fact didn’t miss you, grabbing his wrist again and tugging him gently off the wall so he could be dragged behind you as you made your way out of the main section of the house and towards one of the halls. You passed by his friends on the way out and you ignored the glare Park Sunghoon sent in your direction.

You entered a dark room in silence and he was flustered for a moment when you immediately pushed him against the nearest hard surface and kissed him, not giving him any time to panic or hesitate before he was attempting to unfreeze and kiss you back.

The kiss was deep and filthy and you felt a pull in your stomach at the way he dipped down slightly, knees going weak at the feeling of you pressed against him. You pulled back for a second to look at him, only slightly able to see his face in the dark and you almost frowned again at his lack of eyewear.

“Wear your glasses next time.” You instructed him in a breathy tone, stern in your words even as you leaned forward so your front was completely pressed against his.

“N-next time? Yeah.. yeah I will, I promise.” He was nodding earnestly and you smiled slightly at the giddiness in his voice at the prospect of you both continuing to meet like this.

You were kissing him again to try and distract yourself from how cute you found him, how much you liked the way he reacted to you and the charming carelessness he carried once he was comfortable. It’d been a long time since you were interested in somebody but you were going to steel up and remember that this was simply a challenge, nothing more.

He was doing his best to kiss you back and you could feel his chest rising and falling against yours, his hands resting against the wall to try and keep himself standing upright. Yours were traveling down his stomach until you could grab the belt loops of his pants and tug him off the wall slightly, turning your bodies in a circle so you were pressed against a solid surface instead.

He let out a small gasp and pulled back for a second to see where you had moved to, eyeing you curiously when you finally flicked on the lights and he realized you were inside a small bathroom.

You kissed him one more time briefly before raising yourself up onto the marble sink, pulling him forward again by his pants and laughing softly when you heard him shriek a little at the sudden movement. You trapped him between your legs and held his face softly, watching his big eyes for a second before kissing him deeply again.

“You can touch me.” You were whispering into his mouth when you realized his hands were nervously clutching onto the counter, warm mouth moving down to kiss against his jawline.

“R-right.” He was nodding but not making any move to do so, stiffening slightly when you started to suck on his neck softly, one of your hands tangled in the back of his previous styled hair.

When you bit down slightly on his tan skin, he was finally moving. He instinct lurched forward with a groan and gripped onto the closest thing, which happened to be just above your knee. He seemed like he wanted to flinch back once he felt your skin under his hold but he didn’t, taking a deep breath and keeping it there.

“Don’t be nervous.” You mumbled against his neck and you tightened your legs that were around his waist, pulling him closer so he was flushed against your lower half. “It’s just me.”

You were moving your mouth back up to kiss him again and he sighed into, leaning forward against you so you swayed backwards slightly and you felt your head pressing against the mirror placed behind you. He was pulling back to look down at you, staying pressed against you so the two of you were breathing into each others mouths.

“You have no idea how nervous that makes me.” He was speaking in a low breathy tone and your stomach dipped at how dark his eyes had gotten, still awkward but definitely feeling the effects of being around you now.

“I want you.” You tried your best to reassure him despite it not being something you usually ever did, curling your hand in his hair slightly just enough so he could feel the pull. His hand was sliding up from your knee slowly but he completely skipped your thigh, hesitantly placing it against your waist.

He was nodding slowly and surprising you by initiating another kiss, his big hand tightening around your hip bone like he didn’t even mean to do it. You hummed softly against him and spread your legs more so he could keep pressing against you.

You could feel him getting more desperate the longer you kissed, licking into your mouth and letting out small little needy whines while trying to remain quiet in case anybody passed by drunkenly looking for the restroom. When you first rolled your hips against him, he was completely faltering and he released a small shout into the kiss, freezing up at the overwhelming feeling.

You waited for a few seconds before doing it again, trying to encourage him to grind himself against you, clearly able to feel how hard he was just from kissing.

He took a while to follow your silent instructions but the pleasure overwhelmed his ability to think straight and he forgot about his insecurities for just a moment, his hips stuttering into yours as he groaned lowly at the feeling. You were moving your foot up on the counter so your legs were completely spread and tugging his hair again in an attempt to encourage his movement.

Heeseung was hesitantly fucking himself against you, losing focus and completely forgetting about the fact you were kissing, his hand kneading against your side almost painfully. He was pulling his head back away from your mouth and lowering his forehead onto your shoulder instead, more groans falling from his lips.

“That’s good baby.” Your voice was breathy and you were nodding even though he couldn’t see it, your hand holding his hair tightly from where he was resting in your neck. “Does it feel good?”

“F-feels.. fuck.” He trailed off after that and you almost laughed at how wrecked he sounded, hearing him swear for the first time from how overwhelmed he was getting.

You could imagine how he must be feeling, how addicting it would be to go from never being kissed to suddenly experiencing pleasure so intense for the first time. He would most likely do anything you wished here in this lowly lit bathroom, including helping you succeed in winning the challenge.

He was pulling his head up for a second to look at you, eyes watery and affectionate before he was surging forward for another amateurish kiss and you responded quickly, feeling guilty for your line of thinking and deciding that if you were going to win then it wasn’t going to be somewhere this desperate. Despite only being a pawn in your ego filled game, Heeseung was still a person and deserved better than a quick fuck on top of a bathroom sink.

“Let me help you cum and then let’s go back to your dorm.” You were whispering into his mouth, hands moving down out of his hair to fidget with the metal button of his jeans and he was stiffening up.

You looked at him in confusion when he was gripping your wrist tightly, stopping you from unbuttoning his pants and awkwardly avoiding looking at you. At first you assumed he was just uncomfortable with taking it further and you were fully prepared to back off until you noticed how red his neck and face were getting, embarrassment and shame rolling off him in waves.

“Oh.” You accidentally let the exclamation fall from your lips, mouth parting in shock at the realization he had came in his pants despite you not even touching him.

He was backing up from you quickly at the sound and clenching his fist together with anxiety, not looking at you and instinctively bringing a hand up to fidget with his glasses even though they weren’t there. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds out of shock, watching him panic.

“That’s okay.” You were attempting to reassure him but you could tell the damage was already done judging by the disbelieving glare he sent you, shaking his head and biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying to stop himself from crying. “Heeseung, it’s fine seriously.”

He didn’t say anything else but he was giving you a heavy glance, eyes upset and frustrated at himself before he was taking a deep shuddering breath and turning to walk out the door, leaving you awkwardly sat on the counter top still trying to catch your breath.

You unfroze after a few seconds and went to go and follow after him, surprising yourself as you ignored people’s questioning stares at your worried expression as you stood on your tiptoes and tried to find him inside the crowd. You were having no luck and you figured he must’ve just left completely until you spotted one of his friends standing by himself in the kitchen, refilling his cup. You made your way over to him quickly.

“Park.” Your voice was raised so he could hear you over the music and he turned at the sound with a raised eyebrow, face hardening in worry when he realized who it was that said his name. “Did you see where Heeseung went?”

“What happened?” He was rushing out and his face softened in concern, reaching down into his pocket to grab his phone and you assumed he was texting or calling the boy. “What did you say?”

You were slightly offended that he assumed you had hurt his friends feelings before remembering the whole reason you were messing around with him in the first place, leaning over his shoulder to try and see the text message he was sending Heeseung. He glared and turned his phone screen away from your nosy eyes which made you sigh.

“I didn’t say anything.” You spat out at him, glaring back in his direction and crossing your arms. “It’s none of your business what happened but I really didn’t do anything.”

He was sighing and putting his phone back into his pocket. “He’s leaving with Jake.” You were nodding and turning to leave him alone but him clearing his throat stopped you and you glanced back at him in confusion. “Whatever you’re doing, I really hope you’re not messing with him. He’s been through a lot and I don’t know if he could handle it.”

You tried to keep your expression stony, knowing that he was particularly perceptive and he’d definitely catch the flash of guilt passing through you if you let it show even slightly. You didn’t say anything and his eyes grew more suspicious at your silence, shaking his head in disappointment and wandering off before you had the chance to.

——

You showed up to classes early the next Monday, standing in front of Heeseung’s first one of the morning and waiting patiently for him to arrive so you could talk to him.

You caught sight of him not too long after you got there, walking in with Jake and Yang Jungwon. He immediately froze when he saw you and his eyes widened, turning around swiftly to try and go back down the hallway but he was stopped by his friends holding his arms tightly and walking him towards you.

“Delivery for Y/N.” Jake was smiling at you when they approached with him captured and you gave him a sheepish one in return, feeling slightly awkward with the way the other two boys were eyeing you with excitement. It wasn’t like you to get easily embarrassed but you weren’t sure how much they knew about you.

They were ditching him with a pat on the back and a knowing look, disappearing into the classroom and leaving you stood in the hallway with a frozen Heeseung.

“Hey.” You were mumbling to him and he glanced up at you, cheeks already reddening despite the fact you didn’t say anything of substance yet. You were tucking your hair behind your ear uncomfortably and he stiffened up at the realization you were also feeling embarrassed for once.

“I’m sorry.” He was rushing out and shaking his head, looking around the hallway like he was worried somebody was going to overhear him. “I made a total fool out of myself and I get it if you never want to see me again.”

“Heeseung.” You cut off his rambling abruptly and gestured around yourself with a raised eyebrow. “I’m awake way too early and stood outside a class I don’t take… I think it’s pretty clear I don’t mind seeing you.”

He reddened more at that but for different reasons now, complete struck and confused by the fact that somebody as charming and experienced as you would want to spend time with him even after he’d came in his pants like a 14 year old boy. He itched the back of his neck nervously and you watched his glasses slide down his nose, smiling softly without realizing you were.

“Not too happy about being left in the bathroom of a shitty frat party.” You made sure you kept your voice light and teasing despite the actual hurt you’d felt that night, tugging down your skirt and awkwardly pushing past drunk college students to call a cab home.

“I’m sorry.” He was mumbling but he sounded honest, taking a step closer to you at the look on your face and you gave him another smile, reaching forward to grip onto his sweater sleeve before glancing around the way he always did when you interacted.

However this time was different apparently considering he was keeping his eyes down at you, not caring who saw the two of you talking at such a close distance. He felt stupid for last night and being so wary about being around you in public, for doubting your intentions just because you had a poor reputation. You were smiling at him and holding his wrist gently in your hands, forgetting your reasoning for coming here for a moment.

Movement behind him was catching your attention and you moved your gaze around his tall shoulder, freezing completely when you caught sight of a few of your “friends” laughing and snickering meanly as they watched the two of you interact. You were dropping his hand and his eyebrows furrowed, following your line of sight and awkwardly shifting when he saw the people watching you.

“Are they your friends?” He was whispering to you, sensing how uncomfortable you were and also remembering how little he actually knew about you. He was slightly intimidated by your friends and their habits but he’d felt the same about you before he got to know you more, almost waving at them until you were grabbing his arm again to stop him.

“No, they’re not.” You were sternly shaking your head when he looked back at you with a confused glance, remembering them sitting beside you at the party where you’d first talked.

You felt sickness in your stomach when one of the girls nudged the others with her sharp elbow and gave you a knowing look, starting to approach the two of you. You recalled her being the one at the party who said she’d attempted to get with Heeseung before and he rejected her, fearing what her ego and pride would cause her to say to him now.

“Hey Y/N.” She was smiling when she got closer, the others trailing behind, but her grin was mean and telling. She had trouble growing in her eyes and you didn’t like the way she started at the tall boy who was getting more uncomfortable by the second, sending you panicked gazes as he realized her tone wasn’t friendly. “Is it going well then? Did you do it?”

“Wonyoung.” You were warning her with a shake of your head, squeezing Heeseung’s wrist without meaning to. Normally she listened to you well, whether it was because respect or fear, but you could tell she was picking up on the emotion in your eyes and using your rare show of vulnerability to her advantage.

“Do what?” Heeseung was whispering from beside you and you could feel his gaze on you, only asking you and not paying the other girl any attention.

You didn’t respond to him but you sighed softly and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, stomach turning painfully as you tried to think of a way out of this situation. Sunghoon’s words from the other night were ringing in your head and it was coupled with the soft look Heeseung had given you before kissing you again.

“So no then?” She was pouting and kissing her teeth softly like she was disappointed, a low hiss dragging out and filling the heavy silence that was taking over everytime somebody stopped speaking. “You could always give up you know, if he’s playing hard to get.”

It was clear what she was talking about now and you felt Heeseung stiffen in your hold, you wanted to drop his hand but you couldn’t move your body in fear of giving anything away or seeing his reaction. You could hear his breath catching in his throat in realization and you started to shake your head but he was tugging his arm away from you and taking a few steps backwards.

You finally looked at him and your expression crumbled at the look on his face, partially hurt and disgusted but you could tell he mainly felt embarrassed and humiliated for thinking you actually had liked him, his eyes darting all around and cowering away from the amused looks of the people gathered around Wonyoung like he was afraid of them.

“Hee.” You were breathing out, surprising yourself at how quiet and weak your voice was coming out.

The sound of you talking seemed to snap him out of his panic and he gave you one more heavy look, eyes watery and clenching his jaw before he was turning on his heel and disappearing down the hallway.

“He’s missing a class? I guess he’s experiencing at least one of his first times.” She was chiming out and the group behind her let out approving laughs, sounding ridiculous and practiced in a way that made your lip snarl up in disgust.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You were spitting out at her and shoving her shoulder slightly, fear flashing through her face for just a second before it was hardening back into a mean glare as she sneered down at you.

“Did you forget what you are to us? What you were doing with him in the first place?” Her words were direct and harsh, confirming your initial worries that they hadn’t actual ever cared about you outside of needing some entertainment. “Don’t tell me you actually managed to like him?”

She said it like it was something ridiculous, like he was impossible to have feelings for or rather you were incapable of feeling things towards anybody and you felt sick again at the realization she was right.

You had started to like Heeseung, way more than you had even realized until he was walking away from you and giving you such a broken look. You’d never felt this terrible about hurting somebody before and you would’ve immediately chased after him if it wasn’t for the anger coursing through you keeping you rooted to your spot.

“Don’t talk about him again.” You were spitting at her, taking a step closer and her eyes looked hesitant for a second like she had just realized how serious you were about this. “Don’t even look at him I mean it, all of you. Leave the both of us alone.”

You expected her to say something else, to not let you go that easy but she seemed surprised by how genuinely upset you were, not used to you actually caring about the people or situations they challenged you to put yourself in messy environments with.

You were turning and following down the hallway before you could think about it more, picking up speed until you were almost in a jog although you were pretty positive he was long gone by now. When you pushed outside a cold chill ran through you and you sighed softly at the barren campus, his long legs and habit of running away giving him the advantage.

It was embarrassing how upset you were getting, your eyes watering now as you decided to just head back to your dorm, wiping your teary eyes with your sleeves and keeping your head down incase anybody walked past.

——

A few hours of wallowing in your own self pity and you quickly realized how absolutely idiotic you were, not even capable of texting him and asking to talk considering you’d been so inconsiderate you’d never even asked him for his number. He had little social media which didn’t surprise you and you almost messaged one of his friends out of desperation but decided against it knowing they most likely were already wishing you the worst.

It was extremely rare Heeseung ever missed a class and you imagined they’d been weirded out enough to pry the truth out of him, hating you more than they already had.

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, tightly laid in your bed trying to pretend the day hadn’t happened and going over every possible way to get Heeseung’s trust back. You must’ve dozed off considering you were waking up in a jolt at the sound of rough knocks on your door.

You were frozen for a few seconds in tired confusion before you were rushing to get up and answer the door, briefly catching the clock on the wall alerting you to the fact it was the middle of the night. You felt anxious swinging the door open, knowing it must be important if they were here this late but you froze when you saw who it was standing at your door.

Or more accurately, crumpled in a messy ball on your door mat. Heeseung’s large frame was slumped down on the dirty cement and for a second you thought he might be unconscious until he was picking his head up, eyes hazy with big tears streaming down his red cheeks. He let out a small sob when he saw you looking down at him with worry and you crouched down quickly.

“Hee, what happened?” You were rushing out although you had a pretty good idea, your hands coming up to rub his back gently knowing there was no point in attempting to lift him off the ground. “Are you drunk?”

He was shaking his head to say no but you could smell the alcohol rolling off of him in waves, heavy and gross like he’d been drinking for quite some time before ending up at your door. Your heart ached again thinking about him uncharacteristically getting wasted because how badly you’d upset him. “Can you stand up?”

“Why don’t you l-like me?” He was hiccuping out and totally ignoring what you were requesting from him, gripping onto your arms that were still trying to gently rub his back and he was looking up at you with his big round eyes full of fat tears.

“Heeseung.” You were sighing softly and not answering him, patting him on the back slightly to try and keep his attention on what you were originally saying. “Come inside with me and then we can talk, we don’t want anybody to complain.”

He clearly wasn’t coherent enough to comprehend the second half of what you said but he perked up at the idea of being invited inside, using the support of your doorway and your body to stand to his fully height, wobbling slightly as you helped him inside and lowered him down onto your bed. You tried not to think about the last time he was in here, watching him with tired eyes and frowning.

You were reaching down into his pant pockets to try and find his cellphone, feeling slightly sick at the soft cries he was still letting out as he drunkenly lost control of his emotions. You finally found it and pulled it out, swiping up the screen and pleased to see he didn’t have a password set.

“W-what are you doing?” He was mumbling out as he tried to watched you, not able to keep his head still. You sat beside him so he could see what you were doing on his screen, not saying anything when he rested his head gently against your shoulder. “Jake?”

“Yeah baby, I’m calling Jake.” You sighed softly and rubbed his knee for a second, trying to calm down his sniffles before you called his friend and accidentally caused a panic at the sound of him blabbering in the background.

“Why can’t I stay with you?” He was asking and his voice cracked in pain, the smell of liquor on his breath making you wince. “You d-don’t like me.” He was repeating what he had asked you earlier and shaking his head against your shoulder.

“I do like you.” You eventually managed to say, knowing he most likely wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning anyways. He didn’t stop crying but he didn’t say anything else for a few moments, just leaning his weight against you as you held his phone and contemplated what to do. He watched as you pressed the call button and didn’t say anything else.

“Dude, where the fuck did you go?” Jake’s voice was slurring through the phone on the second ring, clearly worried and searching for the older boy. “Heeseung?”

“It’s Y/N.” You awkwardly interjected and the silence was heavy. You could vaguely hear him repeat your name to somebody and you assumed he was telling Sunghoon who it was on the other line. “He was outside my door, I don’t know how he got here.”

“We’re on our way.” Jake sighed back but he sounded more frustrated now, maybe at himself for letting his friend drunkenly crawl back to the person who had hurt him so bad. Heeseung cried harder again when he heard his friends comment from where he was laying against you and Jake didn’t say anything for a second at the sound.

“He doesn’t want to go.” You explained in an awkward whisper, not wanting to get in between whatever agreement they had come to about you.

You knew you deserved the harsh tone of his voice and the prolonged silence over the phone while he decided what to do, holding your breath and waiting despite not being too sure yourself what you wanted his answer to be. He was clearing his throat suddenly and Heeseung perked up at the sound.

“I can drop by in the morning and grab him.” He was letting out slowly and he sounded hesitant, Heeseung nuzzling against your neck contently at his friends words. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah.” You were rushing out before you even realized you were speaking, squeezing the boys knee again when he hugged your free arm that wasn’t holding up the phone. “That’s no problem. Thanks Jake.”

Your words had a double meaning and you had no doubt the other boy had picked up on the relief in your voice, humming softly before whispering a goodbye and hanging up the phone. You kept it against your ear for a few seconds longer before turning it off and placing it gently down on your bedside table, looking over at its owner.

He was watching you with a saddened expression and you gave him a smile that didn’t meet your eyes, eyeing his outfit and lack of glasses.

“I lost them.” He mumbled when he noticed you looking, able to hold contact with you better considering he was wasted and not able to see properly. You felt relieved he had somehow managed to safely get to your dorm in this state, thinking about asking him but realizing he probably didn’t even remember. “Sunghoon said I should try to have fun.”

“Did you?” Your voice cracked as you asked him although you already knew what his answer would be.

“Did you ever like me?” He was ignoring your question and spinning it back on you, his eyes sad again even though he had stopped sobbing after getting confirmation he was allowed to spend the night.

You considered not answering him, already having a difficult time admitting it to yourself let alone telling him so directly. Liking him meant explaining yourself, having to tell him why you had talked to him in the first place and just blindly hope he would trust you enough to believe it had become real for you along the way despite having no reason to think you were telling the truth.

“I do like you.” You told him sternly, ignoring how uncomfortable it felt to express your feelings so directly.

He deserved to know it was possible for somebody to like him, he deserved far better than you and the games you had played with him for the amusement of other people.

“I’m not that drunk.” He was shaking his head, potentially figuring out that you were being so honest under the guise he would forget it all in the morning. “We started drinking forever again, I’m just a lightweight I think. I was just upset.”

You could tell he was under exaggerating a little bit considering how he was still rocking back and forth slightly and his eyes were red and glossy but now that he had calmed down he was definitely more coherent, the alcohol just helping him speak more confidently rather than put him in a totally messy blacked out state.

“Ask me again tomorrow then.” You were telling him softly and turning to face him better, cupping his cheeks in your hands and giving him a sad smile.

He seemed to notice the slight tears in your eyes and the heavy guilt you were feeling for hurting him this bad and he stayed silent for a few beats, watching you like he was trying to decide what to say. His drunk mind had brought him back to you but you weren’t sure if he’d want to stay once he was thinking more clearly.

“And you’ll say it again then?” He was eventually asking you and the familiar hint of insecurity was seeping into his voice again.

You knew you’d made it worse, added onto whatever issues the situations he’d dealt with in the past had created but you felt deep in your heart that if he would give you another chance, if he decided tomorrow this was worth a shot, you’d spend as long as he’d allow you trying to fix the damage done.

“I’ll say it for as long as you let me.” You were whispering back to him and his face softened slightly, lips twitching up in a small grin as he nodded softly and let you wipe the remaining wetness from his eyes.

The two of you crawled into your small bed together, clumsily helping him out of his uncomfortable clothes and not feeling any sensual energy whilst carrying out the domestic act, just laughing together under your breaths as you tried your hardest to get him out of his tight jeans.

You were tucking in underneath your blanket, the unfamiliarity of having somebody in your bed with you being overwhelmed by the comfort his presence brought you, his hair messily sprawled against your favorite pillow and looking at you with low and tired eyes. You weren’t sure if he’d feel this content in the morning, if he only accepted your words because the high in his system or the longing he felt for you due to his own sadness.

But you were happy with your situation for now, knowing that if you needed to do it all again for him tomorrow you would. Continuing on for as long as he needed, for as long as he’d let you.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #jake enhypen #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fanfic #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung imagine #heeseung fic

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missmeinyourbones · 6 months

Text

DRANK DRY THE RIVER LETHE

"These days I think I owe my life

To flowers that were left here by my mother,

Ain't that like them, gifting life to you again?

- First Time, Hozier

a/n: trying baby daddy touya, brief mentions of pregnancy, reader is exhausted and dealing w some parental impostor syndrome, reader and baby are referred to as touya's girls

Touya comes home to a crying baby, something that has slowly become the new norm for him.

The fall breeze is uncomfortably chilly now that the sun has long gone down, and he can hear the familiar shrieks and hiccups before he's able to unlock and open the apartment door.

You don't hear him enter over the whines of the baby you cradle and caress in your hold. Touya's met with the back of your head and the sound of your desperate coos as he kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, making his way over to his girls. His family.

"Hey," he makes it a point to speak before letting his hand come to rest on your lower back. You'd think he'd have mastered how jumpy you are after all this time, but you flinch all the same at the sound of his voice.

He lets the warmth of his touch press up against your skin in an attempt to comfort you, but the second he's able to catch your eye, he knows it'll require a lot more than that to soothe your worries.

From your gaze alone, he can sense your panic almost immediately.

"She won't stop crying," is the first thing you say to him.

It comes out rushed and nervous, like you've been waiting for him to return home for hours. You have been, he knows to be true even though you don't say it.

He winces a bit as he takes in your appearance. You look smaller than he's ever remembered, and perhaps there's a truth to that old saying about not noticing something as it happens right before you, until it's already too late.

Your eyes are dark with exhaustion, his t-shirt swallowing you whole is covered with what he knows to be stains of vomit and spit-up. Your body doesn't stop moving, heels don't stop bouncing softly back and forth as you attempt to soothe your daughter in any way possible.

He doesn't ask how long you've been at this.

The haste returns when you continue, "She's not hungry, I've changed her three times, her temperature is normal, and I hate that I even checked her temperature more than once because she fucking hates it and--"

A calloused palm finds your head, gently brushing the tousled hair behind your ear and trying to rub the tension from behind your neck.

"Hey, hey. Easy."

He tries to console you. His tone is a bit cautious, like he's trying to slowly approach a wild and contaminated animal, but it comforts you all the same.

His heart hurts as he watches you take a shaky inhale, holding it for a brief moment before exhaling it just as uneasily. You're drained.

If this was three months ago, he'd instantly grab your wrist--force you to lay on top of him in bed until you inevitably pass out and succumb to your own exhaustion.

But things are different now, and he's not just in charge of you anymore. He has two girls to take care of, one being a lot more helpless than the other who needs him just as badly right now.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," you weakly admit through the tears that sit heavy in the back of your throat.

Nothing, Touya wants to say. He doesn't even think you're capable of doing something that isn't right, but he's self-aware enough to bite his tongue and focus on the task at hand.

His eyes fall to where the bundle of baby still shrieks and sobs against your arms. He slowly reaches to rub a soft finger against her puffy cheek before sighing to himself.

"Don't babies cry for no reason sometimes?" he mumbles.

"She doesn't cry like this for you."

He knows it's the fatigue behind your bite, so he chooses to ignore the harsh comparison.

"Yeah, she does, baby," he calmly breathes. "You're just tired."

Wordlessly, he motions for you to hand your daughter to him, and the pass happens naturally for all three of you. She leaves your arms and enters his without so much of a struggle. And you can't shake the failure that weighs heavy on your shoulders as you watch him gently bounce the baby on his hip, her cries almost immediately softening by being in his mere presence.

It takes all of thirty seconds before she's practically silent, resting on his chest and babbling herself into a calm drowsiness. His hand cradles the back of her head gently, mimicking how it did yours mere moments ago.

The scene before you is all you've ever wanted, and it's finally yours. And you absolutely hate that you feel a sob of exhaustion wrack through your chest, ruining a moment you never thought you'd have.

Touya watches you shrink before him, your eyes on the peaceful scene before you as you choke out a teary, "She hates me."

"Bullshit, c'mere."

He readjusts your baby so she's comfortably supported with one arm, using the other to snake around your shoulders and pull you in with them. You feel his hand flat against your sore back, rubbing gentle circles and pressing you into his warmth.

The three of you stand huddled together, all clinging onto one another in one way or the other. The baby in Touya's hold rests her sock-covered foot on the flat of your arm. You lean into Touya's chest, head right next to your daughter's as he whispers sweet reassurances. You don't need to ask to know they're meant for the both of you.

After a few minutes, Touya pulls away a bit, but only to use both hands to place the baby back in her crib. The transition is easy and she's out cold as she sinks into the tiny mattress pad and sprawls out.

The two of you lean on one another, hovering over the wood to watch her sleep. Her eyelids flicker with movement, her chubby fingers squeezing around nothing every now and then.

Eventually, Touya tiredly whispers into your hair, “I learned all this from you, y'know."

Sniffling with heavy eyes and a confused pout, you weakly turn your head up to look at him in confusion.

Assuming he's talking about parenthood, his words don't make any sense in your fatigued and spiraling mind.

You learned together. He was there in the hospital when the midwives walked you through swaddling and latching and burping. When you'd discovered that your daughter preferred to eat after napping because nursing before made her sick. Watching online tutorials on which bassinet is safest for newborns---Touya was there, for all of it. He didn't learn anything about this from you.

But when he looks down into your watery eyes, through the dark of the nursery and against the shallow breaths of your sleeping daughter, you realize he's not talking about that.

His voice is a mere whisper when he confesses, “Like, how to love her right.”

Sniffling and swollen, you open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Utterly speechless, you just stare at him a bit dumbly.

Touya fights off a smirk at your uncharacteristic silence, directing his attention back to the sleeping baby once more.

"Wouldn't know how to do this if it wasn't for you, letting me learn how to love you," he admits.

He reaches down into the crib to where she sleeps on her back, arms spread out and upward like she's stretching her tiny limbs. He takes the tips off his fingers and gently rubs her onesie-covered tummy.

“So, when she feels it from me," he whispers, not taking his eyes off of the annoyingly perfect baby before him, "it’s really just an extension of you.”

A moment of silence passes. In the heaviness of the moment, he almost thinks you didn't hear him. But he's proven wrong--something he's learned is often the case with you--when he turns his head to where you wait. Touya sees your eyes and cheeks glistening with newly shed tears, no longer the dried ones from your weariness and anxiety, gleaming up back at him.

He can't help but shake his head and laugh at the soft sight before him, withdrawing his hand from the baby's tummy and wrapping it around your shoulder.

He ushers your head into his chest, muttering a loving, “Alright crybaby, c'mon.”

He lets you sniffle and close your eyes against the cheap cotton of his shirt, letting his own eyes shut and resting his chin atop your head.

Slowly, but all the same, you feel that gentle sting of guilt eventually fade from your lungs with each gentle exhale. With heavy eyes and bad posture, you ground yourself through the senses around you. Touya's skin against yours, the sounds of gentle sighs and sniffles. The baby, the one that you had together, safe in her crib with the sole responsibility of innocently existing.

You don't want to ever forget this, or maybe you do. Half of you wishes you could forget it, just to receive the blessing of experiencing it for the first time all over again.

“Also use my quirk sometimes,” you think you hear muffled into the crown of your skull.

You open your puffy eyes to look up at him, confused.

"What?"

You watch Touya smugly shrug as he brushes the stray and sticky hairs from your clammy forehead. A sly blush creeps up his neck and jaw when he fights off a smile.

"Warm my hand up and put it on her stomach," he admits casually, caressing your soggy cheek, "shuts her right up."

You laugh, wet and pathetic and absolutely enamored by him, "That's cheating, you asshole."

You don't blame her, you think, considering the countless times you've requested the same thing from him. From period cramps to pregnancy pain to just wanting to feel him--maybe it's genetic, having your DNA and craving his warmth simultaneously.

You decide that Touya must be thinking the same thing, because he simply chuckles with you, rubbing your back as you feel the familiar heat of his fingers begin to tingle.

"Yeah, yeah," he kisses your head, "wonder where she learned that from."

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #dabi fic #touya todoroki fic #dabi angst #dabi fluff #touya fic #touya fluff #touya angst

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banamine-bananime · 20 days

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Growing up I lived in an area with a lot of cattle farming and I was very scared of the cows. Do you have any cool facts that will make me either more or less afraid of cows?

oh hmm let me think on that!

facts related to how to interact with cows so all parties feel and stay safe:

they have a very prey herd animal mentality. they want to move with their herdmates. they want to watch any potential threats like people and move away from them. they don't like loud or unfamiliar noises (they're sensitive souls. sometimes if i visit a dairy wearing waterproof coveralls where the cows are only used to people wearing cotton coveralls, just the whisper of waterproof pants rubbing against each other can spook them) or abrupt movements or going into areas they can't see well (and they have difficulty with depth perception due to their wide-set eyes for 300 degree vision, and with high-contrast, so going from sun into shade or vice versa can look like stepping into a white or black void for them and they don't like it)

based on this, we know the keys to low-stress cattle handling are consistency in how you interact with them, calmness (small movements, quiet words to let them know you're there), moving cows in groups big enough to have friends but small enough you can control the whole group without them milling around or the ones in front stopping and causing a traffic jam, and slowly moving them by just barely getting in their "bubble" of "whoa, you're a little too close for comfort, i'm going to move in the other direction" without ever getting into their "YIKES RUN AWAY FROM THIS THING" bubble

the last point involves understanding pressure and flight zones and point of balance:

from Mississippi State University Extension:

from grandin.com (highly recommend as a source of information about animal behaviour and welfare!!! temple grandin my idol since i was like nine i love her so. and i tear up when i think about how much she's done for millions of animals ;_; she's a genius and no lie revolutionized low-stress handling):

pet cows that get doted on enough to bond with people may not see people as a threat so the normal ways we use pressure zones to iinteract with cows don't necessarily do anything for them. you would lead them more like a horse, using a halter. or lure them with treats.

beef cows typically have little contact with people, often just processing (vaccines, preg checks, quick exam for any health problems) a couple times a year, so they can be very wild. doesn't mean they're aggressive, the overwhelming majority are non-aggressive but they have very large flight zones, so if you don't recognize that and approach too quickly, getting deep in their flight zone, that can get you into a dangerous situation where they get aggressive as a last resort. that said, they do usually still choose flight unless their calf is with them. "never get between mom and baby" applies as it does with any species

dairy cows are in between beef cows and pet cows. they interact with people regularly, several times per day, and it's respectful but not doting. kind of a business relationship with their handlers. they're not terrified of people by any means, but they haven't been, like, hand-fed treats to get over their instinctive wariness of potential-predator-like animals, and they know sometimes handling results in unpleasant experiences like medical treatment or pregnancy checks, so they avoid touch and have a flight zone, though it's small (and sometimes they'll calmly let you walk right up to them unrestrained, or approach you and lick you out of curiosity). very very rare to have an aggressive dairy cow (as in, one that attacks you instead of moving away when you're bothering them a little. really bothering them and ignoring body language when they can't move away is much more likely to get you kicked)

bulls are not docile. not every bull will be aggressive, but you should assume that every bull has the capacity to become aggressive with little provocation, and always keep a respectful distance and know your escape route if you have to be in a pen or field with them

cows love exploring with their tongues. any time you're in a dairy barn there's gonna be at least one friendly girl mlem mlem mlemming who won't leave you alone

adding on to the above, there is a slight caveat that you still have to be a LITTLE wary of friendly cows. 99% of the time they're just friendly but sometimes cows in heat will try to mount people. you don't have to be scared of friendly cows but if they're right next to you just keep them in your line of sight so you can move away if they make like they're going to mount. again, not common, never happened to me, but something to be aware of

signs of a happy, relaxed cow: lying down, chewing cud or eating, tail hanging down relaxed, moving slowly with her herd

signs of a slightly wary cow (you have entered the "pressure zone"): standing still/stopping what she's doing, turning towards you, ears turning towards you (watching the ears is a very good way of knowing what she's paying attention to), tail swishing or raised a bit away from body

signs of a distressed cow: vocalizing (they also moo for other reasons though), tail swishing, fidgeting/pawing/looking like she wants to move but doesn't know where to, freezing up and intermittently making erratic movements (back away a little)

signs of an aggressive cow: head down with attention on you, pawing ground, turning to show you their broad side. (turn sideways and calmly but swiftly walk away diagonally)

#cattle #veterinary

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sidekick-hero · 4 months

Text

tangled with what I never said

(steddie | mature | 994 words | @steddiemas angsty sentence starters and @steddieholidaydrabbles modern au prompts)

NOW WITH A PART 2

"I don't know what you want from me!" Eddie yells, his face contorted in misery.

He doesn't want to fight. He doesn't want to feel the way he does, confused and angry and miserable. He doesn't want to lose Steve.

"I want to know what's wrong. You can talk to me, man. You know you can, right?" Steve's voice wavers at the question, his hazel eyes imploring Eddie to tell him what's wrong so Steve can fix it.

The problem is, Steve can't fix it. Not this one.

Eddie lets out a deep sigh, feeling all his anger drain out of his body, leaving behind a weariness that feels too big for his body. He's just so tired of feeling like this.

"I don't know what to say, Steve. I told you, I'm just tired, okay? Go back to Sam and enjoy your date. I'm fine."

Steve doesn't move, just looks at him with that hurt look on his face and Eddie doesn't know why, but it reignites that seemingly ever-present flame of hot anger in his stomach.

"Stop. Stop looking at me like that." He snaps and sees Steve jump at the sharpness in his voice. They've been roommates for two years now, and friends for almost as long, and Eddie can count the times they've fought on one hand.

"Like what?"

"Like I killed your puppy or something. Like I hurt you when you're the one -" Eddie snaps his mouth shut, but it's too late. Fuck his traitorous mouth that keeps running off and ruining his life.

Steve takes a step forward, then another, inching closer like he's approaching a wild, cornered animal. "When I'm the one hurting you? Is that what's going on, Eddie, have I hurt you?" His hand reaches for Eddie and Eddie wants to take it so badly. That's the problem, isn't it? He wants and wants and wants.

He wants to be happy for Steve, he really does. He wants to smile and congratulate him for finally finding someone he likes enough to take out on dates and kiss good night and hold his hand with that happy smile on his face. Someone to hold him and fuck him so good that Eddie can hear it through the wall separating their bedrooms.

But most of all, Eddie wants to be that person for Steve.

"Eddie?" Steve's voice jolts him from his thoughts as a warm hand settles on his upper arm. "What did I do? Please, tell me."

"You didn't do anything..."

"Bullshit!" Steve shouts, and Eddie swears he can hear that one word echoing through his mind. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

"Steve," he tries, but is cut off by Steve's shaking voice, a stark contrast to the tight grip on his arm.

"No, Eddie. You can't... I can't do this anymore, watching you pull away. It's like. I don't know. Like you're disappearing before my eyes. And I... fuck." He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was after the heavy make-out session Eddie had come home to earlier than planned. His eyes find Eddie's and Eddie's stomach drops when he sees the tears glistening in them. "I miss you, okay? I fucking miss you."

"I'm right here," Eddie whispers. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say, but they're all stuck in his throat, slowly choking him.

Steve moves even closer so that their faces are only inches apart, his eyes never leaving Eddie's, and whispers back, "No, you're not. Not really. You're like a ghost story." Eddie can feel Steve's breath against his own lips and thinks Steve must be trembling before he realizes that no, that's him.

"Steve, please." He doesn't know what he's pleading for. Maybe to take back those stupid words he said to Steve fourteen months ago.

It was a mistake.

We were drunk and high and I didn't mean it.

We can still be friends.

Maybe he's begging Steve to take the thoughts out of his head so he doesn't have to say them.

I'm sorry.

I was scared because I didn't want to lose you.

I'm so in love with you that some days it feels like it's killing me and I want to let it.

Steve's big, warm hand cradles his face and Eddie leans into it like a flower starving for the nurturing touch of the sun. They are so close that Eddie can feel Steve's body shaking as well, and Eddie doesn't know what it means, but he wants to take Steve and hold him until it stops. Until they can both be put back together again.

"Eddie, I -"

A knock interrupts what Steve is about to say. "Babe, is everything okay?"

Eddie feels his heart crumple in his chest at the sound of Steve's boyfriend's voice.

"Yeah, just give me a second." Steve calls over his shoulder, but when he turns around, Eddie steps away from him.

"Go to your boyfriend, Steve." Eddie tells him before grabbing his jacket and walking out of his bedroom and towards the door. He doesn't know where he's going, just that he hopes they're both gone when he gets back.

He walks aimlessly through the night, replaying their fight over and over again. The way he reacted when he saw Steve and Sam making out on the couch, how Steve followed him, confronted him. Steve telling him he missed him with tears in his eyes and holding his face so gently afterwards.

Maybe it's his Hail Mary, but he has to tell Steve how he feels, if only to make him understand that it's not Steve who's the problem, but Eddie.

Letting himself into their apartment, he finds it dark and quiet as he tiptoes to his room, and he's glad for the delay.

What he isn't prepared for is the sight of Steve lying on Eddie's bed, fast asleep, clutching Eddie's favorite hoodie to his chest.

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddiemas #my writing #angst with happy ending

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

Text

Yandere Baki Headcanons:

Struck By Cupid II

Yandere Baki Various x Fem Fighter Reader

Part 1

TW: Yandere behavior, stalking, uncomfortable themes, violence, minor smut, dubcon (alcohol), Jun Guevara, masturbation mentioned, and unconsensual touching (kissing and hugs

@abottleoflotion

Pickle

Now you hadn’t meant to catch his attention! You truly hadn’t! But the gods were not on your side the day you met Pickle... The caveman took utmost interest in you when you showed genuine care for your comrades. Pickle took an interest in your tears. A horrifying and unwanted thought, but there was nothing you could do when your tears fell down your face for your defeated comrades. Pickle was quick to pick up on it. You cried just like him… were they your friends like the ones he had back during his time?

Why do you weep for those small, weak males? They are not worth your time when a stronger male like him is around!

Pickle began to approach you more often with an eager smile and bad breath. His clawed fingers ran through your hair as you became rigid. No need to fear! Your mate was here!

But you fought him with your small feet and fists. Something that fascinated him. Was this some sort of mating ritual? If it was, Pickle would indulge you!

You’d always jump whenever Pickle tried to touch or sniff you, but Pickle was determined to have you. Don’t ever worry, he’s quite loyal once he sets his mind to it.

And so began your constant attempts to fight him off whenever he’d follow you around. Pickle didn’t mind a kick to the face if it meant you’d give him attention. And even better, he’d get more chances to sniff you. Pickle was obsessed with how sweet you smelled… it was intoxicating.

Pickle often brought you animal carcasses and wild flowers as a gift. Your poor doormat had to be replaced once a week from all the guts that would be laid out on them from your prehistoric admirer. It was miserable.

Pickle often tried to break into your home to the point Jack and the others began to lurk around to ‘keep you safe.’

The entire ordeal was frustrating. You were no damsel in distress and you certainly weren’t happy with the way all of the other fighters treated you. Couldn’t they understand that you were uninterested in a relationship of any kind?

Yet despite all their best efforts to keep Pickle away, the caveman finally had enough and broke into your home while you were asleep.

In a way, it was kind of funny to wake up to this giant, smelly man cuddling beside you. His large arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your face like a child does to a mother. And his golden eyes peered up at you with so much admiration that you almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Pickle still broke into your home to lay beside you, you counted your stars lucky he didn’t give you the reporter treatment.

You sighed when Pickle cooed at you, his head nuzzled into your neck for comfort while you begrudgingly ran your fingers through his thick brown hair.

“Pickle, you know they’ll be upset if they find you here.” You spoke to the caveman as if he’d understand you. Your eyes glared down at the caveman who continued to purr and coo like a cat of some sort. Pickle was so odd… “You can’t stay here-“

You squealed when he dragged his tongue across the soft skin of your exposed neck, his eyes a bit half lidded. You tried not to retch from the horrid odor from his mouth. In Pickle’s mind, he needed to claim you. Pickle had to mark you so the other males would leave you alone!

Pickle then attempted to pin you under him but you were quick to kick him off you. Your feet landed a wicked blow to his chest that sent him onto the floor of your bed with a soft thud. His golden eyes showed hurt and he bared his fangs at you with a snarl.

“You’re gross, Pickle!” You furiously wiped the spit off your neck with your pajama sleeve. “You can’t be doing that.”

You sighed in defeat when Pickle tilted his head off to the side in curiosity. There was no use speaking to him… Pickle would never understand you.

You rose up and began to pet Pickle’s head like a dog. The caveman immediately perked up and purred at the relaxing sensation, his arms now wrapped around your legs.

You belonged to Pickle. You had just accepted him by giving him affection… Pickle was all yours, a fact that you would soon understand.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Hector Doyle

Oh ho ho ho, what’s this? A convict on the run? One that had blown up the dojo a few times and even disappeared without a trace for months? A convict who was quite smitten with Katsumi and was utterly horrified to find you in the way of their relationship. How dare you. How dare you get in the way of their friendship!

You didn’t even know you ran into a criminal until Hector Doyle stopped you on the street pretending to be a lost woman. He was determined to eliminate you so you’d be out of Katsumi’s life for good. Just a quick slice to your throat and you’d be gone.

“I’m terribly lost, I can’t seem to find my way-“ Doyle felt his breath hitch when you turned around and smiled at him. What a stupidly pretty woman you were… no wonder Katsumi was all over you.

“Oh! I can help you out, Miss. Is there a specific place you’re looking for? We could walk there together if you like since it’s getting late.” Doyle only flushed when you offered him your hand, your sunny smile never faded. You were not only stupidly pretty, but you were stupidly kind too.

Doyle would have to eliminate you another day since more people began to gather in the streets.

He quietly muttered a specific restaurant he had seen prior to coming up to you. The young man shocked that you hadn’t released his hand as you lead him to the restaurant. Your soft voice shared how you only recently came to Japan but that restaurant was a place you often frequented with a friend (a fact Doyle knew since you often stalked you and Katsumi there).

“Here it is! I recommend the tonkorsu ramen here, it’s one of my favorites.” You beamed at the mysterious woman. Doyle knew this fact, of course, but he gave you a smile. You had to be mocking him since that pork ramen was also Katsumi’s favorite. You little bitch.

Doyle decided then and there that he’d earn your trust and then he’d kill you. He wanted to savor your death. To see the light fade from your eyes while you were consumed with betrayal. Yes… he’d take his time with you.

And so began your friendship with the mysterious yet eccentric ‘Doyle.’ The taller ‘woman’ often talked over you, but you didn’t seem to mind. Rather, you seemed happy to have the company of another woman. You trusted Doyle, a fact that made the assassin giddy.

You often confided in Doyle and were always so sweet. Doyle began to look forward to spending time with you, he wanted more of you.

Doyle used to try to get information about Katsumi from you, but he started to realize just how infatuated Katsumi was with you. The more you spoke of the strange happenings with Katsumi, the less interested Doyle became. Perhaps Doyle only sought companionship with Katsumi and had built an unrealistic version of the Karateka in his head? He didn’t know… all he knew was the his heart fluttered when he was with you.

“I appreciate you being my friend, Doyle.” You smiled up at Doyle as you rested your head on her (his) shoulder. “I wish I could spend more time with you…”

Doyle felt his heart flutter when you turned your gaze to look up at him. He was happy he repaired his eyes so he was able to gaze upon your unearthly beauty. It was in this moment that he realized he was in love with you. That his feelings were Katsumi were purely strong attachment since he’s never had positive attention. With you, it was different.

You were warm and so soft… you always reassured him and you never got upset with him talking over you or being a bit mean to you. Doyle knew he didn’t deserve to be in your presence since his ulterior motives had been malicious, but now he was in love with you. Love. Love. Love. LOVE!! He loves you!

Doyle sometimes imagined you beneath him with a knife against your throat, a scene that got him riled up more than anything. He desperately wanted you beneath him… or on top.

Doyle began to steal your clothes, both soiled and clean, when he spent the night. He adored wearing your clothes, just to feel that much closer to you. He was especially fond of soiled clothes since he could drown in your scent. Doyle just couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted so much more than the friendship the two of you had, he wanted a relationship. And it was finally time to reveal himself to you…

“Doyle?” Doyle leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. A gentleness only reserved for you. “I didn’t realize how muscular you were.”

Your nervously chuckled under Doyle’s intense gaze, the redhead’s eyes practically bore a hole into your head. What on earth was going on with your friend?

“Oh (your name)… you’re always so innocent.”

Doyle reached up and pulled off his wig, your eyes widen a bit in shock. Doyle had short hair? The red color was honestly stunning.

“Your hair is such a pretty red-“ you squealed when Doyle pushed you back onto the couch. He took advantage of your surprise so pinned yours above your head.

“You’ve always been so naive… so kind.” Doyle bent forward and pressed soft kisses to your cheeks. “I’m a man, (your name). A man that loves you.”

Doyle chuckled when you pushed him off of you and pinned him down on the couch. A smirk on his devilishly, good-looking face. Yes… that look in your eyes made him squirm with delight. Look at him. Look. At. Him!

“You bastard…” Doyle took advantage of your emotional state to sit up and press his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

“I may be one, but I’m yours. I’m your bastard.”

Jun Guevara

You met this flirt when you went on a vacation to Brazil to try to escape your suitors in Japan. A suave pirate who was smoother than butter. A cheesy pick up line was all it took to make your heart flutter. Jun was bold with his interest in you.

To you, this was a summer fling but you never took into consideration that this was so much more to Jun. The possibility of Jun being madly in love with you never occurred to you. What a fool you were.

You were a bit swayed by his charismatic charm and his honeyed words. It was so odd to be scooped up in a whirlwind romance, but who were you to complain? He was attractive. And he was a passionate lover… although you had avoided getting into bed with him.

There was not a doubt in your mind that he’d blow your mind, but there was a feeling in your gut that told you not to sleep with him. And you would trust your gut, it’s never lied to you once.

“Meu amor, how about I take you sailing?” Jun often took you sailing or sat with you on the beach around a fire as he held you close. He had the scent of coconuts and the ocean. He was the perfect man. The perfect escape.

Jun shared his past with you, he was on open book with radical ideologies that fascinated you. Jun had a way with words no other man that you’ve met, thus far, had. Jun had so much passion for his country and was brave to stand up to a foreign government to protect it. (He was a master manipulator)

Jun was also incredibly romantic. He wasn’t afraid to show public displays of affection nor did he care if you wished to cuddle with him whenever you wanted. Jun was an amazing lover, one you felt so bad about not being with…

Passionate kisses and he constantly offered to go down on you, but you had to refuse his offer. Jun was always a bit too eager for your taste, especially because the two of you didn’t have a label. You were only here for the summer.

“I’m sorry, Jun. I’m only here in your country until summer ends.” You failed to notice the way his face twisted and his blood ran cold. Only for a summer? Didn’t you understand that the two of you were in love?

Jun never pushed further, yet you could feel how passionate his kisses were. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with anyone… a thought that made you nervous.

As you went into your final week in Brazil, Jun encouraged you to drink more around the bon fire. He kept pushing drinks into your hands that you happily accepted. You trusted Jun. His forehead pressed against yours as the two of you exchanged rum flavored kisses and slurred words.

Yet you found yourself faltering in your initial rejections when the kisses became more adamant. When his gentle touches became lustful groping. When he scooped you up into his arms and carried you into his house… when you ended up in his bed with your fingers tangled in his brown locks with his face shoved between your bare legs.

That drunken night, you ended up sleeping with him. A huge mistake.

Jun’s arms pull your bare body against his chest as he pressed hot kisses up and down your shoulders. “Meu anjo, I just can’t get enough of you… I want to hear your pretty voice scream my name again, this time until it’s hoarse.”

“Jun, we can’t-“ You gasp when his fingers give your nipple a harsh pinch, his teeth now sunk into your shoulders in a playful bite.

“Did you not enjoy yourself? You seemed quite satisfied-“

“Jun, I go back to Japan in a few days-“ Jun grabbed your chin so he could slam his lips down on yours. The pirate maneuvered his body to lay on top of yours as he ground his hips into yours. A heat spread through you from his salacious touches.

“You’re not going anywhere, amor.” Jun chuckled, his lips trailed up your neck until he reached your ear. “This is your home now.”

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ozzgin · 8 months

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Yandere! Baki Headcanons (II)

Featuring Jack Hanma, Kaoru Hanayama, Katsumi Orochi and Chiharu Shiba since the latest Baki season is out. TW: Violence, dubious consent

[Baki Masterlist] [Part I]

Jack Hanma

Once Jack finds a purpose or a goal to achieve, he will hunt it down in deplorable mania with no regard to any impediment along the way. He’s deemed you to be his newfound motivation and minor details such as your opinion of it are but a slight detour. He’s already had one dream robbed from him - that of being the strongest. He’s not as generous as to accept yet another loss. Really, (Y/N), why so afraid? He promises you won’t regret it.

Outside of his obsessive tendencies, Jack is rather kind and understanding. He pays great attention to detail when it comes to you and is willing to go to great lengths for your sake. Being a servant on the knee is a small price to pay if he gets to see your satisfied expression. What a strange effect you have on him. To think that his pride immediately crumbles at your feet…No, it’s the other way around. It’s because of you that he can keep his head up, no matter what.

Jealousy or possessiveness are not things that plague Jack. His mere presence is enough to signal loud and clear that you’re not to be approached. Like a wild animal guarding his territory, he finds intruders a warm-up sport to entertain himself with and nothing more. But what if, say, it was you trying to get out instead? Now that would be just plain nonsense. No one else can guarantee your safety to such degree. You must be confused, and in situations like these Jack has no choice but to bring you back to your senses. Regardless of what it takes.

I have to say, if you choose Jack as your boyfriend you should definitely brace yourself. He has vowed to shield you from all threats, but his love for you doesn’t count as one. The fact that you’re laying there bruised all over further shows how intoxicating you are to him. His brain turns into mush and the only thing he can focus on is that you belong entirely to him. He could crush you, break you, kiss you until your lips bleed, hold you until your ribs crack. He holds the power over you and you have willingly offered this vulnerability to him. He doesn’t expect you to hold back, either. He is yours to mark as you please.

He will return to his senses and apologize for the vicious, feral attack during intimacy. He is a man of instinct and logic rarely prevails when dealing with temptations. And you, darling (Y/N), happen to be the strongest drug he’s ever dealt with.

Kaoru Hanayama

Hanayama is initially very conflicted about his feelings. Has he not sworn to dedicate himself entirely to the Family? What kind of puny leader loses focus in the middle of an important agreement between clans to think of a normal civilian? What kind of respected kumichou asks his subordinates to take a detour in their debt collection to check on some regular human? Here he is, sitting between the women working for his business, reluctant to touch them in fear of being disloyal. To whom? You don’t even know him and he’s already built an entire code of honor to follow. Shameful.

It doesn’t take him too long to rationalize his inexplicable attachment. Just like his father had found his mother, he too was bound to stumble upon someone for him, a partner fit to bear the weight of the family honor. He isn’t betraying his Group, he’s providing it with an equally capable leading hand. Oh, he just knows you’ll do great. You were made for this. You were made for him.

Confessing to you is a difficult task. Hanayama usually conveys his feelings with his fists, and he’d rather not pummel you down as the sweet “will you date me” invitation. So you’ll often find him staring intently at you, a frightening aura surrounding him. Any moment now, he’ll say it. And what if you respond with no? He hasn’t considered that. He’s been so entranced by your future together that he didn’t even entertain the idea you wouldn’t want to be part of it. Small obstacle, you just need a little bit of convincing.

He’s not the type to show his jealously, mainly because there’s no need to. If someone flirts with you, you’re not worried for Hanayama’s feelings but for this stranger’s safety. You’ll choke in terror trying to warn them to step away and if they still persist you know you’ll never see them again. One does not mess with the yakuza and lives to tell about it. Hanayama further contributes to this reputation.

The young man is very much aware of your fragility and would never do anything to permanently damage you. That said, he really can’t help the dizzying adoration that overwhelms him whenever he uses his knife on you. Just small, superficial lines gently tracing across your body, that immediately bloom into bright red flowers, cluttering along until they finally burst into an intricate mosaic. He feels like a poet penning his love for you in the most intimate way conceivable, because you’ve offered yourself as a canvas for his eyes and his control only. The Madonna of his existence.

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi wouldn’t say that he’s taking it too far. He followed all the proper steps, from the innocent secret crush, to shyly confessing his feelings, and finally the drunken delight of hearing your acceptance to date him. There’s nothing wrong with skipping some steps. There’s no textbook claiming that love has to be gradual and evolve in time. If you know you’ve met your soulmate there’s no reason to hold back. And from the moment he laid his eyes on you he’s been certain, this was not mere coincidence.

He’s clumsier than he’d like to admit when it comes to romance, but one thing his extensive karate training has provided him with is discipline. He has a little notebook to keep track of your interests and likes, and if he’s completely clueless about something he will research it later. It helps him keep his plans organized and simultaneously make sure he won’t miss any detail about you.

It he thinks about it, love is a lot like karate indeed. A natural charm for it can hardly compete with raw passion and hard work. Step by step, he can see the fruits of his labor. Martial arts require a cool mind however, and while he’s learned to remain collected and act without haste in a fight, when it comes to you he can’t seem to remain still. His thoughts are burning hot and erratic and the tangled chaos in his head is exhausting. He wishes he could lay out his love for you and carefully smoothen all the folds, but maybe the inability to do so just further proves you’re a special case.

He also doesn’t consider himself to be a jealous individual. Right? In the middle of his training he finds himself idly pondering about such a scenario. He faces the wall, trying to picture a rival that might steal you from him. Silly. You wouldn’t leave him like that. You know how much he loves you. Or do you? He loves you so much. So much. So fucking much. His vision returns and his eyes widen at the large dents and cracks he left in the wall. The skin of his fists is throbbing, irritated.

Katsumi is rather needy during intimate moments. Whether you want him as your dominant or submissive accomplice, he will beg or demand for your words of love. Let him know that you don’t belong to anyone else. That you’re all his, forever and ever and even after death. Always.

Chiharu Shiba

Chiharu is an extremely stubborn man, so if he concludes that he has feelings for you, absolutely no rejection will get through to him. He doesn’t just fall for anyone and isn’t as shallow as to base his interest on appearance alone (though he did almost crash his bike once daydreaming about your face). It’s everything about you that’s convinced him there’s no one else for him. So now he just has to prove that similarly, no one else is better for you.

I feel like he would use his sturdiness and resistance to pain as a way to manipulate you into agreeing with him. You’re unsure whether you like him more than a friend? Is it because he’s not skilled enough? You don’t trust him? He’ll pick random fights with anyone and no matter how battered and bloodied he is, no matter how much you plead he stops, he’ll keep going until he’s dead or until you give in.

It’s his personality to show off. From the flashy bosozoku uniform to his customized retro Kawasaki, he likes to make it clear to others where his priorities lay. That includes his partner, of course. Not only is he the proud leader of Tokkoutai, but more importantly the one you belong to. If he’s feeling extra cheesy he will greet you with a dramatic spin and reveal he had his jacket stitched to some kanji symbols representing your relationship.

Chiharu is not particularly proud of it, but his bouts of jealousy often end in violence. Potential rivals lead him on a downward spiral of anxious what-ifs. He struggles with a certain feeling of inadequacy whenever he compares himself to other fighters. Put him next to someone like Baki and he fades into nothingness; No elaborate fighting skills, just a hard skull and a bunch of dirty tricks. Will that be enough to protect you from anyone? For how long? Before he knows it, his knuckles are dyed red and whoever approached you too fondly is scattered on the ground.

Safe to say this man has a lot of stamina and will be at your service 24/7. Anytime, anywhere. Just let him know. Feeling especially needy? He’ll throw you on the hood of the nearest car and just take care of you regardless of who’s watching. You’re strongly considering keeping a spray water bottle in your bag to keep him under control when you’re in public.

Despite all this he is very soft spoken and careful around you. He would never, ever hurt his precious darling (Y/N). And he won’t allow anything else to hurt you, either. He would die for you. Actually, scratch that. He’ll do you one better. He would kill for you.

#baki #baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki x reader #baki headcanons #jack hanma #katsumi orochi #kaoru hanayama #chiharu shiba #shiba chiharu #yandere baki #yandere x reader

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 month

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Villain: Laormoch, Archfey of the Wild Unknown

Embodying the primal awe and terror of those places beyond the edge of the map, this ancient spirit of the land exists to test and torment those who stray too far from the safety of the familiar.

Though the old stories call him the" thane of the faroff" or an "invisible giant as big as the sky", it is hard to put Laormoch's physicality and the fear it evokes into words: How do you describe being lorded over by ancient trees, or the scornful glare of unfamiliar stars? His shape is only ever suggested by how it bends the natural world, but he is always distant, though always so immense that it feels like he may reach out and crush the viewer.

Adventure Hooks

The party stumble into a village to find its inhabitants struggling to recover after a disastrous hunt. Some wretched beast tore through some weeks ago and was only dispatched with great effort. It was a cause for celebration, at least until the thing was seen stalking in the woods, reading for another attack. To prevent it from assailing their walls and destroying their homes the village's best hunter leads the village's strongest on a sortie, downing the beast only after injuring many and losing a few. This has happened three times so far and the village's defenders are wearing thin. Perhaps the party could lend their aid once the beast is spotted again, and perhaps spend the intervening time trying to find its obviously supernatural origins.

Almost inconsolable, a great lord calls for the party's aid in rescuing his son and heir, who he claims was stolen by the sky itself: snatched out of his tower window by a great hand and carried off into the clouds. The servants and courtiers are skeptical, everyone knows the lord was so protective of his son he barely let the boy leave his rooms, let alone the castle, and it's likely the lad finally managed some means of escape. While they're considering exactly how to search for the lad the party will be approached by the Lord's bastard daughter, she was denied her inheritance by her father's traditionalism, and sees the opportunity to have herself recognized if the true born heir is never found. She'll ask that even if the party does find her younger brother, they either help him escape or leave him where he is, as it would be better for the both of him if he doesn't return to the castle.

Backstory:

Seeking to prove herself against a boastful rival, a hunter ventured far from her village into the deep wilderness, where she found and slew an elk of ethereal beauty, eating its flesh to sustain herself and taking its antlers as her trophy. Though she returned in glory, the beast had been marked by the Thane of the Faroff, who has raised its butchered body as a reverent and gifted it bloodthirsting branches to replace what was taken. The revenant won't stop until it's killed the hunter and torn her body to shreds, which will likely be sometime after she's gotten a good portion of the other villagers killed because she's too good at hunting and too stuborn to die without a fight. The revenant has more than one trick though, the branches animating its body bear seedpods which it scatters as it dies or gores others to death. These seeds eventually grow into twigblights, which are slowly massing in the forest waiting to overwhelm the village's defenders and open the gate for the revenant's final rampage.

Wishing more than anything to get away from the suffocating confines of his home, the young heir has found himself on the wrong end of a fairy bargin. Whisked off by Laormoch to his castle beyond the horizon, the boy has been forced to serve as the archfey's cupbearer as repayment for his captor's "kindness". The party will need to dig deep into the local folklore to figure out how and why the sky might snatch up a forlorn youth, potentially missing him entirely until they run into him while visiting the feywild for a completely different adventure.

Artsource

#villain #villain fey #archfey #wilderness encounter #encounter forest #encounter village #rescue mission #monster hunt #Laormoch

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She's smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn't. (or, alternatively: "No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now.")

pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he's clearly in love with.

author's note: I'm working on 3 fics at the moment, and it's taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er) for starters. I'm a bit more comfortable with sharing this one because I feel like it's actually more of my style (wow, that sounds kinda pretentious). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn't add anything to the story). also, I don't think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don't care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He's been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn't very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond's never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He's used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he's some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that's approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won't be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He's never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He's been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it's a topic he never brings up, it's a humiliating secret that's just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn't withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it'd always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn't get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can't bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it's the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what's going on.

"Aemond," she approaches him, whispering. "What's wrong? Is it the headache again?"

Aemond doesn't want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain."

"I don't think we have time to fuss over me," he declines with a pain-stained voice. "I was under the impression that we're expecting someone to join us today."

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

"Please don't tell me you require motivation," Aegon's voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

"Undoubtedly you've interacted with women before," he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond's suffering. "Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won't run away."

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

"Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself," her voice is tinged with irritation. "Just for one evening. Can you do that?"

Aegon's body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

"As you wish, mother," he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety's bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she's approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It's not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn't seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won't let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she's used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

"Someone is about to get a piece of cake," Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

"Someone needs to shut up," Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn't even tasted yet. Aemond can't help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She's seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

"You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I'm surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience?"

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to Y/N, astonished by his own reaction. It's not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It's just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they're surrounded with.

"I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve," he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can't steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting Y/N lead the conversation. She's easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would've really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That's until she abruptly stops.

"Are you feeling alright?" she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion.

"I apologize if I'm not exactly the best at keeping you company. It's been a long day," he knows he should've come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then Y/N moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It's obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he's the reason their conversation was cut short, but Y/N doesn't make a big deal out of it.

"We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested," she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he'll get any rest as his head feels like it's gripped in an iron vise again.

The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he's almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it's the nausea, he doesn't know nor does he care. He's been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to the King's Landing for a man she's never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there's only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He's passing by Helaena's chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it's not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She's reading to them, and it's a tale they've heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn't need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N's shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

"You are an impatient little thing," Y/N giggles.

"That she is," Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

"Pardon me, I didn't hear you coming in," she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. "Your sister was kind enough to keep me company."

"I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven't left her side ever since," Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

"Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?" Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

"Make sure to be on time for dinner," his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. Y/N mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she's telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, Y/N pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she'll ever be impressed by him.

"This is where you study?" she's admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative "hmm".

"How many of these have you read?"

"Quiet a few," he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

"I wonder what are your preferred subjects."

"History and philosophy," he doesn't mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he's had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady's man.

"Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?" when Y/N glances at him, there's a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she's actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

"I'm afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all," Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

"Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time," she presses the matter further but does so very gently. "Name just a couple."

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don't stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She's never too pushy with her questions, she's making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn't dare to leave Y/N hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

"I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting," she says, almost whispering, when they're seated.

"You did not, no need to fret," Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can't curb the pain that's spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. Y/N is sitting on his right, and Aemond's body can't adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He's so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother's gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it.

He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They're rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That's why, when Aemond opens his eye, he's startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

"I did knock but got no response," she gives him a look that's a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he's unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must've had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks:

"The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago."

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance:

"There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal."

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what's expected of him, it's about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn't want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

"The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other," Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. "It seems like you're getting along quite well?"

"I could think of no better woman than Y/N," Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn't say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn't know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

"Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you'd be happy to know," Alicent gives him a lax smile. "I shall let you go back to sleep," she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he'll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N's chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, Y/N is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can't find her in the library and she isn't in Helaena's chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He's lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

"I've been looking for you," she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they're only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

"We must've passed each other, because I've been looking for you, too," he confesses. Y/N seems very pleased with herself though he isn't sure why.

"I think the weather calls for a walk," she blithely suggests. "Would you like to accompany me?" — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond's looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes Y/N's hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they've done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn't. The feeling of holding someone's hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He's blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can't help but think that Y/N was the reason for that.

"Your mother came to me this morning," she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. "I assume she talked to you, too?"

"She did," Aemond confirms. "Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?"

"Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses," Y/N mimics a man's voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there, too. "Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech".

"He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience," the prince chuckles and she laughs. Aemond holds a pause and then adds:

"Forgive me if I'm being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you."

"It was not," she slows her steps. "I know what's expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I'm being honest...," she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. "I am glad that it's you," Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. "We'll make a pretty good team. Wouldn't you agree?"

Aemond lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at Y/N.

"It seems so," he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There's a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

"But I shall give you a warning," Y/N says with a mischievous grin. "My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won't shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two".

"Can any of them outdrink Aegon?" he jokes, and Y/N bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she's listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it's almost intimidating. But there's a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can't tell if Y/N senses that something is wrong but she's the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they're greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. Y/N lightly squeezes Aemond's hand.

"Tomorrow is a big day then," — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won't be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

"There is still time for you to plan an escape," Aemond jests half-heartedly.

Y/N looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head:

"Only if you're planning one. We are in this together, remember?" her thumb brushes over his. "It's all about teamwork."

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn't want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It's the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn't grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They've tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that's known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother's words — "I thought you'd be happy to know". Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there's more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider Y/N his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep.

He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn't ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn't get a chance to see Y/N throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots Y/N the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It's hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N's hand.

But right when they're standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, Y/N lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That's when it dawns on him that she's well aware of the attention but she doesn't really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it's just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he's not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can't tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he's getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn't remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

"Aemond, you've been dancing," she can't hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

"Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion," Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

"It is, indeed," she doesn't let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

"I can assure you, this isn't a cause for your distress."

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn't see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn't alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on Y/N's face is unreadable. She's oblivious to Aemond's presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he'll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

"... It's not too late to change that, don't you think," Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

"It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser", when Y/N talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

"Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn't of a frivolous kind," he's circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

"I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation," she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at Y/N and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it's not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She's looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

"I can be very persuasive," his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. "I think you should appreciate the attention while I'm this generous and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he's not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she's still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

"I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you're forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it," her voice doesn't lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she's not afraid of anything.

Y/N lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He's frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

"You didn't... You did not just do that," there's a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

"Did what, ser?" her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

"You will not get away with this," he scowls, nettled.

"You're telling me that you're considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe," Y/N seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

"You, insidious wre...!"

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man:

"I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed," Y/N flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

"Shouldn't she watch hers? She's talking to a lord," Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

"And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?"

"It was a... a simple misunderstanding," his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

"And what was the matter in question?" Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

"I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal," the man fakes a smile. "Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly".

"You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time," Aemond looks down on him. "Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?"

"I shall rejoin the celebration then," ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to Y/N. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can't stop himself from asking:

"Did he harm you?"

"He didn't get a chance," she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn't sure how.

"Dare I say we've got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

"I'll escort you to your chambers," the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds: "I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist."

Y/N doesn't move an inch.

"...You are not mad at me?" she's looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

"I'm thinking about cutting his arm off," he says under his breath, but she catches it.

"Aemond, there's no need!" Y/N gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

"I will have to disagree," he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond's hand — finally — clings to her again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble because of me," Y/N confesses.

"And I don't want you to get hurt," his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Y/N's cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

"I think I... I was the one who did some damage," she complains.

"You must imagine my surprise," Aemond drawls, teasing.

"Oh, Gods," a quiet groan leaves her mouth. "That was not very ladylike of me."

Y/N covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

"You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of," he enunciates each word. "He only sets an example of unseemly behavior."

"I'm afraid I wasn't too far off," Y/N remarks, her voice relenting.

"Hmm, you're certainly not to be truffled with," he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

"May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?" Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

"My father taught me that," her tone is surprisingly impish.

"And how did you manage to talk him into it?"

"Talking didn't help much, actually," Y/N grins. "And then I broke my brother's nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm."

"How old were you?"

"Nine," she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can't hold back the laugh.

Y/N joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other's company. But then her smile wilts.

"There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren't very nice back then," she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

"What did they do?"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It's just um," she's looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn't any. "It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean."

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, Y/N spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

"Is it the headache?" her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn't know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that. Y/N is quick to clear up his confusion:

"I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn't ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive," she explains coyly.

"By asking about my health?" he finds his voice again. "I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions."

"We've only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you're allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone," she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who's known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

"Did the ointment help?" she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on Y/N's face tells him otherwise.

"That was your doing?" he can't hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

"I've been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required," she informs him.

"And what kind of witchcraft is it?"

"It is not," she playfully elbows him. "It was something my grandfather taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain," Y/N has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

"After her death, he wouldn't let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret," her smile is bittersweet. "Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again."

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would've done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

"I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first," Y/N reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester's face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

"I shamelessly boosted his ego," she wrinkles her nose. "Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill."

"But I wasn't just that," Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she's been a saving grace for him, but he's somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

"It was way more than that and I...," never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I must admit, you exceeded my expectations," Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

"I am glad to be of service, my prince," she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn't register the moment Y/N came a bit closer, but she isn't shying away from shortening the distance. There's something enamoring about her trusting nature but that's not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would've been disrespectful and naive. He's mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at Y/N, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

"I shall bid you goodnight," her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends.

Lucerys's name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond's routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She's never nosy or clingy; he's the one seeking her company at all times. She's an early riser, too, and they're always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and Y/N can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it's all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she's terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives Y/N enough confidence to pat Vhagar's snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can't help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he's oblivious to how inseparable they've become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister's chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — "You two seem joined at the hip!", it startles him. But that moment doesn't turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

"I will steal her away from time to time," Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

"Bold of you to assume I will let you," he chuckles, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

"I think she’ll have the last word," his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn't think twice before admitting:

"She will never say no."

"My point exactly."

The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He doesn't want to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. Y/N asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that's when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn't want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn't like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven't been on good terms ever since.

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks:

"Must you really go?"

He ponders before answering with a sigh:

"It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect."

"I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you," she frowns.

"It would be a little too late for an apology," Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

"I still think you deserve one," she says like it's the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

"I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me," and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile:

"I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting."

Aemond doesn't know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn't involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that's what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

"Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!" Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

"I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him."

"I didn't say I want to switch places," he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

"Although switching places with you sounds tempting," he sneers.

"And why would you ever want that?" Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

"You've got yourself a pretty wife-to-be," Aegon chants and whistles.

"Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged," Aemond deadpans.

" 'tis won't be necessary," Aegon's quick to object. "Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession," his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles:

"You'll get no argument from me."

Leaving Y/N is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She's standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they're both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that's not what motivates her. Instead, she's an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar's carcass away.

"You had a successful hunt, dear prince," when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

"As usual," Aemond answers indifferently. "Never took you for a hunter."

"I cannot appreciate cruelty," Lannister forces out. "And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear's grip. So I am here merely to control my brother's primal impulses."

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

"Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him," the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint.

"I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother's sympathy toward your..."

"You should not," Aemond cuts him off. "Would be better to address his manners but it's the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves," with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn't there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he's never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would've been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it's already too late as Y/N is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

"...What am I missing exactly?" she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn't care.

"You've been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing," she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

"Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion," her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland's scared tone.

"But what are your accomplishments?" the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. "Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. He, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

Y/N looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

"You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above," Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she's seen enough.

"The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you're clearly lacking," Y/N casts Jason a disdainful glance. "So from where I am standing, it looks like I'm the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn't surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

"I would like it if we left earlier, my prince."

"As you wish," Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone's attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond's ire.

"Give me just a second," he can't help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn't let him make a sound.

"That was the second time your brother couldn't hold his tongue," Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. "If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time."

"Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like..."

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

"I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like."

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

"Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore," Aemond says, sitting next to her.

"I sure hope so," she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

"Y/N, whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture," way more than he cares to admit, "but there's no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me," Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

"I will."

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

"No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now," she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

He runs out of luck so fast, he must've jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. Y/N notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

"Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?" she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When Y/N finds out, she looks devastated.

"It must steep for a few hours, I can't make it right away," her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

"There is another way that I know of," she slowly suggests. "But you will need to lie down."

"Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in," Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

"Close your eye," she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that Y/N leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

"It was probably all the noise that caused this," she presumes.

"Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil," Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

"He is pissed I didn't choose him," she laughs quietly.

"Choose him?" her words peak his interest. "You had a choice in the matter?"

"My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn't like," her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

"May I ask what was your decision process?" Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

"I've heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten," he can't see her smile but he can hear it. "That was impressive enough."

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes:

"That can't be the only thing you've heard."

"I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors," she notes imperturbably.

"I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm..."

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

"I decided I would be the judge of that," Y/N says firmly.

"And what is your verdict?" he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn't think for a second:

"All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn't a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you."

Aemond shouldn't take it to heart but that's precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn't breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. Y/N removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

"What do you see?" he exhales.

"Nothing scary, that's for sure," Y/N's gaze doesn't leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

"Nothing I don't admire," her voice is a little above a whisper.

"Nothing I wouldn't love."

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

Y/N lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it's almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It's her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what's left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it's on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn't want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

"I must admit," she tries to catch her breath, she can't stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, "you exceeded my expectations."

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

"It's all about teamwork, as I've heard," he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they're kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He's lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn't make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

> the title is a quote from Hozier's song

>> I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can't help but mention the extensive research that @ adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept.

>>> I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn't add any music in this fic BUT I've listened to "Mr Sandman" a lot, especially the instrumental version (I didn't mention it earlier in case you don't like listening to music while reading). 💕 my masterlist

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