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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

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blue raspberry syrup

(part 2 to sunscreen and chlorine)

word count: 3.9k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: a second meeting with your favorite lifeguard after pool hours… what will you get into this time?

cw: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), eddie watches reader get herself off, unprotected p in v, creampie, sex in a public place (they’re alone tho), use of pet names, temperature play

author’s note: here she is, finally! hope i did part one justice with this sequel, let me know what y’all think!!

Milky twilight began to fall over the community pool, the sunset casting orange and lilac reflections on the surface of the water. Fireflies flickered on and off in the grass beyond the fence, communicating in their own way. Meanwhile, Eddie busied himself with any task he could think of as he waited for you to return. He took out the trash, cleaned the disgusting bathrooms, washed his hands ten times afterwards, closed all the umbrellas positioned between lounge chairs. Billy had been the last one to leave at 7:30, telling Eddie he ‘better not pull anymore bullshit tomorrow’, and now Eddie finds himself taking a well deserved quick swim in the pool, cooling himself off after a scorcher of a day. One half of the water, the deeper end, is concealed by the pool cover, Eddie having left the shallower end open for use. He submerges himself underwater, propelling himself forward and then coming up to the surface, shaking his hair wildly like a dog. He pulls himself out of the water, hands flat on the concrete as he pushes his body up and out. His swim trunks drip the chlorinated water all around his feet, hitting the pavement in loud droplets. Drying himself off with a towel, he sees headlights pull into the parking lot, hears faint music playing from the car radio. You step out of your car and catch his eye, giving him a wave - the same little delicate wave you directed at him when he first saw you lounging by the pool earlier that day. You have a towel tucked under your arm, and another popsicle in your left hand. Eddie’s head swirls with delight.

You’d been antsy all afternoon after your shower session with Eddie, pacing back and forth around your room at home just trying to distract yourself. The minutes seemed to drag, moving slow like thick honey as you waited for your next meeting time with the lifeguard that made your heart pound. You’d showered and slipped on a different bathing suit, the other one being damp and cold and reeking of chemical water. You forced yourself to gain some sense of composure as you stepped out of your car after arriving back at the pool, unwilling to let Eddie know just how much he’d occupied your brain the last several hours. He beams at you from behind the painted metal fence and you feel butterflies take flight in your stomach.

“You and those damn popsicles,” he laughs, opening the gate to the pool to let you in, still towel drying his hair.

You held the frozen snack at your side, still in the crinkly white wrapper. You try to bite back a smile but ultimately fail. The squeaky metal gate closes behind you, Eddie positioning the latch into place with a clink.

“Thought you liked it, don’t tell me you’re gonna complain if you have to watch me eat another,” you look up at him innocently with round eyes, batting your lashes for effect.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, giving you a dismissive wave as he walks with you towards the water. The heat has dissipated slightly with the gradual nightfall, the intense glare of the sun now faded into a subtle wink. Crickets chirp in the grass, filling the night with sound, a lullaby coaxing the town to sleep. He finds himself sick with adoration as he looks at you, looking so effortlessly perfect. An oversized t-shirt covering you down to your mid-thigh, concealing the swimsuit underneath - he can see where it ties at the back of your neck. You wear white flip flops on your feet, toenails painted a bright shade of purple. The backs of the shoes clap clap clap as you step towards the pool, Eddie’s bare feet padding silently next to them. You lay your striped beach towel down onto the concrete, next to the pool’s edge. Eddie watches your every movement, his heart pounding in his chest. He wants to touch you, to taste you, to feel you all over him.

You sit on your towel, leaning your head to the side to glance up at Eddie. “Well, Munson? What kind of lessons do you have for me?” you ask playfully, itching to get his hands on you.

There’s a pause as Eddie thinks. His eyes trail to the still wrapped popsicle, and then back to you. His face twists into a devious grin. He sits so he’s facing you, legs spread as he gently pulls you to sit between them. He pulls you in for a kiss, forcing back the moan that threatens to break free at the mere contact with your lips. He hears you sigh into him, hands coming up to cup his face. Soft lips move against even softer ones, tongues searching the inside of cheeks eagerly. Your hands tangle in his damp hair, cold droplets covering your skin. When he finally pulls away, he admires your kiss swollen lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the bottom one. He picks up the popsicle, slowly working the wrapper off of it, and you eye him curiously.

Eddie holds the stick of the popsicle with one hand, other hand gripping your jaw, pulling your mouth open gently.

“Stick your tongue out, baby,” he murmurs, watching you intently as you oblige.

He presses the popsicle to your tongue, prompting you to suck it past your lips. You take only a little bit into your mouth at first, and Eddie doesn’t seem pleased. He tsks at you, lips forming a slight frown.

“Surely you can take more than that, sweetheart,” he coos, his eyes steady as they observe you.

He pushes the popsicle further past your plush lips, enjoying the way you let it all happen without protest. Less and less of the blue tinted ice is visible the further he coaxes it into your mouth, and your eyes tear up a little as it reaches the back of your throat. The muscles tense, making you gag a little.

“That’s right, honey, choke on it for me. You were such a good girl gagging on my dick earlier, you can handle this too, right?” his voice is almost patronizing, yet it sends shockwaves right to your core, wetness beginning to pool in your bathing suit bottoms.

You pull away for a moment, suddenly the cotton shirt on your body is too much, too heavy on you. You pull it over your head hastily, setting it beside you before turning to face Eddie once more. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, prompting him to keep going. Eddie groans as you eagerly suck the popsicle, taking all that he gives you without complaint. He pulls it from your mouth suddenly, a soft slurping sound forming as you gather the sticky sweet juice from dripping past your lips. Without warning, Eddie puts the treat in his mouth, blue raspberry syrup coating his tongue. You feel a persistent throbbing between your thighs, watching his sloppy tongue lick remnants of your saliva off of blue ice. It’s not what you expected him to do, but you’ll be damned if you don’t find it fucking hot. He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, sucking slow on the popsicle, driving you crazy.

You can’t take the teasing anymore, needing more of him, and you grab the popsicle from his hand. You lean into his personal space, getting him to lean back on flat palms. He watches you silently, hears his heartbeat in his ears as you suck the popsicle into your mouth once more, proceeding to pull it back out and kiss his neck with cold lips. He shudders, gasping when you press your cold tongue flat to his warm flesh, licking and nipping at the thin skin. You travel down his body like that, taking a lick of your frozen treat, then putting cold lips and tongue on Eddie’s skin, sucking hickeys into his chest. For the first time, you notice he has a nipple piercing. Just one, two silver balls resting on either side of puckered skin. The metal seems to gleam for you, calling you in. You take it into your mouth, icy tongue teasing the skin and tasting metal. Eddie whimpers, laughing a little when you pull away.

“Just now noticing that, honey?” he asks, pretty teeth on display for you as he smiles.

“I like it,” you reply easily, licking flat across his nipple once more before continuing your journey down.

Eddie knows where this is going, and his body practically vibrates with anticipation. Goosebumps break out on his skin as your mouth finds its way beneath his belly button, mouth kitten licking and kissing over his happy trail. He thinks he may die when you hook your fingers in the waistband of his swim trunks, coolly sucking on your popsicle all the while, getting your mouth nice and cold for him. His dick throbs, begging for attention. You coax the damp fabric down his legs, his cock springing free, curving towards his tummy. Before Eddie can even register it, your mouth engulfs him, cold tongue licking his shaft. Eddie tenses, throwing his head back and letting out a puff of air at the new sensation. A thin ribbon of saliva connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock when you start to pull away, licking up and down the popsicle again, tongue turning more blue with each swipe of it. You suck on the head of Eddie’s weeping cock, hollowing your cheeks out as he moans your name, fingers tangling in your hair. His cock practically aches, every cold press of your mouth against it has his breath catching in his throat, strangled moans escaping his pretty lips. He lets you work your magic for a while bobbing your head up and down, rolling his balls between your fingers.

The popsicle starts to melt where it rests in your free hand, and Eddie takes it from you, sucking on it while you suck on him. You pull off of his cock with a quiet pop, and Eddie grabs your chin, urging you up towards him. He kisses you hungrily, two blue tongues swirling around one another. Eddie stifles a groan, you taste like artificial berries and him and it’s turning him on even more. He’s not gonna let you have him so easily though, oh no, he’s gonna give you a taste of the teasing you gave him earlier. Just as he has you whimpering for him, he pulls away. He walks over to the trash can, bare feet on gritty pavement, tossing the remnants of the popsicle away. Turning back to face you, a grin spreads across his face and he goes running straight for the pool, completely naked, landing in the water with a huge splash. He comes back up for air with a gasp, hair sticking to his forehead.

“Eddieeeeee,” you whine between giggles, toes dangling into the water, watching him as he paddles around. “Need you,” you pout at him. “Now you’re being a tease.”

Your pussy throbs beneath skimpy bikini bottoms, so desperate for him to fill you. You can still taste him in your mouth, briny pre cum lingering in the back of your throat, and you chew on your lip in anticipation.

Eddie looks at you for a moment as he bobs in the water, arms splayed over his rescue tube that he snatched from beside the pool, keeping him effortlessly afloat. He has to hold back a devious laugh when he gets an idea. He paddles closer to the ledge where you sit, pulling the safety equipment from under his arms, holding it out to you.

“Show me how bad you need me, baby. Why don’t you ride that, and pretend it’s me,” he smirks at you, only growing more satisfied when you fail to form words in response, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Go ahead, honey, don’t be all shy now. Grind on it,” Eddie commands, gesturing for you to get on with it.

You delicately wrap your fingers around the safety equipment, GUARD written in bulky white block letters on the side. You straddle the rubbery red tube, one end of the object brushing against your clothed clit as you position yourself. An involuntary moan escapes your lips even at the minimal contact, and Eddie huffs a laugh, face sickeningly smug. Your face heats up instantly, suddenly ten times more aware of his eyes on you, like a specimen under a microscope. Your eyebrows knit together in concentration as you find a comfortable rhythm, riding the slippery material in desperation, dying to soothe the heat between your thighs. Pitiful mewls escape your lips, and Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, feels good, huh?” Eddie says, his tone mocking.

You want to reply with something witty, don’t want to give in this easy, but your core aches and pleads for more. Instead you whimper, wiggling your hips lower to rub across the tube, material dragging underneath your clit. The friction is so good, your hands grabbing desperately at the flat pavement beneath you, seeking purchase on anything and failing to find it. Your hips have found a steady pace, grinding against the spongey edge of the object, hair falling in your face with your head hung low. You moan his name and Eddie instinctively reaches down to palm at his hard cock. He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but all he can think about is how he’s going to be using that same equipment during his shift tomorrow, keeping this little secret all to himself. Your cheeks are flushed with arousal yet also a slight twinge of embarrassment as Eddie watches you come undone on a fucking rescue buoy, pretending it’s his muscular thigh you’re riding. You soak the material beneath you as your legs tremble, glancing up at Eddie with pouty lips, silently pleading for him to have his way with you.

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie murmurs, reaching up from the water to brush hair out of your face. “Get in here with me, take everything off,” his eyes are dark as they watch you, standing up on shaky legs.

You shuffle out of your swimsuit bottoms, untying the straps on your top and letting it drop to the ground. You ease yourself into the water, cold touching every inch of your sun soaked skin as you lower your body in. Your feet touch the smooth bottom of the pool, water rising up to your breasts, making you shiver. Eddie pulls you to his chest immediately, naked bodies radiating warmth onto each other in the cool chlorinated liquid surrounding you. Darkness seems to have crept further in now, like a blanket shielding your naked bodies from the rest of the world, keeping these secrets for you. Eddie brushes your hair to one side, kissing and licking at your neck as his hands find their way to the globes of your ass, squeezing.

“Need to fuck you, baby, right here,” he says, voice muffled slightly as he presses kisses to your shoulder.

“You’re sure no one will catch us, right?” you breathe out, voice wavering slightly as his lips tickle your skin.

“It’s just you and me, honey. No one will catch us. Promise,” he’s pulled away from you, looking you straight in the eye so you take him seriously.

And he’s telling the truth. The cops make their rounds nightly, stopping by the pool at 10:30pm on the nose every. single. night. Eddie knows this partly because of several almost-busted drug deals he’s attempted to host late at night in the pool parking lot, and partly from stories he’s heard from other people who’ve tried to have late night swims in private. Given the fact that their whole goal is to catch people doing illegal things, the cops have really become far too predictable, doing their routine runs and making the same stops in the same order over and over. Eddie chuckles to himself as he thinks of this, pulling you even closer to him, giddy with the promise of more time alone with you.

He lifts you slightly and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He dips his head down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his hands toy with the fat of your ass. His mouth sucks bruises into the skin around your breasts, teeth biting at the skin just for his tongue to soothe it afterwards. You can feel his cock pressing against you and you squirm in Eddie’s grip, aching to be full of him. His blunt fingernails dig into your skin where he grips you, mouth finding its way up your neck and to your ear, leaving kisses in its wake.

“Want me to fill you up, honey?” his voice rasps in your ear, cold wet hair tickling the side of your face.

“Y-yeah, fuck,” you inhale sharply as he sucks on your earlobe, pulling it gently between his teeth.

He pins you against the side of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him as he attempts to line himself up with your entrance. You finally feel him slip in, both of you letting out heavy sighs at the feeling. You swear you can feel him in your guts by the time he’s fully inside you, and your body feels like it’s going to short circuit from sheer pleasure. He bucks up into you, teeth biting hard on his bottom lip, brows furrowed as he concentrates on making you feel good. Water ripples around you with every movement, sloshing gently around your partially submerged bodies. Your fingernails claw at the soft skin of his back, sure to leave scratches on the otherwise empty canvas. Eddie’s barely keeping himself together as he fucks you, his pace less brutal than round one in the shower, but you feel too good around him and he finds it hard to will himself not to cum so soon. You’re so tight around him, so warm, and every time your muscles clench he’s cursing under his breath. You lean your head forward, resting it on his shoulder, incredibly grateful for Eddie’s tight grip on you - your body is far too overwhelmed with pleasure to focus on keeping yourself upright, limbs feeling like jello. Eddie’s hips snap into you with a particularly rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot in just the right way, and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle a cry.

“Right there, baby? Y’like that?” Eddie’s voice is low and hovering just above your ear, sending a shiver right down your spine.

“Feels so good, love when you fuck me Eddie,” you moan, and god Eddie swears he could die from the sound of you saying his name alone.

He continues to plow into you at just the right angle, hands fighting to keep their grip on your ass, skin growing slippery from the water. You’re close, Eddie can tell by the way your breathing is staggered and your eyes are pinched shut, his name tumbling out of your mouth in barely coherent strings.

“E-Eddie, ‘m so close,” you whimper, confirming his suspicions.

“Me too, honey, fuck,” Eddie’s panting, hips faltering slightly in their movements as he pushes his body through water.

“Wanna ride you, Eddie, please,” you beg him, and he pulls out of you almost instantly, hoisting himself out of the pool.

“Come on then, baby, what’re you waiting for?” he smirks, laying back onto your towel, the thin layer of fabric easing the roughness of laying on pavement.

You follow him out of the pool, water dripping everywhere as you straddle his lap on shaky knees. You sink down onto his cock, hips falling into the same rhythm they’d had on Eddie’s rescue gear earlier, this time feeling so enticingly full. Eddie groans as your gooey walls envelope him, gripping onto your waist to ground himself. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach once again as you rock yourself on top of him, the new angle stretching you in different ways. You bring a tentative hand down to rub circles on your clit, the sensitive bud begging for more attention. Eddie can’t help himself, he starts rutting up into you, trying to match your pace. He’s right on the edge of bliss but determined to get you there first, pushing himself as deep inside of you as he’ll go. He’s sick with lust as he watches you ride him, delirious with the way your tits bounce with every jolt of your body.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, don’t stop,” you warn, fingers moving quicker on your clit, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Not planning on it, sweetheart,” Eddie grunts, driving into you again and again as you squirm on top of him.

A few more thrusts from him and you feel the rope finally snap, hunched over Eddie’s body as you come undone around him. Your chest heaves as you work through your high, walls fluttering harshly around Eddie’s throbbing length. You feel like your bones turned to mush as Eddie keeps bucking his hips into you, your limbs tingling with the overstimulation of it all. You press chaste kisses to his neck as his moans grow louder, biting and licking at his skin before he finally reaches release. He paints your insides for what feels like forever, loosening his grip on your sides when he’s finally done.

“Shit, honey. Milked me fuckin’ dry,” Eddie laughs, breathing heavy with exertion.

You giggle as you slowly pull off of him, a mix of your release and his leaking out of you, sliding slowly down your thighs. Eddie sits up beside you and you pull him in for a lazy kiss, sloppy lips on lips and tongues peeking out to greet each other. Pulling away, Eddie glances over at the clock hanging on the wall near the locker rooms. It reads just about 10 o’clock. He huffs a sad sigh as he turns back to you.

“We should probably get going, baby. Cops usually show up pretty soon,” Eddie stands, holding a hand out to help you up as well.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pitiful pout as you rise from your sitting position, earning a laugh from Eddie.

“Wish we could just stay here all night,” your pout persists as your press your palms to his chest, scrunching your nose when he kisses it.

“Trust me, honey, you’ll be seeing more of me. No way you’re getting rid of me now,” Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek, attempting to suppress his smirk.

You wait for him by the gate as he covers the rest of the pool and puts his equipment in his locker, admiring every stride his long legs take, thin frame lit up only by the light of the moon and the subtle glow of the flickering lamps in the parking lot. He jogs over to you, kissing you sweetly as his hands unlatch the gate behind you, metal scraping on metal as it opens. He walks you to your car, shaggy wet curls falling over his shoulders as he leans through the window to give you one more kiss goodnight. You pull a pen from your glovebox, writing your phone number in blue ink on his wrist, then kissing the back of his hand before letting him go. He keeps looking over his shoulder at you as he walks to his beat up van, giving you a little wave as you pull out of your parking spot.

Almost as soon as you get home, your phone rings - and you have a feeling it might be one particular lifeguard you know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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riaki · 3 months

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sick days ! gojo x reader ‧˚ - take a soda break…!

the rain outside your window is incessant.

it slides down the foggy glass panes in small rivulets that merge together and break apart, like the people outside on different paths of life. a sea of umbrellas moves like liquid in the streets below; a school of fish in a rainy city, under those fluorescent neons that shine like vibrant coral in the puddles of rain on the concrete.

there’s beauty even in the humid showers of tokyo, reflected in the broken lights and flickering signs; those food stalls full of warm life and fancy clothing stores that you always go in just to not buy anything, and best of all— the vending machines that dot the map.

watching raindrops race was one of your favorite hobbies as a kid. even now, you find yourself absentmindedly tracking the movements; the erratic nature of the blurry droplets as they slide down the glass makes you wonder if there’s hidden ridges on the panels that guide those watery paths.

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by another bout of coughing; that dry, itching feeling in your throat that you just can’t get rid of. drinking water to quell the cough has the same effect as telling your study buddy to stay focused for longer than five minutes. gojo is playing something on his phone again; a rhythm game, by the way he curses under his breath every time his fingers stutter and miss a beat.

you cover your mouth with your elbow, trying to expel the ghost dust that makes your breath hitch every time you try to speak, and he glances up at you, shifting in his seat. his lanky legs are cramped beneath the desktop; his frame doesn’t fit in your room. he has to duck when he enters, lest he hit his head like the first time he came over. like you, he has his head resting in his elbows. unlike you, he isn't ill with a fever so hot it burns cold and the stuffiness in your voice, and he also isn't studying.

"you sure you still wanna be reviewing? this exam doesn't really matter, y'know." gojo remarks, peering up at you from his arm pillow. "you should probably take a break, ’cus you look like shit."

he grins cheekily, pushing a pile of his papers and notes to the edge of the desk, where eraser shavings and broken bits of lead from when he couldn't solve a math problem are crammed. there's scratches and ink stains on the desk, a reminder of how you'd accidentally scribbled past the page’s edge in a sickness induced delirium. it’ll leave permanent marks; at this point you’re convinced you’re writing yourself a secret letter to the future. have you confessed to gojo yet? that’s what it’ll say. right now, it just says something unintelligible.

hopefully you’re still literate in the future, but you’re half-convinced you’re getting dumber every moment you spend caged in with this dunce of a genius.

you lean back in your chair, pulling your knee up to your chest. your pencil falls to the desk with a faint clack, soft yellow lamplight washing your faces warm as gojo scoots closer and peers over your shoulder at your progress. he has a pandora’s box of knowledge in that blue-tinted brain of his; he just refuses to apply it. it’s cocky, spoiled ego in the finest. you should hate him for it.

he snickers. "you're dumb."

"you missed forty-three notes." you countered, shooting him a glare as you point at the disappointed looking character next to a review of the stats from the song he was playing on his phone. gojo grimaces, pulling back like a sad little dog, floppy white hair covering his eyes.

"i was playing with my thumbs."

you ignore him, leaning against the wooden desk before hiding your face in your elbows again and letting out a long sigh. your hot breath curls up in the confines of your body, making you recoil slightly; uncomfortably. heat is the last thing you need with the fever you’re pretty sure you’re running.

"i hate being sick. and i hate studying. can we please give up?" you complained, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. your hair obscures your vision, so you can only see a faint glint of amusement in his azure irises as he studies you for a moment before scooting his chair back and standing up. without another word, he leaves the room.

wow. okay.

a moment of silence passes as you sit there, lamenting over your runny nose and the way you sound like you're about to cough a lung up every time you breathe, until you hear the soft sounds of his feet padding on the floorboards coupled with what you presume is ice clinking against glass, signaling his return. you lift your head, blinking blearily. each time you breathe in through your nose, your nostrils burn like dry ice pressed against your skin, only adding to your misery. the dreary weather outside isn't helping much, either.

the cold glass leaves a dark stain on the table, an uneven circle of condensation that soothes the aching in your fingers when your sick skin makes contact. gojo pops the can open, and you watch as he picks the glass up, tilting it to the side to pour the soda in.

“why are you holding it like that?” you asked curiously, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lean against the table. he glances down at you, a cheeky, tiny smile gracing his lips. the sound of bubbles fizzling and popping fills the cozy, cramped room; that cool, sweet liquid seems like the only thing that’ll cure your nasty cough.

“pouring it like this prevents the bubbles from escaping. you like it fizzy, don’t you?” he grins.

condensation clings to his fingers like morning dew upon flower petals as he sets the glass down. you watch the ice cubes bobble about in the soda, clinking against the cup like a mini wind chime. you’re sore from sitting in the same place with terrible posture for three hours, and there’s an ache between your fingers from gripping your pencil tight while you write.

you take a sip from the glass, letting out a contented sigh as the refreshing liquid drains down your scratchy throat. it’s not lemon honey tea for a cold, but it certainly helps. next to you, gojo takes his seat again, grabbing the throw blanket on your bed and tossing it over his legs before he grabs his pencil again. he’s using one of those short pencils, shaved down to a stub from months of use. you always offer him a mechanical pencil, but he refuses.

you sit there, waiting for him to get back to work before you realize he’s staring at you, legs crossed beneath the fuzzy blanket.

you frowned, shifting to face him as you lean against the desk. “what?”

“you’ll take care of me if i get sick too, right?” he tilts his head, like a curious bird.

“why would you get sick?”

you’re too relate to react when he makes a mad grab for your glass of soda, holding it out of your reach. a few droplets spill out and spatter onto your notebook, forcing a sigh from your lips.

“gojo…” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your fingers and praying for strength.

he just smirks, taking a lengthy sip. you watch his adam’s apple bob as a bit of condensation builds on his chin and trickles down his throat.

“you know what? i dont feel like studying either.” he announces, setting the glass back down on the wooden table with a loud thunk.

“so? what do you wanna do?” you huffed petulantly.

“download project sekai, and we can do a co-op live.”

“…you’re kidding.”

#billet-doux #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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back2bluesidex · 8 months

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Rainy Days - KTH

Pairing: Ex-Taehyung X Fem!reader

Summary: All Taehyung could remember is you, on a rainy day like this.

Wordcount: 872

Theme: Exes au, Angst, a follow-up drabble for Baggage.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, Tae suffers from guilt, he writes a reply to reader's letter. SFW.

Minors and Karens are not allowed in this blog.

A/N: This idea has been sitting on my head ever since I heard the song. So, it's here as a follow-up drabble for Baggage. and I am really sorry for this poor quality banner.

Taehyung’s phone goes off with a few rapid notifications again.

He pauses his task of shoving a spoonful of that honey flavored cereal that you love so much and hurriedly clutches his phone.

Again, it’s not what he expected. Again, it’s not you.

Placing his phone upside down, he goes back to what he is doing.

As he munches on the cereal, which he finds delicious now, he recalls how he lashed out on you once for buying this same thing over and over again.

“Why do I have to eat what you prefer? Can’t you buy something else for me? Don’t you know I can’t bear the same shit for a long time.” Taehyung semi-screams.

“I called you for like four times in a row while I was grocery shopping. But you, being you, never answered once. So I chose this, since you initially liked this cereal.” You reply calmly, “and I know you can’t bear the same shit for a long time, like me.” You whispered, but he heard it loud and clear.

Taehyung doesn’t reply anything. He obviously ignored your calls intentionally and you seem to know it.

He sighs at the memory.

How stupid he had been back then. How cruel he must have been to let you down so easily, to let you go as if that’s no big deal. How delusional he must have been to seek warmth in unfamiliar embraces when you were there to give your everything to him.

Now that he reflects on his wrong doings, he realizes what he has lost. He lost a part of himself, the part that was genuinely happy.

A lone tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek, he sniffles. Looking up at the glass window he finds the sky crying along with him.

Whenever it rains, he only thinks of you. He thinks of that rainy day and your first date. You two shared an umbrella since two broke college students couldn’t afford more than one 7/11 umbrella. Both of you got soaked and your pretty white trench coat got a big ugly yellow patch. You mentioned it in your letter. That letter, damn.

Taehyung clutches his phone again, he dials your number and watches as it goes into voicemail. Nothing new. The same thing has been happening ever since he started calling you, ever since your letter arrived.

He opens the messaging app and types and deletes, types and deletes. He thinks about what to say, how to explain he has been so lost without you, how to apologize for being so cruel. He finds no words, no justification, no expression. Nothing.

Then finally he decides upon something…

Running back to his office, he grabs his notepad and a pen. He sits down by the window, in his notoriously butt-shaped chair and starts writing.

Dear Y/N, Lately I have been thinking about you. Well, to be honest, I have been thinking about you ever since your letter arrived. I won’t say your letter woke me up and made me realize how wrong I was. Because deep down I always knew I was wrong, I was cruel but was too adamant and egoistic to come clean. But, your letter, your words have definitely punched me hard on my gut, knocked every little bit of air I have been breathing. And I have been breathless ever since. I will not apologize over this letter. If I ever see you again, I will make sure to let you know the amount of guilt and regret that has been burdening me, through my actions. I will. I promise. I have been calling you a lot lately, even when I don’t know what I should say. It’s good that you don't pick it up. I don’t know if you will be reading my texts or not, so I decided against it too. Rather I decided to write this letter, so that I can at least be sure about this piece of paper reaching your address. If you still live there you will get it right away and if you don’t, you will be coming to pick up your mail and find it. You will at least see me replying to you even if you choose not to read it. I will be satisfied with that much. Or will I? I don’t know, really. Because what I really want is to go back to the time I shared with you. Time with you was so amazing and I was genuinely at my happiest. That part of me hasn't changed, it’s still the same. I know it’s too late but somehow.. Can we go back to that moment again? I know, I have no right to say this, but let me make up for all the time we lost. We can start again, I will open all the doors I had closed. I promise I will treat you right this time. I am a mess here. I can feel your touch. I remember your kiss and those hurtful words. And I miss you. I miss you like crazy, Y/N. I want to go back to you, right into your arms, on rainy days like this. Always yours, Taehyung.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel

#bts angst #taehyung angst #bts taehyung #bts fanfiction #taehyung x y/n #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x reader

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strxytwig · 6 days

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Gojo Got Drunk

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

Summary: You went out for your annual holiday drinks with some coworkers. This year, Gojo drank something other than soda. You weren't ready for the antics.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Gojo being drunk, slight angst

A/N: Doing a small character study with this blue eyed princess. I also haven't written in months and I'm extremely rusty af

You found Gojo’s bobbing figure amusing, like watching one of those bendy inflatables. He sluggishly clung to whoever was nearest, face colored red from drinking and his head lolled side to side between conversation. The first victim of the night, Nanami, could only handle his drunk antics for so long before he slid out of the booth and left the white-haired sorcerer moping and making grabby hands to anyone whose name he could drunkenly sound out.

Normally, Gojo composed himself when out for drinks. He stuck to soda or a mocktail while acting the biggest fool among other drunks. How he let himself go tonight made no sense to the rest of you, nor were you that concerned. He acted no different to any other day, albeit a little clingier. Gojo was always loud.

"He's an idiot," Shoko said when you stared too long at his bobbing head. You turned your attention to her as she filled your glasses for the third round. "I doubt he even had two drinks."

"Yeah." You laughed to yourself, shifting in your booth seat. "It's kind of funny." You looked back at him when he toyed with the tiny umbrella in his drink. His mouth dropped in a pout with the overhead light reflecting off of his shades. "I don't think I've ever seen him drunk."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. He's not going to drink again after this."

You hummed. "Guess he really is a lightweight."

"Nice bracelet," Shoko said. You looked down to where she pointed at the shiny bangle on your wrist. "Where'd you get it?"

"I got it as a present from my mom." You twisted your wrist a little to show it off. "Between this or the fuzzy socks I got from her and the fountain pen from my dad, this one seemed appropriate for tonight."

"Would have loved to see you in your fuzzy socks." Shoko rested her chin in her hand.

"Yeah, I guess." You set your wrist down and shrugged. "I don't know. It feels like we're not close anymore."

"Are you going home for New Year's?"

You shook your head. "No point in trying."

She narrowed her eyes. "I get it." She sighed and took a drink from her glass. "It's a tough job with tough hours."

"Sometimes, I wonder if I should have taken my cousin's advice and worked an office job." You pouted. "Then again, that's a whole different hell."

"No rest for the wicked."

"No." You sighed and sank deeper into your chair.

An arm quickly slung around your shoulder. At the same moment, they tugged, dragging you down into someone's chest. You floundered and stabilized yourself before you could fall out of the booth. Your hands gripped the table for purchase. Your heart raced from the jolt

"Why the long face?" Gojo chastised you,bending his knees. "It's Christmas Eve. You should be happy!"

You frowned at him. "Gojo!"

"Satoru!" He cheered with a big grin.

"Why aren't you at your booth?" You attempted to look over his shoulder at the long-abandoned booth, but Gojo pulled you closer.

"I got lonely. Nobody would sit with me." He leaned closer to look at both you and Shoko. "But that's fine because I got you two lovelies."

"Count me out." Shoko slipped out of her side of the boot and grabbed her drink. "I don't need a headache this early in the night."

You watched her helplessly. "Shoko."

"Take care." She half-heartedly waved before weaving around the bar to a different group.

You tried to follow her with your eyes, hoping she'd feel the heat of your stare, but Gojo wedged himself into the seat beside you clumsily with his arm still around your shoulders. He laughed boisterously and set his drink with the tiny umbrella on the table beside yours. Every move he made only jostled you.

"What's up!"

You frowned and tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "Gojo..."

"Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" He tilted his head down, correcting it when it started to roll.

"Yes." You looked away flustered. "Many times."

"It's cute when you play hard-to-get."

The alcohol burned your cheeks. "We're dating."

"You don't act like it." He absentmindedly blew air into your face.

"That's-" You were at a loss.

He wasn't wrong. The two of you started dating four months prior, after his constant and incessant flirting. Contrary to popular belief, you were the one to ask him out. It took small deliberation on his part before he agreed to be your boyfriend, only after you swore it didn't have to be serious. He didn't like serious. You accepted that.

So, the sudden personality flip this past month embarrassed you to no end. He was touchy and affectionate like no tomorrow. You struggled to keep up with this change. It happened out of nowhere. From casual dates and hookups to him being everything he agreed not to be. You worried you'd find a heart box of chocolates on your counter tomorrow morning for Christmas.

"What, you don't like me?" He pouted and leaned closer.

"I like you," you assured, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from falling onto you. "I'm just- you're drunk and you won't remember this tomorrow. So, I don't see why we should discuss it now."

"I'll remember." He pulled away to pout more. "I'm not going to forget what you said."

"Gojo." You sighed and started over. "Satoru-"

He hummed in content and fell into you, burying his face in your neck. "Yeah?"

"Why are you so...different?"

He slumped against your shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You weren't like this a month ago." You tried to pull away to look at him, but he wrapped his arm around your side, keeping you locked in place. "You're really touchy."

"I'm your boyfriend," he answered breezily, if a little slurred. "I want to be a good boyfriend."

Your stomach twisted into a knot. "Satoru-"

"I love you," he muttered. He buried himself into your neck more. "Is that what you want to hear?"

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You lost your breath, trying to decide if what you heard was real. It was a mistake. He mumbled and you misheard.

"What?"

He nuzzled your neck. "I love you," he said with more clarity.

"Satoru." You managed to nudge him away so you could look at him properly. You pushed his shades up to his hairline and saw his eyes for the first time that night. Red-rimmed and shiny with unshed tears. You inhaled softly. "Satoru, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I love you." He turned you to him and held you by the shoulders. "That's enough, right?"

The look in his eyes told you he wasn't all there. As if he was looking right through you. You ignored the rest of the noise from the bar and focused on Satoru. Even if he weren't drunk, you would be worried.

"Yes. Of course, that's enough." You nodded your head.

"You don't have to love me back," he said, pulling you into a hug as he buried his head in your shoulder. "It's okay. Don't leave."

"I won't." You returned the hug. Was this moving too fast? Were you ready for the next step in your relationship? Would he feel the same way in the morning? Would you? It didn’t matter."And I love you too."

He laughed breathlessly into your shirt. "Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask."

He pulled away slightly to bring his mouth to yours. It was slow and hesitant, the way he hovered. In the long second he hesitated, you wondered what would come of this. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before he closed his eyes and relinquished himself to the kiss. You reciprocated with ease, relaxing your body and melting into him.

When he broke the kiss, he buried his face in your shoulder again. "I love you, Suguru."

Your heart stopped beating.

Satoru nuzzled you closer. "Don't leave this time."

You swallowed dryly.

He slumped against you. "I love you."

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #omg why isn't this post showing up in the tagssss

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nozkphotography · 1 year

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Shinjuku Gyoen, Tokyo

April, 15th, 2023

#leica #black and white photography #photographers on tumblr #original photographers #street photography #rain #umbrellas #light and shadow #reflection

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radioactivemelody · 7 months

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After a long, excruciating wait, our suffering shall end. I literally woke up with this trailer being shown EVERYWHERE.

And it is only natural for me to analyze frame by frame because I'm so, so hyped today. So, let's get into it.

Understanding the new trailer

The trailer opens with a phone call and what appears to be a young girl talking to Homura.

The entire sequence makes me understand that the Magical Girls knows, at some point, what Homura did. They are aware she isn't their Law of Cycles, asking if she can accept the risks and responsibilities.

Now, the risks and responsibilities of what? Of being essentially the replacements for what Madoka Kaname, the Law of Cycles, was? The salvation of all Magical Girls?

Which is promptly replied by Homura, who asks if they can fight against the curse of this world? I still haven't understood what she meant with that. The curse of this world? The witches, perhaps? But she says "curse", not "curses" as in plural. It is just one, singular curse.

Walpurgisnacht.

And then, the trailer begins to show a black and white sequence of Homura. Only Homura, from the anime to the last movie, Rebellion. The voice says there is only one thing she can do and that's love. They call her "Akuma-san", which translates to "Devil".

This part here intrigues me the most. They say she is a Magical Girl they don't know. And keep asking to bring hope, just bring hope, release that girl.

Which strengths my previously mentioned theory. The Magical Girls from the new world appear to have some type of acknowledgement that Homura isn't the Law of Cycles from before. They are asking for her to bring hope back. To bring Madoka back, thus, asking, demanding for her to release that girl. Release Madoka back so she can return to being the Law of Cycles.

They know Homura isn't their savior, that she is a false god who took the place from their true, original goddess and savior. And maybe, they might rally to overthrow her and put Madoka back in her place.

Look how Madoka's name is inside quotation marks. We kind of know post-Rebellion Madoka is just a Madoka without her memories of being a goddess, helpless to fight back because Homura keeps beaming her with a memory-wiping laser. This Madoka is not the original Madoka, just a shell, a reflection of what Homura desires her to be.

…A new Magical Girl? She wields Homura's bow after Madoka's divine ascension, her outfit resembles Homura's and has Mami's ribbons. What the hell is going over here? I saw someone saying that it might be an artificially created Magical Girl by Homura in order to defeat Walpurgisnacht but honestly, I have NO idea.

This frame in particular. Homura's uniform is a tad different from what we are accustomed to see. Also, the umbrella. It resembles way too much the bottom part of Walpurgisnacht's dress. I might be reading it in a nonsensical way but look, the movie is called Walpurgisnacht: Rising, everything counts at this point.

And just like Rebellion, this movie will be gorgeous in the visual aspect.

Aside from everyone getting some improvement in their outfits, we have Sayaka. Oh, Sayaka. She has ribbons(?) in her mouth.

When Homura became the Devil, remember who was the first person from the quartet to see her? Exactly, Sayaka did. In a way, Sayaka is the bearer of the truth. She knows the world they're living in is fake. She knows what happened to Madoka. And yet, she can't propagate the truth. Not even to herself because she can't remember.

Those ribbons in her mouth might symbolize the fact Homura silenced her from telling the truth. And if they end up remembering, she is going to be the first.

Everyone talks about a confrontation between Madoka and Homura but let me enlighten you: a confrontation between Homura and Sayaka. Scene absolutely worthy of every Oscar ever known. This is true cinema.

AND THE CLARA DOLLS ARE BACK!!! And in this scene we have three of them. I tried to identificate them but due to the "simplism" of them, it's kind of hard but hey, I tried! I might be wrong but anyways.

From left to right: Manuke (stupid-looking), Usotsuki (liar) e Warukuchi (slanderer).

Considering the Clara Dolls represent Homura's emotions and flaws… Yeah, our girl is suffering. Prepare for another movie that will wrench your heart beyond recognition.

#when this movie come out all of you are NOT hearing the end out of me #i will rant about it whenever i can #I WAS WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT 🔥🔥🔥🔥#puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #pmmm #walpurgis no kaiten

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katsukikitten · 1 year

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It's raining, fucking pouring cats and dogs on the one day you forgot not just your umbrella but your coat too.

Once starched white shirt clinging to like a second skin, showing off your bra, forcing you to cover your chest with your goose flesh arms as you step from the platform into the freezing train.

Shivering, trying to stick to the corner of the late night train as many eyes are glued to you. Typical of your luck to get soaked the one day you decide to wear white.

What you aren't expecting is a big, warm jacket to fall over your shoulders, making you jump.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." His voice is deep but soft. Mop of emerald curls as he gives a slight bow with closed eyes indicating the smile hidden under the cloth mask on his face. He steps back to where he was standing on the train and suddenly not one person sends a look your way.

You watch him in the reflection of the glass as the train speeds past the city. He's big, muscular under his lose t-shirt and you're surprised you hadn't noticed him when you stepped into the car. You noticed the guy sitting all the way at the other end, the only other woman at the door and the teenagers out waaay too late for a weeknight.

But for whatever reason you hadn't noticed the hulking man.

The train stops a few times and empties slowly, leaving you, the woman and the large man.

Your stop is coming up, shedding the jacket to return to him and he just shakes his head.

"No need." Still that soft, calm voice and smile.

"But I have no way of returning it."

"That's alright. I can always get another." But when you look down at the jacket you can tell it's well loved. Worn but not threadbare.

"But you like this one, the sleeves say so. It must be your favorite." You present him the sleeves, your job giving you an even keener eye but all he can see is your nails, "At least give me your number so I can return it. Thank you with a coffee."

She doesn't mean it like that she doesn't mean it like that.

He repeats in his head before he stammers a small "Wh-what?"

"Oh see." You take his phone from the pocket of the jacket, "It is your favorite."

You flash the screen to his face to get it to unlock before you're going to his messages, adding your number and texting yourself.

"There. Now you can't ignore me for coffee got it?" You smile up at him and his heart lodges in his throat, cheeks flushed.

"Y-yes ma'am." The train announces your stop and you step off the train with a thank you and wave.

He never expected to be over top of you in your plush bed a few days later. Wrapping his arms around you tight enough it bruises in the best way adding another fuck buddy into your life by accident.

Except this one sees you once a month, is kind except during sex, and after he acts like he's been your boyfriend for years. It's dizzying.

You weren't supposed to be something he returns to but he does. He truly never expected to get attached as he always kept everyone just close though they thought they knew him but they didn't.

And you didn't know or expect that you had pro hero Deku pinning over you.

#kitten writes Izuku 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️

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wherethefireliliesgrow · 10 months

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Clerestory Rendezvous

Yoo Jimin x Reader

GENRE: bittersweet, fluff

TYPE: One Shot

Karina, her collar pulled up to shield herself from the chilly November air, hastened her steps along the stony road toward the cathedral. The drizzling rain intensified the coldness, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms beneath her thin sweater. She inwardly cursed for forgetting to bring an umbrella, but quickly adjusted her golden locks under her baseball cap and ascended the final set of stairs with determination.

Karina was in France for the week, as part of AESPA's world tour for the European leg. With Gislle's help, she managed to slip away from her manager's watchful eyes and embarked on a solo train journey from Paris to Lyon. While Karina had a genuine love for Paris, she had grown weary of the constant red carpets and the intrusive camera flashes that followed her everywhere she went. Above all, she needed some space away from Winter, her bandmate and former lover. All she longed for was a peaceful escape, where she could remain anonymous for a few days. That was why she found herself shivering in the rain, making her way towards another captivating cathedral that had caught her attention.

Standing in front of the towering wooden doors of the cathedral, Karina drew in a breath in awe.Despite the early hour, the darkness of the approaching night seemed to envelop the limestone structure, enhancing its celestial beauty. The warm glow of candlelight danced on the reflective stone walls, while hushed prayers reverberated throughout the sacred space.

Karina settled onto the smooth wooden bench at the front of the cathedral, her hands instinctively finding their place on her chest as she prepared to immerse herself in a sincere prayer. Her gaze wandered upward, drawn to the mesmerizing play of muted colors that scattered through the clerestory windows above. The ethereal light painted the stone walls, infusing the space with a captivating warmth that seemed to beckon her deeper into the sacred embrace of the cathedral.

With every ounce of her being, Karina hoped and prayed for the solace she so desperately sought, yearning to escape the clutches of heartbreak that had plagued her for far too long. As tears traced their path down her cheeks, each droplet carrying the weight of her emotions, Karina tenderly wiped them away, her touch gentle against her dampened skin. It felt as though an eternity had passed, time distorted in the depths of her inner turmoil. Gradually, she allowed her eyes to flutter open, and in that moment, she found herself captivated by a pair of soft brown eyes, gleaming with a mix of curiosity and understanding, on the bench next to hers.

Startled, the owner of those eyes quickly averted their gaze, fumbling with the contents of their backpack in a flurry of nervousness. Karina's pulse quickened, uncertainty washing over her. “Does she know who I am?” She muttered in panic.

But before Karina could rise from the bench, the girl timidly approached her, clutching something in her hand.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding. It's just that you seemed like you needed this," the girl said softly, placing a packet of tissues in Karina's hands.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Karina scrutinized the unfamiliar girl before her. She appeared to be around the same age, her eyes wide and brown, adorned with delicate dimples that graced the corners of her mouth. Dressed in a cozy white fur coat and jeans, she had an undeniable cuteness about her. Karina couldn't help but be momentarily captivated, momentarily forgetting that she may be unintentionally staring at the stranger like a creep.

You faltered under the intense gaze of the mystery blonde, whom you happened to spot crying during your weekly visits to the town cathedral. As an art student studying in France, you often frequented this particular cathedral to capture the enchanting play of light on its walls.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," you apologized again, breaking Karina out of her trance.

"No, it's fine. Thank you for the tissues," Karina responded with a warm smile, causing your heart to skip a beat at her effortless beauty.

With her finely sculpted features, luminous eyes, and cupid's bow lips, Karina seemed like the most magnificent sight to behold in the Musée du Louvre. She appeared almost too perfect to be human, but her gentle smile and tear-stained face served as a reminder of her humanity.

You bit your tongue, feeling slightly self-conscious, and shifted your gaze to the marble floors, averting your eyes from the angelic figure before you. After a brief moment of contemplation, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper, placing it in Karina's hands. Confusion flickered across Karina's face as she gingerly unfolded the paper.

To her surprise, it revealed a sketch of her side profile, captured in the act of gazing at the clerestory windows through the lens of her film camera. Though rendered solely in pencil, the drawing was truly captivating. It skillfully portrayed the melancholic expression on Karina's face, capturing her soft features and the essence of her being. The picture seemed to convey a thousand words, telling Karina's story.

"I'm an art major," You explained awkwardly, attempting to justify yourself and prove that you weren’t just a creep but rather someone with an obsession for capturing the beauty of art.

"Usually, I focus on architectural design. Figure drawing isn't really my forte, but you are perfect for it."

Karina raised an eyebrow and playfully smiled, "I'm perfect, huh?"

Blushing, you stumbled over your words, "I m-mean, perfect for capturing in artworks. You look like you have thousands of stories to tell."

"Thank you for the compliment, Miss..." Karina trailed off, expecting you to fill in the blank.

"Y/N. My name is Y/N," you replied.

Karina found the way you said your name so effortlessly comforting. Unlike her stage name, which felt like a heavy burden, the way your name rolled off your tongue seemed light and carefree. It made her realize how much she longed for that kind of simplicity.

"Well, Miss Y/N, can you sign the picture? I'd like to brag in the future that I met one of the most famous artists in the world," Karina grinned, although her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

You laughed and signed your name on the back of the paper. "What's your name?"

Karina hesitated, unsure whether to reveal her true identity. Even though you seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't be affected by her fame, she still wanted to keep it hidden.

"Jimin," she said, opting to give her Korean name.

"Jimin," you repeated with a smile. "I like your name."

Karina had never been particularly fond of her name, considering it too ordinary. But hearing you say it, with a hint of an accent, made it sound more intimate and endearing.

Before Karina could respond, a soft buzz from your phone interrupted the comfortable silence. You checked the message, grabbed your bag, and turned your attention back to Karina.

"I have to go. It's been very nice meeting you, Jimin," you said, extending your hand.

"You too, Y/N," Karina replied, clasping your hand in hers and shaking it gently. "Thank you for the picture. I really like it."

You shyly shrugged and began to walk away. However, after a few steps, you suddenly stopped and looked back at Karina.

"I hope you find your happiness," you said sincerely. "Whoever or whatever is making you cry alone in a foreign cathedral, it will pass."

Karina sat there in silence for an hour, pondering over the words you had spoken. She knew she deserved happiness, and she understood that her journey with Winter had come to an end. The fame that came with being an idol often left her feeling isolated and detached from the world. She was unhappy and lonely, but she had to conceal her emotions behind a mask of makeup and smiles.

It was pouring by the time Karina decided to leave the cathedral. The rain fell relentlessly from the night sky, as if the heavens themselves were shedding tears for her misfortunes. She stood in front of the towering wooden doors, feeling a mix of annoyance and despair.

Finding a place to stay without ending up drenched seemed like an impossible task. Frustrated, she paced back and forth for a few minutes, attempting to call an Uber but to no avail. Just as she was about to give up, a beaten-up faded blue truck pulled up, its headlights illuminating the church courtyard like a guiding light.

You swung open the truck door, umbrella in hand, and rushed towards Karina. She was pleasantly surprised, thinking that their brief encounter earlier in the day would be the last time she would see you.

"I noticed you didn't have an umbrella with you today," you panted, brushing raindrops off your jacket as you shielded Karina from the downpour.

"The rain can get pretty heavy towards the end of the year, so it's always a good idea to have one handy."

"Thank you," Karina murmured gratefully. She was taken aback by the kindness you were showing a stranger you had just met.

"Do you need a ride?" you asked, noticing that she had the Uber app open on her phone.

"It's okay," Karina shook her head, not wanting to impose any further. "I'm trying to catch an Uber."

"Getting an Uber here can be quite difficult. It's quite far from downtown Lyon," you explained, patting her shoulder to ease her nerves.

"Come on, I'll drive you to your hotel."

"I actually haven't booked one yet," Karina admitted, shivering from the rain.

Her clothes were soaked, and water dripped from her golden locks.

"It's fine. I can lend you some dry clothes first," you said, tugging the taller girl towards your truck, hoping silently that you weren't making a terrible mistake.

"Please don't be a serial killer. Please don't be a serial killer," you prayed in your mind.

It was unlike you to offer a ride to a stranger, let alone invite them into your home. But Jimin seemed like a nice girl, albeit a sad one.

You turned up the heat in your truck and reached under the car seat for a blanket to cover Karina.

"So..." you began, trying to break the silence as you carefully maneuvered through the dark, winding country roads. The rain continued to pour relentlessly.

"What brings you to Lyon?"

"Just to rest for a few days," Karina replied vaguely.

"How many days are you planning to stay? I can recommend a few places," you offered.

"I'll be here until Saturday, then I leave for Paris," Karina replied.

"Ah, the day after tomorrow," you nodded, squinting your eyes to see the road better. "Are you traveling alone?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Karina turned her body to face you. "Are you planning on abducting me?"

"What?" you spluttered, taken aback by the unexpected remark. "No! I just wanted to make sure you'll be fine."

Karina's laughter tinkled like music, her head thrown back in a melancholic yet beautiful display. She seemed like a damsel in distress, but you knew deep down that she was not someone who needed saving.

After half an hour of driving, you finally arrived at your flat in the city. It was a small two-bedroom apartment near your university, where you spent most of your days drawing until the sun rose, often with a glass of wine in hand as you raced against deadlines.

Karina followed you as you climbed a short flight of stairs to the second floor of the building. Your flat, although small, felt cozy and inviting. Art pieces adorned the walls, and various art supplies were scattered across the kitchen island. A small TV and a gray cushioned couch were positioned near the balcony door, while a large bookshelf filled with books occupied an entire wall.

You led Karina to your room. "You can find some spare clothes in my closet. The bathroom is down the hall."

Karina flashed you a grateful smile and slipped into your room to change into dry clothes.

With a sigh, you shrugged off your jacket and made your way to the kitchen. The exhaustion on Karina's face was evident, with dark circles under her eyes and a melancholic expression whenever she fell silent. Taking a look inside your fridge, you were relieved that you had gone grocery shopping the day before.

You decided to prepare a comforting meal of Bibimbap, guessing from her accent and mannerisms that Karina might also be Korean. Hoping to alleviate any homesickness she might be feeling, you set about making a traditional Korean dinner, accompanied by a bottle of French wine for a unique experience.

"It smells really good," Karina's soft voice echoed from behind you.

Turning around, you saw the taller girl wearing your thick university hoodie and sweatpants. She had removed her makeup, and the tips of her hair were slightly damp from the shower. You couldn't help but stare, finding her adorable and warm in your clothes, creating a sense of home.

"Thanks, I thought you might appreciate something familiar," you replied with a smile. Despite her towering height, she seemed small and vulnerable. The sadness in her eyes never seemed to fade, even when she laughed.

"Feel free to look around. The food will be ready in ten minutes."

Karina nodded and squeezed your arm in gratitude before wandering off to explore the living room. Being an avid reader, she perused your extensive bookshelves until she stopped at the end.

"You listen to Taeyeon?" she exclaimed, holding up an album by Taeyeon. "I thought you'd only listen to classical music or something."

"That's a bit stereotypical," you chuckled. "I actually stumbled upon her singing on the streets of Berlin during a show a few years ago and was immediately captivated by her talent. That girl can sing."

"Yeah, she's really talented," Karina agreed, gazing at the album cover of Taeyeon's album.

It felt surreal to her that she had lunch with Taeyeon just a few days ago, and now she was on the other side of the world conversing with one of her fans.

"And pretty too, just like you," you added. "You both have a similar aura."

Karina felt her face grow warm, quickly diverting her attention back to the bookshelf.

"Yeah, our company has a particular taste," she mumbled.

"Huh? What?" you asked, not catching her words clearly.

Shaking her head dismissively, Karina replied, "Oh, it's nothing."

It was a close call for Karina. She mentally scolded herself for almost revealing her connection with Taeyeon. You seemed observant, likely due to your artistic skills, and she didn't want to inadvertently disclose too much information.

Karina helped you bring the food out to the balcony, where a wooden table and chairs were set in the middle, along with a cozy bean bag chair in the corner and string lights adding a touch of charm.

The food you had prepared was delicious, and it made Karina long for home even more. Despite being extroverted, she rarely felt comfortable opening up to people so quickly. However, in your presence, she felt a calming effect, as if you made her forget the painful things that often plagued her thoughts.

Before she knew it, after three glasses of wine, Karina found herself pouring out her troubles to you. She rambled about a failed relationship, her head resting on your shoulder as you sat together on the bean bag. She waved her glass of wine emphatically as she spoke.

"How could she leave me for someone else when I gave her everything?" Karina slurred, sniffling from both tears and the cold.

You hummed in agreement before getting up to fetch a blanket for the drunken blonde.

"No, don't leave me!" Karina pouted. "Everybody leaves me."

Chuckling, you assured her, "I'm just getting a blanket for you." Her adorableness touched your heart, and the sight of her feeling so insecure and hurt awakened your protective instincts. You couldn't fathom why anyone would intentionally break her heart.

"If you come back safely, I'll give you a kiss," she declared, nodding to herself.

"It's best to save your kisses for someone you genuinely like," you laughed nervously, your heart fluttering at her words.

"I like you. You're so pretty and nice," Karina slurred, tilting sideways and giggling at you. "I'm a very good kisser, so it's a win-win situation."

Laughing again, you bent down to gently tuck her hair behind her ears. "You will find your happiness. If someone makes you break down in front of a stranger, seeking affirmation, then they're not worth your tears."

After rummaging for a spare blanket, you returned to the balcony only to find Karina fast asleep. Her head drooped with a half-empty glass cradled in her chest, her tears glistened on her pale cheeks under the now clear night sky, and the moonlight reflected on her halo of blonde hair.

"It's unfair how someone can be this beautiful even when they're drunk," you whispered to yourself, approaching the sleeping girl and carefully carrying her to your spare room.

Karina felt the sunlight on her face when she woke up. She kept her eyes closed and hummed in satisfaction at how comfortable she felt. It had been a while since she had slept so well. As she lay there for a few seconds, she suddenly realized that this wasn't her bed, and she couldn't recall going to a hotel. Panic set in, and she sat up quickly, scanning the room for any signs of danger.

The room she found herself in was cozy, with clean white sheets on a soft bed and a fluffy pillow that bore the imprint of her drool (she was a messy sleeper). Despite its small size, the room was meticulously decorated, with a polished desk and mahogany wooden closet doors. The scent of soft flowers and oil paint lingered in the air, a scent that reminded her of you.

You.

Groaning, she buried her face in the bed at the thought of you.

Yesterday, she had lost control and unloaded all her troubles onto you. She couldn't remember much, except for the way your eyes softened and how you wiped away her tears with your warm hands. She recalled feeling a tingly sensation when your eyes met, and she couldn't shake off the memory of wanting to lean over and kiss you. Being drunk was definitely a wrong move, and now she was experiencing a pounding headache from the hangover.

A soft knock came from the door, accompanied by your gentle voice, "Jimin? Are you awake? Can I come in?"

Karina quickly composed herself, sitting up straight and fixing her hair.

"Yeah, come in," she replied, clearing her throat a few times to dispel the sleepiness in her voice.

You entered the room with a plate of food in your hands and placed it gently on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed with concern. "I got you some medicine for the headache."

Karina squeezed your hand gratefully as she swallowed the aspirin with the water on the tray.

"Sorry for making you uncomfortable yesterday," she fidgeted, picking at the blueberry muffin you had prepared for her. "I'm normally not such a lightweight."

"You didn't," you assured her with a smile, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"I actually quite enjoyed your impromptu performance of Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance.'"

She groaned in embarrassment, and you couldn't help but laugh at how she could look so much like a little girl at times, especially when her playful side emerged.

Karina was captivated by your laughter, with your head thrown back and the silver frames of your glasses slipping down your nose. She thought you looked incredibly beautiful with your hair tied up in a bun and wearing an oversized sweater with shorts. She enjoyed the way you treated her, so gentle and kind, without a care in the world. She knew it was likely because you didn't know who she was, and she wanted to preserve this simplicity a little longer. Her heart unexpectedly yearned for you, and it left her both confused and happy.

"Spend the day with me," Karina blurted out.

"I mean, could you take me to some good places in Lyon? I could use a tour guide."

You raised an eyebrow at her sudden invitation. "Where did the mysterious brooding stranger from yesterday go?"

She gasped playfully, feigning offense. "Excuse you, I was not brooding. And I actually just wanted you to be my Uber driver."

You pushed her playfully, causing her to fall back onto the bed.

"Finish your breakfast and get changed. Your bags are in the closet."

The two of you headed to Parc de la Tête d'Or, your first stop—a beautiful garden with a lake and a small zoo. Karina had expressed her desire to go somewhere she could practice her photography, so you thought this would be the perfect place. It was one of your favorite spots, as you had spent countless hours there during your first year of college for one of your classes.

Karina was like a kid in a candy store, excitedly exploring and jumping around, eager to see everything. She took so many photos that you worried she would use up all her film before noon. It brought you joy to see her mood lifted, no longer carrying that haunting look in her eyes. She looked even more beautiful like this, if that was even possible—carefree and happy. You knew that your friendship was temporary, as Karina would be leaving for Paris early the next morning, but you were glad that you could bring a genuine smile to her face, even if only for a little while. You cared for her, perhaps even more than you should.

"Hey Y/N!" Karina called out from behind you, her voice filled with excitement.

Turning around with a smile, you were met with the sight of Karina snapping a photo of you.

"Hey!" you protested, realizing she had been capturing moments of you throughout the morning.

"What? I like to take photos of pretty things," she replied smoothly, taking your hand in hers and tugging you toward the lake.

You couldn't help but feel your ears heat up at her comment and the sensation of her warm hand interlocked with yours. She definitely wasn't making it easy for you.

After some persistent begging, Karina managed to convince you to go on a paddle boat with her. You had always been hesitant because of your limited swimming abilities, but her pouty face was impossible to resist.

"If you fall into the water, I'll save you," she said with a wink, exuding confidence in her flirting. "You could be my Lois Lane."

Her words sent your heart racing, and you knew you had to get used to her flirty manner. True to her word, when the boat nearly tipped after hitting a rock, her arms instinctively wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you close. The combination of her breath on your neck and her ear-piercing screams sent goosebumps down your arms. You convinced yourself it was the latter that caused the reaction.

The next stop was Croix-Rousse. Karina spent nearly two hours tasting everything the market had to offer. It amazed you how someone so slim could consume so much food. You loved the way her eyes lit up with excitement when she discovered a new dish, so you ended up buying even more just to see her happy.

"Look!" Karina called out joyfully, running toward you with two bracelets in her hand. "I got one for each of us."

The bracelets were made of two threads of dark blue string, each adorned with a small silver charm. The charms had the words Le destin décide qui entre dans votre vie, mais vous décidez qui y reste engraved on them.

"Do you know what it says?" you asked, a bit confused about her choice.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "The old lady said it was perfect for us and gave it to me for free."

"What old lady?" you inquired, puzzled, as you hadn't seen any elderly women as you walked through the market.

Karina seemed equally perplexed.

"That... one," she trailed off. "Weird, she was just there."

Shrugging again, she dismissed the thought. "Never mind. Can you put this on? I want to take a picture."

You nodded and helped her put hers on before tying yours around your wrist. Karina happily snapped a photo with her phone, making it her home screen.

"I'm glad I met you," she said, her lips gently brushing against your cheek before pulling you toward the next destination. "I'll never forget this trip."

As the day progressed, you couldn't help but realize that you felt the same way. This encounter with Karina had touched your heart in ways you couldn't explain, and you knew this day would be etched in your memory forever.

After climbing the hills to see the beautiful sunset, you took Karina to one of your favorite restaurants in Lyon. As you ordered fluently in French, Karina stared at you, captivated by your presence. She couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of freedom and joy when she was with you. The pressures of being an idol and the pain of her past relationship faded away, replaced by the warmth and happiness that radiated from your companionship. She knew deep down that you were never meant to be together, but she couldn't help falling for you.

"What are you planning to do when you graduate?" Karina asked, taking a sip of wine.

"Hmm... I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking of visiting my parents back in Korea before finding a job here," you replied.

"You should! I could be your Uber driver when you visit," she suggested playfully.

"Whoa, I didn't know Yoo Jimin could drive," you teased, earning a light slap on your arm.

Unbeknownst to you, calling her by her real name caused a pang in Karina's heart. She hadn't revealed her career as an idol to you yet, and she wasn't sure if she ever could.

Throughout the dinner, Karina couldn't take her eyes off you. She wanted to capture every moment, every detail of your presence in her memory. While she knew that life would go on after she left, she cherished the time she had with you and wanted to etch those memories deep within her heart. You had unknowingly become a source of hope and positivity in her life, changing her perspective on things and erasing her negative thoughts. Above all, she didn't want to forget the warmth and reassurance she felt when your eyes met, yearning to have you in her arms every morning.

The ambiance under the lamp posts as the evening progressed created an enchanting atmosphere.

Karina's eyes sparkled as she leaned in and whispered, "I really want to kiss you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and the intensity of Karina's gaze slowly chipped away at your self-control.

"What's stopping you?" you replied, unable to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you.

In that moment, Karina leaned over the table, her lips meeting yours. The connection was electrifying, and a surge of emotions overwhelmed both of you. It was as if fireworks erupted, and the scent of her perfume intoxicated your senses. Karina deepened the kiss, pouring all her adoration for you into that single moment, fearing it might be her last chance to express her feelings.

Briefly pulling back to catch your breath, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Karina whined and tried to pull you back for more.

"Whoa," she breathed, her voice filled with exhilaration.

"It's way better than yesterday," you said.

Confused, Karina looked at you and asked, "Yesterday?"

"Yeah," you replied with a laugh, "You actually drunkenly kissed me yesterday before throwing up. Can't believe I'm that bad at kissing."

Embarrassed, Karina hid her face in your neck, unaware of her actions from the previous night. "You're a really good kisser," she said dejectedly, feeling apologetic. “I’m so sorry.”

"I liked it," you reassured her, pressing a gentle kiss on her temple. "I'd gladly accept any kiss from you."

Karina pulled away from your embrace and looked at you with a serious expression. Her thoughts raced in her mind as she struggled to articulate them into coherent sentences

"I think I’m falling for you," Karina whispered, her voice filled with vulnerability.

You nodded, your eyes reflecting the same sentiment. "As I am for you."

"But..." Karina exhaled, struggling to find the right words.

"But we can't be together," you finished her sentence, understanding the unspoken obstacles that stood between you. A bittersweet understanding passed between the two of you.

Karina's gaze fell to the ground, her heart already aching at the thought of leaving you tomorrow.

"We can't be together," she repeated, trying to convince herself as well. "At least for now."

"It's okay," you reassured her, gently taking her hands in yours. "Even if we have to part ways here, I hope that I've made your little getaway to Lyon worthwhile."

Karina traced the bracelet on your wrist, feeling the engraved letters on the charm beneath her fingertips.

"You make me feel happy again."

"I'm glad," you whispered, your heart heavy with longing. "You deserve the world."

The drive home was filled with silence. Karina held your hand on her lap as you drove, lost in her thoughts. The idea of being separated from you, even for a short while, felt unbearable. After bidding each other goodnight, she wordlessly knocked on the door to your bedroom. Without hesitation, you let her in, holding her close in your arms until sleep eventually claimed her.

The next morning was tinged with melancholy and tearful kisses. Karina didn't want to leave, but she had a performance that night. On the platform, she pulled you into a tight embrace, closing her eyes and inhaling your scent. It was likely the last time she could hold you like this, but she hoped against hope that it wasn't.

"I know this is selfish of me, but will you meet me again?" she asked, cupping your cheek with her hands.

"What do you mean?" you inquired, your heart skipping a beat.

"I'll come back next year, to Lyon." Karina had made a promise to herself last night before drifting off to sleep. She would come back to you, no matter what.

"If you want me to."

"Of course I want you to," you replied, a flicker of hope lighting up your heart. The fact that she wanted to see you in the future lifted a weight off your shoulders.

"Promise me you'll wait for me at the cathedral where we first met," Karina requested, her gaze determined.

You nodded, your commitment unwavering. To be honest, you would gladly follow her anywhere.

"Under the clerestory windows?"

"Under the clerestory windows," she confirmed, her resolve unwavering.

With that, she pulled you in for one last kiss, savoring the taste and memorizing the shape of your mouth before boarding the train.

As Karina rummaged through her bag to find tissues to dry her tear-stricken face, her hand brushed against a rolled-up piece of paper. She unrolled it, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight. It was a drawing of her leaning on the rails, gazing at the sunset atop the Croix-Rousse hill. The beauty of the sunset was perfectly captured with oil paint, the orange streaks scattered across the paper. You had even added jewel-like flecks of gold and yellow on her face, capturing her childlike glow of joy and carefreeness. Was this how you saw her?

Her heart swelled with the feelings she had for you, her heartbeat quickening. She knew deep down that you would be waiting for her, no matter what.

Flipping the paper over, she saw your neat handwriting in the bottom left corner. It was addressed to her.

Jimin,

I hope that when life becomes overwhelming for you, you'll hold onto the memories of the sunset on your face, the echoes of the cathedral bells in Lyon's streets, and the moments we shared to bring you comfort.

You deserve boundless happiness, never doubt that. I'll immortalize you in my art, and perhaps one day you'll come across one of my works when you're feeling down. I'll paint your silhouette everywhere until you no longer feel pain or loneliness.

Le destin décide qui entre dans votre vie, mais vous décidez qui y reste.

Fate decides who enters your life, but you decide who stays.

I hope you choose to stay, Jimin.

P.S. Good luck at your concert. Spicy is my favorite song to work out to at the gym.

Karina dropped the paper in shock upon reading the last sentence. You knew who she was all along, and yet you didn't let it affect your feelings for her.

She grabbed her phone and quickly typed a message to you:

"I'll stay. Wait for me."

"See you during our rendezvous under the clerestory windows."

Jimin was finally happy.

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webby-mogai · 2 months

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cannibalistic attraction

[pt: cannibalistic attraction /end pt]

A type of attraction solely characterized by want for cannibalism. This can include wanting to cannibalize the one you're attracted to, be cannibalized by them, a desire for mutual cannibalism, etc.

There are theoretically infinite subtypes of cannibalistic attraction all of which include aspects of cannibalism as well as another attraction experience. They usually start with "cann-" or "canni-" unless another modifier is added such as queercannilial(link), but you can go crazy with it.

This is sorta an umbrella term for all of those as well as its own thing if you want

simplified/accessible

[pt: simplified/accessible /end pt]

Based on the gendercannibal(link) flag

Cannibalistic attraction masterpost(link)

Hoooly shit okay yeah. Long time coming. It literally just recently occurred to me this never existed. Cannibalistic attraction!!!

flag templates

[pt: flag templates /end pt]

symbol template

[pt: symbol template /end pt]

[cannibalistic attraction flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 2nd, 12th, and 13th line are triangular. the 4th and 10th line are wavy, and the rest are straight. line sizes in this order from top to bottom: 2 thick, 9 medium, 2 thick. the 4th line has been made to look like it is dripping from multiple spots. colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: dark red, maroon, crimson, a slightly desaturated red, red, dark pinkish red, and bright pink. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with red flesh. /end id]

[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon drawings of a heart, an eye, and lungs in that order. it repeats 5 or so times /end id]

[simplified cannibalistic attraction flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 13th line are medium thickness, the 2nd and 12th lines are thicker, 3rd and 11th are thinnest, and the 4th and 10th are thickest. colors in this order starting from the top and reflected after the last listed color: dark red, maroon, red, a more desaturated red, a lighter red, reddish pink, and light pink. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with desaturated red flesh /end id]

[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon images of a brain, a tooth, and intestines in that order. it's repeated 5 or so times /end id]

[cannibalistic attraction flag template id: a completely greyscale version of the cannibalistic attraction flag without the symbol /end id]

[simplified cannibalistic attraction flag template id: a completely greyscale version of the simplified cannibalistic attraction flag without the symbol /end id]

[cannibalistic attraction symbol id: a completely greyscale version of the cannibalistic attraction symbol /end id]

[banner id: a black banner with a white outline and white outlined text with a drawing to the left on a transparent background. the text reads "READ MY IWC" in big text and underneath it reads "anyone can use my terms but I will block you" in smaller text. to the left is a drawing of Higan drawn by John/TOOBOE squatting with her knees together. /end id]

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yoonavii · 7 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

Rich bachelor! Law x Reader

Description: On your courthouse wedding day, hope and determination fueled you, but your fiancé's absence and the revelation of a secret girlfriend shattered your dreams. In that moment of heartbreak, Trafalgar Law, an eligible and wealthy bachelor driven by the need for his family's inheritance, appeared. He offered a life-altering proposition: marry him in exchange for financial security. You immediately accepted without hesitation, unaware of the thrilling twists and turns awaiting you on the unexpected love journey.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

The city of Sabaody appeared almost surreal under the persistent downpour, the streets glistening with rainwater and neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement. You hastily exited a yellow taxi, its tires sending up a spray of water as it sped away. Clutching your umbrella, you dashed up the stone steps, the raindrops patterning a rhythmic tune on its canopy. Inside the courthouse, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bustling, rain-soaked streets. The corridors were lined with heavy wooden doors leading to various courtrooms, their dark oak contrasting with the white marble floors. The scent of rain-soaked coats hung in the air, and the soft murmur of conversations between lawyers and clients filled your ears.

Finally, you reached the designated courtroom, your heart pounding as you pushed open the imposing wooden door. The judge, an imposing figure in a black robe, peered over the rim of his glasses. He tapped his watch with a measured impatience, the seconds ticking away audibly in the otherwise silent room. With a flush of embarrassment, you offered a hurried apology, the words echoing in the hushed space. The judge leaned forward, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he remarked, “You’re ten minutes late.”

Your gaze swept over the room, noticing the familiar faces of friends and family who had gathered for this momentous occasion. Panic surged as you realized your fiancé was conspicuously absent. The judge’s stern tone deepened your anxiety as he asked, “Where is your fiancé?” Desperation took hold, and you retrieved your phone from your pocket, trembling fingers fumbling as you dialed your fiancé’s number. Each ring felt like an eternity, and your hope dwindled with every unanswered call. Finally, it diverted to voicemail, and you excused yourself from the courtroom, stepping into the hallway. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting an eerie glow on the gray walls. As you tried your fiancé’s number once more, your heart raced. Outside, the relentless rain painted a picture of uncertainty, mirroring the doubt and concern swirling through your thoughts.

As you continued to redial your fiancé's number, minutes stretched into half an hour, and the stress began to gnaw at you like a relentless itch. Frustration and worry etched lines across your forehead. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping for any sign of life from your missing partner. Unable to quell your anxiety, you allowed your gaze to wander, and it landed on an open courtroom adjacent to yours. A courtroom wedding was in progress, and the atmosphere inside was surprisingly festive. The bride and groom, dressed in exquisite attire, exchanged vows with radiant smiles.What struck you as odd was the extravagance of the guests' attire. They sported both recognizable luxury brands and some that seemed to be known only to a select few. It was a stark contrast to your own choice of a simple courthouse wedding.

Your attention was briefly diverted when a slim, tall man around your age exited the room. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. His golden eyes hinted at a hidden depth, and his chiseled face framed by slicked-back black hair added to his allure. He was dressed in a minimal yet elegant all-black ensemble, oozing a kind of charm that was hard to ignore.

For a moment, you found yourself admiring his appearance, but then a wave of guilt washed over you. You had no business checking out other men when you were supposed to be getting married today. Your gaze returned to your phone screen, desperately waiting for your fiancé to pick up, your heart heavy with worry and doubt. As you waited anxiously, a voice from inside the courtroom called out, “Law.” It was the groom, and you mentally noted the name of the handsome man as Law. You watched as Law turned to the groom, annoyance flickering in his golden eyes. He whispered something to the groom, who appeared chastened and immediately apologized, bowing in deference.

Your curiosity piqued, but before you could dwell on this interaction, your phone finally came to life. Relief washed over you as you asked your fiancé if he was okay, explaining your concern for his unresponsiveness earlier. However, instead of your fiancé’s voice, a woman answered the call, and your heart sank. As the woman’s words cut through the air like daggers, you found your voice despite the turmoil inside you. Anger and disbelief fueled your response, and your tone was sharp as you retorted, “What are you talking about? This can’t be true!” The woman on the other end of the line, her voice dripping with condescension, replied, “Oh, sweetheart, it’s as true as the sky is blue. Your so-called fiancé has been seeing me for months behind your back. He’s been spending money meant for your shared expenses on me.”

Your mind reeled, and you clenched your fists, desperately trying to process this shocking revelation. In a mix of anger and heartbreak, you shot back, “How could he do this? We were getting married today! Who are you, anyway?” She laughed again, that same cruel laughter that grated on your nerves. “I’m the one who’s been keeping him entertained, while you were here planning your wedding like a fool. I’m the one he’s chosen over you, darling.” Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of humiliation and betrayal. “You… You’re destroying my life!” you exclaimed, your voice quivering with emotion. She remained unapologetic, her voice cold and dismissive. “I’m just telling you the truth. He never loved you, sweetie. You’re better off without him.” You demanded, in a trembling voice, that he pick up the phone and confirm the terrible truth himself. After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked up the call. Your voice was seething with anger as you confronted him.

With the phone pressed to your ear, you could feel your anger rising like a tempest. "Is it true?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and fury. "Tell me you didn't do what she said." A heavy sigh on the other end was followed by a heartless admission, "yeah, it's true. I haven't loved you for a long time. I've been using you, living off your money while saving everything for my new girlfriend and our new life." Each word cut deeper, igniting a burning rage within you. "You heartless, selfish... Do you even understand how much I've struggled because of you?!" Your voice quivered with a blend of sorrow and anger. "I gave you chance after chance to change, to be a better person, and this is how you repay me? I regret every moment I ever spent loving you or feeling pity for you!"

The line went silent for a moment as your fiancé absorbed the force of your words. Finally, he responded, "Well, I don't need your pity or your love anymore—“

With those words, you reached a breaking point. The torrent of emotions, the years of suffering and betrayal, all culminated in a moment of sheer frustration. Without thinking, you slammed your phone onto the ground, the sound of it shattering echoing through the hallway. Your heartache was now accompanied by the pain of a destroyed device, symbolizing the wreckage of the life you had built together. As you sat there in the dimly lit courthouse hallway, shattered phone in hand, your focus consumed by the turmoil of your own life falling apart, you were unaware that Law had been observing your situation with keen interest.

Just as Law opened his mouth to perhaps offer some comment or consolation, his own phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and picked it up, his expression quickly shifting from curiosity to irritation. It was his father's financial advisor on the line, and they delved into a discussion about his father's will. Law's brows furrowed deeply as he listened, and he finally interrupted, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are you discussing this with me when my father is still alive? Is something wrong?" The financial advisor explained matter-of-factly, "Your father instructed me to discuss the beneficiaries with you in case anything were to happen to him. It's a precautionary measure, nothing more."

Law's irritation lingered, but he couldn't deny the weight of the conversation. As he concluded his call, his thoughts seemed to drift back to you, sitting there with your world shattered, much like his own feelings of betrayal and uncertainty about the future. As the conversation with his father's financial advisor continued, Law's irritation gave way to bewilderment. The advisor disclosed a surprising update to his father's will, something that caught Law completely off guard. His voice filled with curiosity and disbelief, Law questioned, "What is it? What did my father do?" The advisor hesitated for a moment before delivering the unexpected revelation. "Your father updated his will recently. In it, there's a condition for you to inherit his wealth and properties. You won't gain access to your inheritance unless you're married for more than a year."

Law was struck speechless by this revelation. His father's desire for a daughter-in-law and the prospect of a grandchild had always been a topic of discussion, but he never imagined his father would take it to this extreme. Law sat in stunned silence as the weight of his father’s unconventional condition settled upon him. He never thought his father’s desire for a daughter-in-law and grandchild would manifest in such a peculiar way. The advisor’s voice brought him back to the conversation, “Your father made this decision to ensure the continuation of the family legacy. It seems he was quite adamant about it.” Law could hardly believe it. It was as if his father was orchestrating his life from beyond the grave. A mixture of frustration and resignation washed over him. “Is there anything else in the will I should know about?”

The advisor assured him that he had covered the essential points, but Law couldn’t help but contemplate the unexpected turn of events. His father’s plan seemed to be unfolding like a complex chess game, and Law was left to grapple with the implications, all while sitting in the courthouse hallway where your own life had taken a dramatic, painful turn.

Law's gaze lingered on you for a moment, and when your eyes briefly met, a fleeting connection sparked between you. However, you quickly looked away, wiping away the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks as you listened to your own life unravel over the phone. In the midst of his own turmoil, Law's determination grew stronger. He couldn't let this opportunity to secure his inheritance slip through his fingers, regardless of the price it might entail. He leaned closer to the phone and instructed the advisor, "Tell my father that I've met someone and that we were planning to get married at the courthouse."

Unbeknownst to him, your ears perked up at his words, and your heart raced. Normally, you didn't jump to conclusions, but the timing and context of his statement left little room for doubt. A sense of disbelief and curiosity washed over you, as you wondered if his words could somehow be connected to the dramatic events unfolding in your own life. Law's confident gaze locked onto you as he interrupted your thoughts, revealing that he had been listening to your conversation with your now ex-fiancé.

The shock of the situation left you momentarily speechless. With a calm yet determined tone, Law explained his unexpected proposition. "You're not getting married to him," he stated matter-of-factly. "I need a wife, and I can assure you that you'll be well taken care of, both physically and, most importantly, financially. You won't struggle ever again." The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. It was as if you had stepped into the pages of a romance novel, and this modern prince was offering you a castle and a princess title. You pondered on it briefly, the weight of the decision heavy in the air. Then, with newfound determination, you met Law's gaze and agreed, "Alright, I'm in. Let's do this." It wasn't every day that life presented such a surreal opportunity, and you were willing to take the leap into this unexpected twist of fate.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

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theoneeyedprince · 9 months

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A Refined Taste

Part 7: Chemtrails Over the Country Club

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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The time spent at the Darklyn Country Club can be described as blissful, until it isn't.

Rating: Explicit/18+/Minors DNI (More warnings under the cut)

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: Smut (p in v—kind of but not really dom!reader and sub!Aemond, a tiny bit of oral f receiving), sensual themes, suggestive content, language, classism, angst, (slight) jealousy and a bit of fluff.

From the author: As an apology gift for not posting a chapter last week, I'm giving you this one now and Part 8 at the end of this week. I just had to spend some time on reading to motivate myself to keep on writing. By the way, take some time off if you're starting to feel burned out. No matter what your hobby is! It's better than being frustrated with yourself and end up hating the thing you love doing.

As always, thank you for reading this series and I hope you like this part (because I struggled a bit while writing it) <3

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Everything is white.

The main building, the restaurant’s tables, chairs and umbrellas at the porch, the clouds and chemtrails in the sky, the clothes of guests and staff’s forced smiles.

It’s a beautiful place, no doubt, but the smell of mixed expensive perfumes is overwhelming and the over the top politeness of employees—you don’t put a blame on them, you know this has to be written in their contracts—don’t make a good impression on you and you wonder how the family endures their annual two week long stays here.

You and Argella assumed that they’re simply used to it.

As it turns out, the Targaryen-Hightower family rents one of the few clubhouses the Darklyns offer their members and theirs has a view at the sea.

This is where you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of days. Alone.

The house is relatively small—in the eyes of rich people that is—so you didn’t mind that. It’s enough you’ve been having sex with Alicent’s son under her roof, so why push your luck and get caught in a room opposite to hers?

In all honesty, you’ve spent great time with him so far. Most of it in the company of your friends and family but it still counts.

Not everything has to be about sex.

Although, when it comes to Aemond, it’s easier said than done.

So, because no one knows about you two, you’re playing nice and feeding your mutual hunger with brief, stolen moments.

The thing is that since your arrival at the country club you found yourself pondering upon the way you feel about it all because it’s as if you rewinded and went back to square one with the way you circle around each other again.

This is what you’re doing right now as you’re sitting on cushions by the living room’s windows, looking out at the dock stretching down the coastline.

The days leading up to your trip to Duskendale looked similarly to those before the auction with the only exception of Aemond sneaking into your room every night and fucking you into the satin covers—your naked and burned up bodies reflected in the tall mirror standing in the corner of the room.

You were yet to see his room but you didn’t want to impose yourself on him, believing that when he feels the need to welcome you in his personal space then he would.

But you like that he comes knocking on your door because it always takes you back to the night that started these late night trysts and how it crushed down your sudden fear of the time in the library being a one night stand.

The rest of the evening goes by like a blur but Aemond is so clear to you. Everything he did that night was intensified ten times over.

Thinking how in the Seven Hells were you able to hold back for so long, now that you gave in to the temptation—finally holding the thing you were fearful of.

And perhaps you should have because now you can’t imagine living without the feeling that envelops your whole body, mind… and heart.

The last growing bigger with each passing day as if it wanted to make more room for Aemond to fit in.

Perhaps you’re making a mistake, letting yourself feel this way when you’re here only for the summer, just like he said, but denying the root that has taken in that beating part of your chest is harder than outwardly admitting that it’s real.

As terrifying as it is.

One step at a time, you told yourself, knowing full well that time’s slipping through your fingers too quickly and you don’t really have the luxury to safely think it through.

But these were the thoughts that came to you later as the night of the auction had you in a state of that hazy euphoria.

Aemond’s not a person that leans towards public displays of affection, you noticed that before and you don’t mind that. To be honest, you quite like that even after having sex you still play that little game of yours.

It’s funny, you think, that the game he decided to give you lessons at was tennis because this one parallels it too much—an invisible ball being passed to each other, the players are drunk on adrenaline, seemingly rivals trying their best to have the advantage but on the same team underneath the play-pretend competition.

He looks up at you from his glass of whiskey, while you talk to Helaena and Argella, sending you a shadow of a knowing smile, making you blush in consequence.

The ball isn’t only on his side of the court, however, as your eyes roam over his tall, dark figure when you know you can allow yourself to steal a look at him. Biting into your lower lip at the memory of his body pressing into yours, and totally making sure that he sees you doing it.

Your fingers brush whenever you ‘accidentally’ pass each other in the crowd, feeling as if you were about to burst into flames from the way all of this makes you feel.

The drilling sensation of his following gaze on the back of your head, side of your face or your bare back don’t leave you until the whole event is over.

As it soon turns out your night, however, is far from over.

The knock doesn’t wake you, you couldn’t fall asleep anyway, but it’s a little after two in the morning and the mansion is quiet as a mouse—everyone is probably exhausted after the long day.

You open the door carefully not to make any unnecessary noise and the thought war that’s been clamouring in your head since the moment you and Aemond said your goodnights at the main stairs of the house ends the moment you see him standing at the threshold.

Because he came. He promised not to ignore you and he kept his word.

He’s barefoot, wearing a black tank top and dark-grey sweatpants. His shining hair is all ruffled and his eyes resemble that of a pleading puppy. He looks so positively innocent.

You can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Did I wake you up?” He asks quietly and you shake your head, inviting him in.

When your back rests against the closed door he takes your face in his hands and kisses you with the same passion he showed you a couple of hours ago.

There is something about the way he kisses and touches you that gets you all but sighing. As if he was a sip of water you finally got to let into your thirsted-out system.

“Hi,” he caresses your lower lip with his thumb and you smile against it.

“Hi,” you answer through a shaky laugh and then led him to your bed.

The invitation seems to bring Aemond some kind of relief because he lets out a long breath once you settle against the cushions.

His warm, big hand travels to your knee, his thumb drawing lazy circles at its inner side, while the blood in your veins speeds up in its course and pounds lightly in your pussy.

The tips of your fingers faintly travel across the knuckles of his hand that grabs your knee, while his thumb leaves burning circles on your skin.

You sigh—it clearly became a norm in your close encounters with Aemond—when he runs fingers of his other hand through your half-wet hair and places some strands on your collarbone so that they fall down the swell of your breast.

Goosebumps rise on the skin there as the faint cold of the ends and tips of his fingers meet.

Aemond looks at your hardening nipples, straining against the black material of your pyjama shirt and you take a deep breath through your nose when he tightly squeezes your knee as if restraining himself from doing something rash.

You wet your lips, deciding to break the sizzling silence, although wanting to do anything else than talk.

“There’s something on my mind…” He hums to let you know he’s listening. “You apologised for being a ‘stuck-up dick’ when we met for the first time in November. But you also told me that Vhagar went through surgery at that time…”

“Yes…”

His grip on your knee eases up but the low hoarse timbre of his voice doesn't help the slowly gathering wetness between your thighs.

“Then I don’t need to forgive you for that… it had to be a difficult time for you,” you say after a moment, your chest rising and falling with the knowledge of the startling effect such a simple curl of his fingers has on you.

Aemond decides to let his action speak for him and presses his lips to the palm of your hand, letting you know he appreciates your words.

He’s so gentle that it almost brings you to tears. Where is the iceberg of a man you saw sitting by the hotel bar and months later by the library desk?

“You know… it wasn’t the first time we met,” the fingers that played with your hair put some strands behind your ear. Now you can feel his breath on the skin there and you wished he kissed you under it like he did in the garden, the day before he went down on you for the first time.

“Really? I would’ve remembered that. You leave a lasting impression,” you try to tease but your voice comes out too quiet.

The right corner of his mouth follows up the eyebrow above his healthy eye.

“I don’t mean officially but that we’ve seen each other before Hel’s birthday.”

You close your eyes in an attempt to recall the times you accompanied Argella to Targaryen-Hightower gatherings.

And sure, you caught a glimpse of Aemond here and there but Aegon was always the one that made himself be known to you, taking up the whole space with his radiating personality. Aemond has always hid in the corners, stood somewhere in the background or preferred his solitude.

You curse your past self for getting blinded by the sun when the pale moonlight shone right next to it.

“Yeah, there had to be moments when I was at the same place as your family but I don’t think we ever spoke… until last year.”

The tone of his hum catches your attention. It sounded as if he knew something you didn’t. You open your eyes the moment he starts speaking.

“Not many but there were. I mean, our unspoken interactions. I remember some of them quite vividly.”

You raise your head slightly up at the same time as your eyes widen at his revelation.

“Oh, do you?” You can hear your voice crack and then he takes your chin between his fingers, stroking the outline of your bottom lip softly.

“I believe we were ships passing in the night,” your heart beats affectionately at the almost romantic confession.

But has it ever not reacted to him in this way? You aren’t sure if you can tell the difference anymore.

“Aemond Targaryen, you really have a way with words,” your soft laugh is answered with one of his own and you fight the urge to place a kiss on his cheek.

“You might’ve known that sooner but your eyes were focused on someone else.”

His violet eye was intense as ever and you had to rub your thighs against each other to somewhat get rid of the tension enveloping your throbbing centre.

“I guess they were…”

Taking your chance to grant him that kiss, you breathe out and slowly close the distance between your lips when suddenly he moves away from the bed frame to crawl down the sheets and settle between your fidgeting thighs.

The realisation of what he is about to do sends shivers down your body.

“And look at you now,” he murmurs seductively and you fist on the duvet, your cheeks burning pleasantly with anticipation.

“Not so into my brother anymore,” he sends you a smug, exultant smirk before lowering his face to kiss under your belly button.

“No, not anymore,” you whisper, feeling your blood racing through your veins, making it hard for you to stay still when his fingers hook under the material of your pyjama shorts and drag them down your legs.

The climax he drew out of you was one of the many that came throughout the rest of the night. That night and during those that came after he wasn’t as slow and careful as he was in the library, although continued in his muted panting—and you followed him along, not wanting your voice to travel across the almost empty mansion. He went deep and fast as if he couldn’t have been satisfied with the gentleness he showed you back then. Every time he was close to finishing his large hands firmly grabbed your ass to lift your upper body up in order to pull you even closer to him and after hiding his face in the crook of your neck he always pressed delicate kisses on your neck, repeating that he’s sorry if he was too harsh.

During those hushed-up, breathless moments you wondered if there was a hidden side within Aemond that comes out to the surface only at certain moments. A dominant, demanding part of him that awakens only in the privacy of that guest room or any space that can provide it to him. But then you pinch yourself to remind your yearning heart not to put any effort into trying to understand him because the two of you have an ending already written for you. It was set in stone from the moment you entered the Targaryen mansion—the day you leave this place, he will become just a distant memory.

Tears start welling up in your eyes as the memories of that night and the nights after flood your mind and you blink rapidly not to let them fall.

You still have some time left, you still have some time.

“What are you thinking about?” You hear Aemond whisper in your ear, pulling you away from the sudden wave of melancholy.

Still resting your head on the wall you turn away from the window, hoping your eyes don’t give you away.

“Oh, well… nothing interesting.”

His violet eye searches your face and you wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was able to read your mind.

Aemond must’ve noticed something in the way you’re looking at him because he squeezes your thigh lightly, perhaps in an attempt to bring a smile to your face, but then he quickly retreats as soon as the main door opens.

There’s no reason to make a big deal out of it but the less realistic and more romantic part of your brain starts to slowly bear resentment for the secrecy.

No matter how much this little game of yours has thrilled you, now you suppose it changed the moment Aemond’s nightly visits became your new routine.

“Baela and Rhaena are coming tomorrow!” Helaena runs to the kitchen and it’s some kind of a miracle that she didn’t find it suspicious how close you and Aemond are to each other. But by the look of Argella’s scanning gaze, your sister might’ve, so you’re already preparing to give her an explanation.

“With uncle Daemon?” Aemond raises his voice so Helaena could hear him.

“Yeah,” she comes back to the main door and finally looks at you—her pale, dreamy eyes smiling at her brother. “He said he wants to race you on The Rogue Prince.”

You furrow your brows and look up at his bored and unimpressed face.

Another member of his family he hates? You wonder.

“He really should start spending time with people his age,” he leans against the perpendicular wall to the one your head is pressing against.

Helaena giggles lightly and your heart warms at the way Argella’s eyes seem to shine with the love she has for Helaena’s enthusiastic ramblings.

A moment later they leave you alone again.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

He murmurs next to your ear and it takes everything in you not to lean in to kiss him.

He doesn’t know you’re slowly falling for him. He’s doing nothing wrong, you remind yourself and take his hand to hold him, even if just like this, even if just for a moment.

“Yeah. C’mon, show me that special boat of yours.”

When you stand up from the cushions Aemond hookshis fingers in the back pocket of your dark cigarette trousers, reluctantly letting go when you leave the safe four walls of the clubhouse.

The Prince Regent—painted in dark green cursive on the front hull—is nothing what you imagined. Not only the Targaryen boats are tied at the secluded end of the dock, away from prying eyes, but it’s quite modest in comparison to the yachts you’ve seen so far.

But you should’ve guessed by now that although a man with taste, Aemond Targaryen is not the extravagant type.

You turn around and send him a silent question, amusement covering your face.

“An inner joke between siblings,” he shrugs. “Aegon’s got The Rightful King, Helaena, The Queen of Hearts and Daeron has The Daring Knight.

You bite the inner side of your cheek, trying not to laugh but your attempt fails miserably when you see the partially serious expression on his face and soft laugh escapes your throat.

“You know what? As much as they’re over the top, I like the idea. Very mediaeval like.”

“We could’ve been royalty if we lived in those times. Check out my family tree,” he winks at you and your jaw drops slightly.

“You really are like old, old money, aren’t you?”

He sends you that secretive smile you recognise from your first time in the library and you let yourself be consumed with the desire you feel for him.

The end of the summer will come, so all you can do is let the sadness dissolve in the summer air and let him provide you with memories you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.

Aemond wraps his arms around your waist and settles his chin on your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin.

His lips against your skin, his nose buried between your ear and your jaw, the sound of him inhaling the smell of your perfume, body lotion and that natural salt air scent that settled on your skin, the warmth of his body on your back...

It feels like you’re imagining it.

“Shouldn’t we come aboard?” You ask but don’t make an attempt to move away from him.

“Hmm, I think I prefer to stay like that,” he murmurs in your neck as his arms tighten around your waist.

You close your eyes and laugh softly at that.

It feels like a dream.

“Your back would hurt you having to bend over me like that.”

His back straightens in an instant, depriving your neck of his warm breath but then he turns you around and moves your chin up with his fingers.

The light of the setting sun reflects in his eyes and softens his sharp features as he looks at you from the bridge of his nose. That lazy, self-satisfied smile adorns his pretty mouth.

“What if I like bending over you?” He curls up a brow and adds lowly, “Or behind you.”

A breath catches in your mouth and a roguish twink appears in his violet eye.

You haven’t tried that position yet and with the sporadic quickies you’ve somehow managed during your stay here, you know he said that on purpose.

But as much as you’d like him behind you in this way, he can’t think that he’s the only one with control all the time, so you pull away with a fake-sad pout on your mouth.

“I’d feel bad if you hurt your back because of me.”

And you’re already one swing of a leg away from finding yourself on the deck of his boat. You turn around to see if he follows you and his expression almost makes you laugh. It’s all half-annoyance and half-confusion but it disappears when he sees your teasing smirk, making way for a darker one, more akin to predatory.

The moment both of you descend on the deck he lays a slap to your ass and pulls you into a deep kiss.

“Someone will see,” you pant out but the familiar tension in your lower abdomen only grows with your words.

“I can show you what’s below the deck, then. So we can be all alone,” you nod against his lips and he takes you down the wooden stairs leading to the cabin.

The moment Aemond locks the door, you’re both greedy for each other, tugging at your clothes and your hair, almost falling down because of your feverish want.

You giggle against his lips when he grabs your hips harder, trying to hold onto your smaller frame when he stumbles forward.

Lucky for you your legs hit the front of a small couch and you pull Aemond with you to lay on top of you.

“Hmm, at least this time we’re not choking on water,” he says between kisses and you giggle again.

“You’re still making me lose my breath,” you tease and at that he puts his hands on the both sides of your head—one at the backrest and the other on the arm where your head is laying—and looks at you with a searching gaze.

Aemond lets out a deep breath before he murmurs “c’mere” and swiftly picks you up so that you can straddle him.

Your fingers interwoven with his soft hair at the back of his head. A habit you created for yourself, insatiable to feel its softness whenever you’ve got the chance, and which must be to Aemond’s liking because he basically purrs like a contented cat at your gentle caress.

You stay like that for some time, stroking chosen parts of your bodies as the boat rocks lazily.

“Didn’t you say something about dinner on a boat?”

“I did,” he nods at a picnic basket set on a table. “But I think we should start with dessert.”

“You think so?”

You curl a strand of his hair around your finger.

“I know so, love.”

And he makes his point by pulling you even closer to him so you can feel the growing bulge in his shorts with each drag of your hips on his cock.

You wanted to be strong tonight and make him wait but a soft moan escapes your pursed lips anyway.

“I knew you’d agree,” he hums after and kisses under your chin, then on the side of your neck and its centre.

You tug on his hair in response, your hips rising when his fingers start unbuckling the thin belt around your trousers.

“Why did you have to make it so difficult, love? Hm?”

You look down at him and an intense excitement fills you up when he’s the one that has to tilt his head to look into your eyes. This angle is such a rare sight for you.

“I wanted to look like these sailing women in the Ralph Lauren magazine,” Aemond hums gaily at that, amusement twinkling in his healthy eye. “Besides, wouldn’t it be boring to be handed things so easily all the time?”

“So, that’s why it took us so long to get to this point, huh… ‘Cause all good things come to those who wait? This is our thing, then?”

Our thing.

Our.

Such a simple word and yet it makes your stomach flutter.

“I think so,” you pull him closer by his neck but not to let you take the wheel in any shape or form he moves your trousers down your thighs and you inhale sharply when his lips land on the lace material of your panties.

Seven Hells can have my patience now, you think.

“Is it time for that dessert now, baby?” You try out a pet name for him.

His eye widens at the term of endearment and you know it was all Aemond needed to hear to strip you down to your knees and start sucking on your needy clit.

He cups your pussy and chuckles against it, sending shivers all over your body.

“Grinding on my cock made you so wet? Is that right, love?”

“Mhm…”

A slap to your centre jolts you in place and you open your eyes, your mouth hanging open.

“You know how much I like when you answer me. All breathy and needy. Don’t you ever stop doing that.”

There’s a kind of rasp in his voice right now that you haven’t heard before.

“You don’t like that I’m the one on top?”

His eyes are narrowed and when you try to move he firmly holds you under your buttcheeks, digging his nails into your skin there. That tells you everything you need to know and a thought comes to your head.

“Can I ride you, baby?”

“Fuck—” He breathes out and whether he does that consciously or not, he nods a little bit too eagerly from what you’d expect from him. “If you’re asking so nicely.”

You smile sweetly at him and take his hands off of you.

“Then take it all off.”

It doesn’t take long for your clothes to lay discarded on the floor and you reposition yourself on his thighs, holding onto his shoulders for balance.

You look down, admiring the way his swollen tip appears and disappears in his fist, leaving stains of precum on his palm and fingers and you absentmindedly lick your lips.

“Like what you see?”

His blown up pupil sends a heat wave through your body and you buckle your hips towards his hand.

“I don’t know, you’ll have to show me if I should,” you tilt your head to the side and tap your fingers on the skin of his shoulders.

For the second time since you’ve been on the boat he slaps your butt but then grabs it a second later to align you with his erect cock.

He takes the condom that’s laying next to his hip and you kiss him impatiently as he puts it on.

As you descend onto him your right hand wraps around his neck and you hold it there without applying any pressure, just to see how it’d feel like.

Aemond grunts in response, pulling your hips down more harshly and you moan loudly as your pussy takes all of him all the while you look at his devouring expression—sure you’re own mirrors it.

A moany gasp leaves your lips when one of his hands grasps at yours that is settled at the top of his neck and applies more pressure.

He lets out a constrained groan when your hips finally touch his toned tights. Both of you can feel his tip brushing against your spot, so you raise yourself up and slam against him.

His free hand squeezes your tits harshly, pinching your nipples from time to time.

It only spurns you on to repeat your previous motion and before you know it you bounce on his thick length relentlessly as he thrust into you with the same ravenous need.

Your head tilts back and with this Aemond takes your hands away from his throat to suck and nibble at yours, no doubt leaving many hickeys in the wake of it.

Your fingers draw red lines along his shoulders and arms, digging into his flesh each time he hits your spot.

Moans and groans intermingle with each other with every well-angeled thrust or fall of your hips and whenever he bites on your collarbone, the flesh atop your bouncing breasts or your jaw, you answer with bites of your own—to the shell of his ear, the side of his neck or his freckled shoulder.

For the first time since you started hooking up you’re not forced to keep quiet, so when your movements become more heated and Aemond’s fingers start circling your clit you let your screams of pleasure flow out of you freely.

“That’s it, love, let me hear you,” he pants, talking to you through your orgasm, while his own is fast approaching. And soon enough his cock twitches inside you—the feeling making you moan out his name—and he kisses you harshly as he cums, consequently muffling his own sounds of pleasure but the vibrations from his groans slip into your mouth and you bite into his lower lip.

Aemond pulls away and sends you a mischievous smile as he leans against the back of the couch.

Your fluttering eyes take in every inch of the sight before you—his bitten lip, stretched out lean arms, toned torso and the patch of chest hair on which his silver chain rests.

He’s not shying away from admiring you either. He looks you up and down—from where you’re still joined to your heaving breasts and your flushed, equally contented face and you feel him growing hard inside you. Getting ready to fill you up once more.

“Hmm,” you act all curious and grind against him, watching with satisfaction how the muscles in his jaw tighten.

“What do you say that I change the condom and we take another bite before we sail away?”

You nod rapidly and before you know it you’re descending on his deliciously greedy lenght again.

When you come back to the dock and leave The Prince Regent behind, all your worries from the previous days seem insignificant.

The incredible boat sex aside, you’ve just been on the most amazing date—sunset watching from the deck, while discussing Jane Austen and F. Scott Fitzgerald, eating fruit and drinking wine to renew the energy you’ve so productively used up.

Then you spot familiar faces and smile at the sound of Aegon’s loud laugh, which widens even more when you notice Aemond smiling too. It’s a delicate smile but so Aemond-like that it’s enough to make you giddy with happiness.

But the mood changes too soon when you come in closer and you’re met with someone you haven’t seen in years.

The Baratheon girls stand next to a black boat you’ve passed by earlier in the day and there’s no doubt now that it belongs to your uncle’s family.

One of your cousins wears a high ponytail that swings from side to side when she runs up to you.

Your name tinkles in your ear when she greets you enthusiastically, while she buries her head into your wind-blown hair.

“Floris?”

You exchange a look with Argella and she nods, widening her eyes at you as if to say “oh my god, can you believe it?”.

“We’ve just arrived and surprise, surprise Gella is here! And you too! And among this lot!”

You return her wide smile, trying your best for it not to look too fake.

Floris has always been nice to you but you’re sceptical about the way she’s so happy to see you. You haven’t been in touch for so long after all.

As her sisters walk out of the boat and you say “hellos” to both Ellyn and Maris, the tallest of the girls is the last one to join.

“Shit,” the word rolls out of Aegon’s tongue before he can stop it and looks quickly at Aemond.

You do the same as soon as his fingers dig into your waist.

As the eldest child of your uncle, Cassandra has always been an intimidating figure, even in her teenage years. But now, as she makes her way towards you with a cigarette in her hand and a wide black hat covering half of her face that makes her look mysterious, you suddenly feel awfully plain in comparison.

It gets worse when Aemond’s hold on your hip loosens and then disappears altogether. Your body tenses and when you look up to him to see what’s wrong his face resembles a stone carving—hard and devoid of emotions.

When he doesn’t look at you all you want to do is disappear into thin air. So, you move a bit to the side, closer to Aegon.

His brows furrow but he asks nothing, only letting his eyes jump from you to Aemond to Cassandra and you again.

You try not to let it show that you noticed the sudden realisation appearing on his face.

“Our dear cousins are here! And we thought Royce must’ve been mistaken!”

The heavy scent of her perfume hits your senses and you suppress a cough tingling at the back of your throat.

“Aemond,” she states as she takes a long drag. He answers her with a short “Cass” and her eyes narrow slightly. But underneath that cold exterior hid something else.

Your cousin might’ve wanted everyone to see how unfettered she is by her ex’s presence but you could see the way her gaze scanned his body quickly before she turned her head back to all of you.

Aegon tapped your palm lightly and you realise then that you’re fisting the hem of the pocket of your black trousers, also biting into the soft flesh of your inner cheek. Both are an attempt to stop the overwhelming urge to cry.

You curse at yourself in your head for being so emotional over this.

But you can’t deny that Aemond’s sudden change in behaviour once Cassandra appeared was like a stinging slap to your already attached heart.

“So…” your cousin says after she hugs Argella and Hel, “you finally found your way into the upper echelons of the society, Gella.”

Your sister’s face is painted in a deep shade of red and you feel anger boiling in your veins.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Cassandra turns around and finally pays attention to you.

You’re not sure where the dislike of your family comes from, except for the usual posh attitude the filthy rich display.

Aegon squeezes your fist but whether it is to calm you down or encourage you to say more, you don’t know. Although having gotten to know him, you’d bet on the latter.

“Oh, you know,” she waves her hand, “should I even say it?”

The smirk on Cassandra’s red lips betrays the overly-sweet tone in her question for what it is—a taunt.

In that moment your mouth acts faster than your thoughts.

“If you think you can insult my-”

“Okay, Cass, that’s enou-”

Your neck hurts from how quickly your head snaps into the direction of Aemond’s voice but he’s interrupted by Cassandra’s dramatic tone and forces you to look at her again.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” she rolls her big blue eyes. “After all, younger sisters always try to copy their eldest.”

You’re confused only for a moment until you see her eyes drilling into Aegon’s fingers that are still settled on the palm of your hand.

“Don’t tell me, Aegon, that you’ve decided to settle?”

She looks at him and puts a hand on her heart as if she pitied him.

The silence that falls is interrupted by awkward laughs from Floris and Maris but the lack of response from Aemond is the loudest sound you’ve ever heard. It rings in your ears even louder when you’ve just witnessed him trying to stand up for both of your sisters and stings you like sharp needles when he doesn’t spare you a glance.

“Fuck, Cass, your tongue’s sharper than ever,” Aegon’s tone’s playful but you can feel his thumb twitching nervously against your skin.

The fact he hasn’t moved away from you cuts into your let down heart.

Why couldn’t Aemond do that?

“I’ve learned from the best,” she sets her hard gaze on Aemond and finishes her cigarette by stomping on it with her heel.

As you follow her every move, your eyes can’t help but scan over Aemond whose lips are now pursed into a thin line and if looks could kill, your cousin would lay dead under your feet.

Then he walks behind you and Aegon drops your hand at the exact moment Aemond squeezes his bicep but he doesn’t touch you, even though you can feel his forearm almost brushing your back when it drops.

He says something in Helaena’s ear and she nods, taking Argella’s hand. Your sister shoots your cousin a hateful look, extends her empty arm to you and you gladly take it, not wanting to spend any more time here.

“It would be better if you didn’t occupy the same space as us, alright? We don’t appreciate insults thrown at Hel or whoever’s important to her.”

You hear Aegon’s usual nonchalant tone of voice harden and, without waiting for an answer, he joins you just as you start to leave.

Aemond isn't among your company and you can hear his barely restrained voice getting quieter and quieter with the widening distance. You can’t be sure why he stayed behind to talk to Cassandra but it still doesn't stop the avalanche of doubt falling on you, neither the searing jealousy spreading through your chest or the scalding anger at the silence he granted you but apparently couldn't grant her.

He catches up to you when Helaena opens the door to the clubhouse and you pretend not to hear him murmuring your name in your ear.

When his fingers hook at the crook of your elbow to pull you to him you repudiate him just how he did you.

The Tag List

@aegonx ◇ @aemonds-fire ◇ @anehkael ◇ @arcielee ◇ @bellstwd ◇ @bel-bottoms ◇ @carriellie ◇ @chainsawsangel ◇ @fan-goddess ◇ @godrakin ◇ @helaenaluvr ◇ @herfantasyworldd ◇ @itsabby15 ◇ @jeezlouiisee ◇ @letmeloveyouuuu ◇ @malfoytargaryen ◇ @mooncalvin ◇ @moonlightazriel ◇ @melsunshine ◇ @padfooteyes ◇ @randomdragonfires ◇ @skikikikiikhhjuuh ◇ @snh96 ◇ @strangersunghoon ◇ @sunna-fangirls ◇ @the-common-cowgirl ◇ @violetletovi ◇ @wintrr13 ◇ @winifrog

Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be included in this specific series tag or a general Aemond tag ♡

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