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reidmania · 2 days

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cinema seven | s.reid

summary; spencer goes to see a movie in cinema with derek, when cinema seven breaks down, he offers to help the pretty — all too stressed manger (who he has been too nervous to ask out) fix the projectors.

warnings; guys this fic is actually just for me. cinema manger reader, fem reader, they lowkey break rules but we don’t talk about that, probably boy band haired reid and ooc spencer bc they flirt or banter idk, fluff!! So much fluff!!spencer has been pinning for a while

an; i am a cinema manger 😐 cinema seven is making me want to die because of the bloody projectors breaking constantly. this is probably soo ooc, and also like uncorrectly timed bc it based off how cinema’s are now, not how they were. Whoops. this has been in my drafts for weeks and i hate it.

Dimly low lights lit the theatre room, couples, families and other guests filling the space of the soft red velvet chairs set aligned, finding their seats as the advertisement’s played over the big screen in front of them, the stairs lit with small red lights to ensure everyone knew where they were going, and to ensure nobody missed a step under the dim lit lights.

The room smelt strongly of sweet buttered popcorn, and whatever antiseptic spray had been used to wipe down the cupholders of the seats when being cleaned in between movie sessions, the smell sent a small wave of reassurance over Spencer.

Spencer had never been a massive fan of cinemas, he preferred watching his documentaries or show’s from his couch at home, curled up in blankets, in an area he knew was completely sanity, away from the public and in his own space. However, lately Derek had been inviting him to the cinema more and more after he agreed the first time.

He didn’t necessarily mind, and he knew why Derek had continued to invite him — which was the reason he didn’t mind so much. The first time they had come to the cinema apparently they had picked a bad time, since it was absolutely packed the minute they arrived.

Thats when Spencer had seen you, working on one of the till’s. He had been to the cinema before, but he had never seen you before. As they got closer and the queue shortened, he was able to read the small ‘manger’ badge that hug off the lanyard around your neck.

Explained why he hadn’t seen you at the front before.

His palms had grown clammy as the line grew shorter, whatever Derek had been talking about was completely lost on Spencer, his gaze was locked on your pretty face smiling at a young kid who — spencer assumed — was blabbering about something, hardly coherent over the noise of the people around, but you smiled and nodded none the less as you handed the parents boxes of popcorn.

That was the first time he went to the cinema’s with Derek. Derek had watched the boy stumble over his words as he spoke to you when you served them, cheeks flushing and his gaze never meeting yours for two long. You had laughed and told him to take his time as you wiped down the benches, listening intently. He had taken note of the way you juggled tasks all at once, making popcorn, serving, cleaning.

He had been three times since, the second time wasn’t with Derek, and he honestly didn’t really want to see a movie, he just wanted to see you, unfortunately you weren’t working and he was left seeing a movie he didn’t actually want to watch.

Derek teased the boy endlessly, about his cinema crush. Which was why him and Derek were here now. Again, a movie Spencer had no interest in, but it was busy enough that you would have to be working tills. That was enough to justify seeing a boring film to Spencer.

He had seen you, you had served them and when you smiled widely with recognition of their faces Spencer felt like he was about to pass out with how hard his head was beating. Now he was sitting in the cinema, next to Derek who was shovelling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth before the movie had actually even started.

It was only about five minutes into the actual film when the sound had dropped out.

It was another five minutes before people started talking, before someone had stood up to leave the cinema. Then another two minutes before a worker — not you, a different one, came in and looked over the screen before talking into a hand held radio.

People were growing frustrated, annoyed and restless in waiting. Fair enough, no one really wanted to see a film with no sound. However what made Spencer pinch his eyebrows together with a frown is when you did walk in, and there was someone else standing, obviously taking their frustration out on you.

Spencer looked at Derek, who looked at him at the same time, obviously noticing the interaction before the guy had returned to his seat in a frustrated huff. Then your voice rang out throughout the cinema as you stood to the side, Spencer watched from his seat as your hands toyed with the lanyard around your neck.

“Im really sorry about this guys— We’ve been having issues all day. Just give me a couple of minutes to try to fix the projector then I’ll put it back to before the sound went off, so you don’t miss anything.” You sounded stressed, clearly apologetic as you spoke. There were mumbling that went around the cinema. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hand through your hair before turning to walk out.

Spencer— didn’t know what was going through his mind when he stood up and made his way down the stairs, ignoring the confused splutter from Derek. Spencer made his way out of the cinema, looking around at the foyer area, it didn’t take long to see you.

Standing there, you were talking to another customer, clearly stressed and in a rush but still respectful. He waited patiently before the customer thanked you and walked away. His feet worked quicker than his mind could when he walked up to you.

“Hi” he said gently. Your eyes lifted to his before you looked towards a doorway, you smiled softly. He stood in front of you, your hands continued to fidget, he noticed that, he noticed the way your cheeks were slightly flushed and a few baby hairs stuck to your forehead from sweat.

You wiped your cheek, “Hi- Cinema seven right? I promise I’m getting there — Im so sorry.” You apologised, his heart both warmed and ached for different reasons, one because you remembered what movie he had gone to see, and because you sounded so insanely overwhelmed. There was a slight shake in your tone, he noticed.

He nodded, “yeah- But uh- I just- What’s the issue?” He asked, he wanted to slap himself in the face for the way he stuttered over his words. He was embarrassing himself, and wasting your time and he knew he should probably just turn around and walk back to his seat but he couldn’t.

A sigh left your lips, “I honestly have no idea — all day the sound has just been going out, it works for a bit but it’s just — so annoying. I’ve tried restarting it like ten times — i can’t seen any obvious issue, I really am so sorry.” You continue to apologise, he hated that you were apologising for an issue that was out of your control, its not like you went and broke the projector.

“No- Its okay. I just — I could look at it — if you want? If thats okay? I just, uh.. know quite a bit about them..” He offered, because you looked so stressed and so overwhelmed and he just wanted to help in any way he possibly could. This was something he knew he could do, he was smart enough to figure it out.

You sighed and smiled gently at him, “Thats really nice and I would totally say yes — like i genuinely would but we can’t uh— have customers going up there.” You mumbled out, almost as if you were genuinely disappointed by the fact.

He nodded in understanding because it made sense, of course you couldn’t. Projectors weren’t cheap by any means and if you just let customers go up there then chances are they would all be broken within minutes.

“Im not- I work for the FBI, I-I can show you my badge.” He mumbled, hand already reaching out for his pocket to pull out his badge and flick it open. Now, Spencer didn’t use his job as a personal weapon often; however this was different. This was you, and you were oh so pretty.

He watched as your eyes trailed down his hands to his badge, reading over the information before your eyes flickered back up to his — you were considering it, he could basically see the mental debate you were having with yourself. He hoped you said yes, because if not then he had wasted an incredible amount of your time and was actually just stopping your from doing your job.

Then you huffed out a small breath of air, “You know what you’re doing?” You asked.

He nodded instantly, “If it helps I have an IQ of 187 and have three pHD’s?” He offered the information, not to impress but to provide some sort of comfort to the clear worry over your features.

Yours eyes met his and you just looked at him for a minute — trying to find any hint of dishonesty in his features, but when you didn’t you huffed out a small ‘okay.’ Before turning around, Spencer followed you.

His mind was spinning. If he thought he was flustered before now was something else. His skin felt so hot he wanted to dive into a pool of pure ice, despite knowing that it wouldn’t actually be nearly as enjoyable as it sounded right now.

“Please don’t make me regret this. And please— for the love of everything above, don’t break anything, i do not need to loose my job right now” you had mumbled as he followed you up the stairs after you unlocked the door. He smiled gently at your words and the trust you were putting in him, maybe it was naive and stupid if it was someone else who had bad intentions, but you took your chances with him.

Spencer steps up to the controls, eyeing the mess with a focused look, his fingers tracing over the switches and buttons like he’s reading a puzzle. “Wow,” he says after a beat. “This is… pretty old-school.”

You let out a short laugh, leaning against the doorway. “Yeah, tell me about it. I’m honestly surprised we haven’t had more breakdowns.”

He glances over at you, his expression softening. “You’ve been keeping this place running pretty well, considering.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your face flush. You quickly shake it off and nod toward the panel. “So, you think you can fix it?”

Spencer nods confidently, already getting to work. He’s methodical as he checks the wires and makes adjustments, explaining the technicalities as he goes. You pretend to understand most of it, but really, you’re just watching him, impressed by how he seems to know exactly what to do.

After a few minutes of working in silence, he glances at you again. “You know,” he says with a small grin, “this isn’t the first time I’ve saved a situation with some quick rewiring.” He grows more comfortable under your gaze as time goes on, the nerves still fluttering through his body, he tries to keep his hands as steady as possible — because you were trusting him.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself.

“Yeah. One time, I had to disarm a bomb using only a circuit board and a pair of wire cutters.” He pauses, eyes sparkling with that same quiet confidence. “This is a little less stressful.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I should hope so.”

The conversation continues like that—light, easy, playful. and the tension you’ve been feeling all evening starts to melt away. There’s something about his calm demeanor that puts you at ease, like you can trust him to handle things, not just here, but in general. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one.

Finally, he steps back from the panel, brushing his hands together. “That should do it.”

You blink, glancing at the screen where the sound has suddenly returned, loud and clear. “You fixed it?”

“Looks like it,” he says, his voice soft but full of satisfaction.

A wave of relief washes over you. You hadn’t realized just how tightly wound you’d been until now. You smile, unable to hold back your gratitude. “Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much this helps.”

Spencer shrugs, looking a little bashful. “It’s nothing, really.”

But it’s not nothing. You can feel that. He’s helped you out, more than just with the projector, and the gratitude in your chest grows warmer.

You glance at him, hesitating. He can see it in your gaze, your eyes are on his, a warm smile on your face. He has to stop his mind from drifting away.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, your voice softer now, more personal. “Is there anything I can do— Free tickets, do you need more popcorn?— That doesn’t do it justice. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know” You rambled and his heart fluttered.

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to wonder what he’s thinking. Then, he meets your eyes, his expression a mix of uncertainty and hope. “How about a date?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart skips a beat.

It takes a moment to process what he’s asking, but when you do, you feel a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re asking me out?”

He nods, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “If you’re free. I’d really like to take you out sometime.”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly, hands coming back up to fumble with the lanyard on your neck — for maybe the hundredth time. You look over his face as id you don’t believe him for a moment before you let out a breathy laugh, and for a moment his heart dropped with the idea of rejection.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’d like that.” You said. And he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

Spencer liked the cinema’s a lot more now.

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yjhzies · 2 days

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“Cheers to youth.” — YJH

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . comfort . angst

⋆ pairings : jeonghan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader being scolded by their boss, crying (there shouldn't be any more, lmk! <3) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · Always portrayed as "perfect" feels like a nightmare now. But with Jeonghan, everything will be fine.

⋆ - note : got scolded by the teacher for no valid reason and my inner writer came out ^^ (ty ig and welcome to depression era) | trying angst for the first time, I think I'm going insane :( stay safe jeonghannie 🌷

"Love?" Your boyfriend's voice was soft, and everything you needed to hear after a disastrous day at work.

You gripped your phone tighter and gathered the courage to respond.

"Hm, hannie,"

"Are you almost off work? Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I'm almost done with work, it's okay, I'm fine." Your voice breaks with the words 'I'm fine', because you were clearly not. But, he didn't have to know.

You, who is known as the 'Perfect' one in your workplace, were feeling like a failure. Not that you liked the way people labelled you as 'perfect', but you did want to meet the expectations of your boss. You've always had this habit - feeling the need to meet people's expectations, afraid of disappointing others. This, something you have had since school days, was becoming a nightmare.

Your boss was rumoured to have had a break up; something that is completely none of your business - you knew. So when he lashed out at you, simply because of his gloomy mood, you were in disbelief.

"I heard you've been focusing on everything except for work? I remember the time you were considered as the perfect manager, but now? I doubt that. You've been lacking behind everything. From doing the files to arranging the meetings properly. If you keep doing this, I doubt you'll be here in my company for long."

Those words haunted your mind, and it kept repeating. For no reason. You knew you did nothing wrong, you knew you were not in the wrong here.

But words hurt so much.

Especially when you're trying your best.

Especially when you feel you've done enough, and you hear this.

"Are you sure?" Jeonghan asked, worried because you have had to stay at work for long, and it was unusual.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Silence soon followed, and you took a heavy breath to stop the tear threatening to roll down your cheeks.

"Are you really, baby?" He asked softly. As if he knew everything despite not knowing anything.

You didn't expect that question. All the tears you had held back finally escaped your glossy eyes, and you broke down. Right in the middle of a bus stand, but thankfully, no one was there.

"Baby?" Jeonghan felt a surge of panic wash over him. The sounds of your muffled sobs echoed in his ears through the phone.

The last thing Jeonghan wanted was you crying all alone.

You slowly lowered your hand, the phone in your hand dropping to the floor as you continued weeping. There was no one around to help you. To ask if you were okay.

"Please, baby," he softly pleaded. You were there alone. All by yourself. "Please answer me."

He grabbed his car keys, opened the location tracking app that you both agreed to use in emergencies and rushed out of his apartment. The drive was gonna take at least 20 minutes, but he couldn't care less.

All he knew right now was that he had to be by your side.

"I'll be there, don't worry, okay?" He tried to calm you down, despite panicking himself.

Everything faded into the background, as you finally let all the feelings burst out in the form of tears. All the taunting you had endured throughout the day was driving you insane.

It wasn't your fault. You did nothing.

You don't know when time passed by, and Jeonghan's car pulled up on the road - but you felt a hint of relief at the sight of him.

He got out of the car in a hurry, running up to the bus stop where you stood. Very slowly, you turn your gaze on him and he catches a glimpse of you - puffy eyed, cheeks red with warmth, tremors still coursing through your body, dried tears that were being replaced by fresh ones.

"Hannie..." You choked out, sobbing.

Without wasting a second, he threw his arms around your torso, engulfing you in a warm hug. He rested one of his hands on the back of your head, caressing it, as he wrapped his other arm around your waist protectively.

You've never felt so secure and safe in someone's embrace before.

You closed your eyes, placing your hands on either side of his shoulders, and began sobbing again. But this time, you knew Jeonghan was there to protect you.

"Shh, I'm here, it's all gonna be okay." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if those words were only meant to be heard by you. So soft, so loving, and it conveyed so many emotions to you.

He felt like home. Like the warm hug and kiss you crave after a long tiring day at work. Like the cold, but relaxing drop of rain on your skin.

"I'm- I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, don't be, please."

You're grateful. So grateful that you both don't have to know the reason to simply be by their side. The reason can be unknown, or known later, but what matters is that you're there for each other.

– taglist : @gyubakeries @k1eev @haowrld @armycarat2612

[check out masterlist - pinned post to be added to the taglist!]

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luveline · 2 days

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Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk.

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert.

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become.

Behind you are two female classmates.

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by.

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise.

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn.

Hotch steps in.

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.”

“About what?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says.

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.”

“Then you have no reason to stay.”

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you.

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.”

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave.

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors.

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated.

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range.

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“What?”

“They do it to me every time I’m here.”

“They do?”

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.”

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?”

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly.

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.”

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.”

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.”

“I’ll use that one, too.”

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.”

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask.

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say.

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.”

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily.

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually.

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.”

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes).

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.”

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream.

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.”

“He’s six,” he corrects.

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.”

“Then tell me about it, at least.”

“You saw the most of it.”

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal.

Your situation is not the same.

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again.

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.”

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.”

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble.

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

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peachysunrize · 2 days

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand… okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding.

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?”

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews.

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fluff #🍊dreams

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homunculus-argument · 3 days

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So I was walking home from therapy today - it was rainy when I left home and windy as hell now that I was coming back - and there is this hill on my way home that has a stone by the road that's large enough to sit on. Random rocks the size of an arm chair, a car, or a small house aren't uncommon around here, remnants of the ice age and all. Anyway, there was a rock on a hill by the road, in a place that's highly visible from all directions.

And approaching it, first thing I saw was a bright red spot, that I first figured was someone's lost coat that a helpful passerby had hung up on a branch or something, before I got just a bit closer and noticed that someone was still wearing it. There was some guy sitting on the rock, browsing his phone. Occasionally little tufts of smoke rose from him.

I'm the kind of 30 to whom anyone under the age of 25 just looks 15, and anyone under 15 looks 12, so this guy could have been like 22 or something but I'm guessing late teens anyhow, and I figured that alright, never seen anyone sit in that spot but I guess he's just there waiting for friends to show up or just having one last smoke before going home or something. Not my business. And right then, the wind changed, now blowing from his direction, and I very distinctly caught a whiff of

the devil's lettuce.

There's no mistaking that smell for anything else - not anything else around these parts, anyhow - and while I personally have no strong feelings about the green one way or another, it was still none of my business. Not my business why this kid had decided to smoke his stuff in such a random highly visible place in highly visible clothing at broad daylight 3 pm on a wednesday, but boy was it hard to walk past him without looking at him like

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 3 days

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Mister Targaryen's Curious Bookshop

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, slow burn, Aemond being obsessed with the reader, a little bit of self-loathing and low self-esteem (Aemond), flower shop/bookshop AU

Summary: Aemond thought he would be alone with his bookshop for the rest of his life. Until the flower shop next door came back to life.

A/N: This fic had been sitting in my WIPs for ages. @hotd-bigbang gave me the motivational push to finally write it. And @targaryenrealnessdarling visualised my words so wonderfully, helping me imagine and feel this fic more.

Masterlist Taglist

Aemond had been working at "The Curious Book Shop" since college. It had become his refuge from the chaos of his family life and a break from his studies. He would hide in the deepest corners, surrounded by rows upon rows of books, studying for exams or reading for pleasure.

It was during one of his early morning runs that he stumbled upon his fate. Just around the corner from his apartment complex, he noticed a small bookshop. Something about it pulled him in as if it were calling out to him. The smell of old books gently wafted into his nostrils, and he felt as though he had entered heaven.

Aemond wandered the shop slowly, lazily browsing the shelves. His fingers grazed the spines of both old and new books. He spotted classics like *Frankenstein* and beautifully bound editions of Jane Austen novels, but there was also an entire section dedicated to fresh voices, new writers waiting to be discovered.

Time slipped away from him until the bookshop keeper, a kind elderly man with snow-white hair, a stout build, and round glasses that made his eyes look larger—like a slightly overfed hamster—tapped him gently on the shoulder. With a warm smile, the man told him it was closing time.

Aemond felt a pang of disappointment. He had only explored half of the shop and longed to uncover every hidden corner.

From that day on, he became a regular. His visits were so frequent that the old man eventually offered him a job. Aemond accepted without hesitation; it was a dream come true to work in a place filled with books.

Though Aemond had completed his business degree at Queen’s College in King’s Landing, he didn’t pursue the corporate path his mother and grandfather had carefully laid out for him. Instead, he chose to put his skills to use at the bookshop. His mentor appreciated his knack for numbers and calculations, and Aemond soon took over managing the shop’s finances and budgets.

For a long time, Aemond was simply an employee. His mentor guided him through all the shop’s nooks and crannies, revealing the secrets hidden deep within the endless rows of books. But when the old man passed away, Aemond was shocked to discover that, in his will, he had left the bookshop to him.

"Old Valyrian magic," his mentor had said one day as they placed new arrivals on the shelves near the cashier, "is rooted deep in every corner of this bookshop—in every rug fibre, dust grain, and wooden splinter. It is like the skeleton of this wonderful shop."

Aemond could feel it too—the raw power lingering behind closed doors, in the creaks of the wooden floor, and the way the air seemed to hum with ancient energy. Or, at least, he thought he did. The truth was, sometimes the shop seemed to have a mind of its own. Doors would appear where there had been none before, opening to reveal strange, hidden rooms. Other times, doors would remain locked no matter how hard he tried, as if the bookshop decided he wasn’t ready to enter.

One day, after stocking the historical crime books, Aemond’s curiosity was piqued when a door swung open just as he turned away from the shelves. This door, unlike the others, seemed to beckon him. It led him not to another room but to an entirely different dimension—a space outside the normal laws of reality.

There were no books written about the bookshop itself, at least none he could find, and so he started documenting his explorations in a leather-bound notebook. In it, he scribbled down every detail, theory, and oddity he encountered. He spent hours after closing wandering the ever-shifting landscape of the shop, venturing through realms that seemed to exist only within its walls. The bookshop was playful—mischievous, even. It would open random doors, then lock them again, guiding him through magical adventures far beyond the world outside.

One room in particular had become his favourite: The Hidden Library. It was a vast, seemingly endless space filled with row after row of books, stretching far into the sky. There were books of every kind—small, hand-sized paperbacks, large encyclopedic tomes, volumes bound in leather with golden lettering, some in languages long dead. History, botany, astrology, science, philosophy—the scope of knowledge was overwhelming.

The towering shelves formed a maze, a labyrinth of wisdom and mystery. At the heart of this labyrinth sat a large oak desk, polished to such perfection that it gleamed like glass. Above it hung an ornate chandelier, casting a warm, amber glow over the desk, perfect for reading or studying in the comforting silence of the library.

But the labyrinth had its whims. The shelves shifted at will, reshuffling the paths and the books. It was both awe-inspiring and, at times, deeply frustrating. There were days when the maze seemed to toy with him, taking him in circles or preventing him from finding the desk. Yet, Aemond knew it was the bookshop's way of showing off—revealing itself bit by bit, granting him access to its secrets.

Aemond often imagined that the Library of Alexandria must have been like this—filled with treasures of knowledge, books and scrolls that held the wisdom of the world, guarded by time and mystery. Here, in his bookshop, he was one of the lucky few to uncover these treasures.

But The Hidden Library wasn’t the only room that fascinated him. There were other hidden chambers—each with its own magic, its own allure. He spent so much time exploring these secret places that he realized the bookshop had become more than just his workplace. It was his refuge, his second home, and perhaps, more than anything, a living entity he had come to understand like a dear, old friend.

Next to the magical bookshop stood an old, battered flower shop. The windows were dusty, and the paint on the rusty frames—once a bright blue—was flaking off. The sunblinds were torn and faded, their colour washed out from years of rain and weather damage.

Aemond’s mentor had once mentioned that the old owner couldn’t keep the shop open because her hands were no longer as nimble as they used to be. “The arrangements she made were as magical as this bookshop,” he would always say. “A shame she had to close it. She had no one to take over.”

The old bookshop owner had seemed melancholic whenever he spoke of the previous florist, smiling wistfully as if he had secretly admired her, perhaps even loved her in silence. Little did he know that he would share the same fate, leaving behind his beloved shop.

But one day, the flower shop next door sprang back to life. The scent of spring flowers began to fill the street, drifting into Aemond’s bookshop. The windows were freshly cleaned, and a new, bright yellow sunblind had been installed, replacing the worn one.

A week after the shop reopened, he saw her. She had messy, short hair in a half-up, half-down style, and a soft smile on her rosy, full lips. Her eyes sparkled as she quietly mumbled to herself, carefully arranging cut flowers in a vase outside the shop.

Aemond didn’t want to admit it, but he enjoyed watching her. Lost in her own little world, she crafted magnificent art with flowers, leaves, and other natural materials. He marvelled at her creations every time he passed by, often stopping to buy a bouquet—sometimes just to strike up a conversation, sometimes just to be near her.

It was nearly closing time when she appeared in front of him, a bright smile spreading across her lips. Her hair was messy again, with leaves and colourful petals woven into it—likely by accident, as some softly drifted to the ground whenever she turned her head.

"Hi, I'm your shop neighbour. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner; I had to unpack everything," she said, holding out her hand with a bright grin. "Lovely," Aemond thought as he shook her hand.

“I’ve been to your shop a few times. I should’ve introduced myself, too,” he mumbled sheepishly, a soft blush dusting his pale cheeks. His ears felt like they were on fire.

Her hand was so small compared to his, soft but marked with fresh scars—probably from working with thorny roses or other prickly flowers. She was always creating art, in any form or shape, and it showed.

Her voice was full of joy, and unlike so many others, she looked at him without a trace of disgust or discomfort. She didn’t flinch at his scar or the eyepatch. She didn’t even avoid his gaze, which most people did. She looked him straight in the eyes, seeing him as a whole person. A warm feeling washed over him at that realization—it had been so long since he’d felt this way.

“Oh! Yes, I remember you now. You always buy two bouquets at a time!” she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly with her hands. Her energy was infectious, Aemond noted, and despite the late hour, he felt more awake just watching her. “You must really like your life partner!”

His blush deepened, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “Something like that,” he mumbled, feeling the heat rise in his face.

Clearing his throat, he squared his shoulders, trying to regain his composure as he towered over her. But she only smiled more, undeterred by his flustered state.

“No problem,” he whispered gruffly, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He averted his eye, staring down at the cashier counter. Why was he so flustered?

“Can I look around? I know you’re closing soon, but this is the only time I can visit because of my shop hours,” she asked.

He nodded solemnly, and her grin widened as she skipped off into the depths of the bookshop. Aemond couldn’t help but stare after her, his heart still pounding wildly in his chest. His usual calm demeanour was slipping, and his hands were growing sweatier with every passing second.

He watched her roam through the aisles, her fingers gently brushing the spines of books. A soft smile played on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with the joy that seemed to radiate from her. Her skin looked smooth, her hands had been as soft as silk.

Her hair was up in a messy bun, with loose strands framing her face perfectly. He tried not to stare too much, but he couldn’t help himself. She was beautiful—radiant, even. The flower girl from next door.

It was no longer unusual for her to visit him after her shop’s closing hours. Since their first meeting, it had become routine, and Aemond didn’t mind keeping the shop open a little longer for her. He enjoyed the peace, but even more, he enjoyed her presence. She brought a sense of chaos and life into his dusty, meticulously ordered existence—something he had always carefully avoided, but now realized he needed.

This time, she told him in advance where she intended to wander, mindful not to repeat the incident from her first visit. That day, she had innocently ventured into one of the magical rooms, and Aemond hadn't heard from her for hours. Panic had set in when she failed to respond to his calls. By the time he found her, it was nearly midnight, and both of them had early mornings ahead. She explained that a door had appeared before her, opening on its own, and she hadn’t been able to resist stepping through.

Luckily, it was The Hidden Library she had found, a room Aemond knew like the back of his hand. The labyrinth of bookshelves had shifted, subtly aiding him in locating her more quickly than it usually would allow. Other rooms might not have been so kind, and Aemond had been relieved when he spotted her amidst the endless rows of books.

When he found her, she hadn’t been panicked or distressed. In fact, she had a stack of books balanced in her arms, her face lit with pure delight. "This is magnificent!" she had said, her voice filled with awe as she wandered between the ever-changing shelves.

His heart had pounded in his chest when he saw her, but not out of fear anymore. Something else stirred in him—his heart skipped, or maybe it leapt with joy, something akin to a yearning he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aemond was no stranger to intense emotions, but this was different. It wasn’t the fiery anger or the cold, bitter loneliness he was used to; this was warm, fluttering, almost sweet in its intensity.

Crushes were for middle schoolers, weren’t they? He tried to tell himself that, but there was no denying it anymore. Watching her flit through his magical bookshop with that infectious enthusiasm, her joy at discovering something new—it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in years.

He stood there, watching her as she made her way through the aisles, completely at ease in the strange, shifting shop. She never seemed bothered by the oddities or the magic; if anything, it only seemed to fuel her curiosity and joy. And as much as he tried to keep his distance, Aemond couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

Maybe crushes weren't just for middle schoolers after all.

Aemond had never imagined he'd find himself standing in a magical greenhouse with the quirky flower shop owner next door, watching her flit between plants and books with the kind of excitement that only she seemed to possess. The realisation that he had a crush on her had grown stronger with every bouquet she brought him, each one slowly wilting or drying out under his care despite his best efforts.

When she playfully teased him about his inability to keep her gifts alive—remarking that she’d thought a magical shop would do the job for him—Aemond could only smile sheepishly. He had no explanation, other than perhaps his unfamiliarity with the deeper, older magics of the place. Maybe, he mused, if he had studied Valyrian magic more closely, he’d have been able to keep her flowers flourishing.

Then one day, they found it—The Glass House. It appeared out of nowhere. He had restocked some sections of the shop while she was aimlessly wandering around again. His eyes sometimes drifted over to her. Watching her read passages out of books quietly. Making a note of which book she held longer so he could give it to her when he bought another bouquet from her.

They both turned into the same aisle when the door appeared right in front of them. Just right at the end of the rows of bookshelves where usually a wall was.

She stared at him with big eyes. “Is this normal?” She looked up at him with a bewildered expression. He nodded nonchalantly, he was used to it. “The bookshop likes to play.” She giggled gently at his deadpan words.

“Tell me more.” Her bright smile made his lips quirk up slightly. “Well, I don’t know how the magic works. The old owner couldn’t tell me either. But I found out the doors mirror the moods, likes and needs of the person standing in front of it.”

“Like the Room of Requirement?” Aemond snorted at her question. “More or less. The door stays and only disappears when it isn’t needed anymore. To make room for another door. A few doors had disappeared when my mentor died. It felt like the shop had mourned him.”

He let his eyes wander over her face. To check if she understood what he was saying. She nodded lowly. She seemed to be deep in thought. Mulling over his words carefully. “There are multiple doors in the bookshop. Not one like in Harry Potter. Maybe even hidden ones. But most of the time they are prominent.”

She nodded softly. Looking at the door that had appeared in front of them. Vines seemed to wind around the wooden front like they were alive. Forming a large tree taking up nearly the whole door. To her, it seemed like the tree in the Nordic myth, Yggdrasil. "So if I would go through one of those doors, it is like I would go through a portal. Like the wardrobe in Narnia?” Aemond snorted as he put another book onto a shelf, holding “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe ” in his hands. Coincidence? In this shop, less likely.

“I see the shop more like the Tardis.” He mumbled. He was reaching up to restock the “Lord of the Rings” bundle packs back on the fantasy shelf. A classic he seems to run out of every week.

“Because the store seems small at first glance but it gets bigger with every new door opening?” She stood beside him, holding the stacks of Agatha Christi novels for him. “Yeah, like that.” He smiled at her, a rare occurrence that had happened more often since they spent time together. She hummed thoughtfully. “I like my Narnia reference more.” Aemond chuckled. “I am hurt.” He pouted playfully at her, making her giggle.

Suddenly the door opened next to her. She shrieked, which made him look up at her. His body was alarmed. Ready to fight whoever dared to scare her. He blushed slightly when he realised what he was thinking. And that he would fight a door for her.

Her fright was not long living. She was too curious to be scared for long. “I can make it up to you. Go on! Go inside and I follow you, Doctor.” He laughed gently. Putting away the last of crime mystery books before turning to the green door. “Well… Geronimo!” He mumbled playfully into her ear. Making her blush.

He turned the golden knop. With a gnarling sound, it slowly opened. A breeze of warm wind blew into their faces gently.

Aemond held the door open for her to go inside. She shyly thanked him. Her eyes grew big at the sight of what lay behind the inconspicuous door. Aemond had to keep up with her as she rushed inside the door.

She stopped in the middle of the room. Her breathing hitched in her throat as she took in the room overgrown with lush green plants. Her smile reached up to her ears. Her small body vibrates from excitement. “Look! A greenhouse library!” He smiled as he watched her flitter around the room.

Strangely, it wasn’t as humid as a typical greenhouse. It was pleasantly warm or cool, depending on what they needed at the time. On either side of the house stood hip-high plant tables made of stone, filled with plants both known and unknown, their blooms and colourful leaves on display for visitors.

In one corner stood two cosy-looking emerald armchairs with a table between them. They looked so inviting as if they had been waiting for him and his companion. Friend? he wondered about what he should call his shop neighbour. His little flower girl? His heart pounded against his ribcage. What was he thinking? His little flower girl? She was barely his friend—acquaintances, maybe? Slowly he started to confuse himself, distracting him from marvelling and listening to her.

But his heart knew what his mind refused to admit: he wanted her. He wanted to explore his magical bookshop with her.

They moved on. Going into the garden section. She already held three books in her hand. Opening them at random pages to read them at the same time. It was an endearing sight he didn’t like to avert his eyes.

She talked animatedly about the various plants, suggesting that he put her half-dead flowers from the front of the shop in the Glass House so he wouldn’t be so sad when they died. She stopped short when she realized she was alone in another corner of the greenhouse, having abandoned the orchids to return to the centre of the room—back to the two emerald armchairs. Back to him.

The sight of her wide-eyed excitement as they entered The Glass House was enough to make Aemond's heart leap. Plants of all kinds surrounded them, lush greenery spilling over the stone plant tables. Despite the greenhouse setting, the air was a perfect balance of warmth and coolness, catering to their comfort. In the centre of the room were two emerald armchairs, an inviting sanctuary in the midst of the botanical splendour.

He watched her eagerly explore the space, picking up books on gardening and flipping through their pages with a joyful energy that he found utterly endearing. She chattered on about the plants, suggesting with a grin that maybe he could bring her dying bouquets here, where the magic could keep them alive.

Aemond was about to respond, but the words caught in his throat. His mind wandered to the sensation of her small, scarred hand in his earlier—a hand that had felt soft, delicate, and utterly natural in his. He couldn't stop the warmth that spread through him, a feeling he wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with. What was she to him, really? His heart wanted to call her something more than just a shop neighbour or even a friend. Something like "his flower girl" seemed to fit, but it made his chest tighten with a strange kind of longing.

As he stood there, lost in thought, he barely noticed her wandering off to the other side of The Glass House. He only snapped back to attention when he realized she had returned, her presence suddenly close again. She held out her hand, a playful glint in her eyes. "I saw another door opening," she said softly, her voice filled with excitement. "Your bookshop is telling me something. Want to come with me?"

He looked down at her outstretched hand, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite name. Hesitation flashed briefly before he took her hand, its warmth seeping into his. “Let’s explore the rooms together, then,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with resolve.

She led him through the new door, and they entered a room unlike any other he had ever seen. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, filled with swirling stars, planets, and constellations that shimmered and moved like they were alive. The smell of ancient books filled the air, wrapping around them like a comforting, familiar blanket. It was peaceful, serene—a perfect contrast to the excitement they’d felt in The Glass House.

They both stood in silence for a moment, awestruck by the beauty of the room. Later, they would come to call it "The Sorcerer’s Room," convinced it had once belonged to a powerful wizard—a figure out of legend, someone like Merlin.

But for now, Aemond was content. Content to explore the wonders of his magical bookshop, not alone this time, but with her by his side. And more than the magic of the shop, it was her wide-eyed wonder and infectious joy that captivated him the most. As they wandered deeper into the room, he felt her hand tighten around his, and for the first time in a long while, he realized how much he enjoyed sharing this world with someone who made it feel even more magical.

Since the discovery of The Glass House and The Sorcerer’s Room, she had spent most of her time in both rooms—studying the plants or curling up in the emerald armchair to read. She looked like a cat when she did it.

In The Sorcerer’s Room, she would lie on the floor and point out different constellations. He would lie next to her, hanging on to every word that left her lips.

“Black tea, steeped for nearly ten minutes with a dash of milk.” He set the large yellow cup with white daisies in front of her on the small coffee table. She smiled softly up at him.

“Thank you,” she said. She had lost track of time as she read in the emerald chair in The Glass House, a blanket she had crocheted herself thrown over her lap. At his sweet gesture, her heart thudded harder against her rib cage.

His heart leapt again at her soft smile.

“Am I here often enough now that you’ve already memorized my tea-drinking habits?” she chuckled softly.

He grinned involuntarily. “It’s an odd way to drink tea,” he teased, “but I like odd things,” he wanted to add.

She giggled softly, making his heart flutter again, before taking a sip. She closed her eyes and let out a content hum.

“Perfect,” she whispered, her bright eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the light in The Glass House, like stars sparkling in the night sky.

His body warmed at her smile. A rare smile crept across his own, thinner lips. He leaned slightly closer, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume—so fresh and light. He wanted to fall asleep with his face nestled in her neck, to wake up to her warmth every morning.

The realization hit him hard. His body grew tense, every muscle and fibre rigid as he looked down at her. His knees nearly buckled as he stared.

Her perfect little smile haunted his dreams and every waking moment. Her eyes hypnotized him whenever they caught his gaze. She was an enchantress, though she didn’t know it.

He cleared his throat and sat down in the other emerald green armchair next to her, trying to focus on his book. But every five seconds, he lost his place, and after a few paragraphs, he had no idea what he had been reading.

The reason was clear: she, his shop neighbour. The sweet florist next door. A woman so kind and warm that he wanted to envelop her in his arms, keep her close, and never let her go.

He was growing possessive. He caught himself growling at male customers from time to time, surprising even himself. He had never acted like this before. Not with his ex, Alys, or with Floris, the girl he dated for one semester at university.

This was different—a deep, primal urge. To be close to her. To take care of her. To provide for her. To be hers, just as he wanted her to be his.

The more he thought about her, the more horrified he became at how deeply in love he had fallen. His heart raced, his hands grew sweaty, and they trembled lightly, clammy with nervous energy.

The most fatal mistake he made at that moment was looking over at her. His lone, piercing pale violet eye drank in her worried features.

Strands of hair had fallen into her face, and he watched as her nose wrinkled slightly, one strand tickling it. Her bright eyes examined him carefully, her worry growing the longer he sat like a statue in the emerald armchair beside her.

“Everything alright, Aemond?” she asked, her voice soft. The sound of his name on her lips was enough to make him swoon. So sweet, so innocent.

“Yes,” he rasped, clearing his throat. “All is well. Never been better.” He rambled, trying to regain his composure.

She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unconvinced. He felt trapped, like a rabbit staring into the eyes of a predator. What was she doing to him?

He couldn’t keep feeling like this—trapped in his own body. It was a sensation he had tried to avoid since childhood, an unhealthy way to cope with anxiety. He knew that well enough.

Aemond abruptly stood from the armchair and rushed out of the room into the main selling area of the bookshop, trying to hide between the shelves. But he could hear her soft footsteps following him. She had thrown the blanket aside and followed him as fast as her shorter legs could carry her.

He tried to outrun her, taking sharp turns every few steps but suddenly stopped at a dead end. Cursing himself for not paying attention to his own shop’s layout, he glared at the wall. A part of him wished for a new door to appear so he could disappear, but nothing happened. The wall remained still, unmoving.

She chased after him the best she could. Her legs were much shorter than his, and while he could take one step, she needed four to keep up. She tried anyway, her eyes fixed on him as he turned corners.

But one of his turns was too fast. He managed to shake her off, leaving her out of breath and disoriented. Her mind raced, trying to figure out where he had gone. Her gut told her to go left, but her head insisted on right.

Finally, she found him, standing rigid at the dead end. His back stiffened as she approached. "Why are you running from me?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with confusion. He didn’t turn, as if trying to ignore her.

She stepped closer. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" he immediately shot back. She jumped, startled by the suddenness of his response, a gasp escaping her lips.

Hearing the sound, he turned toward her. He had scared her—a thing he vowed he would never do. "I’m sorry," he murmured, reaching out, and she let him touch her arm. Her baby blue jumper felt soft under his hand. "I’m so sorry," he repeated, his voice quieter this time.

"It’s alright," she said, stepping closer. "I’m just a jumpy person."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining even in the dim light, like stars in the night sky.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered under his breath, but she heard it, smiling bashfully.

"Thank you," she replied, her cheeks heating up.

They moved closer—toe to toe, chest to chest. Aemond looked down at her while she looked up.

"You have beautiful eyes," she mumbled.

"No, I don’t," he responded, his tone harsher than he intended.

She frowned at his self-deprecation. "They’re both unique in their own way, and I think they’re beautiful." Her protest was met with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Don’t tell me what to think," she said, glaring at him playfully.

He chuckled. "If you say so."

She huffed in disbelief, frustrated by how low his self-esteem was. Words weren’t enough, so she let her actions speak for her. She leaned up and kissed him gently.

His breath caught in his throat as their lips met, and a tingling sensation swept over his body. Slowly, he pulled her closer by the waist, careful not to make her stumble. Her arms wrapped around his slim frame, her fingers digging into the wool of his jumper.

The kiss lingered, electric sensations running through both of them. Eyes closed, they held each other tightly. But eventually, they had to come up for air.

Their chests heaved, eyes wide and pupils blown, but big grins spread across their swollen lips. They didn’t need words—silence spoke volumes, carrying more meaning than a thousand words ever could.

288 notes · View notes

trulyumai · 3 days

Text

Fall Baking

pairing: eddie munson / gf! reader

synopsis: it was finally fall. more rain, more sweaters. this also meant the return of the infamous, ‘Hawkins Fair.’ eddie could care less about it really, but you were ecstatic.

warnings: none, fluff only!

A/N: im baking like crazy right now so this automatically came to my head. I’m ready to drown in pumpkin bread and warm coffee.

Eddie knew you loved the fall.

When the leafs started to turn, the weather getting colder and sbittier than normal, yeah, that was when that thing happened to your eyes.

They’d get all shiny and well, cute.

He was the opposite. He could do without the hindrance of rain bearing against him anytime he wanted to take out the trash or walk to the corner store.

But seeing you so happy about little sprinkles of condensation made the man weak.

So he detested the cold weather a little less for you.

And you know what the cold weather brought?

Fall excursions.

Aka: The Fair.

“Guys, you’re not gonna believe this!” Slamming your lunch down on the table, your body molded against his in one solid motion.

Eddie grunted out in surprise, but it didn’t stop you from talking about the surprise you had in store.

“The fair is coming back!”

Only stares were given, Gaven looked over at Jeff who was returning the same empty, confused look.

Eddie jumped in with a clearing of his throat, being the best boyfriend ever he had to save the day, right?

“No way, baby!”

“Way!” You giggled, relaxing into Eddies hold as you dug out the celery sticks in your little box.

“And, the school is accepting student stalls, that’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Why is that fun— ow!” With a harsh kick to Gavin’s knee, Eddie changed the subject.

“That’s cool babe, you could do a baking themed one. Your treats are to dieeeee for.”

“Oh yeah! Been a while since I got the iconic Mrs. Munson brownies,” Gavin sighed out. Already imagining the pillowy, chocolaty goodness that was always oozing with warmth.

“That’s not what I named them.” You laughed, “Buuuut if you boys help me out with the stall I promise to bake one thing if your choosing!”

This garnered the attention of the hellfire club fast. Eddie was almost jealous at how entranced you got everyone.

“Anything?”

“Can you do cakes?”

“Ooooh the brownieees!” Almost everyone talked over one another, already fantasizing about the treats they’ll ask for.

“Uhhhh babe?” Eddies rings were cold against your thighs, your dark green skirt rid up against the tops of his legs, showcasing your pretty and soft skin.

“Mhm?” You replied, already turning towards your wild haired boyfriend.

“And what do I get? I mean I love your baking, obviously! but I can get that anytime.”

That was… true.

Damn it you thought you had everyone sinched into the plan. But of course Eddie would try to sneak something else into play.

“Well ummm,” he stumped you this time.

Furrowing your brows, you bit lightly on the inside of your cheek. Thoroughly searching your brain for anything Eddie might approve of.

Clothes? No, Eddie only wore his favorite staples anyway. Maybe you could offer to clean his room? No, you just did that last weekend when he was too busy snoring on the couch.

Think, think!—

“I knooow what I want.”

You knew that tone. That deep drawl that makes his voice come out in a low, teasing hush.

Eddie indicated you closer with just a wag of his index finger.

You felt the weight of his breath hit the side of your face, warm and light.

“I want,” he breathed in this time, dragging his lips closer and closer until they brushed against the side of your jaw.

“You, to spend the night, every nite this week.”

“Eddie!” Rolling your orbs you pushed his face away. “That’s kinda impossible. You know how my parents are—“

“Pretty please, sweetheart? It’s been forever!”

“I just spent the night on saturday!”

“That was literally forever ago.”

“Eddie.” Your fingers brushed with his temple, lightly pushing against them.

“That was two days ago.”

He only shook his head in rebuttal, moving his legs until your frame was once again close to his.

“My point still stands. Forever ago! And you need my help, who will keep these idiots in check?”

“Hey!” A few club mates responded back, but quickly went into their own baking conversations.

“Not all week. Two days,”

“Three!” Eddie challenged. With a mocking squint to your eyes you huffed out a breath.

“Fine! You win. Three days.”

“Yes!” Eddie cheered, smothering a sloppy kiss on your cheek and raised a hand to high five Gavin.

What a dork.

“You won’t regret this baby. I just got new snacks, cleaned my room—“

“You cleaned your room?”

Eddie cleared his throat and his long fingers came up to play with the loose hair around your neck.

“Well.. no, but it’s still clean from when you did it— ouch!”

Grabbing the man’s soft cheek, you began to pull.

“Hey hey, easy easy, I was just joking!—“

“Sooooo funny, Eddie.” Laughing, you watched as his fingers came up to the pinched spot, rubbing it with a soft tenderness like you had plucked the skin right off his face.

Grabbing at your celery you joined into the groups conversation. Trying to remember each and every goodie the gang wanted you to bake.

This is gonna be a long week.

But at least it’s fall, right?

….

Right..?

#fluff #x reader #fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #netflix series

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sparklingblu · 3 days

Text

Pulse

Sohyun X Xinyu

P.S: I'm trying a new style of writing here.

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There's something calm and comforting about the crowded coffeeshop. The hissing of the espresso machine, the bustle of human conversation, the clinking of ceramic cups - they all seem to blend together to create a new yet totally familiar world. That's the reason I've come here. To be swallowed by this background noise and extract myself from reality if just for a moment.

I sit in my usual corner, my elbow against a cup of cappucino which has long since gone cold and a textbook opened but largely ignored. I have read the same line for the last thirty minutes but none of it seems to stick. I'm too distracted by the noise and my own thoughts, adrift in this place.

University is supposed to be a place where you "find yourself" but I seem to have lost my sense of direction as soon as I step my foot here. Everyone around me seems so sure of what they are doing, raised chests and energetic steps. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to keep my head down, pretending like I belong while I don't even know who I am yet.

Outside, the leaves are just starting to turn yellow - the afternoon light casting a lazy red glow on them. It's the start of a new season though I barely feel like anything have changed in this new life I'm settling into. It's just a struggle to fit in from day to day.

I bring my lips to the rim of my cofee cup, grmiacing as the bitter taste washes over me. It doesn't come as a surprise. The only reason people come here is for the atmosphere - to mingle and jingle . The cofee is just a necessity to stay.

I glance at the moving world from my seat near the window. A steady flow of students rush past the platfrom on the otherside, their laughter echoing through the glass. It's as if they know a secret I have yet to understand.

I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles, retreating into the soft fabric. Nearby, my phone buzzes with a notification from a group chat that I never have been a part of. I don't bother to check and it becomes one of the many sounds that fills the place.

I used to think university would be different - a total contrast to my mundane high school life. That I'd step into the place and everything will click into place. Like the rest of my life have been a prelude to this. But here I am. Already chickening out in the first week.

I chug down the remainder of my cold coffee, shove my books into the bag and was about to leave when a burst of cool air sweeps through the place, followed by the jingle of the bell above the door. And I happen to be one of those people who instictively gawk at the newcomer.

There she is, waltzing into the room like she owns it. The energy of the outside world seems to radiate from her body. There's nothing loud or brash about her but she draws attention anyway - an easy confidence that ripples through the place. She brushes a stray strand of hair our of her face, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

She stands out naturally,moving as if she's utterly home in her skin, in this place. It's the kind of self-insurance that seems totally foregin to me. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in her shoes. Not like I will have a chance. She's everything I'm not.

Her hair is slightly tousel, falling in loose waves that looks almost intentional. She's wearing a plain white shirt, its crispiness a total contrast to her slouch jeans.

She orders a cofee - espresso, no sugar- and while she waits, she cracks a joke at the waiteress, painting her cheeks red. All this time, my eyes linger on her with a strange sort of fascination, watching like she's the only form of enteratinment I have had in a long time. And it's true in a way.

She takes the plastic cup and the change from the waiteress with a smile. She turns and that's when the trouble starts. I have expected her to leave as swiftly as she has come. Someone like her probably have more important businesses than slothing around.

Her eyes dart around the café and it takes me a moment to realize she's looking for a seat. So she's staying. But luck doesn't seem to be on her side today beacaue every single seat has been occupied. Well, except..

"Hey" she says, and it's casual, like we have been friends forever. "Mind if I sit there?"

She's gesturing at the seat across from mine, which I have strategically left empty to create a distance between me and everything else. I hesistate a tad bit too long before I response.

"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.

She sits, sliding the cup of coffee on the table with a soft thud. I have expected her to pull out a phone or do anything a stranger sharing a table with another stranger would do. But instead, she leans back and scans the room before her eyes come to rest on me.

"I have seen you before" she speaks, offering a slight smile as if she can read my thoughts.

I blink, caught off-guard. No 'hello' s. No 'hi' s. Straight to the point.

"Have you?" I say, sounding awfully stiff.

"Yeah. You have been in the same corner for the last week. You come here a lot?" She sips her coffee, eyes still on me.

I shrug. "Not always. But yeah. It's quiet"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the packed café. "Quiet?" she repeats, half laughing. "Compared to the dining hall, perhaps"

Just then, I realize how rudiculous I must sound. "Well, not today" I admit, lowering my gaze back to the books. "But usually"

She laughs again, but not mockingly so. "I get where you are coming from. Sometimes, it's good to be alone even though you are not truly alone" She couldn't have worded it better.

"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.

A brief silent passes between us. She sips from her cup again. If the cappucino here is strong, I can't imagine what espresso would taste like. But she shows no sign of distaste.

"So, what do you study?" she asks, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

"Literature" I answer, shifting in my seat. For some reason, talking about my major always make me feel like I'm giving something away. Like I'm exposing myself.

"Ahhh Literature" She repeats the word, as if she's trying to decipher its meaning. "That must be....intense. Lots of complicated story about lots of different stuffs"

I nod, still unsure where she's headed. "I guess so. It's more about trying to understand them through their words. Deep fry your brain sometimes"

She huffs. "I can imagine. That's why I try to understand them through their heads, it's less exhausting that way. I'm in psych"

That makes sense. She has this way of speaking, as if she knows what the other party will say before they even open their mouths. But at the same time, respecting their boundaries.

I'm still trying to think of a valid response when she lifts her cup and stare at the remaining coffee like she's studying it. Then her gaze lifts back to me, eyes bright.

"You know, espresso reminds me of people"

I blink, surprised at the strange comparison. "Espresso? Why?"

She beams, leaning in. "Espresso's small right? Concentrated. If you take a sip, there's this rush - sharp and intense. It hits you so intensely that if you are not prepared, it can be overwhelming"

She takes a sip, as if giving me time to register her words. "But if you take it in bit by bit, the taste changes. The bitterness mellows out and you can feel each layer of richness underneath"

I stare at her, my tired brain struggling to understand what she's implying. Why espresso, out of all things?

She leans back and continues. "People are like that. Emotions, life, they come at you in the most unexpected times - swift, chaotic. Sometimes it can be too much to handle. But if you give it some times, let it breathe, you start to see the little parts that makes it up. That's when you start to discover yourself"

I can't help but smile. "You have thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with espresso"

"Not the one here, I hope"

She smiles, instantly getting what I'm implying. It seems she's a regular customer too. "You gotta work with what you have. But you get the point"

"So....people are like espresso? Is that why you study them?" I question as she finishes up the last few drops of her coffee. This girl really likes espresso.

"Exactly" she snaps. I'm not sure if she's joking here. "It has always been my dream to do a thesis on espresso and emotions"

"Are you....?" I drift off and she bursts into laughter.

I feel the slightest hint of joy, like by asking that stupid question, I have contributed to her amusement in some way.

"Serious? No way. I'm not risking my degree for my unhealthy addiction. The last person I explained this to leave the table as soon as I'm done"

"Well, I'm still here"

Does it sound too cheesy?

"I can see that" She glances at the clock on the wall, frowning slightly. "I should get going. I have a class to prepared for"

I nod, feeling that familiar twist that comes with endings. "Right. Of course"

She stands, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you" she says, her voice warm. "You can call me Sohyun"

"Xinyu" I reply. It sounds so much easier to say my name now.

"Xinyu" She lets the word roll off her tongue. "I like it"

"Thanks" She's already walking to the door when I response.

With one last glance, she re-enters the reality outside of this comforting bubble. I feel a strange sense of anticipation, like the conversation I just had have dropped some hint to solve this puzzle called life.

Sohyun and Espresso and People.

How peculiar.

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The walk back across the campus was pleasant. The scene that welcomes me when I enter my room is not.

As I enter, I'm greeted by the familiar chaos of Yooyeon's world - clothes draped over the chair, a half eaten bag of snacks spilling out on the desk and music playing softly in the background. The mess have become such an essential part of the space that without it, you doubt you will recognize the room.

Yooyeon looks up from her bed, where she's lounging with her phone. She's dressed causual with a twist as usual - an oversized grey t-shrit with the words "You Shall Not Pass" emblazoned across the front and swetpants of the same color. As soon as she notices me, an infectious grin spreads across her face

"Xinyu! You are back!" She exclaims, eyes bright. "Did you finally make a friend or are you still on a first name basis with the library?"

"Ha ha. Very funny" I retort sarcastically as I shove my bag on the bed. "But yeah. I guess so"

She immediately sits up, her attention solely on me. "Wait, what? For real?"

I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. That's the thing about Yooyeon. It's like she has her own respirator of dopamine. Always on her feet. Not a hint of worry in those blue eyes.

"Her name's Sohyun. We met at the café" I answer, keeping my tone casual. One wrong octave and Yooyeon would immediately detect it.

"Ooooh, a café conversation, huh? Sounds like the opening to a great novel" She laughs, flopping back down to her bed. "What did you two talk about?"

I shrug, though I have anticipated the question. "Just espresso and....people"

Yooyeon grins even wider. "Don't tell me you spill your heart out. Cuz that would be really really-"

"It's nothing like that" I quickly interrupt. "It was just small talk. She's really easy to talk to"

"Easy is good. You need easy" Yooyeon bounces off her bed and start rummaging through her cupboard box of numerous books and posters. It has been a week and she still hasn't bothered to arrange her stuffs.

Not a moment sooner, she pulls out two bright blue mugs. "We should celebrate your burgeoning social life. I have got hot chocolate mix somewhere"

I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"

"Impossibly fun" Yooyeon winks as she pours the hot chocolate mix into the mugs and adds some hot water, the steam curling up. "You are on your way to becoming a social butterfly. Next thing you know, you will be hosting literary salons"

"Sure. After I finish this semester's readings" I reply lightly though the idea terrifies me.

Yooyeon hands me the steaming mug with a triumphant grin. "Here's to new friends and the magic of coffee! If you ever need a social coach to take you on this emotional espresso journey, I'm always available"

I take the mug from her, the warmth of it seeping into my palms. "No thanks"

"Aww come on. I can be the Ron to your Harry. Or the Peeta to your Katniss. Wait, nevermind. That's not a good idea" Yooyeon says, never failing to showcase her obsession with fiction. If Sohyun wants to do a thesis on espresso, Yooyeon would probably make one on Hunger Games. But her dream is closer to being a reality, given how she's in media studies.

"Isn't that the guy....who got like brainwashed or something?" I try to recall the memoies of the movie from time immemorial.

"Yeah. Poor Peeta..." Yooyeon says with a dreamy tone before she brings the mug to her lips.

"Fuck! It's hot" She yelps, immediately recoiling and almost spilling the hot drink.

"Who? Peeta?" I ask.

"No. The hot chocolate. Wait, no. I mean yes. Peeta, not this god awful drink" Yooyeon says while she furiously fans her mouth.

I can't help the chuckle that escape my lips. "I have always liked that Gale guy better"

Yooyeon's eyesbrow knit at my remark. And I already know a debate is headed my way.

"For starters,..."

And so it begins. I participate anyway although I know Yooyeon would win in the end as she always does. I'm not geeky enough for this.

But it doesn't matter. Because she's the only friend I have for now. Debating on fictional man not to be the odd one out doesn't seem so bad of a trade.

Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?

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I'm up early the next morning. The kind of early that makes the world feels like it's still deciding whether or not it should go back to sleep. I look at the bedside clock - 5:55 am. Ha. I beat the alarm today.

Soft gray light shines through a hatch between the curtains, the world outside still enshrouded in the morning mist. All is quiet except for the occasional footsteps and soft snores of Yooyeon , whose face is half buried in the pillow. I smile, knowing she won't be up for at least an hour. The girl's have been up all night finishing an assignment.

I shiver slightly as the cool air grazes my skin when I pull the covers off. The mornings are getting colder, the first hints of autumn sneaking in. And it means I will have a harder time exiting the warm embrace of my sheets.

The chill in the air clings to me as I head towards the common bathroom. The hallways are empty at this time of the day. Not much early risers here. This building, Bradford Hall, is one of the older dorms on the campus. The floors creak with each step I take and the white paint on the wall have faded with age. For no reason, the place indulges a sense of legacy in me. Like I'm a part of something greater. Maybe it's the smell of chamomile that always hangs in the air.

The walk to the bathroom doesn't take long since my room's on the first floor. There's no burden of stairways. It takes five minutes tops for me to clean up - brush my teeth, wash my face and a couple arrangement of my messy hair that will stay the same way after. I still don't understand how some people manage to spend hours in the bathroom. Making yourself presentable shouldn't be that hard.

When I come back to the room, Yooyeon has tossed over, almost draping off the bed and murmuring something that sounds like a spell. She might be visiting middle-earth, Hogwarts and god knows where.

I cross over to my side of the room, the territory determined by an imaginary line Yooyeon have drawn on the first day. The room is barely big enough for two twin beds, a couple desks and a shared closet. My space is plain, simple. Almost empty except for the small lamp and the stack of books. It works fine by me.

Yooyeon's, however, is a total contrast. Her walls are covered with posters of whatever fictional book or movie you cam name. Not to mention the figurines that line her desk. "They give me motivation" Yooyeon has said. In my opinion, I wouldn't want an inch tall Darth Vader monitoring me all night. I bet Yooyeon would consider that 'hot' too.

I rummage through my closet without any initial dress code in mind. There isn't a need to worry. People wouldn't be up yet. There's no one to impress. I decide to go simple pulling on a bright blue sweater over my shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. I slip on my worn-out sneakers, their familiar creaks greeting me. After a glance in the mirror, I decide to let my loose locks fall freely. I grab my bag and leave, careful not to wake Yooyeon, who's on the brink of falling off the bed.

The campus seems almost unrecognizable at this time of the day - the morning light bathing it in a warm glow that makes everything looks like it belongs to a painting. The air is still, undisturbed by the usual hustle of students. I take a deep breath as I make my way down the brick path.

The clues of autumn are scattered here and there - the air crisp and the leaves tinged with green and yellow like they haven't decided their favorite color yet. To my left, the towering main library roses like a cathedral, fog clinging to its ebony walls. The arched windows reflecting the sun rays.

Further down, the old lecture halls rise up on either sides of the path. They look like relics from the ancient past, a time unbeknownst. The ivy covered walls adding into its timelessness.

They weren't joking about this place being 'old'.

Ahead, the dining hall comes into view, no less younger than its confidants. With the dark wood beams and the high ceiling, it looks almost like a castle. The stone steps leading to the entrance are worn smooth by countless steps and the wooden doors, though thoroughly polished, creaks slightly as I push them open.

Inside, the place is most empty, save for a couple students scattered around. The smell of coffee and pastries fill the air, comforting in a way that makes me want to stay for hours. I grab a tray, throws on a couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. My morning appetite have never been impressive.

I takes my usual place near one of the stained glass windows, spots of light showering on the table. I love this place. It's quiet and peaceful. Maybe except when Yooyeon's accompanying me.

I'm haflway through a cheese sandwich when the door swing opens.

Sohyun.

She walks in with a group of friends, at least five of them, talking and laughing. Their energy seemingly announcing they belong here.

Sohyun's dressed in almost the same way at our first meeting - a loose white shirt and cargos. And she strides across the hall with the same confidence from that day.

I didn't mean to stare but my eyes follow her, weaving through tables with her friends trailed behind. Like maybe our encounter was an interlude to something more.

I know I should go back to my sandwhich but when the soul craves, the body has to suffice. She turns my way just for a split second and without thinking, I give her a small smile. It's nothing special, really - just a 'Hey. I remember you from yesterday' kind of smile.

But Sohyun's eyes sweep over me as if I'm not even there and soon, she's swept up with her friends again, laughing at something they said.

It stings. Though it has no reason to. It's like a tiny blow that leaves you off-balance but not strong enough to knock you off your feet. Before I even realize it, my lips have pursed into a tight line and I'm already staring down at the unfinished plate of sandwiches. Maybe, yesterday was just a fever dream.

I didn't expect much, really. A nod, a wave, a smile - a sign of acknowledgement. Anything. I tell myself not to care. It's rudiculous to yearn for approval from someone you shared a coffee table with. But I can't help the cold weight settling in my chest.

I glance up at her again. She's still at the counter, taking her sweet time choosing her breakfast. The way she holds herself is so natural, like she belongs anywhere she goes. I envy that about her. I have always been needed to prove to earn a place in society while she just waltz through everything without a care.

Why is it bothering me so much?

Maybe I should be grateful for her brief cameo in my life. Or maybe it would have been better if we never met. Then she will just be another student who comes to eat breakfast. Not Sohyun.

But now, it's infecting me.

I take a sip of my orange juice, focusing on the cold liquid that wash down my throat. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's jst a stupid plea for attention. It doesn't matter. I have always been good at finding meanings in small thing but sometimes, small things are just......small. There's no more meaning to them than what they are.

Maybe that's all this is.

I watch her from the corner of my eyes as she settles down at a table with her friends, her laughter ringing out across the hall again. And for a momet, I almost want to laugh. Not because anything is funny but beacause how easily she moves through the world, through life.

And how easily she has forgotten me.

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Over the next week, autumn have crept in like a quiet exhale. The trees have turned amber and yellow, their leaves falling in slow spiral onto tbe brick paths. The air has become sharp enough to sting my skin when I go out. It's the season of change, like people say. But this year, there's something unsettling about the sudden shift. Like I'm not ready for new beginnings.

Most of my time is spent surrounded by books and notes. Despite the constant pressure, it's nice to finally have a rhythm to life again. The rhythm that my fear of rejection have indulged. I have recovered quick and Sohyun has faded into nothing but another human whose life happen to cross ways with mine.

It's nothing to dwell on.

I sit at my desk, my table lamp casting a faint glow on the pages of 'Jane Eyre'. The word file opened on my laptop is still in the same state as it has been in the last hour - celan and empty. The syllables for the essay due tonight doesn't seem to be manifesting anytime soon.

I tap my fingers idly on the edge of the desk, glancing at the clock. It's nearly midnight now. The campus has gone still save for the ocassional laughter and footsteps of latecomers from the corridor. Peaceful. Quiet. But still not helping me collect my scattered thoughts.

I'm about to give up for the night and go to bed when the door suddenly flies open with a buest of energy and Yooyeon, in all her chaotic glory, stumbles into the room. She's panting, yet she has this wide grin plastered on her face.

I look up from my desk, startled by the sudden enteance. "Hey"

"Hey" she says, plopping down on the bed. "Guess what?"

I raise an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever dramatic new she has to deliver. "What?"

"Yeonjun wants me to meet him at one of those fancy clubs. And he asked me to bring a friend" She grins even wider. "Guess who that friend's gonna be"

I blink. "Not me"

Yooyeons gives me a look, the kind that says she's not giving up until I give in. "Yes, you. Come on, Xinyu. You have been locked up here for so long. You need to get out"

"I've been studying" It's not enitirely a lie but it's not the truth either.

But Yooyeon's having none of it. "Studying, hiding, same difference. You are coming with me. Plus, it will be fun. Who know? Maybe you will even find a cute boy" She winks, then whispers. "Or a girl"

I'm not quick enough to surpress the blush that creeps up my cheek. "Yooyeon!"

"What? Don't tell me you still can't forget Ms. Espresso"

"This has nothing to do with her" To my surprise, my voice comes out shrill. "I'm just-"

"Blah blah blah. More excuses" Yooyeon cuts me off. "Come on, Xinyu. You will be doing me a huge favour. Yeonjun thinks I have no friends"

"You do have friends"

"Yeah. But no one would be available this late. And I'd rather go with you. You are....less dramatic"

Despite myself, I can't help but chuckle. "You mean 'naive' "

She shrugs, throwing a pillow at me. "You know what I mean. I don't need to worry about you throwing up or passing out or sleeping with the wrong guy"

"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"

"Exactly" Yooyeon snaps. "So, what do you say? We'll go meet Yeonjun, hangs out for a bit. Then, we can come back to your books if you want"

I glance at my laptop, ths text cursor blinking in and out of existence as if reminding me of the marks soon to be lost. It's tempting to stay here but Yooyeon's right. Perhaps, I can take a breather just this once.

I sigh, pushing my chair back. "Fine. But don't expect me to drag your drunk ass back here"

Yooyeon lets out a triumphant squeal, practically bouncing off the bed. "Yes! You won't regret it"

She's already heading to the door when I throw a sweater over my shoulder. Yooyeon's dressed in her usual fit - jeans and a Lord of the Rings shirt, the one that says "You shalll not pass".

"Seriously? You are wearing that shirt again?" I ask, eyeing her.

Yooyeon shrinks away in mock offense. "Excuse me? Have some respect for the classics. Everybody loves Gandalf"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Let's go"

As soon as we step out of the building, we are hit by the cool night air. The campus is fast asleep, the street lamps casting long shadows across the brick paths. It feels peaceful, almost serene.

Yooyeon immediately starts chattering about this new Draco-Harry fiction, her hands waving animatedly as she speaks. I listen, half-distracted, my thoughts finding their way back to a topic unexplored for some times - Sohyun.

Maybe that morning in the dinining hall doesn't mean anything. It's jut a moment, and moments pass.

Despite the countless convincements, a part of me still wonders. What if she had smiled back? What if things have happened differently?

"Earth to Xinyu. Helloooooo" Yooyeon's voice break through my thoughts and I realize she has been talking to me this whole time.

"Sorry" I mumble, recomposing myself. "What were you saying?"

"I said, what do you think of Yeonjun?"

"He seems...nice" I answer, though I barely remember the guy.

Yooyeon grins, clearly pleased. "I know, right? He's the sweetest. And he's really into Harry Potter too, so that's a bonus"

I hum in agreement. Yooyeon's world seems so simple - vibrant, full of energy. Meanwhile, mine feels like the polar opposite. I'm always overthinking, second-guessing.

"Hey" Yooyeon nudges me with her elbow. "You are being all broody again. Stop it. We are going to have fun"

"Yeah, okay" I say, offering her a small smile.

I breath in the autumn air, hoping that mayb, I can stop cllinging onto a loose thread.

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The club is a short walk off campus, tucked into a narrow street line with food trucks and cafés that come alive at night. As me and Yooyeon approach, the distant music grows louder, the rhythmic bass reverberating beneath our feet.

A small line of people snaked out of the entrance, marked by a neon sign displaying its name "The Tavern". The building itself is unassuming, with dark brick walls and small windows dimly lit from the inside.

When we step in, the place opens into a large space with low lighting. The bar run along one side while the rest of the room is a dance floor, dotted with tables around the edge. The air is buzzing with music and energy - people pressed close together, shouting whatever on their mind over the DJ's beat. It's an enitrely different world from the quiet, orderly campus.

"There he is!" Yooyeon yells over the music, wavibg wildly at someone near the bar. I follow her gaze and find a guy leaning against the counter, already grinning like a madman. Yeonjun. I recognize him from the first (and the only) time Yooyeon introduced me. He seems to reflect Yooyeon's restless vigour - a match made in heaven (or Hogwarts, whatever).

"Yeonjun. You remember Xinyu, right?" she says, taking her place next to him. He offers me a smile, not too over the top, but friendly enough. "The one who's always drowning in books?"

I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"

"Nice to meet you again" He says, his voice smooth. "Yooyeon's always talking about you"

"Only good things, I hope"

He laughs. "All good. Don't worry"

Yooyeon reaches for Yeonjun's half-finished shot of whiskey on the counter but get stopped by a firm grip on her wrist.

"Eh eh eh. You are ordering your own drink, miss"

Yooyeon pouts at Yeonjun's remark. "You don't even want to share a drink with your girlfriend?"

"You see. The reason it's called a 'shot' is that it's meant to be savoured by a single individual" Yeonjun's voice has gone unsettlingly serious.

"And they say Xinyu's the smart one" Yooyeon says, punching his arm.

"And they say men are the agressors" Yeonjun retorts. "How do you even deal with this witch, Xinyu?"

Before I can think of anything to say, Yooyeon grabs his arm. "Before I cast a casual Crucio on your sorry ass, we should get to the dance floor"

Yeonjun didn't argue with that. The banter is just their way of communicating. "Xinyu, you should come too" he invites.

"Uh.....no. I'm good. You two go ahead"

"Are you sure?" Yooyeon asks, despite knowing nothing can budge me. "It wil be fun, I promise"

I shake my head, smiling. "I will pass. I think I will just....get a drink"

Yooyeon is silent for a moment, then she's off, dragging Yeonjun into the sea of bodies. I watch them disappear, Yooyeon's laughter echoing back, carefree and loud, like she's exactly where she belongs.

Me, though? Not so much. So, I head to the bar,sliding onto one of the stools and order a Coke. There's no need for anything stronger. I can barely tolerate anything that have the slightest bit of alcohol and that's speaking from experience. The bartender barely looks at me as he hands it over, already moving on to his next order.

I take a sip and glance around. The place is packed, bodies moving in rhythm, couples tangled up in each other and some loners who are just swaying, lost in the music. It's loud, chaotic and I feel totally out of place. It's not that I don't want to have fun - I just don't know how to in place like this. Maybe my definition of 'fun' is different from everyone here.

I lean back against the bar and take another sip. The girls here are all glitter and glamour - tight dresses, high heels and bold colors, shimmering under the disco light. Like the night is made for them.

And then there's me in my oversized sweater and faded jeans. My white sneakers seems an imposter to their sleek heels. I have been so eager to get out of my comfort zone for once that I forget to do the necessary preparations.

I search for Yooyeon's familiar face in the crowd, but she's lost in the restless horde, probably twirling around with Yeonjun. I'm happy for her but all I feel is...detached. It's pathetic. I know. I'm too old not to know my constant fear of being the outsider, of being denied.

I'm halfway through my coke when I feel someone slide into the seat next to me, the barstool creaking under the weight. I didn't look up, hoping that it's just another stranger who comes to mind their own business. But then, he clears his throat, loud enugh for me not to ignore.

"Hey" a voice rings out, smooth but with a cocky edge.

I glanced over and there he is - perfect hair, gleaming jacket and a gold chain around hid neck. I might not be the best at socializing but I recognize the type immediately - the kind that's used to getting everything he wants. I can see it from his look, like he spends too much time in front of the mirror. He gives me a lazy smile, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come here often?" He ask, leaning a bit too close. His cologne is strong and mixed with the sour stench of his breath, it's impossible not to flinch

"No" I say flatly, taking a sip of my coke.

"That's a shame. You should. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone"

I bristle at that, the compliment feeling more like an insult. "I'm not really into clubs" I reply, my lazy tone desperately showing my lack of interest.

He either doesn't know or care. Instead, he leans closer, his elbow casually resting on the bar next to me. "You just haven't found the right sort of people. I could show you a good time, you know"

I swallow a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, thanks"

But he only smiles wider, as if my rejection is part of a game he's used to playing. "You sure? Cuz I don't see anyone with you here. How about I buy you another drink? Something better than coke"

"No, really. I'm good" I say, more firmly this time, hoping he will get the message. But the bastard won't take his eyes off me.

"You are playing hard to get, huh?" He tilts his head. "You wouldn't believe how many girls like you I have seen. Acting all tough, only to end up in my bed at the end"

That did the job for me. I straighten up in my seat. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, come one. I'm just-"

"Fuck off, Taeil"

A voice cuts through the tension and I instinctively turn my head toward the source. Sohyun stands a few feet away, arms folded. Her shirt has been tucked into her dark jeans, casual but sharp. Her eyes narrow onto the guy who is now known as Taeil, as if she's used to seeing the scene plays out.

Taeil straighten up, his smile wavering. "Relax. We are just talking"

"No, you are not" Sohyun steps closer, gaze hard and unblinking. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are going to walk away and leave her alone.

Taeil's smirk returns but it's not so sure as before. "And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"

Sohyun's lips curve into a smile, one colder than any I have seen from her. She pulls out her phone, holding it up for him to see. "Let's see. I don't think your parents will be so happy to see their son acting like a druggie. Plus, it wouldn't be good for either you or your parents if the video end up in the wrong hands"

All the color drain out if Taeil's face, leaving him gaping. "You are blaffing" He protests, though the panic is clear as day in his voice.

"You know I'm not" Sohyun smiles like a predator who has cornered its prey. "So, fuck off"

For a moment, there's silence, the music filling in the temporary gap. Taeil shifts on his feet, his confidence all gone and finally, he lets out a sharp breath. "Fine. Whatever" His eyes flash with fury. "But this isn't over yet"

Sohyun gives him a mock wave, wriggling her fingers as he strides out of the club.

I exhale, realizing I have been holding my breath. I look over at Sohyun, who's still standing there with her phne. A neutral look has returned to her face. Like the Sohyun just a moment ago was a totally different person.

"You ok?" She asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I - yeah. Thanks" I reply, still a little stunned.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile, genuine this time. "That guy's a creep"

I nod, processing everything that has happend in the last few minutes. Sohyun, the psychologist. Sohyun, the saviour. What isn't she?

She pulls up the stool next to mine, the one Taeil has occupied just a moment ago and settles in. I shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of her presence, of how close she is. The bar light cast little shadows on her face, illluminating the little details on her face I haven't noticed before. The tiny mole on her nose catches the light first, then the one under her left eye. They are so small, barely there but they stand out now that I'm seeing her up close.

"First time here?" She asks. How she knows, I have no idea. Maybe it's my my clothes that give it away.

"Yeah" I admits, a little sheepishly. "It's not really my kind of place"

Sohyun raises an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Yeah, I figured. You don't exactly look like you are having the time of your life"

I let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

She smirks, her eyes flickering over to my outfit. "Just a little"

I glance down, fidgeting with the edge of my sweater, suddenly even more aware of my appearance. "It's not really.....I don't usually go to places like this"

"So, not a party person?" Sohyun's voice is more curious than judegemental.

"Not really" I admit. "I'm more of a...stay-in and read type"

Her smile grows and for a moment, the chaotic sounds of the club faded as if we are alone. "Well, you are here now. So might as well try to enjoy it"

She's so easygoing, so at ease with herself it makes me want to throw caution to the wind too. But then, I remembered that morning in the dining hall and my stomach twists. The memory is still nagging at the back of my mind. I bite my lower lip, debating whether or not I should bring up the subject.

Sohyun takes a sip from my nearly empty can of coke and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. "I saw you the other morning. At the dining hall"

Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"

"I smiled at you" I say. "But you didn't see me"

Or act like you don't, I thought.

Her eyes widen for a moment before she speaks."Wait, really? Xinyu, I'm sorry. I didn't see you"

I blink. "You didn't?"

She shakes her head. "I swear. If I'd seen you, I would have smiled back. I promise. I guess I was just in my own head then. I'm sorry"

Her words are soft, delicate and sincere. It unravels the knot in my stomach I have pretended to be non-existent. Still, she could be lying but I decide to trust her,realizing how much I care about what she thinks of me.

I galnce away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "It's okay" I mumble, sipping from the empty can of coke. "I just thought....maybe I'd misread things"

Sohyun gives me a small, warm smile. "You didn't misread anything. I'm sorry if you feel like that"

She's apologizing too much now it's starting to get uncomfortable. So I dismiss it with a nod.

Sohyun shifts in her seat, her eyes flickering down to my sweater, which have bunched up awkwardly from the way I have been sitting. Before I can fix it myself, she reaches over. Her finges gently tug at the hem of my sweater, smoothing it down without a second thought.

"There" she says, her hand lingering a moment longer more before she pulls it back.

I'm still processing the gesture when almost absentmindedly, she reaches out and brush a stray strand of my hair out of my eyes. Her fingertips skim the side of my face and for a moment, time slows down - just enough for me to notice the way her eyes soften.

"There you go" she says, leaning back. "Now you are perfectly suited for the night life"

We both smile at that and for a heartbeat, I swear I can feel something shift between us. Something I can't quite name. Something that might as well be a misinterpreted signal.

The air settles into a quiet lull, the ghost of her fingers still tingling on my skin. The warmth of the moment hangs awkwardly between us and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, actuely aware of the silent between us.

"So..." I clear my throat. "Do you come here alone too?"

The corner of her mouth quriks up like she finds my question amusing. "Alone?" she repeats. "No. Not really. I'm here with my friends most of the time"

I nod. "So, are they here tonight?"

She glances towards the dance floor. "Yeah. They are somewhere out there" she says with a small laugh. "I kinda slipped away for a bit. Needed a break"

A break. From what, though? The noise? The people? The club?

I hesistate for a second. "Not really your scene either?"

She gives me a sideway glance. "It's fun but...sometimes, I don't know. It can geta little old. Same people, same music"

"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"

She taps her fingers against the bar, thoughtful for a moment. "What about you? Do you come here yourself or did Yooyeon drag you here?"

My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"

Sohyun chuckles softly. "We are friends on instagram. She followed me first, I think? She seems fun"

I can't help but laugh at that. "Yeah. She's definitely fun"

Sohyun tilts her head, as if searching for Yooyeon in the crowd. "She told me she's your roommate when I mentioned I see you in one of her stories. She's been hyping you up"

"She -what?" I stare at her, feeling the panic rising in my chest. "Hyping me up?"

Sohyun greans, leaning in just close enough for me to catch a faint scent of her perfume. "Yeah. She says you are a lot cooler than you let on"

I shake my head, laughing under my breath. "That's Yooyeon....being Yooyeon"

"Well, she's not wrong" Sohyun adds, her eyes catching mine for a split second before she goes back to staring at the dance floor.

The silence settles in again, like an early intermission. Sohyun's eyes flicker back to me and I try to ignore the way she's watching me like she's considering something. I sip at the can of Coke that has been emptied long since.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" She asks so casually, like it's something she asks anyone alone in a night like this.

"What?" I ask, unsure if I've heard it right over the loud music.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's too loud. And hot. Let's do something fun"

I hesistate, unknowingly squeezing the coke can flat. "Like what?"

Sohyun gives me a small smile, laced with certainity and mischeif. "Trust me. You will like it"

There's something in her voice that disarms me. Perhaps it's because this night has already been so surreal, with Yooyeon dragging me here, the drinks, the noise and then Taeil's annoying persistence. And now, Sohyun, who had seemingly ignored me is suddenly offering to whisk me away. It feels like too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

I find myself nodding faster than my brain can catch up. "Okay"

Sohyun stands, sliding a couple bills on the counter before I can protest. She doesn't say anything, just gestures towards the door, and I follow her out of the club.

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The air outside is sharp and cold and for once I'm grateful for my out of place sweater. Sohyun, however, doesn't seem to be fazed. If not, she seems to be enjoying it.

The music fades into the distant as we walk in silence, winding through the quieter streets near the campus. I don't ask where we are going and she doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, we fall into step beside each other, our shoulders brushing ocassionally. My pulse is still racing, though I don't know if it's from the club or from the cold.

Sohyun's pace is unhurried, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and I keep my arms wrapped around myself, pulling my sweater tight. After a while, we reach one of the taller campus buildings, its ivy covered walls bathed in the moonlight. During the day, these buildings always looks heavy, weighted down by unknown legacies. But under the silvery gloom of night, it has all been replaced by a strange sort of calm.

"Come" Sohyun gestures towards the side door as she leads me in. The hallway is dim, lit only by the low, humming lights overhead. She doesn't say a word as she climbs up the stairs, up and up until we reach the top floor. I'm breathless by the time we come to a stop in front of an old, rusted door, with a faded sign that reads Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only.

Sohyun gives me a quick wink as she pushed open the door with a soft creak. "Not like anyone ever come here" She mutters to herself as she steps out into the night.

I follow her onto the roof, and for a moment, I'm stunned. The sky stretches out above us, a blanket of stars scattered across the black canvas of night. The city lights flicker below and I can still hear the distant sound of traffic but for the most part, it's quiet. Like the rooftop itself is another world within this world. The wind tugs at my sweater and I pull it even tighter around me, bracing against the sudden rush of cold.

Sohyun is already sitting at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over the side, her gaze fixed on the stars. She pats the spot next to her and I sit, careful to keep a distance between us.

I tilt my head up, admiring the stars, feeling the enormity of the night settling down on me. "You come here often?"

"Yeah" Sohyun says, her voice soft. "Whenever I need to think. Or when I just need a breather"

I nod, unsure what to say. This isn't what I expected when she said something fun. But in a way, it's better.

We sit in silent for a moment, the only sounds the wind and the distant hum of the city below. This calm, it's peaceful and stirring at the same time. As if there's a deeper meaning to it that I can't quite grasp.

"It's funny" she says. "Back in the country, I used to lie out in the fields and just....watch the stars. Sometimes, I would stare at them for hours. It never fails to soothe me"

I watch the way her eyes trace the sky as if she's searching for something. To be honest, I have expected someone like her to be from a big city. An image of her anywhere else is unimaginable.

"Must've been nice" I murmur. "Being able to see them so clearly"

She nods. "Yeah. It's not the same here. The city kinda takes over. Light pollution and all"

I can hear the nostalgia in her voice and for a moment, I imagine her as a little girl lying under that wide country sky, her face lit by starlight. There's something tender about it, something that makes me want to reach for a fragment of her from a different time.

After a pause, I point up at the sky. "Well, we've got stars here too. Not as bright, but they are still there"

Sohyun tilts her head, following where I'm pointing and I can't help but smile a little. "Okay, bear with my nerdiness for a second"

She chuckles. "Go for it"

I lift my hand, tracing an invisible line through the air. "That's Orion. See the three stars right there, in a row? That's his belt"

Sohyun squints, trying to follow. "Oh, I think I see it"

"Orion was a hunter" my voice dropping slightly as I tell the story. "A really good one too. Some says he fell in love with the goddess Artemis but her brother, Apollo, wasn't too happy about it so he tricked Artemis into killing Orion" I pause. "She realized her mistake too late and heartbroken, she placed him among the stars so she can always see him"

The story hangs in the air when I finish. I glance at Sohyun, her face bathed in a soft glow. She's quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

"That's kind of sad" she says quietly.

"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"

I shift slightly, turning to face her and she does the same. Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world stills. I notice the way her hair flatters with the breeze, the city lights reflected in her eyes and the faint smile tug at her lips.

"You are really something, you know that?" she says, her voice low. "Is this your revenge for my espresso lecture?"

I blink, then smiles, feeling the tension melt away. "Maybe" I say, my voice almost teasing. "But instead of coffee, I use tragic mythological hunters"

Sohyun tilts her head, her smile widening. "Touché. You really know how to open-up someone"

"It's a natural talent" I shrug, although my sarcastic tone gives away the bluff.

"So, this is how you get back at people?" She continues, her voice still teasing. "By making them feel guilty for their ignorance about constellations"

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Please, you are not the first person to endure my mythology rants. Consider yourself lucky it wasn't longer"

"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"

It's like we are back in the café except that now, I'm the one doing most of the talking. But we are still the same two people with their own crazy obsessions.

Then in the lightest of gestures, Sohyun reaches out. Her fingers find the sleeve of my sweater, gently tugging at the cuff, as though fixing it, like she did earlier. She looks at me, eyes warm and amused.

"Revenge or not" she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I think I like your stories"

I swallow, trying not to lose my footing in the closeness of the moment. "Well" I managed to say, my voice uneven. "Next time, I will make sure to pick a happier story"

Sohyun chuckles, leaning back, although her eyes never leave me. "I will hold you to that"

The air around us suddenly become charged with something unspoken. There's a quiet, almost reverent pause in the conversation as if neither of us wants to break whatever delicate thread is holding this moment together.

Sohyun shifts slightly, inching just the slightest to my side. The stars seem to burn brighter, and I find myself leaning into the silence, into the space between us that feels both heavy and light at the same time.

"Do you ever feel like....." Sohyun starts, her voice quiet, like she's speaking into the night as much as to me. "Like everything around you is waiting for something to happen?"

I blink, her words sinking into the stillness. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze flickers back to the stars. "Like....right now, for instance" Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something in her expression, like she's trying to find the right words. "It's like we are on the edge of something"

Her words send a shiver through me, not from the cold but the hidden meaning underneath. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's one I've been pushing aside ever since we met. The strange pull towards her, a quiet fascination that has grown into something else entirely, something that's so wrong and so right at once.

I glance at her and find myself staring at the mole under her left eye, like I'm seeing her for the first time.

"I know what you mean" I finally say, my voice almost too quiet like I'm afraid to break this fragile peace between us. My hands tighten around the railing and I glance down for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like.....something have changed"

She moves an inch more closer, the space between us nearly non-existent now. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat now. My breath catch in my throat as she leans in, enough to cover the remaining space distancing us.

"You are right" she says softly. "Something has changed"

It's so quiet, her voice almost swallowed by the night. MY gaze flickers to her lips for a second - a brief unintentional moment that I quickly pull back from. But I wasn't quick enough.

Sohyun notices. I can see it in her way her expression shifts. And she knows that I know that she knows. Her hand, resting casually on the railing, moves slightly, her fingers brushing against mine in the lightest of touches. It's barely a graze but it's enough to send electricity tingling through my nerves.

The moment stretches, suspended between us, as if we're waiting for something to happen or maybe just waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable now, not uncomfortable, but thick, charged with possibility.

I can't tell who moves first, or if we even move at all. It's like an invisible force has suddenly drawn us together. Her face is so close now, I can see the way my breath mingles with hers in the cool night air.

Then slowly - so slowly it feels like the world is holding its breath - Sohyun lifts her hand. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my sweater, smoothing a wrinkle near my shoulder like she did the last two times. But this time, it's different. There's an unspoken intentionality to it that makes my breath quickens.

Her hand lingers, tracing the fabric for a moment longer than necessary. And then, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her other hand, gently tucking a strand of stray hair way from my face and tucking it behind my ear. The tender touch send a warmth through me.

Suddenly, everything feels sharper, more vivid - the sound of the wind, the soft glow of the city lights, the way her fingers linger near my cheek, as if she's waiting for my permission to go further.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm trying to say, but needing to say something, anything, to break the tension between us.

But she doesn't move. She just watches me, her eyes searching mine, her hand still resting gently on my cheek. "Is this okay?" she asks as if it's a secret we only know.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak without stuttering, unable to think of anything but the way her breath feels against my skin.

And then so so slowly, it feels like time has stopped, she leans in.

Her lips brush against mine in the lightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, more like a promise, like she's testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to tell her to stop.

But I don't. I won't.

Because in that moment, everything have ceased to exist - the city, the stars, the quiet night around us. All that's left is the warmth of her lips, the way they press against mine, gentle but certain.

I kiss her back, just as softly, just as tentatively. And for a moment, it feels like my life has reached its epitome.

Sohyun's hand, resting near my cheek, slides down to cup my jaw, her fingers warm against my skin. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly against mine, and I feel a soft sigh escape me before I could stop it.

My hands, awkward at first, find their way to her waist. I hold her there, not too tight, but enough to feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. She responds by pulling me closer, her fingers slipping into my hair, tugging me gently, deepening the kiss.

Her hands move from my jaw, sliding down my neck, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. My heart is pounding louder than the wind around us, around the city below. The kiss becomes more insistent, more desperate, as if we are trying to say something through it, something words can't describe.

Sohyun's lips parts with mine and for a moment, I think she's finally pulling away. But instead, she moves closer, her breath ghosting against my jawline. A soft shiver runs through me when I feel the first press of her lips against my neck, light and teasing.

Her mouth moves slowly, gently exploring, like she's savoring the taste of my skin. Her lips trail down the side of my neck, and when she presses a firmer kiss jut below my ear, I can't stop the quiet gasp that betrays my lips.

Sohyun hears it. Of course, she does. And I feel her smile against my skin.

"You are so sensitive here, Xinyu" she whipsers before her lips continue their path lower, her hands finding the back of my neck.

When she presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my neck, her tongue barley flicking against my skin, I feel my whole body tense with the intensity of it. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer, yearning for more.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice and her response is to kiss me harder, her lips hot against the sensitive skin of my neck.

The world won't stop spinning, I reduced to nothing but the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine and the quiet, breathless sounds that fill the space between us. It's overwhelming and yet, I can't imagine it stopping anytime soon.

When it finally does, I can still feel the ghost of her lips lingering on my skin. I feel her breath, close to my neck for a second longer before she pulls back. The cool night air rushes in where her lips had been, but the heat she left behind stays, radiating beneath my skin.

I open my eyes, barely realizing I have closed them and glance at her. Sohyun doesn't say a word. She just leans in, her dark locks scattering as she rests her head on my shoulder. Her gaze is fixed on the stars, unblinking as if she's trying to imprint them to memory.

But then, without looking away, she lets out a quiet breath and says, so softly I almost miss it.

"Fucking Apollo"

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#triples #park sohyun #zhou xinyu #kpop fluff #girl group fluff #kpop fanfic

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solxamber · 2 days

Text

Cake and Crime - Jade Leech x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

It all started with a misunderstanding. To be fair, things like this always seemed to start with a misunderstanding, but this one really took the cake. And, of course, it involved Jade Leech, because why wouldn’t it?

You’d been to the Mostro Lounge before—after all, it was the go-to place for your family gatherings. Azul’s idea of a café-slash-business-operation had gotten buzz, and like everyone else, you found yourself sipping a drink and enjoying the food, none the wiser to the shady dealings that went on behind the scenes.

And why would you know? Despite being an heir of a crime family, you had absolutely no idea that your family was basically the mafia. No one had ever sat you down and said, "Hey, just so you know, we're kind of in the business of making problems disappear."

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve been suspicious when your uncle’s "bakery business" never seemed to actually bake anything, or when your aunt talked about "solving problems" with a knowing wink. But you chalked it up to eccentricity. After all, who wouldn’t believe their family was just full of quirky folks?

This week was a disaster for you. Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong. You hadn't slept in three days and had about five papers due in two. So, you really needed a pick-me-up, and where better to go than your usual place?

Of course, when you wandered into the Mostro Lounge for your usual drink, Jade Leech, with his ever-present smile, was behind the counter, asking in his polite way, “What can I get for you today?”

Without thinking much, you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said, “You know what? I could really use something sweet. Do you guys do special orders? Like, something custom?”

Jade, ever the picture of politeness, raised an eyebrow, his smile polite but predatory. “Special order, you say?”

You nodded. Maybe they’d have what you were craving. "I heard you guys can make it happen."

Jade’s smile widened ever so slightly, and you swore his sharp teeth glinted under the dim lighting. “Ah, yes. Special orders.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And what exactly were you looking to order?”

You thought for a second before blurting out, “I’ve been craving a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese. Maybe with boba, too?”

Jade paused, his eyes glinting for just a moment before his usual grin returned. “A Thai tea pastry with cream cheese, you say?”

You nodded, leaning on the counter, not noticing the flicker of interest in his expression.

“And who is the lucky recipient of this… special treat?” he asked.

You shot him a confused look before pointing at yourself. "It's for me."

“Of course,” Jade replied, already scribbling in his little notepad. “Consider it handled. You'll receive your delivery in a few hours.”

Handled. Now, at the time, you hadn’t thought much of that word. You figured Jade was just being friendly, efficient, the perfect worker he always was. So, naturally, after putting in your "order," you headed back to your family’s estate, feeling strangely lighter.

Later that night, as you sat down for dinner with your brothers, you casually brought it up. “Hey, guys, I put in an order at Mostro Lounge today. Jade said he’s going to ‘handle’ everything for me.”

Your two older brothers, hardened men who’d seen more than their fair share of the family’s business, froze mid-bite. Forks clattered against plates as they slowly turned to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes.

“W-What?” the eldest sputtered, his voice rising several octaves. “You… you put in an order?”

“Yeah,” you replied, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. “I asked for a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese and white boba. You know, to get rid of my craving.”

The middle brother choked on his drink, sputtering wildly. “You… WHAT?!”

Your confusion only deepened. “I just needed some stress relief! It’s not that big of a deal. Jade said he’d take care of it.”

They stared at you in disbelief, as if you’d just told them you’d sold your soul to a demon—which, considering who you’d been talking to, wasn’t far from the truth.

The eldest brother put his hands on the table, looking like he was about to have a mental breakdown. “Do you even know what you just did?”

Your other brother, slightly more composed but clearly panicking, started pacing. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Now, it was your turn to look concerned. “Okay, what is going on? Why are you both freaking out?”

The eldest brother ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “You… you used a code, you idiot!”

“A… code?” You blinked. “What kind of code?”

Your middle brother, still pacing, stopped long enough to stare at you incredulously. “*Thai tea cake with cream cheese*?! That’s not a pastry order! That’s a request to kill someone! It’s the ‘break their legs but don’t kill them quickly’ code! And white boba means 'make it as painful as possible!'”

You gaped, your stomach dropping as realization hit. “Wait, WHAT?”

Your eldest brother slowly knelt in front of you and asked, “Did you mention who the order is for?”

When you slowly nodded and pointed at yourself, his face dropped, and he let out a long-suffering sigh.

Your middle brother groaned, shaking his head. “And you told Jade Leech—the most terrifying guy in Mostro—to ‘handle it’?!”

Panic set in as you finally started piecing it together. “Wait, so I didn’t just… order a cake?”

Your eldest brother gave you a deadpan look. “No, you didn’t. You ordered a hit. On yourself.”

You ordered a hit. On yourself.

You stared, wide-eyed, as the words sank in. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

The middle brother waved his arms frantically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

Jumping to your feet, you knocked your chair back and grabbed your coat. “I need to fix this! How do I fix this?!”

The eldest sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “You need to go back and cancel the order before Jade actually follows through!”

Which led to your current mad dash back to the Mostro Lounge, heart pounding as you practically burst through the doors. Breathless, you ran up to the counter where Jade stood, his ever-pleasant smile already in place.

“Ah, welcome back,” Jade said, his tone smooth and unbothered. “I was just about to finalize your… order.”

“No!” You flailed, hands waving wildly. “I need to cancel it! Cancel the whole thing! I didn’t mean it!”

Jade’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned on the counter, his sharp teeth barely peeking through his smile. “Cancel it? Are you sure? You seemed quite certain earlier.”

“I’m very sure!” you said, desperate. “It was a huge misunderstanding!”

Jade hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tapping the counter. “Misunderstanding or not, it was quite an amusing order. I must admit, it’s not every day someone orders a hit on themselves.”

You slumped against the counter, groaning. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Jade chuckled, a low, amused sound. “Not at all. But… I suppose I can let this one slide. After all,” he added with a wicked grin, “it’s far too entertaining to see you squirm like this.”

You sighed in relief, but Jade wasn’t done. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Though, I must ask… are you certain you don’t want anything else? Perhaps a ‘shaken not stirred’? Or maybe a ‘dark roast with extra cream’?”

You squinted, half-curious, half-terrified. “Uh… what do those mean?”

Jade’s grin widened. “The first is full-blown sabotage. The second? Well, let’s just say that’s for when you want someone to ‘vanish.’ Permanently.”

You shuddered. “Yeah, definitely not. Just cancel the ‘pastry,’ and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Jade straightened, still smiling. “As you wish.”

Relief started to wash over you, but the look in Jade’s eyes—sharp, calculating, amused—told you that this situation was far from over.

“So, it’s… canceled, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t haunt you forever.

Jade tilted his head, considering you for a moment. His smile never faltered, but there was a glint of something more behind it—something that made you feel like you were still caught in some kind of trap. “Hmm… I did say I would cancel it, yes. But I must admit, it’s not often I receive such an… intriguing request. Canceling something this entertaining doesn’t come without a price.”

You blinked. “Wait, a price? I thought you said you’d let it slide!”

Jade’s grin widened, the sharp edges of his teeth visible as he stepped out from behind the counter, moving closer. “Oh, I am letting it slide. But everything comes with a little negotiation, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Jade was standing much closer than you anticipated, and the way his mismatched eyes gleamed under the soft lounge lighting had you frozen in place. You weren’t sure if you were more terrified or intrigued at this point.

“And… what kind of negotiation are we talking about?” you asked warily.

Jade chuckled softly, his voice almost a purr. “Oh, nothing too extreme, I assure you. You see, I was thinking…” He paused, letting the moment stretch out as his gaze lingered on you, the tension in the air growing by the second. “…that you could spend a little time with me. Consider it compensation for the… cancelation.”

Your mouth went dry. “Time with you?”

He nodded, his smile still soft, but the teasing look in his eyes told you that this was no ordinary request. “You’ve caught my interest, after all. It’s only fair that I take the opportunity to get to know you better, don’t you think?”

You swallowed hard, trying to process what he was saying. “So… if I spend time with you, we’ll call it even? No hit, no thai tea cake, nothing?”

“Exactly,” Jade replied smoothly. “Just a pleasant exchange. I’d say it’s quite a generous offer, wouldn’t you?”

Generous? Sure. But the way he was looking at you made it feel like you were walking into another trap—though maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one you’d mind falling into.

You hesitated, glancing at the door and then back at Jade. “And what would… spending time with you entail?”

Jade’s grin softened slightly, becoming a bit more genuine. “Oh, nothing too outrageous. A few meals, perhaps. A walk through the botanical gardens. Maybe I’ll even show you some of the more… exclusive areas of the Mostro Lounge.”

Your heart was pounding now, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, excitement, or a mix of both. Spending time with Jade Leech sounded like playing with fire, but… well, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that had sparked inside you.

“Well…” you said slowly, glancing up at him. “I guess that’s better than being taken out by one of your ‘special services.’”

Jade chuckled again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Much better, I’d say. Shall we start now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

Jade stepped back slightly, gesturing toward the lounge’s main seating area. “Why not? I’m free for the evening, and I believe you’ve already cleared your schedule, haven’t you?”

There was no escaping this, was there? But, surprisingly, you didn’t really want to. With a deep breath, you nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. I guess I’m yours for the evening.”

Jade’s grin returned, bright and sharp. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And as he led you to one of the more private booths in the lounge, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this was the most dangerous, yet exciting, order you’d ever made.

Masterlist

#jade leech x reader #jade x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland

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maybe-im-dark · 2 days

Text

Mating season

Logan sat at the edge of their shared bed, fingers tapping against his thigh in a steady, anxious rhythm. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t keep his mind from racing. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the restless energy coiling around him, tightening with every second.

Wade was sprawled across the other side of the room, flipping through a comic book with one hand and munching on a bag of chips with the other. He kept sneaking glances at Logan, eyebrows furrowing a little more each time he saw the older man shift.

“Okay, spill it,” Wade said finally, tossing the comic aside and sitting up. “You’ve been fidgeting like a cat on hot coals for the past hour. What’s going on with you, Logan?”

“None of your damn business,” Logan snapped back, sharper than he intended. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to focus, trying to will the tension away.

Wade tilted his head, studying him with that infuriatingly curious expression. “Come on, you know I’m not gonna leave you alone until you tell me. We both know how persistent I can be.”

Logan growled low in his throat, but he could feel Wade’s gaze on him, insistent and unyielding. “Just… drop it, Wade. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, I do.” Wade leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto Logan’s. “Come on, just spill it. What’s going on with you?”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looked anywhere but at Wade. But then he took a deep breath, and the words spilled out before he could stop them. “It’s… It’s my mating season, alright? My body’s all wired up because of it.”

Wade blinked, taken aback, and then his expression morphed into one of genuine interest. “Wait, you mean like, because of your mutation? It makes you go into heat or something?”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat creep up the back of his neck. “Yeah, something like that. It’s not exactly something I can control.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Wade asked, and Logan shot him a look.

“Because it’s embarrassing, alright?” Logan snapped. “You think I want to admit that I’ve got some animal instinct making me crazy?”

Wade was silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, and then he grinned, leaning in closer. “You know, I could help you with that.”

Logan’s eyes widened, and he stared at Wade, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. “You… you’re serious?”

Wade shrugged, his smile softening into something more sincere. “Yeah. I mean, why not? We’re both here, and if you need help, I’m not gonna let you suffer alone.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, nodding slowly. “Alright. But if you tell anyone about this—”

Wade held up a hand, cutting him off. “Not a word, I promise.”

They stood there for a moment, neither one moving, and then Logan reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. Wade followed suit, his eyes never leaving Logan’s, and when they finally moved to the bed, it was without hesitation.

As they slipped under the covers, the warmth of Wade’s body pressing against his, Logan felt some of the tension ease from his muscles. For the first time in days, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone in this.

The lights dimmed, and as they disappeared under the blankets together, the last thing Logan saw was the soft smile on Wade’s face, the kind that promised understanding without judgment.

And for once, Logan let himself believe that he didn’t have to face his instincts alone.

#hugh jackman #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds #poolverine #deadclaws #i did the thing #i wrote them fucking #oh lord #oh lord i did it #this has been on my mind since forever

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 1 day

Text

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 16

"AUNT KARA!"

Esme throws the front door open and sprints full tilt across the lawn to throw her arms around Kara.

"Hey there," Kara greets.

Pulling her face back to look at Kara with wide eyes, Esme gets straight down to business.

"Tell me *everything*."

----

Kara's exhausted on the couch by the time Esme runs out of questions. She softens the blow of having left Esme so long without updates by letting Esme watch her video recording of Lena's new song. Oh, Esme has already seen the bootlegs of the song spread online, but none of those were taken from backstage.

The hard conversation doesn't come until after dinner, when Esme goes upstairs to finish her homework and leaves Kara alone with Alex and Kelly. They both gaze at her with soft, but expectant eyes.

"I'm fine," Kara tells them.

"No one is saying you're not," Kelly assures her.

Alex is less gentle. "Doesn't mean we can't be worried."

Two days ago, Kara would have taken offense. Today, she recognizes the validity of Alex's concern.

She sighs. "I don't think it was the wrong decision."

"Neither do we," Kelly says. "I don't think choosing happiness ever could be."

"But going half the way across the world at the drop of a hat is bound to be jarring." Alex's voice isn't sharp at all. In fact, she's far more calm than Kara expected her to be.

Kara glances at her suspiciously. "You don't approve."

Alex shrugs. "It doesn't matter what I think. The fact you made the choice tells me it was the right decision in the moment." She lifts her glass of wine to her lips, eyeing Kara over the rim. "But is it sustainable?"

Biting her lip, Kara considers the question. She doesn't regret her choice, and the past few weeks have been a whirlwind of excitement and novelty on all fronts. But what happens when the shine wears off?

"I'm still happy," she says carefully. "And Lena has been amazing. I just... don't know what my role is."

Kelly offers a soft smile. "Growing pains is natural, especially in a situation like this where you've been thrust into an unfamiliar industry and an intense career like Lena's. And learning to navigate the personal stuff is requirement of any relationship. It's just going to be harder with Lena than with anyone else."

"Why?" Kara demands, defensive at the implication she would be daunted. "Because she's famous?"

"Yes, Kara!" Alex leans forward, features lined with concern. She sets her wine down, and scrubs her hands over her face. "I don't-- it's not that she's famous, it's the fact that she can't meet you halfway."

Kelly nods. "Successful partners find the common ground-- a spot where they can meet in the middle. What Alex is trying to say is that Lena can't do that."

"Look at what's happened so far," Alex elaborates, gesturing towards the door. "You uprooted everything and got dropped into her world. She hasn't-- she *can't* do the same for you."

Kara looks into her glass, pensive. Again, Alex isn't wrong. Lena's single foray into her life had been coffee in the park-- in disguise. Meanwhile Kara has been thrust into the deep end of Lena's own life. Her career, her family and friends...

Could Lena ever find the same kind of assimilation into Kara's life? Would she *want* to?

And does Kara care if she doesn't?

"I don't think it would be fair to either of us to end things before even trying."

Before anything else can be said, Esme's door slams open upstairs and teenaged feet pound down the stairs at a breakneck pace, only to screech to a halt at the threshold of the living room.

"Aunt Kara?"

Kara sits up from her slouch, concern leeching over her. "What's wrong?"

"Yeah, you okay sweetie?" Kelly asks.

Esme's features crease in apprehension, her anxious gaze flicking between Kara and her phone.

"Um... there's something you should see."

Kara reaches for Esme's phone when she offers it. She shoots her sister an uncertain glance, then turns her attention to the glowing screen.

She blinks at the list of breaking news results on the search screen, jaw tightening. She clicks on the first. A photo fills the screen-- and Kara's heart plummets.

#supercorp #musician age gap au #sowing the seeds of discontent #sorry not sorry

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absurdthirst · 3 days

Text

The Watcher {Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, vaginal sex, sexual invitation, alcohol, threesome, stripping, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), wlw, vaginal sex, face sitting, cock worship

Comments: The view out the window of your apartment becomes an obsession, watching the lovers in the building across the way touch each other. Until you discover they know you are watching, and invite you to join.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Oberyn smirks as Ellaria straddles him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the small side table, a cheeky grin on her face. He’s been busy reading his book about Ancient Rome, and she is tired of thinking how good he looks with those new glasses on. “You’re interrupting me, my sun.” Oberyn tuts and Ellaria chuckles, grabbing the book and closing it before she sets it down.

“Like you were reading it anyway. Your eyes have been following me around the room.” She hums, sliding her hands along his shirt clad chest.

“You’re eager for me. I love it.” Oberyn coos, leaning in to playfully nip his lover’s jaw, his lips pressing onto her cheek until he finds her lips, his hands squeezing her waist.

The first time you had seen the gorgeous couple, they had been directing movers into the building across from yours. The large picture windows that had cost you a fortune to have the view of the city, had also been perfect to see into the spacious apartment. You had been curious, a little envious of the willowy brunette for her exquisite taste in furniture, clothing and men. Then you had gone about your day. Until you had seen them undress each other.

You hadn’t meant to spy, horrified that you could clearly see their activities and they did not realize it. Until you had seen how intimate they were. Their desire intrigued you and you had watched until they were done.

Now, you are watching again. Breathless when you see the woman straddle him. You don’t know his name, never formally introducing yourself for fear of dying of shame, but you secretly call him Prince. Not after the musician, but because you would think him a King with his sharp jaw and hooked nose, but he is too carefree. He is more like a Prince, a dashing second son of royalty with all the perks and none of the responsibility.

“My sun. You are exquisite.” Oberyn murmurs, his hands gripping Ellaria’s dress and he’s quick to drag it over her head. When that hits the floor, his large hands cup her tits, grateful she’s not wearing a bra, and he leans in to take her nipple into his mouth.

They are gorgeous together, so beautiful it should piss you off and they are completely enamored with each other. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the throbbing in your pussy as you watch, getting turned on by the scene that has started playing out in front of your windows.

His hands caress her back, sliding down to her ass, and he snakes his fingers under the elastic of her panties, squeezing her ass while she starts to grind onto his hardening cock. “You are a minx, my love.” Oberyn murmurs, kissing up Ellaria’s sternum. “All for you, my prince.” Ellaria murmurs, running her hands through his hair.

Even though you aren’t being touched, your skin starts to tingle, breaths coming out in uneven pants. When they do this, which is often, you are helpless to do anything else. Drawn to them like a moth to the flame. You wish you were there, kissing her beautiful body or sinking your fingers into his short, peppered dark hair.

Oberyn chuckles as Ellaria shifts off of his lap, her fingers hooking in his sweatpants and she drags them down. His hard cock bounces as it’s released from his pants. “Mmm she’s watching again.” Ellaria observes without looking over to the window. Oberyn chuckles and strokes her cheek, “then let’s give her something to watch.”

You don’t know they are talking about you. Imagining the words exchanged between them to be the affirmations of love that you don’t have. No partner in a long time and maybe that’s why you’ve fixated on them. You don’t know who you would want more. The seductive woman, with a bewitching smile and fantastic tits; or the debonair man with a wicked smirk and huge cock. Both have their merits and if you could, in your dream, you would have both.

Ellaria leans in, “we gotta put on a good show for her, lover.” She coos, gripping Oberyn’s cock and he groans when she leans in to slide her tongue along the underside of his length. “Mierda.” He hisses, his eyes closing as she wraps her lips around the head after pushing down the foreskin.

You moan softly, alone in your apartment as you watch her take the man’s cock into her mouth. Wondering how he tastes, how he feels on her tongue. Wishing you could share with her. You shouldn’t touch yourself. Sitting down into a chair that hides all but your head as you watch, you hand slides down to cup your cunt through your leggings.

“Do you think she wants your cunt, my sun. Or my cock? Or both of us?” Oberyn muses as Ellaria starts to bob her head, taking his cock a little deeper. “We could share her. If she wants to come over here.” Oberyn smirks, his chest heaving as Ellaria wrecks him with her mouth like she always does. “Shall we give her a bigger show? Have you ride me so she can watch?” Oberyn groans, caressing Ellaria’s hair.

Over the leggings isn’t enough, making you snake your hand down the stretchy material and groan when you touch the swollen bundle of nerves. You’re already slick, so turned on it’s embarrassing and you would cringe to know if anyone discovered your secret. You’ve become a voyeur, unable to masturbate until the strangers in the building across from your apartment are fucking.

Ellaria pulls off of Oberyn’s cock, a giggle escaping her lips as she straddles him again. Reaching down to grip his cock, she notches him at her entrance and starts to slowly sink down onto him. His hands caressing her back, sliding up to squeeze her tits. “Gorgeous, my sun. She will enjoy watching you.”

Your own moan is audaciously loud, echoing through your apartment as the perfectly cast porno plays out in front of you. You wonder how they feel, her squeezing around him and the way he breaks her open. Your two fingers dip into your soaked cunt and then slide back out to rub slow circles around your aching clit, hissing because of how good it feels.

Ellaria slides her hands up his chest, caressing the sun tattoo on his peck he got in honor of his love for her. She had pulled him out of a dark place after his sister was murdered. “His burst of light in the darkness” is what he called her. “My lover, she is touching herself.” Ellaria declares as she looks in the mirror they set up to watch you without you knowing. “Good. Let her watch. Imagine herself sitting pretty on my cock. Or maybe she’s imagining lapping at where we are joined?” He ponders while she starts to rock on top of him.

If you weren’t obsessed with seeing them every second, you would close your eyes, but you have to watch them. She is so graceful as she rolls her hips and starts to ride that impressive cock. You moan again, imagining being there with them, hearing them.

Oberyn chuckles when Ellaria clenches around him at the thought of both situations. “Don’t worry, my sun. We will find out.” He promises, certain that you’d accept an invitation. He squeezes her ass and playfully slaps her cheek when she rocks faster. “That’s it. Want you to soak my cock with your cum. Take what you need.” He grunts to his lover.

You pant, watching them as they move together. Craving the closeness and the intimacy in each kiss and touch. Even the slap of her ass is one made with affection and you cunt clenches around nothing, wondering what his touch would feel like.

Ellaria rocks a little faster, her breathing starting to pick up and Oberyn leans in to take her nipple into his mouth, his large hands splayed over her back, caressing her as she seeks her orgasm from his cock. “That’s it, lover. Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

They are so elegant, even as they engage in the most crass or carnal activities. Making you whine and your own breast tingles like his mouth is on it instead of lavishing attention on her small breasts. Your rubbing turns harder, thighs pressing and pushing apart as you grind down.

Ellaria watches you in the mirror, her fingers gripping Oberyn’s shoulders as she works herself on his cock until she’s collapsing against him, her body shaking as her orgasm rocks through her. “That’s it, my love.” He murmurs, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into her, his jaw clenched.

She came. You know it. It’s so beautiful when she stiffens in his arms and collapses against him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, so close to cumming yourself as you watch him take over. His cock pumping into her cunt and you imagine that it’s you for a moment. It sends you over the edge and you cry out softly.

Oberyn grunts, lost in the lust of you watching him fuck his lover. Usually he’d last a couple of rounds but today, he’s eager to cum. He pants, his cock thrusting deep and hard into his partner. He knows she can take him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, pushing deep when he stills. Cock twitching inside of her as he paints her walls with his seed.

Your eyes greedily watch as he stiffens, knowing he is cumming. Moaning softly, you can only imagine the bliss of how it feels. Relaxing and feeling guilty because of watching them again.

Oberyn groans as he relaxes beneath Ellaria, kissing along her neck until he playfully bites her chin. “You’re too good for me.” He murmurs, kissing her lips softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, my prince. That’s the sex talking.” She teases and he chuckles. “Should we let the girl know we know she’s watching us?” He asks, leaning back to raise his eyebrows. “Let’s.” Ellaria smirks, shifting off of his cock.

Now is the time that you hate yourself. Dragging your fingers out of your leggings, you vow that you won’t watch them again even though you know you will.

Neither Oberyn or Ellaria rush over to the window. They shower and redress, waiting until you’re relaxed on your sofa when Oberyn takes the notepad over to the window. He presses the pad to the glass so you can read it and smirks when he sees your eyes widen at his presence.

‘We know you’re watching’. Your face flames up and you feel like you are going to just die of embarrassment on the spot. They know! They have known…..but then again, if they have known, why didn’t they lower the automatic shades to conceal themselves. You feel bold and grab the notebook you have next to the chair to write a message back. ‘And you are good’ is what it reads as you hold it up to your own window.

Oberyn smirks at your response, glad that you’re not running away. Ellaria called it. You want them. More than anything. He chuckles and grabs his pen, scrawling out a message. ‘Do you want to join us?’ It reads and he awaits your response.

You’re dreaming. It has to be a dream. But if it’s a dream, you are damn sure you are going to have exactly what you want. You rush to pull your pen out of the sleeve in the front and write a message. ‘What apartment #?’

He quickly jots down the apartment number, showing it to you until you nod, and he writes again. ‘Come over in ten minutes.’ He writes and when you nod again, he walks off and finds Ellaria. “She is coming, my lover.” Oberyn murmurs as Ellaria exits the bedroom and he holds her waist, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

You spend seven of the ten minutes showering. Shaving quickly and praying that you didn’t miss patches. Sliding into never used lingerie and asking yourself if you are really doing this, you let yourself out of your apartment without even looking out the window again, knowing you would lose your nerve if you did.

When the buzzer rings for the door, Oberyn walks over and lets you in. He glances over at Ellaria who has a sultry smile on her face and she watches as Oberyn opens the door after you ring the doorbell. “Hello.” Oberyn greets you, realizing how pretty you are up close.

“Hello.” He has a slight accent you cannot place and even more striking in person. His dark eyes are filled with amusement and intrigue, drawing you closer to him. You introduce yourself, not sure if they want to know your name honestly.

You’re nervous. Oberyn and Ellaria have shared partners before but it seems you haven’t if your nervous look is anything to go by. “Come in. I’m Oberyn and this gorgeous creature is my partner, Ellaria.” He gestures to the woman waiting at the end of the hall.

“Yes, she is.” You blurt out and then bite your lip. “You are, too. Gorgeous, I mean. Both of you are.” You laugh at yourself. “God, I can’t believe you caught me. I’m sorry- or I should be sorry. But I’m really not.”

Oberyn chuckles and shuts the door behind you after you walk over to Ellaria. “You’re not.” The woman declares, “but we love that. My lover and I…we have shared partners before. We are comfortable with you watching. Shit, my prince nearly came too fast when I told him you were watching us.” She winks at you, “you are welcome in our bed if you wish. Only if you wish.” She emphasizes, wanting you to be comfortable.

“Prince?” Your brow shoots up, surprised that she uses the same nickname you do. “Are you his Princess?”

“No. That’s reserved for his daughters.” Ellaria chuckles, “he has eight of them.” Your eyes widen and you glance back at Oberyn, and he grins. “I was wild in my younger days.” Ellaria tuts, “he still is.” Oberyn winks at her and walks down the hall to his partner. “We are being rude hosts. What would you like to drink, sweet girl?” He asks, “we have wine, whiskey, coffee, tea, water?”

“I’ll have what you will have.” You decide as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. “What do you like to drink before sex, during sex, after sex?”

Oberyn nods, “I have a beautiful red wine. My family…they are wine makers. I have a bottle of Dornish red. How does that sound?” He asks, walking over to the wine fridge while Ellaria gets the glasses.

You nod and watch them. “When you did know I was watching?” You ask curiously. “I had hoped I was more discreet. Obviously not, since I’m here.” You can’t be upset about that. Not when you will soon see how they both feel.

“We realized you were watching a few weeks ago. We have been trying to figure out if you wanted us or just wanted to watch us. Decided to take the chance today.” Ellaria confesses, handing you a glass of wine after Oberyn pours three. “What have you been thinking about while watching us?” Ellaria asks, reaching up to caress your cheek.

“How you taste.” You answer honestly, nearly moaning at the first touch of her skin shading yours. “How he feels. Being between you.”

Oberyn smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. "You want to taste her?" He asks and you nod, "yes." Your breathless response makes him chuckle. "Do you have any limits? We aren't dominating but I can manhandle sometimes." He murmurs, watching Ellaria step back from you so you can think.

“I don’t like waste play.” You murmur. “I don’t mind manhandling.” You admit. “I want to know what you sound like, I imagine how you would moan and grunt. You fuck gracefully.”

Oberyn smirks, watching Ellaria step closer to you. Your wine glass is still in your hand and she leans in, cupping your cheek. "You will find out." She promises, leaning in to softly press her lips to yours while Oberyn sips his wine.

The first kiss is making you sigh. The hand not holding the glass of wine quickly finds her narrow waist and holds onto it. In disbelief that you are here and getting to touch them, your tongue slides out to touch hers.

Ellaria slides her tongue against yours, her hand sliding around to cup the back of your head. Oberyn is happy to watch for now, enjoying the view of two beautiful women kissing. "How does she taste?" Oberyn asks you, "do you want to taste more?"

You honestly don’t want to break away, but you need to answer him. Pressing your lips to hers a few more times, you finally pull away. “Delicious.” You hum. “I want more. I’m greedy for everything you will give me, my prince.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, setting his glass of wine down, he makes his way over to you and Ellaria. Standing behind you, his hands find your waist and he grinds his hardening cock against your ass while he leans in to press kisses to your shoulder. “Keep kissing her.” Oberyn orders, “then I want to watch her take off her clothes.” He murmurs into your skin.

You whine quietly, nodding as you drag Ellaria’s lips back to yours. Needing the pressure of them against your own. You push back against his cock, loving how you’ve ended up sandwiched between the two gorgeous creatures. The strength in his touch is tempered by the softness of hers, Complimenting and balancing each other out.

Ellaria reaches for the hem of the pretty sundress you are wearing, breaking the kiss so she can reveal your body underneath. "Look, lover. She is a pretty little package." Ellaria coos when the dress hits the floor and your lingerie is exposed. Oberyn smirks, "what a divine set. Shame it is going to join your dress." He hums, his hands sliding along your back and he hooks his fingers in your bra straps, dragging them down your shoulders while leaning in to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Yesssss” you moan, tilting your head forward to let him kiss you however he wants. “It’s- whatever you want. I just want you to touch me.” You beg softly.

Oberyn slides his hands lower to unclasp your bra and Ellaria drags it down your arms, letting it drop to the floor and her eyes darken at the sight of your breasts. "Gorgeous." She exhales and leans in to kiss along your sternum and across the top of your breast until she is taking your nipple into her mouth.

“Oh god.” You pant out, leaning back against Oberyn who lifts your breast up so Ellaria can suckle. Feeling like you are in the middle of the most erotic dream you have ever had. “I- fuck, I knew you both would be amazing.” You praise.

Ellaria bites down your nipple before she switches over, making you whimper, and she smirks against your skin. "She's a good lover." Oberyn compliments Ellaria, "and she loves feasting on a delicious pussy." His hand slides lower to cup you through your lace panties.

His hands are fucking massive. You had assumed so because of how he looked with his hand on his lover, but there was no account for how he cups you. Covering the swollen lips of your cunt completely and it makes you whine loudly, a wordless cry of pleasure. Letting both of them touch and tease you as they want.

Oberyn slides his hand under the elastic of your panties, finding your clit, and he chuckles at your whimper as he starts to rub. “She’s so wet, my sun.” Oberyn coos to Ellaria who kisses down your stomach. Her fingers hook in your panties and she drags them down, exposing Oberyn’s hand rubbing your bundle of nerves.

They have done this before, it’s obvious in the silent coordination. They move together to strip you down and expose your body to their gazes. “Oh fuck.” You whisper, looking down to find her smirking up at you. Kneeling and lifting your leg onto her shoulder before she slides her tongue along Oberyn’s finger and your clit.

Oberyn smirks at your reaction, kissing along your neck as you lean back against him. Ellaria’s tongue slides around your clit, Oberyn’s hand shifting to squeeze your breast so his lover can properly taste you.

Your fingers slide along her jaw and your other hand reaches back to sink into Oberyn’s hair. Using them to anchor yourself so you don’t float away. The irony of being in front of the same windows that you were watching them through isn’t lost on you and it just makes your cunt clench even more. Turning your head, you kiss Oberyn jaw. “Kiss me.” You demand.

He doesn’t deny you. He presses his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. Ellaria continues to lap at your clit and you gasp into Oberyn’s mouth, his tongue dominating as he slides it against yours. His fingers pinch your nipples and he groans when you reach behind you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

His cock is large. You already knew that, but the distance had minimized how thick he is. Making you moan into his mouth when you squeeze him again and he twitches against your palm. Ellaria’s tongue is magic, flicking and licking like you have never been licked before. She’s obviously practiced and you can’t find yourself anything but envious of the other lovers for having her attention before now.

Ellaria closes her eyes as she laps at you, reaching around to unbutton Oberyn’s pants, allowing you to pull his cock out. “Shit.” He hisses at the way you immediately squeeze him. He grunts as you start to pump him and Ellaria hums around your clit.

You need more, greedy for it. Your hips push down, begging for more as you pump Oberyn’s cock. His mouth covers yours again, swallowing your moans as the two of them work to tear you apart at the very seam.

Oberyn groans into your mouth when you pump him a little faster. Ellaria laps at your clit and you whine into Oberyn’s mouth until he pulls away. “That’s it, baby. Cum for her. Cum for us.” He demands, pinching your nipples again.

You’re already teetering on the edge. You have been since Ellaria began her gentle and skilled assault on your clit. Building you up so quickly that you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been edged. How your body screams for release. Permission granted, you fall over the edge as he twists your nipples sharply, screaming out in their arms.

Oberyn chuckles against your jaw as you cum, slumping slightly against him. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Mierda. So pretty when she cums.” He says to Ellaria as she laps at your clit, sliding her tongue between your folds to taste you. “She’s delicious.” She coos, letting your leg down and she stands up, pressing her lips to Oberyn’s so he can taste your tangy cum on her lips. He groans, cupping the back of her neck to taste you from her mouth.

“Let me-“ you pant breathless, watching them kiss and despite the fact that you just came, you want more. Your hands reach out to cup her small breasts and you squeeze them. “Fuck you are so beautiful.”

“Do you want to taste her?” Oberyn asks after pulling his lips away from Ellaria. “Do you wish to lick her cunt while I fuck yours?” He hums, sliding his hands down to squeeze both yours and Ellaria’s ass cheeks in each hand.

“Oh shit.” You whine, cunt clenching desperately at the idea. “I think- that’s- yessssss.” You can’t even articulate how badly you want that. How you want to be completely surrounded by them and lost in their world of pleasure. “I’m clean.” You pant. “I want- cum inside me.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness. “We are clean too.” Oberyn trusts you. He’s had enough experience to know when someone is lying. “You are on birth control?” Oberyn asks, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I-IUD.” You manage to choke out and Oberyn bites down on your pulse. “Ellaria, my love, strip and go lay down on the bed. This one wants to taste your sweet nectar.” Oberyn reaches around to playfully smack the ass of his partner. “And you, lay next to her while I strip. I want you to kneel.”

You watch Ellaria while she untangles herself from the two of you and saunters into the bedroom. “She is gorgeous, is she not?” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “I can tell, you do not know who you are more interested in. Myself or my lover.” He slides his hand down to rub your clit again. “So you will have both of us. We will take every drop of pleasure you will give us.” You whine breathlessly and nod, closing your eyes.

Ellaria lays down on the bed, now naked and you moan at the sight of her golden glowing skin on display like a goddess. One you want to worship. She crooks her finger at you, beckoning you over, and you waste no time shifting to lay beside her after Oberyn releases you from his grip. You whimper as Ellaria kisses you and Oberyn starts to unbutton his half buttoned shirt, exposing the rest of his chest.

They are so gorgeous. Beautiful in masculine and feminine forms, and so incredibly erotic that it makes your skin tingle. Your hands drift over Ellaria’s body, caressing in and squeezing while you watch Oberyn undress from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn pushes his pants down, feet bare as he steps out of them, and he smirks when your eyes widen as you get a good look at his hard cock. “Kneel on the bed. I want to fuck you.” He orders, his voice demanding yet sensual. Ellaria kisses you one last time and playfully smacks your thigh to silently demand you kneel.

Completely naked, he still looks regal and imposing. Making you feel as if you are kneeling before royalty, although you doubt you would be displaying your wet cunt to a king. You shift your thighs apart, arching your back slightly to make sure he can see how you are dripping as you kneel between Ellaria’s gracefully long legs.

Oberyn caresses your ass as he kneels on the bed behind you. "Too fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "going to see how tight that pussy is." He chuckles, gripping his cock as he shuffles closer.

“Been a long time.” You admit quietly, drinking in the sight of Ellaria’s wet folds. “But I want to make sure your lover enjoys herself too.” You lean in and dive into her cunt with enthusiasm.

Ellaria moans as you slide your tongue through her folds. Oberyn watches her face and his cock twitches in his grip as he slides the head through your wet folds. You’re soaking wet. He pushes into you, slowly, and your moan vibrates against Ellaria’s clit.

He stretches you out, making you gasp in pleasure as you lurch forward. His hips flat against your ass when he’s buried deep. Your tongue flicks over Ellaria’s clit, curling up and then pressing against the bundle of nerves while you push back against the feeling of being impaled.

Oberyn groans as you clench around him. “She’s so tight, my love.” Oberyn coos to his partner. “Tighter than we thought she would be.” He confesses as he starts to move inside of you. Ellaria watches as her lover takes you from behind, her eyes flicking down to watch you as you lap at her clit.

You moan, clenching around him at the idea they had talked about you, wondering about you. Perhaps while Ellaria was sitting on his cock. They had been watching you as well. You suck on her clit and squeeze her thighs. Loving how she rolls her hips down and watches as Oberyn starts to rock into you.

Ellaria moans when you push your tongue inside of her and Oberyn smirks at the look on her face. “She’s done this before. She’s a good girl, isn’t she, my sun? Sucking on your perfect little clit like the voyeuristic whore she is.” He hums playfully, gripping your hips as he starts to rock a little faster.

You whimper and take every thrust of his hips, pushing you into Ellaria. You love it, holding onto her hip and devouring her as you clench around her lover's cock. You are a voyeuristic whore, their whore. You will do anything for them and they’ve barely touched you. Already marking you as theirs while you share their bed.

“She’s enjoying this, lover.” Ellaria purrs as you lap at her clit, making her chest heave with pleasure. “She is. She’s clenching around me.” Oberyn coos, caressing your hips. “She’s greedy. I love it.” He chuckles and thrusts a little harder, pushing you more into his partner’s cunt and you moan into her folds.

She tastes wonderful, tangy and musky. Making you addicted to the slick arousal that seeps from her like honey, thick and luscious on your tongue. His cock shreds up inside you, searching with small adjustments, for that perfect spot until you are crying out when he finds it.

“That’s it.” Oberyn grins victoriously. “Take what I give you, baby.” He grunts, rocking against that spot over and over. “El, I want you to cum for us.” He demands, looking over at his lover. “Cum on her pretty tongue.”

Your nipples harden at the intensity in his tone, eyes watching her and you can see that she's responding to his commands. Her body priming itself to cum just like he wants her to and you double down on the flicks of your tongue, wanting to make her fall apart.

It takes a few more seconds before Ellaria falls over the edge. Her moan echoing in the bedroom and she tilts her head back as she cums. Oberyn smirks as he watches her, loving seeing her pleasure. “You did a good job, baby.” Oberyn compliments you as you work her through it. “She loves it. Look at her face.” He says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring your head up to watch her.

He’s pulsing inside if you, not cumming, just throbbing as he holds you so you can watch Ellaria. Obviously enjoying the sight of his lover’s pleasure himself. Holding still inside you until she is slumped down onto the bed in a pool of limbs and moans.

Oberyn wants you to cum too. He pulls out of you and flips you over, Ellaria’s arms opening to pull you into her lap as Oberyn lifts your legs up onto his forearms. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He smirks, pumping his cock until he’s pushing back inside of you. Ellaria’s hands find your tits, squeezing them and her lips press against your neck while Oberyn watches.

They are completely overwhelming you in the best possible ways. Oberyn’s cock is thick and heavy inside you, starting to move again. “Oh fuck.” You might like looking up at him more than the way his cock feels when he has you from behind. “So good.”

“He’s like a prince. So regal.” Ellaria hums as she kisses your ear while her eyes focus on Oberyn. His jaw is clenched and he squeezes your thighs as he pushes into you, adjusting the angle on each thrust until you cry out. “There it is, lover.” Ellaria coos, her hand snaking down to rub your clit.

“He is.” You pant, nodding agreement as your nipples harden even more. His cock rocking into you and her delicate fingers on your clit is proving to be the most delicious form of torture. “I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, feeling your body starting to tighten in anticipation.

“Do it. Cum for us.” Ellaria hums, pinching your clit and that sends you over the edge. You clamp down on Oberyn’s cock and he hisses in delight, loving the way you moan his name followed by Ellaria’s. “Mierda. She’s so tight.” Oberyn grunts as your walls flutter around him while you soak him with your orgasm.

The praise makes you keen, the words sounds of pleasure ripping out of your throat as you nearly black out. Feeling him start to slow down his thrusts, you open your eyes in confusion.

He pulls out of you when you relax against Ellaria. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He explains, his cock shiny with your cream and he smirks, shifting to lay down beside you and Ellaria who wastes no time pressing her lips to his. You whimper and Ellaria chuckles as she pulls back from Oberyn, grabbing your neck to push you towards him and his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I want you to ride my face while Ellaria rides my cock.” He demands, his cock still hard against his belly.

You moan into his mouth, nodding eagerly. They have completely taken over your senses and you will do anything they want. Sliding back so you can let Oberyn lay back. Leaning over to kiss Ellaria before she straddles his hips.

Oberyn groans as Ellaria sinks down on his cock and he desperately wants you to sit on his face. You don’t deny him as you shift to straddle his chest, shuffling back so you can hover over his face and he quickly pulls you down so your weight is on his mouth.

Oberyn is just as eager of a lover as Ellaria is. His fingers dig into your hips and his tongue is immediately pushing into your soaked walls. Making you cry out in his eagerness to devour you. Blowing past all your imagined scenarios and ideas of what would happen if you were ever with the two of them.

Ellaria reaches out to squeeze your tits as she bounces on Oberyn’s cock like she’s done many times. Oberyn twitches inside of her as she clenches around him and his tongue flicks over your clit, wanting you to grind down on him. His hands squeeze your hips to encourage you to move.

You lean forward, cupping her tits as well, tangling your tongue with hers in a frantic kiss. Your hips start to roll as you ride his tongue, the whiskers of his neat thin beard and mustache rubbing against you wonderfully.

He laps at your clit, loving the way you grind down onto him and Ellaria slides her tongue with yours, her moans smothered by your lips as she rides her partner in a well practiced dance. “Fuck.” Ellaria pants as she pulls back from your lips, her back arching as she grips your shoulders to work herself harder on Oberyn’s cock.

You whine, watching up close and in person the scene that had you in a chokehold since they have moved in. Watching as she rides him and now, you feel his tongue flicking against your clit as he pleasures you at the same time as his lover. It’s everything decadent and wicked, making you wish they had signaled you earlier.

Oberyn groans when he feels how close Ellaria is, his cock twitching inside of her, and he hisses when she starts to cum, clamping down on his cock. His fingers dig into your flesh as he works his jaw wider, tongue lapping at more of you. He’s desperate for you to cum and Ellaria slumps forward against you as she shakes on his cock.

You almost pull away from his tongue, nearly overstimulated by the way his mouth works over your cunt. The pure bliss on Ellaria’s face nearly makes you cum again, and it only takes a few more flicks of Oberyn’s tongue before you are crying out a garbled combination of their names.

Oberyn works you through it, Ellaria caressing your back and kissing along your neck as she shudders through the aftermath of her pleasure. Oberyn groans when Ellaria pulls off of his cock and kneels beside his body, “want us to suck your cock?” She hums, “my lover adores his cock being sucked.” She coos and trails her finger along the slick and creamy velvet of Oberyn’s length. He groans when you lift off of his face and kneel on the other side of his body.

“He deserves to have his cock sucked.” You agree, reaching out to swipe your finger through the juices that are gathered on the tip. Thrilled that all three of you are combined so beautifully. “He has made us cum so thoroughly on it, it deserves to be worshiped.”

Ellaria nods, gripping the base of Oberyn’s cock and he shifts to his elbows to watch two beautiful women work to make him cum. “Suck on the tip. He loves that.” She orders and you do as she says, leaning in to take the tip into your mouth. He groans and Ellaria leans in, her tongue sliding down the length until she is taking his balls into her mouth and rolling them with her tongue. “Fuckkkk.” Oberyn groans, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them.

It’s hedonistic, the way both of you are showering him in pleasure. Like you are whores in a brothel focused on his pleasure alone and it makes you want to make this the best experience he has ever had. Moaning around the tip as you suck greedily.

Oberyn reaches down to caress your cheek before he strokes Ellaria’s head. “Fuck. You two - so cock hungry. My little cock drunk whores.” He chuckles and his stomach clenches as you suck him a little deeper.

Your cunt bottoms out around nothing, aching despite the fact that you’ve already cum three times. Feeling like you might never get enough of these two. Your hand pumps what you aren’t sucking on until Ellaria’s clever mouth starts to work back up from his balls.

Oberyn hisses when Ellaria mouths the side of his cock while you work the tip. His dark eyes taking in the sight of both beautiful women and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “That’s it. Shit.” He groans when Ellaria slides her tongue higher to tangle with yours as she laps at the slit.

You’ve never kissed someone with a cock in your mouth but now you love it. Enjoying the way he hisses and his hips buck up to thrust into the space that your tongues are twirling around him. Moaning at the lewdness of the moment and wishing you have a video of this incredible night.

"Fuck. You're going to make me cum." Oberyn warns as you and Ellaria push him further to the edge. Your tongue tangles around the head and your hand rolls his balls while Ellaria pumps the rest of his length. "Mierda. I'm going to - fuckkkkk." He groans as he starts to cum, his hot seed hitting yours and Ellaria's lips.

You don’t try to take his cock down your throat, enjoying the way he spurts his seed over both of your faces and chins. Leaning forward when he’s finally done to kick it from Ellaria’s face with a pleased hum while a breathless Oberyn watches.

Oberyn slumps against the bed for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in his orgasm, loving the way you and Ellaria lick his cum off each other’s faces. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching out to caress your lips before he caresses Ellaria’s.

You like his praises, smiling at them both while your body just hums at the satisfying thrill of your orgasms. “That was incredible.” You whisper, knowing that you should probably dress and go back to your apartment.

“It was. We would love to have you here again…if you wish.” Ellaria says, stroking your back. You both shift to lay on either side of Oberyn as he holds his arms out for you both to curl into. “My lover wants more of you.” Oberyn chuckles, “so do I.” He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “join us again.” He murmurs his request.

It will be the easiest request you’ve ever agreed to. Reaching across him to caress Ellaria’s side as you kiss Oberyn’s chest. “As often as you wish.” You promise. No longer just a voyeur, you will be the one to be envied when someone else watches through the windows.

#pedro pascal #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x f!reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x you x ellaria sand #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x you #ellaria sand x f!reader #modern oberyn martell

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bubblergoespop · 3 days

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My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

#blakey poo #bubbler’s top quotes #redacted blake #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse

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lullabyes22-blog · 1 day

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Snippet - Daddy's Little Liar - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi and Silco take the news in very different ways...

tw: controlling behavior, abuse, codependency, unhealthy parent/child dynamics

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Silco stared, a queer chill rising from the soles of his feet.

"What is this, Jinx?"

"I told you. A memento mori. Never forget."

"That's not what memento mori means."

"Huh? Sure it does." She looked up then. He saw the dancing coins in her eyes: a maundering fever-heat one moment, a canny calculation the next. "It means 'Never forget the past,' and that's what I'm doing. I'm fixing each memory in time and place. The feelings. The sounds. The smells. So that I never forget."

"Death."

"Huh?"

"Memento mori means 'Never forget that death will come.'"

"I know it will."

"What?"

But Jinx had already slipped out of her seat. Magnus stayed sprawled, softly-snoring. Jinx spared the dog a fond glance, then sidled past Silco. She was moving faster than her languid movements should've allowed. He couldn't help but notice that, though her clothes were rumpled as if a nest of weasels had denned in them, the rest of her body was spotlessly clean. A whiff of jasmine seeped from her hair and skin: the leftover effervescence of bath salts.

She'd cleaned herself up, after whatever it was she'd done last night.

Except the residue of the last hours clung to her, same way the past clung to her dioramas. That feral, heat-seeking musk he'd begun to associate with magic.

Now it was a full-blown miasma.

And none of it accounted for the cut lip and glowing cheeks.

Silco felt his jaw grit. He'd come looking for Jinx to ask her questions. He'd been prepared to give her an earful. He'd been ready to lay down the law. He'd not been prepared for this strange haze of self-enforced secrecy, or that fucking macabre art-project, or the unerring sense that his daughter had been touched by more than one kind of magic.

The knowledge evoked an answering alertness in his own body: a bristling territoriality. His animal mind was registering a threat. One that had to be scrubbed from his turf.

Threat—who?

Jinx?

Or whoever she'd been with?

"Where did you go last night?" he demanded, deliberately pitching his voice to the velvet tenor that always put her at ease. "Why didn't you answer the network's signal after the temblor?"

"I was busy."

"With what?"

"Things."

"Y'know, the usual." Big eyes, little shrug. "Creepin' and peepin'. Hidin' and seekin'."

"The blackguards saw you slipping into one of the nightclubs near the Promenade."

"Yeaaaaah. The Black Cat. Total dive. Zero-by-ten."

"The blackguards saw you," he goes on, still letting the velvet glide through his voice, "but I requested to see the logbook. The signature doesn't match yours."

"That's 'cause I was tweaked out on six cups of coffee. Jitterville central. Could barely spell my name, let alone sign it."

"Jinx, what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing."

The flicker of resentful teengirl impatience—all jutting lip and impatient eyeroll—should've been mollifying. Except he knew Jinx too well, and he'd taught her how to wear disingenuity like a second skin. The juvenile defiance was a front. Beneath that was a brick wall of stubbornness that hid at least three different doors.

Choose one, and you chose wrong.

"You've been missing a great deal of formal events, lately," he said, opting for a different tack. "I can excuse a few nights, given the nature of your work. But a recurring string of absences will invite scrutiny. And a lack of discretion will attract attention. Remember what I always tell you, Jinx: spectacle means little. Consistency, everything."

"You also tell me: Master the art of unpredictability."

"On the Day of Ash, unpredictability is the last factor that invites faith. You are a symbol of the city's resurrection. And symbols must be seen."

"Uh-huh."

"If your social batteries are low, I will schedule downtime. But during meetings with the underbosses, we need to be seen. Together, as a team."

"Uh-huh."

"Jinx, you need to take this seriously. The city is depending on you. If you've hit a lag in your work: say so. I'll make adjustments—"

Jinx laughed; it was bristlingly bitter.

"What makes you think I've hit a lag?"

"Your attitude, for one. You're never one to shy from the limelight. Not unless you're avoiding something."

"And you think it's because I've screwed up?"

"Have you?"

She moved around him—wide, no chance of him reaching out to waylay her. Her posturing held the swivel-hipped insolence of a dancer who'd just blown-off a private showing with a high-roller. One who could not be trusted with his hands, not without him keeping them in plain sight.

Behind the ice-queen hauteur, though, he sensed the emotional seams giving way. Not a meltdown, but a struggle to integrate the old and frail with the new and strong.

She was badly shaken by whatever had happened last night. But she was also pleased with herself for having owned the experience.

And the experience had left indelible marks.

"You can talk to me, Jinx," he said, the velvet melting into her favorite tenor: hot fudge with a side of sincerity. "I am on your side. I always will be."

The sweetness cut no ice. Jinx's flippancy crystallized into something altogether steelier.

"What's with you and sides?" she snapped. "D'you think slicin' and dicin' everything into 'yours' and 'theirs' is gonna give you ownership of the whole pie?"

"What's brought this on?"

"Nothing. I just wonder why you only ever drop in to see me when it's about something wrong with me. You sense a weakness and there you are—like a shark on a bloody leg." She knelt at a louvred drawer and began rummaging through her canned paints. "Like you think I'm not enough as I am."

"That's not true, Jinx. You're my daughter—"

"Your daughter. Your protégé. Your partner-in-crime. Blah blah blah." She stood up, clutching a tin of blue paint to her chest. "Bottom line: you trust me to watch your back. But you don't trust me to handle my business. You want me to be a certain way, and when I'm not that way, you get all up in my shit about it."

"Language, girl."

"Don't tell me how to talk. You're not the boss of me."

"I'm the closest thing to it."

"Fuck you."

For a moment her words—pitch, delivery, venom—were not Jinx's, but Vi's. Last night's near-miss was a visceral gut-punch: the rage, burrowed deep, reignited with a vengeance.

His arm shot out to seize her wrist; Jinx was wrenched off-balance. The paint tin clattered to the floor. In the dopplering silence that followed, their eyes locked. The paternal softness had bled from Silco's expression; the veneer of defiance had receded from Jinx's. Beneath, the real faces stared out: a jaundiced, hollow-eyed man with a shark's bloodthirsty teeth, and a pale, fever-bright girl with the death-stare of a gorgon.

It was a baring down to the last pitch-black cell. A staring contest of two monstrous souls.

Its challenge: to the death.

"Let go," Jinx said, quiet.

"I will once you tell me the truth."

"Truth? Fine. Here's a truth. I was out working. Same as you."

Silco's eyes cut up and down Jinx's face. The whites of her eyes shot through with a latticework of insomniac's red. The cut on her upper-lip, where clumsy teeth, not hard knuckles, had drawn blood. The rosy rash on her cheeks that wasn't allergy but the heat-flush of a body in the throes of a throttling hormonal storm.

Someone—a stranger—had put their hands on his child. Touched her, not out of violence, but desire.

And Jinx, inexplicably, had desired them back.

"Who was it?" Silco said, equally quiet.

"Who was who?"

"Don't play games, Jinx. You were with someone. I want to know who."

"What if I don't tell you?"

"Then I will find out. And when I do, they'll regret ever laying eyes on you."

There was a split-second's faltering: her face angling up to his, her eyes searching the black pits of his own. Whatever she saw there, it was enough. A little-girl fear crept into her features. His grip tightened a fraction, and he felt the skittering of her pulse.

Whoever she'd been with, they'd mattered to her. And in mattering, they'd made her vulnerable. Made her question.

Made her weak.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane ekko #ekko #arcane vi #arcane violet #ekkojinx #jinx x ekko #timebomb

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ivoryrebellionmess · 3 days

Text

Spooky remorses

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: Heyyy :) this is my first time writing anything so I hope it's not too bad. english is not my first language so please tell me if there are any mistakes. i just saw an edit and this kind of popped into my head. there´s no physical description of the reader, no y/n. the ter trashy pop is used, but in a good way, i love trashy pop

this is not the whole thing, just a little taste to take the edge off of uploading the whole fic. hope you like it <3

pd: i bet you can tell i´ve never smoked lol

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 1994

You heard her before you saw her, your head buried in paperwork,

¨No one told me in college that nurses had to do this much paperwork¨ Hazel laughed.

She was new in Charming, looking for a quieter life than the one she had in San Francisco. You had almost laughed at the irony when she first told you, the Sons present in your mind. One Son specifically. How you managed to avoid him considering the amount of hospital visits they made was almost a miracle.

You had to change your mechanic, that's true, a minor inconvenience.

Hazel knew about the guy you had just broken up with when she started working with you, but you had, of course, not told her he was none other than the VP of the motorcycle club. There were parts of that story that raised difficult questions. So the official version was that you had a relationship and that it ended because he was kind of a mama's boy, which was not a lie. The truth? Gemma didn't like you and she did everything she could to get rid of you. She succeeded of course.

As you looked up from the files, your greeting was her mischievous smile. ¨Oh no, what is it?¨.

Hazel leaned in on the table, looking over her shoulder ¨Sooo, you wanted to go dancing on Halloween, but all the good parties are sold out right?¨

You hummed as you got closer to her, ¨Sure, been sold out weeks¨

¨What if I told you I got us invited to a private party?¨ She looked so proud of herself, smiling like she just won the lottery.

The head nurse approached you, shaking her head but not mad, ¨Last time I checked your, job description said nothing about gossiping, ladies¨

With that, Hazel got back to her rounds, and you got back to your paperwork; the party still on the back of your mind.

When it was finally time to clock out, Hazel and you decided you´d get ready at her place that Friday before going to the party; and you got in your car and drove to a costume shop. You'd thought of just buying fake blood and splashing it on some scrubs you didn't use anymore, but as you entered a beautiful mannequin dressed as a vampire gave you another idea. You had a dress that you hadn't had a chance to wear yet, well, this was it.

The cashier joked as you paid for a gothic looking choker and fake fangs ¨Last minute buy huh?¨; you nodded, laughing along with her.

On Friday morning, you packed a bag with the outfit and makeup you would need to get ready and left for the hospital. The hours seemed to tick by specially slow: making your rounds, filling up paperwork, changing dressings, administering medication, over and over. During lunchtime one of your friends wanted to know which party you were going to, and that's when you realized you didn't know.

¨I´ve been so excited with the idea of going I did not even wonder…and Hazel´s been so busy, we have barely talked¨

At last you got to Hazel's place, opened up a couple of beers and started getting ready, trashy pop blasting from the radio. While the glue in the fake fangs dried off, a question escaped your lips ¨So, what's the story with this party?¨.

The image of your fingers stuck in your mouth, holding the fangs in place was guilty for a fit of laughter being all you got for an answer. Hazel´s cackles were very contagious, even more so after a couple of beers.

She sat down to do her makeup, ready to answer your question ¨My car broke down right? Anette from the pediatric wing said she knew the best mechanics in town¨ Your face went white at that, fearing the worst ¨so I went there, and the hottest guy comes up to me and starts asking about the car¨ she turned to face you ¨when I say hot I don't think you understand, I mean very hot¨ a sick feeling to your stomach made you think that was probably Jax, charming a beautiful girl into a party, and then his bed, Hazel was too deep in the story to notice your change in demeanor ¨he was funny as hell and he had these tats in his head, you should have seen him¨.

You finally felt like you could breathe a little better, so you interrupted ¨So you got us invited to SAMCRO´s party?¨ That was when Hazel noticed you were sitting on her bed, your face serious, and she assumed she knew why ¨Listen honey, I know they're supposed to be dangerous or whatever, but it's just a party, nothing bad will happen¨.

As she sat down next to you, you grabbed her hand ¨Remember my ex?¨ she blinked at that, not the answer she was expecting ¨Yeah, the one you never talk about¨. You breathed in deeply ¨I never talk about him because he's the VP of the Sons, and there are many things I can't tell you¨.

A heavy silence fell between you two, and you could see disappointment in her eyes.

You knew you shouldn't, you had been avoiding him for a reason, but you couldn't help yourself, Hazel had been looking forward to the party, and so had you, if you were being honest.

You got up and grabbed the dark red lipstick ¨So, now that we both have all the information, let's finish here¨, before Hazel even finished opening her mouth you continued ¨We're already half dressed, Juice will be waiting for you. I have to see Jax again eventually, I can't avoid him forever¨.

With that, you sat down and finished doing your makeup ¨Come on Hazel, we don't have the whole night¨. She gave you a grateful smile.

A little after, you admired the both of you in the mirror: Hazel had a beautiful purple witch costume, and you were wearing a garnet minidress, fishnets, black platform heels and the choker and fangs. ¨We look hot, he's gonna die when he sees you¨ Hazel kissed your cheek lovingly, and with that you left.

Memories flooded your brain as Hazel parked in front of the clubhouse and were quickly interrupted by her voice ¨I really am sorry-¨, a reassuring smile and a wink shut her up, then you got out of the car.

A dull throb came from the closed door, the beat of the music. It got louder as some girls you didn't know opened the door and got out, laughing and clearly drunk.

¨Looks like a fun party Hazel, let's go get your guy¨, with that you started walking, putting as much fake confidence as you could into every step. What you were not expecting was her disappearing as soon as the door closed behind you.

By yourself, as you had so many nights before, you approached the bar, spotting Chibs. He smiled at you as a wave of recognition flashed in his face

¨Look what the cat dragged in¨, leaning on the countertop. Chibs eyed you up and down and you twirled, chuckling ¨What can I get ya? It's on the house¨.

Jax´s breath caught in his throat as he saw you walking into the party, what the hell were you doing there. He couldn't believe how good you looked, the dress clinging to your body in all the right places, the fishnets, the dark makeup...

It might be the sexier you had ever looked. He had to play it cool so he leaned against the wall, beer in hand, yet his eyes followed your every movement.

You were talking to Chibs, laughing and joking, and he felt a pang in his chest. That should be him.

Now that your vodka tonic was half empty, being in the clubhouse was way less stressful, still you had to make an effort not to look at him. You could feel his gaze on you, but you had not dared do the same. A blonde head of head on the periphery was more than enough.

So you leaned in the bar next to Chibs. ¨Can you believe my friend ditched me the second she stepped in here?¨, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of it.

He laughed with you, looking around ¨Can´t blame her, not with hot bikers everywhere¨.

¨Oh my god i cant believe youre on her side¨, you jokingly hit his arm.

Chibs kept on joking about how hot the Sons were while you both looked around the room, your eyes suddenly falling on Jax.

He looked fucking great .

You had to make a bit of an effort to look away, taking a sip of your drink. This did not go unnoticed to Chibs, who smirked, knowing his brother too well.

Jax had been peeking at you too, even if he pretended to focus on the conversation he was having.

You noticed Chibs leaning closer, his voice dropping ¨You know he hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked in, don't ya?¨.

You bit the inside of your cheek ¨Didn't even notice¨.

¨So you didn't notice him almost spilling his beer when he first saw you?¨ He chuckled ¨Or the way he keeps stealing glances every time he thinks no one's gonna notice?¨.

You could tell Chibs was enjoying your effect on Jax a little more than a brother should, but you were more worried about the way his presence was affecting you.

¨I haven't got a clue what you´re talking about¨, you just hoped your innocent facade was good enough.

Chibs shook his head, so it wasn't. ¨You´re a terrible liar, but I´ll play along. Keep acting like he's not here and let's see how long he can keep his cool¨. A wink punctuated the ending of his challenge.

Not loving the route the conversation was heading in, you finished your drink with one BIG gulp and left.

¨Thanks for the drink, it was great¨. Before you could quite leave he chuckled, amused by your stubbornness.

¨Uh huh, whatever. Don't pretend to be surprised when he starts pestering you, you know he will. That boy can't resist a challenge¨

That did strike a nerve, and your mouth was working before you could register what you were saying, ¨I´m not a challenge, I´m his ex¨

Chibs chuckled and leaned in closer ¨You ignoring him is a challenge, being his ex only adds to it¨ He took a swing of his beer before continuing, ¨Trust me, you're getting under his skin more than you realize¨

For whatever reason, that angered you. You were not a challenge, and ignoring him was the sane choice. The alcohol in your system just fueled that anger, so still in hushed voices you retorted, ¨Am I getting under his skin? Or is he just horny and knows I´m a good fuck?¨

He just laughed, this was the you he remembered, running your mouth in a tiny dress, having a good time but not letting anyone put you down. Well, not anyone, the fight against Gemma was the one he'd seen you lose.

¨Oh believe me it's both, he sees you and all he can think about is getting you into bed. But there's more to it, ain't there?¨ This time when he smirked he was looking at Jax, who was talking to Tig, his eyes trained on you.

You started walking to the dancefloor, and you offered a shrug as an answer to his question. The words that followed, not even you believed, ¨I don´t know, and I don´t care¨

Chibs watched you leave, talking to himself, ¨Yeah, you keep telling yourself that¨. He then looked at Jax, who was following your every movement from his spot leaning on the wall. Chibs just shook his head and went over, ready to stir the pot.

#jax teller #soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #jax teller fanfic #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you

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