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honey-flustered · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 13: Dirty Wrestling

Perv!Eddie Munson x Fem!Delinquent!Childhood Bully Friend!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dirty wrestling, mean!tomboy!reader, tease!reader, sub!eddie/dom!reader, s-dere reader (think like a playful Wednesday Addams), pervy!eddie, featuring f-boy!steve, modern au, childhood bullying, misogynistic views of women by the hellfire members and steve, kissing, mentions of amazon position, mentions of protected sex, mentions of overstimulation and multiple orgasms, reader gets the last laugh

Summary: Eddie so desperately wants to get laid and seeks you out as an option. He gets more than what he bargained for when he finds out the hard truth why you don’t stick your dick in crazy.

A/N: This was super fun and experimental and I don’t care that it flops I love it 🥰

Eddie groggily trudges into the lunchroom, appearing more disheveled than usual. He plops down into his seat, the bickering amongst his peers ceases as they look at him with concern.

“Eds, you look like shit.” Jeff says.

“Yeah, what gives?” Gareth chimes in.

Eddie darts his eyes on each side before speaking. “Cover your ears, little sheep.”

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas exchange confused looks. Impatient; Eddie waves a dismissive hand and they eventually obey grumbling about how stupid it is.

“Gentlemen, I want—no, no…I need to get laid. It is actually concerning,” Eddie begins, flexing his fingers in an open and shut fist. “This hand…satisfies me no longer. I need to get my dick wet or I think I might go insane. It’s gotten so bad to the point where this morning, I opted to ride a crowded bus instead of driving simply because I wanted to feel the warmth of a woman. As the kids say, ‘I am down horrendous’.”

“Me too,” Gareth sighs in frustration. “I don’t even care for penetration. I just want to be held.”

“Boy, I’m sure lucky I’ve got a girlfriend to get laid whenever I want. I mean, well…whenever she wants,” Jeff’s smile slowly fades as he stares into space. “It’s been 3 weeks and counting but it’ll be anytime before she comes asking. Aaaanytime.”

“I bet I’d get some before Jeffy gets any again.” Gareth chuckles.

“Not before me.” Eddie challenges.

“Are you both making a bet on the basis of my suffering?” Jeff asks, nostrils fuming.

“Yep, yeah, pretty much.” Eddie and Gareth say in unison.

“And how the hell are you two planning on doing that? We’re lucky we even lost our virginities to begin with. Where the hell are you two going to find girls willing to sleep with you when you can’t even look ‘em in the eyes?” Jeff inquires.

“Maybe I could direct you plebeians to a solution?” Dustin interjects, causing the three older boys to turn their attention his way. He’s tapping the tips of his fingers together, a mischievous smirk on his face,

“No offense, Henderson,” Eddie scoffs. “But what the shit could you possibly help us with? Just last week, you thought the condoms in Steve’s bedroom were balloons.”

“Obviously, I’m referring you to him. He helped me build my confidence with the ladies,” Dustin trills in a dorky growl that causes everyone to cringe. “Wouldn’t have the guts to speak to my Suzie-poo if it weren’t for him. If you’re looking to make some happy screams, he’s your guy.”

“No way,” Eddie laughs. “I’m not some sorry loser taking a class on picking up chicks.”

“That’s exactly what you are.” Lucas argues.

“Au contraire, Sinclair,” Eddie begs to differ. “Would a sorry loser shred ‘Master of Puppets’ on guitar after just a week of listening to the song?”

“Yes, that’s huge loser energy.” Mike answers.

“We have a campaign to run in a week,” Dustin says. “I’d rather you two have the heads on your shoulders to be in the game and nothing otherwise.”

And pathetic as it is, Eddie and Gareth would soon find themselves in front of Steve’s dorm room. Dustin lays a few knocks on the door as the older pair internally ping-ponged between pessimistic embarrassment and optimistic desire.

Steve opens the door with a knowing smile. “Well, well, well boys. I’d say I’m surprised to see you but my loyal client here has informed me of your arrival,” He touches two fingers to his temple as if to concentrate his ‘powers’. “Lemme guess, you both wish to consecrate with women.”

“I…think you mean ‘consummate’.” Dustin corrects.

“That’s what I said,” Steve snorts, throwing open his door and gesturing inside with a repeated swat of his hand. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road, I’ve got a date with twins. One at 8 and the other at 10.”

“Twins?” Gareth whisper-yell, shooting Eddie a look of excitement.

“You’re bluffing.” Eddie dismisses.

“If I’m lying, I’m crying,” Steve says before showing off his phone screen with a photo of the girls. “And you don’t see any tears, do you?”

“Teach us your ways, oh, great Master.” Gareth says in awe.

“That’s King to you. Have a seat and listen well, boys.” Steve instructs before sitting on the edge of his computer desk while three boys sit on a small sofa across from him. “First off, you gotta weigh out your options. If you’re in it for the long haul, then you can go for the girl that takes a lot of effort to get. These are usually the girls you might’ve been pining for, for a while. But since you’re looking for a quick nut, then you’ll need to weigh out your feasible options. Gare Bear, whatcha got?”

“Helen from the drama club. Oh, and there’s this cute barista at my local coffee shop that’s been giving me the eye whenever I come by. She even puts a heart over the ‘i’ in my name.” Gareth says.

“You don’t have an ‘i’ in your name.” Eddie says, blinking in bewilderment.

“I know her!” Dustin exclaims. “My mom does some light chatting with her here and there whenever she picks up her coffee. The ‘eye’ you’re referring to is just an involuntary twitching of the eye from prolonged exposure to bright lights in the shop,” Dustin explains to Gareth who begins to slump in defeat. “B-but on the bright side, they’ve fixed those pesky lights recently so if she’s giving you the eye, it’d be for real this time.”

“I’m pretty sure she puts an ‘i’ with a heart on everyone’s coffee cups,” Steve adds. “Cute girl but not the best speller.”

“You’re not helping, buddy.” Dustin sing-songs, through gritted teeth.

“What about you, Munster? What’re your options?” Steve asks with an inquisitive rubbing of his chin.

Eddie searches his thoughts. “No one.”

“You’ve gotta give me something to work with, fellas,” Steve sighs. “Someone’s gotta come to mind.”

“Dude, what about that juvie chick? The one who lives in the same park as you,” Gareth suggests. “Wasn’t she like your childhood friend or something? You’d be so in there!”

“(Name)?! Fuck no!” Eddie shouts. “She wasn’t my friend. She was my first bully.”

————

Age 13

The first time he’d met you, you were both in cuffs at a police station. The two of you sat across from one another as you awaited to place a phone call to your guardians.

Suddenly you retrieved a hair pin from your mouth, clutching it firmly between your teeth as you brought your shackled hands up to your face and picked the lock. Not a moment later, you were free. Eddie could only watch on in awe as you stood up, the cops too busy to notice you.

“A little help here. I can’t have my uncle see me in this place again.” Eddie whispered to you.

“Of course.” You said with a sweet smile before tossing the bobby pin at his feet. “Good luck.”

With a quick blow of a kiss, you strode away and Eddie’s expression morphed into bafflement and dismay.

“Hey! I can’t reach it!” Eddie shouted but you’d been long gone and he’s now alerted the police to your departure.

Age 14

Since then, he was sure he’d never see you again until he briefly attended an alternative school and ran into you again. The moment you saw him, you purposefully tripped him to the ground for ‘ratting you out’.

The torment only seemed to worsen once you began to actively seek his friendship because very few were brave enough to befriend you. Sometimes, you’d invite him over to your trailer home and he’d get a glimpse of exactly why you are the way you are. As you are the youngest and the only girl in the family of a workaholic father and 3 older brothers who were just as chaotic and malicious as you. Then came the day you’d make your ‘friendship’ official, when you all but cornered him in the boys’ locker room.

“Munson, I’m looking for a best friend.” You nonchalantly asked, unfazed by the half-naked boys running amuck at your presence.

“Are you stupid? You can’t be here! You’ll get in trouble.” Eddie chastised.

“What else is new?” You shrugged before taking his hand. “Come on, applications are open and I can’t imagine being besties with anyone other than you.”

“W-what happened to the last guy?” He asks while recalling the last boy toy that you’ve once dragged around the school.

“Let’s just say the ‘bestie’ slot opened up after my last one yelled at me in class. Heard he got visited by the men in white that very same day. Something about an anonymous person calling into a mental institution to report him for his aggression. Wonder who it could’ve been.” You ended with a feigned innocent look.

Eddie really wished he could’ve said ‘no’. But he couldn’t dare end up like the last guy. Even as his peers from behind your view, mimed and charaded away gestures advising against it—, Eddie reluctantly agreed. Thus began a whirlwind of a friendship filled with lots of delinquency and drama.

Age 15

Then by the grace of whatever, Eddie had been able to leave the alternative school and attend Hawkins High after teachers cited an improvement in his performance in his classes. He was finally going to be free.

“It really sucks to see you go. You’re probably going to be so lost without me. If you’d like I could create a distraction that’ll allow us to stay together.”

“No!” Eddie yells then immediately adjusts his tone. “I mean…no. It’s probably for the best that I go to a boring old public school. We had good times but, alas, we must part. I could only hope that we’ll meet again someday.”

“Well, you may be going to a different school but we can still hang out afterschool. We live in the same place after all.” You beamed.

“I’m moving,” Eddie quickly lied. “Possibly very far away. To a remote area that’s so far, there isn’t even an address you can call in to or send me letters or anything.”

“Damn, sounds like my last juvie center. I’ll be wishing for the day we meet again, bestie.” And with that you gave him a crushing hug.

It was a shitty thing to do. Lying to a supposed ‘friend’. He knew. But what else could he have done? You were a lot and sometimes quite the nightmare. He’d have died an early death messing around with you. Ever since then, he avoided you at all costs, making sure to never cross paths with you again. He’d done so successfully for about 3-4 years. Hell, you’ve probably forgotten about him.

If he’s that lucky…

———

“She made me take the fall for a lot of things she did, treated me like a lapdog, made me get into situations where I could’ve died— you know, she once tied me to a tree and left me there for an hour. I had to break out of it on my own only to find out that she’d been only a couple feet away, timing my escape. Last I heard, she hasn’t changed.”

“Yeah, but have you seen her as of late? She’s fucking hot. I’d thank her if she were to spit on me.” Gareth says dreamily while Dustin furrows his brows in disgust.

“Then why don’t you try your luck with her instead?” Eddie asks.

“Because she’s clearly into you.” Gareth retorts.

“I’d advise neither of you two to mess with her,” Steve warns. “The hotter a crazy woman is—buckle the fuck up because you’ll be in for a wild rollercoaster ride. Your inexperienced nerdy hearts couldn’t possibly take that much excitement. They don’t call her ‘The Siren’ for shits and giggles.”

“Siren?” Eddie questions.

“Sirens are evil mythical creatures that lure men to their dooms.” Dustin clarifies.

“Sounds about right.” Eddie mutters.

“You guys ever heard of Norm Prescott?” Steve questions ominously.

“Who?” The boys ask at once.

“Exactly,” Steve says while pointing a finger. “Norm was a kid in my year. Good kid. Captain of the robotics club. Member of the swim team. The poor bastard came across her page on a dating app last year, messaged her, fucked her and he was never seen again. Rumor has it, he went completely insane after one night with her and needed to attend college in a different city in order to be free of her spell. Pussy from a crazy chick will ruin your fucking life. Heed my words: Do not stick your dick in crazy.”

“I don’t know…That sounds kind of metal.” Eddie admits.

“Yeah. What could possibly go wrong?” Gareth asks.

“Pretty much everything from the way that eerily sounded.” Dustin shudders.

“Dudes, she’s not actually some evil mythical…” Eddie’s voice trails off before he correctly starts up again. “She’s not a mythical creature. Just an adrenaline junkie with a sadistic streak.”

“Somehow that sounds worse.” Dustin comments.

“So you’re going to do it?!” Gareth asks.

“‘Course not,” Eddie scoffingly laughs. “I’m desperate…but I’m not that desperate.”

“Good boy,” Steve praises before taking a swig of his beer. “The tale of Norm Prescott is a cautionary one. I don’t want to see any of the people I care for lured to their doom. Oh��and I guess I wouldn’t want that for you guys either.”

“I think I’ll go ahead and consider myself lucky that I’ll never have to experience some shit like that.” Dustin sighs in relief.

“Wait for it.” The older three reply in unison.

———

Eddie’s stomach churned with envy when he learned that two days later Jeff had gotten some from his girlfriend, noticing the bounce in his step. It felt almost like a bad omen to him which confirmed his paranoia when Gareth had bragged to him about receiving the local barista’s number, citing King Steve as his guru.

Though no serious stakes were in place, Eddie truly felt as though he’d max out all his options. He couldn’t possibly be the only one caught in a dry spell when he’s already regarded as a freak enough!

Maybe a night with you didn’t seem so bad after all.

“I see that look in your eyes,” Steve says, tossing a card into the pile before suavely leaning back in his chair. “You’re thinking about fucking her, aren’t you?”

“Gah, this again!” Dustin groans, angrily tossing a card on top. “It’s already bad enough I nearly walked in on Nancy and Jonathan doing the ‘hokey pokey’ while needing the bathroom at Mike’s place. Something must be in the air. Hormones, pheromones, angst—I don’t flippin’ know.”

“H-how is she by the way?” Steve says breaking his f-boy persona. “She ever asked about me.”

“Yes, Stevie, I’m sure she thought of you while getting railed against a bathroom sink by Johnny boy.” Eddie says sarcastically.

“You’re a little snappy.” Steve grumbles.

“Because I’m frustrated,” Eddie cries. “Gareth’s probably going to get off before me. In fact, everyone will—maybe even you’ll get some before me, Dustin, because apparently I’m so much of a loser that I can’t get a single girl to want me.”

“Maybe you should just go for the crazy chick. It’s been years. I’m sure she’s changed. Befriend her again so that you’ll finally get some action and we don’t have to hear you yapping about being a sad little virgin all the time. I mean, how bad could she really be?” Dustin poses the question.

“Norm Prescott…” Steve singsongs.

“But did he die?” Dustin counters.

Steve stands corrected, quirking his head. “You’ve got a point there.”

“Sh-should I really? What if she hates me?” Eddie ask timidly.

“Hate sex with a crazy lady? Sounds like a deadly mix. Not a bad way to go if you ask me.” Steve says.

———

“Hot date tonight, tiger?” Wayne asks with an amused smile and arms crossed as he leans against his nephew’s door frame.

“Actually, I’m going to see an old friend.” Eddie says vaguely, causing Wayne to tilt his head in suspicion.

“You mean that sailor-mouthed girl you used to get up to no good with? Didn’t you used to beg me to lie about your whereabouts to her?”

“We were only immature children then, Way-dog,”Eddie excuses. “We’ve grown apart from our former selves.”

“Just last week, you asked me to schedule a dentist appointment for you because you were afraid to speak to a live person.” Wayne deadpans.

“I was…saving my vocals for a gig.” Eddie justifies.

Wayne sighs, knowing exactly what his nephew is going to get up to. So like the supportive parent that he is, he slips a row of condoms into the pocket of Eddie’s leather jacket.

“Just be careful, son,” Wayne says while patting his chest. “Wearing protection can save you in a lot of ways—“

“O-kay, I’m getting a little uncomfortable. Goodbye.” Eddie flushes red, knowing by now that his own uncle knew the rule of crazy women and that his poor nephew was too far gone to help himself.

Once Eddie’s out the door, his body shakes at the thought of seeing you again after all these years. Would you remember him fondly or as a liar?

Then, he spots you sunbathing in a lawn chair, puffing a vape pen and flipping through a magazine. You’re in a tight yellow bikini with only a small sheer coverall around your waist. Your skin looks so well moisturized, he can tell you’d feel so soft. That thought alone was enough encouragement to keep him going.

He clears his throat and you choose to ignore it at first until he’d done it again. You lower your heart-shaped sunglasses, glaring up at him for a moment before your expression softens—in fact, it brightens once he’s sure you recognized him.

“Bestie…that you?” You ask, rising to your feet.

“In the flesh.” Eddie says nervously shifting his weight on either foot.

“It’s been so long,” You hugged him with that same crushing power that was all too familiar. He should be traumatized but instead he shudders happily, breathing in your vanilla scent. “How are you?”

You pulled away and he had to catch himself from pathetically chasing your embrace.

“I’m great. Really great. Y-you look like you’re doing well, too.” Eddie says with an anxious giggle.

“I am. Thanks for noticing,” You say almost suggestively. “You wanna come inside so you and I can properly catch up? My brothers aren’t home.”

“Yes!” He says a little too eagerly and it makes you laugh.

“Well, come on in then, partner. Don’t be shy,” You beckon, taking his hand and leading him into your lair. “I only bite when necessary.”

His heart beats a mile a minute when instead of being led to sit at the sofa, he’s dragged to your bedroom. He fiddles with his fingers nervously as you begin to lock the door. You turn to face him again with that famous mischievous smirk.

“You remember as kids when we used to play doctor? Those were fun times, right?

Dustin was sooo wrong. You didn’t change whatsoever and Eddie’s slowly regretting his decision.

“Y-yeah. So fun,” He lies, swallowing the hard lump in his throat before taking steps back at your inching approach. “Though, you had me shitting bricks at times when you suggested we use real medical tools instead.”

“I was only messing with you.”

“Hard to believe that when you used to chase me with a pair of scissors.” The backs of Eddie’s knees hit the edge of your bed and his arms flail to keep himself upright.

“But friends can tell little white lies here and there? I never intended on hurting you. Not too badly at least. You know a thing or two about lying to your friends…don’t you, Edward?” The moment you’re a little too close for his liking, Eddie dashes from in front of you and towards your bedroom door but the complicated locks scramble his brain. He quickly faces you again, not wanting to keep his eyes from you too long in case you do something.

You plant your hands on either side of his head, closing the gaps between your bodies. Your full breasts are pressed up against him and yet he’s too scared to care.

“Why’d you lie, bestie?” You ask. “Didn’t we have fun times together? We roughhoused, got into some wild antics, and we even cried together.”

Except, it was Eddie that was doing most of the crying!

“I-I didn’t mean to…t-o...” Eddie says, voice pitched high.

“To lie? Oh, Eddie, mother tells me that when a man lies, he certainly means to do so,” You give a low, dark chuckle. “So after all these years, Eddie, why did you decide to see your dear old pal again?”

“T-to apologize.” He swallows.

“With your cock?” You ask with an innocent tone, batting your lashes. You glide a hand up his inner thigh until it lands on the hard bulge in his jeans, palming him in your surprisingly strong yet dainty-looking hands.

He gasps, fearing that you’d be psychotic enough to break his dick. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just please let me go and I will never bother you again.”

“Oh, I’ll let you go,” You flick your tongue along the bottom length of his straight nose. “But I’d like to play a game…for old times sake.”

“Is it ‘smackdown’?” He whimpers.

“I was actually going to suggest a game of ‘Go Fish’ since you’re always so good at that,” You blink blankly before a sinister expression takes over. “But I like your idea.”

He curses himself in his head, helpless as you grab fistfuls of his jacket and drag him away from the door.

‘Smackdown’ was a wrestling game the two of you created sprinkled with your own sadistic twist in which you two used to wrestle one another. Eddie quite liked to play wrestling with you but as a scrawny kid back then, you’d always win the match. The rules were that you’d have to pin your opponent to the ground for at least 7 seconds. Winner gets the choice to do whatever they want.

If Eddie’s going to get himself out of this mess, he needs to use all the strength he’s got. No holding back. Luckily for him, he’d grown a lot bigger than you.

On either side of the room, you two stare intensely at one another. Eddie charges you with a loud battle cry and pins you down to your fluffy white rug. He’s never had this much of the upper hand. Never gotten past 3 seconds. It’s almost too good to be true.

But when he’s gotten past 4 seconds his heart soars as he can practically taste the freedom. Seeing you struggle for free yourself beneath him was quite satisfying within itself. But then at the 6 second mark, you made the cruelest move yet…you reminded him of his desperation.

You lunged forward and kissed him.

Distracted by this, Eddie releases your wrist in shock. You’re quick to gain the advantage as you roll on top of him and pin his wrists down for the 7 seconds.

“I win.” You gloat.

“You cheated!” He hisses.

“You’re allowed to play dirty or did you forget the rules.”

“What are you going to do to me? Scour the internet for the worse medieval forms of torture to use against me?”

“Tempting,” You say and Eddie wishes he’d shut his big fucking mouth. “But I like my idea better.”

Digging your nails into his scalp and gathering a large amount of his hair in your hand, you crash your lips onto his again. Your other free hand fiddles with the zipper of his jeans and he moans into the kiss when your hands are enclosed around his girthy member.

“I’ve got this new wrestling move I’ve been dying to try,” You whisper against his lips before nipping the bottom lip. “I like to call it the amazon warrior power press. Wanna see?”

By the time you’re through with him; you’ve tossed him in every position you could think of and used him like a proper toy—you’ve officially ruined all women for him. He’s never been fucked as if he were a slut. Cum-filled condoms like inflated balloons piling up beside his head after every round; he’d lost count after 4.

He was a drooling, pussy-drunken fool by the end of it but you gave him no time to bask in it as you’d pushed him out of your home practically naked.

In his underwear, his clothes and shoes in a balled-up mess in his hands—deep hickies and love bites littered all over his skin, he looks up at you on your porch with a desperate yet hopeful smile. His friends will mourn Eddie Munson for he, too, has been cursed with the same spell that once begot Norm Prescott. And even worse, he didn’t have the capacity to care.

“Will I get to see you again?” Eddie says while fumbling to catch his things from falling. “I’d like to take you out on a date sometime. M-maybe I could get your number?

“Sorry, bestie,” You say, faking a sad pout. “But I’m moving.”

And with that, you shut the door square in his face.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober fic #eddie munson angst #stranger things au

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kdvnco · 10 months ago

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high school enha boys in love

genre! : fluff

pairings! : heeseung x reader, jay x reader, jake x reader, sunghoon x reader, sunoo x reader, jungwon x reader, niki x reader

warnings! : none

do not ask any questions. do not ask where ive been what ive been doing. or when am i posting again💝

LEE HEESEUNG - nerdy guy

Heeseung and his friend group are the biggest losers in the school. They're the type to play Dungeons and Dragons at school and then get bullied. Heeseung is not affected by it at all, he enjoys going to school even if he's not that good at it. Especially now that he developed a small crush on you. He didn't even try to get you, knowing well he had no chance with you. He just hoped. Until he got a chance.

The teacher set you up to a group project, and fortunately or not for you, but you guys needed to work together. You were a quiet girl at school, mid class, not popular or a loser with a decent friend group. You also had no problem working with Heeseung, you just really didn't care. You never hated or bullied him, he was just kinda there. But after working with it, it turned out beside that he is a nerd, he's quiet fun. Hee tried to keep low with his obsession for nerdy stuff, but it didn't bother you at all once you both grew closer. You got along with his friends too who were too obsessed with the tought of speaking to an actual living woman that they constantly stole you away from Heeseung. He thought he finally had the chance, turned out you just wanted to be friends.

[rest utc!]

PARK JONGSEONG - class clown

You were friends with the class clown, Jay. You were his only friend. Though everybody loved him for being funny, he didn't have any close friends besides you. He was easy to talk to, Jay got along with anybody that was forced to interact with him, until it was a woman. For the life of god he couldn't speak to women. You laughed at him for that. You were a girl and his only friend, but it was never a problem to talk with him. He liked you that's why.

All his attempts to make you laugh were weird attempts to flirt with you. It worked out every and each time, only making him to like you more. He wished you also liked him.

He bought you flowers and gifts for you birthday or for different holidays. Taking care of you when you needed him the most. It turns out he can be serious too.

SIM JAEYUN - fuckboy

He's the biggest fuck boy at the school. Everybody knows him, he's super popular with a huge (but full of fuckboys) friend group. Once he notices somebody, he tries his best to make them fall for him, and like that, he collects every girl he sets his eyes. on. You agree he is handsome, but you can't help but despise him. Even more once you see him starring at you in the hallway. You immediately slap your head, knowing well you are his next opponent. He won't give up easily.

You arrive at school to flowers neatly put on your desk and people whispering at the back of the room. And not only does he buy you multiple gifts each week, he approaches you almost every day, trying to strike up a conversation while you try your best to ignore him. You told him off many times before, he's so determined to get you. Jake is annoyed with you. He doesn't want much other than a sweet night spent together.

Jake gets more and more chances to interact with you, actually getting to know you, getting closer to you... slowly falling for you. It takes him a long time to clear his name before ending up with you.

PARK SUNGHOON - pretty boy

He skates, he's pretty and he's quiet. That is all it takes to become the girls' favorite. Sunghoon's not only popular in your class, but many older and younger girls visit him in the breaks, trying to strike up a conversation with him, but mostly he shyly shakes his head as response to the girls' questions. During physical education, many girls watch him play games, visiting him any time they have a free period. Sunghoon loves and hates the attention. It depends on who's giving it to him.

All he begs for is your attention. He secretly wishes you would also bother him in the break, talk to him and let him make you laugh. Whenever he's talking with a girl, from the corner of his eyes he checks if you're looking at him, but it's never the case.

KIM SUNOO - the favorite

Everybody loves Sunoo. He is the sunshine of the school, having multiple friends from each class, being able to talk to anyone about anything easily making him the most liked person at the school.

He's popular in every category, just not when it comes to love. He never thought he would fall for someone, especially not one of his close friends, so when it did turn out that way he didn't know how to act. It was never hard to be around you or talk to you until now. He started avoiding you, luckily he had many friends, but soon he realised none could replace you, and his feelings weren't fading.

He doesn't know how to flirt, his best attempts at trying to make you fall for him was being especially nice to you, hanging out more often, but when all of those attempts were unsuccessful he opened up about his feelings.

YANG JUNGWON - top student

Jungwon was the quiet, straight A's student. So many people had crushes on him, that he was aware about, he just couldn't care less. One thing he cared about is his rival, you. As soon as you joined the class, you also became top student of the school. He became super wary about you, he just couldn't imagine any other person being on his level. He knew he had to worry about his title as the 'Student of The Year', he began to participate in meanigless competitions, but you were there for every and each one of it.

He tried sitting close to you to make sure you are not cheating in any way, or making any suspicious moves, because for sure he'd snitch on you. But this never happened. Instead you started noticing him and teasing him about it. He was so annoyed with you, trying to be better, but even if he was you aced the next test with ease.

He became so obsessed with your life, almost knowing your whole daily routine, starting to fall for you. He noticed so many things about your behaviour that he adored so much. It made him mad, but it was hard to hide it when you teased him and he blushed. You would catch him starring and just quietly laugh at him. It was too obvious, you knew it.

NISHIMURA RIKI - annoying friend

The loud annoying kid in class somehow ended up as your friend. He forced himself at you long enough, so you let him in accepting his friendship, which turned out to be fun. He was funny, outgoing and weird. Exeptionally weird, making it even more fun to be his friend.

The more he hung out with you the more you liked him, quality time tying you together with him emotionally. He introduced you to his other friends, inviting you to hang outs whenever you were free, and because you started liking him... more than a friend you freed up your time just him. You wanted to know if he felt the same, but nothing changed even when you asked to hang out just the two of you. He acted the same.

The only reason you ended up with him was, because his friend snitched on him. Niki, no way in hell would confess to you, so they helped him. You would have nevet guessed he liked you back.

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star2fishmeg · 29 days ago

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ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ | sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | six years later Quinn and y/n find themselves back in the place it started and old memories truly are precious...but so are new ones Authors Note | enjoy the (long) blurb @thehugheslover, sorry it took so long! This is only going to make sense if you read Feel This Way!!

The familiar clink of pool balls hitting each other, music at a moderate volume but mainly muffled by laughter and chatting and the back doors wide, opening the basement onto the patio where meat roasted on the barbeque under the balmy sun. Everything had stayed. The world was almost the same as they were back as teenagers but this time, they weren’t as naive, and everyone had grown up. Really grown up, into adults with jobs and lives, new ambitions and what happened six years ago were nothing but fond memories protected by the walls of the lake house.

Y/n and Quinn sat on the sofa, turned slightly to face each other so they could look out into the rest of the room, her finger gently brushing over the stain between them. The second her skin touched the fabric, it all came flooding back like film tapes, the night Brady stayed over in particular.

“We were so stupid, but it was a lot of fun,” she began with a chuckle, Quinn turning his head in interest, watching her trace around the splotch, “The Vodka Incident, when Brady brought that vodka, and we all thought it was fucking amazing.”

Cole’s voice groaned out from the distance, followed by Trevor and Jack’s obnoxious laughing, clearly relishing in Cole losing their game of pool. The couple giggled, glancing over at the group, their memories fading in and suddenly they were bought back to that night, and they were sixteen with three fifteen-year-olds and little Luke sat in a circle. The way Cole’s face had screwed up hideously, Jack and Trevor’s attempts to be ‘cool’ but landed them both in the bathroom and gagging and Luke tucked into her side most the night.

“Yeah, Luke used to cling to you all the time, he was literally your shadow,” he said, watching Luke take a cocky bow after a successful turn, “and Brady, oh my God, you two used to torture me, like, come on, ‘who do you currently have a crush on?’ while you were sitting on my lap? You two killed me.”

Y/n laughed fondly, watching Brady enter the basement waving tongs like a magic wand, passionately interrupting the guys by fact checking them about something too muffled to make out from where she was sat. She then remembered the argument she and Brady fell into that everyone retold as if they’d thrown fists at each other, “Honestly, I thought you’d be jealous that I’m close with Brady too, but I was so wrong.”

“How about we not bring up my teenage insecurity, I felt so lame,” he smiled, hand taking hers and interlacing their fingers. He remembered that part too well, Jack and Luke loved to bring it up with him because for them, it was peak comedy and a learning curve on what not to do. Watching it happen was not as funny, but Quinn was their older brother, so how could it not be funny? “You don’t even understand, y/n, I got a scolding, from Jack.”

“Well, I was also lame so we’re even. Luke told my brother about the whole thing and that fucker did not let me live it down.” She grinned and placed a kiss on his nose, “You know what he said? ‘Yeah, everyone knew Quinnifer was, like, in love with you’ the little loser.”

He groaned playfully at the nickname, even after all the years her brother still called him that. He really couldn’t escape that one, he’d somehow obtained it during college, y/n’s brother just started calling him Quinnifer out of the blue and his only explanation being that the women love it and it’s catchy, but it was better than other thing’s he’d been called.

Looking back over at the group, their friends that’d grown up with them, but whose personalities hadn’t changed, they wondered what it’d be like if they were sixteen again, and what they’d do differently. But they weren’t sixteen anymore and all the angst had been and gone, that chapter closed. Quinn was captain of the Vancouver Canucks and y/n was flying in her own career, and while they’d achieved so much by twenty-five, Quinn still had a list he wanted before he could feel satisfied.

Moonlight shimmering over the ripples of the lake, warm lanterns illuminating along the dock just like it always had. Y/n and Quinn’s bare feet padded along the wood leisurely, hands encased in each other’s and not a word spoken between them, they just needed a bit of peace away from everyone, even just for a moment. Passing the boats harboured up, Mila came to mind. Not in any other way than what happened that day and how he felt y/n’s desperate, burning glares from the other side of the boat, how he wished it was y/n breasts pressed against his shoulders and not some random girl’s.

“I should’ve just told you how I felt from the start,” Quinn mumbled, but his voice clear from the serenity of the dock, nothing but crickets singing and distant chatter, “Like, we wouldn’t have had to go through that confusing, are-we-are-we-not phase. I can’t believe I was such a pussy.”

Y/n giggled, swinging their arms, “Don’t blame yourself, I was also responsible. I told most the story to some friends in college, and even they thought it was obvious we liked each other. I sort of wish we hadn’t had that situationship, like, we were just hurting ourselves.”

“Yeah, no, I agree. Had me crying myself to sleep, it was fucking stupid.”

“I know, Jack told me the night of the Vodka Incident, he saw you crying when we were going to sleep.” She didn’t need Jack to tell her Quinn cried that night, she felt his tears on her skin and the way he’d squeezed her like she would evaporate, his favourite teddy bear. She just never said anything, no need to bring up the painful past when they were living in their own paradise in the future.

The more time she spent in the lake house, the more the memories swirled in her mind, not dwelling just remembering the times she couldn’t during the hockey season. The lake was a sanctuary, a museum of youth that held so many minor details you’d never see unless you were searching for them, like the names etched into the decking, aged but still prominent.

Quinn glanced down, barely reading the names scratched into the wood until he walked over something he distinctively remembered scratching with Brady, right before they were off to college; Q + y/n in a heart. He stopped right above it, tugging y/n back to face him, sweat forming on the back of his neck with butterflies in his stomach. Y/n blinked twice at him before raising a brow. He pulled his hand away, wiping both on his shorts before taking a deep breath.

“Uh, hey, listen…” his eyes shifted to her ‘Q’ necklace, to her eyes and then back to the etching on the floorboards before her necklace again.

“Q?” she asked, head flooding with multiple scenarios, piecing together location and their ages, his sweating, the fizzling in her chest and down to her stomach, “Oh God, you’re not getting traded, are you?”

His eyes widened, “Huh? No, no, Jesus no. It’s uh…well…um, just wanted to tell you how much I love you and appreciate you. You’ve, um, been by my side forever and I’ve been, uh, thinking about the future…”

He dropped to one knee, sliding a little, velvet box from his pocket and held it out in front of her, eyes sparkling under all the little lamps but more importantly because when he looked at her, he saw the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The most caring, supportive, girlfriend. His best friend who, no matter what, never gave up on him. He gazed at her with dilated pupils that may have well been hearts. Y/n’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she gasped gently, hands covering her mouth, and she struggled to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Y/n L/n, I have loved you since we were fifteen and only you can make me feel this way. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, in sickness and in health. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Quinn’s voice shook, not a filler word tumbling out for once. All those days rehearsing his speech in the mirror paid off, all that stress lifting off his shoulders and she watched his hands tremble.

Y/n nodded desperately, tears spilling down her cheeks, “Yes, of course!”

He grinned from ear to ear, corners of his eyes creasing as his eyes watered, wiggling the ring - polished with her birthstone - from the cushioning and sliding it onto her finger, his arms wrapping around her waist firmly. He held her close into his chest, spinning her around with his face buried in her shoulder, his heart swelling. When they rounded back to their original spot, they melted into each other’s bodies as they always had, t-shirts soaking up the salty tears of joy, the realisation of how far they’d come hitting them like bricks. Y/n and Quinn Hughes, forever and always. Their new chapter, with new adventures and the start of their own little family one day.

small worlds | @bunbunbl0gs

(To be added to taglists, just comment or ask via ‘pass me the puck!’)

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

#≡qh43 #≡small worlds #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader

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hoonvrs · 2 years ago

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NOONA — p. sunghoon smau

PAIRING younger!sunghoon x older!fmr

SYNOPSIS park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

GENRE smau, fluff, highschool/college au, crack, sunghoon having no shame

FEATURING ( enha ) all, ( aespa ) karina + winter, ( txt ) beomgyu + soobin, ( loona ) olivia hye

WARNINGS swearing, kys/kms jokes, friendly bullying, dick/sex jokes, sunghoon crying every other chapter ( more will be added if necessary )

STATUS complete

TAGLIST (CLOSED)

S. NOTE adding this note here to remind everyone to not spam like! it shadowbans my posts and lessens my engagement, enjoy <3

PROFILES loser lamo wannabe | WOMEN IN STEM (and man) | privs

CHAPTERS

01 | BLONDE JAKE HATE PAGE

02 | surprise shawty!

03 | what’s her name, quickly

04 | why’s he kinda…

05 | not a virgin anymore

06 | all da virgins mad😹

07 | do it for noona

08 | he’s out of line. let’s kill him.

09 | we both crode (+written 0.5k)

10 | you are scaring the hoes

11 | not living not laughing not loving

12 | she won’t me

13 | sounds sus…

14 | hey dweeb

15 | me n her are like this🤞🏼

16 | you wanna kiss me so bad

17 | i’m bathed in his blood

↳ extra: can you fight

18 | never beating them delusions

19 | what the actual fuck dawg

20 | you scare me sometimes

21 | what did you just call me

22 | hoes be mad

23 | gotta make mommy proud

24 | HES SO!:&:@2’d

25 | no comment

26 | the sexy six (+heeseung)

27 | y’all

28 | messy girls

29 | a little birdie told me

30 | i’m better than her

31 | BRING HER BACK🗣️

32 | heart brocken

↳ extra: ask me if i care

33 | i’ll understand

34 | I WAS A LITTLE EMOSH

35 | is it cause i’m too swaggie

36 | imma dawg imma freak

37 | y’all hear sumn😰

38 | ruh oh

39 | liverboy

40 | what if i was suicidal

41 | omg hes fucking french

42 | girl what

↳ extra: i can fix her❤️

43 | virgin with a capital P (+written 0.4k)

44 | in big 20 23

45 | kill you’reself

46 | i hate virgins

47 | we’re breaking up.

48 | the ‘park’ date (+written 0.4k)

49 | YOU CANNY TRICK MEH

50 | i’m gonna eat him

51 | not you lying on my name

52 | back up missy

↳ extra: deez nuts

53 | WELL THATS TOO DAMN BAD

54 | shut up 5’9

55 | /sad

56 | have some shame

57 | elimination

58 | do it No balls.

59 | past tense of see. seew

60 | CIC

↳ extra: random

EP1 | proof or it didn’t happen

EP2 | his ass is NOT studying

EP3 | #SNOWAPPDIE

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humanpurposes · 3 months ago

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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

No Taglists, follow @ficsbygee for updates when I post

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year ago

Text

Better Man

Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.

Finally.

It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.

You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do

Eddie.

He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.

Fuck, he was so sexy.

His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.

"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.

"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.

"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.

"We're done"

"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.

Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.

Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.

One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.

The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.

"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.

"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.

"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.

❤️

Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.

"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.

"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.

"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.

He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.

"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.

"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.

His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.

"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"

The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.

Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.

You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.

"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.

He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.

Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.

Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.

"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.

"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"

Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.

You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.

"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.

"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.

"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"

Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.

"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.

"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"

Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.

"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.

"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"

Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #mean eddie #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson

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lexithwrites · 3 months ago

Note

Please more sugardaddy moonwater hcs. Pls!!

this might get long sorry (but this is kinda what i wanna write next so pls give me feedback) xoxo

they met through a sugar daddy website that james showed to remus one night (he's on it and is absolutely not telling him that he's met a guy)

remus is so embarrassed at first, he was on tinder like twice and had bad dates because of it so he isn't exactly confident this will work but he does get a lot of attention

he gets messages from kinda old guys, and a few older women, that are either way too pushy with what they want in return for an 'allowance' or just kinda creepy and he almost deletes it

then he gets a message off of someone young, maybe his age, and he's gorgeous

remus is so sure its a scam, no one can look that good and be on an app like this but he messages them anyway when they say hi first, and he asks about them and the guy is regulus arcturus black (he gives his full name, he's a loser) and he's literally just looking for company and someone to spend money on, nothing in return, he doesn't need it

remus is kinda shook because like what?? how is this guy lonely he must have friends but turns out regulus just has rich friends that can buy their own things, he doesn't have anyone to spend time with other than when he goes to family events which he hates

and remus is like okay,,,,maybe drinks first and regulus sends him the location of probably the nicest bar in london and remus is close to passing out because he cannot afford this at all but he said he'd go

he wears his nicest outfit (its a brown jumper and some nice trousers and his converse, he cant afford anything else rn because his cat started a hunger strike against the food he's had for a year and remus had to upgrade, kids eh?)

regulus is already there because he is never a minute late, and checking his rolex thinking he's been stood up but remus runs in like 'hi im so sorry i missed the train hi' and regulus is in love already, just straight up his heart starts hammering in his chest because not only is remus gorgeous in a weird, dorky way but he's just...he's adorable

regulus is calm tho, think levi ackerman levels of expression, he just kinda sits there arms folded and asks remus questions about his life and what he would like as an allowance and remus is just,,,confused?

he asks why regulus wants to spend his money on him and regulus insists he's bored (he's so fucking lonely and wants someone around him to dote on) and just needs a date to events as his parents are giving him shit for being single at 26

remus is unsure but decides fuck it, james can probably throw hands if regulus tried anything, and they agree to attend some gala together for regulus' family and remus says he'll have to get new clothes and regulus then sets up a date the next day to buy him an outfit and its a lil montage of regulus giving remus clothes to try its very cute

and is remus confused and guilt ridden for this man spending money on him? yeah, duh, but also he doesn't have to pay his bills anymore, he has amazing clothes, his stress levels are so fucking low than before, and he likes regulus....he really really likes him

and regulus is getting what he wants, but also he has remus lupin as eye candy and that's an added bonus, and god remus is so adorable and nerdy and he wants to climb him like a tree

also yes remus sees james at the event and he's like what the fuck are you doing here and turns out james is with HIS sugar daddy, aka regulus' brother and its a whole ordeal

and maybe one night regulus invites remus to stay with him for the night because its too late to get the train and he doesn't really want to let remus go and maybe they drink wine and maybe they touch just to see what its like and maybe MAYBE they kiss and make out and fuck slow and deep and then AND THEN—

i might write more if people like this idk,,,,

#the marauders #mail #regulus black #remus lupin #moonwater #moonseeker #fic: iyhm #maybe??? we'll see where my brain goes with this one

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delfiore · 1 year ago

Text

—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)

synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this

You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.

Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.

“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.

“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”

“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”

Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .

Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”

You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.

It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.

But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.

“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”

Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”

You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”

“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”

“Almost.”

“Almost,” Lucy said.

Almost.

You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.

If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.

“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.

“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”

Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.

You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.

But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.

It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.

Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

Really?

She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.

“I think I’m just unlovable.”

You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?

“I think I’m unlovable too.”

You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.

Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.

When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.

“Did you hear?” She said quietly.

“What?”

“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”

“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.

“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”

When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”

You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.

“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”

“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”

“You said that a thousand times before.”

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”

You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.

“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”

You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.

You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.

You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”

She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”

“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”

“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”

You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.

It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagines #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines #woso imagines #woso fanfics #alexia putellas

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