#I spent like half the summer trying to find something that worked

[lovethytendytenderly]

Sunrise, Louise Glück, x x x x x x x x x x x

[ely--sia]

velvet ring

contents: unreliable narrator!geto suguru x reader; modern au, fluff, geto is the most unreliable narrator ever words: 1.5k warnings: none

it’s late june, the beginning of an endlessly hot summer. hot, hot sunlight streams through the deep, bright green of the summer leaves, and the ringing sound of cicadas cuts through the humid summer of tokyo like a hot knife against cool butter. it’s almost too hot to breathe. still, suguru makes his way to his part-time job, a cold can of coffee in his left hand and his phone in his right. he never really liked coffee, but he likes the cool of it in his hand. he feels each drop of condensation on the cool metal, rubbing it away with his thumb before shaking all the water off. he cracks it open and takes a sip. 

he remembers again why he never liked coffee. still, he swallows it down with a grimace and glances down at his phone.

today’s a thursday, and his classes end early on thursdays. he’ll make it to his part-time job, the one at the old kissaten, by midday. then, when he finishes at five, he’ll have thirty minutes for a quick dinner before making his way to his other job. 

a heavy sigh leaves suguru’s lips. 

it isn’t because he’s tired. yes, he is tired—he would be lying if he said he wasn’t—but it’s a good kind of tired that leaves his bones singing. it’s the kind of tired that he knows will be worth it in the end. besides, he’s used to work. coming up to tokyo from the countryside for university, working multiple part-time jobs is nothing foreign to him. to suguru, money isn’t some kind of commodity; it’s something that needs to be worked for and earned (even though gojo disagrees), and his body has long become used to late nights and achy muscles. 

no, suguru sighs because he’ll finish at 11 tonight, and he doesn’t know what excuse to tell you this time. you don’t know about him working, and, if all goes well, it will stay that way. he hopes that you’ll turn in early tonight and that by the time you call him the next morning, all worried and apologetic for not checking in, he’ll be able to reassure you that he got back home before nine and spent the entire night studying. he will melt at your sweetness, then turn solid and bitter at the ashy lie on his tongue. but he can’t help it. suguru doesn’t like lying to you, but he can’t avoid it this time.

the truth is, he’s saving up to buy you a gift, and he knows you won’t like that he’s working multiple jobs to get it for you. but it’s something that he wants to do, just because he can. you’re too sweet, too concerned for his well-being to understand. in fact, he can almost see it, your exasperated sighs and furrowed brows as you scold him for doing something so meaningless, insisting that you would’ve been fine without it (but you will still take it, and you will still trace it softly with your fingers every now and then, and to suguru, there is all the meaning in the world in that). he would simply laugh and smooth your furrowed brows with his thumbs, holding your face gently in his hands. he would look down at you with a gaze oozing with so much love that he secretly fears that it might drown you. and as always, he would tell you that a small ‘thank you’ is all he needs (it really is; really, it’s a lot more than what he needs, but he’ll still take it and hide it selfishly under his tongue, savoring it again and again and again until not even the bare bones of your words are left).

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover.

his heart flutters, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips.

the summer heat doesn’t feel so unbearable anymore.

—

two months pass, and summer is almost over. suguru has finally saved up enough to buy your gift. he holds the small, white bag tightly in his sweaty hands. he hopes you like it, but if you don’t, suguru will just try again and again and again until he finally finds something that you do like. hopefully even love. to him, it doesn’t sound half bad.

“i got this for you,” he says, taking your hand and folding your fingers around the rope handles of the bag. this way, you’ll have to take it.

inside it is a gold necklace with a small, moon-shaped charm. it glints brilliant and white in the warm light of suguru’s home, and it captivates you. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, much less owned.

“suguru…” you start, but you don’t know what to say next. 

luckily, you don’t have to say anything. suguru knows you like the back of his own calloused hand. 

“don’t worry,” he says, “i saw it on the way here. i thought it would look nice on you. it’s nothing too expensive.”

this is a lie, of course. really, suguru knew it would look good on you two months ago, when he first saw it in the window of a jewelry shop at the department store. but he would never let you know that.

you stare at the necklace for a moment, and suguru stares at you. he watches as you try to find the right words to say, gaze shifting from the necklace, then to him, then to the necklace, then back to him again. a warm sense of pride rises inside him, and he can barely hide the smile on his face now. 

“do you like it?” he grins, “i’ll put it on for you.”

he grasps the ends of the necklace and moves behind you to do the clasps. his fingers brush against the soft, untouched skin of your neck, and he is a teenage boy again, praying that his sins go unnoticed by the gods. as he does this, you turn your head back to look up at him. there’s a sweetness spilling through his ribs and it’s almost too much. his chest squeezes tight, lest any of his heavy, heavy love spills onto you. when he finishes, he turns you around to get a good look. 

ah. 

you look beautiful. 

he knew it.

“thank you so much,” you say, “really. thank you. i don’t know how to–”

“if you like it, then that’s all that matters,” suguru cuts you off with a wide smile. 

he doesn’t understand why you thank him so profusely—you deserve more than just a necklace after all (would his entire being be enough? would you take him if he begged you to?)—but he’ll still savor it. the words that fall from your lips are even sweeter than he had ever imagined words could be, and he never wants you to thank anyone else ever again. he’s a selfish, selfish man. will you ever understand?

he would buy you a thousand more necklaces. he would love the world for you (hatred is easy; finding love for such an ugly, powerless thing is much harder, suguru thinks). you only need to ask. all you ever need to do is ask. 

“but it looks really expensive,” you look up at him with concern. 

“i told you, it was nothing,” he hums, praying that you don’t question him any further. lying to you doesn’t come so easily, and after two months of it, he doesn’t know if he can bear to tell you another.

you look into his eyes, searching for even a hint of a lie. 

suguru holds his breath. 

he will never let you know the truth. you’d hate it. maybe even hate him. it would be far too much of a burden, especially for a necklace. he loves in a way that is suffocating and thick and heavy, and he is afraid that you might realize it for yourself one day. so he will keep the truth, and the barely-there ache in his muscles that comes with it, hidden for himself, tucked away deep inside the space between his heart and his lungs, and you will never have to know. and when you are gone—and he is sure you will be some day, finally tired of just how honey-thick his love is—he will replay this exact feeling until it fades away completely from his memory.

finally, you break out into a wide grin, and suguru’s world becomes a little brighter than before. his arms move to hold you as you bury your face into his chest. despite his age, he still finds his face growing hot, praying that you don’t hear how fast his heart beats. a small part of him even worries that you might even feel his thoughts through his skin, but he pushes that silly thought away. 

“thank you so much,” you laugh, “i love it.”

your laugh rings through his chest, and, just for a moment, he is cleansed of the heavy, leaden feeling inside. thick, black tar turns into flowing water. 

oh. maybe you do understand—have understood, for a long time now. still, you are here.

he chuckles. 

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover. 

“i’m glad.”

-

-

-

-

a/n: geto is an unreliable narrator and you don't think of this of him, but he doesn't know that :(( sugu thinks his love is the opposite of what he thinks love should be like (whimsical, light, etc. etc.) :(( and that it's only a matter of time before u realise it and leave him ;(( he's too sweet that's y he's like this my baby

but i dont really like this one ill try better next time <33

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Me again but with an actual request this time 😭😭 would you be able to write poly!marauders with reader who just got their wisdom teeth out and they’re all taking her home and taking care of her while she’s all loopy and hyped up on pain meds. I think it’d be so silly and cute. Only if you want to though! Much love and thanks!

-🍓

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mention of blood, effects of anesthesia

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius had offered to be the one to drive you, but no one had let him because of how upset you all knew he’d get. As soon as you come through the door, Remus knows they’d made the right decision. 

“I know, darling,” James' voice is low, sympathetic, and a bit panicked, “but I promise you can have them in a couple of days, alright?”

Sirius leaves the dishwater to get cold, beelining for the front door. Remus is hot on his tail. They find James kneeling in front of you, untying your shoes while tears dribble off your chin and into his hair.

“I can make you a smoothie, or mashed potatoes, or any non-solid your heart desires.” He turns his head, mouthing help. 

Your face only crumples miserably, and James looks nearly like he might cry too but Sirius comes to his rescue. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” He palms the back of your head, careful of your face as he tilts it up towards him. “What’s got you so wound up, huh?” 

“He won’t let me have marshmallows,” you cry, words all garbled by the gauze in your mouth. 

“So mean,” Sirius commiserates. “I’ll do you one better and make you a chocolate milk, how’s that sound?” 

Your tears dry instantly. James lifts your ankle to take off your shoe, and you grip Sirius’ arms, beaming up at him. Or beaming as best you can, with your mouth all numb and full of cotton. 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh, blissful. 

Sirius grins right back at you, his hand coasting down your neck and back up again. Remus can tell he’s dying to touch your face the way he normally would, but he restrains himself. “You’ve got a deal,” he says as James pries off your other shoe. “Come watch me work.” 

He steers you toward the kitchen, Remus passing a hand over your head as you go by. You give him a sweet, lovelorn look in return. 

“Can she have her gauze out soon?” he asks James once you’re in the kitchen. 

He sets your shoes by the door. “Yeah, it should be fine by now. They said a half hour.” James leans against the couch and passes a hand over his face. He looks so worn out Remus can’t help but cross the room to him, taking his hand and kissing it lightly.

“Was she very upset the whole time?” he asks.

“No, she’s been all over the place. Far worse than you, though.” 

Remus feels heat rise to his face at the memory. He’d had his wisdom teeth out last summer and reportedly spent the rest of the day clinging to whoever was nearest, grousing about how tired he was but never actually going to sleep. 

“Oh, uh…” James digs in his pocket. A few receipts and a dime come out, then a small bottle of pills. “They said she should start on these once she got home, but I can’t get them open. Can you try?” 

“Mhm.”

“Thanks.” James’ eyes widen, and he rushes off to the kitchen, saying something to Sirius about how they can’t let you use a straw. Remus follows a few steps behind, reading the label of the pill bottle before twisting the top off. It was childproofed, bless him. 

When he enters the kitchen, Sirius has you sat up on the counter and is poking around in your mouth. He takes out the gauze carefully, one piece at a time, and sets it on the counter. Remus makes a mental note to deep-clean that later. Your eyes follow Sirius’ movements, slowly widening. 

“Is all that blood from me?” Your voice carries a slight quiver. 

“That?” Sirius says swiftly. “No, that’s old blood. You’re good as new now.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, deflating a bit in relief. Remus chuckles, and your eyes fly to him, lighting. “Rem!” 

You open your arms wide. He steps into them, raising his eyebrows at James as you grip his shoulders tightly. 

“Told you,” James stage-whispers. “All over the place.” 

“I can hear you,” you say, words muffled into Remus’ sweater. He pets the back of your head pacifyingly. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” 

You take some time to mull this over. “M’okay,” you decide. “I’m a little sad they had to take my tongue, but it could be worse I guess.” 

“They didn’t take your tongue,” James says, like it’s not the first time he’s had to tell you this, “you just had some teeth removed.” 

“They’re dismantling me,” you say morosely. It’s clear you’ve accepted your fate. 

Remus strokes your hair again, leaning away slightly so you’ll look up at him. You do, and even with your glassed-over eyes and puffy cheeks you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurting too badly,” he hums, cupping the side of your head. You smile dopily and lean into the touch. “I’ve got a pill that’ll help make sure you don’t hurt later, too.” 

Sirius passes you your chocolate milk so you can take it, and James clucks about how you need to take slow, careful sips all the way until you’ve drained the glass. As soon as it’s out of your grasp you’ve replaced it with Remus’ hand, your fingers tracing the lines of his palm with idle fascination. 

“Feel like watching a film?” he asks you softly. 

You hum. “That sounds nice. Can I have the fuzzy pillow because they’re taking me apart?” 

Remus huffs a laugh, and James groans. “Nobody’s taking you apart, darling,” he reasons. “The dentist only took the unimportant bits.” 

“Bit by bit,” you sigh. 

James looks in distress, so Remus takes the crook of his elbow in hand, squeezing lightly as Sirius eases you off the counter and into his hold. Remus thinks you’ll be lucky if he releases you before tomorrow. 

“You can have all the pillows if you want them,” Sirius promises you. “My poor girl, being taken apart bit by bit. You can have whatever you want.”

[natalievoncatte]

“Hey,” Kara said, “want to grab something for lunch?”

Seated at her desk, Lena waved her hand dismissively, even though she was only talking to Kara on the phone.

“I can’t. I have too much to do.”

“You’re the boss, you can just take off. Everyone has to do what you say.”

Lena rolled her eyes. There was a hint of teasing in Kara’s voice, but Lena meant it. L-Corp was in the final stages of a major acquisition. Lena was taking over an AI startup that was developing a key technology for one of her medical division products, and to make it viable she needed their patents, IP, and scientific talent.

“I really am swamped.”

“Can’t you spare half an hour? For me? I want to make sure you’re not starving yourself again.”

Lena sighed. The teasing was replaced with a genuine concern, now. Lena had admitted to Kara that she lost five the last time she got caught up in something for three weeks. Of everyone she mentioned it to, Kara was the only one who didn’t congratulate her. She worried, she fussed, and she fed Lena that night.

“Okay,” said Lena. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten, does that sound…”

“I’m already here.”

Kara then opened the door and walked in, smirking. Lena’s breath caught when she saw her. Kara had her hair in an elaborate braid and was dressed for the blistering summer heat in a green sun dress and sandals. Joy sparkled in her blue eyes and she smiled wide.

“We could get delivery,” said Lena.

“Nope! Fresh air! It’s good for you!”

Lena sighed and allowed herself to be bundle outside, throwing on a hat and sunglasses. Since she was in the office on a Saturday and had let herself in, she had dressed casually and the heat was tolerable while they walked.

They spent the trip in companionable silence. Kara walked close to her, a presence just to Lena’s right that seemed to electrify the air, like something pulling between them.

Lena noticed things. Like how Kara always walked between her and the road, and how the way her arms would swing always seemed to leave Kara’s pinky brushing the outside of Lena’s hand. Sometimes she’d mumble an apology. Sometimes not. Sometimes Lena would feel the tender touch, and find Kara looking at her oddly, a soft wistful smile on her face that made Lena melt.

Sometimes she thought about catching her hand. Sometimes she thought about stopping and meeting that look, gently asking what Kara was so intent about. She never did, because as much as she enjoyed that fluttering feeling in her belly, she was certain Kara was straight.

It was like an ache she just couldn’t stop, dull and pulsing at the back of her mind. One soft brush of Kara’s lips on her own would be more than-

“Hey,” Kara said. “You’re a million miles away.”

“Oh,” Lena murmured, realizing that she’d been staring this time. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about work.”

There was a nearly imperceptible flash of concern and sadness on Kara’s face, the tiniest hint of a frown that made Lena want to cup her cheek and whisper an apology, but didn’t.

“This is it,” said Kara. “Try to relax, alright?”

Lena sighed her best promise and followed Kara in to a quaint little lunch spot with air conditioning and big ceiling fans mounted high overhead, and they took their seats.

Kara ordered for her -you need protein, Lena!- and she spent the next forty-five minutes picking at a turkey wrap and listening to Kara chatter excitedly about gossip and work and who was dating who at CatCo and a big story she was working on. Lena knew she had a lopsided smile on her face and was nodding along, as much for the delight of Kara’s excitement. She did little voices when she imitated her coworkers and got animated when talking about her story.

Lena barely said a word.

“You’re quiet,” Kara finally said.

I’m in love with you, Lena thought.

“I’m just tired. I was listening. You think Elliot is dating… Katie?”

Kara smirked at her.

“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard. There’s more to life than work.”

Kara rested her hand atop Lena’s, and Lena felt her heart flip in her chest.

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been distant, this project just means a lot to me.”

“Let’s get you back before the building burns down,” said Kara.

Lena felt a little guilty as they walked into the bar to pay the bill. For some reason, Lena felt a little thrill when Kara insisted on paying, and the host looked at Lena and then smirked at Kara.

They turned, snd a man stepped up to Lena.

“Luthor!” he shouted. “You ruined my fucking life!”

Lena froze, wide-eyed, about to ask what she did. The man raised the gun he had hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt and fired. The sound was incredible, stabbing at her ear drums and filling the world with a dull ringing. She stumbled back into the bar.

Kara’s fist was clenched in front of her chest, her eyes wide and expression wild. Kara snapped her attention to the gunman, who fired again.

She stepped between the gun and Lena. Five more shots went off and seemed to rumple her dress with tiny bursts of wind, but then Lena saw the bullets had torn the fabric before they tumbled to the floor.

Kara swept her hand and yanked the gun out of his hand, and it fell to the floor in a crumpled mass, sliding along the tiles.

She changed. It was as if she grew taller, wider, expression hardening. She grabbed the attacker by his collar and hauled him off the floor with one hand, and Lena felt a pang of fear as fire literally blazed in her eyes.

When she put a hand on Kara’s shoulder, the muscles were coiled like steel cables.

“Don’t” she caught herself whispering.

Kara threw him. He slid across the floor and thumped against the wall, and she strode over and planted her foot on his chest, easily pinning him. He stared up at her in naked shock.

Kara touched her ear. “Alex, get to my location asap. Someone just tried to kill Lena. We need a cleanup.”

Lena stared at her.

It wasn’t five minutes before her sister, in full tactical gear, led a team of armed agents into the cafe and bundled up Lena’s assailant, dragging him away. They took the crumpled gun and the fallen bullets and began talking to the other patrons and staff.

Lena started to shake.

Kara focused on her instantly and led her outside, where “FBI” vans were waiting. Kara stepped into one and in half a second, without seeming to break stride, stepped back into view in full Supergirl regalia.

Lena almost fell. He knees went wobbly and she slumped, right into Kara’s arms. Kara scooped her up in a single fluid motion and lifted off as Lena took a death grip on the collar of her suit and buried her face in Kara’s neck.

Moments later they lighted on Lena’s balcony. Kara pushed the door aside, ignoring the very expensive lock that popped off as she did, and carried her inside.

Bolting, Lena ran to the bathroom. Her entire body had gone cold, like she’d been dunked in ice water. She sagged to her knees and grabbed the toilet, retching.

Kara was there. A soft, reassuring hand rubbed her back while the other tenderly and expertly gathered her hair. Lena couldn’t help it; she struggled to hold on her lunch, shaking, screaming between retches.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you.”

“He almost killed me,” Lena choked out. “If you weren’t there I’d be dead.”

Kara sat down, and pulled Lena into her lap, rocking her softly until the shaking subsided before standing up, easily carrying her out of the room.

A glass of water helped. Kara was attentive, gently, softly encouraging while the adrenaline shakes ravaged Lena.

Kara was Supergirl. It seemed weirdly obvious to her now. She looked up and realized that Kara hadn’t unbraided her hair, and the effect was disconcerting. Kara took Lena in her arms again, hugging her tight.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”

Lena took in a deep breath, drinking her scent as Kara rubbed her back and did the same, burying her face in Lena’s hair.

“You’re going to be okay,” Kara murmured, “it’s alright.”

“I’m so tired of this,” Lena whimpered. “What did I do? Why did he want to hurt me?”

“You don’t deserve to live this way,” said Kara.

“Oh God,” said Lena. “I have to… the acquisition, my work…”

Kara seized her head in her hands, firmly yet gently, cupping Lena’s cheeks in her palms. Kara stared at her with shocking intensity, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Fuck your work,” Kara almost shouted. “I care about you. You, Lena! You’re more than… you… I…”

Lena stared back at her, in shock at the intensity in her voice, even moreso than the out of character f-bomb. Kara was still holding her, looking at her with such fullness of feeling, biting her lip and struggling to hold back tears and failing, that Lena couldn’t stop herself. She lunged, diving into Kara, hugging her.

Lena hugged Kara, but Kara was the one to kiss her first. Their lips met in a nearly painful crash, Kara diving into her like she might never see her again.

Oh.

It was a wild sensation, this adrenaline shock combined with the feeling of Kara’s powerful arms wrapped around her, fingers that could crush diamonds gripping her hip and the back of her neck, the way Kara stood tall over her and her boots thumped on the floor when she took a step.

“You mean everything to me.”

Lena sucked in a breath and swallowed a sob.

Oh.

“Don’t leave,” Lena chirped out. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t.”

Lena finally felt herself slowing down, but it left her drained, barely able to stand. She slumped against Kara and stayed there, clinging to her.

“I’m going to change,” Kara murmured. “Easy.”

She lowered Lena onto the sofa and she curled in the corner, huddled in a ball.

Then Kara reached to her shoulders unclasped one side of her cape, then the other. With a flourish she swung it wide and swept it over Lena as a blanket.

“Stay right here.”

She wasn’t gone long. In mere moments she was there in a t-shirt and shorts, wrapping herself around Lena.

It took hours for Lena to finally calm down, and by then she’d fallen asleep on Kara’s shoulder. When she woke up, Kara was teasing her fingers along Lena’s scalp and singing softly. It took a moment for Lena to realize that the clipped, rhythmic language had to be Kryptonian.

“Are you okay?”

Lena nodded.

“It was different this time. People have tried to kill me before but… it was different. He was just some guy in a cafe.”

“Lena,” Kara murmured, “look at me.”

Lena looked up, meeting Kara’s soft, intent gaze.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Lena’s heart swelled. It felt so real, so true. Kara meant it, every bit of it, from the depths of her being. Lena tucked in closer to her and sighed on her shoulder.

“Work can wait until Monday,” Lena whispered.

“Tuesday,” Kara corrected.

“Can you stay tonight?” said Lena. “Just to sleep,” she added.

“Of course.”

They were silent to a while.

“Lena?”

“Yeah.”

“About earlier, if I… overstepped, I’m sorry. It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath.

“It means everything.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

[atlabeth]

🧸 dare i say luke castellan fluff..... please.... CONGRATS ON 3K!!!!

summer stressed

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of athena reader

summary: summer is over, most of your siblings are gone, but you still can't relax. fortunately, luke is pretty good at it.

a/n: thank you for the request sorry that these are taking so long but thats life !! this one is for all my anxious girlies that always think they're forgetting something even when there is absolutely nothing to do (me finishing finals and still feeling like i should be doing something at all times)

wc: 788

warning(s): all fluff

“This feels weird.” 

“How does it feel weird?” Luke asks, amused. 

“We’re just… sitting here,” you say. 

“Is that a problem?” 

Your head rests on Luke’s chest as you lay in your bed together, one of his arms curled protectively around you as he keeps the other behind his head. Every so often, he trails his fingers down your arm, plays with your hair a bit, adjusts his position to make you more comfortable. 

You can feel the warmth of his skin even through his camp shirt, and it makes up for the slight chill of the Athena cabin. He’s basically your own personal space heater. You wouldn’t classify any of this as a problem. 

“No,” you say. “The opposite of a problem.” 

Luke chuckles, and you can feel his eyes on you. “Then why does it feel weird?” 

You let out a huff and sit up, turning to face your boyfriend. “Because we’re just sitting here.” 

“You’ve already said that, babe.” He smiles, and you have the urge to kiss him right there. You wonder if he knows the power he holds with that damn smile. 

“It’s too quiet,” you say, gesturing around your cabin. “It’s never a good sign when things are quiet.” 

“Could that be because more than half of your cabin is gone?” he asks. 

“My siblings are smart,” you say. “They’re good at causing chaos in silence.” 

“And if they are, that’s a problem for another day.” 

“I’m still forgetting something,” you insist. “Are you sure I’m off the clock for today?” 

Luke nods. “All the counselors get the day off from leading lessons after the last day of summer. Everyone’s off the clock.” 

“And I don’t have anything I need to clear with Chiron.” 

“You had the conversation with him about going into the city to get stuff for Jane’s party last week, and we’re taking a van out in two days,” Luke says. “Nothing else I know of.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Positive.” 

“There’s really nothing else?” 

“Nothing,” he promises. 

You look around your cabin and shake your head. “No. No— this place is a mess. I’ve got to clean up before inspections—” 

Luke catches your wrist as you try to get up and says your name softly. “Your cabin is spotless, ace. I think I can see my reflection in the floorboards.” 

“Still, Luke,” you insist as you look at him. “There’s got to be something we should be doing.” 

“There isn’t!” he exclaims. “I’ve never met anyone more desperate to be doing busy work, babe. All that talk about us getting some alone time for nothing.” 

“I just have this feeling that I’m missing something,” you say as you shake your head.

Luke laughs again, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound. He’s just so beautiful when he’s happy. “Alright, ace. Want me to ease your worries?” 

“You can try,” you say. “But you’ve spent enough time with Annabeth to know what she’s capable of. Imagine dealing with a whole cabin of Annabeths.” 

“You may have a whole cabin of Annabeths, but I’ve got a whole cabin of thieves, pranksters, and unclaimed kids. I think I’ve had my fair share of cleaning up messes.” 

“Alright, pretty boy,” you say, your smile growing despite yourself. “Ease my worries.” 

Luke nods, and he sits up so he can be eye level with you. He’s still got your wrist in his hand, and as he talks, he absentmindedly trails his thumb over your skin. “Yesterday was the last day of summer, and half of camp is gone, including your cabin. We spent the entire day fixing things up and making sure all our siblings were ready to go and doing everything Chiron and Mr. D asked. Everyone that wanted to leave left, all the counselors—including you—executed everything flawlessly, and there is nothing left to do but relax for a bit.” 

“My cabin—” 

“You’ve already cleaned it three times,” Luke says. 

“It doesn’t hurt to do it a fourth,” you shrug. 

Luke smiles and shakes his head. “It’s spotless, ace. The only thing left to do is enjoy some well-deserved alone time.”  

You meet his gaze, that slight smile still on your lips, and Luke tilts his head. “So? Have your worries been eased?” 

“...Mostly,” you say, and your smile turns coy. “Some kisses might help me forget them completely, though.” 

Luke laughs, and his eyes gleam as they drop down to your lips for a moment. He brings you even closer with the hand still around your wrist, then he drops it in favor of slinging an arm around your waist. When he speaks, his voice is much softer, though it’s got a rugged edge.

“Now that is something I can do.” 

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Epilogue

Summary: Joel had always been the one. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: None! Enjoy whatever comes! A/N: So, here we are at last. The final goodbye to one of my favorite pairings :') It is so bittersweet to end their story, but I am so thankful you all have supported it and loved it along the way! Tommy & Beth's story will be coming soon, so I hope you guys stick around for it! All my love, xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Sarah!” You called from downstairs. “We need to leave soon so we aren’t late!”

“Coming!” She shouted back.

You could hear her footsteps shuffling across the loft, no doubt in a rush trying to find her backpack. It was the first day of school, and you were the brand new eighth-grade teacher—totally not because you wanted to keep teaching Sarah before high school. 

The three of you had spent the summer in a whirlwind, between camping trips and helping Joel work on a business plan for his own job. You even took a small trip to Boston to see your family; you needed to get the closure you deserved finally. But you couldn’t think about that trip now; you needed Sarah to hurry up.

“Joel,” you grumbled. “Can you please get her down here?”

Joel was leaning against the kitchen counter, his coffee mug half-full and lifted to his lips. He rolled his eyes at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. 

“I got it, baby. Go get your ass in the car, and I’ll make sure she has everythin’ together.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips before slinging your bag over your shoulder. A large hand closed over your bicep, and Joel yanked you back into his broad frame. 

“No y’don’t. Give me a real kiss,” he chuckled.

He pressed a hand into your lower back, holding you firm to his chest as he bent down to kiss you. You deepened the kiss, your tongue overlapping his with a soft whimper off your lips. Joel swallowed every noise and pressed you against his lips for as long as he could.

“Grossssss,” Sarah groaned, startling you both.

You jumped back from Joel’s embrace, staring at Sarah with an embarrassed smile. 

“Can you guys not do that? At least wait for the wedding.”

Joel barked a laugh, kissing your cheek with wet lips before pushing you out of the kitchen. 

“I can kiss my future wife all I want, sweetheart,” he protested. 

Future wife. 

You loved it when he said that. You loved it even more when he was pinning you to the bed and whispering it in your ear as he fucked you. Lazy strokes and sweet words… The thought alone had you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt. 

Joel didn’t waste a moment proposing after you moved in. He and Tommy had snuck away one Saturday to a jewelry store to find the perfect ring, and he proposed that night. The tiny diamond sat snug on your finger, the gold band reflecting the sunlight every time you admired it—which you did a lot.

You and Joel were still working through the mess created after your accident, but there was no question that you’d marry him. At least you knew he wouldn’t run from the wedding; the thought of it happening kept you up some nights. 

Both you and Sarah arrived at the school with only ten minutes to spare. She’d be in your final class for the day, so you parted ways and made your way to your new classroom. Joel had helped you set up your room over the last week, hanging the posters you couldn’t reach and remaining adamant about keeping you from any possible chance of falling. God forbid you hit your head again; it wasn’t something you liked to think of often. 

Walking into the classroom, you quickly set up your lesson plans and placed worksheets on each desk. The first week of school would be the easiest for you and the students. A slight tap on the door jolted you from rushing around, and you looked up to see Maria sheepishly standing in the doorway.

“Welcome back,” she said. 

Neither of you had spoken since the end of the year, and you still weren’t sure what to say. Joel had explained to you that Maria wasn’t entirely at fault for anything; she only meant to care for you and keep you company throughout the years between. At the start of last year, he mentioned that he considered going after you, which was why Maria was always so pushy about talking to Joel. And she had, in fact, been the mastermind behind ‘Happy Hour’ when Joel showed up. 

You couldn’t stay mad forever, even if sometimes you desperately wanted to. Anger was all you had known for months, and you worked hard to replace it and battle through it as the summer went on. But right now, you could put that aside and at least be cordial with Maria. 

“Thank you, Maria.” You gave her a tentative smile. 

“Can I come in? I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you before the day started, and I was hoping we could chat.”

You nodded, motioning to one of the desks. Maria entered the room and leaned against the edge of the desk, waiting for you to settle into your chair. You tried ignoring the emails that continued to chime on your computer, attempting to give her your full attention, which she deserved. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I had no intention of lying to you, but I only wanted to see you happy. After the accident, it was so hard for me to lose you in the way I did. Giving you a place to live after your breakup with Bennett and seeing you meet Joel… Then nothing. I cared for you like a daughter and wanted to continue being there for you.”

“I know you did,” you sighed. “It’s been hard having to adjust after regaining my memory, and it’s taking a lot out of me to try to work through it all. I hope you know I appreciate all the care you’ve shown me. Before the accident and after. I just needed time to process it all.”

“If you ever need anything, sweetie, you know I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

You reached your arms to hug her, and Maria took the opportunity without question. Her warm embrace was enough to bring you to tears; you did miss her—a lot. Pulling away, you lifted your hand a little to show off the sparkle on your ring finger. 

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, grabbing your hand.

You laughed at her excitement and allowed her to admire the ring on your finger.

“The wedding is next month,” you told her. “Joel and I would love for you to come if you would like.”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I want to come!”

She pulled you in for another tight hug, muttering a litany of ‘thank you’s.’ Eventually, the school bell rang, she ran out of the room, and you settled back at your desk for the beginning of the day. 

Not even two minutes after the final bell rang, Sarah was barreling into your classroom with a big smile. You had just seen her in the third hour during her own class, but her excitement never failed to make your heart swell with happiness. 

“Ready to go home, kiddo?” You chuckled.

“So ready! I think Dad is cooking us dinner, and I’m starving.”

You ruffled her curls softly before tucking her under your arm and leaving the classroom. The person you were last year—before remembering everything—would have never allowed this to happen. Dating your student’s father was out of line and, quite frankly, not your forte, but this was an exception. A very necessary exception. 

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you heard your phone ringing in your purse. Sarah was quick to retrieve it, staring confused at the caller ID. 

“Who is it?” You asked, glancing away from the road.

“Aunt Beth.”

Shit.

Things hadn’t been great between you two since the trip back to Boston over the summer, but it was better. If you sat in silence long enough, the bitterness and anger returned in full force. Joel was your voice of reason, calming you down from the resurgence of emotions and always quickly reminding you of Beth's work to fix the relationship. You only hoped they weren’t empty promises and she would prove herself to be who she was before the accident.

“Here, let me see it,” you said, extending your hand.

Pressing answer, you held the phone to your ear and hoped Sarah didn’t see the trembling in your fingertips.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, sis,” Beth said. It was easy to hear the frustration in her greeting.

“Everything okay?” You asked. 

You came to a slow roll at the red light in front of you, relaxing your white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Sarah rubbed an assuring hand over your arm, and you turned to give her a sad smile. She was like her father, so receptive and aware of your emotions.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I just… Do you want me there? Are you sure?”

“At my wedding?” You questioned. “I already told you I wanted you there. I extended the invite to the entire family, including you.”

“I know, but being your bridesmaid feels wrong.”

A car horn blared behind you, and your eyes snapped up to see the green light staring down at you. You inhaled sharply and pressed the gas. 

“Joel and I already talked about it, and we both agree not having you there would be something I might regret one day. I want you and Stell both up there with me.”

“You’re sure?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Yes, Beth. I’m sure. Now, are you flying out on the day of the reception or the day before? I just need to make sure your hotel room is booked and set up before you get here.”

“I’ll fly in the day before with Stell. I think Mom and Dad are coming the day after.”

“Okay, good. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. Just please promise me you’ll be there.”

“I promise, sis,” she sighed.

You rounded the corner into the neighborhood and pulled up to the house. Joel’s truck was already parked in the driveway, his truck bed overflowing with work tools and wooden planks. You nodded at Sarah to head in while you finished the phone call—you needed a moment alone before going inside. 

“I just got home, Beth, so I’ve got to run. I’ll send you the information for the hotel and everything, okay?”

“Wait, before you go,” Beth hesitated. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m still really sorry,” she admitted. “About everything.”

You scrubbed a hand down your face, holding back a wave of tears that threatened to break your composure. Beth wasn’t one to show her emotions or speak them this freely. Her vulnerability was something you were still adjusting to, among everything else. 

“I know you are, sis,” you exhaled. 

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye before the phone line went dead.  Resting your head against the steering wheel, you let the tears run down your face. It was hard to control your emotions these days, and today was no different. Between seeing Maria and talking to Beth, you were exhausted. The wedding planning hadn’t been stressful until now, but knowing Beth was having second thoughts about even coming? The stress was starting to creep in.

A light tap on the window jolted you from your tearful silence. You turned your head to see Joel standing outside the door, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Seeing him was the final nail in the coffin, and you lost it completely. He was quick to yank the door open and wrap his arms around your limp body. 

“Sarah told me Beth called,” he confessed. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this isn’t easy.”

You clung to his shirt, nestling your head into his neck. The work day still lingered on his skin, the smell of fresh wood and sweat flooding your senses. He smelled like home. 

“Am I making the wrong decision?” You choked out. 

Joel’s grip tightened around you, his sturdy frame grounding your emotions to cascade into. You fell victim to your cries, your tears dampening the cotton tee he wore. 

“You’re makin’ the mature decision, baby,” he stated. “It took a lot for you even to see them this summer, but the wedding will fly by, and this can all be put behind us.”

“I just don’t want to be let down again,” you cried. 

“No one's gonna let you down. I’ll make sure of it, ‘kay?”

You peeled yourself away from him, wiping away the tears that trailed down your cheeks. Joel’s brown eyes softened as he took in your fragile state, his lips turning down. Cradling your head in his hands, Joel brought your forehead to his lips for a comforting kiss.

“Hey, I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Y’know how I feel ‘bout you sayin’ that, baby,” Joel grinned.

The slight shift in the color of his eyes was warning enough to make your emotions skyrocket in a different way. You gave him a shy smile before pecking him on the lips and jumping out of the car. Joel quickly wound an arm around your front and hauled you back to him.

“You’re lucky we got dinner on the table,” he whispered in your ear. “Punishment’s gonna have to wait ‘til later.”

“Punishment?” You echoed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, dragging his mouth over the shell of your ear.

You shivered at the touch, your body molding against his. Leave it to Joel to always turn your mood around; it’s what you loved about him. The worst days could be changed in minutes, and you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with him. You also weren’t afraid to rile him up, too.

Shifting your body slightly, you brushed your ass against the crotch of his jeans, rewarding yourself with the hardening bulge of his cock. Joel groaned at the brief touch, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” you giggled.

 You repeated the motion, Joel’s body tensing behind you.

“Oh gosh,” you feigned distressed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re gonna regret that, baby,” Joel growled. 

With a sharp smack on your ass, Joel urged you toward the front door—not before readjusting himself several times before entering the kitchen. 

Sarah had long gone to bed by the time you and Joel retired to your room. You took time showering and readying for bed while Joel sprawled against the sheets. Peeking around the corner, you caught a glimpse of his body, nearly naked, except for a pair of black boxers. It still didn’t feel real that you had found your way back to him, and it especially didn’t feel real that you’d be marrying him in less than a month. 

“I know you’re starin’ at me over there,” Joel chuckled.

You emerged from behind the door, a grin on your face. Joel propped himself against the headboard, his hands locked behind his head and his biceps flexing slightly. 

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m allowed to admire my handsome future husband.”

“Get your ass up here, baby.”

You happily obliged and jumped onto the bed, straddling his waist as you bent down to kiss him. Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he deepened the kiss, his hand carding through your hair to anchor you closer. 

“If I’m not mistaken,” he muttered between kisses. “Y’said somethin’ earlier that you shouldn’t have.”

You trailed your lips down his neck, humming softly with each press of your lips.

“I did?” You teased.

“Three times,” Joel groaned. 

His fingers laced tightly between the tendrils of your hair, pulling your head up until there was nowhere to look but into his dark eyes. The swell of his pupils had replaced the soft amber colors of his irises, a mischievous look flashing across his face. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, baby. You’re gonna slide that beautiful body up here and ride my tongue ‘til you cum three times.”

“Three?” You repeated, your eyes growing wide.

Joel huffed a laugh and hooked his arms under your thighs. You fell forward, your hands bracing onto the headboard. Joel lucked out with you already being bare under your t-shirt; it was easy work for him, especially when you were already drenched with arousal. A small swipe of his nose over your throbbing clit was enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth. 

“Bite your lip and stay quiet for me, baby,” Joel mumbled. “Can’t wake up Sarah with all your noise.”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel flattened his tongue against your entrance and licked a long, slow stripe through your wet folds. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he had instructed, you bit back a desperate whine that threatened to escape. You rolled your hips slightly, the pointed tip of his tongue dragging over your aching bud softly. The fire crept through your veins, catapulting you closer to the edge as Joel’s jaw worked relentlessly at your leaking entrance. 

“Joel,” you whispered, a faint whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh,” he hummed.

The low vibration of his hush radiated through your pulsating clit, forcing you to jerk away from his mouth. His calloused fingers dug further into the skin of your thighs, anchoring you down onto his face. His tongue worked faster at your clit, stroking it with tantalizing flicks of his tongue. Flames burst through your stomach with each move of his mouth, your thighs quaking in his grip. So close… you were so close. Joel felt it, too, and latched his mouth around the sensitive bud.

“Joel!” You cried, the orgasm barreling through your body. 

He didn’t let up, his tongue dipping into your entrance and lapping at the juices leaking from you. Your hand shot to the curls at the crown of his head, tugging him off of your sex, your body still twitching from the aftershocks of your climax. 

“That was only one, baby,” Joel muttered into the flesh of your inner thigh. 

He pressed wet kisses against your skin, working his way back to your center with small kitten licks over every inch of you. Your thighs clenched around his face, framing him perfectly between your legs. You glanced at him only to find his dark eyes staring at you. The air knocked out of your lungs, seeing him under you in such blissed-out beauty. Joel shifted his face up, revealing his arousal-coated mustache and wet plush lips. 

“Y’gonna give me two more?” He asked, his mouth curving into a grin. 

You nodded vigorously, guiding him back to your swollen bud. Joel rested his tongue over your center, nudging you silently with a slight tilt of his head. Dragging your hips forward, you lowered yourself onto his open mouth. Back and forth, you moved against his tongue, tremors wracking through your limbs with each pass. 

“Joel! I’m gonna—.” You choked on your words. 

With one hand grasped on the headboard and the other tangled in his sweat-soaked curls, you bore down and let your second orgasm surge through your body. Biting your lip did little to help the cry of pleasure that escaped your mouth. You lifted yourself from his face, attempting to unlatch yourself from his tight grip. 

“Nuh uh, baby,” Joel protested, his voice husky. “One more.”

“I can’t,” you whined.

You stumbled over his body, collapsing into the bed beside him. Joel rolled over you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. The lower half of his face was coated in your arousal, his chin and beard glistening in the dim lights of the bedroom. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. The sweet smell of your arousal hit your nose as his mouth collided with yours. Joel groaned against your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider. You tilted your head to give him better access, your tongues dancing in unison in a heated kiss. 

You felt Joel’s hand slide between your bodies, his body shifting slightly as he pushed down the boxers from his waist. The weight of his heavy cock rested on your thigh, and you hooked your leg higher to give him access to your dripping sex. 

“Got one more in you, baby?” Joel asked, his mouth roaming down your neck. 

“I think so,” you said, your voice shaky. 

Joel suctioned his lips to the hollow of your neck, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You gasped at the intrusion, your body adjusting to the girth of his cock as he split you open. Joel carded a hand through your hair and glued his eyes to yours as he thrusted into you slowly. Your bodies moved in a simple rhythm; when he drove into you, you careened back. Soft cries and heavy grunts, each of you flowing in perfect harmony. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Joel whispered.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you panted.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the swell of release at your fingertips as Joel speared into you deeper with each cadence of his hips. You were overstimulated and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but you wanted to come undone with him. You wanted to fall over the edge together; you wanted this moment to be something you shared. Lifting your mouth to his ear, you whined softly, garnering a low growl from his chest. 

“I love you.”

Three simple words. It was enough to send Joel over the edge, his body tensing above you as he drove into you one last time. Your sex clenched around his cock, milking him through his release. His cock dragged against the aching walls of your sex as he pulled out, his body resting heavily on top of yours. With his head pressed to your heaving chest, you ran your fingers through the dark curls resting at the base of his neck. 

“You tired?” You laughed softly, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Joel argued.

“Get some sleep, handsome. I love you.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

He nuzzled further into your embrace, a soft yawn exhaling from his mouth. You smiled to yourself, reveling in the fact that this was your life. Here, at this moment, everything you had endured was worth it. It was worth it knowing someone inexplicably loved you. Someone who wasn’t going to leave, no matter how hard things may be. Joel fought tooth and nail to have you back, and you learned to forgive his faults. His patience and unwavering love were enough to battle any doubts that lingered in your mind.

He was yours, just as much as you were his. 

**

Outside your bridal suite, storm clouds swirled in the sky. You had watched the news channel praying for a sunny wedding day all week, but the Texas weather laughed at your pleas. The thunderstorm looming in the distance was only the tip of the iceberg in your ever-growing levels of anxiety.

“Sis, it’s gonna be okay,” Beth urged. 

Beth and Stella were the only ones in the room with you, and they both sat at the edge of the bed, watching you helplessly pace the floor. You itched to undo the tight bun your hair had been wrangled into, the pain of each bobby pin shooting another jolt of pain into the onset headache forming in your head. 

“What if he doesn’t show? What if Joel doesn’t want this? What if—?”

“Oh my God, stop!” 

It wasn’t Beth that cut off your rambling, but Stella. She wasn’t one to raise her voice often, but it was enough to halt your frantic thoughts. You threw yourself onto the chair in the corner of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. Stella rose from the bed, carefully sidestepping the hem of her silk bridesmaid dress as she waltzed to where you sat. She lowered herself to her knees and stared up at you with pleading eyes. 

“Joel loves you, sis,” she stressed. “He’s not going to leave you. All of these pre-ceremony jitters will go away the second you walk down that aisle.”

“But—.”

She held up her hand in protest, shaking her head sternly. 

“No more of that. You are going to put on your dress and get ready.”

You glanced at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the door. The white fabric was a haunting reminder of the rain-soaked dress you had worn only years ago, dirtied by the mud and broken hopes left in Bennett’s wake. You chewed at your lip to stifle back a cry, your brain ready to disintegrate with all the pressure building inside your head. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the admission frightening you. 

Beth groaned, leaving the bed to join Stella on the ground. You had spoken little since she came into town, sharing only a few shallow words in passing when necessary. But the seriousness in her eye ignited a new wave of fear; her words could slice you clean through if you let it. Saying your name softly, Beth clasped a hand around yours and inhaled a sharp breath. 

“You can do this, and you will. I know you’re scared, but Joel is waiting for you. He’s been waiting for you for years, and he’s not going anywhere. Trust me when I tell you no one in this world loves you more than he does, okay?”

A tear slipped down your cheek at Beth’s words. The way she spoke of Joel was night and day from how she spoke of Bennett. Her words regarding Bennett had been laced with venom strong enough to poison even your happiest memories—whatever those had been. They were fighting words, and each punch was perfectly placed. With Joel, she only spoke with sincerity. Both she and Stella had been there to see Joel at his worst after the accident, watching the life he had made with you crumble away within the hospital. They had been there to experience his grief firsthand, and that was something you could never argue. Joel held a special place in both of their hearts, a bond you couldn’t remember but couldn’t deny. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, burying your head in your hands. You threw caution to the wind when it came to ruining your makeup. It was a lost cause at this point. 

“Hey, come here,” Beth whispered. 

She hauled you into her arms, wrapping herself around you. Stella followed her lead, both huddling around you as you cried quietly. Time had stolen so much from you, time you couldn’t get back with your sisters. Putting everything aside, you sat in the moment with them and let their strength hold you up. 

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, peeling yourself away. “Can you both help me get into my dress?”

Stella squealed excitedly, hauling herself up and hurtling toward the door where it hung. Beth gave you one final squeeze and a quiet “I love you” before joining Stella. 

You discarded your robe on the bed and stood awkwardly before them in your bridal lingerie. Both of them whistled at you provocatively, their eyes growing wide. You blushed at their giddiness, motioning for them to bring the dress to you. The three of you worked silently as you slipped into the tulle fabric. Beth worked at zipping up the back while Stella secured the gossamer sleeves over your shoulders. The fabric was cool against your skin, a welcome reprieve from the warm anxiety that simmered below the surface. You were ready after a few final touches on your makeup and the clasping of your heels. 

“Breathe, peanut,” your dad whispered in your ear. 

The bouquet in your hand was shaking from the trembling in your fingers. You stared through the glass door into the open courtyard where everyone sat, the sky darkening by the minute. In the distance, you could spot Joel's outline as he stood under the floral arch above the altar. He was right there…waiting. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” the wedding planner said, grasping the door handle before you. 

You turned your head to look at your dad, his features soft and emotional. If he cried, you’d soon follow, and you couldn’t ruin your makeup again. You squeezed his arm and nodded to the wedding planner. 

“I’m ready,” you whispered. 

With a gentle push of the door, you stepped over the threshold and into the humid air of the early evening. The soft crescendo of the Wedding March began to drift through the open space, and your friends and family all turned to stand. Your eyes shifted side to side, looking down each row at the warm smiles in your direction. Maybe if you didn’t look down the aisle, the fear of Joel running away wouldn’t come true. Look anywhere else. Your steps faltered, and you felt a wave of anxiety assault your nerves. 

“He’s waiting for you,” your dad mumbled. “Look up.”

You lifted your head and found Joel watching you with the brightest smile. His hair was tamed and slicked down with gel, and his beard was trimmed short—but still patchy in small areas along his jaw. His broad frame stretched out the black suit that was tailored perfectly to his body, and something about the refined look on him made your heart leap. If you weren’t already breathless, seeing his eyes stole any air left in your lungs.  Joel’s brown eyes sparkled with fresh tears under the gray skies. Not even the darkest storm clouds could darken the amber flecks glimmering in his irises. 

As you neared the altar, you also realized his hands were trembling. His fingers fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt, and his body shifted from side to side as he waited for you. The music drifted to a close as you finally approached the altar, just inches from Joel. He didn’t run. He was standing right there. 

You turned to your dad, giving him a tearful hug and a quiet thank you. Joel stepped forward to give your dad a firm handshake, a warm smile gracing his face. As they said their final words to one another, you handed off your bouquet to Beth, who stood behind you, along with Stella and Sarah. Sarah’s cheeks were damp with tears as she grinned at you brightly, her skin radiant in her green dress. You blew her a kiss and turned back to Joel. 

“Y’look so fuckin’ beautiful,” he exhaled, wiping a tear from his face. 

“And you look extra handsome,” you grinned.

Joel chuckled, clasping his hands around yours. Your fingers squeezed around his knuckles, and your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the rough skin of his hand. The officiant beside you cleared his throat, and you and Joel turned your attention to him. 

“Family and friends,” he began. “Thank you all for joining us today for this wonderful union of love.”

The officiant's words faded into the background as you stared up at Joel, capturing this moment in your memory. Years of loss, pain, and grief all led you to this moment—right here. With Joel’s hands wrapped around yours and his loving smile shining down on you, it was all worth it. 

“I understand that you both have written your own vows,” the officiant said, interrupting the flood of emotions inside you.

Beth tapped you on your shoulder, handing you the small paper you had scribbled your vows onto that morning. 

“Okay,” you sighed. You smoothed out the paper in your hand, your eyes hardly focusing on the words before you. 

You opened your mouth to speak but paused as the first drop of rain splattered across the ink. A laugh bubbled out of you as you tilted your head up toward the sky. Rain misted your face, the slow sprinkle of rain dampening the ground around you. 

“Would y’look at that,” Joel laughed. “It’s rainin’ on us, baby. I think that means it’s good luck, right?”

You beamed at him, watching the raindrops catch onto his thick eyelashes. Crumpling the paper in your hand, you let it fall to the ground and composed yourself. Joel lifted his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Joel Miller,” you started. “I can say, without a doubt, I was always meant to be with you. From the moment I ran into you, literally—.” You laughed at yourself. “I knew it would always be you. Even when time and differences separated us, a part of me knew I was missing something. You and Sarah were the missing pieces that made me whole. And I’m so thankful that the universe conspired to bring us back together and lead me home. I vow to you, Joel, that every day will be filled with memories we remember.

 I vow always to make you smile. I vow to always annoy you with my late-night conversations about books and poetry nonsense you most definitely have no interest in. I promise to stand beside you on the soccer fields, cheering on our girl through every win and loss. I vow to you, Joel Miller, to never leave and to always work through the hardest obstacles. Together.” 

“I love you so much,” Joel whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

You lifted a finger to wipe them away, your hand resting against his cheek. Joel sniffled back more cries, shaking out the rain clinging to his hair. 

“Alright, guess I gotta try and beat that now,” Joel joked. 

He crumpled his vows, the paper floating onto the wet ground where they melted into the rainfall. Joel barely managed to choke out your name before succumbing to tears all over again. 

“Man, this is hard,” he huffed. “I ain’t sure how y’did all that without losin’ it, baby.”

“You’ll be just fine, Joel. I’m right here,” you assured. 

He spoke your name again, this time only faltering at the end. You gave him an encouraging smile, your hand still caressing his face. 

“I can’t tell you enough how lucky I am that you’re in my life,” Joel began. “I ain’t ever felt a love like this, and I ain’t ever wanna lose it. I’m not a many of many words, at least not where it counts, but havin’ you by my side makes every single day brighter. There ain’t no better happiness than seein’ your smile every day or seein’ you be the mother to Sarah that she always deserved. 

Y’make me the proudest man alive, and I vow always to love you and care for you in every single way. I promise to read all the books y’read. I vow to remind you which cereal we buy at the grocery. I vow to stay truthful and always love you no matter how hard things may get. It’s you and me, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You got me ‘til I stop breathin’.”

You were the one crying the hardest now—a vow of all vows, spoken upon the altar that had always haunted you. One thing remained true in the weariness and uncertainty of the last several years: Joel was your steadfast. He was the constant that worked against the odds and continued to fight for a love you had since forgotten. Through the heartbreak, grief, and endless nights alone, you now had the one man the universe had created just for you. 

I love you, you mouthed. You couldn’t trust yourself not to entirely wither into a heap of sobs as his vows sunk further into your heart. 

“Now, if we may have the rings,” the officiant urged.

Tommy handed the ring to Joel while Sarah stepped forward to give you the wedding band you both had picked for her dad. 

“Thank you, kiddo,” you whispered, bending down to hug her. 

You and Joel repeated each word the officiant said, slipping the wedding bands onto each other's ring fingers. The rain was coming down harder now, pelting your face in wet splashes and rolling down your bare neck. Joel’s suit was soaked through, yet he didn’t care. Neither of you could stop smiling. 

“With the power invested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Miller! You may now kiss your bride.”

“About damn time,” Joel snorted. 

His hands swept under your shoulder blades, dipping you low as he bent to kiss you. The moment his wet lips touched yours, everything became a reality. Joel was your husband. You molded your body into his embrace, your arms winding around his neck. He kissed you recklessly as if no one else around you existed. And truthfully, the world could have collapsed around you, and you would never have known it. You wanted to remain in his arms for eternity. 

This was your home. He was your everything. 

The reception had drawn into the late hours of the night, and the buzz of a few drinks had your body relaxed and at ease. Whatever stress you had before the ceremony it had long since vanished, swept away with the rain as it continued to pour from the sky. The train of your dress was stained brown from the mud, yet you didn’t care. It was a memory of the day, and you wanted to keep it with you forever. 

“One last dance?” Joel asked, extending a hand to you.

You rose from your seat, placing your hand in his. Somewhere during the night, Joel had discarded his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Seeing him this dressed up was far more dangerous than you expected; you craved to undo every button traveling down his torso and strip his tailored pants right from his muscular legs. But those tempting thoughts would have to wait till later. 

Half the attendees had left for the night, leaving only your family members and a few friends still scattered around the ballroom. As Joel swayed your bodies to the music, you caught wind of an argument drifting through the music. Turning your head over your shoulder, you watched Beth and Tommy go toe to toe in a standoff. 

“Do you think we should go calm them down?” You asked. 

Joel glanced towards his brother and shrugged.

“M’sure they’ll sort their shit out, baby. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from enjoyin’ this night with you.”

“You’ve seen Beth when she’s angry,” you reminded him. 

“And y’know how grumpy Tommy can get,” Joel countered. “They can handle themselves.”

You both moved to the music in silence; your eyes settled on one another as you spun in slow circles. Joel hooked a hand under your knee and dipped you, only to pull you up just as quickly to crush his lips to yours. 

“When can I take y’home?” He muttered between kisses. “I’ve been dyin’ to take that dress off of you all night.”

“As soon as this song ends, I’m all yours,” you smiled. 

Joel’s brown eyes darkened under the twinkling lights, and dimples appeared on his cheeks as he grinned at you. 

“Baby, you’ve been mine from the start.”

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.

“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.

How did I end up working here, of all places?

Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.

The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.

It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.

But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.

“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.

“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.

“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.

You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.” 

“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”

Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.

Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage. 

“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.

“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.

A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.

Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.

He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”

“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.

A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.

“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point. 

“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.

“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.

“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.

“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.

“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.

When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.

Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere. 

By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride. 

“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.

You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them. 

Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know. 

Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.

You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.

You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.

Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.

Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable. 

I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.

Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual. 

—----

Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.

“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.

“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.

There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.

It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.

“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.

“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”

You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”

“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.

“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.

You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.

“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.

Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.

“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.

“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.

For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.

“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.

“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.

“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”

“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”

“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.

“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.

“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.

“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.

Shit! I’m gonna be late.

With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.

The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.

You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.

Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”

“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.

“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.

“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.

“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.

You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.

That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body. 

—-------

As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.

Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.

Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.

“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.

Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.

“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.

“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.

Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”

Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”

“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.

You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.

I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.

You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.

An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.

Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet. 

Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you. 

The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in. 

So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.

You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.

“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.

“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.

“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.

“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.

“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.

“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously. 

You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.

“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.

That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.

John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.

What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.

“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.

That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.

“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.

“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.

Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.

John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least. 

While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.

“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.

“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.

“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.

“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.

Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.

“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.

You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”

“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.

You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.

“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.

Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”

You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”

“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.

Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.

You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.

“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.

“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.

“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.

As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.

There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.

Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that. 

“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.

“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.

Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.

“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.

“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.

So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about. 

“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.

You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.

The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.

Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.

How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right? 

You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.

Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

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[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist

[kings-highway]

this has been in my drafts since April and I cant remember if I'd just planned to go back to it and add more or smth but thats never gonna happen so

Asanoya traveling the world together headcanons:

- Nishinoya is about 90% in charge of their destinations but Asahi books flights/train tickets because Noya gets overwhelmed at all the options and half the time books something that drops off nowhere near their destination

- While Noya tends to be more social and will strike up a conversation with everyone they meet to learn their life story, Asahi is usually people's favourite and he'll get invited to dinners and events like 20 seconds after meeting someone because they just think he's "such a nice guy". Noya can't leave him alone without some local trying to take him away to give him a private tour of whatever site they're at

- Asahi loses weight while traveling because he is not food-adventerous at all and struggles to appreciate local cuisine or customs when it comes to eating unfamiliar products. Noya worries about this so much that it almost ruins the trip for him in particularly off-the-grid locations, because Asahi would never dare complain out loud and Noya has missed the fact that he hasn't eaten properly in a few days before. He is so unbelievably guilt ridden over this that he's started keeping a stash of protein bars and other dense snacks as a mandatory pre-trip checkbox.

- Noya is really good at picking up beginner-level language skills so he gets pretty good at navigating wherever they go. Asahi has never successfully learned another language beyond "hello," "thank you," and "sorry."

- Although they like the luxury of a nice hotel on occassion, they both really enjoy staying in hostels and getting to meet other travelers. It gives them ideas for their next destination.

- They end up in Brazil one summer and follow a goddamn easter egg hunt about a beach volleyball legend only to finally solve it and find Hinata just standing there waving excitedly. Honestly in hindsight they should have seen the signs. Hinata is very excited to show them how to play and then is absolutely shocked to see them absolutely nail the first point without issues. "Oh, I guess we didn't mention, we spent a few months in Portugal and learned it there."

- They bump into a lot of the other globetrotting characters. They're especially fond of the chocolate shop Tendou apprentices at, but had to learn his schedule to go in to avoid running into him because he scares them still.

- Whenever they return to Japan to connect with all their old friends they end up doing like a 2h ted talk going through all their stories and best moments.

- Asahi is the first to "retire" the traveling bc he gets a hoity job at a design company and needs to be able to work consistently. Noya insists he could probably design shirts from a beach but to each their own.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Have Love, Will Travel | kingsofeverything | [97k] Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series. It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

everything of mine is yours | blueskiesrry | [33k] "Did you two have a good time?” Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm. “Yeah,” he says. “We did.” or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Sweeter Than I Ever Knew | mandylynn4 | [32k] Harry has spent his heats alone since he's presented, but his roommate, Niall, is convinced that he needs to try out The Agency - an app that lets alphas and omegas partner for heats. Unsure, he signs up and goes through 5 heats with different alphas. Some are good experiences, others are awful. But, in the end, he finds that his heats with the right alpha can be sweeter than he ever knew. TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 2 - READ TAGS!!!

Cuddlebug | sun_flowr | [19k] When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

My Lungs Don't Breathe (don't want any kind of life without you, dear) | red_panda28 | [5.6k] Suddenly a cough bubbled up in his lungs and he froze. Laying in his palm was a single flower petal, pastel pink, and velvet soft. The first thought that struck him was well, guess I am in love with Louis. Then another realisation hit. It also meant that Louis didn’t love him back. OR Harry falls victim to the Hanahaki Disease after meeting Louis, Louis has his own secret, and Zayn is a good friend

Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) | red_panda28 | [3.5k] Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles. Harry Styles, his former bandmate. Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years. Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles. OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

It's written all over your... (or: the Red Carpet fic) | BlueNeptuune | [11k] The star-studded cast of Steal My Girl graced the red carpet on Saturday night ahead of the premiere screening, sparking an internet sensation like no other. The film itself received an average of 4-and-a-half stars from early reviews, launching it into the spotlight as a contender for the up-and-coming awards season, but the real news came from the carpet itself. Oscar-winner Louis Tomlinson (Kill My Mind, Back For You) made his first public appearance following the badly-hidden split from his management in early 2020, and he wasn’t exactly keen to talk about it. It was also the first time since his earliest work (Still The One is featured on our summer-vibes throwback list) that he’s attended the carpet by himself – rumours swirled that he’d split with his long-time girlfriend, but are the two things related? Tomlinson himself wasn’t spilling any tea, but it looks like one journalist in particular might have coaxed a little more out of him than anyone else...

Sweet Mondays | sweetkalachuchi | [3.5k] Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have ended their marriage; neither of them knew the other would be at the Euros. Niall was there too. And there was only one bed.

Get Him Back | softfonds | [17k] After finding out his husband was unfaithful, Harry does one thing that makes him feel good again. But it's up in the air if that one thing will stay.

Wild at Heart | She_bear | [50k] Louis is a lost soul, sailing around a remote archipelago in the Philippines when he makes a surprising discovery. A castaway fic ___________ "Like the island itself, he was a quite bewildering and ever changing landscape of beauty. Nothing was the same now Louis was here. The placid solitude to which Harry had grown accustomed had been replaced by fun and exquisite physical pleasure. By conversation, affection and connection. And with that all his peace was lost."

Sugar, Sugar | parmahamlarrie | [25k] Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website. Louis isn’t waiting with bated breath for his soulmate either. He has more important things to worry about than love. Mainly, his career as a writer, publishing under a pseudonym. He spends most of the year buried under research and manuscripts, taking as much time as he would like, much to his publishers' chagrin. After receiving many millions after the death of his Aunt Ethel when he was young, he technically never has to work again. As far as soulmates go, he figures if it happens, he will be so old that he’ll be stuck in his ways. Or he’ll have grey eyes forever, he doesn’t fucking care. He can get his needs met through a sugar baby website. Or… The Sugar baby soulmate AU

The Cottage | HoldingOnToChaos | [70k] Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed. -- Or Louis has severe touch deprivation and Harry has a hazelnut farm.

The Capillaries In My Eyes Are Bursting | 5secsoflarry | [14k] Two armoured palace guards stand there, speaking with the old, widowed beta. Harry watches curiously from the space in the back, ducking down a little in an attempt to hide. There have been whispers through the town of omegas being gathered and forced to the castle all week long - something about the King being ill - but Harry had thought they were only rumours….. OR Medieval times where King Louis is in a near death accident and enters a coma. The royal doctor says they have two weeks to find Louis’ true soulmate (omega) or he dies.

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 4 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Dresses, sails, and thunderstorms oh my! You and Aemond are forced to work together and tensions rise.

word count: 6.4k

rating: Mature

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, angst, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, kissing

note: hope you enjoy my loves!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected

You spent the days after you and Aemond’s conversation at the Wolf Den trying to avoid the Targaryen as much as possible. Which was much easier said than done. Both of you spent generous amounts of time helping Luke with Seasmoke, bickering with each other more than actually being helpful. 

“If you just let me do it-” you’d said, grabbing the paint roller from him.

Aemond had pursed his lips together in annoyance. “Like you could reach with those short legs-”

“Don’t talk about my legs!” you’d angrily hissed, “Don’t look at them, don’t think about them!”

“Believe me I’m not-”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You change your mind?” he’d asked, a sly grin on his face that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

“Get fucked,” you’d told him.

“Seems like you need it more than I do.”

Aemond had walked away from the interaction with paint splattered across his chest. 

Needless to say, the tension between you two was palpable. Even Baela had begun to notice it.

“You really hate him, huh?” she asks while holding up a dark blue dress and looking in the floor-length mirror.

You, Baela, and Helaena had traveled into the city for the day, shopping for dresses for the gala. Though Baela already has a dress picked out, she can’t stop eying the one she currently holds. You’ve been looking at dresses for the past half an hour, unsure of which you like best. 

Helaena’s the one who is truly enjoying herself, trying on various lengths, designs, and colors.

“Who?” you ask, picking out a gold dress. It’s nearly perfect, except for its ruffled collar with matching sleeves. You scrunch your nose with distaste, returning it to the hook.

“Aemond,” Baela says, dropping to an ottoman and pulling out her phone, “You seem to really bring out the worst in each other.”

“I don’t hate him,” you assure her, “He’s just….annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she says, scrolling through Instagram, “Can’t argue with that.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you think back to your conversation with him at the Wolf Den. Was he seriously proposing a no-strings-attached situationship with you? And more importantly why? Though you can’t deny your curiosity. Floris Baratheon was clearly not happy that she wasn’t Aemond’s fuckbuddy anymore.

You’d run into her again a few days ago at the country club and the cheerful prom queen facade had been replaced with a much icier one. Clearly, she thought you and Aemond had something going on. Great. 

“Oh shit,” Baela says suddenly, eyes going wide.

“What?” you ask, still flicking through gowns.

“Nothing,” she says, pressing her phone against her chest. 

You tilt your head to the side as you turn to face her.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Bae!”

You reach for her phone, trying to wrestle it from her grip. Helaena rounds the corner, a dress in her hands before seeing the scuffle and turning quickly away. You grab Baela’s phone, even as she continues to insist you shouldn’t look.

It’s Will Tyrell’s Instagram, a group picture on a boat. He looks good; shirtless, wearing a captain’s hat with his arm slung around a pretty blonde.

Fuck.

Baela’s eyes are apologetic. “I didn’t know he was seeing-”

“Whatever,” you tell her, giving her phone back, “It's fine, it's cool.”

“Are you sure?” Baela says, chewing her lip nervously, “Cause you just-”

“Bae,” you tell her, laughing slightly, “I had one conversation with the guy. I don’t own him.”

“Still,” she says, eyebrows concaving together, “Will is a nice guy. Nice guys don’t give their number out and then run off with CeCe Lannister-”

“Wait, that’s Cece?” you ask, “Cece rosebush burning Lannister?”

Helaena has reappeared, dressed in the gown she was previously holding, and rolls her eyes.

“Why do I keep hearing her name?” she grumbles, “You know, you say it again and she’ll appear. Like Beetlejuice.”

Baela holds the phone out and Helaena raises an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Baela says shaking her head, “No one disses my girl like this!”

“Please, there’s no way they’re a thing,” Helaena says, smoothing her dress and turning toward the mirror to admire herself, “Tyrell and Lannister just don’t match.”

Helaena’s dress is beautiful; a strapless, silvery blue color that falls just below her knee. 

“Cute,” Helaena says to herself, turning to the side to admire the curve of her ass, “Seriously, Y/N, shoot him a text.”

“You think I should?” you ask as Helaena bends over. Baela reaches over giving her ass a slap that makes Helaena yelp.

You shrug taking out your phone and sending a message. You watch the screen as the read receipt appears, along with three gray dots. You can’t help but smile, nibbling on your lower lip. 

“He’s typing,” you tell them, happiness swooping through your belly.

Helaena smirks. “Told you!”

Two hours. You’ve been left on read for two hours. 

God fucking dammit. 

Helaena’s smile is apologetic from the rearview mirror as she catches your eye. It’s the twelfth time you’ve checked. Those three little dots appeared and disappeared with no response from Will. 

“Guys are drama anyway,” Baela had said, “Who needs them.”

Easy for Baela to say. The girl hasn’t had a dry spell in years. But since your last one-night stand back at Honeyholt, you hadn’t hooked up with anyone else. And that was a while ago. Snow was on the ground. And you just couldn’t help but get your hopes up slightly with Will’s flirtation. No matter what the case, the rejection still stung. 

Baela could tell. She turns to you from the passenger side, peering over her sunglasses.

“Listen to me,” she begins, “You’re a bad bitch. If Will Tyrell can’t see that, then it's his loss.”

You roll your eyes.

“I know,” you tell her, “It’s fine, seriously. I barely know the guy.”

Baela goes to say something else when her phone begins to ring. She holds it up and you just make out the name Dad when she answers it.

“Yeah?” she says, her voice cold. You can hear the deep voice of Daemon Targaryen on the line as Baela removes her sunglasses, tossing them onto the dashboard. 

Helaena glances at Baela before turning the radio down. You’d been seriously vibing to Phoebe Bridgers. Baela brings a hand to her face, rubbing between her eyes. It’s a nervous habit of hers, one you often see when she’s got a big paper due or during finals season. 

“I don’t know, Dad,” she says with a sigh, “I’m…okay. Yes. I understand.” She bites her lip. “Of course I do. Yup. Yeah, bye.” You faintly hear Daemon’s voice say something along the lines of love you before Baela hangs up the phone. 

You don’t speak for a moment, driving in silence except for the low volume of Savior Complex humming through the speakers. 

“Everything okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah,” Baela says, running a hand through her curls, “Would you be cool grabbing dinner with Hel tonight while I go to Dragonstone?”

You reach out to touch her shoulder. “Of course.” 

“Ew no,” Helaena jokes, smiling at you through the rearview, “I actually can’t stand Y/N, you can’t leave me with her.”

“Hurtful!” you tell her, putting a hand on your chest in fake shock. Helaena snickers, but Baela barely cracks a smile.

“Rhaenyra wants dinner,” she tells you both, “With the whole family.”

A chill runs through you. While Baela had evaded dinner with her father due to the storm over a week ago, he clearly the kind of man who gets what he wants. 

“Well not the whole family,” Helaena argues playfully, “Cause that always goes oh so well.”

Baela groans, placing her feet on the seat, and holding her knees against her chest. 

“Trade places with me?” Baela begs her and Helaena shakes her head.

“Someone would notice cuz,” she says with an apologetic grimace, “Though maybe if I curled my hair?”

That earns a laugh from Baela, and she rubs her eyes. 

“This is gonna suck,” she moans.

“Probably,” Helaena agrees, and you smack her shoulder lightly, “But you’ll get through it. You always do Baela-boo.”

Baela drops her hands from her face, looking at Helaena. 

“Oh my god stop,” she says, though she’s smiling for real now.

“What?” Helaena asks innocently, “You don’t remember Baela-boo, and Rhaena-roo?”

“And don’t forget Helaena-hoo,” Baela says with a giggle, before turning to face you, “My mom…those were her nicknames for us. She thought she was so clever.”

“Which she was,” Helaena says, grinning, “Best nicknames ever. The boys were so jealous.”

“It was for the girls only,” Baela said, her smile full of emotion, “Laena-loo…Nyra-noo.” She clears her throat, looking down at her lap, “Silly.”

Baela Targaryen is one of the strongest people you know, in more ways than one. Your heart hurts watching how her lower lips wobbles as she plays with the rings on her fingers. 

“It’s adorable,” you tell her, smiling at your best friend fondly. Baela misses her mom so much, you can tell. 

“I think we can bring them back,” Helaena says with a nod, “Sure, we were nine when they were cool, but I think they hold up!”

Baela laughs and wipes a tear that’s fallen down her cheek. You squeeze her shoulder before giving her a hug, wrapping your arms around the passenger seat and her. It’s awkward, but Baela grabs your arm anyway, resting her chin on your forearm. 

“Oh, I love this song!” Helaena says, turning up the volume as the next song begins to play. 

You swing by Helaena’s house to drop off your dresses. She insists Alicent will want them dry-cleaned before the gala. After that, you decide to head down to the docks to see how the gang has been doing with Seasmoke that day. 

You hadn’t expected they would get a lot to get done in your absence. Rhaena had been tasked with babysitting the littles on Dragonstone while Rhaenyra and Daemon saw Jace off. He was headed on a solo sailing trip to the Vale and would return in a few weeks, just in time for the regatta.  Daeron had made his departure for Oldtown a few days ago, and Luke was clearly lost without his friend. 

“Get anything good done?” Baela hollered up to the boys from the dock. 

It looked like they were tidying up for the day, but Luke seemed agitated. Aegon was first to exit the ship, flashing a cheeky grin as he passed. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Luke says, running a hand through his curls, as he walks down the ramp. Aemond follows close behind, an exasperated expression on his face. You’ve been here two minutes and are already annoyed with him.

“What?”

“Jace ordered the sails from Iron Islands, but they arrived at Pyke and need to be checked out tonight before Greyjoy ships them here,” Luke tells you. 

“I’m not seeing the issue,” Helaena says, “Pyke’s a lot closer!”

Luke nods dramatically, tongue between his teeth. You think his right eye twitches.  

“I can’t go to Pyke because of the stupid dinner!” he says, face flushing, “Goddammit!”

“Hold up, calm down. It's okay, Aegon will go,” Helaena offers. 

Aegon frowns. “No, I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he answers, walking down the dock. 

Luke holds his arms out in frustration and Helaena looks ready to chase her elder brother off the dock. It’s like Aegon senses her glare, burning into the back of his head because he quickens his pace.

“Okay, then I’ll go,” Helaena offers, but Luke winces, “What?”

“Umm, no offense Hel…but I want someone who…you know…” he trails off, muttering something about ‘knowing how sails work.’

Helaena rolls her eyes before letting them land on Aemond. He tenses, standing up straighter, sensing the direction this is headed. 

“No,” he says immediately.

“Yes,” Helaena counters. 

“No.”

“Yes!” Helaena insists, “Aemond this is your fault, you fix it.” 

But Luke is shaking his head, eyes wide with panic.

“No way!” Luke argues, “He’ll sabotage me again, probably tear the-”

“Y/N will go with him!” Helaena offers, much to your surprise.

“What?” you and Aemond ask simultaneously. You shoot him an annoyed glare which he returns with one of his own.

“You’re unbiased, you’ll represent Luke and make sure Aemond’s not fucking around with anything,” Helaena says, “Come on it's perfect.”

Luke’s mouth twists into a frown, but he doesn’t disagree. You raise your eyebrows to your hairline. 

“Seriously?” you ask through clenched teeth. 

Helaena wets her lips nervously. “Look, Pyke isn’t that far. You can’t kill each other in that amount of time, I promise.”

“Oh, really? Can’t you come with us?” you beg, eyes wide. But Helaena shakes her head.

“Can’t, the bike only seats two,” she tells you with a shrug. 

Your heart drops into your stomach. “Bike?”

“This is your ride?” you ask, as Aemond leads you into the garage.

Of course, stupid Aemond drives a stupid motorcycle. The bike is huge, shiny, and black, gleaming in the streams of sunlight that come through the garage doors. 

“No, I’m stealing it,” he deadpans, holding out a helmet for you. 

“So funny,” you tell him, snatching the helmet from his hand. He’s got big hands; while he could hold the helmet in one of his hands, it takes both of your own. 

Aemond puts his own helmet on, straddling the bike before looking back at you.

“You getting on or what?” he snaps, patting the seat behind him.

“I’m going!” you tell him, hurrying to clip the helmet on your head. Your hands fumble with nerves, and you keep missing the clasp. You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Straddling the back of Aemond Targaryen does not seem like the greatest idea for your first ride.  

Aemond groans, beckoning you forward with his hand. You scoot closer and he brings his hands to the clasps. You swallow, feeling his fingertips caress the skin under your chin as he secures the helmet. Your heart beats frantically in your chest as your eyes meet his. 

“You couldn’t figure that out?” Aemond insults and the spell is broken.

“Fuck off Targaryen,” you snap, getting on the back of the bike. 

The drive isn’t that long, but it scares the shit out of you. Aemond is a reckless driver. Though you wanted to remain cool, calm, and collected for the whole ordeal, you find yourself clinging to his back desperately, nails digging into his leather-clad pectorals as you press your face against him. He smells pretty good, an enticing mixture of cologne and the leather from his jacket. 

He weaves through traffic like a man who doesn’t fear death, going over the lines and in between cars. Several people honk at him, one man even leans out his car window to shout obscenities. By the time you reach Pyke you’re trembling like a leaf. 

Aemond turns off the bike, and you don’t release him. 

“Hello?” he asks, turning slightly.

“Don’t!” you squeak, eyes still shut, “Don’tdon’tdon’t-”

“We’ve stopped,” he assures you, “Don’t be a baby.”

You open your eyes slightly, and once you see that you’ve safely stopped, unwrap your arms from around him, standing on trembling legs. You unbuckle the helmet tossing it to the side, as Aemond gets off the bike, using his foot to flip the kickstand.

“You asshole!” you yell as he removes his helmet, running a hand through his hair. His grin is impish as he takes in your flustered expression.

“What?” he asks, placing the helmet on the seat of the bike.

“You’re insane!” you accuse, crossing your arms. 

“That’s unkind,” he muses, “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Do you even have feelings?” you quip and Aemond pokes his tongue against his cheek. You turn away from him, beginning to walk toward the small shop that lies next to a dock lined with sailboats. 

You can hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. 

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumble and he chuckles behind you. 

Dalton Greyjoy greets you once you’re inside, the owner of Iron Sails in Pyke. A smaller location than Iron Islands. 

“The best in the west,” he boasts, grinning from ear to ear. His face is weathered from the sun and the sea. 

You and Aemond check over the sails three times, making sure everything is in order for them to be shipped to King’s Landing the following day. 

“Big beauty Seasmoke is,” Dalton muses, “You don’t see sails this size anymore.”

“Luke’s been working really hard,” you tell him, smiling politely, “He loves sailing.”

“That he does,” Dalton agrees, patting you on the hand. He pulls away, nervously glancing at Aemond. He’s been a little too friendly with you this afternoon, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

You’re actually thankful Aemond is here with you. Dalton clearly thinks you’re together, which is why his advances haven’t gone much further. Scary boyfriend privileges without the boyfriend part. You hope Aemond doesn’t notice but of course, that isn’t the case. He points it out as you’re leaving.

“He was awfully friendly,” he comments, handing you your helmet. You place it on your head. 

“Whatever,” you tell him, but before you can reach for the clasp, Aemond’s hands are there already. He clicks the strap into place adjusting it under your chin. Your cheeks burn and you blink rapidly at the kind gesture.

Aemond breaks away from your gaze looking up at the sky. The wind has begun to pick up and the air has a sudden chill to it.

“We better get going,” he says softly, “Storm’s coming.”

You barely make it back to King’s Landing when the rain begins to turn into a downpour. Aemond must have a remote control clicker for the five-car garage, because it opens automatically, sending warm light onto the driveway as you skid inside.

Even though the sky had just opened, you’re already soaked as Aemond shuts off the bike.

“Shit,” you curse, taking off the helmet.

The walkway is already flooding with water. Your eyes widen as lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

“There’s no way you’re making it to Driftmark,” Aemond muses, removing his own helmet.

Baela was supposed to swing by after dinner and grab you before returning to the island for the night. You reach for your phone, seeing a missed text from her and Helaena.

“What is it?” Aemond asks, stripping off his leather jacket. 

“Um, just Baela spending the night on Dragonstone,” you tell him.

Aemond shakes his head, “I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

“And Hel’s at Sara’s,” you finish. You watch him, neither of you moving.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head towards the door to the house. The garage doors begin to close behind you as you follow him inside. 

The house is dark and Aemond turns on a light in the kitchen as you enter.

“Mom?” he calls, “Aegon?” There is no reply. 

Aemond checks his own phone before shaking his head. 

“They’re not here?” you ask.

“Aegon’s god knows where,” Aemond grumbles, sliding his phone into his back pocket, “Mum’s out. Just us.”

Just us.

You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond scratches the back of his neck, eyes falling to the floor. You glance around the room, eyes falling to the empty podium that once held the bust of Maegor Targaryen. 

Aemond moves to sit on the couch and you follow him. It’s large enough to fit several people and you sink into the cushions comfortably. Aemond leans back spreading his legs wide and placing his arms on the back of the couch. You can just spot his silver chain poking out from underneath his black t-shirt. He nearly catches you looking as he glances your way.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Helping with the auction stuff. She does a lot of volunteer work at the country club,” he tells you.

“That’s nice of her,” you tell him. 

“Mhmm,” he answers. 

It’s awkward, with nothing to bicker about. You find yourself wanting to fill the silence.

“Where do you go to school?” you ask, removing your shoes and tucking your feet up on the couch. 

“Citadel University,” he answers, to your surprise. Of course, he’s from CU, as all pretentious rich assholes are. 

“Figures,” you say with a snort, “You know what Honeyholt calls you?”

Aemond purses his lips, nodding for you to continue.

“Cunt university,” you snicker, even though it's not that clever. 

“I see why you go to Honeyholt,” he says smirking.

Your jaw drops.

“It’s a great school,” you argue.

“Sure,” he mockingly agrees, and your blood begins to boil.

“What are you studying anyway?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“Double major. History and philosophy,” he quips, “And yourself?”

“I’m undecided,” you tell him. 

“You’ve got lots to figure out,” he says, holding your gaze. Your face warms, butterflies gathering in your belly. 

Aemond doesn’t look away. His hand outstretched on the back of the couch suddenly seems too close like he could reach out and touch your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, laughing a little as you say it, “What’s your deal anyway?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head.

“This whole, thing,” you hold your hand up, referring to him, “The dick-sona.”

“Dick-sona?” he asks, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“What’s got you so fucked up?” you ask, “There must be a reason you’re so…”

“Forward?” he finishes your sentence for you. You hold his gaze. 

He’s thinking of the other night too. You can feel it. His proposition weighs heavy between you.

“Yes,” you agree.

“I just know what I want,” he tells you, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

You watch him, knowing there’s more to it that he’s not sharing. There’s a reason he’s being like this, keeping you and everyone else, at arm’s length. But you’re not going to push, no matter how curious you are. If Aemond Targaryen doesn’t want to share, that’s fine with you.

“Yeah,” you tell him, the back of your neck tingling, “So…”

“I can show you the guest room,” Aemond says suddenly, “I mean, who knows when the rain will let up. You’ll want to get some sleep if Baela’s coming for you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding, “That sounds good.”

You follow Aemond up the winding grand staircase, listening to the sound of rain pounding down on the windows. He leads you down the hall, opening a door revealing a large queen bed with a white comforter and several decorative pillows. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, heading further down the hall.

He disappears through another door, coming out with a black shirt in his hands. He holds it out to you. 

“Here,” he says, “If you want to be more comfortable.”

You take it from him. “Thank you.”

He hums in response and you back into the room.

“There’s a bathroom too if you want to shower,” Aemond tells you as you nod. 

“Um goodnight,” you tell him, pressing your lips tightly together as you close the door. 

Holy shit.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Stuck in King’s Landing. Alone. With Aemond. Your mind is racing, so you decide to take a long, cold shower to erase any dirty thoughts from your mind. 

It’s not like you can fuck him. Right? The guy doesn’t even like you. You check your phone once you’re done with your shower. Yup. You’re officially spending the night. And no text from Will. Left on read. AGAIN.

You slam your phone with a groan. Fuck it. Maybe sleeping with Aemond isn’t the worst idea. Maybe you do just need to get laid. Help each other out, as he said. You chew your lip nervously.

You hold the shirt up in front of your naked form. It’s huge, clearly his. You bring it to your nose, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and his cologne. It’s the same scent you smelled as you rode on his motorcycle, cheek pressed to his back. Expensive. Musky. Notes of amber. Fuck. 

You slide it over your head, and it falls in the middle of your thighs. No panties though. You sleep without them anyway so what’s it matter? You hop over to the bed, sit on top of it, and cradle one of the soft feather pillows in your lap. You can’t help but nervously chew your lip, thinking of Aemond down the hall. 

Screw this. 

You get up, tossing your pillow behind you, and head toward the door. Throwing it open you’re shocked to see Aemond already standing in front of it, hand raised as though he was going to knock. You release a startled squeak, stumbling backward on the balls of your feet. 

Aemond’s eye runs over your wet hair and scantily clad form, causing warmth to gather on your cheeks. You can’t help but do the same, eyes roaming the form-fitting white t-shirt he wears, down to the grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and back up to that fucking silver chain he wears. 

“Hey,” he says, wetting his lips, “I was just-”

You interrupt him with a chaste kiss on his lips. You pull away quickly, lips tingling. Aemond blinks as though he’s trying to process what just happened. Then, a smirk curls onto his handsome face, and he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle before reaching down, grabbing the back of your neck, and pulling you towards him. 

“I fucking knew it,” he growls.

He connects your lips, kissing you deeper this time; his tongue slipping through the seal of your lips with ease. Aemond’s hand remains firmly on the back of your neck, long fingers curling around your throat while the other reaches to slam the door shut as he backs you into the room. Then he’s on you, pawing at your waist, reaching down to cup the swell of your ass, and squeezing so hard you gasp into his mouth. 

He’s a good kisser, much to your disappointment (well not really, deep down). You had hoped he wouldn’t live up to the cocky attitude he wears like armor.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, between kisses, his voice rough and seductive, sending a rush of warmth between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, feeling the sharp point of his nose press against your cheek.

“Super sure?” he breathes, lips ghosting against yours. He tastes like peppermint, like winter in the city.

“Yes,” you repeat, lips hungrily chasing his own in a desperate kiss, “I want you to fuck me, Aemond.”

He groans as you say it, pushing you back against the bed until your knees bend and your back hits the mattress. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist as he climbs on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. His lips are so soft and warm, you nearly whimper just from making out with him like it's your first time again. 

You can feel him smiling against you as you drag your hands underneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen flex underneath your touch. He breaks away for a moment, holding himself above you with one hand, using the other to pull his t-shirt off his body, throwing it to a corner of the room. 

You move to remove your own shirt- well his shirt- tossing it in the same direction. Aemond eyes your breasts hungrily, wasting no time bringing his mouth to your taut right nipple, swirling his tongue over the bud and sucking. You can feel the cool metal of his chain dragging across your breast, the juxtaposition driving you crazy.

You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder, and dragging them down his back harshly. Aemond gasps slightly, releasing your nipple and moving to the other, beginning to palm at the abandoned breast. His hand travels lower, slender fingers dragging down your sternum, over your belly button, and down toward your wet center. You can feel how drenched you are already, the stickiness that has formed between your thighs. You lift your hips, desperate for some friction, anything. 

Aemond’s fingers part your slick folds, barely touching you, just enough to make you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

“Fuck,” he moans, jaw slacking, “You’re so wet.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as you throw your head back against the pillows. Aemond smirks, sliding down your body to seat himself between your legs. 

“All talk,” he muses, pushing your legs back against the mattress.

You’re spread out for him like a feast. He curls his fingers into the meat of your thighs, before bringing his mouth to your left one. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the smooth skin, sucking harshly. You’re tingling everywhere, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes as he moves to do the same to your opposite thigh. 

He kisses the delicate flesh where your thigh meets your hip, dragging his lower lip against it as he looks up at you. His violet eye is hooded, the pupil dilated with lust. Aemond grips your right thigh, pulling you toward his face with ease, his nose bumping against your clit, causing you to jolt. 

“Aemond,” you whimper, and he moans in response.

“Oh I like that,” he murmurs, letting his tongue dart out to taste between your folds, “Say it again.”

Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, fire erupting in your belly with every swipe of his tongue against your slick folds. 

“Aemond,” you whine once more, “Oh fuck.” He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling on the sensitive nub, tongue flicking out to caress it. His eye watches you the entire time, studying your way, the way you react to each gentle flutter of his tongue. 

Your toes curl and your legs tremble at his attention. Fuck. Holy shit this is good. His tongue dips lower, momentarily abandoning your clit to prod at your entrance. Aemond releases his grip on your thighs to bring his hands to cup under your ass. He lifts you off the bed slightly, angling your upwards and plunging his tongue inside you.

A strangled cry leaves your lips as he works the smooth, wet muscle against your clenching walls. He moans as you cry out, squeezing your asscheeks harshly as he moves his face up and down, grinding his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. You’re nearly there, legs tingling with your impending orgasm, when he lowers you to the bed.

He replaces his tongue with his fingers, easing one slender digit into your throbbing core. Aemond finds your G-spot with impressive precision, stroking the rough patch in tandem with the movements of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” you squeak, abdominal muscles clenching as he slips a second finger into your tight, wet heat. He crooks his fingers, pulling his mouth away from your clit momentarily to watch them slide in and out. 

“You like that?” he asks roughly, chin glistening with your slick.

“Yes,” you answer, a broken cry, “Fuck just like that-”

“Just like this?” he teases, pressing his opposite palm on your lower abdomen as he taunts you, “Yeah, that’s good, huh?” 

The added stimulation on your g-spot makes your vision blur as he drops his head to mouth your clit once more. The noises leaving your mouth are uncontrollable at this point, and you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed because it feels too fucking good for you to care.

Your legs shudder and you tangle your hands in his hair as your walls clench around his fingers and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. You feel a rush of wetness as you finish, hear the squelching of Aemond’s fingers and the low, throaty moan he releases as he continues his ministrations with his fingers and tongue so you can ride out your orgasm. 

When your limbs have stilled, Aemond eases his fingers out of you, crawling on top of you once more, kissing you ferociously. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants and you move quickly, mind clouded by lust, fingers dipping below his waistline and freeing it. It's hot and heavy against your hand and you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You’re kissing him still, fuck you like kissing him, so you can’t see how his cock looks. 

But you feel it, as you stroke down the shaft. It just keeps going. 

You blink, pulling away from his lips, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking harshly in the smooth skin of your throat. You glance between you and him, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. Long, pale, and slightly curved upwards. Aemond Targaryen is well endowed. Aemond Targaryen has a perfect fucking cock.

This stupid bastard. 

You almost want to roll your eyes in frustration but then he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and any thought of annoyance with the man on top of you fades from your mind. 

“I have a condom,” he murmurs through a moan as you continue to stroke him. 

“Do you want me to…” you begin, wanting to return the favor.

“Not tonight,” he tells you, kissing your lips, “Let me be inside you.”

“Yes,” you agree, bucking your hips desperately, “Please-”

Aemond sits back on his haunches, reaching for his discarded sweatpants. He smirks while removing a condom from the pocket. He tears the foil with his teeth, sliding it on his length. 

“Please?” he teases, imitating you slightly, “You want my cock that bad?”

You’re breathing heavily, and nod. Aemond leans forward, his arms forming a cage around you. He guides his cock toward your center, dragging the tip through your slick folds. 

“Say it,” he demands, voice low and commanding.

“Please…I want your cock,” you whimper, cheeks aflame.

Aemond grins.

“Fuck that’s good,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss as he presses into you.

The delicious stretch of his cock steals the breath from your lungs as you adjust to his size of him. Your walls spasm, pussy fluttering desperately as he sheathes himself completely in your tight, wet heat. And then he’s rolling his hips, dragging his cock out to the tip and slamming back into you and you lose your last thread of sanity. 

Aemond pounds into you with long, hard, even strokes. The bedframe shakes, and he reaches up, holding the headboard to support himself as he thrusts into you.

“So fucking good…” he moans, “Perfect fucking pussy…fuck I knew you’d be perfect..”

You moan at his words, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Aemond hooks his free arm under your lower back, lifting your lower body off the bed. He’s so deep inside of you, the curve of his cock sliding against your G-spot perfectly with each thrust. It’s hard and dirty and you’re living for every second of it, pleasurable tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. 

Aemond’s jaw is slacked, eyes glued to your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he delivers. He slides his hand down from your back, releasing you down onto the bed and sliding your leg over his shoulder. The new angle has you spilling moans and whimpers with every thrust, causing an open-mouthed smile to appear on Aemond’s face.

Cocky bastard. And he was right. He is that fucking good. Especially as he brings his hand to play with your clit, the pads of his fingers working lazy circles around the sensitive button. 

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his tone tantalizing, “You know you want to. Be my good little girl, yeah?”

“Fuck fuck!” you cry, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around his thick cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as you fall apart for the second time with a cry, “Oh she’s a good girl after all, huh? Just needed to be fucked real good.”

“Oh shit!” you cry as he continues thrusting into you, the overstimulation making you see stars.

“Gods this perfect tight little pussy, fuck,” he moans, stuttering as he finishes into the condom. He kisses you as he cums, tangling his tongue with yours, dragging another moan from your throat.

Aemond stays inside you a moment, before unsheathing his cock. He rolls next to you, removing the condom and throwing it into the trashcan. He turns back over to you, pulling you against him. You’re dazed, blinking sleepily as his fingers stroke your upper arm. 

“You need to go to the bathroom,” he murmurs, “And have some water. Then we’ll lay.”

You turn your face to him.

“Didn’t think you’d be into aftercare,” you tell him.

“It’s important,” he answers immediately, “For the chemical balance in your brain.”

“Okay Bill Nye,” you tell him, rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

You return a few moments later, climbing back into bed with him. He’s gone under the covers and you snuggle up next to him. 

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends with benefits,” you tell him, cheek pressed against his chest. Aemond releases a hum, the vibrations moving through you.

“Why not?” Aemond asks, fingers playing with your hair.

“We’re not friends, for one,” you tell him, bringing your hand to the one of his that lays on his stomach. You stroke your pointer finger over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. “And you’re annoying and irritating.”

“So?” Aemond asks, as though the statement doesn’t bother him in the slightest, “I just fucked your brains out.”

You feel the heat returning to your cheeks.

“I assume you enjoy getting your brains fucked out?” he asks, moving his hand to lace his fingers through his.

It’s your turn to hum in response.

“Alright,” you tell him, sitting up, “But if we’re doing this, we need some ground rules.”

“Perfect,” he says sitting up, “I agree.”

But just then, your phone lights up on the nightstand. You frown, reaching for it. You can still hear the rain and thunder outside, so you assume it's not Baela or Helaena. Your eyes widen when you read it. 

“Oh shit.”

note: I just can't keep things uncomplicated can I?? its a curse

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Incantation

@wolfstarmicrofic June 1, word count 855

A continuation that is definitely going to end up as a mini-series, (I can't help myself 🤣) of Summer Camp AU. It's been taking up space in my head since I wrote it and I need to write more so here we go 😁

First part

As they neared the wiggling legs, Sirius rushed forward and launched himself onto the back of a tall raven-haired boy with glasses. He wrapped his legs around his waist and demanded a piggyback.

“James, come meet Remus,” Sirius told James as he tried to turn the boy’s head away from the upside-down legs. James turned around and grinned a broad smile at Remus. 

“Hi, Remus, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. This is Peter,” he pointed at the base of the willow tree. “He’d say hello as well, but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.” James and Sirius burst into laughter as the feet kicked out angrily and a muffled voice shouted at them. Remus could only guess that it was a stream of profanities aimed at James. 

“Hi,” He said, shyly. He wasn’t used to talking to people his own age. He didn’t have any friends, and he’d spent most of his childhood talking to nurses. 

“Remus, you look like a smart fella,” James began speaking to him again, the smile on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture. “We really don’t want to have to go tell Minnie we did something dumb again, so do you think you could help us pull Peter out?” Remus looked at the slightly pudgy boy in the ground and hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough. He’d always been frail, it was only recently since the doctors finally figured out what was wrong with him that he’d started to put on muscle mass. 

“I’ll-I’ll try,” He moved towards Peters's bottom half and inspected the hole. “I think we might need to dig a bit of the edge out, widen the hole. Maybe soften the soil with water.” He mused aloud.

“Remus, I think we’re going to get along famously,” James said as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It took everything in him not to flinch away from the touch. 

“Let the poor boy go,” Sirius grunted as he pulled at James’s arm. They ended up tumbling to the floor as Sirius looped his foot around James’s leg, trying to find purchase. 

Once they’d dusted themselves off, they started working on freeing Peter. Sirius had found a sturdy stick that he was using to gently poke around where Peter was stuck, dislodging pieces of earth. James poured three bottles of water over Peter, and they grabbed Peter’s legs. 

Remus and Sirius had the left one and James had the right on his own. He tried not to think about how close Sirius was to him.

“Right ready? On three. One. Two. Three!” They heaved and he didn’t budge an inch. “Damn it! He’s not coming loose!” James huffed as he loosened his grip on Peter’s leg. 

“That’s because we haven’t said the incantation.” Sirius raised his stick, pretending it was a magic wand. “Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” He chanted and slapped the stick across Peter’s arse. The ground vibrated with Peter’s angry yelling. 

“Sirius!” James chastised. “Okay, let’s try again. On three. One. Two. Three!” They pulled as hard as they could and, with a grunt, Peter came loose. James helped him to his feet and tried to dust him off. Peter flapped his arms at James, slapping him away. 

“Thanks for getting me out,” Peter finally said as he rubbed dirt from his eyes. “Remus, you’re my new best friend.” Remus didn’t know what to say to that, so he just bobbed his head.

“What is all the commotion going on over here?” A stern voice said behind them. There were suddenly four very straight backs. 

“Minnie, my love, nothing’s going on. I’m just introducing Remus to everyone.” Sirius turned to look at the woman standing behind them and took on a relaxed stance and plastered on the most dazzling smile Remus had ever seen. 

“Mr Black, I have warned you about calling me by that name. It is Minerva or Ms McGonagall.” Sirius didn’t seem the least bit put off by her words. “Why exactly is Mr Pettigrew covered in dirt?” She asked, her nostrils flaring. 

“I’m sorry Ms McGonagall,” Peter began, apologising, “James and I were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention and fell in the hole. James, Sirius and Remus helped me out.” He smiled weakly at the second in command of the camp. 

“Uhuh,” She hummed, clearly not believing a word. “Mr Lupin,” She said, turning to Remus. He bristled at being addressed. “Welcome to Camp Hogwarts, I advise you not to get in too deep with these miscreants.” Sirius and James dramatically feigned outrage. She smiled warmly at him, ignoring James and Sirius. “If they give you any trouble come and find me.” She glared at the other three and spun around to yell at another group of boys dragging bedsheets around the camp.

“Don’t worry, Remus,” Sirius grinned at him. “We’re not that bad.” Remus followed the three boys into the cabin, thinking maybe the two weeks wouldn’t be quite as bad with the four of them. That was when Sirius turned around and winked at him. He felt his stomach flip. Or not.

Next part

[sitp-recs]

Thank you so much for your recs—they are fantastic! I wondered if you had any for Draco and Harry becoming friends at (and eventual lovers) at Hogwarts (doesn’t have to start with 1st year, but can!). Thank you!!

Hi there! Happy you’re enjoying the recs 😊 I got a couple recs, the majority is 8th year since I don’t really read canon rewrite AUs. I hope you enjoy these!

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn (T, 5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Good Company by Greenflares (T, 8k)

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry's return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn't exactly fun. Somehow, it's his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Stand Back: I'm About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries (E, 10k)

A new Muggle Studies professor takes the Eighth Year students to work on an archaeological excavation. In which Draco is lazy, Harry is sweaty, Hermione is drunk, and Ron turns red.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Makes Me Stronger by Lomonaaeren (E, 29k)

Rita Skeeter’s Harry James Potter: An Unnatural History is a best-seller, mostly due to the fact that Skeeter’s collaborated with a photographer who’s infused the pictures in the book with Harry’s actual memories. As Harry struggles to survive the storm consuming his eighth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy becomes an unexpected ally.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup. In which Harry is Hogwarts' star Seeker, Draco is on the bench, and they both have a thing or two to learn about playing for the same team.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 67k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Helix by Saras_Girl (E, 93k)

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (E, 114k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

[atimeofyourlife]

The day before Christmas, a day to forget

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: birthday | rated: t | wc 970 | cw: reference to neglectful parenting | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, surprise party Steve never got to celebrate his birthday, on account of it being Christmas Eve. He doesn't even tell people when it is. Eddie is determined to find out his birthday and make it a good one.

Birthdays had never really meant much to Steve. It was something that everyone else had, but not him. Well, he did have a birthday, but he never got to celebrate it. Christmas Eve. His family telling him that it was too close to Christmas, that he didn't need two days of presents back-to-back. If he was lucky, he might get a card or a small gift from other relatives, his grandparents or an aunt, but nothing much.

It felt worse once he was at school, making friends. Seeing everyone getting a day to celebrate them, getting presents and cake and everyone making a fuss of them. It made him feel left out and resentful of his parents. He asked again why he never got to celebrate his birthday, again getting told that it was too close to Christmas. And getting told not to be greedy.

In high school, Tommy and Carol decided to celebrate his 'half-birthday' in June. But that was more of an excuse to throw a huge house and pool party in the middle of summer. A chance to get drunk, to do anything they could without getting in too much trouble about it. No one ever remembered that it was supposed to be about Steve's birthday.

So, by the time he was sixteen, he stopped bothering. If anyone asked, he didn't celebrate his birthday. He wouldn't even tell people when his birthday was. For his seventeenth birthday, he got to spend the day with Nancy and her family. He didn't tell her what the day was, but at least he wasn't alone for once. For his eighteenth, he was alone again. Telling the kids wasn't even on the cards. He knew that Hopper was aware of it from when he'd seen his license in the past, but he didn't bring it up.

His nineteenth birthday, he spent it working with Robin. He hadn't told her, but it was great getting to spend the day with his best friend in the world. He was even going home with her and spending the night, so they could be together the next day. Her parents knew he didn't have a great relationship with his family, so they invited him to spend Christmas with them.

Twenty was another year of not celebrating his birthday. But they barely celebrated Christmas. Too focused on trying to defeat Vecna to do anything special. They took the just long enough to have a meal together, the same as they did on anyone's birthdays. It just wasn't possible to do anything more.

Twenty-one was the year it changed. Mid-September had Eddie asking him about his birthday.

"I asked the kids, but they said you don't celebrate. Robin and Nancy said the same thing. Come on, Stevie, you can tell me." Eddie tried to bug it out of him.

"Eddie. I don't celebrate. Nothing you say is going to change that. I don't have good experiences with my birthday, so I don't like to think about it. I won't be doing anything for it, so just leave it." Steve replied.

December came around, and no one else mentioned anything about it. No one brought it up at all. Steve was thankful for that, saving him from awkward and difficult conversations. Christmas Eve, his birthday, came around and it was quiet and peaceful. There were plans for the evening, for everyone to have their Christmas get together, before them having the next day with their families.  Steve drove himself over after work, as he was the only one on shift. It was being held at Joyce and Hopper's place, and Steve was quite looking forward to it. When he got there, he noticed that most of the painstakingly hung lights on the outside of the house were off, which felt unusual, but he tried not to think too much about it. He knocked on the door and waited.

"Steve, hi. Come on in, we're all down in the basement." Joyce said as she opened the door.

"Thanks Mrs Byers." Steve replied, hanging up his coat before heading down the stairs to the basement. The lights were dimmed and there were no Christmas decorations around.

"Happy Birthday, Steve." Everyone shouted, and Steve stepped back, unsure of what to make of it. He'd never seen anything like it before, especially not for him.

"What? Why? How?" He was almost speechless, it all so overwhelming.

"We all knew you never talk about your birthday, and figured that there must be a reason why. We found out when it was, so we figured it must have been something to do with being close to Christmas." Eddie explained.

"I. I don't."

"Steve, we all love you, we want to do this for you. Eddie was the one that put us all up to this, to find out your birthday and have a reason to celebrate it. You do so much for everyone else's birthdays, you deserve the same amount of care and love." Robin added, coming over to give him a hug. "If you really hate your birthday that much, we can forget this, and go upstairs and have the Christmas party like we told you."

"It's. My parents told me that it's too close to Christmas, that I don't need two days of presents so close. That I would be greedy if I expected people to celebrate my birthday in the middle of the Christmas season." Steve said quietly.

"That's bullshit. You deserve a birthday as much as everyone else does. It's not your fault when you were born. Now, come on. We've all got presents for you, and there's cake. Mrs Henderson made your favorite black forest cake." Eddie replied.

Steve smiled, feeling the love and warmth from everyone around him. Maybe his birthday was something he could celebrate, after all.

[alchemistc]

(dys)functional | bucktommy bonus chapter

an: Everyone else seemed just as enamored of Evelyn Carrini as I was when I made her up, so I thought I'd piece together all the random notes app thoughts I had about her an Tommy in high school into something that wasn't a disorganized half bullet list/half snippet-fest.

read on ao3

He’s halfway through homeroom when he notices it. The whispers, the side-eyes, the covert little looks shot in his direction when they think he’s not looking. The problem is that Thomas Kinard has spent the first seventeen years of his life hyperaware any time he is the focus of someone’s attention, and now he feels like ants are crawling under his skin.

He spends the next three periods convinced he’s still got toilet paper stuck to his face where he’d nicked himself shaving, but no matter how many times he wipes a too-big hand across his face, under his chin, he’s still being stared at. It’s a weird feeling. He’s been as close to invisible as he can manage since middle school, since the first time a boy had smiled at him and Tom had wanted. Sure, he plays the sports his dad had demanded he play, and sure, he’s — moderately friendly with a few different groups, but he isn’t — he doesn’t —

Evelyn Carrini sidles up to him at the start of lunch with a keyring curling around her middle finger, perfectly manicured French tips and a plethora of plastic bands wrapped around her wrists, eyes assessing, keys jangling in the loose circle of her palm. “Buy me lunch, Kinard,” she says, and Tom — Tom follows her out to her car so she can take them through the nearby Wendy’s drive through.

His dad is ecstatic. Good grades haven’t impressed him, making the right teams hasn’t impressed him — even shedding the weight over the summer that had clung to him for years despite being active as hell hadn’t impressed him — but the first time he catches Evelyn “studying” in Tom’s room, he smacks Tom so hard on the back that he has to scramble on suddenly gangly limbs to keep his balance.

Evelyn is a cheerleader. A firecracker, according to every adult who’s ever met her, an absolute darling of Cliffside Park High, and generally well known as the nicest girl who could possibly gossip about you behind your back. Tom’s a little obsessed with her. Enough to give it a try, enough to roll around with her in the bed of her dads pickup, making out until they’re blue in the face, enough to want to spend every spare fucking moment with her.

They go to movies, and hang out at the mall with all her friends, and drink beer in the carpark behind the Sears that’d gone out of business a year and a half earlier. They hold hands in the hallways at school, and pass notes in the classes they share, and Tom meets her parents at a quiet family dinner where no one asks a single question about his novelist grandfather and his fuckup kids, or his dead mom, or the sister being raised by his aunt a township over.

Tom adores Evelyn. He does. He doesn’t even mind it that much that her nails dig into his skin when she’s got her tongue in his mouth, or that her perfume is always just a little overpowering. Evelyn is great.

Evelyn... has an excellent rack. Top notch, really — round perky breasts with rose colored nipples that are perfectly symmetrical and...right up in his face.

Evelyn squirms in his lap, and Tom knows the game is up.

He’s — maybe at half chub (He’s a teenager, sue him. Sometimes a well aimed breeze gets him hard.) Nothing to write home about, anyway, and Tom can usually explain this away, shift his hips and slow the kissing and suck at Evelyn’s neck until she gets impatient enough to shove his hand down her Spanx and let him get to work.

Tom is aware that no amount of testing the weight of Evie’s tits in his hands or sucking one of those dusky nipples between his teeth is gonna get him there.

“Are you —?” Evelyn asks, and Tom stares at her chest and tries to imagine a scenario where his dad doesn’t find out about this. His — his hands are shaking. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t drawn a breath in about forty-five seconds. “Jesus Christ, Kinard, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

Evelyn Carrini is just another dumb teenager who has no fucking idea how badly things are about to turn for him.

And then she isn’t.

“Oh my god,” she says, delight in her voice, and Tom cringes, hands curling into fists in Evie’s purple duvet as she swings off of him and scrambles for the shirt she’d tossed over the side of the bed a good twenty minutes before he’d worked up the courage to pop the clasp on her bra. “Oh my god,” she repeats as she stuffs her really very nice breasts back underneath the croptop. “Tom, can you stop having a panic attack for five fucking seconds, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Tom blinks, dazed, but it has the intended effect of forcing him to pull in three sharp breaths, drawing him right the fuck out of his swirling thoughts. He can see his own expression in the mirror over her shoulder, and is suddenly incredibly grateful they hadn’t managed to get any further. “You’re the biggest gossip I know,” Tommy snarks back, which is a terrible fucking idea when she’s just discovered the exact weapon she needs to completely obliterate him.

She cocks a hip, rolls her eyes, blows a crinkled lock of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, dumbass, do you think the biggest gossip you know doesn’t know how to keep a secret?”

Which is a fair point, actually. In between makeouts and actual studying and bland stories about their day, she’s told him a litany of secrets that have never seen the light of day beyond their little bubble of privacy. Jerri Danvers secret abortion. The DUI Travis Evans dad had called in favors to have swept under the rug. Cheryl G cheating on her boyfriend with Cheryl K. Chris Harper selling ritalin and coke out of the mens room in D Hall.

(”What’s the difference?” he’d asked, like Evie had all the answers, and she’d rolled her eyes. Lethal, that eyeroll. “The price, idiot. Snow’s a lot easier to source.”)

It still takes him a while to really believe she won’t tell.

But she doesn’t. Week after week, game after game, party after party. He asks her to Homecoming half convinced there’s a secret plan to Carrie him in the middle of the gym, but instead she drags him into a bathroom stall in the girls room, fucks up the hair he’d spend twenty minutes slicking just right, unbuttons three buttons of his dress shirt and slips the loop of his tie around her own neck while she makes obscene noises and rattles the rickety stall wall. She kisses her bright red lipstick onto his lips and only drags him out once they have a crowd.

He carries her bookbag out to her car from her locker at the end of the day, and listens to her bitch about her older sister in med school, and lets her experiment with perming on his hair, gives the JT ramen noodle look a total of three hours before he attempts to wash it out and, failing that, brings a pair of clippers back to her place she that she can buzz all his hair off.

The make it through the holidays, and Valentines, and Tommy sends her an extravagant bouquet of flowers on her birthday, right in the middle of a pep rally, the delivery guy flummoxed as hell as every upperclassman packed on the bleachers hoots and hollers about it, and it’s not what he wants, not really, not quite, but he’d buy her flowers every day just for existing and allowing him to exist as himself for the few hours of privacy they carve out away from everyone else.

Somewhere in the early hours of dawn, three months before graduation, she finally gets him to admit that basketball star Jason Ledecky with his stupid long legs and his thick heavy Boston drawl is Tom’s exact brand of smokin’.

“You could do so much better than Jason Ledecky,” she tells him, and Tom laughs as he presses his nose into the give of her stomach.

“Also he’d beat the shit out of me for trying,” Tom says, and Evie gets the sad kind of quiet, like she does every time he skids away from talking about his dad, like she does every time he talks about his mother, quiet and soft.

“Someday it’ll be different,” Evie says, carding fingers through the hair that had grown back in time for the class picture, and Tom nods like he believes her. “Some day some guy with legs for days, with the biggest heart and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen is gonna sweep you off your feet and I’m gonna shake his fucking hand.”

Tom hums.

“And maybe show him my tits just to make sure,” she says with a gentle tug on his hair, and Tom laughs until he can’t breathe.

Tom can’t say why he doesn’t tell her The Plan. Prom comes and goes, and as graduation approaches Tom attends all the parties, sneaks up the lattice to curl up next to Evie on her bed on nights that his dad comes home smelling like he bathed in hops, settles the last of his business, packs a bag he hides far enough under his bed that even snoopy Evie wont notice.

His dad’s drunk on the day he graduates, and at the end of the ceremony, after they’ve all made a plan for a bonfire at the quarry, Tom presses a lingering kiss to the crown of Evie’s head, and while her friends all roll their eyes at Evie’s perfect boyfriend, Tom slips away, grabs the bag he’d left in his old gym locker, and he leaves.

_____

“Okay so at eighteen I’m not sure I knew there was even such a thing as bisexuality,” Evie says, sipping at her glass of wine and eyeing the half of Evan’s cheesecake he still hasn’t eaten. “And my tits aren’t what they used to be, anyway.”

Tommy and Evan both shoot her incredulous looks.

“Yeah, they’re still pretty good,” she admits around a laugh, and beneath the table, Evan’s knee knocks into Tommy’s. “You gotta admit, though, Tommy — I fucking nailed your type years before you ever did.”

Evan’s grin goes ear to ear, absolutely proving her point when he shifts to reach for the hand Tommy’s been resting on his knee for the last few minutes.

“That’s what the steak dinner was for,” Tommy tells her, and they share a look Tommy hasn’t shared with anyone in twenty years.

Evan slides the rest of his cheesecake across the table without having to be asked, and tucks himself neatly against Tommy’s side as Evie’s eyes go wide and happy.

[luvyeni]

THE HIGH LORD OF SUMMER COURT; HWANG HYUNJIN

PAIRINGS. highfae!hyunjin x maid!reader

WC. 6.4k

WARNINGS. virginity loss, corruption kink if you squint, oral (fem. recieving), unprotected sex,

SYNOPSIS. hyunjin of summer court hardly paid attention to his staff, spending most of his time with different hook ups or spending most of his time in his paint room, but when you clumsily spill his tea on his suit, he suddenly wants to be around you, watching you work.

TAGLIST. @kosmoreads @hipsdofangirl @imhyvnjin @lovemepie67 @chvnnie @hgema @candiecans @my-name-is-namename @yourhwngness @midsoulz @jessyrdn @cutielittlepie @intomysoul-555 @cxentrxcks @yurippiefelix @missrobyn81 @stayinthemirohwoo @3retcha @lifeissteph @skzfelixlove @reiheis @chereshnyya @levantea @why-am-i-sad @blankdyean @kunstistliebchen @userbangchan @fairywriter-oracle @elmi-chan @compersian @mal-lunar-28 @n4tiii @ddazed-lhs @felixcharmerera @ch4nniebang @hyunibinnie @fairyyeo @reddesert-healourblues @fxckedupbitch @icouldntcareless22 @pessimist-sky @jeonnyread

DISCLAIMER! THIS IS NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE BOOK SERIES BUT IT WILL HAVE REFERENCES TO THE BOOK.

rule number one: lesser faeries are to be seen and not heard while they work in the castle.

Growing up that's all that your mother would say, it was the first thing she every told you when you asked her how was it when she went to work at the castle in adriata and she's been saying it ever since.

your family lived in the poorest cities of the summer court, surving on close to nothing after your father died. that was before your mother got a special job to go work in adriata, to work for the high lord of the court, lord hyunjin. this was the first good news you have ever had received in your entire life , your family would get a little more money coming into your very small house.

recently, your mother started to experience severe pain, and the castle thought it would be in her best intrest if she found a replacement and retired, of course she chose you, you were in young and ready to work for your family. soon you were finding yourself saying goodbye to your aunt and siblings, going to join your mother at the castle in the capital city of adriata.

"mom!" you were met with a heartwarming hug from your mother when you met up with her where all the boats and ships docked in adriata. "my baby!" regardless of time your mother spent away, you never let it get in between your relationship with your mother. "we have to go to the shops, the high lord requested a special dinner tonight for lady friend, let's get some practice in, so you can get familiar with what he likes and doesn't."

walking through the streets of adriata , you learned what you needed to know about the hyunjin, the high lord, all his likes and dislikes. "he's rather short with the staff, doesn't say much, unless he wants something, his lady friends though, they need help with everything, eating, getting dressed, you name it they probably need help with it." you laughed.

"he hasn't been married off yet?"

you knew all about hyunjin, and his never ending quest of trying get into all the dresses of the summer court high faes. "you know he probably never will , you know he was the first high fae to reject his mating bond."

"lesser faeries are to be seen and not heard while they work in the castle, i know mama."

the kitchen was pretty much the only place you could talk , except when anyone important would come in to check, then it would get silent. "i guess they take that rule pretty seriously." you try to joke, but your mother just slaps your arm, telling you to hush, apologizing to the other staff.

"oh my!" chaewon, a girl around your age jumped up while you washed the dishes, you and your said your goodbyes, and she was on her way back home, leaving you alone. "are you okay?" your face turned in half concern half confusion.

"i can't believe we let the time pass like this, the lord needs his tea, oh he's probably gonna be so mad." she rushed to get everything together. "has he gotten mad before?" you helped her so she wouldn't burn herself with the way she was shaking. "i don't know i've been here for a year and he hasn't come in once, your mom is the only one who serves him." she freezes again. "your mom, she isn't here, who's gonna serve the lord, oh no." she began to panic, but she stopped looking at you.

"you can do it."

"me?" your eyes widened, "i can't do it, you said it yourself, my mom only does it." she put everything neatly on the tray. "that's why you should do it, your her daughter." she handed it to you. "absolutely not, i mean i don't even know where his wing is." you push the tray slowly away from you.

"it's the right wing, please , i will owe you one." she pushed back towards you. you looked into her pleading eyes. "tsk, fine." she smiled handing you tray. "you owe me." she gave you a tumbs up. "remember, quite as you work, or whatever that rule was." you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her, you had other things to worry about. like where the hell was the right wing...

"god where the hell is his room?" you whispered as you basically tipped toed through the halls of the castle. chaewon made it seem like it was easy to find, you knew you shouldn't have listen to someone who's been here for a year and hasn't even left the kitchen or met the lord.

"this was so stupid." you should've just waited like you suggestive, instead hear you are lost in the castle, trying not to cry out in frustration. "i've had enough of this, where's his damn room." you started to get a bit upset.

"excuse me." a deep voice made you shriek in fear, and the next thing you know the tea was thrown over the person, he gasped. "shit!" he cursed, probably because the was hot and now it was on all over his body...

it was hyunjin. lord hyunjin.

hyunjin was confused, his servents knew his schedule, so where was his tea? everyday at this hour his tea is served my mrs.lee quietly in his art room, just like he likes it, where is she?

"hyune what's wrong?" he sighed under his brearh at the voice that had plagued him for the past few weeks. "nothing hana, you know you're not supposed to be in here." she was only supposed to be here a night, and now suddenly she's asking for big dinners with him and her friends, he didn't mind though, he'll entertain her delusions of marrying him for a few weeks, then break it off with her by sleeping with her bestfriend, it should be fine, it always worked out for him in the end.

"i can't wait anymore." he got up. "someone will answer for this, come get out." he closed the door leaving hana who was confused standing outside it.

he was making his way to the kitchen for the first time in years, he was surprised he still knew where it was, especially since this castle was pretty ginormous.

"i've had enough of this, where is his damn room." a voice made him stop and turn, a young girl around his age holding his tea tray. had something happen to mrs.lee? who was this girl?"

hyunjin thought he was making loud enough steps, but apparently not, since when he went to get your attention, you shrieked in terror, the tray slipping out of your hand, and landing right on his clothes. "shit!" he jumped back in pain because of the hot drink.

"oh no, im so dead." you panicked, trying to pick everything up. "i am so sorry." you grabbed the napkin off the tray, trying to blot it off his suit. "please don't fire or kill me it was an accident." you rambled, realizing the napkin was as useless as the most useless thing on the planet.

"it's fine, wait your arm is bur- what the hell are you doing." hyunjin rolled his eyes as hana approached you both, grabbing your arm, you flinched in pain, but only hyunjin seemed to see it, because hana didn't let your arm go.

"i..im so sorry."

"you damn well better be, his suit ruined, and you've probably burned his skin—oh my hyune are you okay." hyunjin's eyes were on your wrist, it must've hurt more since it was directly on your skin, but you didn't utter not one moan of pain.

you both made eye contact, and he awkwardly coughed. "hana, im fine, i just need a new suit." she turned to you. "well why are you standing there still? go fetch the tailor and get him a new suit." he watched you practically run away with the tray in your hand. "idiot, you should have her fired." he side eyed hana, removing her hand from his chest, walking away back to his room, his tea was all over him, but why could he only worry about the burn on your arm?

"it's my first day and im gonna be fired, my mom has been gone fore 2 hours max and im already gonna lose the job." you panicked as chaewon bandaged your arm, you tried to tell her it barely hurt, but in reality she was just trying to compensate for putting you in said mess. "i am so sorry, this is all my fault, i put too much pressure on you on your first day."

"it's fine i guess, no one was really hurt." you said. "my ego is though." she pouted. "i am so sorry." she apologized once more, just another maid ran in. "it's time to serve dinner, there's a few guest, so remember, we are to be seen and not heard, let's not cause even more of a scene." she looked at you and chaewon, you both just lowered your heads in embarrassment. "chop chop!"

everyone set everything up so perfect on the rollie trays. "should you really be in control of the trays." you glared at the male staff next to you. "shut it beomgyu." chaewon slapped his arm. "the three of you let's go." you quickly shut your mouths as you made your way to the eating area.

there were many girls, squealing and talking as you entered into the room, must be her friends, the way hyunjin looked so disinterested. "i can't believe it all these girls and the bastard acts like this." beomgyu said under his breath. "beomgyu, shut up." chaewon said quietly through her fake smile.

"both of you stop it, dispurst so they won't notice." you said walking the other way, right towards hyunjin. 'shit' it was too late to turn around without anyone noticing you literally trying run away from serving the high lord himself, so you sucked it up, head down as you made your way over to him.

hyunjin saw you walking over to him, he was so bored, and all he could think of was if your wrist was okay so this perfect. you walked over to him head down to the floor, you took this seen but not heard thing seriously he thought. "cute." he chuckled under his breath, covering it with a cough as you grew closer to him.

you put his food in front of him, about to walk away, but he softly grabbed your wrist. "does it hurt?" you were shocked he even asked. "you can answer." you were too stunned. "uh- excuse you." hana interrupted you. "my friend needs her food." you quickly gave him a nod, before walking to them.

"that's her, the one who tried to burn the high lord." you cringed, hearing her gossip to her friend. "and she's still working here?" you were pretty sure they wanted you to hear. "you know hyunjin is just so kind, he would never to that to someone so poor." you were a lesser fae so you were pretty much powerless, but you definitely would have used them on her if you were strong enough. "watch this." hana knocked over the cup sneakily.

"jesus! can you do anything right, constantly dropping things, why won't you just quit if you're gonna be this useless." your jaw dropped. "b- are you about to speak?" mrs.bae, another maid ran over to you. "she didn't mean it, we'll have this cleaned up right now, beomgyu."

"whatever, just get out of my sight." mrs.bae nodded dragging you away. you glanced at hyunjin who looked at you with sympathy in his eyes. "let's go." mrs.bae dragged you into the kitchen.

after your second scolding of the day you were told to stay in the kitchen and do the dishes, so you did until it was time for the servants to quietly return to their quarters.

"it was the worst first day ever." you sat on your uncomfortable mattress. "you definitely take the cake for worst first days." beomgyu plopped his butt right on your bed. "why is he here." chaewon threw her pillow at the boy. "i really don't know why i keep you around, useless i tell you, get out." she picked up the show, getting ready to throw it. "fine, im gone." he got up leaving out your small room. "we get the smallest rooms because we're the youngest." chaewon picked her pillow up. "of course." you layed on your back, staring up at the dingy light.

"well there's always tomorrow." she turned off the light, darkness engluf the room. "i guess." you sighed, closing your eyes letting sleep wash over you.

you guys were rushed out of bed the next morning to start the day. "jesus it's so early." beomgyu stumbled into the kitchen. "i hate this job." you and chaewon laughed at the boy who washed the fruits, grumbling a bunch of curse words under his breath. "you must not be a morning person." you teased. "oh haha mrs.tray." you glared are him. "asshole." chaewon slapped your arm, but you brushed it off. "you started it." he retaliated, you noticed chaewon was quite, the whole kitchen was in fact except you and beomgyu.

chaewon stared in shock towards the entrance of the kitchen, your eyes followed hers, mouth opened in shock. "good morning." hyunjin stood there, no one said anything. "is breakfast almost ready?" mrs.bae spoke up. "a..almost sir, sorry for keeping you waiting." he held his hand up. "don't apologize, just wanted to see how it was coming along, don't mind me." he walked around the kitchen looking at everything, while everyone walked on eggshells.

he looked over to the station where you three quietly did your task. you guys locked eyes and he made his way over. "shit." all three of you said, looking at the fruit like it was actually intresting, beomgyu was itching to make a joke, you coud see his left eye twitching.

"good morning." you heard his voice, smooth like honey in your ear. "is your wrist okay?" you nodded, eyes on the fruit, chopping them right beside chaewon.

"you know i prefer it so much better when someone verbally answers me, and looks me in the eye." he whispered in your ear, his hand grazing yours. "let's try that again, is your wrist okay." you breathed, turning your head, his face very close to yours, but you looked him in the eyes. "it's fine." you hope you didn't sound too breathless.

"good girl."

your knees almost went weak, you swore you would've fell if it weren't for chaewon, he smirked walking away leaving everyone shocked at what just happened. he whispered something into mrs.bae's ear before leaving the kitchen, and you could hear the collective sigh wash over the room.

"girl." chaewon turned to you. "what the hell was that?" you shrugged, trying to collect your thoughts. "i..i don't know." you spoke. "did you seduce the high lord?" beomgyu wasn't joking. "our first meeting was me spilling hot tea over him, i doubt it." "maybe he has a kink for that." chaewon slapped beomgyu. "shut up."

"im just saying." he threw his hands up in defense. "i mean it's not my thing, but i don't judge." you listened to them argue, as mrs.bae walked over to you. "the high lord has requested you to his bedroom." chaewon snickered. "it's a bit early for that." you glared. "shut up." your face was hot. "get back to work, you will go to his room and clean, quietly, and then make your way back to the kitchen to get ready for lunch." she instructed.

"try not to burn him again." chaewon and beomgyu bursted out into a fit of laughter. "why did i chose you two as friends." you glared at them, walking out the kitchen, someone escorting you to his room this time, to avoid you getting lost.

you hesitantly knock on the door, waiting for him to allow you to come in. "enter." you shakily open the door, slowing walking in. "i'm here to clean your-ah! i'm sorry i thought you said enter." you covered your eyes, embarrassed beause he was standing in a towel. "i did."

"but you're naked." he laughed. "im not naked, i have a towel, would you like me to show you naked." you shook your head. "i..it's fine, i'll just clean quickly and be on my way." hyunjin nodded watching you as began to make his bed. "so mrs.lee was your mom." you nodded, you weren't sure if you should speak, mrs.bae told you not to, and she scared you more than any high lord.

"she's been here since i was a kid, she never mentioned having a kid not once." you chuckled to yourself, but he heard you. "what's so funny?" "doesn't that kinda of defeat the purpose of the whole seen and not heard thing?" he thought about. "i guess it does."

"i didn't come up with that rule you know, it's always be installed into the workers." he spoke up. "why haven't you changed it." you mumbled to yourself as you swept off the step of the fireplace, suddenly you were being spun around. "speak up, stop mumbling." your eyes widen. "i..im sorry." he sighed.

"stop apologizing for everything, you said what was on your mind, don't go back on it." he wasn't that tall, but he was tall enough to hover over you. "what did say, say louder this time." he commanded.

"i said why haven't you changed it?"

he shrugged, "i guess i haven't really paying attention to it, guess i've doing other things." he spoke. "you mean other people." you said boldly. "oh? bold aren't we?" he smirked and you realized how close he actually was, eyes traveling down, stopping at his waist. "my eyes are up here." his hand came up to your chin ready to grab.

"hyune!" he dropped his hand rolling eyes, and you quickly turned around, just before hana skipped into the room. "i missed you." she wrapped her arms around the boy. "i seen you yesterday." you smiled to yourself, but hyunjin seen and it made him smile, knowing he got you to smile... you have such a nice smile.

"what is she doing in here?" hana finally acknowledged you, could you not get someone else, is there no one else in this big castle?" the hell did she have to be so rude for, you would've thought the tea fell on her. "hana, her mother is mrs lee, she basically raised me, she's new but with some training, she'll be a good worker." hyunjin walked over to you grabbing your shoulders. "won't you?" he whispered in your ear, like this morning, except this time he's in a towel.

"y..yes."

"good girl, you can go now, i'll see you tomorrow." you quickly grab everything, almost tripping over your dress— luckily you didn't, making your way out of the room so fast, leaving a satisfied hyunjin, and a annoyed hana.

"what game are you playing here hyunjin?" hana said once she was sure you were gone. "what are you talking about hana?" he put on his clothed for the day. "you know what i mean, are we gonna get together officially like i've been telling my friends , or am i not important anymore, is the new maid more important than me?" hyunjin turned facing hana.

"hana, what are you talking about? you knew what this was long ago, what to do you mean telling your friends." he said, he knew it was cold, but hana wasn't exactly the nicest person either, i mean hyunjin seen how she treated you. "i know but, i was hoping- there's the problem, you're hoping for the wrong thing, your mate is out there somewhere, it's just not me, we can have fun until you find him though." he kissed her cheek, leaving the pissed off fae alone in the room.

ever since you've arrived, you've done nothing but piss her off, she and hyunjin were fine before you got here and now the saddest thing is, he looks at you with love in his eyes, and he can barely spare her a glance anymore... she was pissed off.

"stay back here today, wash the dishes." mrs.bae ordered during lunch. "guess they're still a bit traumatized." beomgyu teased as they left out the kitchen for lunch.

"stupid dishes." you grumbled, plate in your hand scrubbing it. "i didn't even do anything, it was her." you were speaking to yourself. "she spilled the drink."

"who did?" hana stood in the corridor. "are you talking about me?" you shook your head, she scoffed. "look at you, you can't even speak without my permission, how dare a lesser faerie talk to hyunjin in such a unprofessional manner." she walked closer, stalking you with her eyes. "pretty pathetic if you ask me, trying to seduce him." you turned to her. "im not."

"did i say you could speak." she slammed her hand on the counter next to sink. "we may not be together, but he'll never choose a lesser fae, remember that." her eyes flashed to the sink, which started to fill up with more water, even though the sink wasn't on.

"what is-" water manipulation, she was doing this. "please don't do this." you begged, but it fell on deafs ears as it began to overflow on to the floor. "what is going on here." mrs.bae had returned back.

"look at what you did you dumb fae." hana said. "i ask you to do one simple thing and you go and mess up the floor."

"i didn't you did, you did this." everyone gasped. "what did you say?" she was fuming, how dare you have the guts to talk back. "i said- enough." mrs.bae grabbed your wrist. "she didn't mean in ma'am, we'll clean this quickly, we're sorry for the inconvenience, lunch is being served right now, so if you make your way into the dining area, and we'll clean this up right now." mrs.bae waited for hana to leave, who threw a sly smirk as she left out of the room before she turned on her stern face. "i should fire you." she hissed.

"if it wasn't for your mother, i would've fired you already." you lowered your head, once again feeling defeated. "go to your room and stay there for the rest of the evening." she instructed. "but- now!" her voice made you jump, and you made your way down to the maids quarters, embarrassed, ashamed and pissed off.

it went like that for the next 3 days, you weren't allowed to leave the maids quarters, they sent someone else to cleans hyunjins room, you'd only talk to chaewon and beomgyu.

you were ready to go back to work, you grew to love chaewon and tolerate beomgyu, but if you were being honest, you missed interacting with hyunjin, the way he talked to you made your heart flutter like you've never felt before. "maybe today will be the last day." chaewon tried to give you hope.

"then you can get back to screwing the high lord." beomgyu sat on your bed. "come on you two, we have work to attend to, it's castle cleaning day." mrs.bae walked into the room. "and beomgyu i've told you to stop entering the girls room." beomgyu apologized, knowing he'd do it again. "when will i'll be able to return to work?" you asked for the fourth time.

"when i say you can." she closed the door, leaving you alone once again. "you said that the last three days." you said to yourself really, your head hit the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

hyunjin was hoping to see you, it's been three days since he's seen you, hana did tell him what happened and that you had been in trouble, but he was starting to miss you, and the way you would shy away from him, fuck he needed to see you.

"mrs.bae?" the older woman stopped scolding beomgyu on how he was scrubbing the wall. "yes my lord." she responded."is ＿ returning anytime soon?" she looked with a confused eye. "my lord i was under the suspicion that you wanted her fired." he would never get rid of you, he hasn't felt this alive in a while. "nonsense, i'll go tell her myself she is to return to work tomorrow." he quickly made his escape before she could question him.

you were extremely bored, nothing to do. "i never thought i would miss work." you sighed to yourself. "that's good then." you thought you were hearing things. "you'll be able to come back tomorrow." you sat up, facing the man standing in the door. "really?" your eyes lit up. "that is so cool, thank you, i can't wait to get back to work!"

"wow, i come all the way down here to see you and your more happy about work." he grabbed his chest in faux pain. "im hurt princess."

"y..you came down here to see me? w...why?"

"isn't is obvious that i'm attracted to you love?" your face was hot. was he getting close? yes he was. "i thought it was pretty obvious, i didn't come down to the kitchen after avoiding it for almost 20 something years just to say hi to everyone." he sat down on your bed stroking your cheek,. "i came to see you." he whispered.

"i want you."

"h..hyunjin, we can't." you grabbed his hand. "why can't we?" he said. "come on princess, im not stupid, i seen how you almost fell to your knees when i gave you the littlest bit of attention, you mean to tell me you don't feel anything for me? hmm?"

of course you did, but this was your job, and you couldn't jeopardize that. "i...- just give me a kiss, one kiss, and we'll see how you feel right then." he held your face in his hand. "o..okay, just one kiss." you whispered.

"just one kiss." he slowly leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. it was a passionate kiss, a kiss that you would remember for the rest of your life. "princess, was that your first kiss?" he smirked pulling away. "my pretty baby is a virgin, that's why you don't think we should do it?" his words made your face burn.

"don't laugh at me." you pulled away, frowning. "im not laughing baby i swear." his lips were swollen from the kiss, you couldn't keep your eyes off them. "you want more kisses, you drunk off my kiss love?" you whined and he bit his lips. "don't make those pretty noises baby." he pulled you into another passionate kiss. "i won't be able to resist you if you whine so prettily for me." he began to kiss your neck.

"h..hyunjin." you sighed. "hmm princess?" he rubbed your sides. "i..i want you." he had you right where he wanted. "were do you want me princess." you whined, embarrassed. "you know." he did, he knew exactly where you wanted, but he wasn't gonna give you what you wanted until you told him.

"i told you i prefer when people look me in my eyes." he grabbed your chin to look at him. "and tell me what they want." you bit your lip. "i want you d..down there." your neck was on fire, as his eyes traveled down. "you want me down there, to do what?" you were about to cry from how much you needed him. "want me to give you kisses down there?" you nodded, "yes, yes i do." you finally spoke up, he smiled.

"good girl, you used your words, now lay back." you slowly layed back, he slotted his body in between your legs, lifting up your dress, pulling your underwear down. "your pussy is so pretty." he licked his bottom lip, coating it with spit. "i bet you taste amazing." he kissed your slit, licking his lip again. "i was right, you taste amazing." he dove right in, kissing and licking your sweet cunt.

"h..hyunjin!" you prayed no one would come down and hear the noises coming from your mouth and the noises he was making below. "f...feels good." he hummed into your pussy, his eyes sharp looking up at you as he ate you out.

you gripped the horrible sheets below you as he continued the assault. "h..hyunjin i..it feels funny." he detached his mouth from your clit, replacing it with his fingers. "go a head, let yourself go." he rubbed finger eights into your clit as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasure washed over your entire boy. "good girl." he kissed your lips, tasting yourself on his lips. "how was that princess?" you smiled lazily. "g..good."

"do you want me to- next time love, next time, i just want to be with you right now." he said laying down in the uncomfortable bed next to you. "let's just lay here." he whispered into your hairs. so that's what you did, for the rest of the day, you stayed in the bed, talking only moving when hyunjin had to hide behind to door when chaewon came in to check in on you when she had a quick minute or when beomgyu snuck you in a cookie, in which hyunjin rolled his eyes in jealousy, asking why couldn't he send chaewon to do it.

"beomgyu? if you want to be jealous of anybody, i'd be jealous of chaewon before beomgyu." you laughed. "it was one cookie, he should've bought more, he has ulterior motives." he pouted and you just kissed his lips. "he likes chaewon, calm down." you gave him half of the cookie. "it's not even warm " he bit into the cookie.

sadly he eventually had to go. "i don't want to." he groaned. "you have to." you pushed him out. "hurry before they come back." he scoffed. "i'm the high lord, who i date is my concern." you smiled at him confirming your relationship. "yeah but this is my job, and mrs.bae can still fire me." you gave him one more kiss.

"fine, but i want you to clean my room tomorrow, not chaewon, i told her it was fine to speak and im starting to think one of her ancestors were the reason the reason why the rule was put in place." he kissed your forehead, before walking down the hall, turning back to look at you one more time before turning the corner, you closed the door with a dumb smile on your face.

the next morning you returned back to work the next morning, helping with breakfast, before mrs.bae told you to head to hyunjins room to clean. "okay." you said. "try not smile so hard." chaewon whispered. "huh?" you said. "beomgyu is dumb, but he isn't deaf, he heard you and the high lord talking yesterday." your eyes widened turning to beomgyu. "tell him it's most definitely just a cookie, and that im offened that he'd think i'm that desperate." you were about slap his arm when mrs.bae interrupted.

"go now." you jumped at him, before walking out of the kitchen with the supplies in your hand to his room, trying to hide the smile on your face, you couldn't wait to see him.

you knocked on the door, but he quickly opened it; pulling you in, closing it, pinning you against it. "i missed you." he kissed your lips. "you seen me yesterday." you laughed. "it felt so long ago." he tucked a strand of hair out your face. "i want to show you something." he took your hand, guiding you out the room, making sure no one was watching.

"your art room?" he nodded, opening the door. "i never let anyone in here." he said. "but yesterday i was so bored so i painted something, and i wanted to show you." he walked you to a covered easel. "you ready?" you nodded. "show me." he pulled the cover off, and your eyes widened. "m..me?" you turned to him. "i couldn't get you off my mind yesterday, so i came here to paint, i couldn't help." he wrapped his arms around you. "you've clouded my mind, i haven't thought of any girls, or anything since i first saw you."

"the first time you saw me i spilled tea all over yourself." he winced at the thought. "you were so cute, it didn't really hurt, but you were so determined to get the tea out of the shirt." you slapped his chest. "stop it." you frowned. "i'm sorry." he kissed your pouted lips. "you were so cute." he kissed you again, this time more passionately.

"h..hyunjin." he pushed you against the desk in the room, lifting you on it, pushing your dress up. "so so cute." he began to grind against your heat.

"i've been hard since yesterday, no matter how many times i tried to jerk off, im still hard." he pulled your panties down, along with his pants and underwear. "i'll be gentle i swear." he lined his cock at your heat, slowly pushing inside you. "oh fuck, you're so tight, your pussy can barely take me."he kissed your neck. "hyunjin." you moaned. "f..feel s..so full." he toyed with your clothed nipples as he fucked into you. "fuck princess, i don't think i can be with anyone else after you, you've ruined me for anyone else shit! " he felt himself about to cum. "hyunjin, im gonna cum." he nodded. "me too love." you pulled him into a passionate as you both came his cum painting your insides.

"fuck, what are you doing to me?" he breathed, his forehead against yours. "why am i falling for you so hard?"

you both cleaned yourselves off, putting your panties back on he wrapped his arms around your waist, your arms draped around his neck, he slowly swayed your bodies left to right, the both of you were so caught up with each other, you didn't even realize you were being watched.

hana was on the other side of the door seething, she thought she had gotten rid of you with the water thing. "i have to get back to the kitchen." she wanted to rip her pointed ears off to keep from hearing your giggles. "i'll come check on you later." hyunjin said. "you really need to let me work, i have a family back home to feed." hana smirked, an evil idea forming.

"how was it?" chaewon and beomgyu were chopping veggies when you returned. you rolled your eyes. "i'm not having this conversation right now." you washed your hands, getting ready to help. "i'll tell you later." you whispered. "okay." she gave you a thumbs up.

"you dumb bitch!" a loud voice made you turn around, but before you could react, a hand went straight across your face. "how dare you." you realized it was hana. "yah! you can't hit her like that." chaewon jumped in. "how dare you speak to me, you lesser fae need to learn your place." her hand went up to smack chaewon, and you snapped, grabbing her wrist, pushing it down.

"have y-" the entire kitchen went silent as they as your hand went straight across her face. "keep your hands off her." she grabbed the spot where you slapped her. "whatever you're pissed about, be pissed about it, but you don't get to treat us like trash because were servents."

"what's going on here?" mrs.bae returned from the back, hana turned on the water works. "first you seduce the high lord, knowing we're in a relationship, then you slap me like im in the wrong." your eyes widened. "bullshit, you came in here and hit her like a maniac." beomgyu cut in. "beomgyu!" mrs.bae yelled. "and she seduce anyone, he came on to her besides, you two aren't even together, he said it himself." chaewon exclaimed.

"mrs.bae is this how you run things all three of them should be fired." hana screeched. "enough!" mrs.bae yelled, it fell silence again. "you have been nothing but trouble since you've gotten here, never in my years has the castle been this discombobulated, staff talking out of order, talking when shouldn't, everything." you lowered your head, knowing what was coming. "i will have order."

"you two." she pointed to beomgyu and chaewon. "all three of you are to leave the castle and never return." you looked back up. "chaewon and beomgyu did nothing." you said. "it was pointless bringing in three young kids like you guys, go pack your stuff, you will leave at the end of the shift."

"what's going on here?" hyunjin walked into the tension filled kitchen. "hana what are you doing here?" she was silent. "there was a incident, hana was hurt but we are solving it right now- i was hit!" she screamed for more sympathy.

"i'd hit you again if he wasn't here." chaewon spat. "why are you three still here, go." mrs.bae said. "where are they going?" hyunjin asked looking at the three of you. "what happened?" he asked you. "she slapped me." hana jumped in. "hana told us how she tried to seduce you- seduce me?" he questioned.

"hana, i told you this already." he said. "yeah but she- she is my girlfriend, she didn't seduce i went after her first." everyone gasped, including hana. "her, a lesser faerie, are you serious hyunjin." he shrugged, walking up to you, pulling you right into a kiss. "does that help?" you slapped his chest. "w..why would do that, i'm at work." he smiled down at you kissing your head.

"i told you he fell first." beomgyu turned to chaewon. "it was the tea thing, told you, some people like that." chaewon slapped his arm. "everyone back to work." mrs.bae yelled. "mrs.hana, let me escort you out." the girl stomped out of the kitchen in defeat. "back to work." mrs.bae said leaving out.

"i have to get back to work." you pulled away. "wait since they're dating, do we have to listen to her?" the three of you turned to beomgyu. "shut up, just shut up." chaewon repeatedly hit him.

"no you don't beomgyu." hyunjin kissed you one more time, eyeing the boy.

"just if you're gonna bring cookies, bring some for me too."

©️LUVYENI