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angelfrombeneth · 1 year ago

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MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more.. please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #harrypotter fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #angelfrombenethfics

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thekissofaphrodite · 1 year ago

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I Grew this for you, Ives.

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Demeter! Reader

Summary: Your secret meetup with your boyfriend, Luke, might have been interrupted by Percy Jackson.

Warnings: MakeUp...MAKEOUT- I MEAN. Language (Tell me if i missed one!)

Author's note: It might be kinda weird that the title doesn't match the summary but trust me, it's worth reading. + If you saw a fic from another blog the same as this i requested it and decided i wanna make the fic myself.

___

New kid, New responsibility. You were known as being motherly towards every kid that stepped in Camp Half Blood. And Maybe, Just maybe, Percy Jackson considered you as his Camp Mom, It wasn't new for older campers seeing a new 12 year old boy follow you around and look up at you with big puppy eyes along with Grover's confused look, but oh well.

Ever since your Godly Mother, Demeter has claimed you, Luke has called you Ives since then. It all happened when three years ago, you ended up in Camp Half blood after your mortal father has been killed by a chimera, much to his sacrifice, You might have offered some small offerings to your Brother In Law, Hades, to watch him in the underworld. Your first week into camp half-blood, Chiron had announced that Capture the Flag will be the first game for the day, you were teamed up with the reds (Much to your disappointment) you were near the cabin fire when two boys from the blue team had cornered you (One of them was luke) you raised you hands to cover yourself but then, Two ivy vines sprouted out the soil and blocked them, horror washed over you when one of the vines that you 'accidentally' summoned strangled one of the boys, Luke was able to escape and still..Blue team one.

While they were celebrating, The red team started ranting angrily about how you made them lose, You sat in a corner, your head leaned against an oak tree as you sobbed, then, a bright greenish-yellow light appeared with gold sickle with a few sheaths of wheat above your head, No one was there, not until a group of campers saw you, they ran and moments later, almost dozens of campers were in front of you, including chiron.

"All Hail Y/n Y/L/N, Daughter of Demeter"

Bunch of flowers started sprouting near you, The forest and plants looked much more healthier in your eyes as every one knelt down, Including Luke, Who gave you a mischievous wink.

"....And this is the mess hall, You're always designated to sit with your cabin mates but that depends, most unclaimed kids just sit with their friends" You said, Glancing at Percy, The young boy just nodded shyly and coughed,trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

"Looks like someone has a crush on you" Luke appeared behind you with a grin, Percy's eyes immediately went wide, making you chuckle.

"Crushes don't hurt, it's admiration afterall" You whispered before giving percy a light kiss on his cheeks, leaving luke shocked.

One of you halfsiblings, Althea, called you over. Apparently, another one of your half sibling's EX boyfriend from the Dionysus cabin used a lard grapevine to ruin the bathroom door inside the cabin while you sibling is showering out of rage and jealousy.

Now, As head of your cabin, It's either you spent one whole hour being lectured by Mr. D out of his favoritism or...Plead with one of the Hephaestus kids to fix it for you.

What a day.

Giving Luke and Percy one last smile, You left.

"C'mon Felix! This is the only time that i've asked for a favour out of all the favours i've done for you, You'd do it for me" You pleaded as you followed him back and forth inside his cabin's workshop.

"Look, Y/n, I love you as my friend, but i can't do it, not right now"

"What if i give you a 25$ gift card from burger king and......" You scouried your pocket hoping to find something, Your eyes lit up as you felt a bill in your palms "50 dollars...and...." You then went to pat your bra and pulled out a coin. "A Peso"

You then placed it in his soily hands, Felix's face remained calm, he then took the money.

"It's warm..." He said kinda horrified...You pulled the peso out of your bra for the gods sake!

"Take it or leave it."

He then rolled his eyes and grabbed his toolbox.

"Lead the way"

You squealed and hugged him before pulling him to your cabin.

As you watched him repair the door in silence, Felix broke the silencce by purposely dropping a hammer to the ground, the loud clattering sound made you flinch a little, he smirked "Thinking about Luke?"

You snorted, as if tho you weren't actually thinking about him, "No, i'm thinking about Percy"

"The new kid who broke Clarisse's spear? he's badass"

"mhm, Son of Poseidon"

"Speaking of, How's Luke?"

There was a moment of silence before you replied.

"Fine"

"Just 'fine' ? No ungodly things happening?"

"No" You could've bursted out laughing.

"I don't believe you, C'mon tell me some elaborate details"

You raised your brow, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes.

"Actually, if you finished that, i'll tell you"

The Hephaestus boy huffed and went back to work

After an hour, Felix finished repairing the door and bid you a goodbye (Along with a side-eye)

It was now 11 pm, the Campfire sing-along ended almost an hour ago, and you were in your cabin, re-arranging your stuffed toys for the 5th time, (Making one plushie lay beside you will cause chaos among the plushies)

"Carrie..You go here and..Princess should be right....here, Done!"

All of your plushies were in order when you heard a knock from the window near your bunkbed. then, you saw luke, still in his usual camp shirt, unlike you who was in your rather inappropriate pajamas.

His eyes first landed on you, he then grinned before groaning and landing on your soft bunk bed.

"Hey ives-"

"Luke, what're you doing here?!" You hissed, afraid that your half siblings might caught you two.

"Can i not see you?"

"You can, but not at this time" You huffed, But he was still grinning before pulling a flower pot, with a rose.

"I grew this for you, Ives" He whispered, His eyes carefully scanning you expression before you chuckled.

"You know i can grow this in seconds?"

"Mhm, But still, I love you 'till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash"

A smile graced upon your lips before luke grabbed your cheeks and kissed you, the flowerpot fell into your bed, the soil staining your new bedsheet, You couldn't care less.

You deepened the kiss by pulling Luke by his neck, and a groan escaped his lips, his calloused hands then slowly went up your shorts making you moan a little, His hands became closer and closer and closer until-

"Luke?"

You two pulled away, Luke's hands were still in your inner thighs, he took a peak into your window and saw Percy, in his cute pajamas with messy blonde hair.

"Percy" Luke breathed.

"What's up?"

"The Apollo cabin seemed to be having a party, the noise is too loud and i can't sleep, i was wondering if you could go see it "

You then peaked into your window, your cheeks were pressed against luke's

"Y/n? Wait..what are you guys doing? and...why are you in her window?" Percy asked, his drowsiness seemed to have vanished.

Luke couldn't even answer percy himself, he started chuckling softly before burying his face into your neck and smothered it with kisses.

Percy then stood still before realizing, he cleared his throat, but before he could leave you called him.

"You know what? I think Luke could actually take a look at those Sun Brats" Luke immediately groaned and looked at you.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Go help the poor boy"

"Yes Ma'am"

He then got up and just as he was about to climb down your bunk bed you stopped him.

"Nah uh, You can leave where you entered"

The dark haired boy chuckled, and and started climbing down the window, before he could jump back to the ground you kissed him one last time, But this time, the kiss was much more passionate. You could've sworn percy made a gagging face before turning around.

"I love you Ives"

" 'Till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash" You said, Luke's eyes soften.

You watched as he and Percy went to the Apollo cabin to resolve the chaos.

The flower potted rose sat in your bed, You took it, and glanced at the beautiful red beauty, You sniffed the fragrance before placing it near your window as you felt Hypnos' warm palm caressing you to sleep.

The next day, The first thing you did was bang into Felix's cabin, Giving him every detail from last night as Luke, along with percy watched you from afar.

A/N:

Hey Guys! I've been gone for too long and i just watched the new PJO series and i have to be honest, I fell in love with Charlie as Luke so here's a little treat for you guys while i finish my other fics, i do hope you guys like it!

#percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackson #Disney series #luke castellan

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fairytsuk1 · 4 months ago

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four seasons | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

words: 5.4k

warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging

It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.

"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"

Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"

Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."

"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"

Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet.

An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.

He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.

Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.

You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.

"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.

You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.

"Hey."

It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.

"What's your–"

"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.

It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"

The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.

"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."

"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"

It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."

"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"

You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."

"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."

"I will," you challenge.

"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"

"You insulted me first!"

Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.

Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.

You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"

The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.

After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.

A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.

Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.

A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.

"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.

You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."

Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.

"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."

"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."

"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."

"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."

"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"

He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.

"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"

"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute."

"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.

"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.

You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.

Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.

You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"

"...Alright, yeah."

The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.

If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.

Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.

Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."

“Friends? What kinda friends?”

"Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.

"Well, okay…"

Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.

"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"

A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.

No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.

As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"

"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."

You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.

“You sleep early?”

“You don’t?”

Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.

"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."

"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.

A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.

"Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"

He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.

"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."

"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."

The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.

"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"

"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"

"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"

"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"

You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.

"Yeah, you really can't."

It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.

"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.

"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.

"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"

Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.

"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."

Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!

Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.

A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.

You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.

"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.

Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.

The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.

You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.

You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.

Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.

"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.

You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."

"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."

There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.

"You know what I mean?"

His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.

"I think I do."

"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."

Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.

You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.

Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.

He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."

"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"

Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.

"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."

"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"

"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"

"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.

Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."

A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.

"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."

Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.

It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.

He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."

"Why? Sensitive?"

Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"

His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.

"All I did was ignore you the first time–"

"And then I did the second!"

Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"

He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.

"She's beggin' too."

In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.

"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"

“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”

He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.

"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"

Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."

His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.

"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."

There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”

"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.

Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.

"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.

"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."

"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"

Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…

He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."

The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.

"Like this?"

You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."

"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."

With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."

"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"

He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.

"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.

"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"

The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"

He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!

"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"

"Was that so hard?"

Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!

"S-So deep, ohshit!"

"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."

You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.

Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.

"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"

"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."

Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”

He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.

Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"

With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.

"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"

"No. Are you?"

"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.

He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.

—

You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.

Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?

"Hey! What's up?"

"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."

"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."

"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.

The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.

"See ya," he grumbles.

"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.

He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.

"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.

There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."

"Stop it!"

298 notes · View notes

humanpurposes · 3 months ago

Text

August

Part 3: Summer's Over

The aftermath of dinner leaves you with some doubts. The month is drawing to a close and the cracks are starting to show.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader // Modern AU

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, angst, trauma dumping

Words: 8.8k

A/n: Part 3/3!! Ignoring the fact that it is now October :)

You follow glimpses of him through the house only to lose sight of him at the old oak staircase, but you guess where he is heading.

When you reach his bedroom door it’s closed. You place the tips of your fingers on the door handle. There’s an awful feeling in your stomach, like you’re empty, like you’re missing something. Maybe this was just a cruel joke. Maybe Daeron’s a sore loser and says stuff like this all the time. Maybe it was only a cheap way to cause upset. Maybe Aemond didn’t want to deal with it.

Did he expect you to follow him from the dinner table? Is he expecting you to care?

This isn’t your problem to fix and Aemond isn’t yours to comfort. That evening on the beach, before you would have called him a friend, he said you were a good listener, but when has he asked you for advice in the days since? The lines have all become blurred. You’re not ‘just friends’, that’s clear enough, but you’re not more than that either.

“It’s just that Aemond’s usually into older women–”

If it was only teasing Aemond wouldn’t have left. He would have given something back.

“Aemond?”

At first there’s no audible reply. You hold your breath waiting for a response, even just a sigh, even if he just told you to go away.

You step back, startled as the door opens.

He’s still in his slacks and shirt from dinner, the top few buttons undone and revealing a silver chain sitting at the base of his neck. He takes a moment to look at you, then swallows thickly and steps aside to let you in.

The room is cold and smells of sea salt. A breeze blows in through a thin opening in the window, the curtains thrown open to the violet sky of dusk. The moon is out already, full, bright and beautiful.

You take a few steps before you turn to face his figure standing against the light of the hallway. Muted moonlight shines on his blinded eye and the scar that frames it. His face is passive, calm, but something about this seems so wrong.

What if he doesn’t want you here? What if he wants to be alone?

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says.

That’s it? You aren’t sure what else you were expecting from someone usually so perfectly composed. Maybe a glimpse into his mind. Maybe a suggestion of how he feels other than trying to seem unbothered. Now you’re standing in a room where you felt at ease only hours before, by the bed where he fucked you, wondering why you even bothered to follow him in the first place.

“It was all very backhanded, what Daeron said,” you say.

Aemond hums in agreement.

“I’m sure he was doing it on purpose, he just wanted to upset you after you beat him.”

You stay in silence, a dangerous game because it gives you a chance to think. There’s something you don’t know, something everyone else is in on. Aemond doesn’t know anything about your past, the people you’ve loved, the people you might have loved if things had been different, the memories that live inside of your head. Equally, you don’t know anything about him.

You can’t take this, the blanks, the empty space, the overwhelming quiet of the wind.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Aemond’s face falls. He comes into you, taking the sides of your face in his hands. Every point of contact sends a shiver through your skin, the heels of his palms by your chin, his thumbs against your cheeks, his fingertips at your neck. “No, I want you to stay.”

Maybe he thinks kissing you will make you forget everything. To an extent, it works. Once his lips are on yours it drowns out all the noise in your head and all you feel is the sensation, the delicate way he moves against your mouth, his heat, his hands trailing down your body.

He’s slow to take off your clothes, to lay you on his bed and kiss the exposed parts of your body. Once he has you how he wants you, bare and breathless and wanting, he tugs at the buttons of his shirt, eye always on you. You figure it’s only fair to admire him back, the lines of his slender and toned torso, the definition in his arms, in his neck when he tenses when his breath hitches.

There’s a dazed look in his face, parted lips, softened brow, as he positions himself between your legs. He wastes no time on preamble or teasing you. Your hands move into his hair. His tongue is firm and purposeful, moving with every jolt of your hips, every sigh and moan. Once he slips a finger inside of you it’s easy to let go, to give into the pleasure and let yourself fall apart, tugging his hair at the roots and you know that he doesn’t mind if it hurts.

He groans as he pulls away from you, straining underneath his slacks.

Helplessly, you reach for him, only managing to graze your nails over his hands as he holds your thighs open. He tilts his head at you as he stands and bares himself, taking his time with it, knowing how desperately you want to feel him near again.

It only takes a few strokes until he’s hard, then he’s leaning over you, dragging his head teasingly against your cunt. Your back arches every time he presses against your clit.

“Please,” you whisper, “Aemond, please,”

“That’s a good girl,” he says with a hum, finally pushing inside you.

You gasp at the sensation, the pleasure through the initial pain. “Need you– need you deeper,” you whine.

“So impatient,” Aemond says, “need to stretch you out first, don’t I?”

You nod and hum incoherently. Anything. Anything he gives you, you’ll take it.

He holds your wrists by your head as he starts to fuck you. He rests his head against yours, lips ghosting over your temple, his breath hot, heavy and strained with grunts and groans. More than anything you crave the sounds he makes, the way his face feels pressed against yours.

You could die when he pulls away, but he repositions himself, laying back on the bed, moving you on top of him to straddle him.

You adjust your hair and brace yourself against his chest with one palm. “I’ve never been on top before.”

“We’ll go slow,” he says as he guides you to sink down onto his cock.

The angle is hollowing. You feel your jaw go slack and Aemond grins at the look on your face. He’s infuriating, intoxicating.

You set yourself a steady rhythm, looking down along your breasts, your stomach, to the point where your bodies come together. Aemond moves against you, pressing deeper every time your hips meet yours.

“Is this good?” you say.

He nearly chokes on his own breath. “Fuck, yes,”

You press your lips together, determined to quicken your pace, chasing the feeling bursting at your core. You’re close. Aemond is holding your hips, bucking up into you, trailing his thumb to your clit to circle over it.

Sounds of pleasure slip past your lips. It’s in the back of your mind to keep quiet, considering the risk of other people being in the house, even if they’re miles away. There’s no space in your mind for logic or self preservation.

It builds slowly, tearing through you, tides and riptides. Aemond holds you as your body starts to shake and eventually you have to push his hand away because it’s too much.

He pulls you into his arms, laying you along his body. Your hair falls over his face and he laughs it off. You bury your face into his neck as he grips you, fucks you frantically.

��I’m going to come,” he hisses against your ear.

You’re floating in the aftermath of your orgasm, hints of pleasure licking up your spine where he pushes against a particular space inside of you. “Please,” you feel yourself mumble, “please, please,”

“Where?”

“Inside me.”

He holds you tighter, goes faster, tries to hold in his moans. When he stills he pushes deeper inside you, bringing his lips to your temple as if to thank you.

Your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat and now you’ve stopped moving, the breeze dances over you. You press your teeth together to stop yourself from shivering, clinging a little tighter to Aemond for his warmth. He’s sweating too but it doesn’t occur to you to be discouraged.

He slips out of you, places you on your side and covers your bodies with the duvet. You cling to him again, your head on his shoulder, your arm thrown over his stomach. It would be a bad idea to fall asleep here. Even if the heat is inviting, the stillness makes you nervous. You glance at his face and he’s staring seemingly into nowhere. What is he thinking about? What is he picturing beyond the sight of his bedroom, books and childhood memorabilia in the gloom of night?

The wind whistles through the window. Eventually you move away from him, out of the warmth of the duvet and enter the glaring white light of the ensuite. Naked, you stand in front of the mirror. Your hair is messy, your mascara smudged around your eyelids. Pale patches of red and purple proudly mark your thighs and breasts, in places only you and Aemond will see. You look tired. You look like you’ve been fucked.

Back in the bedroom, Aemond has moved from the bed. The curtains and the window are closed. He’s in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, sitting at the desk, elbows on the surface, looking at something on his phone. When he hears the door he looks at you and quickly turns off the screen. As casually as you can, you put your clothes back on. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you.

“I’m going to bed,” you say when you’re dressed.

Aemond stands to meet you before you can reach the door. “Listen,” he says, taking a delicate hold of your arm, “thanks for staying. And for checking on me in the first place.”

You shrug. It wasn’t a favour. You wanted to make sure he was alright. “I was worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, and leans in to kiss you. It’s quick, affectionate, almost domestic.

When he pulls away he’s still looking at you. He lets go of your arm, dragging his fingers lightly down your skin until he has no trail left to follow, right to your hand, your fingers. You hesitate, wanting to kiss him again, but something stops you. Something’s still missing.

“Night, Aemond.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eye. “Night.”

It’s raining when you wake up. You’ve been so lucky with the weather all summer, but now the cracks are starting to show. At breakfast you sit with your parents. Your mother asks how your night was, having not seen you since you left the dining room. You say you went to check on Aemond. He was a little upset but he wanted space and you were tired, so you went to bed.

“You two are quite close, I’ve noticed,” she says.

You try not to smile, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

She pulls the same face, trying not to laugh. “I don’t blame you, darling, he’s gorgeous.”

“You saying that must be illegal,” you say.

“Oh please, he’s in his twenties.”

“You’re also married.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, looking at your father, “that too.”

Helaena comes to affectionately pat you on the head when she appears. Aegon grins at you through his teeth, like he knows all your secrets. Daeron is defiant, making a point to greet Viserys, to kiss Alicent on the cheek.

“No Aemond?” Otto says to the Targaryen siblings gathered at one end of the table.

“He got up early I think,” Helaena says, “went for a run.”

You imagine him in a t-shirt and shorts, drenched in rain mingled with sweat, slightly overgrown silver hair sticking to his forehead. You manage a few bites of toast before you start to feel nauseous and try a peach yoghurt instead. It doesn’t help.

You follow Helaena to the library. It’s the perfect weather to watch trash reality TV and psychoanalyse the cast. For a while it’s entertaining, but at some point you start to feel like a scientist watching lab rats.

“How was Aemond last night?” Helaena asks. She’s facing towards the TV, her legs covered in pink patterned leggings, propped up over the arm of the sofa she’s lying on.

“Bothered, clearly, but not very talkative.”

“Hmm.”

An argument has unfolded onscreen. Dreamfyre wanders in through the door and makes a home for herself on Helaena’s lap. “Should I call Cole and ask for some snacks?” she says, flicking the screen of her phone with her thumb.

In a way you’re surprised Aemond hasn’t messaged you, or come to find you, even just to see what you’re up to. You’re sitting on a sofa, a glaringly vacant space next to you.

“I was worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

“Helaena,”

“Mm hmm?”

“What did Daeron mean about Aemond liking older women?”

She doesn’t respond for a while. The chatter on the TV continues. “He wanted a rise out of Aemond. They do it to each other, they always have.”

“Helaena.”

She turns her head to look at you, craning her neck in an awkward position. You can feel the worry in your face, where it tenses, where your eyes are wide. You’re trying not to overthink it, you really are. Helaena understands it as soon as she sees you. She reaches for the remote to turn the volume down on the TV, shrill, angry voices fading into the hum of electricity. “It’s probably not my place to say, I don’t know what he’s told you.”

He’s told you some things, harmless things. No mention of exes or past summer flings. In a way it scares you that you might become an unmentioned thing in his life.

Helaena shuffles the cat off her lap and sits beside you. “Aemond is…a mystery. He doesn’t tell us anything, then one day something will take us all by surprise.”

“Was him moving back to King’s Landing a surprise?”

“In a way. He was so determined to do his own thing. Get out from under dad’s thumb.”

“So why would he come back?”

“Well he…” she lets out a long sigh. “He got involved with someone while he was working at Harrenhal.”

“A girlfriend.”

“He tried to be all secretive about it but I know when he’s hiding something.”

“Were they together for very long?”

“Two years? Maybe more? He was head over heels for her.”

There have been so many possibilities playing around in your head since last night. Maybe there was a one night stand he wasn’t proud of, maybe an unrequited crush. Two years sounds like a long time to you.

You can’t expect Aemond to have not had a whole life beyond now, beyond you, but there’s a restless feeling in your chest. Daeron mentioning this woman was enough to get to Aemond. And you were the one that went running right to him.

“Sorry, I know you like him,” Helaena says.

“And what, they broke up so he’s moving back?”

“I think it got a bit messy, she was his manager. He probably thought he was better off in a different job, and when your dad is Viserys Targaryen why not take advantage, you know?”

“And she was older than him?”

“Gods yeah, she was twice age, divorced, no kids though.”

“Right.”

“He’s been brooding for months, even over the phone I knew something was bothering him.”

You’re trying to keep your face relaxed. This woman, she’s in the past now, it shouldn’t change how you feel about him, or how he feels about you. But the seed is planted. You don’t know what she looks like but you imagine a deep, sultry laugh in your head, red painted lips, expensive high heels.

“Which is why it’s been so nice to see him come out of his shell lately,” Helaena adds, patting your knee. “You’ve brought that out of him.”

Around lunchtime the weather clears up. The sun shines through the panes of clear and coloured glass in the dining room and Aemond walks in dressed in jeans and red jumper. He sits next to you, smiles at you, offers to pour you a glass of white wine and insists on serving you portions of salad and fries to go with the cuts of steak brought out. His leg rests against yours. When he makes a joke to the table he looks at you while everyone else is laughing. He picks a few stray fries from your plate and grins at you with perfect teeth when you scowl at him. “You’re adorable,” he says, leaning into you, hand wandering to your thigh.

After eating, you hang around with Aemond and his siblings. Aegon claims to have a deck of cards which turns out to be Uno. The lingering tension is obvious. Daeron can’t look Aemond in the eye, even Helaena’s being short with her youngest brother. In the first round of the game you all have a silent agreement to gang up on Daeron and make his life a misery at every opportunity. That makes Aemond smile, so it makes you smile. When Daeron is on the verge of tears Aemond says “fine, we’ll go easy on you then,” and poor Daeron ends up losing again.

“That’s karma, mate,” Aegon says.

After dinner that night you and Aemond drink cocktails, sweet and strong, in the drawing room with the adults. You’re reminded of how charming Aemond is, how well he can work a room when he’s switched on. Always understated, never too brash or too loud. He laughs with your father, compliments your mother’s dress. You feel yourself getting tipsy, hypnotised by the lowlights of the room, the colourful glass lampshades, the glow of the ends of cigarettes.

On your way to bed, Aemond stops you at the bottom of the oak staircase. His pupil is blown wide, black and blue, drinking in the sight of you. He takes a hold of your waist, gently presses you back into the bannister and kisses you like he’ll never get the chance again. Grasping at your body, pushing and pulling you in closer and closer until you’re caged against him.

There’s a silhouette of a woman lingering in the back of your mind. What would a woman from the Riverlands be like, the kind of woman Aemond Targaryen could fall in love with? Did she listen to him talk about history? Did he list his favourite books to her? Was she clever like him, understated like him? If she was divorced was she cold and guarded, or was she gentler?

You shouldn’t overthink it. You shouldn’t think about it at all.

Aemond takes you to his bedroom. He’s eager to get your clothes off, more hurried than he usually is. Once he’s made you come with his fingers and his tongue he gets you on your hands and knees, pushing into you from behind. Your body feels weightless with every thrust inside of you, every snap of his hips against your ass. Your moans are lewd and gasping.

Aemond pulls your torso up, one hand over your mouth, the other keeping you in position. “Can’t fucking help it, can you,” he says between laboured breaths. “Does it feel that good, sweetheart?”

You can only moan against his palm in response.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re desperate.”

You’d say the same about him, if you could.

And the days are all fading into one again. Summer will soon be over to the sound of rain hammering against the windows, thunderstorms and the violent roar of the sea.

Daeron’s comment at dinner is mostly forgotten. He and Aemond are joking again, taking their own jabs at Aegon. Helaena is relieved the boys are all friends again, she says she can’t stand it when their family fights. You watch movies indoors, Helaena walks you through a recipe for lemon cakes with the last of the fruit from a tree on the grounds. When it’s not raining you and Aemond walk Vhagar and Sunfyre around the gardens. You spend every night in his bed and wake up in his arms each morning.

One afternoon Aemond decides to take the dogs on a trail along the cliffs. A light shower falls from the sky but most of the path goes through a forest, evergreens, which keep the rain off you. The sea stretches out to your right and Aemond holds your left hand to keep you on his seeing side.

Nothing in particular prompts you, but the thought has been there for some time now. In less than a week you’ll get back into your parents’ car and drive to King’s Landing. You’ll begin the rest of your life. You’ll see your friends again, go to your favourite pubs on Conquest Street, find a job, maybe live for yourself for a little while. And Aemond would be in the same city.

“How come you’re moving back to King’s Landing?”

He’s doing that thing again, not looking at you. He keeps his grip on your hand, pouts his lips slightly, thinking. “It’s where my job is.”

New job, you think. He didn’t have to go work at his father’s company.

He turns his head when you don’t reply, eye meeting yours. “Is that not a good enough explanation for you?” he says with a slight grin.

“I didn’t say there has to be an explanation.”

“But?”

“But you don’t seem that thrilled about it.”

He shrugs. “It’s just how life has worked out.”

You walk on in silence for a few minutes. Aemond keeps looking ahead to make sure the dogs are still in his sight. You feel the weight of his hand in yours, the heat of his skin and his fingers curled over your knuckles.

You catch the side of your mouth in your teeth. “Helaena mentioned you had an ex at Harrenhal.”

“Did she,” Aemond says, stone faced, eye fixed on Vhagar as she prowls around the trunk of a tree. “What did she tell you?”

Twice his age. Divorced. A coworker– no, manager.

“Not much, that you were together for a while and you worked together.”

He stops walking. His gaze is stern, almost focused. In the gloom of the trees and the overcast sky his eye is more grey than blue.

“When did you two break up?”

“January, just after New Year’s.”

“Why?”

“We kept having these fights, and I suppose she didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“For the last few months. Work took a lot out of her, and me too, but at some point it became harder to balance everything.”

“She was your manager, right?”

“Hel told you that? Yeah, she was. I know how it sounds, we knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to let anything happen. But we got on, and something did happen, and it worked.”

You try to soften your expression, to show him you’re listening. He’s opening up and that should make you happy, right? “So what went wrong?”

“Grandfather was the one who wanted me to work for Targ Corp. We have a half-sister, Rhaenyra. It's a bit of a weird situation but she took her kids and moved to Pentos with my uncle Daemon and his wife, Laena.”

“Oh,”

Aemond makes a sceptical sound against his teeth. “Father was furious, mum was mortified, I don’t know why she took it so personally, but Rhaenyra was always the favourite. Otto saw the opportunity, as he always does, offered me a job and a place on the board.”

“And you took it?”

“Actually I turned him down. I was happy at Harrenhal, I liked my job, I was trying to convince Alys to move in with me, why would I throw that all away? But then she kept asking about it, said Targ Corp was a bigger company and I’d have better opportunities, said I was stupid to turn down a board position.”

“Didn’t she want you to stay?”

His hand comes to his jaw. “I would have hoped so. After that we kept picking arguments, even at work. It wasn’t feasible anymore. If I was around her we’d fight, if I kept my distance she’d complain. Nothing was ever good enough.”

You feel his hand loosen in its grip. You try to hold onto him tighter, but he slips from your grasp and shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat instead.

“I wanted it to work so badly, but eventually she just… gave up on me,” he says. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to know.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say. You thread your arm into his like a half-hearted hug. He’s watching the sea, breathing deeply, brow furrowed, lips fallen. “Do you miss her?”

“I miss when things were good. I don’t miss the rest of it.”

After dinner that night, when Aemond starts to corner you and ask if you want to go to bed, you tell him you’re tired and want to go straight to sleep. He seems concerned but doesn’t question you. He walks you to your bedroom and kisses your forehead. Before he can pull away you peck him on the cheek.

When you close the door, you feel an empty space inside your chest. Sleeping in your own bed, you miss the presence of another body beside you, his limbs intertwined with yours, the smell of his shower gel, his sweat, just him. It’s a peaceful sleep nonetheless.

The 31st of August. It’s just after breakfast and this time tomorrow you’ll be driving through the gatehouse of Dragonstone, through the town, past all the bookshops and cafes you could have spent more time in. At least now you can say you’ve spent a month as a guest at a castle. You treat yourself to a final walk through the house, the library, the portrait gallery adorned with paintings of members of the Targaryen family; silver hair is a common theme.

Viserys has already hung up a portrait of himself. He’s sat in a chair in a hall you recognise from the Red Keep; you visited years ago as part of a school trip. To his right stands a woman with silver hair, her hand resting on his shoulder. To his left is another woman, short hair, black suit, the family sigil on her lapel. Sitting below them, on some kind of steps are his remaining four children, Aegon, Helena, Daeron, and Aemond at the end. The painting certainly wasn’t painted in real time, all of Alicent’s kids would have been born after Aemma Arryn died, which means Viserys chose to include his first wife and exclude his second.

You take a step closer until you can see each brushstroke. Aemond looks about ten, chin in his palm, looking solemn and serious where his other siblings have subtle smiles on their faces. His left eye is clouded over, but there’s no scar.

Aemond hasn’t said anything more about the ex, Alys. You found her on LinkedIn one night when you couldn’t sleep. She doesn’t seem to post often, but reposts a lot from her company’s profile, Harrenhal PR. She has a square jaw, a pointed nose, short black hair and pale skin. Gorgeous, but just a normal person.

When you woke up the next morning you felt so guilty you cleared your search history and deleted the app from your phone for good measure.

Helaena said you’d brought something out of Aemond this summer, that you made him happy. You want to make the most of that. And there are twenty four hours left.

The rain has stopped since last night. The air is clean and clear, the sun even feels warm again. You decide to have a final walk around the pool, conveniently spotting Aemond pulling a packet of cigarettes from a back pocket when you open the door to the patio. Really, you’ve been meaning to talk to him. Properly talk to him.

He puts a cigarette between his lips, curled in a half smile as he raises a lighter to the end. Flame flickers, smoke floats from his mouth and disappears into the faint smell of greenery and chlorine. He takes a long drag and pouts his lips to exhale. “So, are you packed yet?”

“Mostly. I’ll only have to throw a few things into my bag before we go.”

He takes another drag, his breath heavy against the back of his throat. Cigarettes smell like nights out, leaning on the balcony of a dorm party, hangovers and questionable decisions. Now cigarettes smell like Aemond and summer.

He’s looking at you intently. “Are you going to miss me?” smirking as he says it.

You force yourself to laugh. For some reason you’d been expecting him to say something sweet, honest. It puts your defences up. No, I’m not. Can’t wait to be rid of you actually. You could play it off like a joke too. You fold your arms and shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“What’s the plan when you get back, job applications?”

“I guess so. What about you?”

He taps the cigarette, ash floating to the ground. “Well, work.”

You don’t like Aemond pretending to be unserious, his short responses. “Do you have friends in King’s Landing?”

“A few acquaintances. Work will keep me busy enough.”

“Right.” You can feel your heart creeping up into your throat. You can feel it pulsing. Aemond takes another drag and half smiles. “We should go out one night, the two of us.”

He takes the cigarette between two fingers and pulls it away from his mouth. You know something’s gone wrong when that air of self assuredness starts to melt away. He puts his weight into his hand on the balustrade, leaning slightly away from you.

He says your name like he’s exhausted. “Look, we’ve had fun, but I didn’t think–” another drag, another audible breath.

“Didn’t think what?”

“I’m not looking to be in a relationship right now.”

The way he says that word makes you sick. Relationship. Like it’s poison in the air around you, like it’s churning in his stomach. It’s making yours turn now.

In a way you knew it. You knew you were missing something.

Aemond tosses the cigarette onto the grass and places his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

The space behind your eyes is hot and stinging and your hand is trembling. You try to dig your nails into your palm to make it stop. All of it. Your head has tilted down, your eyes are on the concrete tiles, Aemond’s white sneakers. “Okay,” you say.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“I just want to be honest.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you’re amazing, I want you to know that. It’s just not the right time for me.”

He looks at you, a combination of sadness and hopefulness in his expression. Was he planning on telling you this? Or was he going to stop replying your texts once you’d left his family home?

He’s stroking his thumb along your arm. You take a step back.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Aemond.”

He calls your name as you walk away. You don’t need explanations right now. You don’t need honesty. You need to be alone.

Part of you worries he’ll follow you down to the poolside. Part of you wants him to. But you know he won’t. Why would he? When you reach the sunloungers, you look back to the patio and Aemond is gone. You look around you, at this beautiful garden this beautiful house, the trickle and hum of the pool filter, it’s all so perfect. This whole summer has been perfect. But it was always going to end.

Aemond doesn’t show up for dinner. Aegon says he’s got a headache and that he’s going to take the dogs for a walk.

Most of the other guests are leaving tomorrow, the Velaryons, the Wyldes, the Lannisters, and everyone wants to make the most of the night. It’s like a Christmas party, jokes and toasts, stories reminiscing better times, declarations of hopes for the future. Helaena sits beside you and keeps asking you all sorts of questions to keep you engaged in the conversation. You put on your best smile. “I loved that little bakery in town… I can’t believe I got to stay in a castle, I feel like a Princess… alright, I admit it, Aegon has good taste in films.”

You try to ignore the empty space at the head of the table.

Is it better that he said no then and there? Imagine if he’d taken you up on the offer, if you’d gone for dinner or drinks, if you’d ended up at his place or yours. Would it hurt more if he told you a week or a month down the line? Would it have been better if none of this had happened in the first place?

You tell yourself not to regret it. It was good in the moment. It was fun and exciting, it was good to feel wanted for once, and being with him made you happy. You thought it made him happy too.

Dinner is followed by drinks in the drawing room. You join in for a while, until Aegon, Daeron and Helaena want to go down to the beach, one last time for summer’s sake. The sun is still setting and it's mild out. You and Helaena swap your heels for sneakers and wear coats over your dresses, while the boys go in their shirts and slacks.

Damp sand shifts under your shoes and a sharp wind stings against the skin of your cheeks and hands. As the sun slips closer to the horizon the sky burns brighter and fiercer. You breathe in the air, the smell of salt, the sound of the waves. Aegon and Daeron run towards the edge of the water, ditching their shoes, flicking seawater at each other, laughing hysterically.

Helaena links her arm through yours.

“I’m going to miss it here,” you say. Being by the sea in King’s Landing isn’t the same. In the city there are busy harbours, factories and old power stations along the shore. There are some public beaches, none that would offer the same peaceful isolation of right here, right now.

“Me too. I miss it every year, but then we come back to it.”

You can’t see yourself coming back here. Maybe Viserys will invite your parents again, but by next summer you could have a job, your own life in King’s Landing you won’t be able to leave behind for a whole month. And even if you wanted to, this whole place reminds you of Aemond. You imagine Sunfyre and Vhagar running along the beach, pawprints in the sand, Aemond by your side, talking with his hands, retreating into himself when you mentioned King’s Landing.

You don’t want to be upset about it.

“We’ll hang out in King’s Landing,” Helaena says.

A shudder goes through you. “It won’t be like this,” you say.

“Will it matter where we are? We’ll still be friends.”

You look at her, eyes watering with the wind. She smiles.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just being stupid.”

She squeezes your arm. “No, you’re not.”

“It’s just, I’ve really liked this. It’s been nice living for myself, not having to think about lectures or exams or what the rest of my life is going to look like, because I’ll figure it out like everyone else. Only it wasn’t– I’m leaving and the month is ending. How could I think this feeling was going to last forever?”

A shriek of laughter from the boys catches both of your attentions. Aegon’s fallen on his arse and drenched himself completely.

“Idiots, they’ll get hypothermia,” Helaena mutters with a grin. She turns back to you. “Maybe this is an ending, but maybe it’s the start of something else.”

You nod. You know she’s right. The world doesn’t start or end with a single person, but it still hurts.

“I thought it was weird Aemond wasn’t at dinner.”

“Yeah, well,”

Helaena looks like she wants to say something, but she pouts her lips, like Aemond does when he’s thinking.

Aegon and Daeron call you down to the shore. You slip your shoes off and place your feet in the water, it’s like ice shooting up through your legs. You shriek and giggle, and kick water at Daeron when he tries to splash you.

Aegon puts one arm around Helaena, another soaked arm around yours. “Ladies, gent, it’s been a pleasure.”

You’d forgotten the Targaryens were about to part ways for another year too. Aemond and Helaena will be in the same city, but Daeron has another year left at Citadel Boys and Aegon never seems to stay in one place for very long.

“Don’t get all emotional on us, Aeg,” Daeron says.

“And don’t miss me too much when you’re in Oldtown, kiddo.”

“I’m sure he’ll survive,” Helaena says.

When you finally reach the top of the path back to the house, shivering and damp, you’re the first to spot someone standing just outside the main doors. You know it’s him, you recognise his silhouette and his posture, the faint glow of a cigarette.

You hang back a little. Aegon and Daeron show off their soaked shirts and wet hair. Helaena gives him a kiss on the cheek and they all head inside.

You stare at each other for a moment, alone.

“Did you, um, have a nice evening?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He takes another quick drag. “I was just thinking and, you know, I feel bad about, well, everything.”

You’re so ready to get out of the cold. All you want is a shower and the weight of your duvet. You’re too tired to fight this fight. “It’s fine, you were just being honest.”

“But I don’t want you to think–”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say. “I want to go to bed.”

Aemond hangs his head, taps some ash onto the ground.

You take a step towards the doors. And stop yourself.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You’ve spent the whole summer flirting with me, talking me into your bed, making me think you liked me, just to throw it all back in my face?”

Aemond seems utterly perplexed. “No, gods, don’t say it like that,” he says in a harsh whisper.

But you’re done being gracious and apologetic. “Like what? Like I was a convenient fuck? That’s what this was, wasn’t it? And now I look like a complete dickhead for thinking this actually meant something to you.”

“It does— it did.”

Your heart beats furiously in your chest. How could you possibly believe him? “So you liked me enough for a summer fling, but not enough to keep me around, is that it?”

Aemond tosses his cigarette to the ground and drives it into the gravel with his foot. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“I don’t know what to think. Was this all a lie? Were we playing pretend?”

Every time you caught him looking at you, every coffee he brought you when he was grovelling for your forgiveness, every conversation, every time he kissed you, every night you spent in his bed, it wasn’t real.

“I like you. I never played up my feelings. I wasn’t trying to get something out of you,” he says.

Then why does it have to be so confusing and complicated? Why can’t it be enough that you like him and he likes you? Why can’t it be enough that you like being with him?

Your heart sinks. “Is this about Alys?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s nothing to do with you.”

“Are you not over her or something?”

“Yes! No, I– I don’t fucking know. I haven’t thought about her for months and then…”

“And then what?”

He looks at you like he’s pleading for something. You’re waiting for him to say he still loves her. You’re waiting for him to admit you were just a placeholder, someone to fill a missing space. He huffs in frustration, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Are you jealous, is that it?”

You flinch at the harshness of his tone. Jealous of someone you’ve never met? Who he never brought up until his brother wanted to be petty? You can’t bring yourself to say it outright. If he still loves her or not, the mere mention of her made him withdraw.

Aemond steadies his breathing. He steps into you and your instinct is to back away but you let yourself stand still. His chest is close to yours, your faces inches apart. He doesn’t touch you. “This,” he says, gesturing between the two of you, “this was good, why can’t we leave it at that?”

Then you do back away from him and as you look at him you realise he’s being sincere. Tears stream from your cheeks. You don’t gasp for air or try to stop yourself from crying. You can’t stay out here in the cold. You can’t look at him any longer.

But you look him in the eye one final time, even though it hurts, even though you want nothing more than to lose yourself in his embrace, and say, “maybe this is for the best. I don’t want to live my life afraid of the future.”

You give him another moment to say something, but all he can do is look at you. There’s nothing else you want from him. You head inside the house, dried tears on your cheeks, your heart that little bit more guarded, into the warm light of the chandeliers hanging over the entrance hall.

The 31st of October. It’s 5pm and it’s already dark. Even though the same thing happens every year it somehow manages to surprise you how short the days are in autumn and winter. You’ve watched daylight come and go from behind the counter of the cafe, a job which your dad thinks is a waste of time. You change out of your t-shirt and apron, into some blue jeans, a black sweater and wrap yourself up in a coat and scarf. As you pass the counter to leave one of your colleagues hands you a white paper bag, a slice of pumpkin loaf cake, which you’ve been eyeing up all day.

You walk quickly to the bus stop, grateful to see you’ve arrived at the same time as the bus, no need to wait in the cold. You find a seat near the back, put some headphones on and take a few bites of the cake, sweet and spicy. Lights and Halloween decorations turn into a blur. You watch people heading home from work, chatting outside pubs, the odd group of girls in fancy dress.

Rain starts to spit against the window as a large white building comes into view. You press the red stop button and stand by the doors as a robotic voiceover will be announcing the next stop as National Museum.

Once you’re off the bus you hurry up the steps to the museum’s main entrance. Someone scans a ticket on your phone, a security guard looks through your bag where he’ll only find your work clothes, a bottle of water and some spare mint tea bags.

Visiting hours are about to end and the main hall of the museum is practically empty, save for a few statues of Kings and Queens and academics. It’s eerie. A few voices echo through the pillars and vaulted ceiling. You see some people dressed in suits and smart dresses head up a marble staircase on the other side of the hall and suppose that’s the direction you’ll be heading in too. There are signs to help as well, pointing you towards the Tyrell Lecture Hall.

Your phone buzzes as you head towards the doors. You fumble to turn it on silent and check an incoming text message. Dyana, from work, the two of you became fast friends when you started working at the cafe: Offer’s still there for tonight btw!! Would be great if you came xx

But then I understand if you wanna spend Halloween talking about dead people. Very fitting lol

You walk towards the door to the lecture hall while looking down at your phone. The book launch ends at 8pm. People probably won’t show up to Dyana’s until 9pm. You could make it. But you don’t have a costume. You could go back to your place first. But then–

Knowing that you’re probably a few steps from walking face first into the doors to the lecture hall, you look up. Someone is holding the door open. You make eye contact with a single blue eye.

“Hi,” Aemond says. He’s in a black turtleneck jumper which accentuates his jaw beautifully. He has a purple lanyard around his neck and a brown coat thrown over his arm. His hair has grown since August.

“Hi,” you say, without taking a breath.

“You’re here for the book launch?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering inside where people are taking their seats on rows of ornate wooden benches around the main stage.

“I didn’t know you were interested in Valryian history?”

“I’m not to be honest, I just thought it would be interesting, especially after spending the summer at Dragonstone…”

An awkward silence falls between you.

You’re still looking at each other and Aemond suddenly smiles. “How are you? You look good,”

You raise an eyebrow.

He clears his throat and runs his free hand through his hair. “I meant, have you found a job yet?” His cheeks and the tip of nose are turning pink.

“I did. Not the one my parents were expecting, but I wanted some time to figure things out, go to book launches and exhibitions and plays, you know?”

“What’s the job?”

“I’m working in a cafe on Sisters Street, Blue Moon.”

His eye brightens. “No way, on Sister’s Street? I pass that place all the time, it’s right by my department building, I keep meaning to go in.”

You try not to frown, but the Red Keep, the main office for Targ Corp, sits on Aegon’s Hill overlooking Blackwater Bay, a good distance from Sisters Street. “Department building?”

“Yeah, so, right, I spent one week working for my father and I hated it. It was all very last minute and my father was furious but I enrolled in a curation course at King’s College.” He holds up his lanyard to show you and sure enough, it’s attached to a student ID card.

“Wow, Aemond, that’s amazing.”

“I was thinking about what you said, actually, about not being afraid to live life.”

You wince. That was the last thing you had said to him, until now. You said that because you were upset and frustrated at him, at his ridiculous logic, that he would end something to avoid an outcome neither of you could be sure of. With time and space to think, you’d realised he had done it for himself, not for you. It hadn’t saved you from the heartbreak, but maybe that was your fault for getting your hopes up. And to hear him say it back to you is a bittersweet feeling.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say.

It’s getting close to the start of the presentation, the other attendees are settling down but you can’t quite bring yourself to walk through the door yet.

Aemond lets the door close so the two of you are alone in the hallway. “Look, I know we’re about to go in, but I’ve thought a lot about you”

You press your jaw together. The morning you left Dragonstone he didn’t show his face at breakfast. He didn’t come to the entrance hall as you were leaving. When Helaena followed you outside and walked with you to your parents’ car, you took a final look at the facade of the castle, at all the individual windows and saw nothing. You thought he wanted to forget you, to move on and leave you in the memory of summer.

“I wasn’t fair to you. And you were right, I was afraid. I was scared of having something good in my life because I thought, what’s the point? It’s not going to last forever.”

“But isn’t the alternative worse?”

“Well, exactly. Helaena says I’m on the right path if I want to be miserable forever.”

“That sounds promising,” you say lightheartedly.

The corners of his mouth curl shyly. “Turns out, I might not want to be miserable forever.”

Being so close to him is comforting and disorientating. You’ve thought about him too, cried over him, thought about what it would be like to kiss him again, to put your head on his chest, pictured a moment when you might run into him by chance. He’s wearing the same aftershave he did in August, underneath a faint smell of smoke and mint.

You’ve forgiven him before. Could you do it again?

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pressed you about Alys, it wasn’t my place.”

Aemond tilts his head. “It’s alright. I thought I was over the whole thing, but then I met you and it messed with my head.”

“Oh, sorry,”

“No, sweetheart,” he laughs, “not in a bad way. I know I fucked it when we first met, but the more you were around, the more time I spent with you, all I wanted was for you to like me. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time.”

The sound of applause erupts from inside the hall. Dr Orwyle will be about to start his presentation.

Aemond offers his hand to you. “Come sit with me?” he says, and you take it.

You sit together and find seats near the back. Dr Orwyle is a professor at King’s College, presenting his book The Doom of an Empire. He talks about Old Valyria, its presence as the greatest empire of the ancient world, ruled from a capital built into a volcano, the legends of dragon lords and bloodmages.

In the corner of your eye you see Aemond turning his head towards you occasionally. You catch his eye and he smiles.

As Dr Orwyle starts to talk about the final days of Valyria and the mystery of a disaster known as The Doom, you shuffle in your seat and your leg brushes against Aemond’s. You take a breath and let yourself settle against him.

Aemond is practically bursting with questions for a Q&A portion, and Orwyle recognises him as a member of the King’s College History society. You can’t help but feel proud seeing Aemond so animated talking about something that he loves.

You wait with Aemond to get his copy of the book signed and he’s still talking excitedly about an upcoming exhibition on the Valyrian Freehold, which he’s convinced his father to sponsor and loan pieces to.

And when the event is finished, you and Aemond slip your coats on and walk through the museum, his arm in yours. The rain that was starting as you arrived has lulled into a drizzle. You wait under the cover of the grand archway over the museum’s entrance.

You look up at him, trying to bury his chin in his coat, keeping close to you when he sees you shivering.

Noise exists in the space around you, cars, buses, tyres against the wet roads, music from a pub on the other side of the road. You and Aemond are removed from it, standing on the steps of an ancient building. His voice is gentle and you’re close enough to hear it.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

“I’ll get the bus.”

“You could always– I’d be more than happy to give you a lift?”

“No, it’s fine, but thank you.”

“Would you text me when you’re home, so I know you’re safe?”

A warmth blooms in your chest. “Yeah, of course.”

You wonder if this could be the last time you see him. Maybe he’s thinking the same. You look towards the bus stop, anticipating that it could show up any moment. You wonder if Dyana’s texted you again, if she’ll be waiting for you to show up at the party. You tell yourself you should go but you don’t want to walk away from him.

“I think you should stop by Blue Moon sometime,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I can get you a discount on pumpkin spice lattes.”

“Damn, I don’t suppose getting you coffee to apologise will work the same now.”

“No chance.” You let yourself close the distance between you, your chest pressed into his and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His skin is warm against your lips, his breath hot over your ear. You feel his hands at your waist. “But I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Thank you so much for following along with this mini series, I really appreciate all the love <3

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 7 months ago

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Family

Benedict Bridgerton x wife fem reader

The Bridgerton household was unusually calm that morning, a rarity in a home filled with the lively energy of four young children. Benedict Bridgerton, known for his creative spirit and easygoing demeanor, had decided that today would be a day for family, free from the usual hustle and bustle of their social obligations. His wife, Y/N, welcomed the idea of a relaxing day at home with a delighted smile, eager to spend quality time with their children.

The sun streamed through the large windows of their elegant country estate, casting a warm glow across the rooms. Benedict and Y/N had designed their home to be a sanctuary of comfort and beauty, a place where their children could grow and thrive surrounded by love and creativity.

In the spacious kitchen, Y/N was preparing a hearty breakfast. The delicious aroma of freshly baked scones and crispy bacon filled the air, mingling with the scent of brewing coffee. Benedict, ever the doting husband, moved about the kitchen with an easy grace, assisting Y/N with setting the table and entertaining their youngest daughter, Emily, who was tugging at his trousers, giggling.

“Papa, lift me!” Emily demanded with a bright, toothy grin.

Benedict scooped her up effortlessly, spinning her around in a playful dance. Her laughter echoed through the room, drawing the attention of her siblings. Alexander, the eldest at ten, walked in with a book in his hand, followed closely by the twins, Charlotte and Henry, both eight, who were in the midst of a playful argument.

“Papa, tell Charlotte that it’s my turn to choose the game today!” Henry protested, his expression a mix of frustration and determination.

Before Benedict could respond, Y/N intervened with a calm, soothing voice. “Why don’t we all decide together what we’d like to do today? It’s a family day, after all.”

Charlotte and Henry paused, considering their mother’s suggestion. Alexander, wise beyond his years, nodded in agreement. “That sounds fair. What do you think, Papa?”

Benedict smiled, setting Emily down gently. “I think your mother is right. Let’s finish our breakfast, and then we’ll sit down and make a plan for the day.”

As they gathered around the large wooden table, the children’s chatter filled the room with a lively warmth. They discussed their options, ranging from a picnic in the garden to an afternoon of painting and crafts in Benedict’s art studio. After much deliberation, they decided on a bit of everything a picnic, followed by a painting session, and ending the day with a family movie night.

With breakfast finished, they set about preparing for their picnic. Y/N packed a basket with sandwiches, fruits, and a selection of pastries, while Benedict and the children gathered blankets and games to take outside. They chose a spot under a large oak tree in the garden, its branches providing ample shade.

Just as they were about to head out, the front door burst open, and in streamed the entire Bridgerton clan. Anthony, the eldest of Benedict's siblings, led the charge with his wife, Kate, and their children close behind. They were followed by the rest of the Bridgerton siblings: Daphne and her husband, Simon, with their children; Colin and his wife, Penelope; Eloise and Francesca, each with their own families; Gregory and Hyacinth, the youngest siblings, rounding out the lively group.

"Benedict, Y/N!" Anthony called out, a broad smile on his face. "We thought we'd join you for a day of family fun!"

Benedict's face lit up with surprise and joy. "This is a wonderful surprise! The more, the merrier!"

The garden quickly transformed into a vibrant hub of activity. The children ran around, playing games and exploring the vast grounds, while the adults spread out blankets and set up a buffet style picnic. Laughter and conversations filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and happiness.

After lunch, Benedict suggested they all play a game of charades, a favorite Bridgerton family pastime. The idea was met with enthusiastic cheers, and they quickly gathered in the large living room, rearranging furniture to create an open space for the game.

Anthony took charge of organizing the teams, dividing everyone into two groups. Benedict, ever the performer, was up first. He drew a card from the pile and glanced at it, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Colin teased from the opposing team.

Benedict began his act, first miming the shape of a rectangle with his hands and then pretending to hold something heavy. He staggered around the room, his exaggerated movements eliciting giggles from the children and knowing smiles from the adults.

"He's lifting something! A box?" Daphne guessed.

Benedict shook his head vigorously, moving on to the next part of his act. He began to flail his arms wildly, pretending to be caught in a storm. The children burst into laughter, their infectious giggles spreading to the adults.

"A boat! No, a shipwreck!" Y/N called out, trying to contain her laughter.

Benedict nodded eagerly, then dropped to the floor, pretending to swim through turbulent waters. He finally mimed pulling something large and round from the water, holding it triumphantly over his head.

"A giant pearl! A treasure!" Alexander shouted, his eyes wide with excitement.

Benedict pointed at Alexander, nodding with satisfaction. The room erupted in applause and laughter, the children jumping up and down with glee.

"You really outdid yourself this time, brother," Anthony said, clapping Benedict on the back.

The game continued with everyone taking turns, each performance more hilarious than the last. Penelope's impression of a horse had everyone in stitches, while Hyacinth's attempt at miming a famous opera singer brought the house down.

As the afternoon sun began to wane, the family gathered in Benedict’s art studio for a collective painting session. The room, filled with canvases and art supplies, was a haven of creativity. Benedict, with his usual charm, encouraged everyone to express their creativity, handing out brushes and paints. Even the most reluctant participants found themselves caught up in the spirit of the activity, creating a large collaborative mural that would serve as a lasting memory of the day.

When evening came, they moved to the living room for the grand finale: a family movie night. Pillows and blankets were spread out across the floor, and the children nestled in with their cousins, eyes wide with anticipation. The chosen movie was a family favorite, a whimsical adventure that captivated everyone from the youngest to the oldest.

As the credits rolled and the children began to drift off to sleep, Benedict and Y/N, along with the rest of the Bridgertons, carried them to their rooms, tucking them into bed with gentle kisses and whispered goodnights. The house gradually fell silent, the peace of the evening settling over them.

Back in their bedroom, Benedict and Y/N reflected on the day, their hearts brimming with gratitude. Benedict pulled Y/N into a tender embrace, his voice soft with emotion. “Days like this remind me of how lucky we are, my love.”

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his chest. “Indeed, Benedict. Our family is our greatest masterpiece.”

With that, they climbed into bed, the gentle rhythm of their children’s breaths a comforting lullaby. They drifted off to sleep, knowing that while life was often filled with chaos and demands, it was moments like these that truly defined their happiness.

like and comment 🫶🏼

#benedict bridgerton x wife reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton benedict #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine

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oldestmakkapakkafan · 1 year ago

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He is literally everything I ever wanted in a maaaan except that he's white and a cop and he's an alcoholic and has short hair and is named John and is from the 60s almost 70s!!!! <33

#bright oak game #bright oak john #bright oak #brightoakgame #john forster #visual novel #hes sooo guy coded #i am preparing a Pinterest inspo board to write a fic about him on ao3

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osohchoso · 1 month ago

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Shattered Ice

Chapter One- The Morning After

Hockey player!Choso x F!Reader, ex bf!Toji x F!Reader

Previous | Chapter index | Class list | Next

Content: alcohol, vomiting, embarrassment, drunk antics, slight NSFW, cheating MDNI

Harsh rays of sunlight trickle between the blinds and assault your eyelids. Reluctantly, you open them. A low groan escapes you as the bright light causes your head to pound. Trying to ignore the pain, you focus on the room and the details of it. The walls are mostly plain, painted a dark gray. Minimal decorations scattered across the room and a few band posters hung on the wall, though your eyes couldn't focus enough to read which bands they were. A dark oak desk sits in the corner, a few textbooks and a laptop on top.

This bedroom feels foreign to you. It’s not Shoko or Utahime’s, you have spent enough time in your roommates' beds studying and watching movies that you would recognize it instantly. It isn't your best friend Satoru’s either, his is always a chaotic mess. Another detail catches your eye, a hockey stick leaning up against the closet door and next to it is a pile of clothing you recognize as your own. The only friend you have on the hockey team is Suguru, and you would never sleep with your best friend's boyfriend. That's when the panic sets in, whose bed are you in? How did you get here?

You attempt to turn your head to glance at your sleeping partner who you can hear softly snoring beside you, but the sudden motion makes you dizzy. Stomach doing flips in protest. Quickly closing your eyes, you take a few deep breaths to ground yourself. Inhale and exhale until you are convinced the vomit would stay down. With eyes still closed, you tried to rack your brain for how you got in this scenario.

There are three things your college, Kaisen University, is known for. One, the hockey team. The hockey players here are some of the best in the area, many leaving here and going to the big league. You don’t really care too much for sports yourself, but hockey always had a special spot in your heart. You grew up in a family who loved the sport always attending every local game or hosting a watch party with family friends. Some of your favorite memories are when you begged your dad to teach you to ice skate, convinced you would be a hockey player yourself one day to make him proud. This didn’t come true, as you may hold the title for world's worst skater. Even when you miss your family miles away back home, you feel a little better knowing they are watching the same game as you.

Plus you hated football, and would rather die than attend a university known for their football team.

Two, the Animal Science program. You have always loved working with animals and chose to pursue a career as a veterinary technician. The program here offers many hands-on learning experiences and even pairs each student with multiple internships throughout the years. During highschool, you received a full ride scholarship to make your dreams reality, which made choosing Kaisen University an easy choice.

Three, the parties. The parties here are unlike any other university. Every weekend there is always at least one party, celebrating the most stupid things. If there wasn't a reason to party, someone would find one. Celebrating made up holidays like ‘national drink beer day’.

You think a little harder, brain pounding against your skull, trying to remember the reason for last night’s party. The puzzle pieces start to connect, your eyes flinging open once again. The first game of the season. Team captain Sukuna always throws a rager to kick off the start of hockey season. Friday they played their first game of the fall, claiming an easy win. The next night, Sukuna and the team were planning a wild party to celebrate their victory, inviting what felt like the whole university. The captain rents a house with several of his teammates only 20 minutes from campus. The large house and spacious yard make for an excellent party venue, and the neighbors never complain when it gets too loud. Though this is your first time coming to one of his, you refused to attend Sukuna’s parties before because he insisted everyone calls this place his ‘domain’. What an arrogant ass.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you didn’t feel like partying at all last night. The weekend prior, you broke up with your boyfriend of a year. The first few days were spent in a constant back and forth of rage and sadness. Satoru and Suguru tried to cheer you up with a sleepover, burying yourself in chocolate ice cream, but that only made you feel worse. Having to watch two people so in love felt like rubbing salt in a fresh open wound. The rest of the week you spent in your bed, only leaving for classes and a shower here and there. You had every intention to spend Saturday night rotting in bed, binging whatever reality TV show you could find. Unfortunately for you, Shoko and Utahime refused to let you miss Sukuna’s first big party of the year. You agreed reluctantly, deciding to drown your problems with alcohol and dancing.

Finding yourself feeling this awful after a Saturday night isn’t unheard of, finding yourself in a stranger's bed is the concerning part. You, Shoko and Utahime always manage to stumble your way home to the dorms no matter where you end up. Never once, in your three years of college, did you end up sleeping over. Your thoughts begin to race on who you will find sleeping next to you or what could have possibly gone on between the two of you. Judging from the hockey stick, you can only assume you are still at the house and slept with one of the hockey players. Hopefully not with Sukuna, you gag at the thought of that man. Whispering a silent prayer as you slowly turn your head over on the pillow to catch a glimpse of the other body in bed.

He lays on his stomach, head facing away from you, dark messy hair spilling over the pillow. His hair is slightly long, but nowhere near as long as Suguru's so that's one person off the list(though he was never really on that list). Sukuna has short cropped pink hair, so thank god that's another off the list of possibilities. The names of the other teammates escape you, really this could be any one of the guys. You silently wish you paid more attention when Suguru would talk about them, maybe then you could have placed a name to this body. You watch the rise and fall of the man's sleeping shirtless form, noting how well sculpted his back muscles are. He kind of reminded you of him , his body was also built by the gods.

The breakup is still fresh in your mind, only a week ago now. He went to a rival school, played for the rival team. You and Gojo went to one of the away games last year to support Suguru, unfortunately they lost to the second best team in the league. But that night you met him. He was an absolute power house on the ice, and later that night you found out he was a power house between the sheets too. The very same night you met him, he had you screaming out Toji in his bedroom.

Thinking back, he was really kinda a loser. He was a few years older than you but still in his senior year, and has been in his senior year for a while. He keeps failing one class or another and having to retake them. It was amazing that his hockey team let him play despite his bad grades. They likely pulled a few strings to keep him around considering how great he plays. You don't know how but you feel madly in love with him. Even with him being broke, with no goals, and your family hating him. He was a walking red flag, and you loved that.

The more you got to know him the more you liked him. Running off on exciting adventures together. The occasional date night out (that you had to pay for). You got to see his softer side, the part you know he only let you see. Every night spent together always ended up tangled between the sheets in one of your beds. No one could please you like he could.

Long distance can be hard though. His school was an hour from yours, you barely had time to see each other. Especially when he had hockey practice and you being so dedicated to your studies. You started to feel a strain on your relationship, like he was pulling away from you. So you decided to pay him a surprise visit, which was both a good and a bad idea now that you think about it.

You planned to stay the whole weekend, but in reality you were there barely an hour. The first half was spent fucking like wild animals, starved for eachother’s touch. As he climaxed, cock still throbbing inside you, he moaned out the name of another woman.

“Are you fucking shitting me!?” you pushed yourself abruptly off of him. Hurried to change and leave immediately. He tried to stop you, to talk you out of it, get you to stay. This snowballed into 30 minutes of yelling back and forth. The fight didn't end until a knock on the door interrupted you, and the girl who he moaned for was on the other side.“We are done, Toji!” you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

Never in your life has a man cheated on you. A whole year of your life, wasted on him. You felt humiliated. The past week you laid around feeling sorry for yourself, and now the first chance you get you're in a stranger's bed? You sigh and fumble around looking for your phone, needing to contact Shoko or Utahime for help. You find it on the floor next to the bed. Bending over to reach for it, fighting the queasiness you feel as you hang off the bed to pick it up. 13% battery, it never got plugged in overnight.

You: Hello??? Did you leave me?

You send the text to the group chat with your roommates, hoping one of them will be awake. Unlikely as it's barely 8am on a hungover Sunday morning. They probably feel just as awful as you do right now. You wait for their response, feeling stiff as a board in this stranger's bed. You need answers, and a thought crosses your mind to just wake the person sleeping next to you. Looking over, noticing how peaceful they look, you decide to let him rest just a little bit longer.

Your friends are taking their sweet time to reply, and your curiosity is getting to you. You open up Snapchat on your phone, maybe you can piece some answers together. You click through the pictures and videos posted on your story. The first few are just some pictures of you and your roommates, showing off your outfits for the night. You arrived in a cute black miniskirt and a crop top with your college's name on it. Those same clothes now sit in the corner of the room, traded for a giant black t-shirt on your body and loose sweatpants on your legs.

You snap a quick picture of yourself right now. Disheveled(though surprised that your face is clean of any makeup), a look of pain on your face. Making sure to angle the camera so the sleeping stranger is in the background. You circle him and type out who is this? Sending the image to Shoko, Utahime and Satoru.

Returning back to your snap story, you can tell the moment you blacked out. Random blurry pictures, captioned in all caps, spouting absolute gibberish. One is a picture of your middle finger along with the middle finger of a male hand with black nail polish. You can’t recall who’s hand this was. FUCK YOU TOJI , it’s captioned. And that was uploaded 5 times in a row. You quickly deleted all of these from your story, hoping to save you some embarrassment like half the school didn't already see it.

The last thing you have uploaded is a picture of Shoko, passed out on a couch clutching a beer can. Her face is covered in sharpie, drawings decorate every inch of her skin. You giggle and decide not to delete this one, even though you're sure she's going to kill you for this.

Your Snapchat wasn't much help in your quest for information, so you move on to looking through other’s stories. Shoko’s was also no help. Just a few cute pictures of the three of you and a picture of a cigarette with some moody quote. Utahime only has a video of you drawing on Shoko's face, both of you laughing so loud you're unsure how she stayed asleep. It wasn't until you looked through Satoru's story that you got some answers.

After going through what felt like a thousand pictures of him and Suguru, you see yourself. There you are, doing a keg stand. Your legs being held up by a muscular man with pigtails. You can't think of his name, but you know he is the prized goalie of Kaisen University. You have passed by him only a handful of times, never once spoken to him. Suguru mentioned he is most likely going pro after graduation. He always came off as quiet, an awkward goth type, but on the ice he was something else.

You tap the screen for the next thing. A video of you dancing wildly on the kitchen island. You cringe as you watch, your movements uncoordinated as arms flail around. Would you even call this dancing? Pigtails holds his hand up to you, you're sure he was trying to get you off the table before you fell and broke your neck. Though what happens next surprises you. Instead of safely taking his hand to get down, you leap at him. Thankfully, he catches you in his strong arms easily and lowers you down gently.

The next video is the worst one yet. You and the goalie making out, your hands gripped around his head, tongue forcing itself in his mouth. You were positive that you gave him the worst kiss of his life, or so you thought. The way his hands hold you against his body says differently. The video text said in bright pink what is bestie doing?? Why would Satoru even post this?

“I'm going to kill him” you groan, bringing your hands up to your face. Your palms heating up as color unfolds on your face, a nice shade of embarrassment red. The sheets of the bed crinkle and you look over and watch as your sleeping partner turns to face you. The first thing you recognize is the tattooed line over his nose. The same tattoo you know the pigtail goalie has, confirming to you that this is in fact his bed you're sharing. The second thing you notice are his large hands, chipped black nail polish on the tips. Lastly, you watch as his eyelids open. Dark brown irises meet you, flecks of gold dance where the sun hits it. He blinks a few times to adjust to the bright light. Dark purple circles surround his eyelids, like he hasn't slept in a year. His natural beauty leaves you speechless as you look into his eyes.

“You're awake” his deep raspy voice retorts, no emotion reflected in the words. You say nothing but nod. He sits up in the bed, back leaning against the old headboard, he rubs the corner of his eyes. You glance down at your phone to see if there was a message from any of your friends, but your heart drops as you see the black screen…dead. Weakly, you push yourself up to sit against the headboard like he is.

“How do you feel?” he asks suddenly, his burning gaze fixed on you.

“Awful” you admit truthfully. You see the hint of a small smirk on his lips before it fades just as quickly.

“I’m not surprised.” he pinches the skin between where his eyebrows meet. “I don't feel great either…probably nowhere near you though.” he grumbles. You suddenly feel your throat growing hotter and hotter. The fact that your memory is missing so many details from last night, you don't even know if you hooked up with him.

“Hey..” you whisper, not even sure if he heard you until his eye catches yours. “Last night…did we..” you trail off as you feel bile creeping up your throat, your eyes widen as you look around the room in a panic. Unsure of where the bathroom even is and if you would make it in time. The man next to you notices your panic, reaching over the side of the bed and producing a small metal waste bin. He places it in your lap and you instantly vomit the contents of your stomach, which looks to just be stomach acid and water at this point. Your retching echos off the walls of the metal can, tears stream from the corner of your eyes. The whole time, your sleepy partner rubs your back with a firm hand. Saying your name softly.

“I'm sorry…” you whisper, head still hanging into the metal can. “It’s not that you're not attractive, because you are. I-”

“No” he cuts you off. “We didn’t.” he assures you as he continues to soothe your back. “You wanted to…really wanted to. But I couldn't do that. I knew how drunk you really were.” You cough up some more liquid and groan. Once you feel like you have nothing left to spew, you set the can down on your side of the bed. He hands you a tissue and you use it to clean up your face.

“Thanks” you mutter, tossing the tissue into the bucket full of your vomit.

“It’s no problem…how much do you remember of last night?” he asks, face neutral.

“Not much at all” you close your eyes shut, thinking. “I remember arriving with Shoko and Utahime, doing some shots…everything is fuzzy after that. Honestly, I feel bad, because I can't even think of your name and you seem to know mine.” you try to search your mental records for what Suguru may have said about the goalie, trying to envision the back of his jersey you've spied at the games. “Is it…Kamo?” you ask eventually. He nods.

“Well…Kamo is my last name. You can call me by my first name, Choso.”

“Choso. It’s nice to meet you, I promise to remember your name this time” you laugh awkwardly.

“You better not forget me again” he laughs softly.

“So…Choso. Can you help fill me in the blanks? Did my friends leave me? How did I end up here in your bed?” You blush slightly, thinking back to the video Satoru posted of you sticking your tongue down Choso's throat. Hoping he won't remember that part. He nods and begins to recount the adventures of last night.

⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .⋆⁺₊❅.⛸️. ݁˖ .

He isn't quite sure what happened before you started hanging out with him. Though he heard rumors from others that, because you refused to call the house ‘Sukuna's Domain’, Sukuna decided to punish you by making you drink 3 of the most disgusting shots he could concoct. Of course, you wouldn't back down to the challenge and finished them all without hesitation.

Choso didn't plan on leaving his room to join the party, he was working on finishing a project for his advanced biology class due on Monday. With hockey season coming to a start, it's been hard for him to stay focused on his classes and practices. He was enjoying his peaceful night alone and was almost done with his project when you barged into his room unannounced.

“Oh…this isn't the bathroom” you looked around his room confused, head spinning. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“No, the bathroom is across the hall from me.” He turned back to his laptop on his desk, assuming you left. The creek of his bed told him otherwise. He looked back to see you sprawled out like a starfish.

“Um…didn't you need to use the bathroom?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No…that was a lie” you sighed. “I just needed to escape for a minute. Everyone keeps asking about my ex.” You stare up at the ceiling, it was clear to him that you were upset.

“You can hide out here if you want” he offered, once again turning back to his work. He was typing the final paragraph of his report when your hands wrapped around his forearm.

“Come oooon!” You begged, pulling his arm away from the keboard. He gave you a confused look. “Let's go party! Come hang out with me” you stick your bottom lip out in a pout, batting your lashes at him.

“I'm busy” He tried to tell you, but you continued to beg. You wouldn't give up, so he rolled his eyes and shut his laptop. Jumping around his room excitedly, you led him out of his bedroom and downstairs to the party.

The rest of the night the two of you were glued at the hip. You were able to get him to let loose, danced with him even. You two did more shots together, something he regretted after learning how much you already had and how little you had eaten that day. He even helped you with drawing on Shoko's face after she passed out. Thinking back to the picture you took of her poor doodled on face, you remember seeing a thick black line drawn over her nose, one that matched Choso's. His own artistry you guess.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“And we…uh…kissed” He scratched the back of his head shyly, looking away to avoid your gaze for a second.

“It was more than just a kiss.” You correct him. “Satoru posted a video…it was a full on make out session in front of the whole party” your face heats up at the memory. He nods in agreement.

“I'm sorry…drunk me sounds like a menace” you groan again. Reliving all the embarrassment over and over. A cringe movie that won’t fade to black.

“It's fine, really. And from what I remember, it was a good kiss despite how drunk we both were” He flashes a slight smile at you.

“Soo…what happened after?” You ask.

“That's when you drunkenly dragged me back up to my room to continue. And…” he stopped for a moment.

“and??” you plead him to continue.

“and the second we made it to the top of the stairs, you threw up all over yourself… and me” you're not even sure what kind of face he is making now because you buried your head in your hands. Wishing you could just crawl away and never have to face him or this embarrassment again.

“Then I sat in the bathroom with you for an hour while you puked your guts out, and I gave you a spare change of clothes and helped clean you up. Once I was sure you were done and exhausted, I laid you down in my bed.” He continues.

“And my friends?” you ask, head still hidden in your hands.

“They got an Uber home. Satoru wasn't sure if you would have been able to stomach the ride back to campus so they decided to let you stay where you were. Utahime wasn't too happy about it, but Suguru vouched for me. I was going to go downstairs and sleep on the couch but I wanted to keep an eye on you. That was…a lot of puke” he speaks in an even tone, free of any judgment as he recounts the night. You lift your head from your hands and look at him.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” You whisper softly. “And sorry for being such a pain in the ass”

“It was nothing” he assures you. He pulls the covers of the blanket back and swings his legs out onto the floor. Pacing over to his desk and pulling out a generic pill bottle from one of the drawers. He shakes two into his palm and comes back to you, holding his fist out. “for your head, I can tell it's killing you right now.” You hold an outstretched palm out to him, graciously accepting the medicine. Washing it down with the now lukewarm glass of water sitting on the nightstand.

“Thanks again,” you whisper. He says nothing, just a polite nod in return. You peel the blankets off yourself, forcing yourself out of the warmth of his bed. Bare feet touching the cold floor, a chill running all the way up your spine. You gather any strength you have left and stand. “Guess I should get going, can I use your phone to order an uber?” you ask him.

“No need, I can drive you back to the dorms.” it's more of a statement than an offer.

“You really don't have to…”

“I was going there anyway, I wanted to hit the gym on campus. So I'm heading back there with or without you.” He crosses his arms as he waits for you to accept the offer.

“Okay” you sigh. “Let's get going, I want to lay down in my own bed.” You walk over to the heap of clothing you wore last night, looking around for something to take them home in. The clothes look wet, like maybe Choso rinsed them off after you changed last night. “Do you have a plastic bag or something?” You ask.

“Don't worry about it” he shakes his head. “Just wear my clothes home and I'll get those cleaned up for you. I'll find a way to get it back to you eventually.” He shrugs as if this is the most normal thing in the world for him. You stare, completely bewildered by this man.

“But it’s…gross” you object, a small frown on your lips. Letting him clean the vomit from your clothing just feels…wrong.

“And watching it spew from your mouth all night wasn't gross?” He lets out a slight laugh. “Seriously, It's fine. I used to take care of my little brothers all the time. This is nothing for me.” His words do nothing to help ease the embarrassment churning inside, but you leave them. At this point you could care less if the clothes made their way back to you, they will serve as nothing more than a sour reminder of this night.

He pulls on a tight black shirt, a gray hoodie and slings his gym bag over his shoulder, heading toward the door.

“You comin’?” he calls over his shoulder. You quickly grab your dead phone from the nightstand and shove it into the pockets of the loose sweatpants before scurrying behind him. Once he sees you ready, he leads the way back down stairs.

You take in the scene on the lower floor. Several men from the hockey team sleeping in various uncomfortable positions. Some curled up on the floor, one with his head pressed to the table, a beer still in his grasp. Red solo cups litter the ground, empty cans piled against the corner of a wall, liquor bottles empty on the counter. The whole place looked sticky. You slip your shoes on, being careful of where you step.

“Oh…my purse” you look around panicked, unable to remember the last time you had it. You could have left it anywhere in this house. Choso glances over and studies your worried face, his own looking nothing more than uninterested.

“What does it look like?” He asks.

“Black, this big, gold chain straps” you describe using exaggerated hand motions.

“I'll look for it” he whispers and walks over toward the kitchen. You lean against the wall and watch him through heavy lids as he struggles to find it. He checks another room on the lower level, and then the bathroom. When he emerges you notice his empty hands as he shakes his head in defeat. The stairs above you creak loudly and you lift your head and watch a familiar pink haired annoyance making his way to you, in his hands the missing purse.

“You left this in the bathroom idiot” Sukuna rolls his eyes before tossing it to you, which you completely miss and let it clunk to the floor. The chain clattering loudly as it falls against the wood, waking up one of the sleeping hockey players in the living room who curses at the noise.

“So you stole it?” You raise an eyebrow at him, Choso bends over to pick it up for you. You can't help but search through it, triple checking all of your belongings where you left it. Wallet, credit cards, your favorite lip gloss. Everything was safe.

“No, I didn't steal it! You left it out in the open for anyone to take. So I just put it away for safekeeping.” He grumbles in response.

“That's…actually really nice Sukuna…thanks” you blink in surprise.

“Whatever. Hope you and Kamo had a good night.” He crosses his arms and leans on the weak railing, wood groaning under his weight. You notice Choso scowl at him, his eyes a silent warning.

“No thanks to you” you bark back, knowing Sukuna is the sole reason you feel the way you do right now. If it wasn't for those shots, you would have made it home to the warmth of your own bed. You glance over at Choso, who is still scowling. Without those shots you also might not have met him.

“Whatever brat, you had fun” Sukuna sighs, pushing off of the railing and heading back to his room upstairs. His arms still crossed.

“Let's get going” Choso’s stern voice brings you back to reality. You nod and follow him outside. The breeze rustles a few crisp golden leaves. A slight chill runs through your spine, your body shivering. Hugging your arms close to your chest, you follow Choso toward a black car, rust lining the edges. He throws his gym bag into the back seat then turns to look at you.

“You're cold” he observes plainly.

“I'll be fine” your chattering teeth betray you. He slips his hoodie off and holds it out to you. The muscles in his bare forearm bulge as he waits for you to take it from him.

“It's fine, really” you protest but he shakes his head, refusing to move from his spot until you accept his gift. So you snatch it out from his grasp, quickly slipping it over your freezing body and letting the residual warmth he left heat you up.

The ride back to the dorms was quiet, and painfully long. Neither of you spoke, not because you didn't want to but because the ride was anything but smooth sailing. Every bump causes your stomach to stir, fearful that opening your mouth in the slightest will cause you to mess up the interior of his car. To protect yourself, and the car, you pressed your forehead against the cold window of the passenger door, eyes shut tightly.

The car comes to a steady stop and you peel open your eyes once again, the sight of your dorm unfolds in your fuzzy vision. You pull on the door handle, ready to run into the safety of the dorm and yell at Shoko and Utahime for letting you ever get that drunk in the first place. The door doesn't budge, still locked. You glance over at Choso whose eyes are fixed on a small black and white cat across the street, acting like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hey, Y/N… I know we kinda only just met, and you're going through something rough right now. But I like to think I'm a good listener, if you ever need someone to talk to” his eyes continue to look out the window as he speaks sincerely.

“Thanks Choso.” You whisper out. “I appreciate that.” He turns to look at you again, his normal bored expression replaced with a slightly shy one. His eyes darting around, not sure where to focus, fingers fidgeting on the steering wheel.

“I had a great time last night. I hope to see you around again” he gives you a small awkward smile as his eyes meet yours. He reaches over you and pushes hard on your door handle. His still messy hair tickling under his nose, getting a whiff of vanilla and cloves. “Sorry, old car. It gets stuck sometimes” He laughs lightly as he pushes the door open. You exit the car and turn back toward him.

“Thanks for everything, see you soon.” You smile sweetly before closing the door and heading toward the entrance of your dorm.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :) comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶

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lovesickeros · 9 days ago

Text

☆ choir of the faithless

{☆} characters venti, kaeya, the abyss {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings violence (minor) {☆} word count 2.7k

One moment, you lay wistlessly in your bed, head full of fleeting thoughts and ideas you bounced around internally. You were moment away from falling asleep, the draw of exhaustion unraveling the threads of your mind, pulling you apart and weaving your thoughts into the fathomless depths of a boundless dream.

The next you conclude that is exactly where you must be – blinking rapidly against the bright sun that bears down upon you through the massive branches and array of thousands of leaves swaying above you. It can only be a dream because you know those roots, those winding branches and the soothing song of wind chimes as leaves rustle and sway in the invisible path of the wind. It feels too real, but don't many dreams? You reach your hand sluggishly skyward, imagining the feeling of touching those leaves so high above, admiring the way light fractures as it passes through the tree so massive it blots out the sky above you. You'd have to crane your neck just to catch a proper glimpse of solemn blue past the swaying ocean of vivid greens.

It's beautiful.

It's familiar in the way home is. That warmth that settles in your chest, the solemn, quiet moments between. You've spent hours staring up at this tree, both your first steps and your last, simply admiring it all for what fleeting moments you can cling to.

You've played the game long enough – strayed towards its familiar branches at they reach towards the heavens – to recognize Windrise at even a passing glance. The perfect portrait of Mondstadt – the massive oak at the center, the statue of the seven with its hands outstretched and its wings curled protectively around itself..a memory of something you've seen a hundred thousand times, lingering like a ghost amongst its branches and roots, clinging to its familiarity. Maybe Mondstadt isn't the most complex, or gorgeous, or detailed..but it was the first stepping stone to the world of Teyvat you knew. It was the beginning of the Travelers journey and your own – the first, hesitant step into a game you'd learned to love.

You might as well enjoy it might it lasts, right?

This tumultuous, fragile dream of yours.

You sit up with no small amount of hesitancy, taking in the rolling, distant hills and far away cliffs. Mondstadt isn't that far – far enough that it bleeds into the scenery, but you feel that pang of fragile familiarity seeing it in the distance anyway. In contrast to its nation, Mondstadt stood like a towering beacon of stability, stark grey against the ever expanding hues of green and blue, a symbol of tranquility among the monster-laden lands beyond its walls. You still come by once and a while, whether or not it's your favorite place to linger – if only to reminisce and ponder the countless hours you've sunk into the game. To take a moment and admire the nation that had slowly dragged you into loving the world you've become so familiar with, to truly take a moment and process your endless journey further, deeper, into the mystery of Teyvat as it slowly unraveled like a spool of thread.

It felt almost real. The grass beneath you, the wind rustling the leaves and swirling around you, the warmth of the distant sun as it stood unwavering at its peak – but it was a dream. Vivid, maybe, but still a dream.

You didn't want to wake up from it, though.

It'd be nice to stay here for a little longer, to be able to wander past these fragile barriers of the world around you – but would you wake if you longed to see those distant horizons? Would you even remember this dream? Maybe not.

But the endless urge to explore – to see and truly experience that distant, familiar visage for yourself – was calling. A craving to run your hand along towering stone walls, to trace the intricate lines of the alchemy table you'd used hundreds of times, to get lost in the endless books tucked away in the library..a longing that you could never fulfill.

But you'd try anyway, wouldn't you?

You'd make the most of this fleeting dream – stumbling like a newborn fawn after seelies, watching from hidden perches as the occasional cart rolled by on dirt roads, observing the distant hilichurl with a look of solemn understanding. Re-familiarizing yourself with the paths you'd traveled hundreds of times, treading along the same, curious line you'd taken the Traveler.

Maybe it was just an aspect of the dream, but the wildlife didn't run away like it did in the game – the wild boars startled when you approached, but they'd settle down and continue their idle grazing before long. The occasional crystalfly fluttered to your outstretched hands like a moth to flame, the cool, subtle touch of anemo against your skin like a soft breeze, ephemeral and fleeting.

Even the squirrels did not flee at your boundless curiosity – it is as if you are a ghost, perhaps, wandering these wide spanning plains in search of..well, you aren't sure. You let your feet guide you, just like you used to. There is charm in the aimless exploration, a sort of comfort in wandering and observing the world through new eyes.

Perhaps you should've taken more caution when you reached Mondstadt itself – a dream was a fragile thing, after all..there was no telling when a dream could meld into a nightmare. But you were in the nation of freedom, who could blame you for throwing caution to the wind?

Uncertain as your steps across the bridge were, it was tranquil – ducks skimmed beneath the bridge, fish dotted the serene surface, clear waters rippling with their movements. There was something about it all that felt more alive. It felt more real, for a moment, but what an absurd thought that must be.

A dream is no more real than Teyvat.

And at the gates of the city, at last, you feel relief – the eyes of NPCs glide over you like water over the back of a swan, allowing you to simply step past them without even an utterance of a question. Up close, with your own eyes to guide you, Mondstadt is more alive than it's ever been. The people converse and laugh and breathe – the small details you'd miss looking through the limited frame of the Traveler peek through, now.

You get so lost in admiring it all you almost trip over a cat that strays near your feet, rubbing against your ankles. Your hand twitches, as if to reach down and pet it, to feel it's fur beneath your palm – but the small voice that flows from the tavern stalls you in your tracks. You don't have to turn around to know who it is, you've heard her voice enough times to recognize it – and, really, you'd rather not get caught up in the logistics of interacting with the characters in a dream at the moment. It's not like they can see you, besides. Everyone else didn't even seem to know you were there at all.

And you were here to explore, first. You could test the limits of the dream later, once you're satisfied you've seen it all.

You sidestep the cat – as much as it pains you to ignore it, you really don't know how much time you're afforded in this dream – and take up wandering undeterred. Maybe you'll check out the library, next..you only read a measly fraction of the books there, after all, and the wonder of something new is a tempting lure. Maybe if you get the chance, you'll seek out your favorite character – even if the dream ends there, it'll at least dampen the disappointment when you awake in your own bed again.

Mondstadt is still relatively small, despite seeming so much bigger – by the time you're slinking into the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, your legs are aching from all the walking. Even if you don't find anything too interesting here, well, you'll take sitting down for a moment to catch your breath at least.

The game made it seem so easy to get from Windrise to the city, but your legs practically putty when you peered into the library with a healthy amount of caution – it's not like anyone has even glanced your way since you woke up in this dream, but you knew not to test it around Lisa and her books..

Even if it was a dream, waking up because you got electrocuted by a pissed off librarian didn't sound very appealing.

Especially because, along the way, you'd become the perch for a handful of anemo crystalflies. You'd almost forgotten some linger on the rooftops until now..well, they seemed content to just rest on your limbs, and it's not like they weighed much if anything. It'd probably be fine – how much harm could a crystalfly cause?

The steps down into the lower level of the library creaked slightly as you slowly took in the grandiose room, trying to glimpse some semblance of familiarity amongst the hundreds of book covers nestled into the shelves. Maybe having a reference of just ten or twenty books wasn't exactly the most extensive list – you could barely even remember what books you mindlessly picked up chasing glittering spots like a moth chases the flickering flame.

Maybe you'll see Venti's statue, next – it was impressive enough in game, you could only imagine how it looks in person, how the smooth stone feels beneath your fingertips.

For now, you scour the rows and rows of book, gleaning the contents of the books from the assorted covers and titles so foreign to you. You recognize a scarce few, those you picked up on your first, brisk walk through the library scouring for treasure just to be disappointed at the lack of it. These days you're just happy to bask in the atmosphere and reminisce here – unless you're dragging your feet to do your Theater for the month. Not a lot of room for reminiscing when you're busy fighting for your life to finish on time.

Still, you're almost half disappointed there hasn't been many playable characters around..sure, maybe they'd just ignore you like the other NPCs, but it'd still be nice to see them. If Dawn Winery wasn't so far away, you'd consider dropping by, just to see, but..well, you've hiked long enough, personally.

Though as much as you'd like to busy yourself in the library, you do want to make the most of your time, too. You don't pay much attention to the patter of footsteps as you ascend the stairs and awkwardly step past the guard outside the library, the brief blur of reds and blues in the corner of your eyes gone before you can truly see its source. Well, there's more to see anyway – the cathedral was impressive enough when you first saw it in game, you can only imagine it's magnificence now.

All the stairs definitely feels worse now that you can't just haul yourself up a wall like in game, though. Maybe it would've been better to rest a bit more in the library, but you really didn't want to waste this chance..how often did you really have this much control over a dream, anyway? You feel lucky it hadn't turned into a nightmare.

And it was more than worth it when you crested the top of the stairs, the wind rushing past you for a brief moment and almost making you stumble as your eyes flit towards the towering stone you'd known so well. Hands outstretched and draped in robes, looking all the Archon they are..well, it was a lot more detailed like this. The lull of music doesn't escape you, either – because of course they'd be strumming that lyre beneath their own statue. Playing to an audience who knows not the bard that plays a melody of their own triumphs. The same bard who commands the wind as if an extension of themself, their voice the chimes that sing in tune with its winding paths, free and true.

Even if you've never heard the song they play before, it leaves a warm feeling in your chest – a homesickness, maybe, for a place you've never even been to. A longing for the world made up of lines of code and pixels on a screen. Endless yearning for a world not your own – a place you don't belong.

Poetic, isn't it?

Fitting, seeing as your audience is a bard who loves to tempt another into a riddle of their own, their silver tongue used for mischief rather than malice.

It wouldn't be so bad if you woke up now, you think. Lulled back to reality by the gentle strum of a lyre and the sweeping winds.

A reality all your own.

The harsh twang of a lyre brings you out of your aimless reverie, eyes of the teal ocean meeting your own in a moment of startling clarity. You are almost tempted to look behind you, for they must be perceiving another – but the empty, hollow thud of the lyre hitting the cobbled ground is like a bullet to the chest.

Beneath the shrouded eyes of an Archon, the wind coils into a tightly wound bolt that sings with danger, the draw of a string making your blood run cold and your instincts flare up.

Before you could even process the fact they'd just drawn a bow – the bow you had given them – the pillar of the corridor shattered like glass beneath the force of an elemental arrow, rubble dusting the cobblestone and dragging you out of your horrified stupor. If it hadn't been between the two of you, you can only dread to imagine what an arrow that pulverized rock would do to you.

There's a knot in your stomach as you turn to pace right back down the stairs, but you stutter at the sharp glint of metal and familiar blue hair that stands frozen mid-step – for a moment you can't even register any of this, your mind refuses to accept the stark, bleeding truth right in front of you, but the shrill sound of anemo forces you to make a choice. You only hesitate for a moment before throwing yourself over the edge of the wall, nearly choking on your saliva when you hit the ground – it was farther than you remember, but when your other choice is a blade and an arrow, you're thankful you haven't broken anything yet as you stumble to your feet.

Why haven't you waken up yet? You don't want to be in this dream anymore – you don't want anything to do with the nightmare it's become. Just seeing their faces, familiar and once so calm and warm, contrasted with the sharp edge of danger made you want to be sick.

Water – water will wake you up, right? That always works. Your feet slip on the dirt, struggling to gain purchase, forcing yourself to rush towards the cliffs edge – you have to repeat that it's just a dream like a mantra just to keep yourself calm when you look down, the lapping waves and jagged rocks making you almost reconsider. Not that you get the chance, really, when the wood of the tree beside you is splintered so violently you can feel them digging into your skin.

You don't even realize you've lost your footing until the edge of the cliff gives beneath your heel, air rushing around you and forcing what little breath was left in your lungs out violently. Your vision blurs into a collage of blue and grey, the sky above and the side of the cliff you find yourself falling from flooding your vision – you have to trust you'll simply wake up in your bed once you hit the water. You have to.

You don't want to imagine what it would mean if you didn't.

It's just a dream – all of it is just a dream, no. a nightmare.

And as the water parts from the impact of your body against the surface, it drags you down like an anchor weighed against your chest. Your vision bleeds into white, a chill enveloping your limbs until you feel numb – dead, probably. You must be dead. You died and you plead that you wake up back at home, exhaling whatever breath you had left, cold stinging your throat like shards of glass.

Anchored weightlessly in frigid cold, blinded by stark white, your fleeting thoughts are silenced as your consciousness flickers in and out, lingering long enough only to hear the murmur of a raspy, unearthly voice.

"I believe the experiment can be considered a success, Princess."

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breelandwalker · 29 days ago

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Cold Moon - December 14-15 2024

Bundle up, witches! It’s time for the Cold Moon!

Cold Moon

The Cold Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of December. This will be another month when the moon appears full for two nights in a row, so we’ll have a nice bright full moon in the sky for the 14th and the 15th, with peak illumination on Dec 15th at 4:02am EST.

Like most full moon names, the Cold Moon takes its’ moniker from an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups. There are a number of indigenous names that reference the wintry conditions when this moon occurs, including Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee), Winter Moon (Tunica-Biloxi), Hoar Frost Moon (Cree), and Long Night Moon (Mohican). More evocative names include Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree) and Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala), both of which refer to a phenomenon which occurs during extreme cold, when the sap inside a tree freezes and the expanding pressure causes portions of the bark or even entire limbs to “pop” with loud cracking sounds that can be heard for miles.

Other names for the December moon include Yule Moon (Norse origins), Oak Moon (Celtic origins), and Bitter Moon (Chinese origins).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The year is winding down. It’s time to wrap up our projects and put aside what we haven’t finished or no longer need. Rather than berating ourselves for the things we didn’t finish or didn’t accomplish, this is a time to give ourselves some grace and celebrate our successes and triumphs and the things we DID accomplish.

With only one page left on the calendar, many of us are already looking ahead to the new year, making plans and setting goals. This is a good time to brainstorm and engage in a bit of broad-view planning. Sketch out the things you’d like to see or do or try in the new year. Give voice to your dreams and start thinking of ways to make them happen.

The Cold Moon also falls shortly before the winter solstice this year (Dec 21), which could be a boon for anyone looking to time their seasonal rituals in optimal fashion. A working could be begun on the full moon and built up to culminate on the solstice, or whichever post-moon December date has special meaning to you and your practice.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Have a small supper gathering with friends or family (holiday themed or not, it’s up to you) to share joys and fellowship and enjoy good food and drink. Make wishes together for the new year. (Wish jars can be done individually or as an informal group ritual. Sharing wishes anonymously can be a fun party game.) A “White Elephant” gift exchange or swap meet with inexpensive or homemade witchy goods for your circle could be fun too!

Make a wish jar for the new year and put it out to charge under the Cold Moon. Cleanse any of your tools or crystals or accoutrements that you use moonlight for one more time this year.

This is the perfect time for divinations and goalsetting for the coming year. Pull out your favorite divination tools and your new planner and sketch out the coming year. You can also try candle wax divination with holiday candles, if that’s something that interests you.

Also, save those seasonal bayberry candles for future use! They’re great for debt repayment and money-drawing spells.

If you need some ideas for a fun family activity, you can feed the birds for good luck, either with scattered birdseed or pinecone birdfeeders. String dried fruit slices, cinnamon sticks, pinecones, holly leaves and berries, and other seasonal faves to make garlands. Stick apples or oranges or clementines full of cloves in pretty patterns to make pomanders.

Use those fibre arts skills to create a special piece to keep your home warm and safe and well-supplied until spring. It doesn’t have to be anything big - a simple weaving or single square will do. Crochet or cut out snowflakes for your home decor. If you want to get fancy, pick up a ball of cotton warp thread and look for old doily patterns - they look great as hoop weavings hung on the wall (or make a witch web in winter colors).

Make one more batch of moonwater to carry you through to the new year. If it happens to snow or freeze where you live, you can save clean snow or icicles for special (non-drinkable) elemental water, which can be a fun base for moonwater as well.

And speaking of elements, make sure to remember in all your seasonal decorating that fire safety is paramount. Be careful with your candles, warmers, light strings, plugs, extension cords, and cables. DO NOT “daisy chain” your extension cords or power strips. Never leave candles or wax warmers or simmer pots unattended, and turn off your holiday lights before bedtime. Safety first, witches!

Thanks for joining me for this exploration of full moon magic. See you next year!

Happy Cold Moon, witches! 🌕🧊

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Secular Celebration Suggestions for Yule

Moon Rise Calculator - The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Cold Moon: Full Moon in December 2024, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

December Full Moon 2024: Cold Moon’s Epic Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

How Do Trees Survive The Winter?, National Forest Foundation.

How to Make Pomander Balls, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Fun Kid’s Activity: Winter Pinecone Bird Feeder, Audubon Southwest.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #witch tips #full moon #cold moon #moon magic #lunar magic #lunar calendar

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peachdues · 1 year ago

Text

SEASONS IN LOVE (PART II)

Sanemi x F!Reader (modern college AU)

Sanemi meets Y/N in January and isn't a fan. As the seasons pass by, their evolving relationship becomes defined by a handful snapshots from the various holidays throughout the year.

CW: modern college AU • 6.6k words • tooth-rotting fluff • college typical drinking and debauchery • some mildly suggestive content • Sanemi is a massive simp

PART ONE HERE

December 24th – Christmas Eve.

Sanemi was hunched over, back turned against the icy wind that threatened to shred through the layers of his coat and sweater, as he waited for someone to answer the door.

A few weeks ago, he would’ve said to anyone that he hadn’t minded the snow — after all, the snow is what led to Y/N smiling — at him, no less — for the first time since he’d met her, and that memory had been more that enough to keep him warm through the fall of every snowflake coating the earth.

He took it all back. Y/N’s smile was a damn pretty sight, but absolutely nothing could insulate him against the near sub-arctic winds that cut through him like a knife as he shifted impatiently from foot to foot on the Kanroji’s front porch.

“God dammit, Mitsuri,” he growled. He unwound a stiff arm from where it’d been tightly tucked against his chest, prepared to start pounding against the oak of her parents’ front door, when the pink party host threw it open, her smile bright and cheerful and warm in a way that Sanemi was not.

“It’s about time!” She chirped, standing aside to let her scowling friend through and into the front entryway of her home.

Mitsuri held her hand out as she waited for Sanemi to pass her his coat. “Everyone else is here already — help yourself to any snacks you want.” Mitsuri snatched the gift-wrapped package lodged under his arm before he could say anything. “I’ll take this,” she waved it, nose crinkling with amusement at Sanemi’s indignant glare. “And I’ll put it with the others!”

Before he could respond, his pink-haired friend traipsed away back to the open floor plan of her living room and kitchen, leaving Sanemi to brush the snowflakes that had gathered on his trousers and remove his boots and leave them with the others’ scattered by the closet of Mitsuri’s parents’ home.

Every year, the bubbly and exuberant pinkette hosted a Christmas Eve for her friends at her parents’ complete with an absurd array of holiday-themed snacks, games, and Secret Santa.

In years past, Sanemi only ever deigned to show up as a courtesy to his friend, eagerly awaiting the day when he could blame needing to take care of his siblings on Christmas Eve as an excuse not to go. After his family had been killed, however, Sanemi had begun spending the Christmas holidays with Kyojuro’s family, along with Tengen, and so, he’d been forced to continue the tradition, given the enthusiasm his flame-haired best friend had for the over-the-top celebration.

This year, however, was Y/N’s first time attending Mitsuri’s annual fete; and curiously, Sanemi found himself growing more and more excited as the time for the celebration drew nearer.

That excitement only bubbled in his gut as he padded towards the Kanroji’s packed living room, eyes scanning for the sight of the one he was most eager — and anxious — to see.

Y/N spotted him from her position on one of the overstuffed leather armrests by the fireplace and shot out of her seat, nearly toppling Shinobu in the process.

“You made it!” Her smile was blazing, a now permanent fixture on her face that Sanemi found himself sneaking furtive glances at throughout the day, afraid that he would miss it.

“Wait,” Y/N stopped an arm’s length from him as she ran her eyes over his form. “Are we matching?”

Sanemi looked down at the outfit he had thrown on (carefully selected) prior to leaving his apartment and back to the amused woman before him. She was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, tucked into a pair of belted, vintage, loose jeans that she had cuffed to show her festive Christmas socks.

“Just the turtleneck. I don’t do jeans.” Sanemi snorted, flicking her nose affectionately.

Y/N, however, looked better than he. Her hair was loosely secured with a clip at her neck, and she wore no accessories save for a pair of oversized gold framed glasses that she claimed were to help with blue light strains, but Sanemi was convinced she just liked wearing them for fun.

He tried very hard not to stare too long at her full lips — painted a bright, festive red that Sanemi found he really liked.

“I should’ve brought my lipstick along, then we could’ve really twinned,” Y/N’s eyes were alight with her mirth as she teased him.

Had Sanemi been a tad bolder, he would’ve cheekily suggested another way he could get her lipstick on his mouth, but he wasn’t, so all he could do was grumble, a faint red staining his cheeks.

Mitsuri clapped loudly over the chattering group. “Friends! Dearly beloveds! Snacks are over there,” she pointed to a long table packed heavy with various holiday goodies. “And the hot chocolate bar is open! Get a snack and get settled before secret Santa!”

“When you say ‘bar,’ ‘Suri,” Tengen prodded.

The pinkette nodded solemnly. “Yes, you can make spiked hot chocolate, Tengen.”

The flashy, silver-haired man let out a whoop for joy as he made a beeline for the hot chocolate bar carefully organized by their pink-haired host. Before long, Tengen had blessed each of their drinks with a healthy splash of Irish cream, though Sanemi suspected the loudmouth’s own mug was nothing but the festive liquor.

“Nope,” Sanemi fought to keep the grimace off his face as he took a swig of his hot chocolate, the bitter burn of alcohol making him pucker. “Giyuu, drink this — it’s plain.”

The quiet, raven-haired man gratefully accepted the steaming mug from his friend and took a hearty gulp of it, frowning slightly when he realized Sanemi had indeed given him his own spiked drink.

Sanemi pretended to look affronted at Giyuu’s accusatory stare. “What? I thought you’d need it — aren’t you going home to Kocho’s after this?”

Giyuu considered Sanemi’s words for a moment before tipping his head back and swallowing the remainder of the mug’s contents.

Y/N came prancing over from the kitchen, her own mug of hot chocolate cupped between her hands, to where Sanemi now sat on the large sofa, but before she could sit down, Gyomei plopped down, nearly crushing her in the process.

“Apologies, Y/N,” the gentle giant said upon hearing Y/N’s squeak. “I didn’t realize you wanted to sit beside Sanemi.”

If Sanemi hadn’t known better, he would’ve sworn that was a blush spreading across her cheeks. “No worries!” She chirped, twisting around awkwardly to find a new spot.

Sanemi grimaced. He was about to tell her to sit on the arm rest of the sofa next to him, but Shinobu called her over first, the two girls squeezing into a single-person armchair, as Shinobu threw her legs over Y/N’s lap to make room.

Secret Santa proceeded without much fuss. Sanemi was happy to receive a box of high-quality matcha from his anonymous gift-giver, though Shinobu’s lack of a poker face gave away who’d gifted it. Sanemi winked at his tiny friend, clutching the tea box tightly to his chest.

Y/N was practically buzzing with excitement. Mitsuri had hardly discerned the name scrawled on the tag of her giftbox before she’d lunged forward, nearly toppling Shinobu out of her lap.

“My turn!” The expression on Y/N’s face was that of a greedy child’s as she wriggled her fingers demandingly at Mitsuri in anticipation of her present.

The pinkette dropped the heavy box into her friend’s eager hands, Y/N giving a small oomph! against the weight of the gift.

Sanemi watched his best friend tear into her present with vigor, similar to the way a hyena tore into its prey, tufts of wrapping paper floating down beside her as she beheld the grocery store box within.

“What the—?” Y/N’s eyebrows were drawn together as she turned the container over in her hands, eyes squinting as she read the label printed on the cardboard.

“No fucking way,” Her eyes blew wide as she held the box closer to her face in disbelief. “No fucking way!”

Y/N’s laugh bordered on maniacal as she clapped her hands, ripping into the cardboard as she produced one, fat candy bar, wrapped in unfamiliar purple foil.

“My chocolate!” She crowed, dumping the contents of the box out onto her lap. A dozen large, heavy candy bars thudded to the floor, the packaging on each bearing some foreign language and description. “I can’t believe my Secret Santa found them!”

Sanemi smirked quietly to himself. Sure, he’d rigged the Secret Santa pool to ensure that he magically drew Y/N’s name from the hat full of paper Mitsuri had passed around at their weekly dinner a few weeks prior, but he’d only done it because he’d already ordered Y/N’s Christmas gift from overseas.

For ages, she’d not shut up about a particular kind of chocolate that she’d had while abroad with her family one summer. Y/N had moaned to everyone that chocolate at home just didn’t taste the same, and she longed to have just one more taste of the candy she’d come to love while on holiday, though she hadn’t been able to track it down online.

But Sanemi had; he’d found a website that put him in contact with a local, who then used his bank information to clear out an entire grocery store’s supply of the confectionary. It was risky, but he was a man in love, so what else could he do but chance it?

“Over my dead fucking body —“ Y/N threatened, as Mitsuri tried to snatch a bar from her hand.

As Sanemi sat there, smugly sipping his non-spiked hot chocolate, he mused that the look of pure glee on Y/N’s face was well worth his account getting hacked not even a week after his order arrived.

—————————————————————————

The Christmas Eve party continued until the late afternoon, at which point the group of friends began to help their host clean up the discarded snacks and empty mugs of hot chocolate before each of them set off for their respective homes for the night.

Y/N was the only one in their group who had to take a train back to her parents’, her hometown being over three hours away from campus, and so, she was the first who had to leave the merry fete.

Sanemi had offered to drive Y/N the forty-minute trip to the train station so she wouldn’t be stuck paying for an Uber, and truthfully, he was glad to have nearly an hour of uninterrupted time with her before she went home for the week.

“Ready?” He asked her as he looped his wool scarf over his head, bracing himself to be smacked in the face by the icy wind that howled outside the warmth of the Kanroji house.

Y/N finished tugging on a pair of gloves before sliding into her emerald green wool coat. “One sec!”

Y/N darted back to the living room where their other friends exchanged goodbyes and flung her arms around her pink-haired best friend’s neck.

From where he stood near the Kanroji doorway, Sanemi could see the pinkette whisper a few words of encouragement into Y/N’s ear, her face uncharacteristically serious as she squeezed her best friend one more time. Sanemi knew that Mitsuri had been comforting Y/N leading up to her first holiday season at home since her brother died, and he felt a rush of gratitude for the girl as he saw Y/N’s shoulders visibly relax under the warmth of her words.

Y/N returned, her eyes sparkling with unshed emotion that she quickly tried to wipe with her gloved hands. “I’m ready!” She said thickly, plastering a smile on her face.

Sanemi sighed, but slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into his side before releasing her. Y/N nodded in gratitude, sniffing once, before wrenching the front door of the Kanroji house open, allowing the icy winds beyond to whip across their faces.

The drive to the train station was uneventful, though Y/N had been sure to provide him with “entertainment” by singing loudly, off-key, to every Christmas song that crackled over the ancient speakers in Sanemi’s beat-up station wagon.

He wouldn’t have traded the smile emblazoned in her face, nor the sound of her raucous laughter, for the world however, not even for the sake of his ringing eardrums.

The duo parked and Sanemi heaved her suitcase out of his trunk. As they made their way towards the train platform, Sanemi fought the urge to take her hand in his, as the snowflakes swirled around them.

“So, how did you find it?” Y/N asked after a moment, her train turning the corner into the station right on time, slowing in the distance as it prepared to stop.

Her snowy-haired friend played dumb. “Find what, exactly?”

She gave him a sly smile. “Sanemi. You’re the only one who would’ve paid attention to me when I complained about some foreign chocolate that you can’t get anywhere but that country. Of course, it was you.”

Sanemi gave her a wry grin. “My credit card may’ve been hacked, but it was worth it. Got ya the whole store shelf, didn’t I?” He nudged her elbow playfully with his own and she giggled.

He would never tire of hearing that sound.

Y/N’s train slowed into the station terminal, and she sighed, parking her small suitcase next to her as she stepped forward and threw her arms around his shoulders.

“Merry Christmas, Sanemi.” She whispered, squeezing him gently.

It would’ve been nice to say it back — to say anything at all, but Sanemi found himself unable to make a sound, a hand only able to come up and awkwardly pat her back just as she pulled away. Whether or not his awkwardness affected her, Y/N didn’t show, for she only gave him one more radiant smile before boarding her train home.

“See you at the cabin!” She said brightly, stepping through the double doors, suitcase in hand.

Sanemi was still standing on the platform in bemusement at his inability to say or do other than stare at her, as though his brain had become nothing but a smooth rock rattling around inside his skull.

Y/N turned to wave at him, the doors to the train still open for the last few stragglers to board, but her smile slid from her face as she beheld him, staring at her with a fiery intensity.

What’s wrong-“ she started.

“I’m in love with you.” He said breathlessly, and to his horror, she froze, her mouth parting and her eyes going wide.

“What?”

But Sanemi could not answer her; he could not even make his traitorous mouth work as the doors slid shut and the train began its slow pull out of the terminal.

Y/N stood there, just past the doors, staring at him with that same, stunned expression until the train car rounded a corner and pulled her from sight.

————————————————————————-

More than an hour later, Sanemi arrived at the Rengoku family home where he was to spend Christmas Eve and the following morning. He kicked his boots off inside the festively decorated entryway, greeted Kyojuro’s parents, and stomped downstairs to the furnished basement where he knew his two friends would be gathered.

Tengen and Kyojuro were sprawled across the plush L-shaped sofa, both silent as they huddled over former’s phone as they listened to whomever was on the other end.

Kyojuro saw Sanemi first and smacked Tengen on the shoulder, the latter looking up as both his friends went wide-eyed.

“Obanai — hold on, he just got here.” Tengen muttered.

“What?” Sanemi demanded, a heat creeping up the side of his neck as his friends stared at him, mouths open.

Tengen pointed at his phone. “Obanai’s on. Apparently Y/N has been talking the girls for the last hour and a half because someone —“ he narrowed his eyes at Sanemi. “Decided to tell her they were in love with her right as her train was leaving?”

Sanemi wondered, briefly, whether it was possible for one’s stomach to fall out of their ass.

“Are you stupid?” Tengen asked, and Sanemi resented the fact he’d almost sounded serious.

“Put Obanai on speaker,” Sanemi muttered, flinging himself down on the sofa next to Kyojuro.

Tengen rolled his eyes but did as Sanemi asked. In the background, Sanemi could hear a faint, shrill voice ranting, and he felt his gut clench. Mitsuri.

“-and now, it’s Christmas Eve and instead of spending it with our girlfriends, Giyuu and I are playing chess for the third fucking time, because that’s how long the girls have been on the phone with Y/N.” Obanai drawled. “Not that it hasn’t been entertaining — ‘Suri is convinced Y/N should’ve pushed you onto the tracks, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi grit his teeth. “What did Y/N say, Obanai?”

His friend muttered something under his breath that sounded like an insult, but Sanemi said nothing, waiting as he heard Obanai’s voice grow smaller as he left the phone in favor of approaching the girls.

Sanemi��s stomach dipped at the renewed sound of indignant screeching that crackled through the phone, Tengen and Kyojuro snickering.

“Fine, alright, okay, stop yelling,” Obanai’s reedy and exasperated voice grew louder as he neared the phone again, though Sanemi could still hear the muffled sounds of Mitsuri squawking in the background.

“Mitsuri said you’re gonna have to man up and talk to Y/N yourself,” Obanai relayed, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. “And Shinobu said she doesn’t care enough about you to break girl code.”

Sanemi groaned, throwing an arm over his face as he leaned back into the sofa cushions, wishing he’d saved Y/N the trouble, and jumped in front of her oncoming train himself.

“How do I unfuck this?” He intoned to no one in particular, lifting the arm over his eyes to squint at his two friends as they continued to suppress their shit-eating smirks.

“You could try texting her,” Kyojuro offered, though Tengen shook his head in disagreement.

“You can’t just send a text right after confessing your undying love for her as her train was leaving,” the flamboyant man chided, clicking his phone off and kicking his feet up on the coffee table before him. “That’s like begging her to curse your ass out.”

Sanemi grumbled but he knew Tengen was right; whatever conversation he would have with Y/N would have to be in-person. She deserved that much, at least.

Tengen leaned back against the sofa, twiddling the toothpick wedged between his teeth, eyes narrowed at Sanemi in contemplation. “I thought you two hooked up back over the summer?”

Sanemi snorted, shaking his head, as Kyojuro quipped, “You’re thinking of Obanai and Kanroji.”

Their silver-haired friend looked back to Sanemi, eyebrow raising in incredulity. “You’re telling me, all this time, you two’ve been making eyes at one another and you haven’t been fucking?”

“Watch it,” Sanemi bristled, and Tengen held his hands up in surrender.

“Jesus you move slow,” he mumbled, and Sanemi chucked one of the decorative pillows lying next to him at his head, Tengen effortlessly batting the projectile away. “Is she coming to the cabin next week?”

He was referring to the spacious cabin their group had rented up in the snowy mountains to celebrate New Year’s Eve together, wanting a place large enough to accommodate them all, yet secluded enough that they wouldn’t cause too much harm when one of them inevitably set a tree on fire while drunkenly trying to set off fireworks.

Sanemi nodded, and Tengen’s smile turned smug. “Then I guess you’ll have to wait ‘til then to find out what she thinks.”

—————————————————————————

December 31st – New Year’s Eve

Sanemi Shinazugawa had never experienced torture, but the seven-day stretch between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve was about as close as he’d thought he’d ever get.

By the time he, Tengen, and Kyojuro had loaded up his station wagon with their duffel bags and enough booze to open their own traveling liquor store, Sanemi thought the anxious buzz in his blood would make him jump out of his skin.

He’d not spoken to Y/N since saying goodbye to her at the train station — not really. He’d responded to her Merry Christmas! text in their larger group chat with his own holiday well-wishes, and she’d simply reacted to the message. Otherwise, his phone had remained remarkably silent, without so much as a meme from the woman who held his heart.

He knew that he couldn’t assume her silence meant the worst, even as his brain tried to convince him it was all it meant. After all, Y/N was experiencing her first holiday season without her brother, and Sanemi knew the emotions of such a milestone were far more likely to hold her attention than his pitiful love confession.

He felt nearly sick by the time he pulled into the circular driveway of the enormous log cabin, seated up the hill and a way back from the main road, surrounded only by an endless stretch of snow-covered trees and forest. As he helped Kyojuro unload the cases of beer and bottles of champagne from his trunk, Sanemi spied Mitsuri’s pink Volkswagen parked at the other end of the driveway, next to Gyomei’s Hummer.

Sanemi’s stomach flipped as Tengen unlocked the back door of the cabin, loudly calling out to their friends in greeting in that booming voice of his. Giyuu and Mitsuri leaned over the bannister of the staircase leading to the second floor, waving as the remainder of the friend group straggled through the door, stomping shoes against the welcome mat to clear themselves of any lingering snow.

Sanemi’s eyes met Mitsuri’s and the pinkette’s narrowed, as she promptly turned away from him with a pointed harrumph.

Kyojuro snorted as Sanemi sighed, and they heaved the case of beer they’d brought into the kitchen and on the counter.

It was going to be a long day.

—————————————————————————

Y/N emerged from the room she was sharing with Shinobu and Mitsuri not long after he’d arrived, decked out in some sparkly get-up of Mitsuri’s that was more suited to wearing out at the club than it was for staying in, though Sanemi wasn’t about to complain.

She’d cheerfully greeted every one of their friends with hugs and her smiles until she came to him. Thankfully, Y/N was far less awkward than he, and she’d only hesitated for a moment before giving him a hug that Sanemi found did not last nearly long enough.

As the group settled in with their drinks and grazed at the smorgasbord of food and snacks laid out in the kitchen, Sanemi caught sight of Y/N watching him, eyes expectant. He tried to muster the courage to approach her, to ask her if they could talk in private, but Sanemi balked at the weight of both Tengen and Mitsuri’s knowing stares as they flicked back and forth between himself and Y/N.

He couldn’t do this with an audience; he could only hope that Y/N would understand.

Yet, Y/N looked slightly hurt at the way Sanemi turned and struck up a conversation with Obanai and Gyomei, and Sanemi could feel at least one pair of eyes hurling daggers into his back as he remained turned away, no doubt from Y/N’s pink, livid best friend.

This was going to be damn near impossible, and yet, it was entirely his fault to begin with, as he’d been the one to stupidly blurt out that he loved Y/N to her without properly preparing himself for the moment; and now, it was his situation to un-fuck.

Somehow.

And so, Sanemi merely opened another beer and took a hearty swig of its contents, hoping to gain the liquid courage he’d need to finally confront her head-on.

—————————————————————————

Sanemi had downed two flutes of champagne since the sun had set and he still found himself jittery and uneasy as he continued to dodge Y/N’s pleading looks.

He felt like an asshole, especially right then, as the year wound down to its last half hour. Sanemi was standing in the kitchen alone, turning over a bottle of champagne in his hands as he debated taking it along with him when he went to find Y/N, and work things out between them. Perhaps they could open it in celebration if it turned out that she returned his feelings; if not, he could always drown his sorrows in the bubbly.

“If you don’t grow a pair and talk to Y/N, I’m making out with her at midnight,” Shinobu threatened, brushing by Sanemi to grab another bottle of cheap champagne to uncork. “Right in front of you.”

Sanemi shot her a shit-eating smirk. “Don’t think your boyfriend would be a fan of that idea,” he challenged, grabbing the opened bottle from Shinobu’s hand and pouring himself another glass of sparkling wine.

“I support it,” Giyuu called out from the living room, much to his girlfriend’s satisfaction and Sanemi’s irritation.

Shinobu tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned sharply away from him on her heel. “I rest my case.”

At that, Shinobu departed with a shrill reminder for him to man up! and Sanemi was left alone in the kitchen once more. With a deep inhale, Sanemi lifted his champagne flute to his lips and tipped back its contents, swallowing his champagne in a single wet gulp, before setting the glass back in the counter, and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

He set out to find Y/N.

—————————————————————————

He found her outside, leaning up against the side of the cabin as she nursed her own flute of champagne, as she stared past the line of trees where their friends had begun assembling the various rockets and fireworks they’d gathered to mark the start of the new year.

Sanemi felt his tongue go thick at the sight of her, so pretty in the snow, though he didn’t know how she wasn’t shivering; she didn’t even have on a coat, and the only thing on her legs was a thin pair of nylons and her platform boots she insisted made her “nearly” as tall as him.

He joined her in leaning against the cabin on the opposite wall of her, though she did not acknowledge his presence past a small inclination of her head, her gaze instead falling to the glass clutched between her hands.

The silence stretched endlessly between them, making him shift his weight from leg to leg as he squirmed.

“Where’s that pretty smile o’ yours?” Sanemi finally broke, and Y/N looked up at him, a frown pulling her painted lips into an adorable pout.

He may have been a tad buzzed from the champagne, but his head felt clear, and his heart felt full as he looked towards his beautiful best friend, so very underdressed for the single-digit weather and snow in that sparkly two-piece Mitsuri had insisted she wear, even though it was just them at the cabin, celebrating.

“Back at the train station,” she mumbled after a moment, returning to her own champagne flute, swirling the liquid around.

Sanemi felt his gut sour, and he found his tongue incapable of forming any words, much to his embarrassment.

Neither said anything for a moment, the distant echoes of their friends cheering as they set up the fireworks magnified against the snowy backdrop of their mountain retreat.

“Why’re you avoiding me?” Y/N’s voice was so small, so unsure that Sanemi felt his heart ache because he hated that he’d been the cause of her doubt.

“I mean, how can you tell me that — what you said, a week ago, and now you can barely meet my eyes?”

“Y/N-“ Sanemi sighed, but Y/N cut him off once more.

“I understand if you didn’t mean it; I get it’s easy to get caught up in the moment, but just tell me that.” She pled.

Sanemi exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I was worried about your reaction,” he confessed after a moment, and Y/N’s frown deepened.

“I was also pissed at myself for doin’ it that way — I had a whole plan, I was gonna take you out somewhere nice, like you deserve, but, well,” Sanemi trailed off, awkwardly. “You just looked so happy at the Christmas party, and then you hugged me, and I guess I went a bit stupid.”

Y/N was silent, only staring at him with wide eyes, her champagne flute dangling precariously from her loose hand as she gaped at him.

“Y-you meant it? You really meant it?” She breathed.

Sanemi looked to her and rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ve been waiting…a long time, to hear you say that.” Y/N admitted, a tentative grin spreading across her face.

Sanemi met her smile with his own, and he began to advance slowly towards where she leaned against the cabin wall. “Sorry to make you wait, princess.”

Y/N responded with an airy laugh. “I expected I would have to break the ice,” her heart thundered against her sternum as Sanemi boxed her in against the logs with his arms. “I’ve been openly flirting with you since the snowball fight.”

Sanemi snorted. “And I’ve been putty in your hands since Halloween. Probably longer.” His hand rose to rest on the small, exposed sliver of her waist and Y/N shuddered at how warm his touch was.

“You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, then.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed in on the proximity of Sanemi’s lips to hers. Though felt the warmth of his breath caress her face, he maintained just enough distance between their lips to tease her.

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” Sanemi murmured, his thumb stroking the small patch of exposed skin above her hip.

Y/N smirked. “Then warm me up.”

Somewhere beyond the trees that dotted the property, Sanemi and Y/N’s friends began the countdown to midnight; but the two of them did not react to the impending new year, instead only holding one another’s gaze, steadily in the snow.

Their faces were titled towards one another, both still teasingly withholding the satisfaction of being the first to close the marginal distance between their lips from another. But in the distance, Sanemi vaguely heard his friends cry “ONE,” and so, right as the New Year arrived, he finally gave in, and he slanted his mouth over Y/N’s.

Later, Sanemi would muse over the fact that that had been the second time he’d missed a fireworks show with his friends, but he would not be able to care.

Because no display of colored sparks in the sky could compare to the feeling of Y/N’s lips moving fervently against his; could not compare to the way her fingers buried in his hair, or how she felt beneath his palms as he pressed her against the cabin wall and kissed her for all she was worth.

When they finally broke apart, the winter night had fallen silent once more, but it did not remain so; in an instant, their friends erupted into applause, with Tengen letting out a very loud Finally!

Y/N laughed and wrapped her hand around the collar of Sanemi’s jacket, hauling his mouth back to hers. As their friends made suggestive oohs, both Sanemi and Y/N stretched their hands out and simultaneously flipped the group off.

“It’s about damn time, you two,” Tengen drawled as the group made their way inside the warmth of the cabin.

“If you find a rocket in your bed tonight, Tengen, I want you to know it was me.” Sanemi replied smoothly, not taking his eyes off Y/N as she blushed under the hand he kept on her cheek.

—-———————————————————————

It was after two in the morning, and most of the revelers had finally drifted off to bed, drunk and happy and partied out. Only two couples remained awake, not quite yet ready to let the sparkling night fade to black.

One couple was seated on the ornate leather couch before the cabin’s lit Christmas tree, talking and giggling softly to themselves. Mitsuri stifled a sleepy yawn behind her hand, settling in against Obanai’s side as her eyelids drooped.

The ebony-haired man smiled to himself as Mitsuri’s breathing slowed, the beautiful girl finally nodding off against him as the excitement of the weekend lured her to sleep. Slowly, so as not to disturb his girlfriend’s peaceful rest, Obanai turned his head to watch the other couple still awake, though they were in the adjacent reading room.

There, standing before the large bay window of the cabin, Sanemi slow-danced with Y/N as the sound of some old holiday song crackled through the old record player of the cabin’s study. Y/N’s back was to Obanai, but her head was resting against his friend’s chest as Sanemi rocked them from side to side, his lips pressed against the girl’s hair. After a moment, Sanemi bent to murmur something in her ear, and Y/N drew back from his chest and nodded, causing his grin to spread wide across his face.

Obanai turned away from the sight of his friends, a small smile creeping onto his face, as Sanemi led his new girlfriend to his room.

—————————————————————————

Everyone was slow to rise later on New Year's Day, in no short part due to the previous night’s indulgences.

The last to rise, however, was the friend group’s newest couple, and it was with no small amount of delight that the friends saw Y/N emerge from Sanemi’s room, dressed in his sweater from the night before and a pair of men’s briefs. She padded into the kitchen, happy to accept the steaming mug of coffee that Shinobu handed her with a knowing smirk, while flipping off Tengen as he’d loudly asked her if she’d enjoyed her night.

When Sanemi finally entered the kitchen, a dark purple bruise seared into the side of his neck, the whole gang erupted into applause, much to the couple’s laughter and slight embarrassment.

Mitsuri sidled up to her best friend, nudging her with her shoulder. “Shinobu and I had a bet as to who would show up this morning with hickies. She owes me $5.”

Y/N’s returning smirk was naughty as she brought the steaming mug of coffee to her lips. “You just can’t see mine.”

Mitsuri giggled and Y/N couldn’t help but join her, feeling too warm and happy as her eyes met her now-boyfriend’s while he watched her from across the counter. As she’d swiped a donut from one of the several boxes scattered around the table, Y/N felt Sanemi’s fingers shyly brush against her own, and the pair exchanged small, sweet smiles before resuming conversation with their respective roommates.

Later, as the group loaded up cars with their luggage in a haphazard game of suitcase Tetris, Sanemi caught Y/N’s eye again and winked, prompting the latter to blush.

As they piled into their cars and drove away from the cabin, Sanemi realized he was the luckiest man in the world.

—————————————————————————

Epilogue — New Year’s Day, 2 years later

“He just texted me — they’re walking up,” Kyojuro whispered, and the group dissolved into renewed giggles and excitement as the snow drifted lazily outside.

“Shush!” Shinobu urged over the tittering group, as they all crouched in the dark, excitement buzzing among the friend group as they waited anxiously in Sanemi and Y/N’s apartment.

Mitsuri rocked on her heels beside Shinobu, squatting behind the couple’s sofa, her hands fluttering in glee. “They need to hurry up! I can hardly wait!”

“They’re almost — shut it!” Shinobu hissed at the unmistakable sound of a key entering a lock on the front door.

There was a wash of light from the apartment hallway as the door swung open, and Shinobu and the others burrowed deeper into their hiding spots. Only as the door clicked shut, and Sanemi flipped the light switch to their living room, did the group erupt.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” Every one of them — Mitsuri, Obanai, Shinobu, Tengen, Gyomei, Kyojuro and even Giyuu sprung from their various crouching spaces behind furniture and closets as they greeted the newly engaged couple.

Y/N’s hands flew to her face in surprise and joy, her cheeks bright red as she laughed. On her left hand, a beautiful, emerald ring sparkled.

The blushing bride-to-be turned to her fiancé and smacked him lightly on the chest. “You ass! Is this why you’ve been so weird and secretive over the last few weeks?”

Sanemi caught his fiancé’s hand and brought it to his lips, prompting the young woman to flush even further. Before she could return the gesture, Y/N was nearly knocked over by the flurry of pink and green that hurtled toward her, locking her arms around her neck and sobbing with joy.

“He was afraid he was gonna blow it,” Tengen offered, though he flinched at the sharp glare the scarred man shot his way. “Okay fine — he thought we would blow it.”

“I can’t imagine why he’d be concerned,” Y/N shook her head in mock-solemnity over Mitsuri’s shoulder. “After all, Giyuu did spoil Gyomei’s 22nd birthday.”

Giyuu made some sound of indignation as the tips of his ears reddened. Kyojuro thumped Sanemi on the back in congratulations. “I still think it would have been much nicer to have us all there when you finally popped the question, Shinazugawa!”

Sanemi rolled his eyes. “Like hell was I gonna let you shitheads ruin a romantic moment.”

Mitsuri, who’d not yet unwound her arms from Y/N’s neck, leaned in close to her best friend’s ear. “Did he cry?” She whispered conspiratorially.

Y/N’s grin widened. “Like a baby. He got down on one knee and started blubbering.”

It might have been a slight exaggeration — though her snowy-haired lover had gone misty-eyed as he’d knelt before her in front of the large Christmas tree in the city square and poured his heart out. As he pulled her in tight against him after sliding the delicate ring on her finger, Y/N had felt the wet droplets of his joyous tears as he’d buried his face into the side of her neck.

But Y/N couldn’t resist the chance to make it known amongst their friends that Sanemi Shinazugawa had the softest heart out of any of them.

The pair of best friends dissolved into giggles, before Mitsuri pulled away and the two hummed and hah’ed over Y/N’s engagement ring, Shinobu joining in as they marveled over the way the emerald shone.

Beside them, both Obanai and Giyuu looked accusingly at their smug friend. “Neither of them are gonna shut up about the ring now. Thanks, Shinazugawa.” Obanai grumbled.

Sanemi locked an arm around his friend’s neck and ground his knuckles into the top of his head. “Please. Like you don’t have a Pinterest board titled ‘future wedding’ for when you decide to have the balls to ask ‘Suri to marry you.” He grinned. “I’ve seen your phone, dude.”

“Jackass,” Obanai mumbled, though any ire he felt towards the snowy-haired man was quick to dissipate, because he couldn’t remember the last time Sanemi had smiled as broadly as he did right then.

He was happy — really, and truly happy.

Because Sanemi Shinazugawa loved many things.

He loved Saturday mornings, when there was no alarm or no obligations, and he could just exist peacefully in his bed with his woman wrapped snug in his arms. He loved when his phone had zero notifications, because that meant he was being left the fuck alone, and in peace.

He loved his friends, that wonderful group of people whom he’d known for most of his life, who’d always supported him or provided a good kick in his ass whenever he needed it.

But most of all, Sanemi loved New Year’s Day, and the snow, because it had brought him Y/N — his fiancé, and the great love of his life, and all her smiles that he had to look forward to every day, for all the days to come.

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