#As Told by Gin AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaotic-mystery · 1 month

Text

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

#studioghibelliswritingchallenge #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller au #professor Joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

843 notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 2 months

Note

Hiiiiii can I please order French toast with vodka and martini with maxxxxxxxx

Thank you I am living for your writing!!!!!

bakery menu

want to order? look at the menu! we're always serving up smiles at the bunny bakery! we have a full-time staff (me) who makes sure your desserts are made with love and the drinks are poured to perfection!

french toast ("you're trying to make me jealous!") + vodka (rough sex) + martini (mafia au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!max, references to violence, mean dom!max, smoking, non penetrative sex, sex toys & bondage

max knew how to throw a punch, it was one of the first things he felt like he learned in life. now, as the boss, he didn't punch as much as he thought he would've as a child. but when that lackey threw his arm around your shoulders and crowded your space. max wanted that guy's teeth stuck in his frontal lobe.

and you were just playing right into it. laughing at his jokes as he got closer, but you put your hand on his chest and gave a smile. you said something to him that max couldn't pick up due to the music in the club.

not that what you were saying even mattered, max wanted him dead. if he kissed you, max couldn't be responsible for what he would do. he briefly wondered how many teeth he could break with a single punch. he hissed through a tense jaw before he finished his gin and tonic and headed towards you.

the lackey, max couldn't even remember his name, looked up at max and smiled, "hey, boss." and gave the man a wave.

you looked away briefly as you sipped your vodka and cranberry.

max crossed his arms, he got the message loud and clear. the new guy didn't know who you were. or rather your relation to the family. he noticed that the engagement ring you wore was off your finger. oh, you were trying to cause a seen.

you little slut.

he looked at you and tilted his head, "i didn't know you were so comfortable with all ranks of the family, mrs. verstappen."

the lackey's eyes went wide as it all clicked together. he quickly pulled away from you and looked beyond shocked. he looked like he was going to piss himself. he stammered out, "i'm so sorry, boss. mister verstappen, boss, sir!"

max sighed and put his hands into the pockets of his slacks. the sleeves of his crisp button-up were rolled up, showing the strength of his arms. he said, "it's fine. i'll let this go, this time. as for you." he turned his attention to you. he snapped his fingers and pointed behind himself and the lackey was on his feet and out of sight.

you carefully took a sip of your drink, "what?" a defiant little thing. that was what max liked about you. he didn't want a submissive puppy for a fiancee. but it was however a double-edged sword.

he took the glass out of your hand and put it down on the glass table. he grabbed you by the wrist and showed you your hand, the absence of a ring was glaringly obvious.

"i didn't want to get it dirty."

"you're trying to make me jealous, mijn kleine slet." he said as he pulled you to your feet, "you can't be playing these games when we get married, acting out like a brat." his voice was tense and made your entire body feel flushed, "now let's get in the car and talk this out, like a couple."

max was once told that cigarettes tasted better if they were lit with a match instead of a lighter. the word "fresh" for a flame was thrown around, regardless max had to agree, cigarettes tasted better when lit with a match.

he was in his office chair, in the home you shared. he was leaned back in it with the unlit cigarette in his mouth. he took the box of matches off the solid wood desk and struck a light. he lit the cigarette before he shook the match dead. it and the box were put back on the table before he turned back to the exquisite, whorish woman he called a fiancee.

he leaned forward in his seat. took you a good while to get you tied up like that. the kind they had to use for the hogs. legs up and arms behind back. right in the center of your back was max's expensive crystal ashtray.

"break it." he said, "i'll throw you to the dogs." but you were barely listening and he knew it. after all when he got you onto the carpeted floor and bound, he slipped an impressive vibrator into your aching cunt. it was controlled by a remote which max had in his pants pocket. he took another inhale of the cigarette and looked at you.

those blue eyes were painfully pointed. he was predator that could see all, and you were the prey he got into a lovely trap. in all fairness, he was impressed that you could make him lose his cool like that.

he believed he had been conditioned so much that he wouldn't break a sweat when emotions for rocky. but you were under his skin like a splinter that he couldn't get out.

he didn't expect less from his future wife.

"you know what you did makes you a whore right? like the kind that walks around the red light district. you know, if you like the attention so much, i could get you a nice window right in the center of the area. make a hefty price." he nudged your shoulder with the front of his sleek shoes, "mafia boss' fiancee's fall from grace."

you kept your gaze on him, not like you could say anything. currently his tie was bound around your mouth. you weren't meant to talk, you were meant to stay there and listen.

with the cigarette in his mouth he said, "i would rather not have that. a boss' wife is supposed to have... grace, she isn't supposed to be letting underlings practically grope her." he exhaled, leaning forward to get it almost in your face, "would you consider yourself graceful, schat?"

you nodded your head. you felt the electricity in your body. you tensed up when he put his hand in his pocket and lowered the vibration setting. only to raise it again soon after. that was the trick with remote controlled toys, to keep the pace uneven and make whoever wearing it beg for more.

but you wouldn't be doing much begging tonight.

he nudged you against with his shoe and said, "don't lie to me." before he took another drag. the sight of him, a little warm and slightly disheveled. the cigarette hung loosely in his fingers. he was a dangerous man, he could easily have you killed.

but he'd never do that, he'd rather skin himself alive than have his beloved be dead. even if you were a brat, he still was going to make the oath to be with you for the rest of your days.

the pleasure from the toy was becoming overwhelming, you could almost feel the vibrations in the back of your head. you laid there tied up, and when max was done the cigarette, he leaned over and put it out in the ashtray you were keeping balanced on you.

he leaned back in his chair and looked at you. he said, "you look better like this. maybe next time i should give you a collar since you like to act like a bitch in heat." he propped his head against his fist as he leaned against the arm of the office chair.

you were a quivering mess, his harsh words shot to your core. he played with the controls once more and you were gasping around the tie in your mouth. the expensive material was getting ruined by your spit as you squirmed.

max thought he was being generous when he took the ashtray off your back and onto the desk. he knew you were going to come apart at the scenes at any moment.

he didn't want you to break something that cost more than your entire university tuition. he could see the tremble in your body, you were such a glutton for punishment.

you tried to speak around the tie in your mouth, but felt a curl in pressure in your gut. you had nothing to hold onto while the toy buzzed in your aching cunt. your toes curled as he watched you with careful eyes.

he was a bad man. there was a glint in his blue eyes as he watched you struggle. he wasn't even fucking you, but yet he had you on your knees. he had you whimpering with cloth in your mouth.

"pretty thing." he said softly, "see, i like you like this. not making me jealous." he reached over and patted your head softly. in such a juxtaposition to the pace of the toy.

he knew he wasn't exactly lying, he didn't want a submissive wife all the time nor, did he want a wife who was trying to make him jealous all the time.

you let out a whine as you arched your back and climaxed around the toy. your body tensed up, and a slight ache was in your muscles. you felt your heart pound in your chest as you came.

you went lax and pulled at the ropes that bound you. you pressed your forehead against the carpeted floor as you tried to settle down. you gasped when the vibrator was turned off. your breathing was in heavy pants as you relaxed.

max tapped the apple of your cheek when you looked at him once more. he said, "so perfect for me."

you tensed up when the knife came out from the desk drawer. max crouched next to you and got the knife through your binds. he also too his tie out of your mouth. he bundled you up in his arms on the carpeted floor of his office.

the weight of the toy inside of you made your stomach twist and when he slowly pulled it out of you. you thought you were going to cum again, especially when his thumb grazed up against your clit. he held you in his arms on the floor.

"are we done with these little games?" he asked.

you remained curled in his arms and let him rubbed your forehead gently, you said, "for now."

he chuckled, "of course, but be careful, schat. you may be my wife, but you are still human. with blood and all, and there would be many who would like to see that blood spilled."

you looked up at him and he kissed you on the lips. when he pulled away you smiled. you could feel your fiance's cock against your lower back. these silly little games you played, but max wouldn't have it any other way.

his beautiful future wife. <3

502 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 1 year

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, self worth issues, angst angst angst, fighting, yelling, tension, gods the fucking tension, smut, creampie, big feels, drinking, drug use (weed).

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Is this chapter 11.4k because I didn't want to split it up into two parts and I'm determined to keep this series at 15 chapters? Yes. Is it smart? No. Am I stubborn? Yes. Look it's a long ass chapter, but I hope that means it makes up for the late post, however I will say this, I have finished writing sublet, so the final chapter will come in a few days! And then, THEN, I shall get to your naughty little requests hehe. If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you didn't. Enjoy ! <3

Chapter 14: Over the Edge

Warm rays of the suns light beat down on your body as you lay by the pool, a cool breeze rolling through the estate causing the drops of water on your skin to cool you down. There were few clouds in the sky, and the air around you was filled with the laughter and splashing of the boys in the pool.

Daeron sat astride Aegon’s shoulders as he wrestled with Lucerys; who sat atop Jacaerys’. Their fingers were interlocked as they tried to push each other off their brothers shoulders, shouts, grunts and encouragement being yelled by Baela and Rhaena who watched on beside you and Helaena in the sun.

The day had breezed by, and as a group, you had made rounds to the kitchen to fix yourselves cocktails and snacks.

Reaching beside you for the gin and juice drink you had made, you found only the remnants of melted ice at the bottom. You surveyed everyone else’s glasses, the boys beer bottles empty beside their chairs.

Standing, you asked if the girls wanted anything to drink. Rhaena looked up at you lazily, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight as Baela did the same, though the elder stood and came to your side, eyes skimming the empty glasses.

“I’ll help.” She offered.

You gave her a wide smile, “Thanks Bae.”

Helaena however, did not look up at you to answer your question, her drink beside her half drunk and half melted, most likely warmed by the sun. Slim pale fingers held her phone, speedily shooting off texts to someone, too engrossed in looking at her phone to have noticed you asked her a question.

“Hel.” You tried to garner her attention, watching as her eyebrows lightly lifted, eyes still on the screen.

“Huh?” She murmured, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Helaena was wearing a daffodil yellow one piece that had small brown flowers printed onto it, her large floppy hat atop her head again to protect her face and shoulders from the sun, with large round glasses that had slid halfway down her nose, eyes peering over the top of them as she furiously text someone back, bottom lip pulled into her mouth by her teeth.

You clicked your fingers in her face, “Hello? I said do you want anything to drink?”

Helaena finally tore her eyes away from her phone, and you watched as she swallowed thickly when she met your eyes.

Worry struck inside of you.

Had something happened?

Rhaena and Baela sensed her change in demeanour, though neither said anything, and turned to face the boys, asking what they wanted to drink instead. Aegon, half tilted in the water as Daeron slapped away Lucerys' hand that grabbed at his shoulder, asked through gritted teeth for a Pina Colada, the weight of his brother taking a toll on him. The others settled for beer.

“I’ll have what Aegon is having.” You told the girls, watching as they went inside, casting a curious glance back at you and their cousin.

Shifting, you stepped closer to Helaena, watching as her eyes flitted to her phone as it vibrated in her palm twice before back up at you. She looked guilty, nervous, and perhaps even a bit worried.

“Hel? What's going on?” You probed, sitting down beside her on the bed, “Don’t tell me you and Sara are fighting?”

You hoped that they weren’t, and instead wished that they would get back together again. Helaena evened Sara out, and Sara did the same for Hel. They really were a good match, and you had never seen Helaena so happy until she was with her ex lover.

Violet eyes met yours, then away to the lit screen, then back up to yours.

Her avoidance was making you nervous.

Lips parted, and then came your answer.

“Aemond’s coming.” Helaena confessed sheepishly, and you felt your heart immediately begin to race.

Your mouth felt dry, and a knot began to form in your stomach.

Aemond was coming.

Here.

To the Red Keep.

“What?” Disbelief in your voice.

Helaena said he would never come here.

Your best friend looked suddenly guilty, eyes looking anywhere but you, “Yeah.” She said quietly, “He’s on a flight here.”

And then it made sense.

“You told him I was here.”

It wasn’t a question.

She locked her phone with a press of her thumb, turning it face down beside her on the tanning bed, “I did.”

The words put a sour taste in your mouth.

“What? Helaena, I can’t see him.” You shook your head, fluttering feeling in both your chest and your gut.

The Targaryen woman frowned at you sadly, watching you as you stood, wringing your fingers together.

“I think you should hear him out.” She whispered, but you were too anxious and annoyed to reason with her in that moment.

She had told him you were here.

Stepping away from her, you frowned, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

The rest of the day was filled with heightened anxiety after Helaena confessed that her brother would be arriving to the Red Keep. You had left her by the pool, feeling all eyes on you as you stormed back inside.

You knew it was likely childish, but you felt sick to your stomach knowing that he would turn up, and that you would have to pretend to everyone around that nothing had happened between the two of you. That you couldn’t even tell them what had happened. That you would have to pretend to be little more than strangers who simply shared a space, and that was it.

The only person there who knew the truth of it was Helaena.

And despite the small piece inside of you that missed him, that yearned to see him again, it was quickly squashed with the way your stomach turned in on itself, mind reeling with an array of ‘what if’s’ about what the silver haired man had gotten up to in your absence.

Had Alys come back?

Did she stay the night?

Had she been there ever since?

Did he do the things he did to you to her in your own home? On your couch?

But then a more unsettling thought popped into your mind.

Had she hurt him?

Had she made him feel weak? Like he couldn’t escape?

Had she taken away the smiles that you craved to see?

It was all too much, and you had to take deep and calming breaths to try and beat the tears that began to prickle in the corner of your eyes.

Why was this so difficult? Why were you so hurt by this? Why did you care so much?

You had made it to her bathroom, and that was where Helaena found you, hunched over the double sinked basin in her ensuite, eyes shut as you breathed deeply through your nose.

“Hey.” You heard her approach. You straightened, blinking the tears away, your reflection joined by hers blurry in front of you, “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

You shook your head, turning to face her.

Why was she sorry?

This was their home, not yours.

“You don’t need to say sorry to me.”

Her light brows furrowed as she came towards you, “He was worried about you. Didn’t know where you were.” She explained, making you feel guilty for your reaction to not only his messages, but her telling him where you were, “I only told him because he wouldn’t stop asking. He knew you weren’t at Cregan’s. I didn’t think that he would come.”

Aemond was worried about you.

But how did he know you weren’t with Cregan?

“Look,” Helaena sighed, stepping closer to you, “He wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t important.”

“Your father dying seems pretty important to me.”

You regretted the words immediately as they came out of your mouth. You didn’t say it to be mean, or to hurt her, it was just a statement of fact.

Helaena simply sighed again, “Yeah, and has he been here? No. He’s coming for you. And you’re going to hear him out.”

“Hel-“

“-No. You will. He’s coming all this way, to a place he didn’t want to come to. It’s…triggering for him. At least do him this one act of kindness and listen to what he has to say when he arrives.”

Listen to him when he arrives.

That was easier said than done.

Every fibre in your being told you to tuck tail and run.

He will probably tell you that whatever you had wasn’t real, and that he was in fact back with Alys. That he was moving back to Harrenhal with her, and that you would never see him again, bar an occasional gathering with the rest of his siblings where he would probably ask you to keep whatever little tryst you had secret from the others in order to keep the peace.

And you would agree to it, for him.

But hearing those things from him was something you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to feel lesser than you already did. You didn’t want to have to lay in bed each night when he leaves, picking yourself apart in comparison with her. You didn’t want to know that you would never be enough for him, and she would.

You blinked at Helaena. You didn’t want to cause her anymore grief. But by staying here, and having to talk to him, to hear his rejection face to face, you didn’t know if you could do it without breaking down.

You breathed in deeply before exhaling.

In.

Out.

“There’s nothing to say.” You shook your head, “Alys was on our couch, judging our home, Hel. Judging me. And he let her. There is nothing between us besides something physical.”

Those eyes you adored stared at you, narrowing slightly.

Time stretched uncomfortably between the two of you as she didn’t respond to your terrible lie.

She knew you were lying.

You knew you were lying.

There was no denying it, the feelings you had for him. Not to her at least. Not with her spooky intuition that she had. Nor the way you reacted when you thought of him, or how you had fled to her family home in a moment of crisis because his ex had been on your couch, hand on his thigh.

The image made your chest light with jealousy and hurt.

You walked past Helaena and into the bedroom, eager to get away from her all seeing eyes, plopping down onto her bed heavily, stomach feeling as though it was full of stones. Had the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood come into the room in the dark of night and fill you with rocks? Or was it just the more rational, and far more nerve-racking reality that you would have to come face to face with someone who you liked, more than a friend, and deal with the impending rejection and subsequent end.

That’s why he was coming.

To end whatever the two of you had.

That was it.

You picked up your phone from the side table, forgotten once again, to see another 4 messages from Aemond, asking where you were and if you were safe. The last of the messages stating that you weren’t at Cregan’s, and he that he was calling Helaena.

His sister stood in front of you again, this time, with her arms crossed.

“You’re going to hear him out.” She stated, voice stern and steady.

Here was the rarer side of Helaena, a side that Sara had taught to her. A side in which you knew meant business. You searched her face for any sort of wriggle room.

There was none.

She continued, “And if you don’t like what you hear, then you can go home.”

You breathed deeply once more, in through your nose, out through your mouth, resigned to your fate.

“Fine.”

Helaena smiled at you gratefully, “Good.” Her tone was lighter, arms uncrossing in front of her chest. You could see a wave of relief flit over her body, and you felt some sort of calm knowing that she was happy with your, though forced, answer. “I think he deserves a chance to have a voice after so long without it.”

Helaena dragged you back down to the pool, Aegon eyeing you warily before handing you your half melted Pina Colada. You took it gratefully, plonking down on the bed beside him, sipping at it deeply.

If you were going to get through his arrival, you would need something to soothe your nerves.

And some liquid courage.

If Aegon knew anything about his brothers soon to be arrival, he didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his lilac eyes surveyed your face and posture, that either Helaena had told him of her plans before hand, or perhaps he had been told by Aemond himself.

You didn’t want to know either way.

You were not about to draw attention to it.

You complimented the twins on their cocktail making skills, and spent the rest of the afternoon by the poolside with everyone. You had smiled and giggled and joined in on the fun, the drinks helping somewhat to calm your nerves, however as the sun began to set, and Helaena escorted you back to her room to get ready for dinner that evening, anxiety reared its ugly head inside of you once more.

Helaena gave you another dress to wear, less done up than the one before, which made you think that the job proposal was perhaps far more orchestrated than you had realised. Tonight’s dress was a warm black, with short sleeves that sat off the shoulders with a Bateau neck. It was floor length, light rippling layers of differing lengths towards the bottom that were sheer and moved like waves.

Why these families always had to dress up for dinner in their own homes, you had no idea, but it felt as though there was some sort of silent ‘holier than thou’ competition between them all.

You had pulled your hair away from your face, and eventually made your way down to have dinner with the family again. You moved to go outside to the dining table in the back, but Helaena steered you differently, taking you to a small (if you could call it that despite it being larger than your flat), ‘intimate’, Helaena’s words, not yours, dining room.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat beside an empty, larger, much older chair. One you assumed would have been Viserys’ usual spot it he was well enough to join. Jacaerys and Baela sat up the end with Rhaena and Baela, and Daeron was looking at his on the other end phone in his lap.

Aegon and Alicent were nowhere to be seen.

Aemond, also absent.

You sat beside Jacaerys, Helaena beside you, and greeted all with a small smile. It felt easy, being in their presence, and with the majority of the Hightower kin being missing, the tension in the room was almost nonexistent.

“Have you thought more on our offer?” Rhaenyra asked sweetly, sipping at her wine as Daemon held her hand on the table.

You tucked yourself into the dining table, “I have, I-“

Footsteps and a hissing whisper came from behind, and all seated at the table turned to watch as Alicent guided her sons into the room.

Both of her eldest sons.

His eye immediately found yours, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest, breath stilling in your throat. He was dressed in all black as usual, but more formal, likely for his mother and for the meal with family. He wore black slacks with a black dress shirt, three buttons undone at the top so that you could see the sliver of the silver chain he always wore. Aemond’s hair was up in a low bun at the back of his head, small wisps falling around his face with some tucked behind his ears.

His violet gaze pierced yours, and you turned away sharply, shifting your attention to the centre of the table, looking at the flickering of one of the many candles in the room.

Oh yes, very interesting.

What a lovely candle.

Definitely attention grabbing.

Aemond seated himself at one end of the table, Lucerys shifting at the other end as he too avoided his uncles gaze. Daeron seat was a seat away from his mother, who sat in the chair at the head of the table, the one that was usually reserved for Viserys.

Aegon, beside Helaena.

And there it was. The tension again.

But it was riper than usual.

Thicker.

And you couldn’t help but notice that perhaps it had something to with the fact that there was a certain member who had returned, that all others had not expected to see.

The heat of his gaze warmed the side of your face, and you couldn’t help but feel anxiety pull sharply at your gut.

Do you say hello?

Do you ignore him?

What do you do?

If you didn’t do something, they would know something had happened. All knew you were living together, the least you could so was give him a smile.

So biting your cheek, you turned to land your gaze upon the man you had fled from, watching as his chest rose sharply when you locked eyes.

“Aemond.” You greeted him, though your voice sounded slightly strained, and the smile that pulled at your lips looked more like a grimace.

His eye softened at the sound of your voice, his head tipping towards you in acknowledgment.

A pressure moved to your thigh, and you pulled your eyes away from the man at the end of the table to the woman beside you. Helaena had her hand gripping your thigh, a soft reassurance and act of comfort.

“Rhaenyra.” Alicent greeted her step daughter, tone warmer than the last time.

Rhaenyra turned the top half of her body towards the woman. Open, responsive, listening.

“Ali.” Her violet gaze moved further along the table, settling on her half-brother, “Aemond, I didn’t know you would be coming. How is Harrenhal?”

You sucked air sharply through your mouth, feeling uncomfortable for both Aemond and yourself.

You looked back at the candle, watching the flame flicker.

Do not look at him.

Do not-

“I left.”

Blunt.

Emotionless.

Straight to the point with no room for her to continue the conversation.

All at the table felt the air crackle as an uncomfortable energy shifted around the room.

“Your talents were wasted there.” Rhaenyra spoke again, voice calm and un-probing in the way they were delivered, “Will you be resuming your studies?”

The orange flame flickered gently, and there was a pregnant pause that filled the dining room before Aemond answered.

“Yes.”

Although he was speaking with Rhaenyra, you knew just by the goosebumps that erupted on your skin that he had not once taken his eye off you. If Rhaenyra was annoyed by her brothers lack of response, she didn’t show it, and instead took it in stride, giving him a soft smile before turning her attention to the auburn haired woman beside her.

The dinner felt as though it went for hours, when in reality, shortly after Alicent and her sons were seated, food began to be placed upon the table. Entrees, sides, mains, and then finally dessert, and yet not once, did he take his full attention from you. And not only that, the tension between him and his nephews made for a more uncomfortable dinner than it already was.

You could now see why Helaena avoided visiting her family.

Lucerys would occasionally sneak glances at his uncle, but Aemond would only meet his gaze for a moment before returning it back to you. But his watching didn't go unnoticed.

More than once, Daemon and Rhaenyra would give you and then Aemond shared looks, and Daemon on one occasion, flat out laughed, clearly enjoying the train wreck of tension that was the evening.

When dessert was placed in front of you, a fluffy pavlova with passion fruit and differing berries, you found you didn’t have the appetite for it. You dabbed your lips gently with your napkin before pushing your chair backwards to stand, all eyes lifted to you.

“Thank you for dinner, it was beautiful.” You smiled at Alicent, her bright eyes creasing in the corners as she gave you one back, “Please excuse me, I'd like to go to bed. I’m quite tired.”

You knew he was watching you. You could feel it. You could feel the heat of his eye on your face, on your neck and shoulders, on the way your hands wiped nervously against the sides of your dress.

Alicent nodded her head at you, “Of course.” And being the well mannered host that she was, bid you a good night and went back to entertaining her “guests”, immediately turning her face towards Rhaenyra who gave you a sweet grin.

A pressure at your hand caused you to cast your eyes downward, meeting Helaena’s concerned gaze. You gave her a reassuring squeeze and a subtle shake of your head.

No.

I am fine.

I am totally okay.

Not at all struggling to breathe with my heart in my throat because your brother, who I’ve been fucking by the way in case you forgot, had his abusive ex over at our place which resulted in a fight and me coming here, has been staring at me this entire dinner and I don’t know what to do.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, briskly leaving the intimate dining room to go to Helaena’s bedroom, feeling that same heat on the back of your head as you left. Your footsteps echoed on the stone floors as you tried to take deep and steadying breaths, stomach tying itself in knots.

You felt on the verge of tears.

You were halfway up the stairs when you heard footsteps coming swiftly towards you.

“Wait.” Came the smooth and deep timbre of the man you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Your mouth opened, and you increased your pace up the stairs, almost lurching yourself up them two at a time. Not ready to hear his rejection. Not ready to speak to him. Not ready to feel the pangs of pain in your chest again.

A deep sigh came from behind, footsteps closer now.

“Would you wait a second?” Aemond called to you again.

No.

No I will not.

I am going to take myself straight to bed so that I can cry in the shower and pretend that I’m not crying.

You finally came to the top of the stairs, taking a sharp left turn to speed walk down the hallway towards Helaena’s room.

Goddamn them and their stupid, giant estate.

“I said wait.” Aemond jogged in front of you, stopping abruptly in your path so that you would have to stop.

You almost ran straight into him.

His chest was heaving and his brow was pulled down as he looked at you. There was a blush to his cheeks and you watched as he swallowed thickly as he took you in.

Your chest fluttered.

“What?” You breathed, lump forming in the back of your throat.

All you could think of was your last interaction.

I don’t know.

“I was worried about you.” Aemond muttered, eye roaming your face.

There was that dastardly pain in your chest. You tried to swallow the lump, but it stayed thick and heavy in your throat, sadness seeping into your bones.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

The man frowned, “You’re clearly not. I texted you.”

Guilt.

“I know.”

The way he was standing in front of you was so unsure, so closed in, like he didn’t know what he was doing, or how to speak to you in that moment. It reminded you of how small he made himself look with Alys.

Alys.

I don’t know.

You moved to step around him, trying to get to the room which was further down the hall.

Get to the room and then you can cry.

Get to the room and then you can let it out. Don’t let him see you like this.

Don’t-

Aemond blocked your path again.

You huffed, breezing past him, your shoulder lightly brushing against his arm as you made your way forward.

Almost there.

Almost-

“Can we please talk about this?” His voice came from behind.

Keeping your eye trained on Helaena’s door you responded, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Yep.

Keep lying to yourself girl.

Cause that will make it all better.

“Y/n, please.”

Your steps slowed, door right before you. If you leant forward enough and reach out, your fingers would graze one of the door handles and you could simply press down and slip through the door.

But even then, would it be enough to keep him out?

He had flown all the way here.

It was time to face the music.

You spun around, gnawing gently at your bottom lip as you looked at him. He looked almost relieved to see you turn to him, and his hands twitched at his sides. He stepped closer but kept his distance, watching as you shifted on your feet, counting your breaths.

Don’t cry.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh shit.

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.

Aemond breathed deeply.

It was quiet for a moment, but you let it hold.

It was his turn to speak, and once he had told you that these things didn’t come easy to him.

So you would give him time.

You would give him five minutes to say his peace, you reasoned with yourself. Five minutes to let you down gently, to tell you that he was back with Alys, and then you could spend ten minutes wallowing in self pity and cry in the shower, and then, after all that, you would make Helaena let you go home.

She did say you had to hear him out first.

Well, now was his chance.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” He continued, eye boring into your own, “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Surprised as you were?

He let her in.

Irritation stirred in your chest.

Not just at his words, but his inaction during what had happened.

Inaction for his own autonomy and self respect.

“Surprised.” You said tonelessly.

Aemond cast his eye to his shoes, watching as they shifted on the hundred years old stone.

“I don’t expect you to understand-“ He began.

“-Then help me to.”

His sharp jaw ticked, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just- I saw her and-“

“-Let her into my home without asking. And to top it all off,” Here came the anger and hurt, “You shrugged me off in front of her and allowed her to insult me.”

“She didn’t insult you.”

You scoffed, looking away, eyes focusing on an old portrait of some Targaryen ancestor with a silver crown atop his head, “You still defend her. Even when you’re trying to apologise to me. You said I was just ‘Helaena's roommate’, as if we hadn’t spent multiple nights together in my bed. How did you expect me to take that? It was humiliating!”

There goes your plan to let him to do the talking.

Regret flashed across his pale features, eye casting away from you, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head at himself, “You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to dismiss you, or make you feel as if you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Mean something to him?

“But you did.” You stated bitterly.

Aemond took another step towards you, and you had to fight the urge to not take one back.

You pressed your tongue into your cheek as you waited for him to respond, waited for him to finally tell you that he was back with her. That whatever you had together was over. You just wished he would get on with it.

The waiting was worse than the knowing.

Tears began to prick at your eyes.

“Please just get it over and done with.” You blurted, and watched as confusion washed over his face, “Just-“ You wet your lips with your tongue, “Just tell me what you came here to do.”

Aemond shifted on his feet, brows lightly furrowed as he looked at you sadly. His mouth opened and shut twice before words came forth, “I know my actions have hurt you, but I’m lost. I know that isn’t an excuse, and I shouldn’t try and use it as one, but I don’t know what to do.”

You picked at the skin of your finger, “I don’t know what you want from me, Aemond.”

“I want you.”

You blinked.

What?

“I need you. I came here because- Because I- I needed to see you. I needed to make it right. I’m sorry.” His face grew sullen, and you wished that he wouldn’t look at you that way. It made you want to step forward and pull him into your arms, “I shouldn’t have let her talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I should have done many things, but I didn’t. I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He breathed, eye roaming your face. Aemond took another step forward, face suddenly becoming harder with conviction, “But I know that I want you.”

I don’t know, replayed in your mind over and over again.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He breathed, and your heart sank.

He didn’t know what to do.

And that meant, you would be strung along for the ride until he made his decision.

A traitorous tear escaped the corner of your eye, sliding wetly down your cheek. Aemond’s lip twitched as he saw it, and his hand moved towards you. You stepped back, hand pressed against the handle of the door.

“That’s not good enough for me, Aemond.” You choked, pressing the handle of the door down to open it, stepping inside without another glance back.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you shut the door behind you, back leant again the wood as you stifled a sob with the back of your hand.

He wanted you.

But he didn’t know how.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was lost.

But only he could make those decisions.

You couldn’t do that for him.

He had to do it himself.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much, that your shower was a blur of tears, and you hadn’t even noticed when Helaena snuck into bed beside you after, brushing your hair away from your face as she cooed sadly at you. You let your best friend hold you as you sniffled against her, turning Aemond’s words in your head over and over again.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

But neither of you knew what to do.

The next morning you woke with swollen eyes and anxiety in your gut. Another day, and you would once again have to face him. There was no escaping the man who came here to talk to you, and although you had heard him out last night, you knew that it wouldn’t be the last time he would try.

Helaena, being the sweet and wonderful friend that she was, trying to cheer you up, ran down to the kitchen and brought up a cool gel eye mask for you to put on. She made you sit up and put it on you with a small giggle, the frosty gel making your eyes tear involuntarily.

You sat there for a moment with the makeshift gel goggles on, watching as Helaena’s violet eyes probed yours. She knew Aemond had spoken to you. You were sure everyone knew something was going on, what with him running out after you once you left dinner and his constant vigilant gaze upon you.

You knew what she was going to ask, and yet you couldn’t help but sigh, “Ask whatever it is you’re busting to ask, Hel.”

The silver haired woman flopped down into bed, wavy hair fanned out on the pillow as she looked up at you, “Did you hear him out?”

“I did.”

She frowned at the lack of elaboration, “What did he say?”

You inhaled deeply through your nose as you scratched at the back of your head, lightly tugging your hair, “Apologised.” Helaena’s eyes lit up, “Said he wants me, but doesn’t know what to do.” You flopped down beside her, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

You were sure you looked as ridiculous as you felt.

“And what did you say?”

“That it wasn’t good enough for me.”

Helaena didn’t hum, or speak up again, and you could feel her encouraging gaze upon you, knowing she wanted you to elaborate, and so you did.

“I can’t just go into something with him if he doesn’t even know what he wants. You should have been there, Hel. He called me your roommate and nothing else to her, and now he turns up and decides he wants me but doesn’t know how?” You felt your gut twist in feeling inadequate, never enough, “I’m not going to be his rebound for him to figure out what he wants. If he wants me, he needs to do better than that. He needs to show me that he does. No more secrets, no more whispers in the dark of a room. He’s either all in, or I’m out.”

It felt good to get that off your chest, to let it out, to breathe the words that settled inside of you like a stone. If he wanted you, truly wanted you, he needed to show it. He needed to build that bridge. He needed to take the first steps, because you couldn’t hold his hand and guide him through that.

But in some ways, him coming all the way to the Keep to see you was a first step, but even then, you needed more.

“I need assurance that he isn’t just going to run off to her and leave me in the dirt. I need assurance that this isn’t just some game to him. I’m happy being single, don’t get me wrong, Hel. Cregan is really all I need to get shit out of my system, but there’s something more with Aemond. Something more than just sex.”

You cringed, turning to face her, expecting to see a grimace as you spoke about having sex with her brother. But there was no cringe in her features, only a look of understanding an empathy.

“Sorry, Hel. I know he’s your brother, and this is already weird.”

“My family is weirder.”

You chuckled softly, “I think I just need to go home. I want to go home and just pretend none of this happened.”

Helaena hummed, “You and me both.” Then as if realising her words, “I didn’t mean about you and Aem, I just mean in general. Mum is driving me up the wall.”

“Come back with me.”

“I can’t. I have to be here for them.” She rolled out of bed, moving to her wardrobe as she fished out some clothes for the day, “Only consolation is mum is gone, won’t be back until tomorrow, but that means Cole is with her. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow when they get back.”

You sat up, pulling the eye mask from your face, feeling far more refreshed than you wold have liked to admit. The puffiness from your eyes was gone, and you felt fresher, more alert and awake. Or perhaps that was from your conversation.

“That’s fine. This place is huge, I’m sure I won’t see him at all.”

Your previous statement proved to be false. Despite the sheer size of the Red Keep estate, Aemond seemed to pop up no matter where you were.

At the pool.

In the Library.

The Billiard Room were you played a game of pool with the boys.

No matter where you were, he always seemed to find you, eye searching you out immediately as he would slowly, and awkwardly, make his way toward you. You had dodged him thus far, leaving with an excuse to go to the bathroom, all but racing up to Helaena’s room, or saying that you were hungry, running to the large kitchen to sip at a glass of water.

It got to the point where it was simply ridiculous, and even the others seemed to notice his sudden appearance, and then your very sudden absence thereafter. It was like a game of tag, he would arrive and you would leave just before he could reach you, keeping that sweet distance safely between the two of you. Because if he were to say anything like he had the night before, you didn’t know if you would be able to keep yourself cool, calm and collected.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun beginning to roll down from the sky, where you found yourself in the gazebo at the end of the garden. It was large and open, chairs, lounges and tables all within, and Aegon had brought another bag of joints down with him.

You suspected that he most likely had a plant growing somewhere on the property. And the twins, with the help of their step-brothers, brought down a large esky.

With the presence of the two brunette haired boys, you likened that Aemond wouldn’t venture down to the Gazebo with the rest of you, thus your false sense of protection from he man.

Tomorrow you would leave, and then you would be safe to wallow in self pity as much as your heart desired.

There was a cool breeze that rolled through, but you were all relaxed for the most part, enjoying each others company with the music that played steadily out of Daeron’s portable speaker, drinking and smoking, and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

You had been rolling a cigarette, offering one to Aegon as he eyed your pouch greedily when Lucerys shifted in front of you, large brown eyes looking past your head. The younger man’s face changed, brows pulling and posture straightening. He was nervous. Dread settled in your gut. The only time that you had seen Luc react like this was when his uncle was around.

You turned in your seat, filter for your cigarette hanging from your lips, to see Aemond slowly making his way across the grass towards you.

“Aemond!” Aegon called out, lifting his half drunk beer, joint pinched between two fingers that held the bottle towards his younger brother, who made his way up the steps to the rest of you.

Your mouth felt dry, and you looked away just as his eye found you, scurrying to roll your cigarette and Aegon’s, using it as an excuse to look down into your lap and not up at the man who sat himself beside Aegon on the opposite side of you.

Movement caught your eye, and you lifted your gaze through your lashes, watching as Aemond plucked the joint from his brothers fingers, bringing it towards his plump lips, inhaling a long draw of the blunt. The ember lit and moved down the paper as he drew in, and you were annoyingly impressed that he had the lungs to hold it.

You looked back down at the tobacco in your lap, slowly filling the centre of the paper as you rolled it together between your pointers and thumbs, making a long, and neat cigarette.

You didn’t want to look up, but as soon as your tongue darted out to lick the paper to get it to stick, you could feel heat rising into your face as Aemond, unashamedly, watched. You reached out blindly, handing the cigarette to Aegon who thank you with a chirpy ‘Ta’, diverting your eyes back down to your lap to repeat the process.

Jacaerys, picking up on the tension, opted to speak to you, and only you, trying to keep your attention on him as he passed you over another can of some sweet drink Baela had brought with her. The whole time, you felt Aemond watching you.

Irritation boiled inside of you as you licked the cigarette closed, bringing it to hold between your lips as your hands patted down your lap and then sides for the lighter.

“Here.” Aegon caught your attention, leaning forward with his white lighter for you. You leant in, eyes on the flame as you inhaled to light the end of the smoke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled back, exhaling deeply, watching the smoke, trying to focus on the lyrics of the song instead of focusing on the way your skin prickled as you were being observed.

“In my imagination, you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

You turned to Daeron, “Really, Daer? Arctic Monkeys?”

The youngest son of Alicent turned to you and snorted, “It’s not my phone that’s connected.”

“What's wrong with the Arctic Monkeys?” Aegon huffed, joint back in his hands as he watched you with glassy, half-lidded eyes.

“Didn’t take you for a Tumblr girl, Eggy.” You teased, inhaling your smoke, ignoring the way his brother beside him stared at you pointedly.

“It’s what gets the girls hot and heavy, babe.” Aegon winked, and you could have sworn you saw Aemond’s body shift beside him.

Helaena gagged, “Such a slut, Egg.”

“Hey! No slut shaming in my house.”

Baela, being quick witted, jumped in, “But I thought you liked a little bit of shame?”

If you had thought Aegon’s flirty glances towards you were intense, the one he cheekily threw at Baela stilled your breath, “I love it all, Bae. Why are you interested?”

“You’re foul.”

“You love it.”

The tension somewhat diffused after that, but Aemond didn't join in on anyone else’s conversations, merely listened, and kept his eye on you. It was driving you, as Helaena would say, up the wall. You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or scream at him.

Maybe a bit of both to be honest.

You had gotten down to your third or fourth drink, sun right behind the horizon, a deep orange glow spreading across the estate, when Aemond finally came to do what he had clearly intended to all day.

He stood, and you stiffened, seeing in your periphery as he came to sit beside you on the other side, Helaena having gotten up to get another drink out of the esky, lost in giggles with Luc and Rhaena.

“Can we talk?” Aemond sat beside you, voice soft and quiet.

You hated that he was trying. You hated that he was trying because it meant that there was a chance that you could get hurt again. You just wished, in some sick part of you, that he would be horrible to you so you could just move on.

The cigarette moved in your lips as you murmured to him, the same words you had repeated over, and over despite their lack of integrity, keeping your eyes ahead, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/n, please. Don’t shut me out.”

Jace, being the ever perceptive man that he was, had noticed throughout the day your tension, and finally snapped, “Dude, back off. She clearly doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Aemond’s gaze snapped to his nephew across the gazebo, and all around you, the giggles of Rhaena and Helaena halted, and that inexplicable tension exploded into the space. It was like everyone held their breath, watching as Aemond’s lips pulled down into a sneer, “Mind your business, Jacaerys.”

The brunette sneered back, “No.” Hand extended towards you, “Look at her. She’s uncomfortable as hell-”

“-Jace, I-“ You tried to defuse the ticking time bomb that was building between uncle and nephew, but Jacaerys wasn’t having it.

“-Don’t pretend you’re not. You’ve been avoiding him all day.”

You swallow.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Aemond snapped, and even though he was irritated, you could tell he was trying his best to keep his body language calm and cold beside you.

To show you he wasn’t a threat.

Jacaerys shook his head, fingers strumming against the neck of his beer. Helaena’s eyes darted back and forth between brother and nephew, uncertain of what to do, mind running a million miles an hour as she evaluated the situation.

“It does if you’re making my friend uncomfortable.” The brunette scoffed, “I don’t know what you did to warrant her not wanting to speak to you, but you should take the hint.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck.

A sharp breath was blown through Aemond’s nose, “And you should take the ‘hint’ that this doesn’t concern you.”

Jacaerys shifted his eyes to you, warmth and concern bleeding into his features. In any other circumstance, you would have appreciated his defence of you, and even come to his side, but right now, you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n, do you want to talk to him?”

Did you?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Oh Gods.

You stayed quiet, not sure what you wanted. Talking would mean you would be let down again. Talking would mean you would have to have the same roundabout argument, your silly heart too stubborn and too sensitive to be hurt again.

Everyone watched as they waited for your answer, but Jacaerys, taking your momentary bout of silence, chimed in once again.

“See? she doesn’t-“

Aemond stood from his seat beside you, irritation rolling off of him in waves, “-Fuck off, Jacaerys. Learn whats good for you and mind your own.”

Jace shot up from his spot across the Gazebo, poor little Lucerys beside him standing with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Say that again.”

“I said, fuck off.” Aemond hissed.

“Woah. Okay! Maybe we should just-“ Aegon starts, but was quickly interrupted by Jacaerys.

“-Get your brother in line.” He barked at Aegon, whose glassy eyes widened, and pale brows rose up his forehead, “He’s been harassing her ever since he arrived.”

“Harassing?” Aemond fumed.

Oh for fucks sake.

This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

The son of Rhaenyra Targaryen narrowed his eyes on his uncle, and stepped towards him, “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Whatever you have to say to her, she clearly doesn’t want to hear it. Leave her alone.”

Aemond shifted, but didn’t step towards his younger nephew, staying firmly by your seated side, “What would you know about what I want to say to her? She can speak for herself.”

Oh, Aemond.

The brunette let out a humourless laugh, “Well she hasn’t spoken once yet.”

“Because you haven’t given me the chance!” You exploded, feeling all too overwhelmed with it all.

You didn’t want them to fight because of you.

You knew that this would happen. That their previous familial tension would be the underlying root of whatever this was.

But you didn’t want this.

You didn’t want everyone against Aemond.

Your brown haired friend, someone you adored immensely looked at you with impatience, “Do you want to speak with him?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“See? She doesn't even know. It's no secret you hate her-“

“-I love her!”

The air in the gazebo stilled.

The sound of blood rushing into your ears was loud, and you felt your heart beating against your ribs, desperate to escape as you felt it lurch into your throat. Your mouth opened, and a sharp inhale moved through you. You couldn’t think.

All eyes were on you again, and the silence was back, the previous song slowly rolling out, to give way to the next.

Helaena watched knowingly, as did Aegon, who relaxed beside you.

And what was more surprising, was that you could see the tension in Jacaerys’ shoulders slowly bleed from him, a blush blooming on his high cheeks.

Oh shit.

“I mean- I-“ Aemond breathed, gathering what was left of his composure, voice coming out less irritated than before, “Please, I just- I need to talk to her.”

Your mouth felt dry, and your palms sweaty. You couldn’t even look up at the man who stood beside you.

What the-

Helaena moved quickly towards her nephew, linking her arm in his as she began to lead him out of the gazebo, “Let's let these two talk, hm?”

Aegon stood and clapped his hands, “Let's go play some pool and let these two love birds sort out their little lovers spat.”

Your eyes widened at him.

Love birds?

Lovers spat?

You-

Wh-

You were completely, and utterly gobsmacked.

Love?

Loves you?

Slowly but surely, all left you and Aemond at the gazebo, and you desperately swallowed dryly, wishing you could run again. Jacaerys’ eyes gave you one last lingering gaze to see if you needed help, and it reminded you of the way you had been with Aemond not too long ago.

Pain strummed in your chest.

Then finally, you were alone.

Aemond jerked away from you pacing, brushing a nervous hand through his hair as you stay seated.

You didn’t even know if you could move.

Didn’t know if you could stand.

Didn’t even know if you could lift yourself even if you wanted. You had grown to the chair, and at the mercy of the silver haired man who walked briskly in front of you.

“Are you going to let me speak to you?”

“You’re already speaking.” You quipped back, nerves taking a hold of you just the same as it did to him.

Aemond’s gaze flicked to you, then back down to his hands which he clenched and unclenched, wiping them against his black slacks, clearly irritated and unsure.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” He stated.

You don't respond.

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed, “What do you mean 'why?'”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Gods, why was this the only fucking question he had?

Didn’t he have the wherewithal to figure the rest out?

It was as if his irritation bounced onto you, heat rising into your cheeks.

You snapped, “Because there is nothing to talk about!”

His violet eye narrowed on you as he turned to face you completely, hands at his sides, “Yes, there is.”

You shook your head, feeling that irritating little pull in your chest, and the even more irritating prickle in the back of your eyes, “No, there’s not. You made that abundantly clear. You don’t know what you want, Aemond.” You sighed sadly, looking away from him momentarily, anything to escape his piercing gaze, “You don’t even know if you really want me. This isn’t healthy. I’m not going to be your stepping stone from Alys.”

The man’s brows pulled down into a frown, “You’re not a stepping stone.”

“That's how I feel!” You felt like you were going to burst into tears, you didn’t want to show him this, you didn’t want him to feel your insecurities, but the words just kept coming, “I don’t feel wanted. I feel like an option. I don’t want to be an option to you.”

Aemond took a step towards you, hand out in front of him, palm up, “How can I make you feel that when you won’t talk to me? When you won’t let me show you. You’re not an option for me. It’s only you. If you would just let me speak to you-”

You stood up, moving away from him as you felt tears gather in your eyes, “You haven’t shown me that I can trust you. How do I know you won’t hurt me again? That she won’t just show up here? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Remember the first time we got involved? I can’t keep doing this and getting myself hurt, Aemond. I won’t.” You cast your eyes out to the horizon, the blanket of night falling across the realm, stars above beginning to twinkle in the darkness.

You heard Aemond come up from behind, “I’m done with her. For good. As it should have been. I haven’t seen her since that night.”

That night when he dismissed you.

That night when you ran here.

It sounded as though he was speaking about something that had happened, months, years ago, but in reality, was not that long ago. Mere days.

“And did she come back?” Your voice was small, and you felt embarrassment for impulsively asking one of your burning questions, something that had been eating away at you almost every night since you left.

“What?” There was disbelief in his tone, “No. I didn’t want her to come back. And then when I saw you were gone, I thought you went to Cregan’s or Sara’s. But then, you didn’t come back. And you wouldn’t respond.”

“Why was she there for so long?” You turned to face him, watching as his eye softened, before looking down sadly. You knew she was a hard topic, but so was this.

“Because we talked about everything. The abuse. The…grooming. All of it. I wanted her to know I didn’t want that anymore. I needed to prove to myself I didn’t. She just wouldn't stop.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t know? Why did you say that to me, Aemond? But suddenly now you know? Can you you see why I’m so lost?”

Aemond lip was pulled into his mouth as he bit at it nervously, “Because I didn’t. It was an intense conversation to have right after her, Y/n. And you deserved my full capacity, deserve my full capacity, which I didn’t have in that moment. I needed to grieve, and I felt like I was being pushed into talking.” His voice became, softer, and you watched as his hands flexed beside him, itching to do something with them as a distraction, “I didn’t know what way was up, or what to think. It felt like my mind was put into a blender. I felt everything and nothing all at once.”

Gods damn him.

Why was this so hard.

An ache spread in your chest for him, for everything that he had been through.

“I wasn’t pushing you," You shook your head softly, "I would never do that to you.” You sympathised, feeling slightly guilty, “I just wanted to know where we stood.”

“Stood?”

Of course he would pick up on that.

Past tense.

You sighed, threading a hand through your hair, “I’m not going to be your experiment, Aemond.” The man’s head reared back in disbelief at your words, “I’m not going to be your fixer upper. Or your new start. I’m not putting my all into something when the other person doesn’t even know what they want from me.”

“I do know.” Aemond corrected you, head cocked to the side, eye imploring you to understand.

In any other circumstance you would be a puddle on the floor.

“But you said-”

“-I know what I said.” He interrupted you, “And I thought on it. I know what I want. I want you. But I just don’t know how.”

“This is the issue!” You threw your hands up in frustration.

Gods strike me down.

It was the same thing, over and over. He wants you but doesn’t know how.

As a friend?

As a roommate?

As a lover?

What did he want from you?

Not even he fucking knew.

You stormed away, a lone tear falling down your cheek as you brushed it away angrily, jogging down the steps of the gazebo as you made your way back inside of the Keep. You passed Helaena and Jacaerys who stood in the kitchen, eyes wide as they watched you speed right past them, Aemond trailing behind you, hot on your tail.

Jacaerys moved to come towards you, to ask if you were okay, but you snapped at him, hand up, “Don’t.”

You kept on, desperate to get to some privacy where you could actually let it all out. Cry and scream, and kick and shout, and then fix your makeup and head back downstairs, and if Aemond came again, you would let Jacaerys give it to him out of spite.

Aemond jogged after you, coming around the corner of the entrance that had a large staircase that wound up to the higher levels. “Let me finish.” He puffed, “I don’t know how to assure you that I want you, or how to promise you that I won’t hurt you.”

You spun back and sneered at him, “And that's not good enough for me, Aemond.”

You watched as he flinched back slightly, and your face softened.

Fuck.

Goddamn it.

You hoped the regretful look on your face soothed his anxiety momentarily before you kept on, pace getting faster once more.

“What if I got on my knees and begged.”

You blinked.

The memory of the joke that had been uttered in your apartment floated to the front of your mind. The sides of your lips twitched, but that short lived happiness and fondness was squashed at the reminder of why you were having this conversation in the first place.

You turned, finding Aemond dangerously close at the top of the stairs, his eye narrowed on you as both of your chests heaved, “No. I’m tired of being used by you.”

“I’m not using you.” He took a step froward.

You took a step back.

“Oh no? So I’m suddenly not ‘Helaena’s roommate’.”

You knew you were being childish, but you couldn’t stop it.

“I said I’m sorry.” His voice sounded strained, almost coming out as a growl.

You shook your head at him, “Just stay away from me.” You turned away heading down the hall to her room, “You can get your things from th-“

A large palm wrapped around your elbow and spun you.

Soft lips crashed into yours and you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as he pushed you backwards into a wall, all teeth and tongue. A warmth spread through you, and as your mind caught up with you finally, you kissed him back, biting at his lip roughly in anger.

Your hands wove into his hair and pulled at it meanly, hearing a grunt fall into your lips as he pressed into your body with all his weight, smothering you, covering you, claiming you.

Aemond’s hands held the side of your neck before skating down your body, grabbing at your waist and hips, before sliding behind to pinch at your bum.

A moan flittered from your chest as heat settled in your gut, a wetness beginning to seep into your underwear.

With stumbling steps, Aemond guided you backwards, the two of you clawing and nipping at each other breathlessly, pent up anger and frustration pouring into your bones.

The wall behind you fell through, having been a door Aemond opened, and you parted momentarily as you stepped backwards, his large boot kicking the door shut as he grasped your cheeks, pulling you back to him. He continued to walk you backwards, your feet stumbling on the edge of a rug.

The world spun as Aemond shoved you backwards, eyes popping open as you landed onto his bed with a squeak. Your eyes took him in, and then the room. It was similar to Helaena’s, but only dark greens and black.

A room which looked like hadn’t had someone in it for a very long time.

Aemond had taken you to his old room.

He stood in front of you, chest heaving, eye narrowed on your form as his hands moved to his belt, roughly unclasping it, sliding the long length through his belt loops with a snap. Your legs clenched together as you watched him unbutton his shirt, his pupil having swallowed his iris whole, leaving an inky black look of desire as he devoured you with his eye.

Once his shirt was off, he kicked of his shoes and socks, and then he was on you again, lips and body pressing you down into the soft duvet that covered his sheets, a long groan peeling from his chest as he gripped your hair tightly, grinding his hardened length against your covered core.

You whined, hands flying down to the button and zipper of his pants as he ripped at your clothes, tearing them off of you until you were laid bare beneath him.

He looked down at you hungrily, tongue peeking out of his lips to wet them as he murmured at you, “So beautiful.”

Your hands found his zip and yanked it down, fingers diving under the elastic of his pants to grasp at his girth. You gave him a rough squeeze, arching up to nip at his bottom lip. A hiss came from between his clenched teeth before he gently batted your hand away, sliding off of the bed as he tugged you roughly towards him with a squeak.

He parted your legs hastily, eye immediately locked on your slick folds. You tried to close your legs, feeling heat bloom in your chest, but his hands prevented you, that and his hardened stare as he leant down and licked a broad swipe up through your folds.

Your back arched off of the bed as you whined, pleasure sparking through you. Your hands flew down and grasped his hair, tugging him towards your centre as he began to lick and suckle at your clit. He hummed into it, placing nips into your inner thighs and kisses against the sensitive nub.

It was too much.

All that pent up emotion.

The waiting.

The wanting.

The hurting.

The yearning.

And now he was back between your thighs, rubbing a long digit through your folds until he pushed it inside of your entrance, curling it upwards to rub against the spongey patch within. You jerked as warmth shot up through you, your core clenching around his digit, before he added another.

“So fucking tight and wet.” He moaned, head dipping back down to suckle at your clit whilst he fucked you on his fingers, “Such a perfect pussy.”

The room was filled with the slick sound of your heat and your moans as you writhed atop his bed, the coil within you winding increasingly tighter with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers.

It was raw. It was primal. And it was a flurry of desperation.

He came away from your core, crawling up your body as he kicked off his pants and briefs, “Want to feel you cum around me.” He breathed against your lips, settling himself between your thighs as you lifted your hip up to meet his tip, which he fisted in one hand.

He didn’t spare a second to check in, to see if you were ready, before slamming himself inside, his pace immediately fast and hard as he rutted against you desperately. You cried out, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as each snap of his hips drove you up the bed, your walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck.” He hissed, feeling the way you tightened around him as he changed the angle to drive his hips deeper, lifting one of your thighs to wrap around his hip, fingers digging into your flesh in a way you knew there would be bruises come morning.

“Please.” You whined beneath him, chest arching up to brush against him, nipples pebbled in arousal.

“Please, what?” He smirked, purposely slowing his thrusts.

You tilted your hips upwards to try and increase the pace before you huffed, “Please, need to cum.”

Aemond dipped his head, kissing your cheek softly, the first sign of affection, “You’ll cum, baby, be patient for daddy.”

He fucked into you harder, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked down to where you were connected, watching as his length disappeared into your slick folds over and over, your arousal coating his shaft and your thighs in a way that glimmered in the low light of the room.

You chased his lips, bringing him back into a passionate kiss, feeling his tongue slide over yours, chasing you desperately as you deepened for him, feeling your chest flutter, and your cunt pulse.

His hand found its way to the side of your cheek as he fucked you, breaking the embrace to look down at you.

There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, silver stands sticking to the side of his face as the rest dangled over his shoulders messily. His eye bore into your own, and you watched as his pupil dilated further, a blush creeping on his cheeks as his thrusts faltered.

“I want you.” He whispered, “Only you.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as you turned your face into his palm feeling overwhelmed by his gaze, his words, and the way his cock drilled so perfectly into your cunt.

“‘M close.” You panted, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you pulled him down closer to you, wanting him to be closer, needing him to be pressed against you entirely.

His scent surrounded you, and you felt safer, calmer, and ready to burst.

You were so close.

So close.

“’S perfect, baby. Cum for me.” He groaned, his pace beginning to falter, hand still against your cheek and neck, holding you in place as he watched you come undone beneath him.

You came with a cry, eyes scrunched shut as he grunted, warmth immediately flooding you as he came with you. Pleasure erupted through your body, your walls fluttering around his length as he fucked himself through the both of your highs, prolonging it.

His weight pressed down onto you from above as you both breathed heavily, his hips finally stilling as you felt his length throbbing inside of you. Aemond's thumb brushed against your cheek, gently, back and forth, back and forth, soothing you as you refused to look back at him, keeping your eyes shut.

You didn’t dare open your eyes, you didn’t even know if you could, but if you did, you would have been met with the loving and gentle gaze of Aemond, a warm glow on his cheeks.

Pulling back, Aemond slid himself from your warmth and you both hissed quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. But you were too tired to talk, too tired to argue, too tired to even think about what this meant.

He wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the sheets over the both of you as he tucked your head beneath his chin.

You curled up against him, enjoying the familiarity of his warmth and the safety that he gave you.

Fingertips brushed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake, until slowly but surely, the moment slowed, and his breathing evened out. Your eyes adjusted to the low lit room, as you took it all in, breathing in time with the man beside you.

Your throat felt tight.

The lump you wished you could remove with your own hands, growing in the back of your throat.

Your chest grew tight, and there it was once again, the prickling in your eyes as tears threatened to rise.

As carefully as you could, you slid out of the bed, halting each time his breath would change, or he would move, careful to not wake him. When you stood beside the bed, you looked down at him as you put your clothes back on.

He looked at peace.

Calm.

And so, gods be damned, beautiful.

Silver hair that had a slight wave to it now was nestled around his head on the pillow, small strands falling down his face over his seeing eye. Those plump lips you loved to kiss were slightly parted as he slept, breathing in through them and the sharp nose above.

Your heart ached as you watched him.

You didn’t know what to do.

You both clearly wanted each other, but you were scared of getting hurt.

Aemond said he had made up his mind, but had you?

You snuck out of his room and into Helaena’s, crawling into bed beside her. She blinked at you sleepily before rolling over to go back to her dreams.

You found you could barely sleep, mind occupied with only one thing;

Him.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

@mrstargayen09 @iamavailablesstuff @malfoytargaryen @hogwarts1207 @diannnnsss @seni039 @qyburnsghost @anehkael @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @watercolorskyy @skikikikiikhhjuuh @toodlesxcuddles @kaelatargaryen @aemonds-fire @anitazut @melsunshine @persephonerinyes @wintrr13@arcielee @coffedraven @happinessinthebeing @zairishmya @hanula18 @lovejustlovelythings-blog @harryssunflxwer @spinachtz @bellaisasleep @aemshaircare @heavenly1927 @yentroucnagol @snh96 @thedamewithabook @hanula18 @sweethoneyblossom1 @siriusblackrunmeover17 @yentroucnagol @urmomsgirlfriend1 @carriellie @ipostwhtifeel@queenofshinigamis @toodlesxcuddles @the-common-cowgirl@ladymarg0t @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion @diiickbrainn @rawrxbexjealous @virtualsweetsqueen @adeliciouslysaltybitch @tsujifreya @boofy1998 @docmartinis @rabbit-reveries @bel-bottoms @padfooteyes @cryingforlife

Bold is who I cannot tag

558 notes · View notes

sharkiethrts · 5 months

Text

short prompt: dancing and singing ('vulgar', as sunday would call it) songs with sunday

relations: sunday x reader, robin mentioned at the end!

Notes: modern au. Highschool prom au? You can interpret this however- even Sunday going to a club for the first time (how did you convince him, even?) Nevermind, maybe a house party is more fitting? Sunday doesn't have his wings here since it's supposed to be modern au. Did not reread this by the way, so grammatical errors wouldn't be surprising.

warnings: borderline suggestive??? to be honest, it's just the lyrics of 'california girls' that you should be worried about haha Reader is gender neutral by the way (but if there is any insinuated of gender in the story I may have missed, please correct me!)

-------------

Walking into the crowded room, the blaring music and the rising temperature caused by the throng of students accumulating in one spot overtakes you. You try to stand on your tiptoes, eyes squinting to gauge how far you are from your goal- the dancefloor. You're far. Like, remarkably far.

You had planned to enter much earlier, discarding your coat at the coat-rack placed not-so-meticulously at an inconvenient spot behind the door, yet your diligent partner just couldn't let it be. Although Sunday has tried to seem more laidback while he was courting you (as he'd call it, you tried to call it 'chase' once, while abbreviating the blooms of your love story to your friends at a housewarming party, but he cut you off rather curtly- claiming that it made him sound predatory- he seemed offended when you laughed at that).

Nevertheless, he went on to smoothing out both your coats, folding them (in a way you've only seen store employees do) carefully and then stuffing them into a bag he had brought. The bag is then hung carefully at the middle of the rack, careful to not trip the other clumsily placed jackets of your mutual friends (some unknown to you, you realise now- Jess has always been popular).

You swear that he would have done the same to the rest of the coats if it weren't for the fact you pulled him incessantly by his arm, shooting him pouting looks and an annoyed cry.

You shoot your partner a brief glare, he returns a confused look right back at you but not bothering to ask for further details- you do have quite the idiosyncrasy only belonging to you, he reasons. Your interaction is cut short by the switch of the songs. Sunday seemed rather disappointed, it had been Robin's newest song after all. But it seems that you two came in too late (you'd pity him if it weren't for him suffering from the consequences of his own actions).

You, however, are absolutely beaming. California Girls.

You pulled him by his sleeve (you're not quite sure why he chose a stiff button-up for this occasion, but then again- you don't think he has any other attire that'd be suitable for this), "You sing right?" You say over the noise.

"What?" He doesn't seem to hear.

"You sing! You told me before- you were in a choir!" You scream this time, he seems to understand now- shaking his head to refuse.

"Sippin gin and juice!" You ignore him, taking the lead. He shakes his head, saying something like how it's too 'vulgar' and how the 'lyrics are disrespectful and have objectifying undertones'. You roll your eyes, "Tryna creep a little sneak peek- At us!"

You encourage him more, flashing your most earnest look (you do feel rather earnest, the only time you've ever heard him sing was when you had a nightmare, he had hummed you to sleep- but other than that? Nothing else. No lyrics, no nothing. Since then, you have been rather adamant on pushing more out of him.

He seems to have been convinced (weak, you'd tease- if it weren't for the fact that Sunday is petty enough to never sing again just for that) and you wait for him to join in, "But nothing comes close to the golden coast," Your eyes gleam at the gentle tune of his voice, with an expertly tuned technique. He makes this song sounds holy, even.

"Once you party with us," You lead on, leaning in with a teasing push on your knees, your hands moving to grasp at his shoulders. He reciprocates by holding onto your back, completing your line, "You'll be falling in love"

Exhilarated by his concession, you let out an off tune and off time plethoras of 'oh's, to which he had laughed at- eyes wrinkled and head slightly thrown back- messing up his neatly combed long hair.

You grin. This was going to be a night.

You grip at his hand with your other, feeling the clammy surface of it. You realise he's nervous, baring his feelings like no other. He must be unfamiliar with the closeness of it all, with the downright sexual lyrics spilling out of his mouth at this point.

You lean in by his ear, breath hitting where he shivers.

"Sex on the beach," His cheeks bloom red- alongside with his ears that now look bruised in purple and red. He tries to pull back, definitely to scold you for your 'indecency'. You don't let him, ". We don't mind sand in our stilettos."

By the end of the night, you forgot your coats at the rack, walking home singing your surfeit of Katy Perry songs.

You remember to film a clip of Sunday belting the lyrics of 'Last Friday Night'. To which you sent to Robin, where she responded with long series of questions.

Funny, to think that you had been to shy to ever talk to her before this. Where she had given you her phone number when Sunday had first introduced you in a cafe. You had thought that she was just exchanging polite platitudes, to which Sunday refuted that Robin had been genuinely lonely.

With her excited response, you finally start to believe him.

'Send me more! You have more, right?!' to 'Where were you? Invite me next time! We should go together!"

You grin, it's the next morning (scratch that, it's one) and your feet are sore from the dancing (Sunday had spun you around once, you think he told you- 'it's my rendition of the galopede of the 1820s').

You call her, to which she picks up immediately, "He vomited the moment we came home," Was the first thing you said.

She understood you immediately, "He drank?"

"Vodka. Even took his part in games- won his first note, I'd wager."

You spent the whole afternoon recounting the night to her, to which she swooned and battered you up for more.

"Ah." You paused for a second.

"What is it?!" By this point, Robin has forgotten about her upcoming rehearsal in fifteen, to which she always comes thirty minutes early. She missed that mark fifteen minutes ago.

"I think we may have left our coats at Jess' house."

Robin completely lost it at that. So worth it.

#sunday is happy at you and robins recent developments but #remains unaware of you completely tarnishing his cool princely older brother charm #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #hsr modern au #robin hsr #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fluff #sharkie works ; all honkai

171 notes · View notes

musubi-sama · 5 months

Text

Game of Chicken

Satoru invited you to a club to see his favorite band play. But you have a boyfriend, so surely you can win this game of chicken?

CW: afab!reader x gojo satoru, modern au no curses, outdoor sex, piv, cunnilingus, DP if you squint.

AN: Shoutout to @/bunny584 and @/pseudowho for helping with two key elements! You two are amazing and I look up to you! And guess the name of the song and band I used.

WC: 5.1k | Link to AO3 if you prefer

~~~

Trying to quell the shivers of excitement and nerves, you focus on the road ahead of you. Glancing momentarily at the digital nav on your console, you change lanes in preparation to take the next exit. As you exit the freeway, you see another message arrive from Satoru.

>> Text me when you’ve parked and I’ll come down

You hadn’t planned on going out tonight, especially not planning to drive into the city and meet up with a new friend to go see a band at a local club. But when he sent you a text in the afternoon gauging your plans and interest, you all too eagerly responded yes.

Before you left for the evening, you sent off a message to your boyfriend:

<< going to Murasaki tonight, don’t wait up <3

An otherwise unremarkable drive, you spent the 30-minute trip with your music uncharacteristically low and your hands uncharacteristically fidgety on your steering wheel.

You’re just going to see a band with a friend. A friend, that you told your ridiculously tall, tanned, and handsome boyfriend about. A friend, whom your boyfriend assured you he is not worried about - you or him.

But each flick of the passing streetlights dances over your ticking hands gliding over the steering wheel. Light catches on the demure set of silver-shining rings your boyfriend bought you recently. They match a pair he wears on his right hand, while yours are thinner and more feminine for your left hand. The hands you hold when you’re sitting at home or walking around town.

Reaching Satoru’s building, you slip into the open visitor parking spot in the underground lot. Hopping out of your car, taking a deep breath to attempt to quell your nerves and quiet your hands, you send off a quick message:

<< hheree!

Damn your shaky hands! Again, sending off messages too quickly before you think.

A moment later after arriving in the cavernous, brutalist lobby, a shock of white hair attached to a tall, lanky body pops out of the elevator. Satoru is sporting a black and pink color block shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, distressed designer denim sitting perfectly on his hips and a sleek leather belt.

“Hey. Hi. C’mon up. How was the drive?” he says as you approach the elevator.

“The directions on the app sent me half-way around the city just to avoid the local roads,” you respond exasperated as you step into the elevator. The button for floor 41 is illuminated.

Satoru stands directly across from you and in a moment, you get a whiff of his sweet scent of vanilla and cherry. You’re fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and the lengths of necklace decorating your plunging neckline as you ride up the quiet elevator. It’s not like you’ve never spent time in a penthouse, in fact your boyfriend lives in one not too fa-.

Your thoughts are cut off as the elevator dings and opens up to a sprawling, blue and silver post-modern penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. Satoru’s hand is resting in the space of your lower back, heat radiating into you but not quite making contact.

“Do you want a drink? We don’t need to leave just yet,” Satoru slips past you to the well-appointed bar area of his sprawling kitchen. A chill is left in the space where his hand sat, and it slides up your spine.

“Dirty martini, gin, if you have it would be lovely,” you take a seat at the oversized kitchen island seating. A drink will calm your nerves.

You’ve known Satoru for about a month, having met while in line for the deli counter during lunch. You both ordered sandwiches, then walked over to the drink cooler and tried to reach for the same can of seltzer, and somehow ended up next to each other at the register. After deciding to grab a seat and eat together, you exchange contact information and meet up for lunch weekly.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, Satoru carefully followed you around the deli creating “accidental” run-ins with you just so that he could sit down with you over lunch. A known playboy in the city, he was thinking only with his dick and with a goal in mind when he ran into you. And if tonight went well, you would be another notch in his bed post. And, if he played his cards right, a recurring one.

Satoru spent his entire life being gifted with everything. He owned the building you were standing in; his entire life was crafted for him specifically. Satoru only chose two things - his best friends and his sexual partners.

Satoru flashes a quick raised eyebrow at the request but quickly moves to grab the ingredients and set to mixing, “How many olives?”

“Hmm, four, please!”

You take in the view of the city from your perch. Even though it’s dark outside, you can still get a decent view as the lights are dimmed in the rest of the suite.

“Your drink,” Satoru slides the chilled and dangerously filled martini glass sitting atop a coaster across the shiny marble countertop towards you, not spilling a drop. He sits an old fashioned with four Luxardo cherries on a cocktail skewer in front of himself.

Satoru lifts his glass to yours, “kanpai!” as you gently bump your glasses together, still not spilling a drop. You take a quick sip and hum in satisfaction as the savory bite coats your tongue. You take a second, much larger sip before setting down your glass and picking up the skewer of olives.

“So,” you bite one olive off the stick, “who are we going to see tonight?”

The game of chicken has officially begun. You lay your first trap, shiny and red lips sliding around the piked olives.

“My best friend is the bassist in Jujutsu Kaisen and they’re playing a secret show tonight downtown.” Satoru follows your tease with a nip of the cherry from his own glass.

“Is this how you impress all your girls? With secret shows of mega stars?” another olive bitten.

“It’s not always girls,” he gives you a wink as he leans over the island, resting his head on his arm propped up by his elbow. The last two olives slip off the skewer because you need something to do with your agape mouth.

Winner of the game: whoever breaks second. You were going to win. You had to. You have a boyfriend, but you sure planned to enjoy the harmless chase. If you can chill out enough to enjoy it. The gin is really helping, though.

Stepping out of the building, Satoru leads you over to a luxury black car waiting for you and a driver holding the door open.

“This is too much, I thought you said we were just going to a bar to see a band?” you said incredulously, looking back at Satoru.

“We are. Ichiji is my personal valet. After you,” he waves you into the car and you slide in across the supple leather seats.

Satoru doesn’t think twice about how this looks. To him, this is standard operating procedure. He’d never considered any other way to get around the city. And of course, he asked Ichiji to use the sportier model today.

You take in the sights of the city as you take the quick 10-minute trip across downtown into the industrial district. Ichiji pulls up to a brightly lit club with a few throngs of people milling about.

Satoru leads you to the door, flashes something on his phone to the bouncer, and you’re both waved in. Sliding across the room to a pair of seats on the side of the club and a great view of the stage. Satoru slips away to grab you both drinks from the bar, returning after a few moments.

“My favorite shot to start the night, Red Headed Sluts,” he passes the shooter to you and you both take it in a single swallow. A small dribble leaks from the corner of your mouth. Satoru reaches over to wipe it off with his thumb, proceeding to lick it off while maintaining eye contact. You blush and immediately turn your head, trying not to look at Satoru after that.

Damn, lost that round. Focus, dammit.

Satoru slipped away again to return the shot glasses to the bar and get more drinks; this time a beer for you.

Checking the time, it’s almost time for the band to go on. The crowd has quickly started to fill in and you are developing a nice buzz, your head starting to feel a bit cloudy and suggestible.

The band comes out to roars from the crowd and you join in. Satoru stands behind you, one hand again hovering at your lower back. As they start their set, you get caught up in the music and fail to notice your date disappearing occasionally to keep your drink filled.

Each time he returns, his arms slowly reach up your body to rest on your shoulders. You’re in control, put your hands on his to make sure they don’t drift any further.

Then they encircle your shoulders, and you’re standing. Swaying your hips with the beat, lipstick marks on your glass appear with increasing regularity as you try to distract yourself. You’re playing against a master.

And slowly, Satoru’s arms reach down across your chest. By some definitions you have lost. But by the imaginary rules in your head, you move the goalposts. All is not lost. Other than your brain, in the moment. The band starts up a ballad, powerful chords racing through your veins, melodic lyrics and a stunning harmony between the lead singer and the bassist.

Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto, bassist of the band. His thick black hair, half pulled up into a bun, stretching down to his mid back, and bangs framing his face. Tall, broad and you can see the edges of tattoos extending across the edges of his shoulders into his bare chest. He has thick eyeliner, dark eyes, and a pair of sharkbites and large plug ear piercings to decorate his fierce face.

You’re going to lose the battle if you aren’t careful. Satoru, well-practiced in this game of cat and mouse knows that you are a timid mouse he needs to delicately trap if he wants to win.

An hour into the set, you are feeling incredibly buzzed, teetering on drunk. As the last song before the break starts, Satoru is now in front of you, standing between your legs and his arms are on your hips. His piercing blue eyes gazing down at you. There’s a slight smirk in his mouth as he slowly leans down. One hand traced its way up your side to pinch your chin and guide your lips to his.

Just before your mouths connect, you open your mouth to protest this moment. You have a boyfriend, what are you doing? This isn’t right, you’re already breaking so many rules. You need to stop, put distance between the two of you and keep it platonic.

But the song ends, music stops, the lights come up, and the band walks off stage for a short break. The crowds shift and move toward the bar, the door, and the bathrooms. You stand up abruptly, chest heaving, and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Some water on your face and a refresh of your makeup should help you calm down and fix this.

Standing at the sink, you take in yourself. You can do this, you can win.

Satoru grabs your drink to take a sip and finish it off. His pocket buzzing, he sees a text message from Suguru.

>> If you don’t fuck her tonight, I swear to god

Satoru chuckles and tips the beer bottle towards the now empty stage. The intended goal tonight was to do as much, at this point he just needed to convince you that you wanted this as much as he does.

You return after a long wait for the bathroom and with another drink. You’ve managed to calm yourself and you sit back down next to Satoru.

“Feeling better?” Satoru asks you as he places a hand leaning on your shoulder, just close enough to not touch your earlobe.

You shiver, unable to look him in the eye for more than a millisecond. “Y-yeah. I should probably drink some water,” you trail off. Satoru, already planning for that request, hands you a cup of water from the counter next to you. You take a long sip and the cold drink switches your nerves for cold shivers.

The lights flicker, indicating that the band is about to return to the stage. You join the crowd in cheering, focusing on the band and not the building desire burning between your legs. You’re here to see a band, and you have a boyfriend, one who satisfies you in ways you’d never even dreamed of. But there was something so enticing about what was standing right here, arms resting across your shoulders.

Hands drifting down from around your décolletage to brush the glittering peak of your breasts.

You arch your back slightly at the sensation, breath heavy with lust. Looking up and trying to focus on the concert, the bassist is singing into the mic, but his eyes are trained on you. Surely, he’s just scanning the crowd or looking for his friend, right?

But I'm only dancing / She turns me on But don't get me wrong / I'm only dancing

Your heart skips another beat, and you blush, tilting your head back and finishing off the drink.

Accepting that you’ve lost, you swallow your nerves and lean into the touch Satoru is giving you. Tilting your head back, you reach up to meet Satoru’s waiting lips. You take control and push your tongue into his mouth, taking your pleasure from him. Letting the alcohol suppress your inhibitions as you place your hands on Satoru’s while they continue to squeeze and massage your tits.

You pull away from the kiss. High from the adrenaline after jumping off the cliff.

“I need to tell you…” you trail off.

Satoru slides around to return between your seated legs.

“I don’t care, just don’t tell me about him.” Throbbing between your legs now taking over for all rational thought.

Satoru immediately leans down to leave a trail of increasingly stronger kisses along your neck. You stretch to give him better access. Your hands slip around the back of his head, scratching and pulling the nape of his neck and along his undercut. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you moan into his ear and bite down on his earlobe as you pull back.

“Let’s-let’s get going, back to my place,” Satoru doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool and head out the door. As you leave, you noticed the bassist still has his eyes trained on you.

You stand outside while Satoru gives Ijichi a call to come around with the car, only waiting a few minutes. Those minutes are filled with very handsy kissing until you hear a cough, signaling Ijichi’s arrival and gesture to get into the car.

Satoru slides in the car first and pulls you onto his lap straddling him. You look back towards the driver’s seat but before you can protest, you’re cut off.

“You didn’t have a problem when we were back there in the club. You even seemed to want to be seen by Suguru,” he taunts and gives your ass a hard slap.

Even in the darkness of the car, with the passing streetlights, he could see your blush.

“C’mon baby, let’s just have fun, okay? Don’t think too hard about it. Besides, it was hot seeing you show off for Sugu back there,” Satoru grinds up into you and you can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

Satoru is enjoying the chase tonight. Trying out new tricks, using old ones that have gathered dust. You’re fun to chase. Are you as much fun to capture?

You spend the rest of the, mercifully short, ride back to his penthouse slowly winding your hips across his crotch, hands resting on his chest as you tease and show off your form. Finding little relief on your own tortured arousal.

Once you arrive at Satoru’s building, the two of you stumble out of the car and into the elevator. Before the doors close, Satoru pushes you up against the back wall and slots his muscular thigh between your legs. You can’t help yourself but grind on his leg as his hands pull down the front of your shirt and exposing your lacy bra. He reaches in and pinches your nipples; you keen at the touch, sucking in a sharp inhale of air.

“Are you even going to make it to my floor?” he teases you, pushing his leg harder against your throbbing, clothed cunt.

All you can do in response is moan obscenely. At this point every drop of inhibition is gone and you push back on his chest causing him to step back from you. You use this moment to drop to your knees and begin to unhook his belt.

“No,” you exhale as you begin to palm his straining erection almost painfully pressing against the seams of his pants. You unbutton his pants as he starts to run his hands through your hair, but the elevator arrives at his floor, and you hear a soft ‘ding’ when the doors open.

Disappointed, you stand up quickly and shuffle into Satoru’s suite, adjusting yourself back into your shirt, kicking your shoes off at the door and dropping your purse. You check your phone and see a message from your boyfriend:

>>> have fun ;)

You immediately stuff the phone in your dropped purse in a panic. But as soon as you bend down, you feel a pair of hands around your ass and a clothed erection pressed up against you.

“You’re making it too easy, baby,” Satoru croons into your ear and you roll yourself up to standing holding contact.

“Are you complaining?” your pussy pulses as he continues to grab your ass with one hand and snakes the other around your abdomen and pulls you in tighter. Satoru leans in to take a nip at your neck before releasing you and walking over to the door for the veranda.

You follow in his wake, eager to see the view of the city from here. The chill of the midsummer night washes over you, but just as quickly, Satoru approaches you at the railing and engulfs your body with his.

He doesn’t waste any time sliding his hands up your shirt, unclasping your bra, and removing both in one fell swoop. Satoru drops your items on the edge of the balcony before spinning you around and kneeling before you to remove your shorts.

Oh, he looks stunning from this angle. Subservient but dominating in power. Another trick he hasn’t played in a while.

You rest the back of your forearms against the balcony, spreading your legs slightly once your shorts are off. Head buried in the ozone of lust and anticipation.

You slip one leg over Satoru’s shoulder as he leans up to whisper a touch of his nose to your clothed cunt as he inhales your sweet scent of arousal.

He palms his restrained cock as his free hand rubs over your needy bud, eliciting a whiny moan from you. Seeing how soaked your little, useless, thong is, he hooks his finger onto the scrap of fabric and pulls it aside.

You use your heel to push Satoru closer to you and he eagerly obliges. Placing his hands on each thigh, he spreads your legs more to gain easier access to your dripping pussy.

Satoru licks a long stripe up your cunt, gathering your copious arousal on his tongue. Coming back again, he takes his middle finger and teases your hole eagerly clenching around nothing. Focusing his tongue on your aching nib, he adds a second finger and you let out another strained whine. He slowly slides his fingers in and out, twisting his hand and curling the tips to drag against that spongy spot deep inside you. You buck at the pace of his ministrations, moans getting louder with each thrust.

The pressure is building in your core, your heel is digging in even more to Satoru’s back. He moans into you, the vibrations traveling up your spine through the ends of your hair.

“C’mon baby, give it to me,” Satoru moans into you. His fingers speeding up, one arm reaching around your waist, tongue pushing directly and lips sucking on your pulsing clit.

The sensations reach a fever pitch, and you scream out as your orgasm takes you. Your hips jut wildly, your hands grip the railing of the veranda, and you throw your head back as the electric shock runs through your body.

Once you have regained some semblance of control over your body again, you slide your leg off Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru pulls his fingers out and sits back on his heels once your leg releases him. Licking his fingers clean with a moan, savoring your taste.

Satoru stands up and cages you in against the railing, urgently crashing his lips on yours, sharing your taste covering his tongue, lips, and chin. You eagerly accept, moaning into him as you lightly bite his invading tongue.

“How about we move this somewhere more comfortable?” Satoru grabs your hand and leads you back inside.

He brings you down the hall to his bedroom, dim lighting accentuating his aethereal features. You fall back into the plush bedding while the bed dips with a shirtless Satoru sitting behind you, legs on either side of your body.

Rolling over and sitting on your knees, you gently push Satoru’s chest allowing him to fall backwards. Nimble hands slide their way back down his abdomen, following the dips and peaks. What luck of the genetic lottery did he win to have such divine musculature.

You quickly finish the job you started in the elevator and remove his pants. Running your hand over his twitching erection restrained by his tight black boxer briefs, you give a few squeezes before you quickly rid him of the final layer.

All ten inches of his veiny cock spring free and slap against his abdomen. Your nerves suddenly come crashing back. But this time, it’s over how you’ll be able to take all of Satoru in you. You look up and see a shit eating grin on Satoru, arms resting behind his head.

You’re not the first person to gawk over his size. Aside from the obvious prizes for winning this game, the stunned moments his dates share compete for this reward.

You grasp the base of his cock and start to slowly stroke up to the tip, gathering his leaking precum as you slide your hand back down. After several strokes, you slide your hips over his and line up your wet cunt with his angry red tip.

Satoru places his hands on your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down. All the teasing, the anticipation, the yearning has built to this moment.

“There you go, doll. Take it easy,” he chuckles as you gasp. Feeling full and it’s only barely halfway in, you let out a shakey moan. Bottoming out, you hold still for a moment before slowly rocking your hips back and forth. Savoring the fullness and depth he’s reached inside of you.

Locking eyes, you throw your head back, hair flying back in a splash as you pick up speed, taking control of your pleasure. You’ll deal with the consequences in the morning, the fun of chasing and capturing this apex specimen has you enthralled.

Sliding your hands up your body, giving in to the rhythm, you pinch your nipples and let your full tits fall and shake.

In an instant, a blink, and your world flips around and suddenly your chest is in the plush bed, a hand under your abdomen hiking you up. Pace never faltering, Satoru’s heavy balls now slapping against your ass as you’re pulled up onto your hands and knees.

“I loved the view, but something tells me you like this better,” he pulls back and finds that one angle that gets that scream from you.

You reach up to the headboard for leverage as you push back against Satoru. You can feel the coil winding again, deep in your stomach. A hand finds its way to your peaked nipples and with one, two, three pinches your orgasm washes over you again. You lose your grip on the headboard, crashing into the pillows while Satoru slows to feel your warm gummy walls pulse around him.

Not wanting to spill just yet, he waits until you’ve regained some control before reaching his thumb towards your little unused hole.

You feel a sudden wetness drip onto your ass as Satoru’s thumb presses the spit into you. Gasping at the intrusion, you just moan “more, please, god.”

With a smirk, Satoru slowly slides his thumb in and out, half speed to his hips. Using his other hand, he grips your plump ass and then pulls back for a loud slap. Not impressed with the sound of the first, he reels back for a second. This time, leaving a lovely red mark. Secretly hoping it is still visible when you go home in the morning to whomever is waiting for you.

“Baby, can I give you a mess?” Satoru asks, not a drop of fatigue in his voice, only lust.

Your mouth answers, again, before you can even think of a response, “please.”

Satoru pulls his thumb and cock out of you, precum and your slick leaving a sticky trail connecting the two of you as you roll over to your back.

Satoru is kneeling as if to propose and offering you pearls instead across your pussy.

As he finishes, you reach down to spread the sticky mess on your sensitive and hairline trigger clit. Utterly debauched, you cum with a yelp and arch your back at your own touch.

Satoru collapses on the bed next to you, taking your wet hand into his. You moan and clench your thighs as he cleans off your hands, taking each finger in turn, slowly rolling the digit around in his mouth and across his tongue.

“I should wash up,” you croak out, trying to avoid eye contact while your one-night stand seemingly fucks you again with his ocean blue eyes.

Satoru gives your fingers one final lick and slides out of bed. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the shower turn on. After a minute, he pops out of the door “shower’s this way, doll.”

Somehow you manage to wash up, in spite of an extra pair of hands and a sneaky pair of lips following after every clean patch of skin.

Falling asleep is easy, the warm afterglow of a couple orgasms and a spicy shower let you both drift off into the morning.

Rolling over, you’re awakened by vibrations coming from the headboard. You reach up and find Satoru’s phone ringing.

“Hey, fix it,” you grumble as you push the phone into Satoru’s chest. He removes his arm from under your head as he blinks several times attempting to read the caller ID.

“Yo,” his voice gravelly and clipped. “Mhmm, yeah sure no problem.” He hangs up and puts the phone back on the shelf.

Satoru reaches his arm across you and pulls you into the crook of his neck, kissing the top of your head.

“Hi,” you mumble as you stretch your leg across his.

“Breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes,” a rogue hand makes its way down your back onto the swell of your ass.

“And some ibuprofen?” your free hand finds its way through his abs. You can’t believe how someone who just woke up doesn’t have morning breath nor the musty musk of a just-awoken body.

“How about a hair of the dog that bit you?” he winks as he gets out of bed and puts on a pair of lounge pants, letting them hang low.

You walk around the corner, hearing an unexpected voice coming from the kitchen. Clad in nothing but a button-down shirt you pulled from Satoru’s closet, you decide to make the best of it and ignore any shame for being the one-night stand the morning after.

“Hey handsome, pancakes smell good,“ you stop short as you round the corner and see who Satoru is talking to.

“Hey baby, sounds like you had a good night,” Suguru turns away from Satoru to face you as you approach the kitchen. He gives you a slow elevator stare. “Looks it, too.”

“I-I did. And you sounded amazing last night, I loved the new song,” you excitedly bounce over to Suguru a kiss on the cheek and join him at the kitchen island.

“Hey Satoru, you should be more careful where you put your guests’ clothes. These-“ Suguru places a shirt and bra on the table, “were laying on the sidewalk this morning. And considering I bought them for my girlfriend, I know they came from your veranda.”

Satoru’s jaw hits the floor as he attempts to work out what is unfolding in front of him. Suguru never mentioned he had a girlfriend, and you didn’t mention a boyfriend. Wait, then why did he send that text message last night?

“I’m sorry but what is happening?” Satoru points his spatula at you, catching you in the middle of a messy kiss with Suguru.

“When I found out my lovely girlfriend ran into you, we decided to see how long it would take before you tried to get into her pants,” you’re pulled closer to Suguru.

“It was my idea, once Sugu filled me in on your sordid history.”

Satoru rolls his eyes at the implications.

“Yeah. Now, I tipped the deck in my favor by setting up the private show last night. I knew you couldn’t resist the tempatation.”

“What am I, some common manwhore?” Satoru cries as he puts a hand on his hip and returns to the griddle.

“Yes” both you and Suguru respond in unison.

“But a manwhore with a really nice ass,” you add.

Satoru just sighs and serves up three plates.

#jen の stories #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk au #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen smut

178 notes · View notes

sitp-recs · 5 months

Note

Favourite Drarry recs (long fics maybe? pretty please?) that are ideally to enjoy this Spring season ?

Hello again! That’s a great ask - I have a long fic rec list that you might find interesting, but this inspired me to do something more specific with Spring vibes feat house renovations, cooking as love language, gardening, domesticity, no angst romance etc etc etc. This is 100% based on my own perception of spring vibes btw, but I hope you’ll enjoy these as much as I did!

💐 Short fic:

magic in the making by @getawayfox (G, 2k)

I didn’t see Malfoy for a year after the trial. When Gin told me that, according to Pansy, he had opened a little posh bakery in Mayfair, I thought she was joking, so I went to see for myself.

Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (M, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (M, 8k)

Harry Potter apparently wants to talk to Draco about something, but odd events keep getting in the way of that conversation – and bringing them closer together. Featuring serpentine travels, misbehaving birds, dubious roofing projects, a gay beach, and an unexpected matchmaker.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @sorrybutblog (M, 17k)

A year out from the war, Harry agrees to accompany Hermione on a historical walking tour of Pride and Prejudice. Not in the itinerary: running into Draco Malfoy, setting off a summer of stately homes, lavish parties, resentful shagging, and maybe, falling in love.

amid this warm and steady sweetness, orphaned (E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

💐 Long fic

Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil (E, 32k)

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 40k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

Through the May Air, Over the Ocean by tsauergrass (T, 45k)

Draco Malfoy never expected to find himself in Scotland or being stuck in a cottage with Potter—but wonders never cease. A story about warmth, a story about falling back in love. A story about a flock of sheep in the distant fells of Scotland.

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k) - Muggle AU

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo, @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

What Branches Grow by @the-fools-errand (M, 55k)

When a run-of-the-mill investigation turns up evidence that the Death Eaters may be resurfacing, Harry seems to be the only one who believes Malfoy has anything to do with it. Yet according to official records, he’s been the poster child for the Ministry’s post-war Rehabilitation program, living in a small muggle town in Wales.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (E, 58k)

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites and @fantalfart (E, 67k)

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

The Claiming of Grimmauld Place by @bixgirl1 (E, 74k)

When Grimmauld Place begins fighting against Harry’s ownership of it, he decides he needs help to train the historic home — but little does he expect that it’ll be Malfoy who’s most suitable for the challenge. However, as Malfoy and Harry get closer, Harry comes to understand that expectations aren’t always the best path by which to guide his heart — and in the process learns just what is needed to make a house a home.

Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Wild, orphaned (E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

#asks #Drarry reclist #spring reads

134 notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 4 months

Text

You And I

Summary: Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), maybe a little angst. 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 4.5k+

A/N: Originally written and posted in 2019. Harry x OC, AU, written in first person. Loosely inspired by the Lady Gaga song (not the 1D song lol).

He’d told me to wait for him at the bar. I sat at the corner, nursing a gin and tonic while the band broke down their equipment. I laughed when Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” began playing through the speakers, the line about the old man making love to his tonic and gin poignantly accentuating the scene.

“Fitting, yeah?” chuckled Bruno, the bartender I’d come to know well over the last few months.

I sneered at him as I stirred the little straw in my glass. “I dunno. I was thinking more along the lines of Lady Gaga.”

“Gaga?” Bruno raised a brow.

“Y’know. At the corner of the bar with my high heels on.”

Bruno’s shoulders shook with laughter as he wiped down the bar in front of me. “I’ll put that one on next, darling.”

“Put what on next?” I heard a voice call behind me.

I twisted around on my stool to see Harry stepping off the stage, an easy grin on his handsome face. I returned the smile, happy to get a better look at him. For the first time, the band had opted to wear makeup, something I’d urged them to try before but had never happened.

“You and I,” I teased, swinging one leg over the other. “The Gaga song.”

“Hmm,” he sounded as he approached me. Reaching his hand out, he cupped my chin, lifting it slightly before placing a soft kiss on my painted lips.

“I reckon when it comes to you and I, there will be no putting on…” he paused, a smirk causing his dimple to appear in his left cheek. “Only taking off.”

“Oh Styles, but you do have a way with words,” I quipped in a playful, faux accent.

He let out a giggle then, apparently amused by his own joke. He gave me one more kiss before tapping his hand on the bar.

“Bruno,” he said. “One more shot for the road?”

“Long as you ain’t driving, love!”

Harry eyed me, no doubt silently questioning how many drinks I’d had. In the two hours I’d been at the bar, I’d only had two drinks including the current half-drunk one in front of me. I’d watched Harry and his bandmates drink at least twice as much during their set, in addition to shots that fans in the audience had sent up.

“I’m good,” I reassured him. I was his drive home anyway. It was kind of understood.

With a nod, Bruno poured Harry a shot of dark golden liquid. Taking it in his hand, Harry clinked the glass against mine and downed it in one gulp. Lowering the glass, he smirked again when he caught me staring at him.

“Wha’?” he asked.

“Just looking at you,” I replied. “You look good with eyeliner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Kinda sexy, actually.”

“You think?” Harry stepped closer to me, loving the attention.

“Indeed,” I continued. Then when Bruno came around and took Harry’s empty glass, I asked him. “Bruno, don’t you think Harry looks sexy with eyeliner?”

“Of course, doll!” he agreed. “Sexy AF!”

I threw my head back laughing and Harry gave Bruno a wink. “Thanks, love.”

“Sing us a song, you’re the piano man!”

At the sound of singing, I turned around again to see Jeremiah, Harry’s drummer walking towards us. The youngest member of the band, he looked so much like Pete Wentz, especially tonight with the black eyeliner.

“All packed up, H!” he told Harry. “Ready to go?”

“Um...no…” Harry tilted his head to gesture towards me. “Alyssa’s here.”

Jeremiah looked from his bandmate to me and then back, the lightbulb going off in his head.

“Oh! Yeah! Right! Sorry, mate! I’ll just…” he pointed behind him, “head out. Good to see you, Alyssa.”

“You too, hon,” I smiled. “You were smashing it tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah beamed. Then with one last wave, he stumbled over his own feet and left the way he’d come. I giggled at his adorable awkwardness, blaming it on his youth.

Swiveling back to face Harry and Bruno, I took the last few sips of my cocktail which was mostly water by then. The first chords of “You and I” started then, and I lifted my gaze to the bartender who danced with glee.

“It has been a long time since you came around,” Harry quoted the lyrics as he slid his arm around my waist.

“Two weeks, Harry,” I chuckled. “I was sat right here at this bar two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks is a long time t’me,” he murmured, his lips finding the tender spot behind my ear. I giggled softly at the touch which sent goose flesh across my skin.

“I doubt that’s the time frame Gaga was referring to,” I said wryly. “Besides, you want me around more often, perhaps you should ring or text me.”

I heard Bruno make a muffled sound of shock from behind the bar as Harry’s mouth stalled on my neck.

“I reckon I should do that,” admitted Harry.

He stood up straight then, his eyes on mine as I gave him an accusing glare. It wasn’t that I really doubted he wanted me around. But sometimes I needed that reassurance.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he said, though his words were interrupted a bit by the noise of two more lads approaching.

“Alyssa! You made it!” shouted Gavin, the band’s guitarist.

I rose from my stool and hugged both him and Max, the bassist. Two females soon followed, and I noticed the one whom I didn’t recognise wrapped her arms around Max.

“I’m so glad you went with the eyeliner tonight,” I commented. “I don’t suspect you’ll allow me to take the credit.”

Gavin grinned, “Of course, darling, it was your idea.”

“No it wasn’t,” Harry jabbed.

I turned and poked him in the ribs. “Yes it was. Let me have my moment.”

He threw his head back laughing before pulling me to him in a bear hug. I could tell he was drunk, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath, the sweat beneath his shirt, but I didn’t mind. Some of our most fun times were when we could tease each other like this. Still, sometimes I did wish he would just be honest and tell me how he felt about me, rather than always being light-hearted and funny.

Gavin, Max and the girls all got beers from Bruno before he closed up the bar. We all sat and chatted for a bit before saying our goodbyes. Then with a look - that unspoken understanding - Harry stepped off his stool, reached for my hand and followed me out to my car.

“You’re different tonight,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence except for the 90s playlist I had going.

I raised a brow as I stopped at a red light. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. You just...are.”

I eyed him and then turned back to the road. “I got a new lipstick.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “‘s not that. You just...seem different.”

The light changed and I accelerated, my heartbeat doing the same.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t understand. I’m still me.”

I heard Harry hum, perhaps in agreement. He was quiet again while the music changed from Alanis Morissette to Pearl Jam. I wondered what he meant exactly, though part of me had my own suspicions. Then when I was nearly a block from my flat, Harry reached over and turned down the radio, muting the voice of Eddie Vedder.

“Are we okay?” he asked me.

I stopped myself from giggling, something I sometimes tend to do when I’m anxious or nervous. Instead, I bit my lip and let his question roll around in my head. I pulled up to my building and parked before I finally let out a tiny laugh.

“We’re always okay, Harry,” I said with a grin.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, I opened my car door and stepped out. I half wondered if Harry would actually follow, but as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I heard the slam of the passenger door. Meeting me at the curb, he took my hand and walked with me up the stairs to my flat.

“I don’t have whiskey,” I called after I’d tossed my keys on the table and made my way to the kitchen. “But I have vodka and wine.”

“None for me, thanks,” I heard Harry reply.

“What?” I turned around, my eyes wide. Harry always wanted a nightcap.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one who seemed different.

“Did something happen, Alyssa?”

Taken aback, I paused a moment and shook my head. “Something...like what? When?”

“Since I saw you last,” replied Harry.

I turned from him, pretending to walk to the refrigerator. Then I changed my mind and took a glass down from the cupboard and poured myself water from the tap.

“Lots of things happen in two weeks, love,” I commented. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Setting my untouched glass on the counter, I looked back at him. His face was expressionless, though his eyes seemed to reveal a bit more. Perhaps it was the makeup. No wonder they call the look “emo”.

“Tell me,” Harry said softly.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I accused.

He stared at me blankly. “Yeah, baby.”

I snorted. “So, I’m baby now?”

“Alyssa…”

Ignoring the tone of his voice, I sighed and looked away.

“Let’s see…” I began. “I’ve been working a lot. Visited my mum last Saturday. Got my nails done. And bought the new lipstick like I mentioned...oh and I got a new succulent, see?” I reached for my newest addition to my cactus collection to show him. “I’ve named this one Prince because he has a bit of a purple hue to him-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted.

I stared at him, frozen. “Sorry? For what?”

Harry stepped closer to me, taking Prince from my hands and setting it on the counter. “I’m sorry I waited two weeks to ring you.”

“Oh.” I blinked.

Sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me to him. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first. When I responded with my hands sliding up his shoulders, he kissed me harder, with purpose.

“I do like the new lipstick,” he murmured against my lips. I grinned when I noticed some of it had rubbed off onto him.

“You have such pretty lips,” he added, his eyes focused on my mouth. “First thing I wanna do when I see you is kiss them.”

I smiled at his comment, not just from flattery but because I’d always felt the same about his.

“I also meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “So do you.”

Harry grinned then, a sexy smirk. “You like the eyeliner, yeah?”

“I really do,” I nodded. “I think you should wear it more often.”

“I will if you come ‘round more often.”

“You have to ring me, Styles,” I reminded him. “I have a life, you know. As much as you may like to think otherwise, I don’t keep up with your schedule.”

“Maybe I should give it to you,” Harry said, his voice deep with no trace of humour as his hands roamed down to my bum. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“My schedule, I mean,” he added with his own chuckle. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?”

“Me?” I raised a brow.

“Yes, you. You get me all flustered, I dunno what I’m saying.”

“I’m just stood here, Harry.”

“That’s enough.”

I studied his face, trying my best to read his eyes. The green seemed more defined with the black liner, and for a split second I felt my stomach flip. I lifted my hand to touch a curl that had fallen across his forehead and heard him release a breath.

The man was definitely a mystery. For months I’d shown up here or there to see his band play. In between we might’ve had a few dates, but I never felt like what we had was anything serious. We always ended up shagging, and it wasn’t like I regretted it. We definitely had that chemistry, and we were good in bed. But I didn’t think he considered me his girlfriend; I didn’t think he considered me at all. At least, not until he was ready to see me again. And like always, I would be there when he wanted, because I really liked him.

But then he’d turn around and say something like this and I’d get all kinds of confused.

As it was, I had a hard time concentrating myself with his hands on my rear end. His lined eyes kept shifting between my own eyes and my mouth, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. This time, however, I was the one to give in, reaching for his neck and pulling him to me.

“Mmm, baby…” he moaned against my lips. He’d called me baby a handful of times before, but it never really meant much to me like it did now. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was...perhaps I was wanting him to feel what I felt. Or just...something.

I let my fingers linger on his chest before I began to unbutton his shirt. I knew where this was headed, but I wasn’t about to stop it. Feelings or no feelings, I wanted him in my bed again.

When I reached the bottom button, our lips broke free and Harry stared at me once again, his eyes now full of desire. At least I had a knack for reading that. Just like in the pub, I took his hand with an unspoken understanding and we walked down the hall to my bedroom.

“You got new sheets,” Harry commented.

I cringed, not sure if I was more embarrassed that I’d left my bed unmade or that he’d been there enough times to notice the sheets were different. Nervously I straightened the pillows before reaching behind me to unzip my dress.

“Let me,” I heard Harry say.

He strode across the room to me, his fingers on the zipper before I could protest. When my dress fell off my shoulders, his hands took its place, pushing it down the rest of the way. I felt the chills down to my toes as I stepped out of my heels and turned to face him.

I reckon I expected him to gawk at me some more like he’d been doing all evening, so I was completely surprised when his mouth crashed into mine. I immediately wound my arms around his neck and he lifted me up and onto the bed. He continued his assault on my mouth while his fingers tangled in my hair at the sides of my head. I could feel his erection through his jeans, the friction a fabulous sensation between my legs. Bending my knees, I lifted my hips slightly as I let out a gasp, the feeling of denim on cotton nearly too much for me.

Harry paused the snogging long enough to sit up and loop his fingers through the sides of my knickers. He looked at my face as he bit his lip. I wondered for a second if he was changing his mind, as this was usually not a part of the scenario where he’d stop.

“Something wrong?” I dare asked.

“Do you want me, Alyssa?”

My immediate reaction was more confusion. He’d never asked me that before. Sure, he’d moaned in my ear or against my mouth on more than one occasion that he wanted me. But he’d never asked if I wanted him. My expression softened and I gave him a smile.

“I always want you, Harry.”

With the tiniest grin and a nod, he pulled my panties down and let them fall on the floor. Then stood at the edge of the bed, he began to remove his own pants. I reached over to the bedside table then where I kept the condoms and pulled one out of the drawer.

“I promise I’ll bring my own next time,” I heard him say.

Lying on my back, I watched him crawl up the bed again.

“Next time?” I couldn’t help but razz him. The first time he’d stayed over, he didn’t have protection, but I did. I reckon after that it was just assumed.

“Yeah…” he lowered his face to mine. “Next time, love. I promise.”

He kissed me softly then, the softest kiss ever. He continued with a second on my chin, a third on my neck, a fourth on my chest…

I lost count after that.

I gripped the sheets underneath me when I felt his breath on my inner thigh. A low moan-like sound escaped my throat as I felt his thumb graze over me where I was already wet and waiting.

“You want me here?” Harry asked.

I barely heard him, his voice was so low and deep. But somehow my insides reacted and I managed to make a sound similar to yes.

I shut my eyes when I felt his tongue on me. He licked me delicately at first, like he was testing the temperature of his tea. I squirmed underneath him until he looped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to him, his tongue pressing just a bit.

“Harry…” I panted. “Oh god.”

My legs shook around his head while he began to devour me, his tongue working faster. Opening my eyes, I began to watch him, as much as I could at least. I reached down and pushed that one stubborn curl from his forehead and his eyes shifted up, locking with mine.

“‘s that good, baby?” he murmured, barely tearing his mouth away.

I merely nodded, the only thing I could manage at the moment besides coming undone. I bit my finger when he smiled and resumed his task, making me reach the edge.

I tugged on his hair as I came, calling out his name. He nipped at my thighs gently as they trembled before climbing up the bed to hover over me.

For a solid minute or two, he just stared at me. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something. Perhaps he was waiting for the green light. Or perhaps he was just waiting for me to stop shaking, I dunno. But I swear his gaze was like a magnet. I couldn’t look away.

The eyeliner had begun to smudge a bit from his recent activity. I started to reach up to swipe my thumb underneath his eye when I remembered the condom in my hand. I smiled and raised my brows, offering it to him.

“You still want me, baby?” he asked, taking it from me.

“What did I say?”

“Just making sure.”

Harry uncertainty was definitely something I was not used to, but as I watched him roll the condom on, I wondered if it wasn’t a put-on. He was nothing if not confident.

Situating himself, he kissed me once more before looking into my eyes.

“I always want you too, Alyssa,” he murmured.

Then before I could respond, he entered me fully. I gasped a tiny breath when I realised how deep he was so quickly. Then exhaling through my nose, I wrapped my legs around him.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” he said.

I couldn’t help but giggle, knowing that was definitely something he liked, and I liked pleasing him. We moved together, a slow, steady rhythm at first. I could already feel my core reacting, my most sensitive spots throbbing.

He lifted his head again and I watched his face, his eyes burning into mine as he began to move faster. I had to unravel my legs from him, lifting my knees to give him more room for thrusts. Then with a groan, he sat back and held my hips as he fucked me hard. I bit my lip to keep my moans at bay, but I couldn’t help it. Dropping my arms beside my head, I cursed and called his name.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled. “So good, innit?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He slowed down then, a low chuckle releasing from his throat. “C’mere.”

I looked at him in wonder as he guided me up and onto his lap. I noticed then that he was perspiring, beads of sweat dripping on his forehead. This time I did reach to wipe them off, but instead Harry took my hands and kissed the backs of them.

“You’re amazing, Alyssa, you know that?”

I beamed at him as I slowly began to ride him.

“You want me, Harry?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck as his gorgeous green eyes looked up at me, the makeup starting to run down one cheek. I didn’t want to wipe it away this time. He looked so sexy.

“Always,” he replied.

I licked my lips and kissed him hard, my tongue wrestling with his. His hands covered my breasts while my hips moved gingerly. Then breaking the kiss, I rode him faster, bouncing on his lap.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned as he moved his hands to my hips for leverage.

“Is that good?” I asked him, just like he’d asked me earlier.

“Fuck yeah, baby, you drive me crazy.”

I watched his face, knowing he was close to unraveling. He let out a few expletives as his fingers dug into my flesh.

“Come for me, baby,” I urged. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to watch him, and just the thought of it made me drip with delight.

“You first,” he shook his head.

I wanted to argue that I already had, and that was enough. But I knew he’d just argue back. This goddamn boy. He was going to make me fall for him, wasn’t he?

I slowed down my pace, only slightly as I needed to rejuvenate. My breaths evening out and heartbeat slowing, I kissed him again. Our lips still locked, Harry grabbed my waist and laid me back on the bed again. Then he lifted my leg and pounded me hard.

“Fuck, Harry!” I screamed.

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” he requested.

I came immediately, the sensation of him deep inside and the sounds of his moans tipping me over the edge. My body trembled beneath his as his breaths quickened in my ear.

“Baby…” he groaned. “Oh, Alyssa.”

The sounds he made as he came were indescribable. This wasn’t our first shag. But it was definitely our first something else.

I lay spent on the dampened sheets, wishing I’d remembered to turn on the fan. Sticky with sweat, Harry rolled off of me, discarded the condom into the nearby bin and laid on his back breathing hard. We stayed like that for a while in silence until Harry surprised me again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said for the...how many times? I turned my head to look at him, but his gaze was on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text just to let you know I was thinking of you. Because I was.”

My breath caught in my throat but I managed to clear it. “You were?”

“‘Course.” He turned onto his side to face me. His lips were so close to mine if either of us moved only slightly, they would touch.

“How was I supposed to know that, Harry?” I asked just above a whisper.

Shaking his head, he seemed to consider my question. “I reckon you weren’t. I’m sorry.”

I bit my lip as he leant his forehead against mine and swung his arm across my waist. He hummed softly as though he had a song in his head.

“I wish I’d rung you to talk about your day. To ask about work or your mum. To hear about your adorable succulents.”

His last comment made me smile. “To be fair, you did text me Wednesday. So not quite two weeks.”

“Fucking Wednesday. Jesus, Alyssa,” he sighed. “And a text. How the fuck am I to expect us to be okay when I bloody text you on a Wednesday?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are we okay? Because you kind of have me worried now.”

“Yeah, if I haven’t already fucked it up,” he groaned.

“Harry…I never said you fucked it up. I’m still here. I still came to your show. I showed up and waited at the bar like you asked me to.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Did I really seem different tonight?” I asked.

“Not...well, kinda. You just...didn’t seem like yourself, that’s all.”

“Well then, I apologise, because I thought I was the same as I’ve always been - the same as you want.”

“What I want?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, Harry…” I hesitated. “We’ve never really discussed what we want from each other. But I assumed you didn’t want anything serious. We’re like...friends with benefits I reckon.”

“No, we’re not,” he stated.

My jaw dropped as I glared at him.

“I don’t want you to be..." he added.

“What?”

“Baby, I don’t want you to be just a friend with benefits. I want...this.” Harry gestured between us.

“This?”

“Us. You and I. Or, um...you and me, whatever.”

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I was sure it was so loud he could hear it. “Seriously?”

Harry nodded, his hand sliding underneath my jaw. “I want you, baby.”

I sighed, tears starting to form in my eyes. Blinking fast, I swallowed hard. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t mean just sex. I want you, for real. I was gutted when I thought something had changed between us, but then I realised it was my own fucking fault.”

“I don’t...know what to say, Harry.”

“Say you want me too. You and I.”

I smiled as I reached for him, kissing him tenderly and eagerly. “Always.”

Harry’s dimples appeared in his cheeks as he beamed at me. I couldn’t help it. I started giggling.

“Oh love,” I sighed. “Please tell me you’ll continue to do the eyeliner thing. I’m with Bruno. You look sexy AF.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Truth? You look completely fucked. And I love that it was with me. Only makes me want you more.”

“Well, in that case,” he murmured low, pulling my leg across his, “I’ll wear it from now on.”

“Just so I know it’s for me, and not your groupies.”

Harry snorted. “Or Bruno?”

“Eh, I don’t mind so much about Bruno. He’s on my side.”

Harry laughed harder before kissing me across my cheek and down my neck.

“You really are amazing, Alyssa,” he whispered in my ear. “Now...tell me about your succulents.”

“Well Prince is the newest, like I said,” I began, Harry’s mouth continuing its trail down my neck and shoulder. “Mick and Freddie were my first two and they’re still going strong. But Bowie is a bit temperamental…”

Hope you enjoyed!

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

dividers by @firefly-graphics

87 notes · View notes

lovepotionsandlust · 4 months

Text

All Of The Ways We Differ

This is my first ever fic I have written. this will be MULTIPLE parts. *please note this is an AU* Not proof read

no use of Y/N

no warnings for the first chapter

enjoy!

“Explliarmus!” you watched as Harry’s wand flew from his hand. For your first try at the disarming spell, you were shocked how well it had worked. You were late to join “Dumbledore’s Army,” making you the newest member. You could not stop the nerves of feeling behind everyone’s progress. “Well done!” shouted a student whose name you were yet to be aware of. As you strode away from the center of the room, enjoying the praise from your peers, you joined your group of friends.

“Fred Weasley,” he said, extending his right hand to you. Looking up at him, you reached out, shaking his large hand. From his right stepped out his identical twin.

“Now Freddie, don’t take all of the star students’ attention.”

He bumped shoulders with his brother making more room for himself.

“George Weasley at your service” you couldn’t help smiling up at the red headed twins.

“I wouldn’t call myself the star by any means but thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“it’s about time you three met,” interrupted Ginny, your best friend. “I’ve only told you about her a million times.”

“ah so you’re the infamous twins I have heard so much about” you chuckled up at them.

“so what brought you to join the big boys?” they asked in unison.

Rasing your hand, showing the back of it. Still red and irritated, “I shall not speak disrespectfully to my superiors.” You mocked Umbridge’s voice. “after she decided to insult my work in class, I promptly asked if her hairstyle was some form of curse we would be learning about in the upcoming chapters.” You smiled to yourself, still staring down at your hand. “Was well worth it though, the look on her face was a thing of dreams.”

Shooting your eyes at the twins, both looking amused. “absolutely brilliant if you ask me! We were thinking of slipping her some puking pastels in her tea, they are an invention of ours.”

Your interest peaked, you had to know more. As you stood taking in all of the information regarding the skiving snack boxes, their deliciously devious contents. “here, consider me a founding member, and remember who supported you at the beginning.” You handed them each ten galleons.

Right then and there Fred knew he had fallen, and fallen hard.

***

Every meeting since then, you had always held Freds attention. Frequently catching him watching you in the mirrored walls when your back was to him. Typically ignoring it, “he’s just watching you because you’re a fast learner, don’t think too much about it.” Today you decided to stick your tongue out at him, letting him know he was caught. Quickly straightening himself up, his face turned a darker red color than his bright hair. George leaned over to whisper something in his ear in your general direction. Whatever he had to say clearly upset him as he gave his shoulder a quick shove. Leaving George to walk away looking far too smug.

You turned walking your way to Ginny, noticing the expression on her face.

“Now what is that face about Gin?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? You clearly have caught my brother’s attention” she tilted her head in Freds direction. “he was so busy trying to impress you with his patronus charm, that he sent it flying into the back of Nevilles head.”

“Yeah, bloody hurt too. If I didn’t have a hard enough time remembering things, now I have a head injury to worry about.” Neville exclaimed joining the conversation.

Rolling your eyes, shaking your head, you did your best to hide the blush that had risen to your cheeks.

“You both have gone mad, he has got most of the sixth years wrapped around his finger-“

“Well, your finger is the only one he is wrapped around. All he can ever do at home now is ask about you. Speak of the devil, look who’s coming.”

You could feel his approach from behind you. Ginny leaned in closer adding.

“At this rate we will be in-laws before the semester is through.”

“you keep pestering me and I will send Goyle a love potion with your name on it.”

With this she put her hands up in surrender stepping back, “hey, I have always wanted a sister.”

You stepped forward at her causing her to turn around, exiting the room. A throat clearing behind you caught your attention. Turning on your heel, there Fred was, standing much closer to you than you had expected. Catching you off guard you stumbled backwards slightly, he reached out catching your hand helping you find your balance. Both of you blushing, avoiding each other’s eye contact.

“Sorry about that, I just wanted to come to with you a happy Christmas.” He smiled down at you in a way that made your knees feel as if they were going to give out.

“Thanks Freddie, Happy Christmas to you as well.”

“Going to visit your family I trust?”

“Not this year actually, ill be staying at the castle. My family is traveling around Europe visiting relatives from all over the country. They won’t return for quite some time after either. With O.W.L.s quickly approaching, figured it would be best to stay behind to catch up on my potions preparations.”

“Well, now if I knew you were staying behind, I would have signed up to stay as well. Percy, Bill and Charlie, all cannot make it home this year. Should be a quiet day at the burrow.”

“don’t you worry about little ol’ me. There is always trouble somewhere that I can find myself in the center of.”

A low chuckle left him, as if without thinking he replied “That’s my girl” with a grin.

Your eyebrows raised at him, biting back a smile.

“Oh- uh- I just meant- um” he stammered.

You watched as he tried to back his way out of the corner, he had just put himself in.

“For the biggest prankster in Hogwarts history, I really thought you would be quicker to get yourself out of trouble Weasley.” Without breaking eye contact, you slid your bag over your shoulder.

“I hope you have a very merry Christmas Freddie.”

Without another word shared, you exited the room. Attempting to hide the amusement on your face. Fred watched you intently as you exited into the large hallway, rejoining your friends.

George joined his side “ugh, I missed her! Did you at least wish her a Happy Christmas from me?”

Without moving his attention from you, he leaned closer to George, “ do you remember how much trouble I had got in for turning moms knitting needles into snakes last summer?"

“How could I forget? She wouldn’t let me out of the house either for fear you were lying to her to get out of the house. Wait- why?”

Fred nodded in your direction “that one over there is more trouble for me than that, I assure you.”

***

As the campus refilled with student, you could not help but feel eager to see Freddie again. Too many nights to count over the last week you had found yourself in the astronomy tower yearning for his company. Classes roared back up with the looming O.W.L. examinations nearing closer. Sitting in the library you could not focus on your text books, your mind often wandering. You were so distracted you didn’t even notice Ginny join your table. Your name being called pulled you from your day dream.

“Lost in the clouds again?” she teased.

“just cant seem to keep my feet on the ground, nothing out of the ordinary. Did you enjoy your break Gin?”

“well, I tried to, but most of the time I was being harassed. Do you want to know by who?” she smirked up at you.

“Yes, absolutely I do.” You thought. Keeping your eyes on your textbook, afraid she would read your facial expressions too easily. “oh, here we go again, I do not want to hear your theories- “

She promptly interrupted “Fred would not stop pestering me regarding what you were talking to me about before break. He overheard my comment about wanting a sister. You should have seen his face when I told him that we were discussing your schoolgirl crush for Ron. He turned just about the same shade of red as you have now.”

You crumpled up a near piece of paper and threw it at her.

“You did not!”

“Well what else was I supposed to tell him?”

You hid your face in your hands with a sigh.

“tell me you’re joking you did NOT tell him-“ you looked around your surroundings quieting your tone, “that I fancied Ron of all people.”

Pushing your arm gently, prompting you to remove your hands, your eyes flashed up at her.

“well would you have preferred I told him the truth about who has caught your eye?”

There was no point in trying to lie to her at this point.

“you open your mouth and I will tell Harry about that dream, in which I swore never to repeat”

She placed her hand over her heart dramatically. “you wouldn’t!”

Smiling back at her, you waited a moment acting as if you were dep in thought.

“but you promised!”

Pure embarrassment and panic flushed over her expression.

“you’re right Gin, I wouldn’t. even thinking about having to repeat that depravity and I’m feeling ill. Have been doing my best to forget it since you told me about it.” You placed your hand over your mouth pretending to fight back vomit.

“you and Fred are perfect for each other, you know that? Glad to see you finally admit that you do in fact fancy him, don’t think I missed that.” Swiftly you kicked her under the table.

“Now it is your turn to promise to keep things between us Gin.”

She extended her pinky to you, interlocking them in a promise the way you would as a child.

***

Days had passed since your conversation with Ginny in the library. No practice sessions took place in the room of requirement as everyone prepared for the O.W.Ls. Tensions continued to build as Umbridge had really supped her retaliation against the students and now the staff. With her rules prohibiting students of opposing genders to interact in the halls, your chances of spending time with Fred any time soon were dwindling.

As students sat quietly in the rows of desks that now lined the great hall, the only sounds to be heard were the quick movements of quills and the swinging of the pendulum. That was until a fizz and pop noise caught everyones attention. Before you knew what was happening, Fred and George were flying through the air above you. Throwing more fireworks than you had ever seen. You could not keep your eyes off of him. The loud cheers of the fellow students gave him the courage he needed to make a move. Swiftly he flew down to you slowing only for a moment to leave a kiss on your cheek. Turning to wink at you as he returned to his brothers side. Ginny grabbed your hand pulling you closer, the smile on your face could not be removed with the cruciatus curse. Between the twins antics and the sound of Umbridge screaming as she ran, the previous months of stress seemed to melt away. As a large dragon made of fireworks chased her out of the room, all of the students followed. Chasing after the twins as they entered the courtyard, a large “W” filled the sky in shimmering colors. As they were out of eye sight, something else caught your attention. A small paper bird flying near your side. You extended your hand allowing it to land softly in your hand. Noticing the ink bleeding through from the other side, you quickly opened the parchment.

“tomorrow 6pm

3 brooksticks

Back booth

Don’t be late xx

Freddie”

#fred weasley #george weasley #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #george weasly x reader #weasley twins

67 notes · View notes

spaceshipellie · 1 year

Note

i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did

abby with sm angst

“i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did”

pairing: abby x reader

summary/warnings: you can’t stay away from your toxic ex girlfriend, abby. modern au, angst, mdni

this was really fun to write i should write more angst oop

you and abby hadn’t seen each other for five months but not a day went by where you didn’t think about her. being in a relationship with her had been like sticking your hand in a fire and expecting not to get burnt. you knew you wanted more from her than she was willing to give but there was just something about her that made you settle for the pain.

every time you told yourself you wouldn’t put up with it anymore, you’d find yourself pinned down against her bed again. her sweet words whispering in your ear, feeding you this illusion that she was perfect for you and you for her. that all she wanted was you. nothing in the world could take her from you. but it was always bullshit.

“oh, i’m sorry,” you exclaimed, accidentally slamming into someone as you left the coffee shop. you looked up, worried you might have spilled your latte on them but your heart sunk. abby.

“hi,” she smiled at you. don’t do that.

“hi.”

“sorry about that. how are you?” she asked, moving away from the door. you followed suit.

“my fault. i’m good, how are you?”

“not bad. you okay? you seem flustered.”

fuck off. “i’m fine, just in a rush. i better go actually.” lies.

“oh, yeah sure. see you,” she smirked before striding off with all the confidence in the world.

you went about the rest of your day in a fairly sour mood, which only got worse that evening when you were at home and your phone lit up.

your stomach lurched and your hands felt so fidgety you could barely type. what on earth could she possibly want to talk about? well, you were about to find out because you’d agreed to meet the following night and were currently knocking on her door.

“hi, babe.” stop.

“hi.”

you shrugged off your jacket and laid it over the back of a chair before following her into her living room. she gestured for you to sit down before asking you if you wanted anything to drink.

“i’ve got white wine, rum, or that gin you were always obsessed with?”

“what am i doing here, abby?”

“oh, um. well, i told you. i wanted to see you, is that so bad?”

“you and i both know how this usually goes.” you folded your arms across your chest, refusing to sit down yet.

“is that why you agreed to come?” she smirked.

“i’m not playing your games anymore, abby. i’m done.”

she sighed and dropped the smug look. “i really did just want to talk.”

“oh yeah? about what exactly?”

she winced at your angry tone but still looked more intimidating than you ever could.

“i feel really bad for how much i fucked up when we were together.”

you were a bit shocked, purely expecting her to say something cliche like ‘i missed you’ aka ‘i miss fucking you and i’m bored.’

“why are you telling me this now?”

“i don’t know, i guess seeing you yesterday. i forgot how i felt around you.”

you shifted from one foot to the other, arms wrapping around yourself protectively. “and how do you feel?”

she took a few steps towards you. “i still love you and i don’t know what to do with it.”

it was taking every ounce of strength you had to resist going over to her and letting her wrap her arms around you. you didn’t know what to say. you still loved her but had spent the last few months fighting to get over it. you didn’t want to love her anymore but you weren’t sure how you could stop. she spoke again when you didn’t say anything.

“but i get that i fuck up, a lot. so i understand if–“

“i never blamed you, you know.”

“what?”

“for being the way you are. loving me the way you did. maybe i should, but i don’t.”

you dropped your arms and took a step forward, your eyes scanning her face to try and read her expression.

“what are you saying?” she asked.

you truthfully had no idea. you could never think clearly when abby was around, her presence alone turned your brain to mush.

“i’m saying…” your voice trailed off and you didn’t notice she’d moved closer to you until she was right in front of you. you looked into her eyes and tried again.

“i’m saying…” she nodded subtly for you to continue, eyes looking at your lips as she licked her own, “i don’t know what i’m saying.”

you grabbed her face and kissed her. she instantly wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in that all too familiar strong embrace. your fingers dug themselves into her hair as if you were afraid she’d disappear. maybe doing this would set you back. maybe it would trudge up some locked away pain. maybe it would make you hate yourself tomorrow. but all you knew now was that you needed her. you craved her. and you were going to get your fix.

#tlou x cain requests 🌙#anon requests 🌷#abby anderson angst #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson oneshot #abby anderson #abby anderson blurb #abby x you #abby anderson x you #tlou part 2 #abby tlou #abby anderson drabble

249 notes · View notes

staytinyville · 1 year

Text

Stay Alive (3)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

The new badge you had gotten for your new position opened most doors that were in the bottom levels. The security guards that were placed at the lobby entrance were told of the new change in nurses so they only gave you a glance as you walked through the doors.

Walking along the familiar hallway, your eyes glanced over the third door, but moved to the one next to it. You knocked softly, hearing shuffling on the other side of the door. With a swipe of your keycard, you opened the door slowly like you had last time, not wanting to startle the man inside.

“Hello?” You called into the dark room. Instead of allowing the only light source to be from the bedside lamp, you turned around to flip the switch. You smiled to yourself as light seeped into the room creating a better area to work with.

You flinched back as you turned to almost smack your nose into Jungkook. “Oh! Hi, Mr. Jeon.” You greeted brightly, stepping to the side so as to not be so close.

“You're back.” Jungkook tilted his head, eyes blinking down at you.

“Yes!” You spoke enthusiastically. “I'm your new nurse so I'll be coming in from now on.” Your eyebrows pulled together when you looked around his room. There were things thrown about, the bed moved at a weird angle and the furniture looked to be torn to shreds.

“You gave people a scare yesterday.” You looked over Jungkook, trying to find something wrong with him. “What happened? You were alright when I checked on you the other day.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised as he watched you check over him. “I just wanted you to be my nurse.” Was all he said.

“I think you did more than just ask.” You lightly laughed, a grin on your face as you started to pick up the things that were left over on the floor.

“They'll fix it anyway.” Jungkook bent down, pulling you back up to stop your cleaning. “Are you going to be doing your check up?” He asked, trying to get you to pay attention to him.

You stood straight back up, moving to place the things you already had on the counter. “Yes.” You smiled. “I'll get on with it.”

Jungkook was quick to move to the bed, making himself comfortable as he watched you gathered the blood pressure machine and a finger oxygen meter. His eyes followed your every move, ears picking up on all the little sounds you made as you hummed to yourself.

He sat up when you turned around. He was straining to keep himself from looking so desperate for you, waiting as you made your move to touch his arm. He allowed you to touch him, almost relaxing when your hand began to touch his tattooed arm.

“Perfect vitals, as normal.” You explained, unwrapping the padding. He frowned when you turned around, not giving his tattoos a second look. He quietly stood from the bed, making his way over to you as you wrote down things in a folder.

“Is that my file?” He asked, looking over your shoulder, his chest trapping you into the counter.

You froze up, shoulders squaring as you shuffled away from the man’s body heat. “Yes.” You nodded your head, stiffly turning around. “I have the whole thing now so I know what I'm looking for.” You held up the papers, ginning.

“I hope you don't mind.” You softly spoke, noticing how he looked at the file skeptically.

“Not at all.” Jungkook’s lips pulled into a friendly smile for a little before he scooted back and allowed you room to move.

“If that is fine, I’ll go over the questions they seem to have on here.” You took a seat at th edge of a ripped chair, not wanting to scrape yourself on the ragged edges of the fabric. Jungkook sat on the bed watching you.

The questions were for everyday check-ups. Does anywhere hurt? How is your eyesight? Your hearing? He gave short answers, looking as though he was already used to those kinds of questions. You frowned as you got halfway through the list, realizing that he did have a nurse come in to see him often so he was used to hearing the questions.

You didn’t feel like asking the same questions he was so used to hearing so instead you decided to ask about him, thinking it would be best to get to know him. You were going to be working with him often. Looking over his file you knew it would be stupid to ask the things that were clearly already written down.

“Do you have a favorite food?” You asked, hiding a grimace at how dumb the question sounded. It most definitely caught his attention because the wide eyed look you got made you smile. He looked adorable as he watched you with a confused look.

“I’m going to be with you for a while so I might as well get to know you.” You smiled.

“I don’t know.” The boy spoke quietly. “Anything with meat?”

You giggled, feeling like you caught the boy off guard. “I can understand that.” Jungkook slowly loosened his tense shoulders as you both began to speak about your favorite things. Well, it was mostly you. Jungkook kept to himself for the most part, not giving out much information.

By the end of the visit you slowly started swooning for the man’s smile that showed off his teeth. You thought it fit his look, his eyes and nose really creating features you would notice from a mile away.

“I should have gotten everything.” Jungkook’s head snapped up to you, realizing that you had not finished with the normal questioning. “You should be good.” You smiled at him.

“Do you have to go?” He asked, standing from the bed and shuffling closer to you.

While you didn’t want to leave you had other things to take care of. Your time wasn’t meant to be long, just a simple health check up. You had yet to see what it was Jungkook really had but you would get to that at some point. You didn’t want to seem inconsiderate and ask right away. You were going to be with the man for a while so you wanted him to trust you.

“I have some papers to file but I'll be sure to come in tomorrow. I have to anyway.” You shrugged.

“We'll go out to the common room.” He spoke up, walking next to you as you reached the door.

“That's perfect.” You smiled. “I'll see then, Mr. Jeon.”

“Jungkook.” He told you. “Call me Jungkook.”

Your eyebrows raised and a giggle bubbled from your throat. “If you insist. Have a good day, Jungkook.”

Your bright smile had him grinning, looking away bashfully. “You too.” He called out to you.

You shut the door behind you, the last thing being Jungkook's red cheeks and large smile. It brought warmth to your chest. A blush bloomed on your cheeks, as you smiled to yourself. Gathering all of Jungkook’s papers together, you shuffled your feet along the ground to get back to the office.

However, just as you moved to take a step, you immediately came to a stop. You felt something calling to your attention from the room on the other side of the hallway. It was the one directly in front of Jungkook’s, which prompted you to see the large 006 on the door label.

It was like the first day you had come down to the lower levels where you felt something touching your shoulders. Like there was someone trying to get your attention with their presence. You took a glance at room three, before walking closer to the even number room.

There was a buzzing feeling going around the hallway. It felt childish, like someone was giggling in your ear. You felt like you were playing hide and seek with a young child, their laughter ringing through the area that foretold their hiding spot.

As you reached out to touch the knob, your head tilted to the side. You looked up with your eyes on the number plate. Your fingers twitched close to the metal, eyes blinking as you seemed to have gotten the feeling back in your body. You had already knocked before your head wrapped around where you were.

The door opened on its own, so you stuck your head in. “Hello?” You called, leaning closer. The room was exactly like Jungkook's, however there were things placed around that made it look like someone stayed there. There were personal belongings if you were to call them something.

Your eyes sparkled as you took in the paper planes that were hanging from the ceiling. There was a desk filled with little trinkets that looked like wooden toys or glass figurines. A large isle was placed in the corner of the room, paint stained the board in a haphazard way.

As you walked into the room with a giggle falling from your lips, someone startled you.

“You're new.” A deep voice spoke up, sounding astounded. You turned quickly, finding the patient of the room hiding behind the door that had opened. You realized it hadn’t opened on it’s own but that maybe the man had been the one to let you in.

“Yes. I'm a new nurse.” You told him.

“That's probably why you came in.” He spoke to himself. “I'm Taehyung.” His boxy smile made you grin at how adorable he looked.

“(Y/N).” You greeted politely.

“You just came from Kookies room.” He skipped around you, moving things from off what you assumed to be his desk. “Are you his new nurse?” He looked up at you expectantly.

“I am. How do you know?” You nodded your head, holding Jungkook’s files close to your chest.

“He told us all that he got a new nurse to see him.” Taehyung explained, finding some playing cards. “He threw a huge fit when someone else showed up yesterday. Jimin heard the whole thing next door.” The man began to shuffle the cards playing with them.

You knew that something happened in Jungkook’s room for the boy to have shredded furniture but they didn’t really tell you what it was. You thought maybe it was just him who was having an episode but to learn it was because you didn’t show up made you feel bad. You did give him hope you would show up again.

“He did?” You frowned.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” Taehyung spoke, quickly changing the subject.

“Ah.” Your eyes tried to keep up with the way the boy was quickly shuffling the deck. “I don't know if I'm allowed to be here.” You looked up at him, eyes on his mischievous grin.

“Don't worry! You have time.” He waved your worry off. “It will be quick. I promise.”

“Okay.” You sighed softly, eyes melting at the way his boyish charm seemed to trap you.

His lips pulled over his teeth as he quickly nodded his head. His hands seemed to move faster around the cards, you began to worry that he would allow one to fall. However he seemed to have a handle on them as they shifted from one hand to the other.

Your eyes went wide as he seemed to dance around with them, seemingly as if he had them floating in the air. You tried to keep up with his movements, but you were lost in the way his fingers skimmed over each piece of cardstock.

He suddenly clapped his hands together, stopping all the cards from shuffling. “Keep your eye on this card.” He showed you the seven of spades, quickly clapping his hand again to begin shuffling the deck.

As he began to dance again, your eyes kept seeing the seven of spades pop up ever so often. You would always find it in a fleeting moment but somehow it didn’t stay out of your sight for too long. When you caught sight of it again, it seemed to flip over to the opposite face. In the blink of an eye, all the cards stopped their movements as Taehyung’s hand quickly covered them all up.

As he slowly went to open up his palm, your breath got caught in your throat as a tulip unscrambled from his palms. It laid on top of the deck, unraveling itself to take up the space it needed. Your laugh brought joy to Taehyung’s ears, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He grabbed the flower from atop of the deck, showcasing it off to you.

“It's beautiful.” You whispered, eyes sparkling.

“Thank you.” He kept his eyes on you, softly smiling. “Here you keep it.” He held the flower out to you, pocketing the rest of the deck.

You looked up at him, slowly reaching out to take the flower from his fingers. “Thank you.” You whispered, keeping his eyes locked to yours. You moved it up to your nose, smiling at the scent it gave off. It was soothing almost.

“I'll see you some other time, Taehyung.” You suddenly felt excitable, grinning up at the boy. “Have a good day.” You waved to him, skipping off to the door and out into the hallway.

Taehyung suddenly felt a little shy at the way your voice spoke those kind words to him. It made him feel happy to have accomplished something so small. It was like a reward to him, to hear someone praise him. And to know that she wanted to see him again some other time made a giggle fall from his lips.

Taehyung knew that he was considered as someone who was often in his head and daydreaming. He acted childish sometimes which made nurses scold him often. But you hadn't looked at him that way. In fact, you looked at his things with interest. He would replay the giggles you let out and the breath taking smile on your face over and over again.

“I can now.”

Series Masterlist

345 notes · View notes

ginnympotter · 1 year

Note

Very fluffy moment: an AU where Jily lives- ofc-and Hinny tells them about the new baby (can be any of the pregnancies)

LOVE SOME GOOD JILY LIVES FLUFF

"Why are you so nervous?" Ginny asked him, squeezing his hand as they waited by the front door. "You know they'll be happy for us, right?"

Harry shook his head. "That's the problem. They'll be too happy. Remember when we told them we were engaged?"

"Well, at least we're prepared for the dramatics," she assured him.

Just then, the door swung open, James smiling brightly at his son and daughter-in-law. "There's the most beautiful couple in the world," he proclaimed, bringing them both into a hug.

"Never prepared enough," Harry whispered to Ginny out of the corner of his mouth. She giggled.

"What was that?" James asked as they broke apart.

"Nothing," Harry waved off. "Hi, Dad."

They stepped inside the Godric's Hollow cottage to see the table fully set, Lily taking out one last thing from the oven.

"Mum," Harry sighed, walking over to her. "I told you I'd help with dinner tonight."

"Don't worry about it, love," she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek. "I wanted to give you a break, I know you've been working hard."

"But I like cooking with you," he told her earnestly.

"That's sweet, Harry," Ginny interjected, patting his arm. "But let your mum mother you for the night, yeah?"

"Listen to your wife, kid," James said as he put on oven mitts and picked up a tray to bring to the table. "How are you doing, Gin?"

"Great," she said, smiling. Then, "Pregnant."

The tray slipped from James's hands and shattered to the floor. All three of them were staring at her, Harry somewhat exasperated. Being the only one not in shock, she took out her wand and cleared up the mess, the tray all put together back on the table.

Harry shook out of his stupor. "I thought we were going to tell them after dinner," he murmured.

"Sorry," she responded, though he wasn't sure she meant it. She continued to smile. "You know me. Impulsive. Felt like the right moment."

They looked back at James and Lily, both still looking stunned.

"Surprise?" Harry tried.

"I know you're both pretty young to be grandparents," Ginny said. "But if it's any consolation, you're going to be like, the coolest grandparents anybody has ever had."

The word "grandparents" seemed to do it. James started to laugh and Lily burst into tears.

"Bloody hell," James exclaimed, wrapping Ginny up in a bear hug. "You're having a baby!"

"Mum, it's okay," Harry tried, rushing over to Lily.

Lily grabbed his face and smiled brightly. "You're going to be the most amazing, loving, caring, magnificent, brilliant father-"

James broke away from Ginny and looked towards his wife. "Hey, hey, hey, what am I, then?"

"The most amazing, loving, caring, magnificent, brilliant grandfather?" Harry tried.

"Oh god, what do I go by? Grandpa? Grandad? Papa?"

"Absolutely not Papa," Lily intervened, wiping her tears.

"Sorry, right, that's reserved for-"

"Stop!" Harry warned, and all three of them laughed. "Why don't we sit down and eat, yeah?"

They all listened, but as soon as they started piling food on their plates, James started again. "Need name ideas? 'Cause I've got one-"

"Let me guess," said Lily. "Is it James?"

Ginny giggled.

"What?" James asked, feigning innocence. "It's a classic name!"

"We'll see," said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.

#jily lives #jily lives au #hp #fanfic #one shot #drabble #hp fanfic #hinny #james potter #lily evans #ginny weasley #harry potter

283 notes · View notes

soft-girl-musings · 7 months

Text

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open.

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.”

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice.

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?”

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.”

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift.

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.”

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously. He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too. You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock

61 notes · View notes