#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

[vxnuslogy]

— 11:11 wishes.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: you weren't one to believe in manifestation that the media portrays, but the student council vice president has made you think otherwise.

— warnings: reader is me coded (re: delusional), just pure fluff, modern/school setting.

— author's note: heavily inspired by my own experiences and shit. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 2.6k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

you spent an entire hour and a half staring at the pretty boy two seats in front of you. again. 

with a frustrated groan and very aggressively typed out messages to mualani, you heave out a sigh and watch your bedside clock tick. it was 11 minutes to the wishing hour and you were very much considering wishing kinich would miraculously be your partner for your next nonfiction project. you’re not sure how long you spent daydreaming about the way the student council vice president spun the pen in his hand with ease or how he always seemed so serious and mysterious. by the time you look back at your clock it was barely 2 minutes before 11:11 pm hit and you scrambled to sit up.

“am i really about to try and manifest this guy?” you ask in disbelief as the magic numbers appear and you find yourself closing your eyes, lips muttering a soft wish, “please let him be my partner for this project.”

now, you weren’t much of a believer in manifestation per se, but when you woke up earlier than your alarm and with the birds chirping, you just knew something good was going to happen today. 

as you make your way to school, you peek at the bulletin board mualani and the rest of the council is working on for foundation week. unsurprisingly there was a crowd of students around it, all trying to catch the eye of the president and her right hand man. mualani has always said you stare at people like a hawk because she spun around from what she was doing and waved at you, very exaggeratedly mind you. the boy you spent the entire night thinking about suddenly turned to the commotion and you were left to awkwardly wave hello before making your way to the classroom. 

his stare was intense—you felt it all the way until you turned a corner—but you can’t deny the sudden heat that rose to your cheeks when you remembered the color of his eyes. vibrantly shiny and green; like seeping sunlight through the leaves of summer trees. it was a sight to behold, unforgettable dare you say. you thought about the way his bangs framed his face, the slight smudge of paint on his cheeks, and the way you caught a glimpse of how his hand slightly raised as if to wave hello until your english class started.

“and for our last pair: [name] and kinich.”

now, it’s no surprise that you don’t listen in class (you and mualani joke that if either of you ever listened to a class the world might end) but this? this piqued your attention so badly you nearly toppled over your own chair. the hushed giggles of your classmates rang in your ears as maroon rushed to your cheeks. your eyes unwittingly found their way to the pretty boy two seats in front of you who willingly caught your stare. he looked equally intrigued and amused and you can’t help the awkward smile you flash at him.

“holy shit, it worked.”

you feel mualani’s judging stare as you unabashedly kick your feet in glee as a wide smile spreads on your face.

“get well soon,” she jokingly says, stealing her shark plush from your arms as you pout at her. mualani rolls her eyes at you and smacks you with the plush which you retaliate by throwing a pillow at her. “give me a pass! this is a first for me.”

“and i hope it’ll be the last!” you glare at her as she dodges another pillow. laughing as she skips out of your room leaving you on your bed with your phone and the paragraph you still haven't sent.

‘why is green your favorite color?’

after your first—very awkward—conversation with kinich, he graciously gave you his number to stay in touch for this project. it was rather simple really: pair up, interview each other, write a biography. easy right? well, not when your partner is the definition of a wallflower at its peak. you’re not complaining though, in your last class with him (that was literally just 3 days ago), he had allowed you to talk his ear off and asked if it was alright if he just talked to you over text. still unsure and admittedly (though not verbally) shy to open up to a person he’s only known for less than a week.

so here you are now, exchanging texts with the guy you lowkey have a crush on, unsure of how to rephrase your answer to not make it so obvious that you like him. no way in hell you’ll just shoot a text that says, “oh, i like green because you always wear a green hoodie to school.” you’d die from embarrassment! but then again, kinich has mentioned in a previous question on how he preferred straightforward people.

with an aggressive thumb pressed to the back button, you type out a new message that wasn’t two paragraphs long that described the color of his eyes.

“the color reminds me of summertime. what about you? what’s your favorite color?”

he doesn’t even give you a chance to put your phone down for a full minute before it buzzes with a new notification. with mortifyingly fast reflexes, you shove your phone to your face, your own screen brightness flashing you as your heart hammers in your chest. fuck butterflies in your stomach, you had an entire zoo with the series of messages kinich had sent.

“blue. you were wearing a blue bracelet when we first met and i really liked it.”

“and”

“it suits you”

“is that a weird thing to say?”

what… the… fuck…?

mualani’s footsteps raced against your carpeted stairs as she barged into your room, half eaten cookie in her hands. her worry dissipated into a judging but amused smile as you pace around your room, hands covering your face—you were quite sure steam was rising out of your head with how warm your face felt.

“mualani, he remembered,” you say in disbelief as you fall to your ass, sitting on your bedroom floors. grabbing the nearest plush on your bed and screaming into it as mualani laughs. “this is not funny!”

“but it is!” she insists, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. “you’re such a goner.”

“but he remembered the color of my bracelet!” you throw your hands up in the sky, rushing to your feet and grabbing your best friend by her shoulders. “who the fuck remembers the color of someone’s bracelet?!”

mualani laughs again as she peels your grip from her shoulders. “kinich. and you better get used to it, that guy has an even more hawkish stare than you.”

yeah, mualani was right, you were a goner. how the hell are you going to sit in front of him in your next class without bursting into a million pieces?

staying up with mualani until half past midnight was not a good idea because here you two were, laughing in panic as you both rushed to get ready for school. this girl, you swear she’ll get you expelled one way or another (but you won’t have it any other way). 

with all the previous treacherous pe classes in your system, you try your best to keep up with mualani’s athleticism under the chilly morning breeze. you might be laughing now but if you were to show up late in english even if it's only by a minute or two, you’ll get cooked on the spot by your teacher. even worse! kinich would have a front row seat for the entire fiasco because he always arrives 10 minutes before the actual class.

cursing your lowkey crush’s punctuality as you both speed past other almost late students, you bid mualani a quick goodbye and make a swift turn to your class. in your locked in state, you don’t notice the poor student in front of you. the world stilled for a moment as papers flew like miniature planes as you braced yourself to meet the cold school floors—but it never came.

“are you alright?”

you slowly look up, and there he is—kinich, his brows slightly furrowed, holding you steady with his gentle hands. “be careful,” he says, voice soft but still scolding. “you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“r-right, sorry,” you stammer, trying to ignore the shaking of your hands and thumping of your heart as you scramble to pick up the stray papers on the floor.

your hand paused when kinich’s fingers brushed against your own. kinich catches your gaze, and for a moment, you both still—green eyes filled with warmth, so full of something that pulled you in like a vortex. you can’t look away. heat rises to your checks when he clears his throat, standing up and handing the papers back to the student.

you follow his lead, brushing off imaginary dust from your uniform as you pull out your phone for a quick check on your appearance. you barely have a second to process what just happened when you hear kinich cough again.

“let’s go to class,” he says, covering his mouth with his fist and his eyes avoiding you but you catch the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. “i’ll tell the teachers i asked you to help me with council work so he won’t mark you as late.”

“oh no, no!” you quickly decline, waving him off with a lopsided smile. “it’s alright, you don’t have to cover for me. i stayed up late last night so it’s still my fault for being late.” you chuckle nervously, but kinich just stands there, watching you closely.

you stiffen like a board when he takes a step towards you, then another, and another until he’s standing right in front of you. well shit, he smelled really nice; unexpectedly floral mixed with a salty ocean breeze. you feel blood rush to your ears when kinich plucks a stray leaf from your hair and did he just chuckle?

“all right then,” he says with a small, barely-there laugh, turning to walk to class. you don’t notice the way he slips his hand through the straps of your bag until he slings it over his shoulders. “let’s get to class. i still have a lot of questions to ask you.”

this boy’s smile truly will be the death of you.

“11:11, i wish to talk to him even after this project.”

you find yourself wishing as you and the rest of mualani’s friends leave the campus after an unexpected cancelation of classes. today marked as the last day of your little getting to know with kinich. you were already finished with his biography and have been purposely leaving out certain bits of information in your answers so you could spend some more time with the boy.

speaking of which, said boy was conversing with xilonen—a pretty third year who you had the pleasure of meeting because of him—regarding the foundation week. all of you agreed to go to a karaoke booth to pass time (more like mualani dragged you to join because of your glum mood), but before you could take another step to your destination, a warm hand catches your wrist and softly tugs you back.

“we’ll catch up,” kinich says as you try to bite back the smile threatening to spill from your face as he plays with the beads of your bracelet. “we need to finish up the biography project.”

mualani complains about why you still aren’t finished. if it weren’t for chasca and xilonen’s persuasion, the younger girl wouldn’t have allowed the two of you to split up. with an amused chuckle, you readjust the straps of your bag and look at kinich who caught your stare.

“shall we go?”

he nods and the walk to the park was spent in quiet appreciation of the sun. when you catch sight of the free swings at the heart of the park, your hand as if magnets came, tug at kinich’s sleeve and drag him to sit down there. bags carelessly thrown to the side as he scolded you on what if something broke. you only laugh in response and gleefully sit down.

“push me?” you ask with a childish smile as kinich shakes his head but still follows through with your request. he gently pushes you on the swings as you hum a small tune. “what questions do you have left?”

kinich stopped pushing you and instead sits down beside you. slowly swinging himself as he says, “nothing. i just wanted to be alone with you.”

the chains of the swings creak softly like your heart as butterflies were set free in your stomach once again. he turns to you—all blushing cheeks and biting back a smile—with a knowing and entertained look in his eyes.

“i hate you,” you randomly say as you swing yourself. trying to cool yourself with the morning air as kinich follows suit. “i’m gonna miss talking to you,” you continued, eyes strained over the horizon as children began to appear with their parents in tow.

“you say that as if this will be the last time we talk.”

you stop swinging and look at him, hands gripping at the chains more tightly than you wanted to admit. “is it not the last time?”

“no.” he quickly replies and you're stunned. “do you want us to stop talking?” he turns to you with a raised brow and you couldn’t hold your smile back anymore as you shake your head no.

“i never really thanked you for saving me from face-planting in front of so many people.” you bring up the memory in jest as you giggle. there was a faint chuckle that the breeze carried as kinich replied, “it was no problem.”

“can i tell you a secret?” you grin at him. you’re not quite sure what spurred you on to suddenly bring this up but truly, it was now or never. “go ahead.”

“i wished you’d be my partner for this project, and wouldn’t you know, it actually happened.”

“oh, i know.”

…

what?

kinich laughs—light like the morning sunlight seeping through summer leaves. you stare at him dumbfounded as red spread across your cheeks. “how the hell did you know?! i never mentioned it before have i?” your voice grew quieter as you trail off. hands coming to shield your flustered face from him.

“no, you didn’t. mualani did though.”

ah. 

he pulls out his phone and flashes you a screenshot of his mualani’s conversation from a month ago. you feel your dignity and pride get sucked out of you as mualani even sent screenshots of you complaining about not knowing how to approach kinich outside of academics, hell, she even had a voice message of her undoubtedly laughing!

“i pulled a few strings for our english class so we’d get paired up,” he said with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“why?” you ask.

kinich smiles, not the small tugs at the corners of his lips he graces you whenever you do something stupid, a full smile where his teeth caught the light of the sun. “i wanted to be your partner, too. since i granted you a wish it’s only fair you grant me one too.”

you try to ignore the erratic flips your heart was doing from his first statement, putting it on the backburner for now as you chuckle nervously. your palms started to sweat and your mind raced with what kinich could potentially want from you. 

“be my partner for life, that’s my 11:11 wish today.”

god, this boy truly wants to kill you.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[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

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@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[inmyheaddd]

can i call you tonight? - xander hawthorne x reader

a/n: i adore autumn with my whole heart but i’m missing those carefree summer romance vibes soo bad 😖 wc: 1.8k warnings: kissing, mild language, verryyy fluffy ur teeth might fall out masterlist

the sun was just beginning to set, the sky looking like something out of a painting, and you and xander had spent the whole day at the beach together — swimming, laughing, and, of course, getting covered in sand. 

now, still giggling from the ‘sand ball’ fight you had with him earlier, you both stumbled toward the beach shower, desperate to wash the sand off of you.

the water came out freezing at first, eliciting a yelp from you as you stumbled back — in turn making xander laugh, before you adjusted the temperature perfectly to your liking.

which, according to xander, was: very, very, hot.

“are you trying to boil us alive?” his eyes were comically wide, furrowing his brows after he stood under it for half a second, jumping back with a shout. 

you simply stood under the shower head calmly, attempting to get the sand out of your hair.

you huffed a laugh through your nose, “xander, it’s not even that hot, i—“

“—were the hours under the scorching sun not enough? you also need to stand under water that’s practically a few degrees away from turning you into a boiled lobster?” he rambled on. 

atleast he was so chill and normal about the temperature, so very calmly expressing his dislike!  

you stifled a laugh as he continued, unbotheredly wringing water out of your hair as you watched him complain. “i’m just saying, there’s a fine line between a shower and a chemical peel.” he said, pointing at the shower with a shake of his head. 

“that water is hot enough to sterilize surgical instruments.” he crossed his arms over his bare chest, as you watched him watch you, a slightly confused furrow in your brows and intrigued smile growing on your face.

a slow grin grew on his face as he raked his eyes over you, taking in your slightly sunburned nose, wet hair, and bathing suit you had picked out with him a few weeks back. 

he lolled his head to the side before he spoke, “i’m sorry— why was i mad again?”

you laughed at his quick demeanor change, playfully rolling your eyes and sighing dramatically before making the temperature colder and motioning for him to step in.  “just get in, you big baby.”

“oh, thankyou very much, i appreciate your willingness.” he responded, bowing his head jokingly as he stepped under the water, his hands finding your lower back instantly. 

but of course, xander being xander, couldn’t just stand there like a regular person. 

no, he shook his head, like some sort of dog sending water droplets and little sand particles everywhere. 

“xander!” you squealed, shielding your face and taking a step back, but you couldn’t stop laughing. 

“oh my god— you’re so annoying!” you squeaked out, still laughing.

he chuckled, taking a step closer to you and placing his hands where they just were, eyes sparkling with mischief as water dripped down his hair. “and you’re so easy to annoy.”

he reached out, gently brushing sand off your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “that wasn’t funny.” you said, biting back a smile. 

it was funny, but he didn’t have to know that.

“i’m sorry,” he faux pouted at you. he didn’t sound sorry, in fact, he sounded a little amused. 

you felt your stomach do a little flip, but before you could say anything, his eyebrows raised like a lightbulb went off in his head, and he grabbed the shampoo bottle from your beach bag on the ledge. 

“here, let me do this right.” he turned to stand behind you, pouring an adequate amount into his hand and then started working his fingers into your scalp. 

you tried to turn your head to ask him what he was doing, but it did feel a little nice to stand there and feel his hands run through your hair. okay, maybe not just a little.

he gently guided your head back forward. "hold still," he said, his voice lower, but with a little hint of that teasing edge remaining. 

when he noticed you weren’t saying anything back, and that if anything you were feeling relaxed, he spoke again. 

“see, would you look at that?" he said softly, "i can be helpful too." 

you could practically hear the grin in his voice, but it was hard to focus on that with the way you felt like you were buzzing under his touch.

you hummed, “yeah, only when you want to be.” you let your eyes close for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“i want to be helpful with you all the time.” you could hear the fake pout in his voice, then it flipped completely, and you heard that grin in what he said next.

“i’d make an excellent stay at home husband for you, yeah?” he joked with his voice all breathy-like. 

“you wouldn’t have to worry about me complaining…” he trailed off, “you know, except about the shower temperature.”

you let out a little chuckle, and opened your mouth to remind him about the time he somehow burnt instant noodles, and that maybe being a stay-at-home husband wasn’t the right path. 

you didn’t get the chance to say anything, though, because he swiftly grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, standing you under the shower head. 

your eyelids immediately squeezed shut, squealing a little with your whole face scrunched up as the shampoo-y water ran down your hair.  you were careful not to get it in your eyes, laughing as xander stepped infront of you and gently moved your hair out of your face. 

you opened your eyes, still squinting a little as you looked up at him. “that also wasn’t funny.” you remarked. “not in the slightest.”

he quirked a brow up, looking like he was biting back a grin, “it wasn’t?” he asked, cocking his head to the side in question.

“no.” 

then a roguish smile started to spread on his face, and you began to deeply regret your words. 

“well then, would you like to see,” he paused for dramatic effect and raised his eyebrows, “something funny?”

you were the one biting back a smile now, taking a step back from xander as you shook your head, already anticipating what he was going to do. 

“…no.”

he rendered the step you took back obsolete as he stepped right on forward, his smile turning into a chuckle as you shook your head. 

there were about three things you were afraid of in this world, 1: a bug getting in your food and you eating it, 2: getting kidnapped and held hostage, and 3: xander blackwood hawthorne’s tickles. 

“xander, i was kidding, i swear.” you rambled with your voice dropping lower, trying to get out of this situation, but xander’s face only scrunched up in laughter as he gave you about 5 seconds to make your case.  

“you’re like, the funniest person i’ve ever met! you’re so charming and hilarious, and —“

your time was over, it seemed, because xander bent down and picked you up over his shoulder, his laughs increasing in volume as you squealed in the secluded beach. “xander! it was a joke, i promise! put me down!” 

as if he was on a quest to become even more annoying he began running to the beach beds, regardless of your protests which were now coming out more as laughs. 

he placed you on a beach bed breathlessly, his hands coming to cup your face as he basically climbed on top of you, then leant down to kiss you.

oh, you weren’t expecting that. 

granted, you were both still breathless, and the two of you were smiling and laughing against each other so much, that you weren’t sure whatever you were doing could be considered a kiss.

then it came. xander pulled back ever so slightly and his hands moved down and jabbed at your neck, then your sides, your arms, anywhere you were ticklish, and you were both equally a laughing wreck. 

you tried to peel his hands off of you as you writhed under him, repeating his name surely over 20 times in between giggles. 

after what seemed like forever, he stopped, putting his hands up in the air as he sat up, and your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

“now,” he said, “was that funny?” he raised an eyebrow, “choose your answer very wisely.” 

“fine,” you huffed, “it was a little funny.” 

his other brow joined the raised one at the top of his forehead, “that was not the wise  answer i thought of,” he muttered, as he slowly started put his hands back down towards you, your eyes darting between his face and his hands.

“okay. okay, yes!” you scrambled before he could literally attack you again, “i lied, it was funny, and not just a little.” 

his hands retreated, “brilliant. very wise answer,” he commented, “well done.” 

he brought his hands up to your jaw and only your jaw this time, cradling your face like he did earlier as he placed a short peck on your lips, but you pulled him in for a longer one. 

he smiled at that— you felt it, and he reciprocated the kiss 10x harder.  

 as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he murmured with his voice low. “question,”

“what is it?” you breathed out, still catching your breath. 

“does it genuinely annoy you when i tickle you like that?” he asked, his voice bare of any teasing, “don’t lie, please.” he added on. 

“besides, i can be very perceptive of micro-expressions, and i can feel your heartbeat against me right now.” 

you let out a little laugh, even though your heart was doing somersaults in that moment. xander was possibly  the most caring person you’d ever met —he was a deeply empathetic person underneath his rube goldberg obsessions and masks of humor he used so often.

“no,” you said truthfully, “i don’t actually get annoyed, i could never actually get annoyed at you. why?” 

you felt his breath hitch against your lips, a very un-xander like manner. “your micro-expressions and heart rate indicate you’re telling me the truth.” he muttered. 

how did he sound hot talking about micro expressions and heart rates?

then you realized, he was expertly dodging your question on “why?”.

“because it is the truth.” you muttered back, smiling a little as you watched him pull back too see your eyes better. 

he didn’t say anything after that— in lieu of words, he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips. he wasn’t one to expose his worries or be vulnerable very often, and you understood that. he’s opened before about people saying he’s ‘too much’ and how it sometimes gets to him, but in all honesty, you could never get enough of him.   

as you felt the warmth of his hands on your face and your lips moved across his in rhythm, a thought crossed your mind: 

if that’s what you get for telling him he was funny, you’d start telling him he’s a world class comedian now. 

tag list: @charsoamerican @ariabedumb @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle

@sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee i love u guys 🙈🙈 if you’d like to be removed or added lmk!!

[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.

[al-the-remix]

don't think I saw Climbing up You Walls but I am so intrigued

I just realized i really fucked up that typing, it's supposed to say "Climbing Up Your Walls" lol, but still, this one is about Tommy's house being in a permanent state of renovation--he's too busy--he has years to make decisions--he doesn't know what he likes--he's too specific--and then in swoops Buck with just enough construction experience not to be a nuisance when lending a hand and applies his foolproof Clipboard Treatment to helping Tommy get his act together (and it becomes their house along the way). Also, there's some mild angst from Tommy's side as he wonders if Buck's feeling as serious as Tommy is this soon into their relationship (Buck's impulsivity makes him nervous).

“See what I mean?” Evan had his hands on his hips, surveying the impact zone that is the central room of Tommy’s 1920s Californian bungalow.  Tommy had tried to tidy up…he really had. But half way through trying to decide if he should take the sawhorses out from the middle of his living room and push the old coffee table back last night Tommy had decided his efforts were futile. He was better off letting Evan get an honest look at what he was signing up for. “It’s not that bad…”  “Evan.” “What? It’s not!” He held his hands up in defence, the tips of his ears glowing siren red.  Tommy just shook his head. “You’re not that good of a liar, babe.” “Seriously,” Evan walked up to one of his more recent projects and examined it, a side table Tommy had begun to re-stain then had to bring back inside during a freak storm…a month ago.  “I was worried it would be more of a hoarding situation or something but besides all the sawdust and power tools, this place is pretty neat.” Tommy glanced sidelong at the stack of tile boxes he’s been using as a side table for upwards of two years. “That’s very generous of you.” “When did you buy this place?” Tommy signed and sat down on the arm of the couch, knowing there’d be a big dust stain on his ass when he stood and not caring. “2008, I never really spent any of my money when I was in the army and spent most of my two weeks between deployments couch-surfing. I got some money from selling my grandfather’s place after he died, but it wasn’t much.” Evan frowned. “So you’ve had this place for almost two decades, it’s hard to believe you haven't done anything to it. ” “Okay, I did all the major stuff.” Tommy started listing stuff off on his fingers as Evan listened intently. “There was some siding that needed replacing, a few windows, and I spent a whole summer re-insulating and re-shingling the roof. The plumbing is updated. The guts are solid. And I spent about the rest of my savings at the time on the garage… It’s more the cosmetics that aren’t my strong suit. “I want to keep the character of the place but there are some things that just need to be updated. And the more I dig, the more issues I find and then I never actually get around to making things look nice.” Tommy shrugs, feeling like maybe he said a little too much. “I guess because it was just me here and I don't really mind living with patchy drywall and holes in the walls.” Evan only looked more enthused. “Look, we can work with this. I've done a bunch of odd jobs over the years, including construction. And I've got two hands. I can help."  Suddenly Evan’s grin dimmed, and Tommy watched as he visibly reeled himself back in, shoving his hands in his pockets and scuffing the toe of his boot against the drop sheet that had been doubling as an area rug. "If you want, of course, I don't want to overstep.” We. No matter what, it was always “we” with Evan. It didn’t matter how fresh this relationship was, Evan had a way of making Tommy feel like no matter what, he wasn't in it alone, whether the “it” in question was couples pickle-ball on Sundays or unpacking decades worth of emotional baggage.  It was an unexpected, yet pleasant feeling Tommy was still trying to get used to. He wanted to trust it with his whole body, lie down in it and let it slowly creep over his face like warm bathwater. He wanted to trust Evan. “You could never,” Tommy assured. “I’d love your help.” The smile Evan gave him lit up his whole face, breathing life into something small and dim nestled in the hollow of Tommy’s chest.  Evan clapped his hands together, already onto the next thing. “Okay, so first I think we start–”