#the only thing is that what if something happens down the road / i know i can’t afford vet checks and monthly food rn
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biting-miguel-ohara · 2 days ago
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Cabin - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader
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A/N: Written for this request. I hope I did it okay. I left a lot of things vague, but I didn't wanna make up a situation for this one. Also, if anyone saw this post early, no you didn’t
I hope Logan doesn't come off as too ooc. Writing him getting angry around Reader didn't feel right for the request, so l wrote it like this instead
CW: crying, unsafe driving (due to crying), family fights, Reader has a toxic mother, I think this counts as hurt/comfort?, more crying, quiet comfort, cuddling, kissing, hugging, Logan's more of an actions guy than a words guy, hopeful ending sorta?, ooc Logan
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You were crying while driving. It’s a little bit disheartening; how well you know this road by now. How easily you can navigate it, even with your tear-blurred vision.
But you don’t stop. You can’t. Where else do you go?
It’s not the first time you’ve driven up this road after a fight with your mother. But this time was different.
You’d finally gotten the courage to come out to her. To set her straight about who you really are. And of course, everything had fallen apart the moment you’d spoken the words, “I’m trans.”
Hell hath no fury like your mother. Even now, you flinch at the memory. You push it out of your mind forcefully. The last thing you want is to start bawling and have to pull over.
Pulling over means stopping. And stopping means facing the fact that you have four boxes in the back of your car, filled with everything she let you take.
All too soon, you’re arriving at your destination. Logan’s house. It’s small. Tucked away in the mountains. Cozy, with a beautiful view.
It’s become your safe place. The one place your mother’s too scared to venture. It’s home.
And now it may really become your home.
You take the time to clean your face up. Making it look a little less like you’ve been crying. He’ll be able to tell; you already know. But it helps you focus on something.
Finally, you exit your car. You leave the boxes in the back, taking only yourself as you walk up to the front door. His truck is in the driveway, so you open the door without knocking.
“Logan?”
“In the living room.” His voice is gruff and immediately soothing. Just the sound has a weight lifting off your shoulders.
You go further in, toeing off your shoes at the doorway.
He’s lounging in the living room, comfortably sprawled on the couch. He’s reading a book, though he puts it down once you enter. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Something breaks in your chest at his question. Your heart, maybe. Tears spring to your eyes and your voice comes out shaky. “I got kicked out.”
Logan sits up, beckoning you to come closer. “Come here. Tell me what happened.”
You make it into the safety of his arms before everything spills out with a sob. And oh, you tell him everything.
You can feel him tense as you speak, but he never gets angry. He never says anything. He just holds you.
Once you’re all done, he rubs your back. Quietly soothing you into soft hiccups of breath. Your tears have all dried up, leaving your eyes itchy and sore. You feel like shit, except for the fact that you're with him.
“Say something?” You whisper.
He rumbles out a sigh. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. A place to stay, a voice against her. I’ll do whatever it is you want me to.”
You think about what you want. What you need. “I want to stay here. Will you help me get the boxes out of my car?”
He pulls you in for a gentle kiss and nods. But he hesitates before getting up. “No matter who you are, you’re always safe here. You’re always safe to be yourself.”
It’s gruffly said, but clearly heartfelt. You know he’s rarely so direct about it; preferring unspoken ways of love to words. But he’s doing it for you.
You hug him tightly, a silent appreciation of his words. He’s never been one for grandiose displays of affection or comfort. Instead, he’s your cabin in the mountains. Quiet. Steady. Always there when you need it.
It gives you hope. Confidence. Logan’s got your back. Whatever you decide to do, whatever ways you choose to continue on, he’ll go with you.
It gives you the strength to stand up, gather your shoes, and lead him out to finally face the boxes in your car.
No matter what, you’ve got Logan. And she can never take that away from you.
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Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss
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usomads · 8 hours ago
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Never Have I Ever // Jey Uso x Reader
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Author's Note -> So I had this interesting little idea and figured I'd write it out for y'all... not sure how I feel about it yet but lmk if you like it 🤭 Oh! I have a masterlist now too, so you can check out some other stories I did recently :) happy reading!
Plot -> An innocent game leads to a new first, and new love.
Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings -> Drinking, Cursing, Hickies, Oral (Fem!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 3.3k
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Game Night. The one night a month where you, Josh, Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina could have a night to yourselves. No kids, no wrestling events to stress over, just drinks and quality time with your people. You met them through work, and although you were part of the production crew you ended up clicking with them right away. Whenever you all were inevitably on the road for shows, you traveled together, stayed at the same hotel, ventured the cities together, you had basically become part of the family.
Game Night originally started as a couples get-together for Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina but seeing as you and Josh were always around they happily extended the invitation to you two, despite both of you being single.
You were close with everybody in the group, but yours and Josh’s relationship was by far closer than the relationships you had with the others. Josh was the first WWE superstar to greet you on your first day on the job, showing you around and helping you get acclimated to your new work environment. Within the span of a couple weeks he was inviting you to family events, and the rest is history.
After helping yourself to a mixed drink in Joe and Galina's kitchen, you made your way back to the living room where everyone was congregated as they were trying to figure out the next game to play. “Why don’t we spice it up?” Trin suggested, “how about a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”
“Jesus, Trin. What are we, high schoolers?” You chimed in, “Might as well get a bottle out and start spinning it too.”
“Oh c’mon, Y/N, live a little,” she teased, “Sounds to me like you’ve got some secretssss!”
“Ugh, fine, whatever. Start already, before you kill my buzz.” 
One by one everyone started taking turns going in a circle stating things they hadn’t done before; some sexual, some embarrassing, and some targeted to get certain players to put their fingers down. After a few rounds everyone in the group only had one finger remaining, and it was your turn. All you had to do was give one confession and everybody would be out of the game, making you the winner. You being as competitive as you were, you saved the best one for last. And you knew it would get everyone out. “Okay umm,” you paused dramatically even though you knew what you were going to say, “Never have I ever… received head.”
You smiled triumphantly as one by one, the group started putting down their fingers. Choruses of “Wowww, you had to go there,” “That’s so unfair,” and strings of curses came from everybody. Everybody except Josh.
“Nah, uce. That means nobody wins. Ma, the whole point of the game is to say somethin’ you haven’t done. You gotta put a finger down.”
“I know the rules, Josh,” you retorted, “I did say something I haven’t done. Which means I win.” “Wait, wait, wait. Girl, you’ve never had a man eat you out?” Trin asked shocked, her question making everyone realize what you had just said.
Josh interjects before you can respond, seemingly annoyed, “She has, Trin, she’s bullshittin’ rn. Because there ain’t no way-”
“There is a way, Josh, because it hasn’t happened. I’ve never had a man go down on me.”
Waves of shock cascaded across the room at your response. How could you go your entire adult life without getting your pussy eaten? It’s actually fairly easy,  just sleep with shitty dudes that don’t wanna reciprocate and there you have it. You’ve experimented a little bit within your sex life, but something as elementary as getting head was something you had yet to check off your bucket list? You can’t really blame everyone for being so surprised about it, shit you probably would be too if you were in their shoes. It seemed like with every second the group sat with this new revelation more and more questions were getting asked, almost an overwhelming amount.
“Okay okay chill, damn. Didn’t realize I was playing ‘truth or dare’ all of a sudden,” you joked before shifting to a more serious tone, “But yes, I’ve sucked dick before. Yes, I’ve been fingered. No, I’m not bullshitting. And yes, my taste in men is ass. Haven’t found a single one that wants to go down on me, yet they expect me to go down on them. Crazy I know, but it is what it is. Men ain’t shit apparently. Now there, did I cover everything?”
“So…,” Jon piped up, “What the fuck y’all be doin’ then? Just straight to pound town and that’s it? No warm up?”
“Pound town is crazyyyy,” you laughed, “But not exactly. Actually, I can break down every time I’ve ever had sex with somebody. It all follows the same steps: kiss on each other for a bit, take all our clothes off, I’ll suck his dick, we fuck, he cums, and then it’s over with.”
“Wait, girl, are you saying you’ve never cum during sex? If that’s what you’re saying honey, I’m sorry, but we gotta find you a fuckin’ man. No more of these boys that you’re messin’ with.” Galina asked.
“Oh, no, I have before. Just a handful of times though, most of the time I’ve gotta finish myself off after. Can’t really expect me to finish if you don’t warm me up a bit, you know?” You responded.
“Man, what the fuck is wrong with this generation? Giving your girl head should be a requirement, these boys you’re fuckin’ with are weird as fuck, Y/N, my girl’s right. We gotta find you a real man,” Joe stated.
“Oh, trust me, I agree with y’all. It’s why I just stopped having sex altogether; Imma have to finish myself off anyways, might as well not waste my time.”
“Y/N, babes, how fuckin’ long has it been since you’ve gotten dick?” Trin asked, anxiously waiting for your answer.
“Um…” Wow, you really had to think about it. “If I remember right, then around Christmas time…” “Oh, so less than a year then. For a second there I thought-”
“Of 2022,” you interrupted. Man, if earlier was chaotic, this new confession was fucking bedlam. Everyone seemed to be losing their minds, except Josh, who had stayed silent and kept his eyes locked on you throughout this entire exchange. 
“Alright, alright, yes I get it. It’s insane, I know. It is what it is, I guess. But as much as I’d love to continue sharing about my travesty of a sex life, I desperately need another drink. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?” Everyone started listing their drink of choice, and you were having a hard time keeping up with it all, until Josh spoke for the first time since your revelation.
“I’ll just come with you, seems like everybody needs something right now. You’re gonna need help carrying everyone’s shit.” You smiled at him, silently thanking him, but he didn’t say a word- he just followed closely behind you to the kitchen. You immediately went into bartender mode, making everyone’s drinks to bring back to the living room, but Josh stood still watching you from the entryway of the kitchen- still not talking.
“Hey, Josh, you mind helping me make a couple drinks real quick? I need some help over here,” you chuckled, but stopped when you noticed he wasn’t responding and turned to look at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about you not getting your needs met? You know I would’ve helped you out, ma,” Josh asked, closing the distance between you two.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to finish making everyone’s drinks. “Helped me? What does that even mean? Look, I really don’t wanna talk about this right now, so can we put this convo on the back burner until the night is over with? Good, now help me carry these drinks back to the living room, would you?” You sighed, grabbing a few cups before brushing past him to head back to the group- leaving Josh alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.
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After a couple more games and a few more drinks, it was time for everyone to head out for the night. You rode to Joe’s house with Josh, who you hadn’t talked to since the conversation earlier in the kitchen. You were crashing there for the night, 1. Because you knew you’d have a drink too many and wouldn’t be able to drive, and 2. Because staying over at each others’ houses was a common occurrence nowadays. You both said your goodbyes to the group and headed back to his place. The car ride was silent, neither of you talking to the other and only the low hum of whatever songs were on Josh’s playlist. You stared out of the window the whole car ride, watching the blur of the city lights pass by and replaying you two’s conversation in your head over and over. What did he mean by, “I would’ve helped you out?” How would he have helped you?
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the car pulling into Josh’s driveway and being put in park. Josh got out quickly, while you sat for a second to let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Well, here goes nothing.
You got inside and went to take your jacket and shoes off, barely getting yourself situated before Josh spoke.
“So, are you ready to talk about it now or are you just not gonna address it?” Sigh, here we go.
“What is there to address, huh? All I did was tell the truth, I haven’t had a guy go down on me before. I don’t really understand what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that you should’ve told me about this a long time ago,” Josh replied, “If you had told me I could’ve done something about it.”
“Done something about it? How, Josh? What could you have possibly done about it? It doesn’t even matter and honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so worked up over it.”
“Oh, c’mon Y/N, don’t act stupid. You know damn well if I had known about it I would’ve offered to be your ‘first’.” Sorry, what? You blinked hard, trying to make sure you heard him correctly. “Shit, as far as I’m concerned, offer’s still on the table,” his voice lowered, making slow strides towards you and backing you into the door, “What kind of ‘best friend’ would I be if I didn’t make sure you were taken care of, hmm?”
You shivered at his words, feeling the lust that was oozing from his words engulf the space between the two of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined Josh like this before. Hell, he’s who you think about when you’re touching yourself at night. Sure, he was attractive, but lately you’d developed feelings for the man. You craved him in more ways than one, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually end up in this position- trapped between him and the door while he dragged his fingers along your sides, trailing further and further down…
“So, what’s it gonna be,” he paused, his hand finally reaching your core and rubbing you through your leggings you were wearing. He groaned, feeling your wetness that had soaked through now pooling on his fingers. “You gonna let me take care of you baby?” He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Imma eat this pussy in every room of the house mamas, make you cum in every one of ‘em too. All you gotta do is say the word.”
Your skin felt like it was on fire. The sultriness in his voice had you ready to completely give yourself to him. You had completely soaked through your leggings at this point, and were convinced if they weren’t so restricting you’d be dripping wet for him. You had a choice to make: let him take you right here and raise some question marks surrounding your friendship, or decline his offer and leave yourself hot and bothered? Lucky for you, your voice made the decision before your mind did.
“Please, Josh, please.”
That was all it took for him to smash his lips into yours; desperately but passionate, lovingly yet intense. Your tongues battled for dominance while the two of you hastily removed any article of clothing separating you, craving to feel the warmth of each others’ skin with nothing in the way. Both of you were now left in just your undergarments, relentlessly kissing each other like your lives depended on it. His lips made their way to your neck, leaving trails of hickies in their wake. You moaned his name and fisted his hair with each one he created, trembling with every graze of his teeth or lick of his tongue.
“You… have no idea… how long… I’ve wanted this,” he muttered in between each bruise he made. Your head was thrown back against the wooden door, relishing every moment.
“Me too,” you breathed out, and it was the truth. You had only recently come to terms with seeing him as more than your best friend, but deep down you knew your feelings had begun months prior. He was all you ever thought about, and here you were, melting underneath him as he ensured not a single inch of your body went untouched by his lips. 
His hands traveled to the back of your thighs and by pure instinct you jumped into his arms, holding you tightly as he carried you to your first stop: the kitchen. Josh laid you down on the island countertop, goosebumps erupting all over as the cold surface touched your skin. You arched your back for him to remove your bra, and once removed, he placed a trail of kisses starting from your breasts and moving down to your sternum, then your stomach, and finally your hips, where the band of your thong rested. Looking up at you, his teeth grazed the soft skin before latching onto the waistband of your thong, before sliding it down your legs. His hands slowly traveled up your calves and to your thighs, spreading them apart to give him a look at what he’s been craving since earlier this evening.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, “And all mine too. Look at how wet you are for me already, baby. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me all this time, ma.” And with that he lowers his head and licks between your aching folds, your eyes widening and rolling to the back of your head the moment his mouth makes contact. He hungrily attacks your folds as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. The moans coming from your mouth are uncontrollable, repeating his name over and over as you fall further into oblivion. 
“Tastes so sweet, baby girl, could eat you for every meal.” His words vibrate through your core and your pussy flutters. You inadvertently buck your hips but his arm stops you, holding you down so you can take everything he’s giving you right now. His mouth wraps around your clit, paying special attention to the sensitive bud and you arch your back at the touch- feeling a familiar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach and quickly reaching its peak. “F-fuckk, Josh, feels so good. I’m gonna-”
“Let it out, princess. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.”
Your orgasm rips through you, sending your body into a state you had never experienced before. You were writhing underneath him, holding onto his hair for dear life as your eyes roll into your skull and your back arches off the countertop. Strings of profanities and pants of his name cross your lips, lost in the flood of pleasure stemming from the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. You finally begin to take control of your breathing again, attempting to slow it as your body gives out and lies limp on the marble, completely wiped out. Josh lifts his head to reveal himself, mouth and beard dripping in your wetness. He smiles softly at you, proud that he was the first to eat your pussy and proud that he was able to make you completely fall apart for him. He leans up to you and gives a soft kiss to your lips, before lifting your body from the countertop and carrying you once again. “Oh, baby, I’m not done with you yet. I said I was gonna eat you in every room of this house tonight, and you know I don’t break my promises.”
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“Ohh f-fuckk! J-Josh, I- I can’t, I’m-”
“Yes you can, mamas, gimme another one. You can do it, princess.” You were now on your 5th orgasm of the night. Josh had kept his promise alright, making you cum in the kitchen, living room, his office, master bathroom, and now his bedroom. You’d think after that many times a man would be exhausted, but with every time he had made you cum he had gained more energy. It’s like making you cum was his food source, and it was driving him to keep going. Once again you came hard from his mouth and tongue, vision turning white and seeing stars as you hit your orgasm. You were for sure tired, but one thought kept you going: you wanted his cock. Bad. 
“B-baby,” you panted, still coming down from your last orgasm, “Please… I want you. Fuck me, please.”
“You just came on my face 5 times, and now you want my dick? Fuck baby, you sure you can take it?” “Fuckk yes, Josh, just please… I need it, baby. I can handle one more.”
Josh takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, passionately kissing your lips as he pumps his cock and rubs his tip up and down your sensitive pussy, making you whimper into the kiss. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby girl. Imma take good care of you, I promise. You ready for me, baby?”
You nod, staring into his eyes as he slowly enters you. You cry out as his cock fully fills your pussy, already close to cumming again.
“Fuck, Y/N, so fuckin’ tight. Taking me so well,” he hisses, slowly thrusting inside of you. He wraps your legs around his waist and peppers kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips, whispering praises to you as he slowly pumps in and out of you. Your pussy tightens around him, signaling you’re close, making him moan loudly in response. “Shitt, do that again, mamas. Squeeze my shit just like that, gonna make me fuck you full of my cum, baby.” You dig your nails into his shoulders and moan in response, “Is that what you want, baby girl? You want Daddy to fill you up ‘til you’re dripping my cum? Want me to cum deep, don’t you baby?”
“F-fuck… oh my god… please, Daddy. Want your cum in me so fuckin’ bad… s-shitt, Josh, I’m so-”
“Go ahead and soak this dick, pretty girl. I’m there too, baby. Cum for me.”Any energy you had saved was completely wiped out, coming undone again for him as he buried his face in your neck and pumped you full of his cum. Both of your moans echoed in his room, engulfing you two as you fell apart together. Josh collapses on the bed next to you, you both breathing heavily, and silent. Nothing needed to be said, as you nestled into his side and drifted to sleep with only one thought on your mind: Never have I ever… well now I have… and more. 
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atangledfate · 3 hours ago
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Stop Saving People, sometimes he wanted to do just that to, just leave it all behind. But Surge was right he could never do that. not just because of a promise he made to her, but he couldn't bare the thought of someone else dying when he had the power to stop it. Surge and he were different, built different, and he didn't want to be like his father. He was already to much like him with all the drifting from place to place. But if he just stopped being the good person then who would he even be? He still felt so much anger deep down at himself for being so damn weak.
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He sighed
" Guess you got me there, i couldn't sit and watch knowing i could do something. Guess we are just built different... "
He snorted at Surge as he stretched his arms behind his back
" You do know the locked me up before right? didn't stop them then... guess things are a bit different now... but you are right, let's motor... i dun wanna think about it anymore. Let's just cross that road when we get there..."
He gave surge a glance considering Kit and he felt like she missed his point entirely. Kit seemed so attached to her. Could he even exist with out her? He remembered how he acted when he thought she died... it was sad to watch.
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" Surge... all i know is... When he thought you bought the big one. He broke ya know... he couldn't function. I hope he's better now i hope he's grown. But i don't think he'll handle this as well as you are hoping... i'm just--- worried about you two ok? its just--- who i am i guess..."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck
" Eh what ever, i'll keep my word so let's go before i say anything else stupid..."
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Back then, when Kit thought that Surge was gone. It almost felt like he and Tails could have been friends then. But fate wasn't so kind and, the shock of Surge being alive had only drove a wedge between them again. He couldn't expect Kit to set aside his personal feelings though but it would have been nice wouldn't it? Just to have someone brainy to talk to. It was always hard knowing you couldn't win someone over. But it wasn't the first time he'd felt this way--- it happened to often in the orphanage.
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" No... it's fair... i get it. Let's just focus on the task at hand yea... "
Deep down though it did kind of hurt that Kit wasn't interested in being a friend or a comrade. Though it did feel better knowing there wasn't any hate there anymore. Maybe it was a s good a step forward as he could hope for.
" I doubt he'll be ok with closing the doors entirely. Though making a check point with some defensive features sounds good. Yea... i wonder what her limit is... were at least ten or so at a glance...that's alot of back up if we had to. Though... i have zero clue how good she'd be in a fight. "
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" Hmm though maybe she doesn't need to fight... just look like she can fight. If enemy sees enough units they won't be so keen on busting in all willy nilly. Let's head back inside and see what we can work out with the doc and his nurses... besides, keeping the injured safe should also be a priority "
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"Then stop saving people and you'll get that wish real fucking quick. Though we both know you aren't going to do that, so you're stuck with it." Surge was sure Sonic could easily focus on only bashing Eggman's bots, though he always went out of his way to save people. "They don't got to like you to admit you're considered a hero on Mobius. At this point if they lock you up then entire planet will be up in arms." The tenrec was sure that's the last thing GUN needs to deal with.
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"No, though I'm sure a lot of people would see it has a start. Besides, I'm sure it's better than when I was staying in run down Eggman base's." Surge then rolled her eyes with Sonic bringing up they'd want to use her. "Of course they'd want to use me, though telling them to bite me is easy enough. Whenever they ask for my help it'll be on my terms, not there's." The tenrec wasn't going to be used by GUN or anyone else ever again.
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"And you can cut the crap on trying to guilt trip me with Drippy. Use you're head a little bit. Do you really think I'd ask you to take him home if I wasn't sure someone would be there for him. I ain't going into detail, though you'll see what I mean." Surge was clearly trying to keep hush hush about it. The tenrec's attention went to the Mother Wisp now over the base and then to hearing Lanolin's orders from her comm.
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"Well, guess everyone is coming back to the base so GUN is about to have more fucking problems. Let's just go to the checkpoint already. I'm sure between us and the giant fucking Wisp whoever is in charge might actually come down and talk to us." Surge was guessing on that, though two people moving at the speed of sound and a Wisp that big should hopefully motivate them to talk.
===========================================================
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"Then we can stop talking about it, and you can hopefully accept the fact I don't want to be your friend." Kitsunami couldn't say they were enemies anymore, and was sure they'd be more times down the road when they'd form an alliance once again. "If this is about the time I called you and Sonic a liar I'm sure he was convinced that Surge was actually gone. I was also too shocked to see Surge still alive to even consider the device was hurting her." The fennec was willing to admit his mistakes.
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"We would if Lanolin would've approved my plans for secret bunkers that didn't show up on the blueprints. The only place would be the sewers, though Belle Bot would then be too far underground." Kitsunami's main reason for wanting the bunkers was pure paranoia, though it looked like they would've come in handy. "It's a mute point, though maybe here is the best. A few people are battle ready, and we're also here. Not ideal, though it's the best plan I got."
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"With all that said, it might be wise to start barricading the door. Assuming the head doctor wouldn't have a problem with it. I recall them mentioning the nurse's ability, though that can only go so far." Kitsunami was clearly assuming the worse which would be a fire fight breaking out.
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buddiewho · 4 hours ago
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I’ve read things and so:
Eddie is not a bad friend for stopping him from texting Tommy. If that were the case wouldn’t that make Hen and Chim bad friends too?? Hen especially since she followed again with Eddie in keeping away the phone. Personally, based on context, if what they only know of the break up is that it was Tommy who dumped Buck therefore they are probably assuming if Tommy called it off why would there be any benefit to Buck contacting him?Is there any benefit in trying to essentially beg for more reasons why? And yes, perhaps, as the show insinuated Tommy was thinking about contacting him because let’s face it, he’s probably feeling a bit lonely again too, but then something must’ve changed his mind. I imagine on the other end of the bubbling, Tommy has typed out a few sentences where he’s asking Buck to meet up and talk thoroughly but then he’s decided wait, a minute, let’s not do this because then I’ll just be back at square one knowing I’m not his last and will inevitably be heart broken in some way. Basically, Tommy probably reminded himself of what he said and went, what’s done is done and maybe we’ll see each other around as friends but I’m not going to reach out for meet ups etc. we’re going to let it happen by chance somehow.
None of them are bad friends in any context of what I saw, because there’s legitimately no reason for Buck to contact Tommy and it’d essentially be begging so if anything Eddie was doing Buck a service by saving him from inevitable embarrassment when Tommy’s answer could/would be, “we’re not getting back together.”
Plus, I do think the episode was trying to highlight and nudge Buck into a direction that gets him realizing oh, I am not alone when I’m single. I have people. I have friends and found family. I have something and I have people who are not leaving me whether I’m in a romantic relationship or not.
I want Buck to go down the road of self assurance understand that what’s in his life now can also be sufficient and a romantic relationship does not to be forced or wedged into his life.
Of course, though, this is also about looking at who has been in front of him, behind him and beside him all along.
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roszabell · 7 months ago
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guys i need a little cat or dog so so so bad i’ll literally cry
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hurlingdown · 1 month ago
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          ❛ FUCK YOU LIKE . . . AN ANIMAL ?! ❜ — NANAMI KENTO.
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synopsis. your husband nanami kento has always secretly prided himself on being the one to tame you. but what happens when you, a fully grown werewolf, gets exposed to the full moon while curse hunting together in an abandoned building? spoilers: you chase, he runs. wc. 2.9k
tags. top werewolf reader, bottom! nanami. reader has a cock. bit of sub top / dom bottom dynamic. monsterfucking, rimming, anal sex, male squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dry orgasm, creampie, knotting, biting, stomach bulge, flavoured lube, praise kink (reader receiving), breeding kink, nanami gets his ass eaten for 2k.
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Full moon. That only meant one thing. 
“Kentoo,” you crooned, and it sounded strange with your fangs growing and getting in the way, words forming in low gurgles. “I'm getting bored. Come out and play with me.” 
You could hear his breathing sounds all the way down the hallway: the vague inhale, the hurried exhale. Second or third door to your right, probably under a desk, with his hands clamped over his mouth. He was hiding. From you. 
You could feel your innards metamorphosing, heat boiling low in your core, resisting the urge to rip off all your clothes and bask in the silver light streaming through the broken window that had caused this mess in the first place. Dark grey fur had burst through your skin moments before at first contact with the full moon—your legs bowing back, bones crackling, the rest of your body except for your face shifting into some sort of hybrid between beast and man. 
You gave in to the instinct to hunch over, like a predator stalking prey. And maybe you were. 
“Kento?” you called out, an innocent and curious lilt to your voice, pretending that you didn’t already know his whereabouts. “Are you…” You pushed open the first door to your right, a creak resounding in the abandoned building, a stark contrast to your light and silent footsteps. “Here?” 
Nanami’s breath quickened, and so did his heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump. You wanted to eat him. 
“Kento… come on, it’s not that funny anymore…” you mumbled, the exaggerated pout clear in your voice, retreating from the empty room and slowly making your way to the second door. “I miss you a lot…” 
The second room was also empty. You pretended to sigh despite the excited twitch in your pants as you caught a whiff of his mouth-watering scent, sharp and clean and masculine—not something that alphas would go for typically, but to you, it was ecstasy. You licked your lips in sweet anticipation, sauntering over to the third and final door. 
“There’s no need to hide, y’know… we’d be so good to you.” Half of that was a lie. You were going to press him into the ground and defile him the moment you get your hands on him, submitting to your instincts to mate and breed—if the huge, excited bulge at the front of your trousers wasn’t enough proof of that. “Tell me, are you—” 
You flung the door open. 
“—here?” 
The wind rustled through the half-opened window on the other side, but the room was… empty, to your surprise. Nanami had probably escaped through the same window, but that wasn’t all. Surely enough, lying under a desk near the wall, was your husband’s yellow spotted tie, neatly folded and left in his place to taunt you. 
“Kento,” you growled, displeasure coursing through you, but you bent down to pick up the tie, bringing it up to smother your face, breathing heavily in the lingering scent. Delicious. You would have your revenge. 
You ended up stalking your way back home, following the trail of his scent, cock straining against the fabric of your pants, swollen and heavy and painful, like the rest of your body. You had discarded your shirt somewhere on the road, your body overheating too much to care about being shirtless in public. 
Sweat trickled down your back and shoulders, your scent glands dripping with fragrant oil at the back of your neck. The moon was right behind you, and your awaiting prey was right inside the house before you. You would have him, finally. He would be yours. 
The door was already open when you reached it, the strong, assured scent of your mate safely resting inside your territory making you giddy with pride, a constant subvocal growl ringing at the back of your throat. “Kento…” you warbled, making your way up the stairs towards your shared room. “Ten seconds. And then I’m coming in.” 
“... It’s alright,” a muffled voice said, coughing lightly. “I’ve already… prepared myself.” 
And that was the only green light that you needed. 
You snarled, leaping up the remaining flight of stairs and slamming into the doorframe, the door forcefully bursting open. You could hear his choked-up gasp before you laid your eyes on him. His goggles were removed and lying beside him on the nightstand, and you salivated at the sight of his mostly naked body, blue dress shirt unbuttoned and a breeze away from slipping off the shoulders that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into. 
“Mate,” you purred, eyes trained onto his hard, leaking cock against his stomach as you palmed yourself through your pants. “My mate.” 
Nanami visibly swallowed, backing up against the bedframe, his hips lifting slightly to show you the efforts he had made to please you. A pink, puffy asshole, stretched wide enough that you could see the lube trickling out from within. 
“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning his head back to expose his throat, an act of submission that he knew would make you feral. “All yours. Come n’ get me.” 
You growled louder, stalking forward on your hands and knees. 
He feigned composure, despite the fact that you could hear his heart pounding wildly from where you were, the slight hitch in his breath that gave away his fear and uncertainty. Keeping his eye contact with you, he reached between his legs to stroke his cock slowly, pumping pre-cum out. “Oh… yes. Reminds me. Did you bring my tie back?” 
“Yeah,” you murmured, reaching back to pull out his tie from your pocket, albeit it was crumpled and soaked in your drool. He winced at its poor state, taking it from you anyway. 
“Thank you,” he muttered. “... Always so good.” 
You crooned at the praise, climbing onto the bed with little grace and crawling between his parted thighs, immediately nuzzling affectionately into his neck, jaw firmly snapped shut despite your instincts telling you to bite. “... I caught you.” 
“You caught me,” Nanami echoed, looking at you—this version of you—with an expression no less than tender. You were somewhat larger than him, now, and certainly not human, staring down at him with golden, eerie eyes, hungry and strange, and he stared right back into them, unfazed.
All of this was making you hungry. You bared your teeth as you leaned in again, wanting to mark him up as yours already. 
“Later,” he chided, pushing your face away, and then reached over to pull your swollen cock out from your trousers, calloused hands thumbing gently at the tip. “This first.” 
“Okay,” you groaned, the small amount of pleasure already making it hard to focus, warmth stirring in your abdomen. It was funny how you had promised yourself you would ruin him the second he was in your hands, but now that he was, you didn’t even bother to resist his command. “Anything you want.” 
You smiled innocently, and you watched as his gaze softened, features relaxing. 
He let go of you to turn around, knowing that you preferred it when he was presenting as an omega werewolf would, but you grabbed his ankles, grip tight and keeping him in place. “No.” You shook your head, frowning. “I’m not—not fucking any omega. I’m fucking you tonight, Kento.” 
Nanami made an appreciative noise at the back of his throat, almost a whine if you didn’t know any better. “That’s... good. That’s very good,” he says, breathless. “Fuck me, then.” 
You slid your hands up his bare thighs, the tender touch making him shiver, before you cupped the back of his knees, very, very slowly pushing them against his chest until he was one press away from being bent in half. His eyes were sharp, trained onto your every movement, but you could feel the intensity resting within, the heat and desire, the impatience. 
You wanted to play with him, so very badly. 
“What are you—” He let out a choked groan at the first swipe of your tongue against his hole, hand shooting forward to grip the fur at the top of your head tightly. “—hngh.” 
You sucked wetly at his rim, tasting the flavoured lube that you had jokingly got him as an anniversary gift, tangy and disgustingly sweet. Fuck. You were drooling already. 
“Kento,” you whined, burying your face between his asscheeks as your tongue slowly breached and unbreached him, careful not to graze him with your fangs. “Tastes so good. Wanna eat you.” 
What the fuck. Eat him? Did he hear you correctly?  
And he might just be too worked up, but why did it feel thicker and longer than usual? 
“Don’t—lie,” he gasped out, struggling not to rut up against your hot mouth, to take you deeper inside his hole. “I chose the- the worst flavour possible.” 
“It’s you,” you murmured, crooning with delight as his hands moved to spread himself open for you, further exposing his sensitive hole. “You always taste so good, no matter what. You always smell good, too.” 
“You sure talk a lot,” he grits out, stifling a moan. “For someone who promised to fuck me.” 
You bit down a smirk at how subtly eager he was being. “I’ll get to that, don’t worry. Just—this first. Please?” He scowled at the fact that you were using his words against him so sweetly, but he relented silently, pushing his hips towards your face as you slid a pillow under the small of his back, immediately returning to stretching him open with your tongue.  
“Oh—” 
His lips parted to let out a deep, sexy groan as you jabbed at his prostate, not once, but twice, and you kept going, enjoying the sight of your mate falling apart.
“Fuck.��� His thighs were trembling, his head thrown back at the intense pleasure, because no, you weren’t just eating him out, you were making out with his fucking asshole. Every lick and probe of your thick, thick tongue made stars explode before his eyes in the most insane way possible, touching him in places inside him that even he didn’t know existed. 
That insatiable tongue of yours. Nanami couldn’t decide if he hated or loved it more. It was making these obscene squelching noises, with all the lube and saliva being pushed further into his hole with every wet thrust, making room for more. It didn’t help that you were a messy eater, smearing drool all over his ass and thighs, looking at him with such hunger that made him dizzy with desire. 
My husband, who is a werewolf… is eating me out. 
Nanami grabs his cock hurriedly, pumping it quick enough to chafe if it weren’t for pre continuously dribbling down the side of it, crying out hoarsely as one clawed finger rubbed on a specific spot on his perineum, stimulating his prostate from both ends. 
“Haah, fuck, please—” he cried out, grip on your fur now tight enough that you could almost feel the strands being ripped from their roots. He couldn't wait anymore, he needed you now, and preferably inside him. “Fuck me. I said it. Please.” 
To his absolute horror, you only growled into his hole in response, ignoring his pleas, too lost in the feeling of it clenching repeatedly around your tongue. The squelching sounds grew louder as you slurped him frantically. Everything he did only spurred you on, and you grabbed onto his hips with your claws to dig deeper. 
“Ahh—haah, shit!” Nanami’s breath was laboured and shaky, eyes squeezed shut as he could do nothing but take you and everything else that you had to give him. “Please, sweetheart, feels too good... I’m gonna—ah, gonna cum, but I don’t want it t-to end like this, please. Want you inside me, not like this…” 
He can’t possibly keep going, it’s not possible. He must be tired of it now, and even if not, his jaw should be—
He was shivering as the pleasure bordered on painful overstimulation, tears gathering in his eyes as he grabbed the base of his cock—fighting with everything not to cum, even as you snarled against his hole in sharp disapproval, showing your fangs. “No—listen to me—hnngh. Th-thought you were gonna give me—anything I wanted. Let me- let me make you feel good, too. D-don’t you want to knot me?” 
Of course you wanted to knot him, keep him lodged on your cock for hours, days, for as long as he allowed you to. Breed him full of your puppies, even—make him carry them. But if he was using a brainless assumption like you not feeling any pleasure as a reason for you to stop, then he would have to try harder. 
You forced your entire tongue inside his tight rim, as deep as you could reach, rubbing firm clockwise circles into his perineum.
Nanami was letting out a stream of the most unholy noises you had ever heard, whimpering lewdly as he could feel the cum bursting past the tight restriction his hand had formed around his cock. “Gonna cum—” he choked out, back arching and toes curling as he crammed his thighs hard around your head, your fangs digging into skin—making you see stars. “Oh, fuuuuck—” 
He screamed out hoarsely as he came with violence, cock squirting everywhere, thick watery spurts painting his abdomen and both of your chests, with a few stray drops splattering onto his face and collarbones. You reached a hand out to hastily jerk him off while continuing to knead your tongue insistently on his sweet spot, wanting to milk his orgasm to the fullest—and he let out a dry, pathetic sob, orgasming for a second time, legs jerking as cum dribbled out from his spent cock. 
He pushed a hand onto your face, shivering and shaking his head. 
“F-fuck, puppy, no more.” 
You pulled your tongue out from his hole as you panted, making him whine breathily at the sudden emptiness. The slip of his nickname for you had barely registered in your head, your eyes immediately zeroing in on his plump, heaving chest, now decorated with strips of his release. Almost as if you were possessed, you leaned down, drooling as you pressed fang-shaped hickeys into his muscled pecs while eagerly licking up his squirt and cum. 
It was sweet. All of Kento was sweet, and you wanted more.
Nanami shuddered helplessly as you grazed his nipple with your sharp teeth before running your tongue over the abused nub, as though to apologise. This was… okay. It felt good, in a strange way. Soothing, even, especially after what you had done to him. That violent hunger, that insatiability. You were relentless. 
But before he knew it, there was something thick and hard rubbing on his swollen entrance, something way too big to be considering intrusion. 
“You said you’d let me knot you,” you mumbled, “Kento.” 
He bit down a shudder, fighting down a wave of panic. “No. No, I didn’t say that—don’t twist my words. I asked if you wanted to knot me. Before I came.” 
“Same thing,” you said, already pushing in—and he let out a barely audible cry, voice completely wrecked from all the begging earlier. “You said you want t-to make me feel good, right?” 
“Yes, b-but that was then. It’s too- too sensitive now, at least give me some time—” 
You groaned loudly as you bullied your way in with one strong thrust, burying yourself to the hilt inside his warm hole as his walls spasmed and tightened around you. “That’s more like it.” 
Nanami was wrecked. 
Tears were spilling down his cheeks, soft, overstimulated whimpers spilling out from parted lips as his cock twitched uselessly, trapped between you and the swell of his stomach. 
“You… really don’t listen, do you…” 
“Sorry,” you murmured, nuzzling his neck in apology. You didn’t sound sorry at all, and you knew it. 
You gave a shallow, experimental thrust, the base of your cock already swelling heavily with knot, all worked up from all the noises your mate was making earlier. “Kento…” you moaned, sharp claws digging into his meaty thighs as you knot-fucked him deeper, making him take you all the way. “You’re making me feel so good…” 
Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into what seemed like hours of you fucking him into the mattress, wringing orgasm out of orgasm out of him as you fucked him through all three of your knots, each one bigger than the last.
He gave a feeble moan as your hips finally stuttered to a stop, letting your final knot catch. There was a bulge visible over his abdomen as you filled him up with the warmth of your seed, groaning loudly, and Nanami let out a soundless whine in return, hips bucking weakly as his cock jumped, no longer able to cum.
You grinned dopily, feeling pride surge through your chest. You were the one who had made him like this. 
You were tired, and he was exhausted. The both of you were panting heavily, but it didn’t stop you from taking one long look at your mate, your husband, and feeling a surge of want, no, need—to kiss him. His tired eyes, his sharp cheekbones, his soft lips, all of it—fanged and brutal and loving. 
Nanami’s trembling hand reached over to grasp your clawed one, entwining it with his in an intimate gesture. You watched carefully as he brought it to his face and gently pressed your ringed finger to his lips, eyes screaming out to you with an affection so intense it almost made you forget how to breathe. Take what you want, they were saying. Take what you want from me, and I’ll give you all that’s left. 
Golden eyes gleaming in the dark, you returned his gaze with a similar one of your own. 
kinktober masterlist! masterlist!
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troublesomesnitch · 4 months ago
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Meeting Vhagar - Drabble
Aemond x Wife!Reader
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Much to your dismay, Prince Aemond insists on bringing your little son to Vhagar. Set sometime during the Dance.
Contents: Just a little practice thing... Dad!Aemond, Targaryen parenting, subtle fluff. Little bit of subtle angst too. No filth this time..
Words: 3000, and very sloppily proof read.
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The carriage can only take you so far as to the Iron Gate. 
Beyond its massive doors, the Rosby Road winds North, poorly maintained and full of potholes, as it is the shortest of the main roads, and thus the least important. It is not as busy as others, and the gate is not guarded as well - clearly, as the men who should be protecting it are presently engaged in a game of cards, laid out on top of a large, flat rock.
That is where the driver will wait, but it is not your destination. 
There is another little trail. One that runs in the opposite direction, scarcely used and partially hidden, visible only to those who know it. No horse or wagon can make the journey, and there is no option but to walk - first along a narrow, trodden path, and then further still, down treacherous steps, carved into the very rock the city rests upon. Past the watchtower, and across the Northern beach, to the vast caves of Maegor the Cruel, where Vhagar has made her nest.
You walk alone, just the two of you. The prince in his coat and boots, and yourself in attire much less suited for the occasion. Fine shoes, fine skirts, and with your little son cradled in your arms. 
The gentle rocking of the carriage has lulled him to sleep. Four months old, he is, and a source of such joy that your poor heart can scarcely contain it. From his first high-pitched cry when you brought him into the world - oh, the pains of labour were all but forgotten, as was the threat of the raging war. And when the prince came to see his son, you could hardly even bear to let him hold him. 
He wanted to bring the boy much sooner, but both you and the dowager queen staunchly put your foot down against that. Children should not be brought outside the home until they have at least lived through the first perilous weeks, and possibly even their first fever. And even then, most would argue, they have no business being around ferocious animals. 
“I don’t like it,” you say, for the umpteenth time, taking the hand offered to you by the prince to help you cross a treacherous stretch. “It is mad, bringing an infant to such a beast - ” 
“Vhagar should know him,” he says, steadfast and determined. As he has done whenever you voiced your concern. 
It does nothing at all to calm your nerves. But it is his most compelling argument, and the only reason you have allowed this lunacy in the first place. So the dragon would recognise the boy as his, and as one of her own. So she would know to protect him, if - something should happen. 
You make it halfway across the pebbled beach before the prince pauses. And you do too, lifting your gaze to follow his line of sight; see what he is looking at. 
An enormous, greyish mass, some yards away, that at first you thought was a moss-grown rock, or years of washed up seaweed. But the mass makes a rumbling noise and begins to shift and lift itself, slowly and carefully, as though with much effort. Part of it becomes a leg, another part unfurls into a great wing, and the rock nearest to you becomes a head, with a mouth full of jagged teeth, and two eyes opening slowly. Amber in colour, and with slitted pupils staring straight at you. 
“She can sense me,” the prince declares, with no small amount of pride, lifting his chin and straightening his back. 
You, however, are paralysed, utterly shocked by her vastness. You have never seen Vhagar this close before, and though you knew of her impressive size, it is one thing to see her soaring across the sky, and quite another to be right next to her, unprotected and vulnerable.
It seems to you that the span of her wings could cover half the city, that entire buildings could fit in her mouth. And certainly, she could end all three of you with her fiery breath, or with a single swipe of her claw or her massive tail. One wrong move, even if accidental, even if she did not mean to - you would all be dead. 
“Come,” the prince says, pushing at the small of your back. But you stall, digging in your heels, frozen in place at the sight of her. 
“I’ve changed my mind,” you stammer. “We should go back - it is not safe…”
The prince gives an overbearing, if somewhat irritated sigh. 
“Dragons are loyal beasts,” he reassures. “Vhagar is loyal to me, she obeys me - ”
“She is a beast,” you hiss, hugging your drowsy son closer to your chest. “She cannot be trusted. It is too dangerous - I won’t let you bring him any closer - ”
Prince Aemond does not like to be challenged. He turns around to look at you coolly, his voice low and scornful as he speaks. 
“Is your opinion of me so unfavourable, wife, that you think I would risk harm to my own son?”
“No,” you respond, quietly, but truthfully. Since you were married, your opinion of the prince has only risen, slowly but surely. And it continues to do so, still - though perhaps not right now. “I don’t like it - ”
“Mhm - so you said,” your husband says dryly, all but wrenching the swaddled boy from your arms. 
He does not complain, the boy. Prince Aemond comes to visit often, at least once a day, and sometimes more. He sits with the child, reads to him, lets him fall asleep in his arms - not for very long each time, but it is at least enough for the little boy to recognise his father’s low voice and stern face as something safe and comfortable. As is evident from the way he now settles against the prince’s leather-clad chest, tangling his little fist into a lock of his hair. 
The beast remains still, pensive as her rider approaches, her serpent’s eyes fixed on the thing in his arms, on what he is bringing her. Your most precious treasure, your life’s very purpose, completely at the mercy of the greatest dragon in the world. 
You might have felt more at ease if the soft, sparse hair on his head had been silver like his father’s, but alas, it is not. It is exactly like yours, and only the bright violet of his eyes gives away his true inheritance. 
And that seems like too little a thing for such a large creature to notice. 
Prince Aemond calls out in that strange language of his, with the open vowels and the rolling R’s. It is beautiful, especially in his mouth, and the dragon responds at once, contorting herself to let him touch her wrinkled neck with affection. Which is a strange sight, but what is even stranger is the way she grumbles - as though she likes it. He speaks to her as if she was another person, in long, full sentences that are much too complicated for you to even attempt to understand. There is only one word you can make out, for the sole reason that he says it twice - yoreliatzeh, or yorelatzya, or something akin to that. You haven’t a clue as to what it means. 
Vhagar snorts once, and the prince steps back to give her room to move, to rise up onto her legs and bring her head closer, her nose almost touching his hip. While you stand at a distance, staring at the utterly bizarre scene playing out in front of you. A fearsome, vicious beast, sniffing the child like a dog would. Gently and carefully, only she is so big that each of her cautious breaths is like a small gust of wind, making your husband’s hair billow about his face. When she makes a grunting noise, he carefully unwraps some of the swaddlings, holding the child up to let her see him better, smell him better. 
He is bright, your darling boy, and curious, like all babes and children. His eyes are wide as they take in Vhagar’s scaly form, and he gives a soft squeal of surprise or wonder, kicking his little feet under the blankets. Reaching his arm towards the beast's massive head, her massive teeth -
“Aemond, please - ” you gasp, clutching your hands to your throat. 
The prince turns his head to give you a stern look, one that clearly shows he is running out of patience. And maybe this time it is justified, because your fearful outburst startles the boy, who begins to squirm unhappily in his father’s arms. Fussing and whimpering; a sound that is as painful to you as salt to an open wound. 
“Bring him to me,” you plead, “can’t you see that he is frightened - ” 
“He is frightened because you are frightened,” the prince says, as soft spoken as always, but with a hint of something sharp underneath.
He cradles the boy closer to his chest, bouncing him gently, holding his head and murmuring soothing words. Exactly as you would do, and to the same effect. It calms him down, and his big, round eyes start darting around again, taking in his surroundings. The dragon, the grey sea, the fine silver clasps on his father’s clothes. It does seem that the latter intrigues him the most. 
Vhagar lifts her neck and tilts her head just slightly, seemingly very interested in the child, in this tiny little creature; the way he moves his little limbs, and his soft coos and noises. There is an almost… thoughtful look in her eyes, or at the very least a curious one. 
It makes you wonder about the extent of her perception. Whether she truly knows that this is Aemond’s child, that it came from him, from his body, his flesh. If she can sense it somehow, through the bond they purportedly share, or if she understood it when he spoke to her. 
How intelligent is a dragon? Are they like dogs or horses, able to learn the meaning of certain words, but not the full breadth of language? Or do they think as people, with nuance and emotion, and a mind as vivid as your own. 
You do not know. You suppose no one really does. 
“Come,” the prince calls, reaching his arm towards you, beckoning you closer. However, a single glance at Vhagar, whose mighty gaze is now focused on you, is enough to inspire disobedience in even the most well-behaved wife.
“I would really rather not - ”
“She must know the both of you,” he insists. 
“Is that - necessary?” you squirm, wringing your hands, very much aware that you are not a dragon rider, that you haven’t a drop of Valyrian blood. “Vhagar has no reason to think fondly of me…”
The prince scoffs. 
“Are you not the mother of my child?” he says. “Now, come.” 
You must go to him. He is your lord husband, and he is a prince, and such is the way of things. But you are not at all glad to, and you walk with shaky, reluctant steps, gripping onto his elbow and cowering behind him like a frightened child. 
You close your eyes when the dragon lowers her head once more, bringing it towards you. A sudden, low-pitched growl makes your heart tremble, but the prince speaks a soft command. Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī.
It has a calming effect on you too. As does the arm he keeps outstretched in front of you - solely for your comfort, you assume, as it would make no difference whatsoever, should Vhagar decide that she does not like you. But you appreciate the gesture nonetheless.
The air is warm, this close to her, and your skirts move around your legs when she breathes, slowly and deeply, while the prince speaks to her in soft tones. That word again, the one from before, and many others. You know the words for wife, for king, for father, brother, sister, even for dragon, but he says none of those now, so you have no guess as to what he is telling her. Or if she understands. Or what he would call you, if not his wife. 
This woman is my - spouse? lady? lover?
You do have a kind of love for him, and sometimes you think he does for you, too. Sometimes. One can never be sure of anything with the prince, who keeps himself so closely guarded. Even after more than a year of marriage. Even now that you have given him a child. 
The birth went mercifully well, but your recovery was long, and he has only recently begun to come to your bed again. And so far, only a handful of times. The first time, it was so painful for you that the act could not be completed, and the second time, he finished so quickly that it barely even counts. The third was better. Pleasurable for both of you, but still strange after going so long without it - at least for you. It is both likely and possible that the prince satisfied his urges elsewhere while your body was indisposed. You do not know. Nor do you wish to. 
The ground shifts beneath your feet, and the heat around you lessens, as does the heavy smell of burned flesh and brimstone, the very same one that so often clings to your husband’s clothes. When you open your eyes it is to the sight of Vhagar, settled onto her belly, her head laid atop her claws. Calm and docile, and with a deep rumble coming from her chest - one that is probably a sign of contentment, even if it sounds utterly terrifying. 
“Touch her,” the prince commands, giving a gentle push to your back. “You have nothing to fear, touch her.” 
It is quite clear that Vhagar is unruffled by your presence, that she is resting. But with her eyes heavy and half-closed, it makes her look so menacing, so evil - even though you know that evil does not exist inherently in any beast. Only in those who train it. 
You draw in a steadying breath, gathering up your courage, reaching your hand out - only to then think better of it and let it fall. 
“I am afraid to,” you whisper.
The prince sighs. But his hand closes gently around yours, bringing it to rest on the side of her nose, first the tips of your fingers, and then your whole palm. 
It is like nothing else you have ever felt, her scales. You always imagined that a dragon’s skin would feel like leather, but Vhagar’s skin is so much tougher, so much rougher, like running your hand over little rocks. And she is warm - so warm, as though a fire is always burning somewhere in her throat. 
She does not object at all to your touch, even when the prince withdraws his own hand, leaving only yours. Only you and Vhagar. The largest, oldest being in the world. 
To think, the things she has seen. The conquest, the Dornish Wars, the very founding of the realm of the Seven Kingdoms. Dozens of castles have crumbled in her fire, and thousands of people have perished, and she has fought and won hundreds of battles; torn through stone, rock and earth as though it was boiled jelly. 
It is at once terrifying and romantic, like something from a fairytale, or stories of ancient times. A creature of such myth and legend that you almost feel as though you should bow down to her, as one does before a great matriarch.
Vhagar the Conqueror. Queen of all Dragons. 
She closes her eyes when you draw back. 
“He might ride her too, some day,” the prince says quietly. Wistfully. 
“But dragons only have one rider - ” you protest, cutting yourself off when you realise what he meant. What he left unsaid. 
This is war. The realm is at war. Death is everywhere; at the end of a blade, in the point of an arrow. And if not on the field of battle, then in tainted water or plague-ridden camps; empty bellies or festering wounds.
“You shouldn’t say such things,” you mutter, looking down at your feet. Your dirtied shoes. 
The prince does not answer. A heavy mood has settled over the rocky beach, something vast and bleak and empty, only compounded by the surroundings. The colourless sky, the sombre crashing of waves. Even Vhagar gives a doleful sigh, as though she too is weary of what is to come.
She has been the prince’s companion since childhood. He was born to the queen, but Vhagar made him what he is, made him ruthless, made him brutally ambitious. Made him Aemond One-Eye, Aemond the Kinslayer. Prince Regent, Protector of the Realm. She has known him boy and man, as well as any, and better than most. She has known him in life, and she may yet know him in death.
You push that thought away as forcefully as your mind allows. You shouldn’t think such things. 
A coo from your son breaks the tension, and his eyes turn to the sky, where a large heron is flapping its wings. The afternoon is turning to evening, and soon the bell will ring for supper - something warm and comforting, you hope. You are cold, your breasts feel sore, and you have most certainly had enough excitement for one day. For several days, in fact.
“Can we go, please,” you breathe, looking up at your husband with wide, pleading eyes. 
“She is tired,” he says, with a soft glance at Vhagar’s terrifying face, and a gentle touch to her side. “Yes, we should.”
You walk slower on the way back. Uphill, with sore feet, and your boy now fast asleep in your arms. Safe and snug where he belongs. 
“My Prince,” you begin, sweet and innocent. “What does… yoreliatzeh mean?”
There is a sly little smile on his face when you look at him, a self-assured look in his remaining eye.
“Jorrāeliarza,” he corrects, with an artful pause before he continues. As though to keep you in suspense. “It means dear. Or… beloved.”
If he sees the sudden blush on your face, he does not let on. 
“Jorālitzeh.”
“No,” he says. “Jor-rāe-liar-za.”
“Jor-rāe-liar-za,” you repeat, trying your very best to mimic the exact movements of his mouth, the way he gently rolls his tongue. “Jorrāeliarza.”
“Better,” he nods, and then you round a corner, just in time to see the guards hastily hide their cards away, and the driver shuffling back towards the carriage, eagerly shoving his winnings into a pocket. 
Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza. 
Dear. Beloved. 
You like that very much.  
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Please feel free to come into my asks or DMs with critique of my fics! Constructive is preferred, but not required.
Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness, @aemondsbabygirl, @qyburnsghost, @blackswxnn
I am a mess with the tagging, I'm so sorry if I forgot or wrongly tagged anyone. Let me know, I will fix it.
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thestuffedalligator · 1 year ago
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The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin. They both looked down at the crumpled shape of the Overlord, His Unholy Majesty, in his obsidian armor.
His final spasms had been mesmerizingly acrobatic. The fall down the steps leading up to his iron throne had pretzelled his body quite impressively, both arms folded behind his back and one leg bent at a jaunty angle.
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.
"Shit," said the goblin.
"Shit," said the orc.
"We're likely to get blamed for this," the goblin said. She walked over to the head of the glittering mangled heap and started pulling the helmet off.
"It's not our fault," the orc said. "It's hard to help someone choking when they wear two-hundred pounds of spiked armor at all times."
"Yeah, well," the goblin grunted. The helmet came free, and the bald head of the Overlord bounced on the stone with a hollow, coconut noise. "You know how it is in this bloody country - thieves get their heads cut off so they can't think about thieving, and all that." She fished in the Overlord's mouth with a finger and pulled out the obstructing olive on the end of her claw.
She popped it into her mouth and chewed. "What do you reckon they do for a regicide?" she said.
"We should run," the orc said. She had started bouncing her leg. "I hear that there's some places in the Alliance where they just kill you and let you stay dead. That's got to be nicer than what'll happen if we stay here."
The goblin started to nod - and then her gaze fell on the helmet.
It looked like a pineapple designed by a deranged blacksmith. It was all thorns and spikes and hard edges, as though the maker had been very determined to not let pigeons roost on it. The only bits that weren't solid iron were eyeholes. Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face.
She held up the helmet and squinted from it to the orc. One of the thorns had been bent badly in the fall.
Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face...
"Right," she muttered. "Right. Could work - or."
The orc had a sudden vision of the immediate future. "No," she said.
"I mean you're about his height-"
"No."
"It would just be for a-"
"Absolutely not."
"Just hear me out," the goblin said. "Outside of this room are two-thousand men and orcs and goblins who are absolutely gonzo about this man, and there's a whole country of them outside of the castle, and at any moment someone's going to walk in that door and see one dead tit in black armor and two unbelievably dead idiots next to him.
"Or." She tossed the helmet up like a basketball to the orc, who fumbled and tried to find somewhere to hold it that wasn't a knife's edge. "We chuck him out the window now, walk out the door in the armor, and ditch the armor as soon as nobody sees us."
The orc had started bouncing her leg again. "They'll know something's up the second I walk out of the room."
"No worries," said the goblin. "Leave that to me."
---
It had been a very strange year for the Empire.
Change had rolled across the land as slow and inevitable as a glacier. Roads and bridges carved the gray, blasted wildlands, and a number of social reforms had made the country a place where you could be miserable, yes, but miserable in comfort and safety, and that was an improvement.
Barely anyone got boiled alive in molten metal, and even if the disgusted sun never rose to light the Empire, at least you had a roof over your head to protect yourself from the acid rain.
"Your empire flourishes, Your Unholy Majesty," the magician said over her wine glass. She looked down from the tower's balcony over the gleaming stone battlements. Some work had been done to line the castle and surrounding city with sizzling, crackling alchemical lights at night. The whole thing glowed like something dangerously radioactive.
The suit of armor waved a languid, glittering gauntlet over to the goblin, who bowed.
"His Abominable Gloriousness Thanks You," the goblin recited. "The Prosperity Of His Empire Can Only Be Achieved Through The Prosperity Of His People."
"If I may be so bold, I am quite pleased that you had chosen to take my counsel under consideration," said the magician. "We have accomplished many things together."
Another wave. Another bow. "The Overlord, May His Presence Swallow The Sun And Stars, Thanks You As Well."
"It was quite gratifying to see you change your mind, after so many centuries of denial." The wine was swirled. "Tell me, what was it that finally gave you cause to listen to me?"
There was the slightest hesitation. The goblin's eyes flicked to the armor, then to the magician. She puffed out her chest. "Do you question the wisdom of His Austere Lugubriousness?" she asked.
The magician looked at the goblin. She looked at the armor. She tipped her head back and drank the wine too quickly.
She looked back at the armor. "I know you're the orc, you moron," she said.
The room went deathly still. An alchemical light fizzled.
The orc pulled off the helmet, sending long, untied hair down tangling, and said: "How could you possibly-"
"Because you're both idiots!" the magician said. The goblin jumped. The orc jumped with a noise like a dropped stove. "What kind of a plan was this?! If it wasn't for me, you would have been turned into fertilizer months ago."
She closed her eyes. She took a long, dramatic breath. She set the wine glass down on the balcony rail.
"How did the Overlord die?" she asked when she seemed like she had gotten a hold over herself.
"Choked on an olive," said the goblin.
"Threw his body out the window," said the orc.
"You don't have to mention the window," said the goblin.
"Right," said the orc. "Sorry."
The magician looked out over the city, hand curled thoughtfully under her nose. "Who knows about this?"
"Just us. And, uh. You. Apparently."
"And why did you accept my counsel?"
The orc blinked. "Sorry?"
"Why did you accept my counsel?" the magician repeated.
"Well," the orc said. "Well - you seemed like you had good ideas-"
"Great ideas!" the goblin said with an edge of desperation. "Don't know why the old bastard didn't listen to you!"
"Right - right," said the orc. "And when we figured we were stuck doing this - well, it just made sense, really."
The magician seemed to absorb this. She nodded. "All right," she said, striding between the two and grabbing the crystal decanter.
"Um," said the orc. "Sorry. What happens now?"
"What happens is that you two will continue to serve as Overlord," said the magician. "You will continue to take my counsel. We will continue to reform this bloody country, and gods willing, we will turn it into the crown jewel of the world by next Midwinter."
The orc looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the orc.
"Really?" the goblin asked.
"Oh yes," said the magician. "I've worked hard to be counsel to the Overlord, and I have no reason to stop now. And besides-"
She looked the orc up and down with a deliberate slowness, poring over every microscopic detail, eyes tracing over every jagged line, and grinned like a panther.
"You look much better in the armor than he ever did," she said. Dark robes swirled like a becleavaged thundercloud, and she strode out through the high iron doors, decanter in hand.
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.
"Shit," said the goblin.
"Shit," said the orc.
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simjaexy · 2 months ago
Text
𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙈𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙇.𝙃.
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Pairing ⇀ Popular Bad Boy! Lee Heeseung x (F) Nerd! Reader
Synopsis ⇀ You were a nerd, always with your nose in a book, acing every test, and keeping a low profile. What comes as a normal life of yours soon takes a turn when your mom finally gets married to a man that you soon found out was Lee Heeseung dad, the school bad boy. Even though Heeseung doesn’t know you, he can’t help but want to corrupt you in every possible way. So what happens when new things start to unfold between you two that he’s never felt before with someone?
Genre ⇀ Smut, Angst
Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cheating, Karina is Heeseung’s girlfriend, Cursing, Crying, Minor character death, Family issues (on Heeseungs side), Heeseung is mean and toxic to reader a lot of times, Partying, Drinking, Bullying, Jealousy, Kissing, Making out, Biting, Hickeys, Receiving (m&f), Blowjobs, Eating out, Dom! Heeseung x Sub! Reader, Name calling (nerd, princess, etc.), Grinding, Semi public sex, Overstimulation (f), Fingering, Jealous sex, Rough sex, Breeding kink
W.c ⇀ 12.4k (oops)
A/n ⇀ Hi guys :), this fic honestly was fun and long to make. I was gonna make it longer but since I’m making a Sunghoon fic soon Kndecided to just keep it simple (somewhat). If you guys want a request of another fic/drabble I would not mind at all! This fic is based off of this song so take a listen to it! None of these characters act like this in real life! Like, Comment, Reblog, etc.. Not proofread!
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Second marriages were a bitch. As much as you loved seeing your mom feeling happy again, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something missing. Your Happiness. You wouldn’t say you were exactly happy when your mom sat you down at the dining table and saying she was getting married.
You remember how nervous she sounded, her fingers fidgeting in stress. You didn’t know you could make her feel that way over marriage. You’ve always been close to your dad until he died. It was a hard time coping, which is why you bury yourself with books and studies. You were called a nerd by other people though, but that’s not the whole point why you were moving.
Moving into a new house was supposed to be a fresh start for you and your mom. After years of living alone, your mom finally found happiness with a man you didn’t know at all, and their marriage meant a new family dynamic.
You weren’t sure if the mysterious man however had a kid. You were hoping he didn’t, it would mean less problems to you and babysitting when they go out. Only if you knew who would be the person that would be with you and your happy little life from that day on.
“Is he rich?” You asked your mom who was driving you guys to the house. You noticed she was less nervous now, but still had her fidgeting habit going on.
“I didn’t marry him because he is rich sweetie. I married him because I loved him.” You mom replied.
You shrugged your shoulders, “So he is rich.” You mumbled. Your mom didn’t say anything and continued driving with the music low. You didn’t mention anything else after that.
You and your mom drove through the winding roads, the scenery gradually changing from modest homes to grand estates. Your heart raced with anticipation and curiosity.
Once your mom finally came to a stop at a big house, your mouth went agape. The mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sprawling gardens were meticulously maintained, with fountains and statues dotting the landscape. You couldn't help but gape at the sheer size and opulence of it all.
"Wow," You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.
Your mom glanced over at you with a knowing smile, "Impressive, isn't it? Mr. Lee has done very well for himself."
As you pulled up to the grand entrance, you couldn’t help but think of the last name. Lee? It’s sounded somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.
As you guys got out the car, Mr. Lee stepped out to greet you, his smile as warm and welcoming as ever, "Welcome! I hope the drive wasn't too tiring," He said. He went over to your mom and gave her a quick peck to the lips. You mentally gag at the way they were already being loved dovey.
He then went towards you, giving you a quick handshake that you appreciated before he ushered you both inside.
The interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and art pieces that looked like they belonged in a museum. You tried to take it all in, but it was almost too much.
“This place is amazing," you said, still in awe. He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes.
"I'm glad you like it. Come on, let me show you around." He insisted. As you followed him through the grand halls and lavish rooms, you couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t something you were used too.
You were used to your cozy house that had a tiny garden on one side of your front yard, the claustrophobic hallway you used to run in when you were little. The small living room that only fitted up to five people. Thinking about your old house already felt nostalgic. Walking through this though, you didn’t know if you were gonna get used to it.
Mr. Lee finally came to a halt at the stairs and stared over at you, “The maid can show you your room. She knows where it’s at.”
You noticed a middle aged woman next to Mr. Lee smiling at you. You gave him a curt nod before following the maid upstairs. As you walked in the halls with the maid you couldn’t help but stare at the photos hung up.
You didn’t see any photos of a women or a kid anywhere with Mr. Lee, so maybe you really were gonna be the only child. Some part of that made you feel giddy. The maid finally stops at a door and opens it. You went inside in awe. Your room was beautiful to say the least.
The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in streams of natural light. The walls were painted a soft pastel color, giving the room a serene and welcoming feel. A plush, king-sized bed sat in the center, adorned with fluffy pillows and a cozy duvet.
To one side of the room, there was a stylish desk with a comfortable chair, perfect for studying or writing. Shelves lined the walls, ready to be filled with your favorite books and trinkets. A beautiful vanity stood in one corner, complete with a large mirror and ample storage for all your beauty essentials.
The best part, however, was the view. Walking over to the windows, you pulled back the curtains and gasped. The room overlooked a stunning garden, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. You could already imagine spending hours sitting by the window, enjoying the peaceful scenery.
You couldn't help but smile as you took it all in. This room was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. It was your own little sanctuary, a place where you could relax, unwind, and be yourself.
You turned to look over at the maid who was still smiling, “Beautiful isn’t it? It was my idea since I’m the only women in this house.” The maid chimed.
“It’s very beautiful. Thank you.” You responded. She gave you chuckle and a nod before slowly shutting the door, leaving you alone in the room.
As you started to unpack your belongings and make the room your own, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. This was your new home, and you couldn't wait to create beautiful memories here.
The sun was setting when you finally finished unpacking a few boxes. You let out a sigh and wiped your sweat off your forehead. You checked the time and saw that it was almost time for you to head to sleep.
As you were about to move a box, you suddenly felt the random urge to use the restroom, “Now that I thought about it I haven’t you used the restroom all day.” You murmured to yourself. You opened your bedroom door and stepped out.
You wandered through the unfamiliar hallways of Mr. Lee’s mansion, trying to remember the directions he had given you to the bathroom. Every door looked the same, and you were starting to feel a bit lost.
Pushing open yet another door, you suddenly froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood a boy you knew all too well. Lee Heeseung, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around him. It seemed like he just got out of the shower since his hair was still wet. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" You blurted out, quickly averting your gaze, "I was just looking for the bathroom.”
Heeseung's expression shifted to one of annoyance, "Do you always barge into rooms without knocking?" He snapped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"I-I didn't mean to," You stammered, feeling even more flustered. "I just got lost."
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles even more prominent, "Typical. Can't even follow simple directions from my dad."
You felt a mix of embarrassment and irritation at his rude comments, "Look, I said I was sorry. It was an accident. A-And your dad didn’t give me any directions!”
Heeseung scoffed, a scowl on his lips, "Whatever. Just get out of here."
You quickly backed out of the room, closing the door behind you. As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Angry, embarrassed, upset, and flustered? You groaned as you entered your room again and slammed it shut. You plopped on your bed.
The thought suddenly came to you. Lee Heeseung owns this house too, and you don’t think he’s gonna be nice to you anytime soon. You sighed and rolled on your bed. You were just hoping tomorrow won’t go bad. And ignoring the fact that you still had to use the restroom.
The next morning, you groggily made your way down to the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. As you rounded the corner, you froze. There, standing by the kitchen island, was Heeseung, chatting casually with your mom and his dad. Your mom noticed you first and smiled warmly.
"Good morning, sweetie! Come here, I want you to meet someone," She said, beckoning you over. You walked over, feeling a bit nervous under Heeseung's gaze.
"This is Heeseung," Your mom introduced, "Mr. Lee son."
Heeseung smirked, looking you up and down. "Oh, so you're the one who lives here? I was wondering why the house felt so... ordinary."
You felt your face heat up with anger. He met you yesterday and now he’s gonna act like he doesn’t know you? The audacity! You forced a smile and replied, "Nice to meet you too, Heeseung."
Your mom looked between the two of you, clearly sensing the tension. "Well, I'm sure you'll get along just fine once you get to know each other," She said, trying to lighten the mood.
You shot Heeseung one last glare before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. You rather eat breakfast at school than in front of him.
You adjusted your glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your backpack. Today was going to be another long day at school, but you were ready for it. As you reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and you found yourself face to face with Heeseung.
Heeseung leaned against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips, "Hey, nerd," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You sighed, already feeling the tension, "What do you want, Heeseung?"
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Just a little reminder," He said, his tone turning serious, "When we're at school, don't act like we live together. In fact, don't act like you even know me."
You felt a pang of hurt but masked it with a cool expression, "Don't worry, Heeseung. I have no intention of ruining your reputation."
Heeseung's smirk returned, "Good. Just keep to yourself, and we'll be fine."
With that, he stepped aside, letting you pass. You walked down the hallway, feeling a mix of emotions. Living with Heeseung was already challenging, but pretending like you didn't know each other at school was going to be even harder.
As you walked out the door, you couldn't help but wonder why he cared so much about what others thought. But one thing was clear: you were determined to survive this, no matter how difficult Heeseung made it.
Classes slowly came along, you hated how tired you already were. But one thing for sure is that it was the walking this morning. You had to walk to school while Heeseung just drove right past you with his expensive car, not even offering to ask if you wanted a ride to the same damn school.
When it finally came to lunch you decided to go to the library, a place where you could immerse yourself in books and escape the chaos of high school life.
You were hunched over a thick biology textbook, diligently taking notes when you heard the familiar sound of giggles and whispers. You tried to ignore it, but the voices grew louder until they were impossible to tune out.
"Look at her, always with her nose in a book," One of the girls sneered. "Does she think she’s better than us?"
You kept your eyes on your notes, hoping they would get bored and leave. But they didn’t.
"Hey, nerd," Another girl said, leaning over your table and blocking your view, "Do you even have a life outside of studying?"
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, “I’m just trying to study. Can you please leave me alone?"
The girls laughed, and one of them snatched your notebook, “Oh, look at this! She’s taking notes like a good little student."
You reached out to grab your notebook back, but they held it out of reach, teasing you. Just then, you saw Heeseung walk past the library entrance. Your heart leaped with a strange mix of hope and anxiety. Surely, he would help you. After all, you shared a house, even if he pretended you didn’t exist at school.
"Heeseung!" you called out, your voice wavering slightly.
Heeseung paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. But instead of coming to your aid, he simply looked away and continued walking, as if you were invisible.
The girls burst into laughter again, "Even Heeseung doesn’t care about you. How pathetic."
You felt a lump form in your throat, but you refused to cry in front of them. Summoning all your strength, you snatched your notebook back and gathered your things, leaving the library as quickly as you could.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. You couldn’t focus in class, your mind replaying the humiliating scene over and over. When the final bell rang, you headed home, determined to confront Heeseung.
You found him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. "Heeseung, we need to talk," You said, your voice firm.
He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, “What’s up, nerd?"
You took a deep breath, "Why didn’t you help me today? You saw those girls making fun of me, and you just walked away."
Heeseung shrugged, closing the fridge door, "Not my problem."
Your frustration boiled over, "How can you say that? We live together, Heeseung. You could have at least said something to them."
Heeseung leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, "Look, what happens at school stays at school. I’m not your babysitter. Deal with your own problems."
You stared at him, disbelief and hurt washing over you, "Is that really how you feel? That I’m just a problem?"
Heeseung’s expression softened for a brief moment, but he quickly masked it with indifference, "Yeah, pretty much."
You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, "Fine. If that’s how it is, then don’t expect anything from me either."
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Heeseung standing in the kitchen. As you retreated to your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.
You had always known Heeseung was a popular person but also bad at the same time, for his rebellious nature, skipping classes, and getting into trouble, but you had hoped there was more to him. Today, he had shown you exactly who he was, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.
You were glad tomorrow was the weekend which meant you can just sleep all the embarrassment away from today. You quickly changed and went right to sleep, not even bothering to take off your glasses.
The morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, feeling unusually refreshed. As you reached for your glasses, you noticed they were perfectly set on the nightstand. Confused, you distinctly remembered falling asleep with them on.
You slipped on your glasses and made your way downstairs, the aroma of breakfast guiding you. Entering the kitchen, you saw your mom chatting with Mr. Lee, but there was no sign of Heeseung.
“Good morning, sweetheart," Your mom greeted you with a smile.
“Morning, Mom," You replied, still puzzled, "Did you take off my glasses last night?"
She shook her head, looking just as confused, “No, I didn't. Maybe Heeseung did before he left with his friends?"
Your eyebrows furrowed more. Heeseung came into my room? You shook your head and gave your mom a tight smile. Whatever she was thinking had to be wrong. Not after what happened last night.
Your mom then got up and exscused herself to the restroom. You sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the breakfast your mom had prepared. Mr. Lee joined you, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful.
"Did Heeseung ever get a chance to talk to you?" he asked casually.
You hesitated for a moment, the best you could do is lie after anything that’s happening between you, "No, we didn't have time to talk."
Heeseung's dad sighed, shaking his head. "That boy... He never wants to talk to anyone aside from me and his close friends. It's like he's in his own world sometimes."
Hearing this, you felt a pang of guilt for lying. You knew Heeseung was reserved, but it hurt seeing that his father noticed that too.
“I-I mean we say our hi’s and byes. We just don’t really have a full conversation.” You spoke.
His father nodded, “I’m just hoping you talk to him soon. I’m not trying to put any pressure on the two of you, but Heeseung has always done bad things after my divorce with my ex wife. He’d always go out doing bad stuff and getting in deep trouble. Then he’d go partying and drinking and come back home late. I feel like if you guys talked he’d understand on your side that it’s not just about messing up your life for the worse.”
You stared at him pitful. Maybe if you could try to talk to Heeseung about everything with his dad it could help, but then again it’s not your problem to fix.
“I understand where your coming from Mr. Lee. I’ll try to talk to Heeseung more often.” You smiled softly. Mr. Lee smiled back grateful. Your mom soon came back as you all continued eating your food.
The sun began setting when you decided to finally leave your room after studying for so long. You tiptoed downstairs and headed to the living room. There you saw Heeseung playing video games on the big TV yelling at his friends.
“Dude what the fuck? I said left dumbass!” He shouted. You rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen and grabbed a snack. You took a piece of candy bar and chewed on it while heading back upstairs while hearing Heeseung cuss out his friends.
You shut the door and grabbed your phone as you sat on your bed. You scrolled through social media for a while when all of a sudden your door slammed open. Your eyes widened when you saw Heeseung looking angrily at you.
His eyes widened when he saw you holding something, “Hey! Did you just steal my candy bar?"
You looked up, then looked down at the candy that was already almost gone. Feeling a bit guilty but also defiant, “I was hungry and it was just sitting there."
Heeseung frowned, clearly upset, "That was mine! I was saving it for later."
"I'm sorry, Heeseung. I didn't think you'd mind. I'll get you another one." You reasoned, but Heeseungs ant having any of it.
Before he was gonna rant, he suddenly stopped himself, “I don’t want another one.” He suddenly said.
Your eyebrows furrowed, “T-Then what do you want?” You stuttered. You mentally slapped yourself from how nervous you sounded. Heeseung didn’t say anything and suddenly walked to you, pushing you on your bed. You let out a gasp and stared up at him on top of you.
“Heeseung what are you-“
“Shut up.” He cut you off. You felt his breath on your face. You lay frozen underneath him, waiting for his next move. He took one of his hands and rubbed along your leg making you jolt.
“Hee-“
“I said shut up.” He snapped. You immediately shut your mouth. He then lowered his head on your neck. You felt his hot breath hitting your cold neck. Your eyes shot wide when you felt him lay a soft kiss on it.
“What if I wanna taste something sweeter?” He mumbled in your neck. You let out a whimper when he suddenly squeezed your leg tight. You shut your eyes closed when he finally lifted his head back up, staring right at you.
You waited, but nothing came. Instead you felt his weight get off of you making you slowly open your eyes. You saw him on the side of your bed, with his half eaten candy bar in his hand.
“Next time ask.” Was all he said before leaving your room, slamming it shut. You finally let go of the breath you were holding on to and held your chest.
What the fuck just happen.
After that incident you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the night. You didn’t wanna see Heeseung after what happened. You were deep into your late-night study session when a faint noise downstairs caught your attention.
Curious and a bit concerned, you quietly made your way down the stairs. The sight of Heeseung, dressed in his usual bad boy attire and slipping on his leather jacket, stopped you in your tracks.
"Heeseung, where are you going?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung glanced at you, his expression unreadable, "It's none of your business," He replied curtly.
You frowned, sensing something was off. "I know you're going to a party. You shouldn't go. What if your dad finds out?"
Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head, “I don't care what he thinks. I need to get out of here."
You stepped closer, your concern growing, "Please, Heeseung. It's not worth the trouble. You know how much your dad worries about you."
Heeseung paused, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. For a second, you thought he might reconsider. But then he turned away, determination in his stride, "I'll deal with it," he muttered before heading out the door.
You stood there, feeling a mix of worry and helplessness, hoping that Heeseung would stay safe and that one day he might understand how much people cared about him.
You didn’t get how he turns so fast from you. The mix emotions he gives you that leaves you a mess. Has he always had that impact on someone? You went back upstairs deciding to just leave it alone. Besides, he’ll never listen to you.
After few hours of thinking and worrying for Heeseung you finally were able to go to sleep. The house was silent and dark, when you heard the creak of your bedroom door. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Heeseung stumbling into your room. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused.
"Heeseung? What are you doing here?" You asked, sitting up in bed.
Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his head resting on your pillow, "I just... I needed to see you," He slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.
You frowned, worried about his state, "You shouldn't be here. You need to sleep it off."
Heeseung ignored your concern, his eyes half-closed, "You know, you're always so... so smart. I wish I could be like you. Those fuckers.. don’t know what their talking about," He mumbled, his words tumbling out in a disjointed stream.
Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Shocked, you froze for a moment before instinctively slapping him.
Heeseung pulled back, a hurt look in his eyes. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, getting up and stumbling out of the room.
You sat there, your heart racing, trying to process what had just happened. You didn’t know what came over you to slap him. You then touch your lips. His faint soft lips printed on yours. It then hit you, he was your first kiss.
The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. The events of the previous night played on a loop in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. As you walked down the hallway, you saw Heeseung approaching from the other end. Your heart raced, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you.
Heeseung walked past you without a second glance, as if nothing had happened. Confused and hurt, you turned to confront him, "Heeseung, about last night..."
Heeseung stopped and looked at you, his expression blank, “What about last night?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
“You- don’t you remember?" you said, your voice trembling slightly.
Heeseung frowned, shaking his head, "I don't remember anything from last night. I was pretty out of it."
His words felt like a punch to the gut. You had been so affected by what happened, but to him, it was just a forgotten moment in a drunken haze. Feeling a mix of frustration and sadness, you walked away to the restroom, trying to push the memory to the back of your mind.
How could he forget that? Now you're the only one to remember the mess he had made. You did your usual in the bathroom and came out. You didn’t Heeseung anywhere and went back to your room. Maybe going on a walk would be fine to clear the head. As you finished getting dressed, you opened your door and headed downstairs.
You didn’t noticed Heeseung anywhere and put on your shoes before heading out the door. As you stepped outside, you saw him playing basketball in the driveway.
Heeseung glanced up, noticing you, "Where are you going?" he asked, pausing his game.
"For a walk," You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
He simply nodded and went back to his game, the sound of the ball bouncing echoing in the quiet morning. You continued walking, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he had kissed you. The memory was vivid, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it off.
Each step you took seemed to bring back a fragment of that moment, making it harder to move on. You felt a pang of longing mixed with the hurt of knowing he didn't remember. The walk, meant to be a distraction, only made you more aware of the emotions you were trying to escape.
You came back a few minutes later, it was just a walk around the neighborhood anyways. Heeseung was still playing, not paying any mind to you. You walked past him and went inside. You decided to do your studies in the kitchen.
You went upstairs to grab your essentials before coming back down and sitting at the kitchen table, buried in a pile of homework. Heeseung soon came inside and sauntered in the kitchen. He grabbed an apple, and sat across from you. He watched you intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Why do you always have your head in a book? Don't you ever do anything fun?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple.
"Studying is fun for me," you replied curtly, not looking up.
Heeseung laughed, "You really are something else."
You rolled your eyes, “At least I don’t go out partying and getting drunk and coming back and doing the unthinkable.”
Heeseung stopped chewing and stared at you with an unreadable expression. It was silent for a few minutes and that’s when you were gonna apologize but he beat you to it.
“Did I bring my girlfriend over yesterday?” He whispered. You paused and looked at him. He has a girlfriend? You felt your mouth go completely dry.
Heeseung has a girlfriend. When the hell did he had a girlfriend? That’s when it finally came to you. Heeseung has a girlfriend, and he kissed you. Heeseung noticed your shocked face and waved his hand in front of your face, “Nerd? You there?” He said.
“Y-You have a girlfriend?” You questioned.
Heeseung frowned before nodding, “Haven’t told my dad though since he would freak out, but now that I’ve brung her over it’s fine.”
He thinks he brung her over last night. He really doesn’t remember anything, you thought.
“No you didn’t bring her over Heeseung, “ You didn’t know if it was even okay to say anything at this point, “I-I was talking about what you did with me-“
“Y/n sweetie were heading out can you lock the door?” You mom yells from the living room. You gasped, completely forgetting that your mom and Mr. Lee were even home.
“Coming!” You yelled back. You ignored Heeseungs look and went to your mom in the living room. She kissed your cheek before shutting the door. You locked it and headed back to the kitchen.
You noticed Heesueng looked deep in thought. You slowly walked over to him, “Heeseung-“
"Forget about last night," He said abruptly, his voice lacking its usual edge.
You blinked, taken aback, "What do you mean?"
Heeseung's eyes shifted away from yours, "Just forget it happened," he repeated, more firmly this time. Without waiting for a response, he got up from his seat and walked away, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of emotions.
You decided to shake it off and bury yourself in your homework, but his words kept coming back. Each time you tried to focus on a math problem or a history chapter, your mind wandered back to the way he said it so causally. It was impossible to concentrate, and your frustration grew with each passing minute.
As night fell, you heard the familiar sound of Heeseung's laughter outside. You looked out the window and saw him heading out with his friends, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. You didn’t even hear him leave. The sight of him leaving made your heart sink. A mix of anger and sadness welled up inside you, he really doesn’t learn.
The next morning, something felt off. You woke up and immediately went to Heeseungs room. You knocked on the door about five times before opening it, that’s when you noticed that Heeseung's bed was untouched. Panic started to creep in as you realized he hadn't come home. You tried to rationalize it, telling yourself that he might have crashed at a friend's place. But the nagging worry wouldn't go away.
As you made your way downstairs, you were greeted by Mr. Lee. His eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell he had noticed Heeseung's absence as well. "Did Heeseung mention anything to you last night? He didn’t come home last night or today." he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that Heeseung had gone out and hadn't come back. But something held you back. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to Heeseung you didn’t know of, or perhaps a fear of getting him into trouble, "No, nothing happened," You lied, forcing a smile, “He probably just stayed over at a friend's place."
Heeseung's dad didn't look convinced, but he nodded, seemingly accepting your explanation. You quickly grabbed your bag and headed out the door, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.
School felt like a blur. You couldn't focus on your classes, your mind constantly drifting back to Heeseung. You scanned the hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere in sight. Each passing hour only intensified your worry.
By lunchtime, you were a bundle of nerves. You sat alone at your usual spot in the cafeteria, poking at your food without any real appetite. The absence of Heeseung was worrying you like crazy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As the day dragged on, you found yourself checking your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call from him. But there was nothing. The silence was deafening, and the worry gnawed at you like a relentless beast.
You knew you had to find him, to make sure he was okay. But where to start? Heeseung was a master at keeping his whereabouts a mystery, and you had no idea where he could be. The uncertainty was suffocating, and you felt utterly helpless.
As you walked home that evening, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened, something that had kept Heeseung from coming home.
Heeseung finally stumbled through the front door late at night, his usual nonchalant demeanor firmly in place. You had been sitting on the couch, unable to focus on anything but the worry gnawing at your insides. The moment you saw him, relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of frustration and concern.
"Heeseung, where have you been?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.
He shrugged, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the stairs, "Out with friends. I'm going to bed," He said casually.
Before he could take another step, Mr. Lee appeared, blocking his path. "Heeseung, we need to talk," Mr. Lee said sternly.
Heeseung rolled his eyes, "Not now, Dad. I'm tired."
But his dad wasn't having it, "No, we're talking now. You can't just come and go as you please without any explanation."
The tension in the room was palpable as the argument escalated, “And who are you to stop me?” Heeseung snapped. You gasped at the way Heeseung said that to Me. Lee.
Me. Lee let out a deep breath through his nose, “I am your father Heeseung.”
Heeseung scoffed, “You lost that status the second you told mom you wanted a divorce.”
Everything else just felt faint to you. Voices were raised, accusations were thrown, and you could see the hurt and anger in Heeseung's eyes. Finally, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.
You hesitated for a moment, watching as Mr. Lee went to sit on the kitchen table. You decided to follow Heesueng. You found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Without a word, you sat down next to him and gently placed a hand on his back. Heeseung looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace, “It's okay, Heeseung. I'm here for you," you murmured.
Heeseung finally let the tears fall, his body shaking with silent sobs. You held him close, offering what comfort you could. Gradually, the tension began to ease, and the exhaustion of the day caught up with both of you.
Eventually, you both lay down on his bed, still holding each other. As the night wore on, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the day fading away in the warmth of both of your presence.
The next morning, you woke up early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. You got ready for school, the house unusually quiet. As you walked into the kitchen, you were surprised to see Mr. Lee and your mom sitting at the table, sipping coffee and chatting.
"Good morning," you greeted them, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Good morning, dear," your mom replied with a warm smile, "Heeseung's in the shower. He'll be out soon."
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You quickly got dressed and gathered your things for school. Just as you were finishing up, Heeseung emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and a towel slung over his shoulders.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual.
"Hey," you replied, trying to read his expression.
Heeseung hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "Do you want a ride to school?"
You blinked in surprise. Heeseung offering to drive you to school was unexpected, especially after the tense night before. "Uh, sure. That'd be great."
As you walked to his car, you couldn't help but notice how different he seemed. The usual edge in his demeanor was softened, and he seemed genuine. The ride to school was quiet, but it wasn't the uncomfortable silence you had feared. Instead, it felt comforting.
When you arrived at school, Heeseung turned to you, "Thanks for being there last night."
You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Anytime, Heeseung. Anytime."
Students watched as you and Heeseung got out of his cars. Whispers and chatters were heard around you, but you didn’t seem to care. Heeseung walked you to your class and bid you goodbye.
You didn’t know why Heeseung decided to change like this, but at the same time you weren’t complaining.
The school day went by fast to you. You didn’t see Heeseung at lunch, but decided to ignore it. You stepped out of the school gates and saw Heeseung. He made eye contact with you. You slowly walked over to him confused.
“Are you waiting for someone?” You asked him. He nodded his head and tilted it.
“I was waiting for you.” He spoke. Your eyes widened.
“Me? Why?” You mumbled. It was more like a question to yourself than him.
“Cause I can? Come on I’m getting tired. Feels like I’ve been standing here for ages.” He said. You guilty got into the car.
The car ride was silent when you guys got back. You and Heeseung both got out of his car, shutting it with slam. As you were gonna go to the door Heeseung suddenly grabbed your wrist. Your eyebrows furrowed as you look at him.
"I need your help," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "My dad owes me an apology, and I think you can help me get it."
You were taken aback. Was that why he was being nice to you? You didn’t know what to feel.
“Is that why you were nice to me today?” You mumbled, feeling somewhat offended.
Heeseung shook his head confused, “Of course not. I was being nice because of what you did yesterday. No one has ever done that before.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, Heeseung was more than his bad boy facade.
“Okay, I’ll help you.” You said. Heeseung gave you a sweet smile that made your feel some type of way. Nonetheless, you gave him a smile back.
Over the next few days, Heeseung's behavior changed. He started doing small, nice things for you—making you coffee in the morning, helping you with your chores, and even engaging in conversations about your interests.
You couldn’t help but notice how when he listened to you, he had a look in his eyes that made your heart race. How he listened to every last detail you’d tell about anything. How he makes comments about little things about you that you’ve never mentioned to him or anyone else. You felt like Heeseung was actually making a change towards you.
On the other hand, you gave out advice for him to follow to make his dad apologize, like suggesting he have an honest conversation about his feelings. Surprisingly, Heeseung took your advice to heart.
Finally, the day came when Heeseung confronted his dad about everything. It didn’t come as easy though.
“Heeseung, I want you to understand the importance of this family. I know we all don’t understand you the way your mom did, but I’m willing to make an effort to show you to see the good side of life.” Mr. Lee said. You noticed Heeseung was a lot calmer than the last time. While on your end, you were praying to god nothing breaks out into fits of anger.
“I know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how our family used to be. I miss how we we used to be.” Heeseung whispered the last part under his death.
You watched how Mr. Lee's face went from upset to sad. You felt bad that you couldn’t step in and comfort. The moment those two words fell out, Mr. Lee lips, for the first time you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in Heeseung's eyes. They hugged and departed from each other. Mr. Lee gave you a knowing nod with you smiling back.
Heeseung looked over at you and gave you a small smile. That was the first time he ever smiled at you. You gave a him a big smile back with a thumbs up. Just as you thought everything will finally get better, you soon found out how wrong you were.
Later that night, Heeseung, having achieved his goal, didn't stick around to celebrate with you. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed out to a party, leaving you standing alone in the house, feeling used and betrayed.
You sat on the couch, staring at the door he had just walked out of, wondering if any of the kindness he had shown you was real or just a means to an end. The realization stung, but it also made you stronger.
Instead of letting him leave like that, your only thought was to follow him. You knew where he was going after hearing a phone call with his friend about a party that was happening later today. You grabbed your moms keys and left the house. You knew the address since you also overheard when his friend was on speaker.
You had never been to a party before, and tonight, you decided to see for yourself what drew him away so often. The party was at a house a few blocks away, already throbbing with loud music and laughter. You hesitated at the doorway, but your determination pushed you inside.
The atmosphere was overwhelming, a stark contrast to your usual quiet evenings. You scanned the room for Heeseung, hoping to catch a glimpse of him amidst the chaos.
As you navigated through the crowd, you accidentally bumped into someone. You groaned and looked up. Your eyes widened when you saw it was one of Heeseung's friends, Park Sunghoon. He was tall, with a smug smile that made you instantly freeze, "Hey, aren't you that nerd that was with Heeseung that one day? What are you doing here?" he questioned.
You straightened your posture, trying to muster some confidence, "It's none of your business why I'm here," you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach.
Sunghoon let out a deep chuckle before leaning on the wall. You weren’t gonna lie and say he didn’t look attractive doing that, “Right. None of my business. So did you just come here to get a quick fuck?”
You gasped at his sentence, “W-What? No! I-I was here just because I can!” You stuttered. Sunghoon smug smile never left when he suddenly leaned towards you. Both of your face close to each other.
“You know, if you ever wanna have fun, you know where I’m at. Heeseung doesn’t need to know.” Sunghoon whispered. Even though the music was booming loudly, you could still hear him from how close he was to you. His breath smelling like alcohol and somewhat of a minty smell.
Just as you were about to walk away, Heeseung suddenly appeared beside him. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition. But then, his expression turned cold.
“What are you doing Sunghoon?" He coolly asked, acting like you aren’t there. Sunghoon backed away from you and gave Heeseung a pat.
“Nothing man. Just talking to this nerd. You know her right?” Sunghoon teased. He knew the answer, but to your confusion he still asked.
Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, "No idea who she is," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. The words hit you like a punch to the gut.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and hurt, you turned on your heel and pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to escape.
Thats when the tears stung your eyes as you made your way back to the apartment. The night air was cool against your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest.
You reached your car, fumbling with the keys. You finally managed to unlock the door and slid into the driver's seat, resting your head on the steering wheel. The sound of the passenger door opening startled you. You looked up, eyes widening as Heeseung climbed in beside you.
"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.
Heeseung leaned back in the seat, his expression unreadable, "Why were you at the party?" He asked, ignoring your question.
You looked away, not wanting to admit the truth, "I just wanted to see what it was like," You muttered.
Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You don't belong in places like that," He said firmly, "Why didn't you just stay home?"
You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over, "Because I wanted to see you," You blurted out before you could stop yourself, "I wanted to understand why you always leave. How parties can make your worries disappear! Why you always switch out on me.” You voice cracking at the end.
Heeseung's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek, "You don't always need to know everything about me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart raced as you melted into the kiss, feeling the barriers between your worlds begin to crumble. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.
You suddenly remembered about his girlfriend and pushed him away, “Heeseung your girlfriend-“
“I don’t wanna think about her right now.” He said. You gulped hard. You knew what you did was wrong, but seeing Heeseung so calm made you relax a bit.
He then looked at you again, “Let's go home," He said softly. You slowly nodded and started the car, exiting the driveway and leaving the loud house. The car ride was silent, with Heeseung staring out the window.
You averted your gaze to him from time to time, however not saying anything. When you guys finally got back you got out the car and headed to the door. You unlocked it, letting yourself in before Heeseung came in.
Just as you were about to say something Heeseung suddenly pinned you on the door, “Heeseung what are you-“
He cut you off and kissed you harshly. You let out a gasp when he nibbled on your bottom lip. He then entered his tongue in your mouth. You squirmed feeling his hot tongue swirling with yours. It all felt too hot. You moaned when he roughly gripped your hips.
The thought of his girlfriend completely washed away when he broke the kiss with both of your salivas connecting at your lips. He didn’t waste a second, grabbing your wrist and taking you to his room. Heeseung's eyes glinted with mischief as he led you to his room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle.
It was the second time going to his room, this time with him with you. The contrast between his tough exterior and the care he took in guiding you made your heart race. As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but notice how surprisingly neat his room was.
Your eyes wandered over the shelves lined with books, some of which you recognized from your own collection. A small, framed photo of a younger Heeseung with a genuine smile caught your eye, and you felt a pang of curiosity about the story behind it. The room was filled with little details that contradicted his bad boy image – a neatly made bed, a few potted plants, and a desk organized with precision.
Heeseung caught you staring and smirked, "Surprised?" He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. You nodded, unable to hide your amazement. "There's more to me than meets the eye," He said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it before.
You sat on his bed with him still standing in front of you. He then leaned down and pecked your lips before going on top of you as you lay on the sheets. He started trailing kisses along your neck. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him starting to suck on your neck.
Heeseung grinned at your sensitivity and playfully bit your neck, making you squeak. You wrapped your arms instinctively around his neck. You mewled when you felt him grind on your cloth core. Everything felt too unreal to you.
“Fuck. I can practically feel your wetness.” He groaned. He took his hand and rubbed against your leg like the last time, but this time he slowly crept towards you core.
“H-Hee.” You whimpered. Hearing you already making a nickname for him made him hard. You let out a relief sigh when he finally rubbed against your heat. The pressure of pleasure floating in your body.
Heeseung bit his lip, suppressing a groan when he finally felt your wet shorts.
“Hee please.” You groaned. Heeseung smirked and stared at your facial expression. Mouth agape, eyes rolled back, hair messy, Heeseung knew he was gonna be a goner.
“What do you want princess?” He whispered. His voice husky and filled with lust. You felt yourself already creating a pool with the way he sounded.
“I-It feels weird Hee! Please do something.” You weakly stated. Something inside lit up in Heeseung hearing you say that.
A virgin is probably his most favorite thing when it comes to sex. He didn’t waste any time taking off your shorts. He let out a breath when he saw the wet patch on your underwear and lowered his body down.
Before you could ask what he was doing you suddenly felt a wet sensation on your underwear, “Oh god Heeseung!” You let out a cry and arched your back. Heeseung hummed and licked up and down on your slit. The feeling of pleasure was too much for you.
He stopped and looked up at you, “I wanna see you begging.” He breathed out. He slid off your underwear effortlessly revealing your glistening pussy. You tried covering yourself up but Heeseungs wasn’t having none of that. He pulled your legs apart roughly making you whine. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The way his hard stare was on you.
“If I would’ve know your pussy looked this good I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He said. Your eyes went wide. Now your cheeks were definitely a crimson red. He lowered once again and didn’t give you a chance to say anything before he dipped his tongue inside.
You gripped the sheets at his sudden urgency and let out a loud moan. You didn’t know if your guys parents were home, but it was too late now. He licked your folds up and down, swirling his tongue around your bud. You gripped his locks and wrapped your leg around his head.
“Hee! Oh fuck!” You squealed. He cursed in your pussy and finally dipped his tongue in your hole. You couldn’t control any of your moans anymore. The sound of slurping and moaning bounced around his room.
You felt a weird pit in your stomach and thrashed around, “H-Hee I think I’m gonna- ah!” You moaned and jerked forward. Your orgasm coming quickly and hard. Your mouth went agape as you let out hard breaths feeling Heeseung lick everything up.
You squeezed his locks, feeling overstimulated. You tapped his head weakly, “H-Heeseung no more.” You rasped out. Heeseung finally stopped and licked his lips. Your cum on his chin, his eyes hazy and unfocused.
“How am I gonna fit?” He asked you. Your eyes widened. Shit, he really wanted to have sex with you. You started stammering random words while Heeseung stared at you. If he was gonna fuck you, you have to enjoy it too.
He cut off your rant by kissing you again. You immediately kissed him back, not feeling his fingers near your hole. You let out a scream when you felt his finger slowly enter you.
“Shh it’s okay. It’ll hurt for a quick second.” He muttered. You tried to get used to it, however the pressure was too much.
“H-Heeseung I can’t! It hurts!” You sniffled. Heeseung pampered you with kisses, trying to distract you. You looked so pretty when you cry.
“I know princess. It’ll feel good. I promise.” He reasoned. You panted hard when you suddenly felt your hole slowly getting used to it. Soon enough you were a moaning mess all over again.
“Another one. P-Please.” You dictated. Heeseung grinned and added his other finger. You let out a moan in pleasure feeling his long thick fingers stretching you out.
You felt another orgasm coming again, but Heeseung took his fingers out making you whine. He ignored you, his grin never coming off his face.
He took off his shirt revealing his body. You bit your lip seeing his toned body. You felt something poking you and looked down. There was his hard dick poking out of his pants. You whimpered when he moved it towards your pussy.
“You like what you see?” He teased. You slowly nodded, unsure what to say at that moment. He chuckled at your cuteness and kissed your temple.
You reached your hand unsure if you could touch him. He didn’t seem to mind and leaned in more. You rubbed his cloth dick slowly causing him to hiss. You felt a sudden confidence coming over you and stroked his dick faster. At this point you were practically jerking him off and he seemed to like it, or even loved it.
He pulled away suddenly making you furrow your eyebrows, “Is something wrong?” You mumbled, your brain in a haze.
“I don’t wanna cum like this.” He said. You blushed when he started unbuckling his pants and taking off his pants and boxers at the same time. Your mouth went dry seeing his dick for the first time. It was big.
Is that even gonna fit?
He groaned when he touched it and stroked it slowly. You watched him stroke his dick slowly, blushing and panting. He looked down at you, “Are you ready?”
You impatiently nodded, making him chuckle darkly. He lined his dick at your entrance before slowly pushing in. You felt the air knock out your lungs and gripped him tightly on his arms. He moaned at your tightness. Your whimpers and sniffles made him want to go right at it and fuck you hard.
“Fuck, can I move now princess?” He hissed. You shut your eyes and slowly nodded. He started at a slow pace, watching your every expression to make sure you're not hurting anywhere. Once he sees your face turning from pain to pleasure he picked up his pace faster.
The sound of hard skin slapping heard in his room. You felt dizzy with pleasure with the way he pounded in your pussy, “Oh fuck.” You whimpered.
“Feel good princess?” He asked. You frantically nodded your head. He sighed feeling you clench around him.
“M’gonna cum Heeseung.” You panted out. Heeseung hummed and buried his face in your neck, the feeling making you ticklish. You felt your orgasm coming and scratched onto his back. You bit Heeseung neck feeling your orgasm hitting you. Heeseung let out a pained moan and came after you.
You both panted unevenly and hard. Heeseung slowly pulled out and fell right next to you. You stared up at the ceiling rethinking everything. You had sex with Lee Heeseung, the schools bad boy. The one who made you feel like you were worthless.
Your thoughts were cut off when you felt a strong arm wrap around you. You looked up at Heeseung and saw him also in thought. The silence was somewhat comforting while also heavy. Heeseung nuzzled against the top of your head and sighed.
You slowly felt your eyes get heavy feeling his warmth accompanying you into slumber.
Heeseung looked down when he suddenly heard little snores coming out of you. He stared at your lips and leaned down, giving them a soft peck. Besides, it was gonna be the last time he would feel them.
You woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, feeling disoriented. As you slowly sat up, you realized you were in an unfamiliar bed. Panic surged through you until you recognized the room – Heeseung's room. The events of last night hit you like a truck, but you distinctly remembered the heated moment that had led you here.
Looking around, you noticed Heeseung was nowhere in sight. Your heart pounded as you spotted a neatly folded note on the pillow beside you. With trembling hands, you picked it up and read:
Had to head to school early. See you there. - Heeseung.
You sighed, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. Gathering your things, you quickly got ready and made your way to school, your mind racing with thoughts of what had transpired.
As you entered the school grounds, you spotted Heeseung almost immediately. He was leaning against a locker, surrounded by his usual group of friends, exuding his typical bad boy aura. His laughter echoed down the hallway, and you felt an inexplicable pang in your chest.
But what shocked you the most was the girl under his arms, giggling as she whispered something in his ear making him smile. You stood there watching the scene unfold. Your eyes met his for a fleeting moment. His expression shifted from amusement to something unreadable as he watched you.
Suddenly, the memories of last night came flooding back – the new side he shown you yesterday, the intimate moment you guys had together.
Feeling overwhelmed, you quickly looked away and walked past him, determined to ignore him. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you kept your head down, focusing on getting to your locker.
Throughout the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung's eyes on you. Every time you glanced his way, he was watching, a mix of amusement and something else in his eyes. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to acknowledge him, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.
During lunch, you found a quiet corner in the library to gather your thoughts. The events of last night played over and over in your mind. Heeseung had been so different – so real. But now, in the harsh light of day, it was easier to retreat behind your walls and pretend it hadn't happened.
As the final bell rang, you gathered your things and headed out, hoping to avoid any further encounters. But as you stepped outside, you saw Heeseung waiting by the gate, his expression serious.
"Nerd," he called out, his voice coming out more firm than usual, "We need to talk."
You hesitated, torn between your instinct to flee and the curiosity gnawing at you. Finally, you took a deep breath and walked over to him, bracing yourself for whatever came next.
“what do you wanna talk about?” You questioned, knowing full well what he wanted to talk about. He knew you weren’t stupid.
"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t and that you would do it again if you could. To tell him that you feel something for him that you’ve never felt with anyone else, but reality came to you that he still has a girlfriend, and that your parents are getting married soon, "Yes," You replied, your voice trembling, "I regret it."
Heeseung's face fell, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair, "I figured," He muttered, "I agree... I just needed to know from your point of you. No hard feelings?”
You nodded your head, holding your tears in, “Agreed.”
After that conversation, you made a conscious effort to avoid him. It wasn't easy, especially when you saw him with his girlfriend, laughing and holding hands. Each time, it felt like a knife to your heart, but you kept your distance, knowing it was for the best.
Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice the change in Heeseung. He seemed more distant, more withdrawn. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a quiet facade that you couldn't ignore. He stopped speaking to you for once, walking right past you whenever you’d see him anywhere in the house. He wouldn’t add sarcastic comments towards your way anymore. He still went to parties and hang outs as usual, but he was a lot more aggressive than usual when he came home drunk.
Days turned into weeks, and you tried your best to avoid him. You buried yourself in your studies, hoping the memory would fade. But every time you saw Heeseung with his girlfriend, a pang of guilt and regret twisted in your chest.
Or when you would hang out with your mom and Mr. Lee it reminded you exactly why you’re there. Because they were getting married. How would they react when they would’ve found out there kids fucked each other? You didn’t wanna know.
It was like any other day with you reading in the living room. You were almost done with a chapter when you suddenly heard a knock at the door. You didn't think much of it until you heard voices—familiar voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the door revealing Heeseung's girlfriend, Karina, and his friends Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay.
"Hey, can we come in?" Jake asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. You nodded, stepping aside to let them in.
You heard footsteps coming downstairs and was greeted by Heeseung, “Baby!” Karina smiled and went to hug Heeseung. He hugged her back just as tightly.
“Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming too.” Heeseung chuckled. Karina gave him a teasing smile in return.
“Well I haven’t seen you since yesterday so I decided to come over!” She chimed. Heeseung seemed to be ignoring you completely, his attention focused on his girlfriend.
You were cut off with your thoughts when Heeseungs friends all greeted you with a mix of politeness and indifference, but Sunghoon gave you a knowing smirk.
They made their way upstairs, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Heeseung didn't even glance your way, and you felt a pang of something—was it disappointment? You shook it off, returning to the living room with your book.
A little while later, there was a knock on the wall. You looked up to see Sunghoon standing there, leaning casually against the wall like he did the last time at the party.
"Hey," He said, his voice smooth and friendly, "Got a minute?"
You didn’t like where this was going. You nodded, putting down your book, “What's up?"
"There's this party later tonight," Sunghoon began, stepping closer to the couch you were sitting at. "It's gonna be pretty cool. I was wondering if you'd like to come with us."
You blinked, taken aback. A party? You remembered the last time and gulped. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
"I don't know," you said finally, "Parties aren't really my thing, especially from last time.”
Sunghoon smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Come on, it'll be fun. You might even enjoy yourself."
You bit your lip, still uncertain, "I'll think about it.”
"Fair enough," Sunghoon said, giving you a nod, "Just let me know."
He left, and you were alone with your thoughts. A party? With Heeseung and his friends? It seemed like a bad idea, but a part of you was curious. What would it be like to step out of your comfort zone again, even just for one more night?
As the hours passed, you found yourself thinking more and more about Sunghoon's invitation. Finally, you made up your mind.
You rifled through your closet, looking for something to wear. You settled on an outfit that was a little out of the ordinary for you—something that made you feel confident and a bit daring.
When you were ready, you took a deep breath and headed downstairs. it seemed as if Sunghoon was waiting for you, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration when he saw you.
"Wow," He said, a grin spreading across his face, "You look amazing."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks."
He offered you his arm, and you took it, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked out the door, you didn’t notice a certain someone watching the scene unfold in front him.
You decided to drive with Sunghoon since he insisted and made your way to the party.
The night was electric with the buzz of excitement as you stepped into the party, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. You adjusted your glasses and smoothed down your dress, feeling slightly out of place among the throngs of people. Sunghoon was by your side, his easy smile putting you at ease.
"Come on, let's dance," He said, taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor. The music was loud, the bass thumping through your body as you moved to the rhythm. Sunghoon's presence was comforting, his laughter infectious as he twirled you around.
As you danced, you couldn't help but notice Heeseung across the room. He was leaning against the wall, his arm draped around Karina’s shoulder. His eyes, however, were fixed on you and Sunghoon. There was a dark intensity in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the fun you were having with Sunghoon.
But the more you danced, the more you felt Heeseung's eyes on you. It was unsettling, and you found yourself glancing his way more often than you intended. Karina seemed oblivious, chatting animatedly with her friends, but Heeseung's attention never wavered.
"Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon asked, noticing your distraction.
"Yeah, I'm fine," You lied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just a bit hot in here."
"Let's get some air," He suggested, leading you outside to the patio. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
Sunghoon leaned against the railing, looking at you with concern, "You sure you're okay?"
You nodded, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't stop thinking about Heeseung. The way he looked at you, the way he seemed to be watching your every move. It was driving you crazy.
Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning in and kissing Sunghoon. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, a desperate attempt to get Heeseung out of your mind. Sunghoon was surprised but didn't pull away, his lips soft and warm against yours.
But the kiss didn't have the desired effect. Instead of forgetting about Heeseung, you felt his gaze burning into you even more intensely. You pulled away from Sunghoon, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion.
"Sorry," you mumbled, not sure what else to say.
Sunghoon looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, "It's okay. Are you sure you're alright?"
Before you could answer, you felt a strong hand grab your arm. You turned to see Heeseung, his expression dark and angry, “We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you away from Sunghoon and into the house. You stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your chest. He led you upstairs to a quiet room, closing the door behind him.
"What the hell was that?" He demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," He said, stepping closer, “You and Sunghoon."
You looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, "It's none of your business."
Heeseung grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "It is my business," he said, his voice low and dangerous, “You think you can just kiss him and I'll be okay with it?"
You felt a surge of defiance. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend."
Heeseung's grip tightened, his eyes flashing with anger, “You think I care about her? The only reason I'm with her is because I can't have you."
His words took you by surprise, and you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite identify, "Then why didn't you ever say anything?"
Heeseung let go of your chin, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "Because I'm an idiot. All these fucking feelings I’ve been feeling pisses me off. Were too different for each other. Which is why I also thought you'd never be interested in someone like me."
You took a step back, trying to process everything, "And now?"
Heeseung looked at you, his expression softening, "Now I can't stand the thought of you with someone else."
You felt your resolve melting, the anger and confusion giving way to something else. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Fuck it. "Then show me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung didn't need any more encouragement. He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate intensity. You melted into the kiss, all the pent-up emotions finally finding release.
You moaned into the kiss, letting his tongue entering your mouth. You didn’t know how much you missed this when he finally lay you on the bed. He didn’t waste time stripping off his clothes, still leaving you cloth. Before he could take your clothes off you stop him, “Wait a minute.”
Heeseung frowned. Did you wanted to stop already? He didn’t have time to think before you suddenly got up and kneel down. Oh shit. Heeseung stared at you in shock.
“Are you, doing what I think you’re doing?” He said, unsure if you were actually gonna do it. You nodded and bit your lip. His hard dick leaking precum. You slowly grabbed it and stroked it slow. Heeseung threw his head back feeling you squeeze around the tip and went faster.
“Shit! Wait.” He muttered. You ignored him and put the just the tip in your mouth. You hummed finally being able to taste him. Heeseung let out a drawn moan feeling your hot wet tongue.
He grabbed your head and gently pushed your head deeper down. You obliged obediently and went back and forth. You felt his dick tense slightly, letting it rest on your tongue.
“Ah hell. Why are you so good at this?” He questioned. You took his dick out your mouth and stroked it.
“Google.” You simply said. Heeseung couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. You smiled and went back to sucking his dick. He soon felt his climax coming and made you deep throat him.
You gagged a little but recomposed yourself and let him use you. You moaned when you felt his hot spurts of cum going down your throat. You made sure you swallowed every last drop before letting go with a pop.
You got back up and kissed him. He sighed into the kiss and pushed you back on the bed. He helped you take off your clothes and kissed along your chest. You whimpered when you felt him suck on one of your breast while fondling with the other.
You grabbed his hand and lead it down to your wet pussy, he rubbed it in circular motion.
“Please Heeseung put it in now. I can’t wait.” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and slowly lined his dick at your entrance. He rubbed his dick alongside your folds making you mewl.
He finally entered inside you making you both moan in unison. He didn’t wait a second to let you get used to his size and went full speed. You moaned uncontrollably, not being able to hold back. Heeseung kissed you to make you a bit quiet.
“You’re so tight princess. Fuck, gonna breed this pussy dry.” He moaned. You nodded your head, long gone to even cooperate what he was saying. He grabbed both your legs and pushed them against you shoulders, having better access to fuck your hole.
You let out a cry when he hit your spot and arched your back. Heeseung smirked, not stopping his brutal pace on you. You felt your orgasm coming and bit your finger to stop yourself from being loud. Your orgasm came out long and drawn while Heeseung watched you unfold.
He gave out a few more thrust before cumming deep inside you. You let out pants and watched Heeseung take out his dick. He got up from the bed to the restroom and came back with a wash cloth.
He wiped the both of you off and helped you get dress. As you guys finished you finally looked at him.
“Heeseung, what are we?” You finally asked. Heeseung stared at you before giving you a small smile.
“Whatever you want us to be.” He replied. You bit your lip uncertain. He still had a girlfriend.
“Your girlfriend. What about her-“
“I broke up with her. Right when I saw you and Sunghoon leave to the balcony I knew you were the one.” He admitted. You felt your heart swell up and smiled.
“Then I want us to be together then Hee.” You whispered. Heeseung nodded and cupped your face.
“Whatever you want princess.” He said before giving you a peck. You then went back downstairs to the party and walked towards the exit. Before you left you saw Sunghoon talking to one of his friends.
You both made brief eye contact, but what surprise you was when Sunghoon gave you a smile and wink. You quickly felt yourself smiling back at him and waving bye.
You went inside Heeseungs car and buckled your seatbelt. Heeseung started the car while having his other hand on yours. You didn’t know what you guys were gonna do when you get home, but you knew you will sort things out tomorrow.
For now, you’ll enjoy this moment with his comfort surrounding you. And the love that was finally growing that you guys held out for so long.
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the-boy-meets-evil · 11 months ago
Text
all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)
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(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)
pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare
a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism
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The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind. 
This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around. 
Not this year. 
This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it. 
So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.
From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same. 
The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year. 
Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy. 
Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft. 
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks. 
You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.” 
“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.
“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.
“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown. 
“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?” 
“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”
“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.
“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist. 
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You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.
That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately. 
Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine. 
You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere. 
“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.
“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects. 
“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.
“I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists. 
“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen. 
Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.
“Where are you going?” Jun asks. 
“Oh, just back to my room to get something,” 
It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.
When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.
His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.” 
“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.
“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.
“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.
“Not alone,” he persists. 
“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder. 
“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.
“So, what?” you press.
“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.
“How should I be?” you ask. 
“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.
“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 
“I know,” he admits.
“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.” 
“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”
“This was a mistake,” you say.
“Talking to me?” he asks.
“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.” 
With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone. 
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You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be. 
“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.
“I’ll come,” you offer. 
“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.
“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”
“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.
“Sure,” you agree. 
When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.
“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.
“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.
One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge. 
“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks. 
“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.
“No,” Wonwoo answers simply. 
“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”
“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.” 
“Thanks,” you say as you pay.
“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.
You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”
“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks. 
“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.
“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises. 
“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.
“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”
“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.” 
“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.
“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.
“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.
“Because it still hurts,” you plead. 
“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.
Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.
It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker. 
It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on. 
Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.
“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.” 
“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.
“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”
“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused. 
“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says. 
“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”
“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”
“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you. 
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Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?
“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.
“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.
“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.
“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t. 
“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.
“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”
“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly. 
“I wasn’t going to say that.” 
“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.” 
Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.
“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share. 
“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.” 
“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks.  Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?
“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?” 
“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.” 
“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.
“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.
Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.” 
“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.” 
“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.
“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.
“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.
“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?” 
Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.” 
Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?
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New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.
When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.
It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area. 
“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.
“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.
“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.” 
“Oh,” is all he says.
“Oh?” you repeat.
“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.
“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.
“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.
“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.
“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.” 
“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing. 
“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.
“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says. 
“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”
“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.
“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation. 
“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.
“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.
“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”
“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.
“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”
“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.
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After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.
The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)
Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.
“Here,” he says.
You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”
“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.
“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.
The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 
Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time. 
Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins. 
There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well. 
When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.
“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.
“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response. 
When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.
Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside. 
“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him. 
“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.
“I was a little surprised,” he admits.
“Me too,” you agree. 
He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.
Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left. 
“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.
“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.
“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.
“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?” 
“We probably should talk,” you say.
“You’re right,” he sighs.
Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away. 
You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.” 
Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him. 
It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right. 
“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin. 
You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.
“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him. 
His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss. 
“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine. 
He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.” 
You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.” 
There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”
You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.” 
“Good,” he says. 
You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture. 
“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg. 
“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.
In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans. 
“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.
“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.
“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”
He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?” 
You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.
It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive. 
Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.” 
It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.
“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath. 
“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out. 
For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 
By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)
“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.
“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.” 
“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest. 
You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body. 
It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down. 
“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment. 
“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.
It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little 
“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters. 
He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him. 
“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.” 
“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say. 
That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”
“No,” you answer.
“I haven’t either,” he admits.
“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him. 
“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.
“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.
“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.
“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.
This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.
He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. 
You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment. 
“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out. 
“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.
And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream. 
You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans. 
“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”
“Jesus,” he groans. 
Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him. 
“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out. 
“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers. 
His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care. 
It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty. 
“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question. 
It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.
“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says. 
“We’re already here,” you point out. 
“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back. 
“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder. 
He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.” 
Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded. 
“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says. 
So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. 
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Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.
“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up. 
“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles. 
“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says. 
“And?” you prompt. 
He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”
“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke. 
You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”
It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”
“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him. 
“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”
“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe. 
“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says. 
“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say. 
“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you. 
“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say. 
His face lights up. “Really?”
“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”
He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”
“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke. 
“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos. 
“Me too,” you agree. 
It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace. 
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this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕
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nebulaafterdark · 4 months ago
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The Succession (Part 2)
Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Part 1
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Y/N wakes to a knock at the door. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sits upright. Aegon is still there, unmoving beside her. “Come.”
“Good morrow, your grace.” Her lady in waiting, Chérie, bows her head upon entry; a powder blue gown draped over one arm. “You must break your fast.”
“What ungodly hour is it?” The Queen grumbles, stretching both arms above her head.
“Nearly midday, my Queen.”
Y/N nods, taking her hand. “I need a favor of you.”
“A bath?” Chérie smirks.
Y/N stares down at herself, nightgown stained with blood and gods know what else. She huffs a laugh, “that as well.”
“I will ready the tub.”
“Chérie?”
“Are you seeking comfort, your grace?” She has lost her grandmother and her husband’s good health, “I could tend you.”
“No.” Y/N stares down at her hands.
“Forgive me for assuming.” She takes a step back, “I only want to help.”
Y/N moves forward, closing the space between them. “It was kind of you, Chérie. I appreciate your devotion, more than you know. There is something different I need of you.”
“Name it.”
“You know things…I must know them.”
“What is it you need know?” Chérie wonders.
“The truth of what happened at Rook’s Rest. I do not pretend to understand Aegon’s motivations. Gods willing, I may be able to ask him one day. But for now, I need know what befell him. Cole dances around it, the Hightowers will never be truthful with me.”
“Is there anything you do know? A talking point that might be of use as I consult the servants?” Chérie wonders.
Y/N leans in. “Helaena and Aemond stood at the foot of his bed last night. She asked if it was worth the price. Aemond denied any knowledge of what she meant. Still, Helaena does not speak to cause upset, she speaks when she has something to say. If he’s done this…the whole of our line may be in danger.”
Chérie sighs, “somedays I am glad to’ve been born a commoner.”
“For that I do not fault you.” Y/N forces a smile.
Chérie steals a glance at the king. “Will he live?”
“We’ve no way of knowing. I pray to the gods for his recovery, but it is a long road. He will never be as he was, so long as he lives, it matters naught to me.”
————————————————————————
“There’s been word from King’s Landing.”
Rhaenyra’s head snaps up.
“Aegon has fallen, the stranger looms over his head. With Vhagar weakened in the attack, now is the time to act.”
“And what of my daughter?” The Queen ticks a finger against the table. “Has she been spotted since Aegon’s coronation?”
“We believe the princess lives, your grace. But upon second hand testimony, smallfolk in the streets, we cannot say for certain.”
“What was she doing?” Rhaenyra wonders, “my girl, when they saw her in the streets?”
The lords look to each other, “she marched beside the carriage with Aegon’s body.”
“That is proof enough. I must send word to her, she cannot think we have turned our backs on her. With Aegon gone, she may very well be Aemond’s next attempt.” Rhaenyra is sick over it.
“You must trust, as we have, that Aegon will care for her.”
“He cannot care for her, upon his deathbed. Should he pass, we leave her to whom? Aemond and Alicent? She will be put to the sword.” Rhaenyra shakes her head.
“Meleys was our largest dragon, your grace.” Ser Alfred reminds her.
“Which is why I must go.”
“You cannot, my Queen. You are the crown.”
“I will go.” Jacaerys fists the hilt of his sword.
“No,” Rhaenyra scoffs. “It is out of the question. You will be taken or slain.”
“Would you rather my sister or me?” Jace squares his shoulders. “Those are your choices.”
————————————————————————-
Y/N forces her meal down, spending the evening in her children’s rooms.
“Mama,” Visera calls to her, “I’ve made something for father.”
“I helped!” Dahlia chimes in. “Laenor wanted to, but he rubbed his hands all over it. The painting was nearly ruined.”
“Say it isn’t so, my loves.” Y/N lifts her eldest son onto her hip. “Shall I kiss his head off?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Y/N smiles, peppering Laenor’s sweet face with kisses as he squeals, thrashing wildly in her hold.
Dahlia and Visera giggle, entertained for the moment.
“And you, my prince, best have learned your lesson.” Y/N says, releasing her son onto the floor.
He scampers away, still screeching with glee.
“Mother?” Dahlia tugs at her mother’s skirts.
“Yes, my darling?”
“When will we see father?”
Y/N sighs, “come, sit with me.” She pats the cushions on either side of her.
Her daughters look to each other, then join her on the settee.
“Do you remember what Papa told you about sickness? How it is a war we wage alone, within our bodies?”
“Is he ill?”
“Not exactly,” Y/N explains, “nevertheless, his body is at war now. Battling to repair itself from great wounds, some we cannot see. Every hour, he is fighting his way back to us. But he must remain abed for now, in a state of sleep.”
“May we watch him sleep?” Visera wonders.
“I fear you might be saddened by it.”
“Why, Mama?”
“He looks a bit different, on the outside. But on the inside he is the same.” Y/N says, fighting for composure, “we mustn’t touch him, lest we cause more pain. And it is hard to keep our distance, when all we truly want is to wrap him in an embrace.”
“Mayhaps when we see him, we might hold each other instead.”
Y/N looks to her eldest daughter. “On the morrow, after his bandages are changed, I will bring you. And if it is too much for you, there is no shame in saying so. We love him dearly and he knows it.”
“That is what matters, I think.” Visera says, “if I were waging war, I would want to know someone loved me.”
————————————————————————
Y/N sneaks down to the kitchens for a bit of cake, heading to Aegon’s apartments to eat it. The doors open onto Aemond, leaning over Aegon’s body.
“What are you doing?” She has no weapon, if she’s to kill him now, it will be with her bare hands or a serving spoon.
Aemond turns to her, with sly smile. “My brother was asking for you. He woke in pain, I was merely supplying him with milk of the poppy.”
Y/N forces her mouth to turn upward, “very kind of you, I thank you for looking in on him.”
Aemond nods, setting the empty cup on the bedside table. “Of course.”
“When he asked for me, what did he say?” She wonders, lying her plate of cake beside it.
“Only your name.”
Y/N nods.
“You have been a good and faithful wife to him. Aegon is blessed to have you.”
“Aemond,” Y/N breathes, “might I ask you something?”
His eye flickers about her, “of course, sweet niece.”
“What do you think was his undoing?” She motions to Aegon, “if you had to say?”
“Vanity…pride.”
“It would be suited,” Y/N forces the awful words past her lips, “for someone to take that from him.”
“You should not say such things, my Queen. The thought alone is truly depraved.”
“Of course, forgive me.”
“What befell my brother is nothing short of a tragedy.” Aemond purrs, “you must keep your wits about you.”
“Were they locked in battle?” Y/N asks, “when my grandmother gave Meleys the order?”
Aemond purses his lips, “when dragons fly to war, it is men who burn. Aegon is not the first, he will not be the last. You should be grateful he returned to you.”
“I have lost a brother to war.” Y/N says, as if he needs reminding. “I know its cruelty.”
“A shame, indeed.” Aemond hums.
“I hope it was worth the price.”
“Y/N.” Alicent calls, “Aemond, what are you doing here?”
The prince looks to his mother, “I was merely checking in on our king.”
“You are kind to do so,” Alicent swallows, “as his wife is now here, you are relieved of said duty. Unless you wish the three of us to hold vigil.”
“Perhaps another time, mother.” Aemond nods, “I’ve more pressing matters to attend.” He brushes past them, closing the door to Aegon’s bedchamber behind him.
“What were you thinking?” Alicent demands, in a hushed whisper. “My son pleads for your life and you stand here tempting the very man who-”
“The very man who what?” Y/N dares her to say it. “Killed my brother? Or are you referring to some other atrocity I am not privy to?”
“Your children are in danger, my grandchildren, let me help you.” Alicent reaches for her.
Y/N bats her hand away, “don’t you touch me! My children are in danger because of you.”
“You know what Aemond is.” Kinslayer. Alicent swallows, hard. “My only concern is keeping you safe. What is to stop him from taking out the whole of Aegon’s line to make room for his own? The smallfolk riot in the streets, demanding we open the gates. Even they wish to flee, it is all going to ruin. They need to see you.”
“They will see me as you parade my body through the streets after my murder, not a moment before. I will not betray my mother or her claim.”
“I am not asking you to stand against Rhaenyra, I am asking you to stand for my son. Before it is too late. You owe him this. You forced him onto that saddle as much as I forced him upon the throne.”
“I?” Y/N snaps, “I am the one you blame for this? You think I would have my husband reduced to ash over a fucking chair?”
Alicent presses her lips together, “all Aegon has done is in your name. He rose and he fell for you alone.”
“I wanted this to be peaceful, you know. I truly did and my mother did, then again and again I was taken for a fool.”
“Aegon loves you. He went to meet Rhaenys for you, in hopes of creating new terms with your mother. Mayhaps others have used you, like a pawn to carry out their own agenda, but not Aegon. He never plotted, he never wavered, even in his condition, you are the agenda.”
“And I love him for it, but please know I did not ask him to meet with her. I would have gone myself rather than risk his life. That is why I have not fled, or stole away with my children to Dragonstone. Aegon is equally important to me.”
“You must ready yourself then, in the color of our house.”
“No,” Y/N narrows her eyes, “this is for my husband, who hangs precariously in the balance of life and death. I will attend this procession in the color of mourning, not Hightower green.”
————————————————————————
In the absence of Daemon, Rhaenyra turns to Mysaria for counsel. “You know the ins and outs of King’s Landing better than any. I need an in.”
“Criston Cole made a mistake, parading a dragon’s head through the streets, like a prize of war. The people see an ill omen.” Mysaria tells her.
“Yes, as do I.”
“They are afraid, bread is scarce. The king has fallen, they whisper to each other that when Viserys lived there was peace.” They question the succession.
“But will whispers tear down stone? Break shields?” Save my daughter?
“Do not underestimate them, to the discontented, rumors are feed.” Mysaria continues. “What you cannot do, let others to do for you. There is more than one way to fight a war.”
Part 3
Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean
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neil-gaiman · 5 months ago
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Hi Mr Gaiman, I hope you’re doing well
I don’t think you’ll see this but I still wanted to give it a shot, I just wanted to ask you a quick something since your posts are always encouraging and brighten up my day a bit. Would you have any advice or perhaps a word of encouragement for a kind of sad and crying eighteen years old who just got a health diagnosis that snatched away all the dreams he had since he was toddler and all of his plan of career that were one of the only thing that made him keep going…? I just… don’t know what to do anymore and thought it might help to have a word of encouragement or anything…
Sorry for the bother, I hope your day will go well !
The least helpful thing I can tell you right now is the true thing, which is that in my life all of the things that happened where I thought my life was over and my life had fallen apart, turned out to be things that allowed much better more interesting and brighter futures to enter my life way down the line.
What will turn out to have been good or bad is often something you will only find out in retrospect. For now, don't think of it as a disaster but as a new path in the road to follow.
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Breakfast Time
My son’s stuck in a time loop again.
He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.
I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.
The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.
The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”
“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:
How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?
As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.
Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.
What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?
They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.
Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.
Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?
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bookshelf-dust · 26 days ago
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gentle fingers, gentler boy
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carmen berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader
gif by @hotch-girl
word count: 3,589
warnings: swearing, joking mentions of arson, one donna mention, i don’t think anything else??
synopsis: carmy needs a haircut—desperately. or so natalie tells him. she sends him to you, and it’s safe to say carmy never would’ve expected a trim would turn into the best date he’s ever had in his life.
a/n: hello, my loves! don’t even ask my why this fic has taken me so long to write because i couldn’t tell you. but i do imagine it has something to do with the fact that i have the attention span of a goldfish these days. anyhow, i wrote this as a kind of predecessor to this fic, because something about carmy and his hairdresser gf is so special to me. let me know what you think!! happy reading <33
————
“You really do need a haircut, Bear.”
Sugar leans up against the office door frame. Her younger brother is hunched over the desk, an Igor incarnate, flipping through a pile of papers Cicero left for him. 
Richie’s voice booms throughout the kitchen. “I been tellin’ him that, Sug! It needs a wash, too. He’s startin’ to look like Jack…Jack…” He snaps his fingers, searching for a name. “The psycho asshole from The Shining!”
“Jack Torrence,” Marcus chirps.
“Jack Torrence!” Richie claps, making Sugar roll her eyes. She moves closer to Carmen, leaning against the corner of the desk. She crosses her arms. 
“I told you, Carm, you can go see my girl. She’s never done me wrong.” 
That small, gentle smile she has grows on her lips. Natalie gently pushes her brother’s shoulder. “And hey, she stopped me from getting bangs again a few weeks ago.”
Richie’s hands fly upward, pressing together in a prayer pose. “Thank fuck. Bangs were never your look, babe.”
“Shut up, Richie!” Sugar and Carmen’s voices ring out simultaneously, as if they’d rehearsed for this very moment of synchronization.
Carmy’s clogs drag against the tile floor as he braces his palms against the desktop and pushes himself backwards. He scrubs his face with his hands, leaving it tinged red when he finally relents.
He looks up at his sister, a firm wrinkle formed between her brows. Carmen huffs.
“What did you say her name was?” Carmy asks, eyes darting to the clock, searching for the time only to realize no one ever fixed the damn thing. “Hey, Richie! Can you get some fuckin’ batteries in here?”
Sugar’s eyes squeeze shut at the volume Carm’s voice has just reached. But nevertheless, she pinches her nose and says your name. 
“She’s like, fifteen minutes down the road. She went to school for it, she respects shy people, and I promise–she’s not gonna cut your ear off.”
Richie rounds the corner at that exact moment, a pile of double A’s shoved in his pocket. He pulls the analog clock off the wall and pries open the back panel. “Oh, you mean like that time Mikey snipped the tip of his ear clean–”
“Oh my god, enough, Richard!” Sugar’s hands fly around in front of her face. Unfortunately it only encourages Richie further, laughing to himself as he snaps four batteries into place. He’s still laughing—clapping his hands together because he’s so tickled—when he walks back toward the front of the house. 
Carmen’s fist covers his mouth. He’s tempted to laugh himself, but he at least knows better by now. Natalie sighs loud enough for the people across the street to hear. 
“Look, Carm. I’ll even make the appointment for you if that would help, but it’s gotta happen. You look like shit.”
Carmy snorts, standing up from the wonky office chair. “Thanks, Nat.”
Sugar’s phone is already in her hand. 
“So that’s a yes? What time would be best? Actually, I’ll just tell you when you’re going. Settled.”
————
“You getting off, Leigh?”
Your coworker ties her hair up in an artfully messy bun. “Yeah, babe. I took a half day because it’s date night tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, shimmying her way across the floor so she can plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Your mom got the kids?” You ask, laughing to yourself as you rinse the leftover conditioner from your sink. 
Leigh claps her hands. “All weekend, girl!” 
You toss your gloves in the trash, letting her hug you and bounce up and down in glee. She deserves this. She hasn’t gotten a night out with her husband in months, their three-year-old twins keeping them more than occupied.
“I hope you have fun tonight. Drink something with Irish cream in it for me, will you?” 
Leigh’s hands pat your cheeks gently. “Oh, you know I will. Just wish you were getting out there too.”
You wave her away, and she’s quick to hold up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Is Natalie’s brother still coming in today?”
Your eyes dart to the clock over her head. “Should be here in like, five minutes.”
The doorbell chimes. 
Both yours and Leigh’s heads snap in that direction. 
“Or…now.”
“Oh, fucking Christ.”
Your eyes flick back to each other immediately, having spoken at the exact same time. Leigh is not gonna let your outburst go. 
There’s already a devilish grin growing across her face. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”
You dart around her. “No. Those words never left my mouth.”
She catches you by the belt loop. “You’re right, I believe your exact words were ‘Oh fucking Christ, he could bend me over right here.’” Leigh’s laughter bubbles up and you fear she might keel over. 
“That is an exaggeration,” you huff. 
Leigh slings her worn out, bright red purse over her shoulder. “Bet you were thinking it though.” She risks a glance over her shoulder. “You’re not wrong though. His arms are huge. And you better go help him before we get a bad Yelp review.”
You start to wave her away. “Yeah, alright.” You follow her towards the front desk. “Have fun tonight,” you shout, “and remember to make sure you have meds for tomorrow’s hangover.”
She fake gasps, pausing just beside where Carmen is standing. “Me? Hungover? Never.” Leigh lowers her sunglasses just slightly and directs her next few words at the man in front of her. “She’ll take real good care of you, youngest Berzatto.”
The doorbell chimes as Leigh makes her way out to her beat up Mustang, leaving you and Carmy alone out front. 
He laughs awkwardly, shuffling towards the front counter to meet you.
“Sorry about her,” you say. “She’s full of it. Anyway, Carmen, right? Natalie told me you’d try and come by today.”
Carmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment from being put on the spot. But also because you’re so…pretty. He manages to pull together a few coherent words. 
“She really said try?” he asks, the barest of smiles gracing his lips.
You cross your arms and walk over to your station. “No. It was more of ‘He’ll be there at 4:30 tomorrow or else I’m going to burn down The Bear and keep the insurance money for myself.’”
Carmen scratches at his curls. “Yeah, that I believe.”
You gently pat the back of your leather chair. “You can sit whenever you’re ready. I realize I never really introduced myself.” You say your name, and even if it’s a name Carm has heard a hundred times before, it somehow sounds hypnotizing falling off your lips. 
The leather backing is cold through Carmy’s t-shirt. He hopes the shiver that moves down his spine when you thread your fingers through his hair passes off as the coinciding goosebumps. 
“So, what are we thinking today, Carmen?”
His big blue eyes blink at you through the mirror. “Carmy,” he says.
“Hm?” you hum, running a wide-toothed comb carefully through his curls so that nothing snags. 
“You don’t have to call me Carmen. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” A low laugh tumbles over his lips. “Carmy is fine.”
You smile at him. “Okay, Carmy. What would you like me to do with your hair today? Buzz cut? Mohawk?” You walk around to face him head on. “Extensions?”
You notice how nervously he plays with his hands. But you get it. You’re hoping to make him as comfortable as you can, and not just for that good Google review.
Carmy runs a hand over his mouth, hiding the sweet smile that’s growing there. The crinkles by his eyes give it away. You’re so fucking charming he can’t stand it. 
He clears his throat. “I was thinking just a trim? It’s kinda long over my eyes, and sometimes it’s good to see things.” You giggle. 
Good god, how’s he gonna get through this?
“Maybe a little shorter on the sides, too.”
“Like a mullet?” You quip.
He snorts. “Nah, not a full mullet. Maybe where it’s barely noticeable that it’s shorter there? I’m also shit at taking care of it, so if you could help with that…”
You take your bottom lip between your teeth. Carmy has to clear his throat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “How ‘bout this. I’ll take you to the sink and give it a wash, and then we’ll trim it, and I can have you help me style it so it’s easier when you’re at home?”
Carmy nods. “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” 
Your hand slides across the back of his shoulders as you move away and towards the back room full of head-sized basins. “Come on then, Mr. Berzatto. Let’s wash that pretty head of yours.”
————
“That feels so good,” Carmen says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a moment to think them over. “Wait—is that a weird thing to say?”
You laugh from your place behind him. “No, not at all. That’s why I keep my nails a little longer, because my clients always tell me this is the best part.” Your hands are covered in a lavender-scented shampoo, your fingertips massaging the foam into his scalp. “A good head scratch does wonders for the soul.”
You watch Carmy’s lips lift at the corners. His eyes are closed, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dozed off. You’re always happy to keep a conversation going with clients, but the silence is just as well.
The sounds of foils getting folded in place by your coworker out front, the air conditioner, the radio—it’s all oddly soothing. The radio station Leigh always sets it on has the oddest selection of music choices for one given channel. Not that you mind that either. 
You rinse Carmen’s hair out and apply conditioner to the mids and ends of his curls. You blindly grab a comb, muscle memory putting it in your grasp in seconds.
Carmy swears he’s gonna knock out. He’s trying about as hard as he did in school when he knew he should be paying attention to whatever math lesson but couldn’t keep his eyes open. And when your words reach his ears, he thinks you’ve just read his mind. Sensed the sleep pricking at his eyelids. 
“You do have really nice hair, Carmy. Anyone else in your family have curls?”
You watch the way his brows knit together. “I think my mom? You’d never know it though. She’s straightened it every day since I was a teenager, like even when we weren’t leaving the house.”
You focus on your final rinse of his hair, allowing him to continue. “When I was a kid though, if she showered before bed and I needed her, her hair would be all wet and curly. That’s the only time I saw it like that.”
Carmy sits up when you wrap a thin towel around his head, holding it secure as he follows you back to your station. 
“Leigh, the woman leaving when you came in? She has lots of clients like that. A lot of people weren’t taught how to take care of their curly hair.”
“Is that a hint?” Carmen quips. It makes you snort. 
“Just a gentle one.”
Carmy watches while you cut his hair. Every once in a while your tongue will poke out, or you’ll wiggle your hips to a song on the radio. When you’re almost finished, what Carmen thinks is a Madonna song comes on. 
You start humming, and Carmy knows he’s done for. Richie would call him whipped. He probably will tomorrow morning, just by reading Carm’s face. 
“Out of the sky, I close my eyes…heaven help me.”
Carmy lets out a little laugh because you’re doing this little dance as you sift through his curls. You hear it, and it only encourages you more. 
“Big Madonna fan?” he asks, his hand rubbing over his mouth to hide the boyish grin there. The tattoo on his hand catches your eye. 
“She’s good for the soul.”
You crouch in front of him, rummaging through a cabinet for he doesn’t know what. “Your tattoos are pretty, by the way,” you say. It takes him by surprise. 
“Oh. Thanks.”
You emerge with two bottles. “Do people not usually compliment them?” You spray his hair down with cool water, getting it to the stage of damp you need for the products to work. 
Carmy laughs lowly. Maybe with a little hint of embarrassment. “Nah, they usually ask me what the hell they are or if I was drunk when I got ‘em.”
“Were you?”
He meets your playful gaze. “Only for a few.” Your smile is downright gleeful. 
“M’kay, Carm. Let me give you the rundown.” He straightens and you get a glimpse of the chef he left at The Bear to visit you today. “So this is a leave-in conditioner. After you shower, you put just a little of this in your hands—like this—and kinda run it through your hair all over. Just so it’s in there well.”
You demonstrate, and for the first time, Carmy finally understands how people can look at him and question his ability to cook so seamlessly. That’s the way you do hair. Like it’s as easy as breathing for you. 
“And this is a gel. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t feel gross or anything, and it’s not expensive either. You wanna use a little more of this, but not by much. You can do the same sort of thing, because your hair takes shape really easily since it’s not damaged any. And once that’s distributed, I want you to scrunch it some, just to get any excess product, but also to help any curls that need encouragement.”
You bite your lip because Carmy is nodding along, giving you his complete attention and it’s fucking adorable. 
“And if there’s any curls by your face or anything, you can use your fingers to define them so they look how you want. You think you can do all that?”
Carmy laughs. “Not a chance.” Then you’re both laughing, and it feels so comfortable anyone would think you’d known each other for years. 
“It takes practice. I’m gonna give you these to take home and use.” Your hand disappears in your back pocket for just a moment. “But if you want to put your number in my phone, I can always send you instructions if you need help…”
Carmy pauses. Freezes, even. You look at him nervously, afraid that maybe your ability to read the room has evaporated. Luckily, he proves you wrong. 
“Wow. That was smooth.”
You exhale and laugh into the back of your hand. “I’m never that smooth, I don’t know how I managed that,” you chuckle. Carmy’s fingers fly over your keyboard. 
“Thank you for today, really. I usually avoid the hairdresser at all costs.”
“Sugar did tell me that,” you grin. 
“M-maybe I could make you dinner or something, for putting up with me…?”
Your face warms. “I’d like that, yeah.”
Carmy blinks. His phone goes off where you’ve shot him a text with just your name and a smiley face. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
He rubs his hands together. “Okay, cool. Alright, yeah. What do you like?”
“I wouldn’t say no to pasta. Pasta is good in all forms.”
————
“You can tell me if you hate it. I won’t be offended.”
“I think you might have a nervous breakdown though, and you’re too pretty for that.”
Carmy blushes, shaking his head at you. 
“What?” you laugh. “It’s true.” Your voice has a sing-song lilt to it. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know Carmy a bit better. He’s been busy though, so it’s taken longer than expected to have dinner together. 
He made up for it by providing you with pasta and cheesecake for dessert. He’s wearing this thick sweater, your eyes locking on his forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves. 
Sugar was so excited when you texted her after his hair appointment. 
Natalie B: How’d it go? Was he a total pain in the ass?
You: it went well! got him all sorted out. he offered me dinner as a thank you (after he paid, of course). would that weird you out??
Natalie B: OMG NO!! He’s got such a giant stick up his ass, maybe your charm pulled it out! Go have fun. Leigh was telling me you hadn’t been on a date in forever last time I was in anyhow.
You: brb blocking both of you shitheads ♥️
You hadn’t expected a haircut to lead to any of this, but sitting here, in Carmy’s sparsely furnished apartment, looking at the soft smile on his face and the nervous way he’s fussing with his fingers as you eat the dinner he made you, you’re grateful.
Not that you’ll tell Natalie that. Or Leigh. They don’t need that ego boost. 
You wipe your mouth on a napkin and look up to see that Carmy is gazing at you expectantly. You laugh, his eye contact making you a little nervous. 
“It’s good, Carm. Really good. You can eat.”
He swipes his hand down his face, but when it comes down to grab his fork, he lets you see his smile. “I’m glad you like it. Not too much parsley or anything? I didn’t add lemon because Sugar mentioned you saying you didn’t like pasta with too much lemon juice in it.”
Your mouth drops open. That’s such a small, easy to forget thing. Maybe you will have to give Nat a hug. 
You reach out to touch his hand. Tentatively, just in case it’s too far. “That’s so sweet, Carmy. It’s perfect, really. And honestly the lemon thing is from one very overpowering pasta experience. Maybe whatever you make me will be better.”
Carmen takes a big bite of pasta and a swig of beer so he has time to collect himself. “Maybe we can fix your lemon-related trauma.”
“As long as there’s a backup snack in case the lemon PTSD can’t be fixed.”
You both burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of dinner goes by, filled with conversation about everything and nothing—Carmy’s lack of knowledge about current television, your love of reading and need for someone to share the plots with. 
Carmen is making you a plate to take home with you when he’s finally psyched himself up to ask his question. He says your name and you peer at him from your spot against the counter. 
“I-uh…I’ve been trying to do my hair the way you taught me, but I can’t get it right. I was wonderin’ if you’d show me? Maybe? You don’t have to—”
“Of course I can. All you had to do was ask.” You push off the counter and beam at him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
You’re lucky you already learned the way to his bathroom so that your streak of confidence would continue working so well. And when you squeeze out some of the hair gel into Carmy’s hands, you know he just needed an excuse. He’s got it down pat. 
He runs his hands through his hair, scrunching clumps together every now and then, finger-curling the pieces up front and by his ears. Now you’re just waiting to see what he really wanted to say. 
You cross your arms, attempting to look serious, but you can’t hold back the grin spreading across your face. 
Carmen looks over at you, drying his hands now that they’re free of product. He’s never been great at reading people, but that look in your eye tells him he’s a shit actor. 
“So, that didn’t fool you, huh?”
You giggle. “Not at all, Berzatto. You couldn’t even fake how well you’ve learned to do your hair.”
Carmy takes a step closer to you, rubbing his nose self-consciously. “I’m very bad at saying what I’m thinking. Or saying what I want.”
“I can see that.”
He squints at you, his lips ticking up just slightly. 
“So what is it you want but are too scared to say?” you start. “Do we need to play hangman?” 
That would normally get a laugh out of him, but he’s too on edge. Inhale. Exhale. Oh, just fucking say it, Carm. 
“I wanna kiss you.”
Your ears burn. You release your bottom lip from where it was pinned between your teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that. Please do.”
You push up on your tiptoes, suddenly bursting with excitement and hoping that’ll convey to Carmen that he doesn’t need to be nervous because you want this just as bad. 
It works. 
You put your hands on Carmy’s collarbones the second his fingers slip into your hair. Your nervous system lights on fire, thoughts of how much surface area his palms cover racing through your mind. He kisses you all shy and hesitant at first, like he’s nervous he won’t do what you’re hoping. 
His lips are warm, and you can feel the spots where he’s chewed them raw. You can’t help but think that kissing him might be a good way to break that habit. His nose presses into your cheek, tickling you and making you giggle.
Carmen pulls away, smiling at you. “What’s so funny?”
“Your nose was tickilin’ my cheek.”
“Oh? Like this?” He starts dragging his nose across your face and then down to your neck when he feels you start to laugh harder. He thinks he’s finally cracked the code. It seems like pasta and nose tickles are the proper way into your heart. 
————
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note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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loulovingho · 1 month ago
Text
Sleep Talking
(Dedicated to my niece, who wakes me up weekly with very detailed sleep discussions about roblox)
Before Buck slept over for the first time, Tommy had given him a warning.
“Sometimes I talk in my sleep,” he'd said. “It's not always, and usually only when I'm overly tired or stressed, but... just in case, wanted you to know.”
He'd given Buck the option to change his mind. He could stay in the spare room, or go home if he wanted, but Buck simply pulled him closer and told him there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here.
Nothing happened that first night, or the next time they slept together, or even the next time.
Buck was starting to wonder if this was something from Tommy's childhood. Something he'd grown out of a long time ago, he just didn't know it.
And that's when it happened.
“I don't want those teeth,” he'd mumbled out, pushing a hand out in front of him. “No. Thank. You.”
He'd just gotten off a 48 that turned into a 52 and had barely gotten any sleep. He'd passed out as soon as his head hit the bed, and Buck sat up beside him, quietly reading a book with the lamp light on low.
Buck was a little startled at first, looking over at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What?” he'd asked, thinking for a split second that Tommy had woken up with something to say.
But when he saw Tommy's eyes shut tight, his face scrunched up in that way it did when he was annoyed, Buck knew.
He was sleep talking.
So, Buck waited. He waited to see if Tommy had anything else to say.
A couple minutes went by, and Tommy's face relaxed again, so Buck went to turn back to his book, then-
“I'd rather die then get veneers.”
Okay, so maybe he wasn't done.
“I just don't like them,” he continued, again shoving his hand out like he was pushing something away. “Take it all. Not my pearly whites.”
Buck closed his book and laid it on the nightstand, shutting off the light and scooting further into bed. As he did, Tommy turned and immediately snuggled into his side, resting his head on Buck's chest. “I go home with all teeth,” he commanded.
Buck wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You'll get to keep your teeth, Babe,” he whispered. “I promise.”
“Hmph,” Tommy huffed. “Giddy up says the cowboy, I guess.”
Buck tried and failed to contain his laughter, but still he held Tommy closer as he drifted off to sleep himself. Luckily, he didn't mind the noise.
*****
“I don't care if she wants to go home. She is here, her leg is'a half mile down road. She going to hospital now stat!”
Tommy had mentioned having a difficult day at work. Buck was already at his place when he got home, food coming out of the oven and ready to eat as soon as Tommy showered and got changed.
They'd had a comfortably quiet dinner, Tommy mostly speaking about how good the food was, and asking Evan to please stay the night.
He didn't need to be convinced.
They'd fallen asleep with their naked bodies tangled together, too lazy to get out of bed and put anything back on.
If it wasn't for the fact Tommy was talking nearly directly in Buck's ear, he probably wouldn't have even woken up.
“Lady, you don't have a leg to stand on. Literally. I'm takin' you to hospital and you get help with leg.” He moved his head as though he were turning to speak to someone else, “And help with brain,” he muttered.
Buck tried to unravel himself from Tommy. Get some distance between them so he could go back to sleep without Tommy talking right in his ear. But as soon as he moved, Tommy was rolling over and wiggling around until his head laid directly over Buck's stomach. “People are so stupid,” he whispered into Buck's bellybutton. “This is a comfy sandwich though.”
*****
“Evan makes better casseroles than this.”
It was the middle of the day, and Tommy had fallen asleep on the couch. They'd spent thirty-six of the last forty-eight hours moving Buck's things into his place, and that was after Tommy had come off of a forty-eight hour shift. So, while Buck and Eddie finished eating lunch at the kitchen table, Tommy had decided to lie down and rest his eyes for a few minutes.
“This casserole tastes like sewage.”
Eddie peered into the living room, then looked over at Buck, who was eating his sandwich like nothing was happening at all.
“What's he talking about?” Eddie asked.
Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What? Who?”
“Evan uses chicken breast. So much better than this.”
Eddie waved in Tommy's direction. “Come on, Man!”
“Oh! Yeah, he's just sleep talking. Does it when he's overly tired.”
“He... He sleep talks about your casseroles?”
Buck smiled, nodding. “He really likes them. You know, I wasn't sure if he was just telling me they were good to be nice, but he doesn't have a filter when he sleep talks so that's how I know.”
Eddie glanced at Tommy again. “Does he ever sleep talk about me?”
Buck's posture straightened and he pursed his lips. “I can't break that trust, Eddie.”
“He does!” Eddie exclaimed. “What's he say? Did he talk about Muay Thai? Because headbutting is an illegal move so technically he didn't win.”
“I said I can't break his trust,” Buck repeated, getting up to throw his trash away. “Although, if someone was losing so they made it look like they got headbutted... Well, I wouldn't know anything about it.”
“I knew it! Your man is such a sore loser, Buck.” Eddie got up and walked over to Tommy, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. “I spent my day off unloading boxes for you,” he whispered over him. “I could have left you alone with Buck. Everyone else made excuses but I didn't.”
“Only thing better than casserole is his soup,” Tommy said, one hand going to his stomach. “I call it sex soup, cause it goes down the throat 'n straight to my-"
“Okay,” Eddie grimaced, walking away. “I'm about to lose my lunch.”
“Did he mention sex soup?” Buck asked.
“Mhm.”
Buck nodded. “Always ends up there after casserole.” He shrugged, “It is really good soup though.”
“Ugh,” Eddie groaned. “I hate you both.”
*****
Buck learned over time that Tommy's sleep talking from being overly tired versus his sleep talking from being stressed were two very different things. Overly tired Tommy was funny, sarcastic, and a little bitchy. He was much like awake Tommy, things just made less sense and he had no filter whatsoever.
Stressed Tommy was like listening to the saddest, most angsty drama you've ever heard in your life.
“Please,” he muttered out, sounding like he was on the verge of having a breakdown. “Please, listen to me.”
Buck was mostly used to the sleep talking now, but the difference in Tommy's voice shook him awake. He knew Tommy had a bad day. It was the anniversary of his mom's death, which was already rough, but then his dad called and said he'd be coming into town. He expected Tommy to meet with him for lunch. When Tommy declined, there was a fight. Mostly on his dad's side, with Tommy sitting there and listening, becoming more and more disconnected with each word. His dad just kept going and going until Buck reached out for the phone, taking it from Tommy's hand and hanging up for him.
He'd gotten quiet after that. Withdrawn in a way Buck hadn't seen before. He was usually an open book about his life. He'd told Buck all the good and the bad, and there was a lot of bad, but something about the phone call was different.
“I don't want you,” Tommy groaned, his head moving left to right so quickly his neck made a popping sound. “I want...” his voice trailed off. Buck slowly lowered his arm over Tommy's waist, hoping that would help him rest, but it only seemed to stir him back up. His legs kicked out quickly as he turned onto his side, facing away from Buck. “You don't listen to me!” he exclaimed. It made Buck's heart race a little. He never usually shouted when he was sleep talking.
“It should have been you, not her!”
The next noise Tommy made sounded less human and more like a dog crying out in pain. His body thrashed out, his arm nearly smacking Buck on the chest.
“You always hated me,” he said, quieter this time. “I see it in the mirror.”
That was all Buck could handle. He quickly sat up and turned the lamp on. “Tommy,” he whispered. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but he knew that was probably the worst idea at this point.
“It's not... It's not fair. It's not fair. I don't-”
“Tommy!”
Tommy's eyes shot open as he sucked in a breath of air.
He blinked a few times, eyes darting around until he met Buck's.
“Was I..?”
Buck nodded. “I think it was a nightmare though. You- I couldn't touch you.”
Tommy looked so tired, his eyes struggling to stay open even as his chest heaved. “I'm sorry.”
“You don't need to be sorry,” Buck replied, moving closer to Tommy now that he was awake. “I was just worried.”
“Was it... about him?”
“Yeah, I- I think so.”
Tommy pulled Buck close, nearly wrapping their bodies together like a pretzel. “I really hate him, Evan,” he said, voice breaking as he settled his head into the crook of Buck's neck.
Buck ran his hand up and down Tommy's back. “I know you do, Baby. I know.”
*****
There was one conversation Tommy had in his sleep more than any other, and Buck never got tired of that one.
“He's so pretty. Like a teapot.”
The things he called Buck were always different, but the overall message never changed.
“This Evan, he is love my life.”
Buck grinned. He loved when Tommy missed a word here and there.
“Nah, he won't bite you. Only me.”
Tommy let out an exasperated sigh before speaking again. “He's my special on menu. I like him and me like peanut butter and jelly. Apple jelly, duh, are you crazy?”
Another sigh, and Tommy wiggled his legs a little. “I know you drive thru, I wants fries with that. He's my chicken nugget. Love my chicken nugget.”
Buck turned to his side, pressing his body against Tommy's and wrapping an arm around him. He pressed a kiss to the back of his head. “Your chicken nugget loves you too.”
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 7 months ago
Note
prompt 8 and 14 (shy readers first time) and moms bsf wanda
You Were Red and You Liked Me Because I Was Blue
Mom's bsf!Wanda Maximoff x shy!innocent!Romanoff!fem!reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, age gap relationship (W=35, R=20) W calls herself Mommy, use of pet names, W fingers R
A/N: I worked on this all day while I didn't feel good and I have a killer headache at the moment so if I missed any warning I'm sorry. I can't think anymore.
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The air was cold, without snow falling to distract you it felt unbearable to be waiting for your ride back home for break. Unfortunately you mom was off on a work trip until 3 days before Christmas so instead her best friend, Wanda would be picking you up.
Normally Wanda would have also been preoccupied this time of year, but since her and Vision finalized their divorce and custody of the boys, Vision would be getting them Christmas break first.
You couldn't imagine what that must be like for Wanda. Suddenly after 10 years of family tradition she was alone again and Wanda being alone was never a good thing. You'd known Wanda for a long time. After Natasha helped take down the red room she'd taken you, the youngest widow on the ship under her wing. The day you gained Natasha as a mom, you also gained an aunt Yelena. You had always heard stories of the famous Black Widow that got away and you'd seen Yelena training with others the greatest child assassin the world has ever known. Though you know her now as Auntie Lena who eats Mac and cheese straight out of the pot.
You're pulled out of your thoughts when you see the familiar red subaru ascent. Wanda pulled up with a smile as you opened up the trunk to set your luggage in before quickly getting in the passenger seat with a shiver. Wanda pulled you into her arms, your body instantly heating from her contact.
“Hi sweetheart. How was the flight in?” She asked near your ear, making your heart skip a beat as you pulled back, trying to calm your body down.
“It was fine. Better than having you drive five hours to come grab me.” You told her as you put on your seat belt.
“I wouldn't have minded a 5 hour road trip with you sweet girl.” You bit the inside of your cheek at her words, choosing to stare out the window as she pulled away from the airport.
With Wanda's help you brought your luggage into the house and headed to your room to finally lie down and stretch out. The flight was only an hour and a half and the car ride back was about a half hour. You had barley acknowledged Wanda when she said about her starting on dinner instead choosing to go shower and clean yourself up.
You'd been told that even though you're an adult your mom wanted Wanda there with you. She said it was so you could keep an eye on the other. For Wanda it was so you'd stay out of trouble and for you it was to keep Wanda company. Natasha knew what it was like for Wanda to be alone.
What you and Natasha didn't know though was Wanda had fawned over you since she met you. When Natasha first introduced you and Yelena you always hid away. A little mouse making little to no noise as you moved. Even your thoughts were quiet to Wanda. It was something she found solace in around you. She knew what had happened to you and the other widows. Though you were next step of perfecting what Drekovy wanted out of the widows, total control they had perfected and for you, the only survivor of your age group, an enhanced super soldier serum. It gave you all the same enhancements as Steve and Bucky, but you stayed small, unassuming so no one ever saw you coming.
“Y/N! Dinner's ready sweet girl!” Wanda called up as you looked over yourself in the mirror, the scars lining your arms, shoulders, chest. They were everywhere.
You took the stairs two at a time, hair still damp, but Wanda's cooking smelt too good to keep her waiting. She looked up from moving things from the counter to the dining table. Natasha always used to have these ‘family meals’ where her parents, Yelena, Wanda, Vision, and the boys would come over. They stopped happening when Wanda and Vision decided to get the divorce. A smile was on Wanda's face,
“I made your favorite. Help me move it over to the table.” You happily helped out so the two of you could eat dinner together.
As Wanda was cleaning up and insisting that you go relax on the couch and get a movie ready you watched her from the couch, forgoing a movie and putting on The Office instead. You needed the background noise because to you your thoughts felt so loud that Wanda must be able to hear you if you didn't have something distracting her.
As she finished up and sat next to you she gave no indication of hearing your thoughts which she often did to those around her. Her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against her as if you were two magnets. You bit the corner of your lips trying to watch the show.
You knew Wanda was experienced obviously, she has twins. You on the other hand haven't even gotten the opportunity to kiss a girl or a boy or anyone because from the day you met Wanda all you ever wanted was her. You'd never tell her that though.
She was with Vision when you met her nearly 13 years ago. With everything that happened after that with Thanos and then defeating him without the loss of half the population you could just live life normally for the first time.
Wanda's hand found your thigh, rubbing gently as she watched the show, one the two of you have watched multiple times over the years. You enjoyed sitcoms like she did along with being introduced to reality TV which is just a guilty pleasure really.
“W-Wands…” your voice was barely a whisper and Wanda pretended not to hear you. Not even when you started squirming under her touch as her hand grew closer to your hot center. Her hand squeezed you as you let out a little whimper. “Wands…” you tried again, trying to be louder, but you couldn't. Once again your plea goes unacknowledged as her pinky brushes against your clit, your hands fly down to her wrist. She finally looks at you. You don't dare look at her.
“What's wrong sweet girl?” She asks so innocently as if she has no idea what she's doing.
“W-Wands…I…you…” you fumble with your words. Her other hand reaches your chin, forcing you to look at her.
“What about us sweet girl?” You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. She pulls you onto her lap, her hands resting on your hips. “Just watch the show sweet girl. Let Mommy play.” You felt like fireworks went off in your stomach. Sure you'd heard the boys call Wanda Mommy and yeah you'd heard her call herself Mommy over the years, but never in the tone she just used and never directed at you.
You felt like everything on you was burning except for Wanda's hands that were always cold and clad in rings. You did as told keeping your eyes on the screen until you felt her hand push past your waistband. Your hands once again grabbing her wrist, not because you didn't want her to, you really wanted her too. You were nervous.
“W-Wands…I've never…” Wanda moved forward, tilting her head to look at you.
“Not ever at college?” She questioned. You shook your head.
“N-not even a kiss…” you admitted. Wanda's hand leaving your shorts and moving to your face.
“These precious lips haven't kissed anyone else?” You shook your head, “So I'll be your first?” She asked pulling you closer. All you could manage as your heart pounded was a soft ‘mhmm’ before her lips touched yours.
As her lips meet yours, it's a gentle yet electrifying sensation, sending waves of warmth cascading through you. Wanda's touch is tender, guiding you through this unfamiliar territory with ease and patience. With each fleeting moment, you feel yourself melting into her embrace, the world around you fading into the background.
When Wanda pulls back, there's a brief moment of hesitation, as if time itself is holding its breath. You find yourself lost in her gaze, a mixture of emotions swirling within you – anticipation, vulnerability, and a newfound courage. Slowly, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Wanda's lips, her eyes sparkling with tenderness.
With a gentle brush of her fingers against your cheek, Wanda whispers words of reassurance, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the room. And as you lean into her touch, a sense of peace settles within you.
The night carried on without Wanda trying to slip past your shorts instead she kept stealing kisses late into the night before deciding it was time for bed. It was when you moved you could feel just how wet you'd before and you freeze, your thighs smacking tightly together. Wanda stopped, a tug on your hand.
“What's wrong sweet girl?” She looked back at you, confusion etched on her face.
“It…its..icky…” you squirmed and Wanda smirked, taking two steps towards you.
“Don't worry my sweet girl,” she tilted your head up, “Mommy is going to take good care of you.” Her breath against your lip, her voice sweet and thick with her accent, the one you heard all those years ago. Your legs want to turn to jelly.
Wanda wasn't expecting you to stay quiet once her fingers slipped past your wet folds, but you did. Little breathy moans, small whimpers, tiny pleas fell past your lips as your face burned and your eyes screwed shut.
“Don't close your eyes Detka. Look at me.” You could only obey with her voice sounding the way it did. You looked at her, she smiled at you and only picked up her pace.
You squirmed and felt like you were going to burst as you whimpered and tried to get away, but she held you there. You tried closing your legs, but she held them open.
“Open your legs Detka. I wanna see you.” Her nails dug into your thigh.
“F-feels weird…” you squeaked out.
“You're gonna cum for Mommy it'll make you feel better. Go on. Let it happen.” As if your body was waiting on her word, that coil inside of you snapped. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. “That's a good girl…Mommy’s good girl.” Her fingers slowed down before leaving you. Your eyes closed but soon enough Wanda was helping you sit up.
“Water sweet girl. Take a few sips.” You did as told, knowing Wanda always knew best. When she felt you had enough she tapped your cheek and you let go.
She helped you clean yourself up, the cool towel feeling nice against your hot skin and then into pajamas which only consisted of an old band t-shirt of Wanda's and a pair of your panties. As she got the two of you settled into your bed, holding you against her chest. Her fingers moved through your hair as your eyes began to flutter she spoke,
“We're going to have a lot of fun until your mom comes home.” You smiled against her skin. You almost hoped she wouldn't be home for Christmas if it meant more time playing like this with Wanda.
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