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writingouthere · 8 months

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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!

cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression

Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.

"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.

"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.

"What's going on, you seem off today?"

You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.

"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.

Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.

"Why was the apartment so awful?"

You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"

"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."

"Creep, how?"

You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.

"It doesn't matter-

"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"

"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.

It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.

"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.

"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"

"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."

Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.

"What about Bug?"

"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."

This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.

"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"

"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"

You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.

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

The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.

"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.

"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."

Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.

"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.

"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"

The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.

"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.

When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.

"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."

"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.

"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."

He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.

"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.

He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.

A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.

He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.

"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"

"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."

"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."

"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"

Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.

"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."

Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.

"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.

"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."

"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.

"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."

"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.

"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.

It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.

"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.

While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.

When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.

Like he would ever let you leave this.

also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x singlemomreader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you

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chloe-petrichors · 13 days

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seething, blooming // jace x reader

your father has always been something of an opportunist, but trying to marry you off to the blacks while he courts the greens? this is taking playing the game to a whole new level.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war. —victor hugo.

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!tyrell!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon au (set after aegon takes the crown but before luke's death bc luke will never die in my eyes), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s), arranged marriage, mention parental death/death in childbed (reader's mother), love at first sight vibes, jace is a flirtatious little shit with his betrothed, tooth rotting fluff, love confessions. word count; 6k+ notes; one day i might write for another man. but that day is not today. jace velaryon u have my heart. i'm not majorly pleased w this fic but it's given me enough trouble and it's as good as it's gonna get! this was longer originally, and was meant to be a bit more political at first hence the blurb/quote choice, but i haaated some of the scenes so ended up scrapping 'em. she's not as long as predicted as a result but still an ok length i think. some of the scenes i scrapped were tragically the smut ones, so have this fairly pg one-shot with the promise of the smut-shot sitting in my drafts coming ur way soon. fair warning that the scrapping of scenes has fudged with the pacing a bit but honestly i can't take this fic sitting in my drafts any longer so here u go!! i have a taglist now, mostly cos eldrith keeps telling me i have to tag her in everything, so lmk if you'd like to be added to it! requests; are open !

the rising sun paints highgarden in shades of pink and gold.

you stand upon your balcony, finger curled loosely over the pale marble as you stare distantly out over the rolling green fields and blooming gardens. the faint bubbling of the river mander in the distance adds to the peaceful morning, the early wash of sunlight coaxing the sleeping world into life. a cool breeze carries the sweet smell of roses and you take a steadying breath, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your face up to the sun.

it's a morning that starts like many others. you’ve always risen from bed early, the slow blooming of morning stirring you from slumber more often than not. birds chirp and bees buzz and the river flows and you rise with it, like part of you calls to the breaking dawn.

if not for the thick sheaf of parchment discarded on your father’s desk, it could be a morning like any other. but the parchment is there, and this day will be like no other before it.

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

a targaryen has not stepped foot in the reach since before you were born. you don’t think even the princess rhaenyra – queen, now, according to some – had come this far on her marriage tour years ago. but your father has taken it upon himself to invite a prince to your home.

you love your father deeply, but in this you think he must be a fool. as lord paramount of the reach he is, in theory, the power of this kingdom. but anyone with a lick of sense knows that it’s the hightowers that the people look to; oldtown is home to the starry sept, the citadel and, perhaps more importantly, the dowager queen’s family line.

the tyrells have only been in power for a few generations, and people’s memories are long. too many know the truth of how house tyrell had been only a steward when the gardener kings had ruled before the conquest. and so too many see tyrell as a house grasping for power that should be beyond their fingers, and your father is apparently determined to prove them all right.

he’s been careful about his neutrality as war threatens to break out between the targaryen kin, brother and sister both claiming their right to the throne and the realm splitting down the middle. your father has not officially allied with either side, walking a careful tightrope to appease both. up until now you had assumed he sided more with the greens, but he’d sent your assumptions crumbling with only a few sheets of parchment.

your father has always been too ambitious for his own good.

gods, how you miss your mother. when she’d been alive, she’d tempered the worst of your father’s foolishness. she’d been a stark before she’d married, steadfast and sensible in the face of your father’s folly. she’d been a woman unlike any other you’ve known; ferocious and a little wild, but with a good heart and a warm smile for any she’d met.

she’d taught you how to be a lady, but so much more than that – she’d taught you to know your own mind. to know when to mind your tongue and when to speak, how to grow your roots so deep you will always stand tall, flourishing and growing like the most determined of flowers. she’d taught you a little of that northern ice, too, reminding you oft that for as much as you were a rose of highgarden you were equally a wolf of the north, and the wolf’s blood has always run thick in your veins.

she’d called you her little winter rose; delicate and steely and a rare bloom, indeed. she had loved you so fiercely you’d flourished with her tender care, just as the patch of winter roses she’d brought from the glass gardens of winterfell had bloomed ‘neath her careful ministrations. a piece of the north she’d brought south with her, a tiny bit of her home that she’d cradled and cared for until the day you’d lost her to the birthing bed.

your little brother is nearing six, now, and many moons have passed since the sudden grief of your mother had overwhelmed you. but, in recent days you have ached with her loss more often, wondering what she would think of your father’s plans, what she would say to soothe your storm of anxiety. with your looming marriage you find yourself missing your mother acutely, the grief a reopened wound in your chest.

because you are a betrothed woman, now, to be married to a stranger, a prince who is sure to be fighting a war against his kin in the moons to come.

the velaryon prince arrives on dragon back as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.

he dismounts his winged steed in an empty stretch of land a distance from the keep itself, and your father greets him there with a host of staff to accompany him back to the entrance courtyard.

your brother leo bounces in place beside you where you stand with the rest of the household in the courtyard, fairly vibrating with energy at the prospect of seeing a real-life dragon. since the news of the prince’s arrival was announced a sennight ago, leo has done little else but babble about dragons and magic and targaryens. you wish you could share his excitement, his sheer uncomplicated joy, but this visit comes with too many conflicting emotions for you to enjoy it at all.

you’ve always known you would not marry for love. you are the eldest child and only daughter of the lord of the reach – love has never been a factor you could afford to consider. you would do your duty and marry for your house, to seal whatever alliance your father deemed important enough. you’d resigned yourself to this fate as a young girl when your mother had told you in slow, halting words the fear she had felt coming south to marry your father.

but you’d not expected to marry a total stranger. you’d thought your father would at least do you the courtesy of allowing you to meet a suitor before betrothing you to them, but in his feverish ambition to sit his blood on the iron throne he’d promised you to a man you’ve never laid eyes upon.

you don’t want to be queen.

frankly, you think yourself a touch unsuited for it. your father has many times bemoaned your wildness, the wolfs blood that drives you to stubborn recklessness. though you’ve mellowed a little with age and experience, you think you’re still a bit too prone to chaos to be queen of the seven kingdoms one day. never mind the complexities added by the fact that queen rhaenyra’s claim is so fiercely contested, and her half-brother is the one currently physically sitting the iron throne.

thinking about the mess you’re marrying into too much makes your head ache, and the blazing noon sun does little to ease it. leo beside you continues to whisper rapidly about everything he knows about dragons, which is actually quite a lot considering his young age. you think absently you might need to have a word with the maester’s again; leo has wrapped most of the household around his finger, and the elderly maester is prone to indulging your brother when he fixates on a new topic of interest instead of sticking to his lessons.

the sound of hooves on cobble stones startles you from your meandering thoughts, and you straighten your spine as your eyes take in the unfamiliar man riding into the courtyard beside your father while your brother finally falls silent.

he’s handsome, at least; a tumble of dark curls brushing his shoulders, a sharp jaw and a strong nose. though you like to think yourself more than superficial, it eases at least some of your worries to know the prince is attractive to you. your mother had done you the courtesy of explaining what was expected of you on your wedding night after your first moons blood, and in secret since you’d perused the library for books detailing more lustful acts in an effort to satiate your unending curiosity.

you’re worried enough about completing your wifely duties without having to worry about finding the man lying with you repulsive, and so you allow yourself a few moments of relief at his pretty face.

your father dismounts first, gesturing for you to step forward as the prince gets down from his own horse. leo moves forward with you, eyes wide and shining with something akin to hero worship as he gazes at jacaerys. you have a wry thought that perhaps he should marry him since he is so clearly already enamoured, but you brush that aside as your father and the prince approach.

“i am most pleased to introduce my daughter, your grace, as well as my son and heir, leo,” your father says as they reach you, his satisfaction in his successful planning clear as he smiles smugly.

you dip into a perfect curtsey as leo bows a touch clumsily at your side. as heir it would traditionally be leo’s job to greet the prince, but when you send him a sidelong glance you see he is too busy making moon eyes at the darkhaired man to say anything, and so you take it upon yourself to speak.

“welcome to highgarden, my prince. we are honoured to host you,” you greet, finally meeting jacaerys’s eyes. they’re a warm amber shade, the noon sun turning them to liquid honey as he looks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush with the appreciation you can see in his gaze as he drinks you in. it seems he does not find you repulsive either, at least.

he sketches a quick bow, eyes never leaving yours, and you feel your heart start to race in your chest at his attention. “it is an honour to be here, my lady, and to finally make your acquaintance.” he smiles at you then, small and a little crooked but there, and your flush deepens. “i look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days.”

you swallow, hoping your budding attraction is not as obvious as you fear it is. your father is looking increasingly smug as he watches the interaction, though it seems to war with some paternal annoyance as jacaerys lightly flirts with you.

“and i you,” you return softly, a smile quirking on your lips.

“—can i meet your dragon?” leo bursts out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, and jacaerys blinks down at him in surprise as you resist the urge to press your palm to your face.

“leo,” you scold immediately as your father chortles at his heir’s enthusiasm for dragons. “the prince has had a long journey. you should give him a chance to settle in before demanding anything of him.”

“right you are, my dear.” your father waves to the household steward before turning to the prince. “alyn will show you to your rooms, your grace, so that you might freshen up, and then we have a feast prepared for this evening to welcome you to highgarden.”

jacaerys nods easily as the greeting crowd begins to disperse, the maester corralling leo to take him for his lessons with fond exasperation even as the boy loudly protests. you mean to go walk the gardens, and so you stay standing in place as the prince trails after your father and steward alyn.

he pauses beside you, though, a slight smile on his face as you look up at him questioningly. your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his face, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. “i look forward to speaking to you further at the feast, my lady.”

you smile back at him, cheeks flushing once again as his eyes linger on your mouth for a breathless moment. “i shall save you a dance, my prince,” you return a touch coyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“only one dance?” he teases, eyebrow arching.

you hum, head tilting to the side in mock consideration as something like satisfaction gleams in jacaerys’s eyes. “i shall have to use the first dance to judge your dancing skills, your grace, before i risk promising you another.”

he laughs then, a little surprised but no doubt pleased as his eyes crinkle with his wide smile. “then i shall do my best to meet your standards, my lady.” he dips into a quick bow of farewell, then, as you finally take note of your father lingering on the steps to the keep with raised eyebrows.

“we shall see,” you return as you curtsey.

you allow yourself a moment to watch his retreating back, eyes dragging over the strong line of his shoulders before you internally shake yourself and head to the gardens, thoughts swimming with honey brown eyes and tanned, freckled skin and a slow dawning certainty that while this betrothal may be unexpected, you doubt it will leave you unsatisfied.

the feast is in full swing by the time the prince arrives at the hall.

the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune as couples twirl on the dance floor. you sit at the head table with leo and your father, watching with a careful eye as your brother cuts up his food. he’s only just mastered the art of eating his food without spilling half if it down his doublet, but as distracted as he is by the festivities and the prospect of seeing a dragon close up, you worry he’s at risk of making a mess of himself regardless.

so absorbed in your task you are, it takes a long moment for you to realise jacaerys has arrived. it’s only when your skin prickles with awareness that you look up from leo and catch sight of the prince winding his way across the floor to the head table, eyes fixed on you. your head tilts to the side slightly as you watch him move, graceful and controlled, through the crowd.

he’s in black and red again, just as he had been when he’d arrived. it seems your father had been right when he’d stated that jacaerys favours his mother’s house colours. you smooth your hand over the skirts of your dress, the deep wine-red of the material feeling less out of place now, before standing with your father to greet the prince.

you all exchange pleasantries quickly as the noise in the hall dims, people realising the prince has arrived. your father ushers jacaerys into the empty seat between you and your father as he raises his goblet to the hall before speaking in his booming voice.

you don’t pay attention to your father’s speech, too aware of the warmth radiating from jacaerys who stands only inches from you to focus. you risk a glance at him from the corner of your eyes only to find his dark honey eyes fixed on you, and you cannot help but smile to yourself even as you flush, turning your eyes back to the crowd.

rousing applause and cheers draw you back to the moment, and you catch yourself in time to raise your wine in toast with your father. you go to sit back down as the crowd returns to its revelries, but the soft brush of a hand on your arm halts your movement. you turn expectingly to the prince, a soft smile on your lips.

“yes, your grace?”

“would you do me the honour of a dance, my lady?”

your lips quirk into a sly smile even as you bob your head in a nod. “i suppose i did promise you one, did i not?”

“that you did, my lady, and i have thought of nothing else since.” dark honey eyes sparkle with mirth as he offers you his hand, and with a quiet giggle you take it and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.

you feel the heat of his hand on your waist like a brand even through the layers of your dress, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. you inhale deeply in an effort to steady yourself as you rest your palm on his strong shoulder, and are immediately overwhelmed by the woodsy scent of him as he claps your hand in his and begins to dance.

you start the dance in comfortable silence, both of you taking a few moments to get a feel for the other and settle into the steps, and when you feel comfortable enough you speak.

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

“jace, please,” he entreats, and elaborates only when you blink at him in confusion. “my friends and family call me jace, not jacaerys. we are to be married, my lady. it would please me a great deal for my future wife to refer to me as such.”

you nod in acceptance, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his eager expression. “jace it is, then,” you say, and try not to feel the way your heart flutters at his radiant smile in response. “although you have not answered my question. how are you finding highgarden?”

he hums, twirling you as the dance requires and then pulling you closer before responding. “your father has been very hospitable, and it is certainly beautiful here. the grounds especially, though i’m afraid i’ve not had the opportunity to see much of them as yet.”

“a shame we shall have to rectify, i think.” you offer him a small smile as you press just an inch closer, finding yourself wanting to be nearer him. “perhaps i could show you the gardens on the morrow?”

“yes,” he agrees a touch too quickly, and you giggle as his cheeks turn pink. “that is to say— i should like that very much, my lady. very much indeed.”

you lapse into silence once more as the dance reaches its crescendo, and you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of his hands as the music pauses while the minstrels ready their next song.

jace seems to share the sentiment, it seems, as his eyes linger on your entwined hands for a long moment before returning to your face. “have i met your standards enough for another dance, then?”

you take a moment to pretend to consider it, eyes narrowing slightly as you hum. he shuffles on his feet as he waits for your response, and you find the nervous motion far too endearing.

“i suppose so,” you concede after a moment, grinning at his smugly pleased smile as he tugs you closer.

“and what about the dance after that?” he asks lightly, something cheeky in his eyes as the music starts up again and he sweeps you along the floor.

“you should not press your luck, jace,” you say imperiously, although the effect is rather ruined by the silly smile on your face as he laughs with you.

jacaerys smirks. “my lady, since meeting you, i have felt nothing but a lucky man.”

you smother a snort, shaking your head at his unrepentant expression. “you are incorrigible.” it comes out a touch exasperated and yet far too fond.

“yes,” the prince agrees readily, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “but i think you rather enjoy it.”

your startled laugh is loud, though thankfully not so loud as to be heard over the minstrels. “perhaps.”

after that, the night is lost to flirtatious banter and dance after dance in your betrothed’s arms as a seed of affection is planted deep in your heart. and when you wake in the morning after dreaming of nothing but jace’s lips and eyes and words, you can think only one thought;

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

as the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in jace’s company. you’re always chaperoned, of course, a household guard following at a respectful distance wherever the two of you choose to roam. you find the whole thing a touch ridiculous; jace is to be your husband. it’s hardly like spending time together alone would be a significant scandal in light of your impending marriage, but your father insists there will be no doubts about your honour before the marriage actually takes place and so ser dickon is assigned as your reluctant shadow.

the date of the wedding itself remains unset as you and jace start to know one another. your father wishes for the marriage to wait until the war is done – a last-ditch chance to keep his options open, perhaps. Or, if you are feeling generous, a way to try and keep you safe from the greens when war inevitably rages. jace’s mother wishes the marriage to happen as soon as can be arranged – a way to try and ensure further heirs with the uncertainty of war looming, you assume.

you find yourself hoping the queen’s will wins the day as time creeps on. jace becomes ever dearer to you the more you learn about him, and soon you think of your impending marriage with nothing but hope and warm desire.

because oh, how you want him. from the first moment you’d laid eyes upon him you’d been attracted to him, but the more you get to know him, the more your heart opens to him – the more you ache for him. for his mouth on yours, his fingertips on your skin, his voice in your ear. if you were a less reckless woman, a little less shameless, you’d be embarrassed of how easily you think of him in your moments apart.

but late at night when the candles burn low and you are alone in your bed, there is no shame to be found, only the wildness of your wolfs blood and liquid heat as your hand drifts between your legs and you find completion with your betrothed’s name on your lips.

beyond the desire, though, is a slow blooming affection. it feels like every time you learn something new about him or share a new experience together, another petal of tenderness unfurls in your chest. when your father had first told you about your betrothal, you’d not dared to hope for more than civility with your husband-to-be, but now you find yourself harbouring deep fondness on top of steadily burning desire, and you look to your future as his wife with little else but excitement.

you’re not sure if jace feels the same. you don’t doubt he desires you; his flirtation and the weight of his gaze on your form is too frequent a thing for you to think otherwise. but desire is not the same as affection, and though you hope desperately that the way he always seeks your presence whenever he steps into a room means what you want it to mean, you can’t be sure.

after a week passes, you both start to chafe at the relentless presence of ser dickon. it feels like every time you so much as think about inching closer to jacaerys, ser dickon is there with his stern glare of disapproval. and so, when one morning jace suggests taking you to meet his dragon, alone, you are quick to agree.

you leave your guard long behind at jace’s instruction; he doesn’t want vermax crowded with strangers, he explains, but you personally think he seems a little too gleeful at the idea of being alone with you for that to be sole reason behind his insistence ser dickon stays far away. you don’t say anything since you’re equally pleased to finally be spending some time with your betrothed without feeling others curious eyes on you.

your excitement starts to waver, however, as you and jace get closer to his dragon. you’ve only seen vermax from a distance before this, and though it perhaps shouldn’t the size of him startles you. he’s just so large and fierce looking, the sharp spines on his back catching your eye. the beast yawns as you slow to a stop, jace sending you a quick smile before he continues on to greet his dragon with fondness, and the glimpse into vermax’s open maw – gods, there as so many teeth – has your palms starting to sweat.

jace stands beside his dragon, murmuring soothing words in high valyrian that you don’t understand as his hand smooths along his snout. your heart races in your chest, nerves making your hands shake when faced with this great beast. you curse your reckless curiosity, your northern stubbornness that makes it impossible for you to refuse a challenge. you have no idea how jace can look so at ease, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the slightest smile on his face as he talks to his winged steed, but there he stands.

“you can come closer now.” he turns to you, brown eyes shining with excitement and, yes, a hint of challenge.

he expects you to back out, you think, and that realisation has you straightening your spine and pressing your lips together. you twist your fingers in your skirts to hide the way they tremble as you step cautiously forward, eyes darting from jace to vermax and back. when you’re within touching distance of the velaryon prince, he reaches for your hand. the shock of his bare skin against yours arrests you for a moment, the slide of calloused fingers around your wrist startling in how easily it sparks desire in you.

you’re so distracted by the feel of him that you don’t realise until it’s too late that jace has tugged you closer, guiding your hand until it’s pressed to vermax’s scales, and then you’re too busy being surprised by how soft they feel to be annoyed that he’s so easily coaxed you into this position.

you still as the dragon rumbles, swallowing thickly as your fingers twitch against green scales. he blinks lazily at you, an alien intellect gleaming there as he seems to consider you for a long moment, and as you blink back at him some of the fear in your chest shakes loose.

because this is not just some beast, you realise. this is fire and blood and magic made flesh. there is life and intelligence in vermax’s eyes, not one you recognise but one you immediately respect. being this close to the dragon is a heady rush of awe and adrenaline; the knowledge that vermax could so easily harm you at any moment but is choosing not to because he trusts his rider. it’s staggering and wonderful and beside you jace is beaming, eyes shining with happiness at seeing you greet his draconic companion, and you are helplessly, hopelessly, wholly overwhelmed by your affection, your desire, by jace.

you kiss him.

it’s barely a kiss, more a breathless press of your mouth against his, and he startles at the sensation even as his arm loops around your waist. you break apart for the barest moment, nose sliding against his as you tilt your head, and jacaerys sighs out your name with heavy relief before he captures your mouth once more.

you’ve been kissed before, so you know the mechanics of it, but it’s never been like this. his lips move smoothly against yours as his hand flexes on your waist, drawing you closer until your chest is pressed against his. your hand tangles in his hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls and he moans with it, hand dragging up your back to cradle the back of your head tenderly as his tongue sweeps over your lips.

the gentle pressure of it has you gasping and he takes the opportunity immediately, tongue sliding against yours as heat pools in your core. your thoughts tumble wildly, incoherent as you can think of nothing but of how desperately you want more. the taste – the smell – the feel of him is drowning everything out that isn’t jace and you cannot resist it, do not even want to.

you want to kiss him forever, want his hand in your hair and his tongue in your mouth for always. you think he might even let you with how relentless he is, barely giving you a moments pause to catch your breath before consuming you in another desperate kiss.

you finally part only when vermax grumbles, cheeks blazing with heat as you step out of jace’s arms. jace murmurs lowly to his dragon in valyrian, and he nudges his great snout against jace’s shoulder in response before stepping away and curling down into the long grass to sleep. you take the moment to properly catch your breath again, hand pressing to your heaving chest in an effort to soothe your racing heart.

when you peek up at jace from beneath your lashes, you flush deeply at the sight of him. his curls are a mess, his lips swollen and cheeks pink beneath his tan. he looks almost debauched, and it sends a rush of desire through you. you suddenly can think of nothing other than him looking like this only flusher and skin glistening with sweat and in your bed.

the thought startles you into dropping your gaze to your feet, and you shuffle uncertainly. you feel – unsettled. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with sharing a kiss with your betrothed, and yet something like guilt curdles in your stomach as you worry at your bottom lip. you had kissed him. for all that he’d kissed you back, you worry that now he will think differently of you. think worse of you.

a knuckle tucks under your chin, then, lifting your face so that you meet jace’s eyes. you feel small and strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of your kiss, like you have somehow shown him something you never intended to, and the urge to shy away remains. but you are not a winter rose for nothing and so you tuck the doubt away as jace runs his thumb soothingly along the line of your jaw.

“i have been thinking of doing that since the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, a hint of shyness in the quirk of his lips even as he stares steadily into your eyes.

“oh.” you blink at him once in surprise, the uneasiness in you finally settling at the fondness in his gaze. “oh. that’s— good.” you curse yourself for your lack of wit in this moment as jace snickers. “i-i mean, i’m glad that it was not… unwelcome.”

your betrothed looks at you with deep affection, then, cupping your cheek and ducking down to press a fleeting, butterfly-soft kiss to your mouth before reluctantly parting from you. “it was most welcome, my lady. most welcome, indeed.” his eyes sparkle with mirth. “i find myself looking forward to the next time you greet vermax, if this is the kind of response such a thing garners.”

“jace!” you narrow your eyes at him in pretend annoyance, even as you smother a giggle with your fingers. “you should not expect me to indulge in such desires again, then, if you persist in being so smug about it.”

his laugh warms you as the two of you fall into easy banter, leaving vermax to his rest and returning to the ever-watchful ser dickon, and all the while all you can think of is how much you cannot wait to kiss him again.

as the air cools with the dying light of day, you lead jace to the gardens.

in the week since your first kiss, jace has oft tugged you into shadowy corners for more kisses any chance he’s had. his desire for you is matched only by your own for him, and as your confidence in your mutual attraction has grown, you have been equally as likely to pull him into a dark alcove to trade sweet words and sweet kisses in secret.

it’s thrilling and exciting and wonderful, but as the week passes you find a growing doubt whispering in the back of your mind.

while you cannot doubt jace desires you, not when he is so relentless in chasing after your smiling mouth, neither of you breathe a word of any feeling between you beyond attraction. perhaps it is reckless of you, foolhardy to fall for him so quickly – but then you are your parent’s daughter, all wolfs blood and deep roots, and you know no other way of being than this.

so you take him to the gardens as the moon rises in the sky, sneak past the night guards and out into the fresh air. you guide him through the blooming flowers and swaying trees, stopping along the while when the fancy takes one of you to stop and examine an interesting bloom or inhale a sweet scent. at least three times he stops you to slot his mouth against yours, to swallow your breathless giggling with feverish kisses, and each time he does it takes longer and longer for you to disentangle yourselves from each other.

eventually, with swollen lips and mussed hair, the two of you reach the winter roses. your effervescent mood becomes sombre as the moon shines on the blue flowers, turning the petals almost silver, and jace seems to recognise the change in atmosphere, a seriousness overtaking him as he watches you approach the flowers.

“my mother planted the first of these roses,” you tell jace as you kneel at the edge of the flowerbed, uncaring of the risk of dirt on your dress as you brush fingers over the pale blue petals tenderly. “winter roses, they are, from the north. from winterfell. she was born a stark, you see, and when she was betrothed to my father the only thing she asked was to be able to bring a few blooms from the glass gardens. she used to call me her little winter rose when i was a child, and she would bring me here and show me how to tend to them.”

jace kneels beside you, glancing at the side of your face before turning to look curiously at the blue flowers. “they’re beautiful,” he tells you sincerely.

“i’ve always thought so, too,” you agree almost absently, stroking the petals in an effort to calm your racing heart. “everyone told my mother she’d never be able to get them to grow so far south. they’re very rare, you see, and need very particular conditions.” your lips quirk up into a fond smile. “but my mother, for all that she became a tyrell, was always a stark at heart. stubborn, you know. and now look at them, thriving.”

you gesture out at the carefully tended rows of roses. “nobody else comes here, now, other than the gardeners and me. i think… i think my father finds it too hard, being here. it makes him miss her too much. so i come here when i need to be alone. or when i wish to be reminded of her. it's the one place in the world where i feel i can be wholly myself, without any pretence or worry.”

jace’s gaze is fixed on you, now, eyes almost black in the faint moonlight as understanding dawns on him. “thank you for bringing me here.”

you nod once, climbing back to your feet, and jace follows you. he watches you so intently, like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he dares to look away. you feel a little like you might, feel tenuous and vulnerable and a breath away from cracking your chest open.

“i’ve never brought anyone else here,” you confess quietly, flexing your fingers with nerves as jace’s lips part in surprise. “i wished… i wished to share this with you. to share who i am, myself, with you, i suppose.” you laugh a little self-deprecatingly. “however pretentious that sounds.”

“it doesn’t,” jace denies immediately. you sense he wants to say more, but he seems to understand that you’re building to saying something yourself, and so he stays quiet, expression earnest and open and fond as he gazes down at you.

“i know it’s perhaps too soon – we have only known each other a few weeks. but i… when i first found out we were betrothed, i was so scared. i worried you would be some arrogant princeling, and i dared not hope for anything more than civility between us. i’ve always known i would not marry for love, but i did not ever consider i would marry a man i had never met.”

you pause for long enough to suck in a breath, feeling a little like the floodgates have opened and you simply can’t stop speaking, can’t stop the feeling pouring freely from you. “and then i met you, and you were so unlike anything i’d expected. i know we still have so much more to learn about each other, and i know that things are— complicated, with the war, and that our marriage may be a ways off yet, but still— i find myself feeling for you, and i cannot hide it anymore. i don’t wish to hide it from you anymore.”

you let the open affection in his face buoy you as you steel yourself, pressing your shoulders back in a mimicry of confidence. “i wanted to show you this part of me, this place, because i….” you hesitate for a breathless moment, biting your lip, before gathering every scrap of courage you possess and diving in headfirst. “i am falling in love with you, jacaerys.”

you inhale the sweet scent of the pale blue petals deeply, let the familiar scent soothe you as jace stares at you with wide eyes. the winter roses are something that, until now, have been so uniquely yours. as you’d told jace, none other than you and the gardeners comes to this corner of the gardens now. the staff that tend so carefully to the flowers know to leave you well enough alone if they stumble across you, skirts splayed on the ground and fingers diligently caring for the roses. you’ve never even brought your sweet little brother, though you can admit that’s for practicality as much as anything else – his childish energy is a bit too boisterous for these delicate blooms.

bringing jace here, bringing him here to confess the deepening affection you harbour for him, feels raw. feels like you’re tearing your heart out of your chest and offering it up to him for perusal, hands bloody and soul bare. feels like saying ‘this is all that i am and all that i have been and all i will ever be and i hope, i hope, i hope it’s enough.’

jace finally, finally speaks, sighs your name, soft and sweet and tender, and hope blooms in your chest.

“oh, my sweet lady,” he murmurs, crowding into your space as he cups your cheek, and the smell of woodsmoke and dragon and jace floods your senses. “i am falling so unbelievably in love with you. only, it does not feel so much like falling as it is like choosing it, like walking into love with you with my eyes wide open and seeing nothing but you.”

it's almost unbearable, the blazing heat of his gaze as he presses his forehead against yours, and it makes you tremble as your hands clutch as his elbows in an effort to ground yourself to this moment, to him. “our betrothal was decided for us without care or consideration for our own desires,” he says, lips brushing against your own with every whispered word. “i know that as well as you, but i need you to know that if i had the choice i would choose this. i would choose you, your stubborn heart, your fierce spirit, your gracious soul.”

his hand slides from your cheek to your hair, holds you so tenderly like you are something precious, and it steals your breath from your lungs as you revel in his unbridled affection. “i care not when we marry, if we marry, in truth, because in my heart you are already mine just as i am already yours.”

he kisses you, then, a desperate and greedy thing, as if he can no longer restrain himself from devouring you whole. and you are just as needy, hands fisting in his doublet as you press yourself against him and somehow finding yourself wishing to be closer still. the world narrows down to him and him only; his mouth, his hands, his hair. you can think of nothing else, and do not wish to, because in this moment you are wholly yourself and he is wholly himself and it’s enough, it’s wonderful and delicate and it’s enough.

and, there beneath the moonlight and amongst the winter roses, deep and enduring affection, the kind of love the bards sing songs about, takes root.

taglist; @eldrith

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace x reader #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys vaaryon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen fanfic #jacaerys targaryen imagine #my writing

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val-made-a-mistake · 9 months

Note

Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom

venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!

warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder

word count: 3.3k

//////

It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.

For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.

Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.

Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.

Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.

As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.

EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.

The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.

Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.

You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?"

CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.

“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.

Venom was, of course, offended.

I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!

“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”

It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.

HE SHOULD!

“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”

Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”

You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”

Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.

YOU ARE NO FUN!

I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.

It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.

For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.

I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.

//////

The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.

Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.

Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.

As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.

//////

Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”

“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.

“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.

Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.

God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—

Y/N!!!

In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”

Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.

SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.

You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”

WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!

Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”

HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.

Oh my god. He really saw all of that.

You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."

Venom was, of course, still hysterical.

IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!

I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”

I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.

You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”

You hesitated.

“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”

(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)

In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.

Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.

I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.

You raised your eyebrow.

I TRY NOT TO.

You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”

//////

It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.

The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.

In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.

I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.

Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”

I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.

Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.

SHE - SHE HAS -

Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.

As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.

Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.

I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!

Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”

Venom was beside himself, now.

Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!

"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?"

He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.

Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?

I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.

Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.

Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."

I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.

He paused, awkwardly.

BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.

It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.

After a few tense rings, you picked up.

“Hey, Eddie!”

"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.

Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"

“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”

“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”

Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.

SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!

“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”

It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”

"No, it's okay."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.

Of course this was happening.

“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”

Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”

//////

Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.

The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.

To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.

"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."

Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.

He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.

“So - what’s the deal?”

Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.

You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.

You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”

Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.

He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.

“Let me show you?” you offered.

"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--

The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.

There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.

You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.

"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"

"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.

He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"

"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.

It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.

His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"

You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."

Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"

He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.

You nodded. "It was kinda hot."

"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.

Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.

EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!

Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.

You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.

Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.

Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.

(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)

"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.

You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.

Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.

DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!

Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.

"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."

He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."

Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.

SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -

#venom #venom smut #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock smut #eddie brock x reader smut #venom x reader smut #tom hardy #venom 2 #venom movie #venom let there be carnage #venom symbiote #venom imagine #venom 3

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst.

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing.

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat.

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls.

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see.

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way.

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself.

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily.

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is.

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.”

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them.

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be.

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand.

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t.

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge.

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit.

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets.

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything.

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it.

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell.

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen.

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that.

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low.

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help.

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs.

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so.

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die.

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears.

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms.

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he?

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.”

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away.

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use.

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back.

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.”

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath.

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it.

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now.

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice.

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself.

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip.

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold.

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?”

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him.

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t.

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working.

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.”

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left.

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand.

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone.

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating.

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms.

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen.

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night.

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch.

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry.

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time.

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch.

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands.

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch.

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.”

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up.

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die.

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much.

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father.

You have made him whole.

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side.

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!”

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face.

When you pull away, he whines.

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again.

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington sick fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

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snickerdoodie · 19 days

Text

“Sugar and Spice”

Summary: Everyone knew Jake Seresin was a charismatic player. Whether it was flirting with girls at the bar or charming his way out of any situation. But what happens when the blond pilot finally meets his match?

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

A/N: hey guys..I’m not even gonna lie I completely forgot to post this lmao, I got a liiittle busy with everything and it completely went over my head. But here it is! Finally! After two months. This also isn’t proof read, per usual, so sorry if anything sounds off. Enjoy!

Jake’s chatting along with Rooster and the gang when the door suddenly chimes open, taking a quick glance as any human would, but what he sees isn’t what he’s expecting. In comes you, dressed up in a simple white tank top and probably the shorted daisy dukes he’s ever seen, not that he’s complaining though . His eyes rake over your body before he travels further upward, smirking to himself when you accidentally make eye contact. Giving him a nod and a classic small smile, you make your way over to the bar, soon getting into a quick conversation with Penny.

“Well I’ll be damn,” He says into his beer, taking a long sip before wiping his lips with a grin. That causes Rooster to quirk a brow at the unexpected comment.

“What’s up with you? Find a new pair of tits to ogle at?” He quips, noticing Hangman’s intense stare across the room. Seresin shrugs, a smirk still plastered on his handsome face.

“‘Could say that. Could also say I might have just found myself my girl tonight.” And with that, Hangman scoots himself out of the booth he was sitting in and makes his way across the room, gaze dead set on you sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He ignores the unwanted calls and shouts narrowed to him from his friends, too caught up in his next words. Taking a seat on the empty stool next to yours, leering on your exposed skin before continuing.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here sittin’ by yourself?” You turn your head to the sound of the voice, not even hearing him come up beside you. At first, you do a once over at the man, taking in his striking green eyes and Hollywood smile. Then you take notice in his uniform, his sunglasses perched on the fold of his shirt. Must be one of those pilots you keep hearing about. Turning your upper half to him, you smile.

“Doesn’t seem like I’m sitting alone now, does it?” You quip back, setting your drink down on the countertop. The man’s smirk grows wider as he rests an elbow on the wood.

“Aw, no need to thank me, just doin’ what’s needed of me.” You just now realize his country accent, standing out in certain phrases; it makes you fight back a blush. You raise a brow nonetheless.

“Is that so? Did you magically think I wanted you here, Blondie?” You know he wasn’t expecting the nick name when his brows raise for a split second before shooting back down to their original places.

“Eh, I don’t need’a think, I just know by heart. Y’know, with my magical powers ‘n all.” He imitates quotations at the end of his sentence. You huff out a laugh at his words, eyes cascading down to your watered down drink. Taking a sip, you focus your attention back onto the man in front of you. That stupid grin still plastered on his lips.

“Well can your magical powers tell you the name of the lady you decided to make your next target?” It came out a bit harsher than you intended, almost regretting your words. Truth is, you *were* enjoying his company and that southern drawl of his. He honestly was making your night a bit better than just sitting there alone, drowning in your drinks and mind while some overplayed Toby Keith song played on the jukebox.

“I’m afraid that’s somethin’ I can’t do. Care to help me out here?” Relieved he didn’t say anything about your earlier statement, you bite your lip with a smile, nodding.

“(Y/N),” you state, almost missing the way his eyes light up more at your declaration. “What about you, G.I. Joe? Got a name to the face?”

“As a matter of fact I do, gorgeous. Most people call me Hangman but I’ll make a special case and let you call me yours.” He winks with that cheshire grin. You fight back both a blush and a large smile this time at the cringy and overused line.

“Is that so?”

“I’d sure so hope so, ma’am.”

You both stay silent as you stare at each other. While you bite the inside of your cheek, he scoots himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other. You can smell his sandalwood cologne and the beer he’d been drinking previously before coming up to you. Hangman notices your lack of response and licks his lips, eyes flickering from your glass to your hair then to your lips before continuing.

“Tell ya what, sweetheart” he starts, catching your attention, “You name the game. If I win, you’re buying me dinner. But if you by some miracle manage to beat me, you won’t have to endure my charming company ever again.” He finishes, looking very confident in his proposition. You tilt your head and fully face your body towards him, your legs scooting between his as he widens his stance to make room. You swear you could have seen his adam’s apple bob harshly at the movement but you payed no mind.

You narrow your eyes slightly before a small smile stretches across your lips. With the confidence that this man passed on, you carefully lean forward so your palms are resting against his firm thighs. Bracing yourself as you lean in closer. Hangman bites his lip before tilting his head down, his chest heaving in a breath before he speaks,

“You gonna take up on that offer, darlin’?” He drawls out, voice raspy, almost sultry. You look him in the eyes as you lightly squeeze his skin, his smirk growing.

“Y’know what? I will, s’not like I’ve got anything to lose now is there, cowboy?”

I also tried to make my format for my fics a little more..interesting looking. I felt like they’re too boring so tell me your thoughts. Feel free to comment if you liked or disliked something! :)

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #forgot to post this #oopsie #x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun 2022 #glen powell

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comicwritesstuff · 5 months

Note

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV:

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face.

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up”

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!”

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.”

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n”

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport.

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so.

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating.

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets”

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase.

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable.

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky)

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring.

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her.

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun.

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing*

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible.

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago.

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific”

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person”

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work.

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place.

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?”

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital.

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point.

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him.

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House?

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.”

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile.

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks”

“Oh yeah no problem”

Sarcastic asshole.

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?”

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.”

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down.

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down.

“So are you gonna interview me or something?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.”

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though.

“Fair enough.”

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.”

“Y/n! You traitor!”

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?”

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!”

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people.

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside.

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality.

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable.

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him.

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk.

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time.

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?”

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.”

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance.

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.”

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.”

With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.”

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ).

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine.

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.”

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.”

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?”

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor.

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right.

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him.

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?”

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-”

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?”

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin.

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night.

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane.

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit.

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far.

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House.

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

#gregory house #greg house #hatecrimes md #dr house #house md #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house md headcanons #james wilson #robert chase

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kotias · 6 months

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Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable rockstars #human AU #fanfiction

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hyuckiefluff · 1 year

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Pretty Boy pt.2

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers word count: 4.2k content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :( a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.

part 1

As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.

"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."

It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.

Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.

The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.

As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.

You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.

"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."

A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.

As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.

But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.

"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.

Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.

Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.

"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.

He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.

"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.

"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.

"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.

He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.

"How about you fuck me…raw?"

You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.

"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"

He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.

All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.

You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.

Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.

You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.

"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.

You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.

It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.

Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.

His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.

He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.

"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."

“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.

"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."

He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.

You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.

"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.

He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.

The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.

"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.

And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.

“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.

He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?

Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.

At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.

The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.

Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.

"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.

So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.

"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.

"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.

He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.

You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.

What the fuck are we now?

He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.

"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.

"Do what?" you whispered back.

"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.

"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.

“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.

You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.

"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.

"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).

You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.

"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.

feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.

#nct x reader #jaemin moodboard #jaemin imagine #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct smut #nct dream smut

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im-poe-dameron · 3 months

Text

THE ROCKROSE AND THE THISTLE

➛ THE BEGINNING

a/n: originally this fic was a one shot. except it became too long to keep it as one part so it's split into two. this is honestly me obsessing over the idea of anakin remaining anakin while being a sith. no armor, no mask, just him with yellow eyes. so i ran with it and turned it as angsty as possible.

summary: after the galatic republic fell to its knees, whispers of anakin skywalker begin to surface. claims that he was no longer the hero they once knew, but a darkness they came to fear. darth vader. yet when he begins to call to you in dreams, you make a choice that might kill you in the end. you choose…to save him.

OR old friends meet now as enemies.

word count: 4.5k+

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader; darth vader x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, so much of it that it's insane, the hunger for what once was, anakin being evil, dark dreams, talk of death, trauma, fluff, padwan!anakin, soft romance, hopes being tarnished.

THE END | FIC MASTERLIST

His laughter stuck to your skin like a cold sweated fever that refused to pass. It edged its way towards your heart, breaking open your ribs and settling right underneath them. You gasped for air, the heat of the planet seeping into your already bare body with every passing second, and if you weren’t careful it might kill you. Choke you while you slept and continued to dream of the one person you couldn’t save—even if it wasn’t your job to do so.

“C’mon Bandit, that's the best you can do?”

You could see him, a smile on face as he danced around you—the assuredness in his stance and ease in his nature did nothing but make your heart twist violently. The both of you were so young. So innocent and naive; holding beliefs that the galaxy wasn’t as cruel as the Jedi Masters made it out to be. It was a hope that you held more than he did. A reminder in the back of your head that you hadn’t chosen to become this without knowing the consequences. After all, what was light without the darkness that crept around in the shadows, waiting for a chance to strike.

How oblivious were you to what was truly going on with him? How could you not see it? The turmoil behind those blue eyes of his, the pain that laced his voice with every word he spoke to you.

“Anakin,” you breathed, your hand clutching at the sheets that were tossed over your body.

“Well don’t just stand there padawan,” he called out as you were pulled once more into a dream you did your best to fight against.

Twisting your body away from the close swipe of his lightsaber, you felt the heat of the blade brush past your cheek. Master Obi-Wan had said you weren’t yet allowed to fight like this, but Anakin always did like to break the rules. Even if it meant getting hurt. Yanking your own lightsaber off the belt it hung loosely from, you pressed the switch—feeling and hearing the familiar thrum of it as it came to life.

“Last time I checked we’re both padawans Skywalker!” You dodged his move, nearly landing into the bushes that lined the edges of the training courtyard.

He shrugged. “Yeah, but in terms of training, I’m definitely ahead of you.”

Scoffing, you leapt forward, swinging the lightsaber towards his leg. He stepped out of the way, attempting to avoid being sliced open but your other leg got beneath his sturdy one, swiping it out from underneath him and causing him to topple to the ground. He fell with a groan of pain—his lightsaber landing a few feet away, now turned off. Anakin’s eyes went wide as you brought your green blade down until it was directly in front of his nose—nearly singing the hair off his face.

“You were saying?”

“What are you two doing?” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed off the walls, startling you from where you stood above Anakin. “I thought I told the both of you that training alone was off limits until you were ready.”

“Master—” Anakin began, his hand reaching out for something—eyes flashing up to see the panicked expression on your face.

“We were just—”

Obi-Wan raising his hand stopped you in your tracks, the all too familiar sigh leaving his lips as he walked towards you. Shifting your footing, you moved to give Anakin space to get up, but didn’t expect his lightsaber to fly through the air, nearly hitting you in the shoulder. He jumped up—a joyous cry of victory echoing around you as he swung his lightsaber towards you, the blue glow of his blade heading towards you.

Switching yours on with a swiftness neither of you knew you possessed, you managed to block his attack—the clashing of the two colors flashing before your eyes. Obi-Wan’s pleas for the both of you to cease whatever this was were suddenly drowned out as you glanced up—a smile on your face.

Expecting to see the friendly blue eyes you’d grown attached to, you felt a shock go through your system as you were met with a glowing yellow. The green of your blade was striking against the red of the lightsaber he held—his teeth bared in a snarl. Dropping your weapon, you stumbled back as he advanced, a cry of his name leaving your mouth. No longer were you friendly sparring with a boy you’d known as long as you’d been alive, but instead you now faced the man who had been twisted up inside—the man you couldn’t save.

“Anakin!” you shouted, hitting the cold ground beneath you.

Gasping sharply, you shot up in the makeshift bed you had on the rocky floor of what looked to be a cave. A ragged sob left you as you scrambled to gather the sheets around your body, tears streaming down your face while the memories of your dream played on repeat in your mind. Anakin’s face—the jagged scar running down his face, the sinister yellow eyes, the absolute fury in his expression—left you shaking. That was not the boy you had known, but a mere fragmented piece of him that still lived in your mind.

It took you a few minutes to remember where exactly you were and how you got there. But eventually you were able to recall landing on Tatooine, the call from Obi-Wan through the Force coming in loud and clear as you meditated on your ship. For years you’d been traveling from planet to planet. Hiding wherever you could and searching for any Jedi that might still be alive. You knew it was a small possibility, but you couldn’t ignore the tug in your gut at the idea.

So far you counted three. Obi-Wan, a boy from Bracca that recognized you when you hid on the planet, and Ahsoka Tano. The hunt for more put you in a state of constant weariness. With every Jedi you found dead, you continued to feel the break in your connection to the Force. The pain you suffered now brought you to the very edge of giving up entirely.

What use was being a Jedi if you had no one to protect but yourself?

You couldn’t even recall the image of your master’s face anymore, let alone remember what it felt like when peace lived within the galaxy. Now you were constantly looking over your shoulder. The fear of being found, always leaving you teetering on the edge of panic.

Exhaling out a stuttered breath, you heard your name called from the other side of the cave as Obi-Wan was roused from his own sleep. The twin suns were starting to rise in the distance—light breaking through the darkness within the rocks and you felt some sense of peace fill your lungs. For now you would push the nightmare aside and focus on the present. There was no use remaining in the past—in things you couldn’t change.

No matter how much you wished you could.

“Is everything alright?” Obi-Wan asked, his bare feet coming into your line of sight as he shuffled closer.

You nodded, the sweat sticking to the back of your neck. “Yeah I just…I had a nightmare.”

He sat beside you on the floor, offering you a small canteen filled with water, which you took gratefully. “About Anakin?”

Simply hearing his name brought the fire back into your chest, the pain that ran through your body returning with enough force to have you shrinking in on yourself. You only knew Anakin as a friend; had seen him one last time when he entered the Jedi Temple before you managed to escape and drag a few younglings with you. But Obi-Wan knew him like a brother. They were closer than you could have even imagined and while you sat there fighting back the pain—he’d already gone numb because of it.

There was speculation that he died on Mustafar. That Obi-Wan had delivered the final blow—put what once was his apprentice out of the agonizing misery he left him in. But you now knew otherwise. After all the whispers of sightings grew—claims that they’d seen the once heroic Anakin Skywalker destroying planets, killing innocent people—reached your ears. Until you had no choice but to let him in—find him through the one final connection you still had yet to cut off.

“I know where he is,” you muttered, staring at the light dusting of sunlight that covered the floor.

Obi-Wan turned quickly towards you. “What?” You nodded, tracing the cave’s entrance with your eyes. “Where?”

“Right where you left him,” you breathed. “I suppose Palpatine thought he was being funny by remaining on Mustafar.”

“He’s—” Obi-Wan let out a breath, looking down at his hands. You felt grief flicker through the Force—dark and muted. A stark contrast to his usual cerulean blue. “Did you see him?”

“That’s the awful part Obi-Wan,” you said, the tears streaming freely down your face. Or perhaps you hadn’t stopped crying in the first place. You could no longer tell. “He called to me…like you did, placing memories in my head of our past together. And—then I saw his face and his—his eyes are…” Trailing off you wiped roughly at your cheeks. “He’s no longer Anakin.”

“He called to you,” Obi-Wan murmured.

At first when the dreams started, you couldn’t tell if you were finally losing it or if your mind truly held a twisted sense of humor. Playing back every happy memory you shared with Anakin. Every daring adventure you both took together and more often than you would have liked, the kiss you shared in the middle of Tatooine—the night his mother died. It was a past you wished to forget and yet it was seemingly forced upon you night after night.

“Why?” You shut your eyes, once again seeing his yellow eyes flash in your mind. “What does he want with me?”

Obi-Wan stood, turning his back to give you a chance to dress yourself. “He may not even realize he’s calling out to you.”

Shoving your tunic back on, you tied it around your waist, your boots going on next. With the heat that spread around Tatooine you regretted showing up in the black clothing you wore, but they were all you owned. The black cloak you’d been wrapped in reminded you of the man you tried so hard to forget about. After all, it was his to begin with.

One freezing night on Ilum—a mission to get him a new kyber crystal after he destroyed his lightsaber—led to him handing over his cloak. In a foolish turn of events, you forgot yours on the ship and Anakin didn’t want to return back to Obi-Wan with you half frozen to death. You could recall the way he’d wrapped it around the both of you, his arms tight on your waist as you hid in the caverns of the planet. What you thought would be simply another mission, wound up being far more than you expected.

You realized the depth of your love for him in the perils of a planet that would end you without mercy. The irony wasn’t lost to you. Trapped in a place that felt like your fury of emotions—the danger of what you harbored like a fugitive.

Sure, you’d shared your fair share of emotions with him, kissing here and there, but nothing progressed further than that. His heart had always belonged to another. And you accepted it without question.

“He’s dreaming,” you whispered, picking up your lightsaber and clipping it to your belt.

“His mind may not yet be settled completely in the dark side of the Force. It would betray him in dreams.”

“But why me? Why not you?” They held a closer bond and Anakin would surely call for his former master before he called for the girl he once entertained the idea of feelings with.

“You represent a time in his life when he was happy.”

“So do you. So why does he—”

“I left him half alive on Mustafar. Padme is dead,” Obi-Wan stated monotonically as if he were reading it from a book. “His mind wouldn’t turn to memories of a woman he could no longer reach. If anything that would only push him further into the dark side.”

You sighed, the pain in your head now spreading down to your neck. “Unless he’s trying to figure out where his children are.”

“No, he doesn’t know they’re alive.”

Letting out a breath, you tried to focus on the small inkling of light that came through the Force. Your last attachment to it suddenly become your life line every night you fell asleep; the pain of reliving your past was so grueling it became torture in its own way. You felt the familiar press of Obi-Wan’s energy against the back of your mind as he gently asked for permission to see what you saw. To relive the memories with you.

“You won’t like what you find in there,” you muttered, slipping on the cloak that somehow still carried fragments of Anakin in the fabric.

“Perhaps not, but nonetheless Bandit.” Flinching at the nickname bestowed upon you by Anakin himself, you relented and allowed your walls to collapse to the ground beneath you.

None of it mattered anymore. Not the love you felt for him or the anguish you endured when he fell for someone else, because he wasn’t Anakin anymore. He merely wore the face of a man you thought you knew once upon a time—a memory that refused to die.

“Just remain still,” Obi-Wan said, watching as you returned back to where you were sitting, your legs crossed and eyes falling shut. “This won’t hurt.”

You both knew it was a lie, but you didn’t care much at that point. He’d already delved past your walls and was now digging through your memories, yanking up each one that Anakin had placed there. Inhaling sharply you dug your nails into your clothed thighs as he pulled up one that proved you and Anakin both went against the Jedi Code at least once in your life.

Once again his laughter filled your mind, splintering your heart in two.

“Tell me Bandit,” Anakin leapt over a rock in the middle of a river, his boots splashing water everywhere. “Why didn’t you want to come here?”

You sighed, picking up a stone and tossing it—watching with satisfaction as it floated in the air for a second. Courtesy of Anakin attempting to show off his powers.

You were sent to Kashyyyk as a part of the Jedi's diplomatic training for padawan, but halfway through Master Yoda told the both of you to stand guard near the camps. Which led to Anakin and you residing in the middle of a river, watching as birds flew overhead. The sounds of the forest around you breathed life into your lungs.

“I can’t help it if my master thinks I need diplomatic training,” you replied, emphasizing the word diplomatic with a roll of your eyes.

“Every Jedi needs it.” He tossed a pebble your way, watching you focus to float it in mid-air, copying him. “Or at least that’s what Obi-Wan tells me.”

“And what do you think?”

He shrugged. “I think that diplomatic training helps us make a difference in the galaxy. We’re meant to be peacemakers right?”

“I guess…” Shifting, you turned to see another bird fly overhead, making a shrill sound you’d never heard before. “But what’s the point of being a peacemaker when so many think of the Jedi as soldiers?”

“That’s where the training comes in handy,” he said, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Then tell me Skywalker, what makes you such an expert in the diplomatic areas of life?”

He tossed another pebble, laughing when it hit your shoulder. “Sometimes you have to make negotiations as a Jedi.” He jumped to shore, dropping another stone to the collection he’d been steadily building since you found the river.

“Ah yes but not all of them are peaceful,” you called out, following him and landing on another closer rock.”

“Obi-Wan likes to call them…aggressive negotiations.”

“Let me guess… That means negotiations—”

“With a lightsaber,” he finished for you—smiling.

You fell into laughter at that, throwing your head back as a lovely ache spread through your stomach. Only for it to quickly divert into a yelp at the feeling of your foot slipping on the rock. Losing your balance, you quickly tried to right yourself, but knew there wouldn’t be a way to fix it in time. So you gave into the fall. The pain would last for a moment, but Anakin’s hand grasping onto your wrist steadied your movements. He brought you back to a standing position. Where you promptly fell against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands cupping your cheeks to tilt your head back.

Nodding, you felt your throat dry up once you realized exactly how close he stood to you. It wasn’t right to feel the sharp tug in your heart at the sight of his blue eyes which bored into yours—the color nearly putting the river itself to shame. You shouldn’t hold these feelings for a fellow padawan—you knew the rules inside and out, and yet…he still hadn’t let go of your face. His thumbs rubbed gently at your cheeks, a faint smile playing on his lips as he saw your own part slightly.

“What would you call this?” you inquired breathlessly, hands pressing against his chest and feeling his heartbeat beneath them.

Anakin breathed out a puff of laughter—the warmth of it washing across your cheek as he moved even closer. “A polite conclusion.”

Before you could smile, he dipped down, pressing his lips against yours and effectively ceasing your words. You’d always wondered if he would ever kiss you a second time after what happened on Tatooine. Neither of you spoke of it again after he pulled away and left you standing there, but you knew something had shifted between the both of you. Just like it did now. Sliding your hands up until your arms wrapped around his neck, you tried to keep yourself balanced as he once again tore the ground up from underneath you.

It was him pulling you closer that did you in. His lips were soft—you always knew they would be—and it took everything in you not to ask for more than just this. The warmth of his tongue pressing against your bottom lip jerked you out of your reverie, causing you to practically tear yourself away from him. His arms only tightened around your waist, lips more insistent as he coaxed you once more into a kiss that shouldn’t have happened.

You opened your mouth, melting into his hold as his tongue pressed against yours and felt the steady thrum of your heart speed up exponentially. Until you were sure it would burst out of your chest.

“Beautiful,” he murmured—pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“They could find us,” you said, fighting against the haze he put you in. “They could—”

“I don’t care.”

Three words shouldn’t have made you submit so easily, but there you were giving into his kiss yet again. Whimpering into his mouth and kissing him back with enough fervor to throw him off slightly, causing him to stumble back a bit. This shouldn’t happen. It wasn’t right. Jedi weren’t meant to form attachments. Especially not with other Jedi. The heat of his tongue against yours shoved the words right out of your mind, but still something continued to feel off.

It wasn’t…right.

This…didn’t—it didn’t feel…right.

“Enough!” you exclaimed, shoving Obi-Wan out of your mind as you clutched your head, the tears now falling down your face in waves. Heaving in a ragged breath, you tried to piece the walls that enclosed your mind back together, but found you couldn’t.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Just don’t,” you snapped. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

You knew it wasn’t right to turn your anger on Obi-Wan, but there was so much of it that you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. At this point you weren’t sure if the anger truly belonged to you or if it was Anakin’s pouring into you from the Force. Still you struggled to maintain it, breathing deeply as you fought to get back to the light side of the Force.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, watching as the inside of your mind waged war on itself. “I know why he’s calling out to you.”

“Why?” you asked, helpless against the mental anguish that you were going through.

“He loves you.”

Scoffing, you struggled to get to your feet. “Don’t be ridiculous Obi-Wan. He never loved me.”

“If you believe that then there’s no hope in saving him.”

Turning, you felt the anger flood your veins, shoving its way to the surface. “Saving him?” you shouted. “There’s no saving him! He murdered the people we cared about. Younglings! He turned himself into what they wanted him to be—what they molded him to be.”

“We’re Jedi. We must keep the peace no matter the cost—”

“And how far will you go to keep this peace? My death? Your death? The death of Luke, of his sister?” Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed. “Anakin Skywalker is dead. In his place Darth Vader walks the path of the Sith.” You shut your eyes, doing what you could to right your mind. “Saving him was never an option.”

“We have to try.”

“I don’t,” you replied, effectively shutting yourself off from the Force as Obi-Wan attempted to push his way through to you.

“Then what will you do? Keep hiding?”

“Yes!” you cried. “I will keep hiding, because the Jedi Order is gone and everything we stood for, everything that kept the balance…he destroyed. I would rather think him dead than be constantly reminded of his betrayal.”

Obi-Wan stood, his expression exactly the same as when he told you of what transpired that fateful night. “You’re being selfish and that’s not the Jedi way.”

“Fuck you.” The words were spat out harshly in his direction. “I choose to forget all that pain and if that makes me selfish…then so be it. Perhaps you should try it.”

You were being cruel to him—unfair—because the anger inside of you could no longer be contained behind the walls of your mind. Whether it was yours or Anakin’s you could no longer tell, but it hurt either way. It felt as if you were being stabbed repeatedly in the heart with every new memory, dream, and hope that was shoved your way. Obi-Wan’s ideas of saving Anakin were merely fantasy. Yet that didn’t stop you from believing they could be true—that you might be able to save him and stop this madness.

“Do you think I haven’t tried?” His words startled you. “I wish I could forget what I did to leave him there, how I nearly killed him. It haunts me with every dream and every memory—just as it does you Bandit, but I…do not have the luxury of forgetting.”

He was right. You knew it down to the very marrow of your bones that being able to forget was simply a transparent hope you held onto. Eventually it would shatter in your hands, leaving you bleeding in the end, just as he did. Only how could you try and save the man who did so much damage? Who broke your heart over and over again simply to gain the power to save the ones he loved from death.

“He’ll kill me,” you whispered, eyes staring at the now orange sky that peeked through the entrance of the cave.

“How do you know?”

Scoffing, you glanced at Obi-Wan. “I just do. Even if he did love me, love is a weakness to Sith.”

“Yes. You’re right.” He stepped closer, his palm falling to your shoulder and grasping it softly. “But a weakness in Anakin’s case could be just what’s needed to save him.”

You wanted to deny his words, to pretend you could simply remain as you were. A fugitive in a galaxy that was under siege—a galaxy that could no longer be saved. But the familiar feeling that pulled at the back of your mind rose up—making space in the hollow space of your chest that once housed your heart. The need to help. To bring peace once more and show that the Jedi of old weren’t gone entirely.

“I don’t know if I can face him,” you whispered, staring at the lines of your palm in the hopes that they would make his eyes vanish from your mind. That you wouldn’t have to live with this suffering.

“We all have to face him eventually,” Obi-Wan admitted.

You knew what he meant; how the feelings waged a war in his own mind too. He was just as terrified to finally see the man he once knew, to witness what Anakin had become, what the dark side turned him into. The fear still lingered in his mind, overtaking everything he knew like a plague. There was never any other alternative than this. The second Anakin turned, the both of you were left with nothing else to do except scatter amidst the galaxy.

It was a grief that weighed heavy on your shoulders.

A loss you’d never come back from.

“There’s nothing we can do to help him.” As much as Obi-Wan wanted to see otherwise, you knew that to be the truth. Anakin was beyond helping, but even still you found yourself unable to let go of the hope. That constant echo of what once was now resurfacing the longer you tried to fight against this.

You were a keeper of the peace. A protector of those who couldn’t protect themselves.

You were everything Anakin turned his back on and somehow in a twisted way…it might just be what could bring him back.

Obi-Wan watched as you fought with yourself. Your mind was dark and filled with turmoil, but then he saw it. The small glimmer of something bright reflecting back at him. That once evergreen hue flickering to life again—matching the light of the weapon you once wielded with pride. He watched as the Jedi you once were—the master you came to be—bloom before his very eyes. Obi-Wan try as he might would not be the one to bring Anakin back from the dark side. Even you might not succeed in this task, but he could see the determination in your eyes, the power that filled your stance.

In the depths of your memories he saw the truth. The reason why he urged you to go.

You would die for Anakin.

Just as he would have died for you.

It was a bond stronger than any he’d witnessed before and he could see that you knew it as well.

“I’ll need a ship,” you said, finality echoing in your tone—eyes sharp and clear.

He grinned, reached for his cloak and the small pack of credits. “I’m sure there’s something to be found.”

#anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x jedi!reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #anakin skywalker #darth vader #my writing

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reidmaniac · 2 months

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opposites attract || spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: none, just pure fluff

comments: i honestly might turn this into a series. like they could go on a date and fall in love slowly but let me know what you guys think.

also quick thank you to @aperrywilliams for helping me with the story!!

- - -

it was early sunday morning. you had woken up, taken a shower, and put on a light pink sundress that was covered in white flowers. you walk down the stairs and grab your pitbull puppy. you clip her leash onto her collar. “you ready girl?” you ask as you grab your tote bag, which contained all your essentials: a book, house keys, wallet, and your phone and lock the door.

you pick up your puppy as you approach the coffee shop, your bag on your shoulder. you talk quietly to her as you walk in “we’re just gonna grab some coffee, then park okay?” you say, looking at how cute she is. you see a man in line and take your place behind him, still speaking to your dog. as the man finishes his order and turns to walk out he notices you. he admires how sweetly you speak to your dog for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for you to notice. you look up at the man and immediately feel your cheeks flush. he’s handsome, you can’t deny that. you two maintain eye contact for a split moment, but you break it when you feel laila trying to jump from your arms. you rush up to the counter, face still red, and order.

you had finally arrived to the park. your eyes searched for an empty bench as your dog dragged you around, looking around and sniffing trees and bushes. you had finally found and empty bench and settled yourself on it. you couldn’t shake the man from the coffee shop from your head. the way he admired you as if you were a masterpiece, or the way he maintained eye contact. you finally pulled out your book, you were rereading romeo and juliet. you had only read a few pages when you heard a voice.

“did you know shakespeares real name wasn’t really william? it was really gulielmus, which is the latin word for william. he began referring to himself as will in sonnets” you look up at the man, and you smile big. it was the man from the coffee shop. “wow? really?” you ask, nerves sitting in the pit of your stomach. “i didn’t know tha-” your response was cut off by laila jumping up him while wagging her tail. “oh my god,” you say, standing up, “i am so sorry” you reach your arms out to grab her. he begins to pet laila with a soft smile. “no, no, it’s okay i love dogs” he says, looking down at you with a face full of nerves. you build up all the courage in your body before you ask him to sit. “would you like to sit?” you say, anxiety coating your voice. “are you sure? i don’t want to impose” the man replies. “i’m sure!” you say with a smile.

what felt like minutes, but was truly hours, had gone by, you and spencer just sat talking. you had learned all about spencer’s job, his family, his personality, basically everything you could ever imagine. laila was sitting between you two the entire time, and how she was currently asleep on spencer’s lap. every time you spoke, spencer admired you. your bubbly personality outshined everything around you two, and in that moment it truly felt as if you two were the only ones in the park. “but yes, my coworkers do like to say i’m a-” his sentence was cut short by his ringtone. “just one second, it’s a coworker” he stuttered. you nodded at spencer, telling him to pick up. “hey morgan. no im not really busy, i’m just at the park right now. mm, okay i’ll be there as soon as i can” he replied to the man on the other end of the phone before hanging up. “i’m sorry, we just got called in on a case” spencer tells you.

he warned you of this, the constant calls, the constant cases. “it’s okay spence, do you mind if i get your number before you leave? i really enjoyed talking to you” you say, your heart sitting in your throat. “o-oh of course. can i see your phone, i’ll type it in” he says, hand shaking as he reaches out. you hand him your phone and he puts his number in. “thank you spence” you say with a smile as you put your phone back in your bag. “can i walk you home y/n? i just want to make sure you arrive home safely” spencer asks, nervous tones coating his voice. “a walk home from the famous spencer reid? i’d love that” you reply with a smile before you stand up and grab laila’s leash.

spencer stands up right after you. he gestures for you to lead the way. he looked around, seeing the sunset. “hey look!” he says with a smile and points at the sky. you look up and see the beautiful sky. shades of orange and pink cover the blue that was there hours ago. “wow! it’s so pretty!” you exclaim. “i love sunsets!” you say, whilst taking out your phone to take a photo. spencer mumbles, “i know” before smiling at your face. your eyes were lit up like a kid in a candy store.

you two continue walking until you reach your apartment building. “thank you for walking me home spence” you say as you stand infront the door. “it’s not a problem y/n,” spencer says looking down at your eyes “i don’t live very far from here anyway.” you look at spencer’s eyes, the brown shade sucking you in. “goodnight spencer, i hope to see you again soon” you say with a soft smile. this moment was so bittersweet, the both of you could feel it. you place your arms on spencer’s shoulders to steady yourself before placing a kiss on his cheek. spencer’s face flushed red almost immediately. “g-goodnight y/n, i want to see you soon as well. i’ll give you a call when i’m back from my case okay?” he smiled, face still bright red. “okay spencer!” you say and turn towards your buildings door.

just before you hit the buzzer, you turn back to spencer. “hey spence?” you yelled out? “huh? yes?” he says and turns back to look at you. “is it true what they say? opposites attract?” you ask, curiosity showing over your features. spencer stops in his tracks. “well scientifically, it hasn’t been confirm-” he replied before you cut him off. “no, what i mean is do you believe opposites attract?” you ask again. spencer smiles softly, “yeah, i think they do.” you hum and he says as he turns around, mind still full of you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #reidmaniac 🍵

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frozenjokes · 4 months

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Put Me In Perspective, Or At Least In My Place (Another Retrospective On Aromantic Love)

“Above your head like this. Both hands, look at me. Both hands, Grian. It doesn’t take a lot of strength, just step forward and release around eye level.” Cleo demonstrated, holding the axe at the end of its handle and releasing the weapon. It flew in what had to be a perfect arc before burying itself in the wood, a bullseye of course. She threw the axe like she’d done it a thousand times, and honestly, she probably had.

“Don’t people throw them with one hand, too?”

“Yes. It’s just harder. Try this first.”

Grian pursed his lips, stepping forward, throwing, then squeaking when the axe bounced terrifyingly off the wood, hitting the wall before rolling and bumping the curb that separated the stall and his feet. Ah. That was frightening.

“Nearly took out our ankles there,” Cleo said, not sounding all too concerned.”

“It- Can it bounce over that?”

“Not easily. But not uncommonly either. Try not to do that.” Cleo strode forward, plucking the axe off the ground and handing it to Grian. “Don’t throw it while I’m in there.”

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Maybe you won’t, but some people need to be told,” Cleo grunted, ripping the axe she’d thrown from the wall and spinning it thoughtlessly in her hand before burying it in the stump that split their twin alleys. “Try again. Keep your wrists straighter, release at eye level.”

Grian shifted his weight, frowning, “Surely you brought me here to talk about something else other than axe throwing. ‘Cancel your plans, I’m picking you up,’ is an extremely ominous message to receive from a stranger at 8:00 at night. How did you get my number again?”

“Pearl. And we aren’t strangers, we’ve met at least once at that big friend get-together thing, you know. That awful pizza place? Regardless, I’m friends with runners, so force is necessary 90% of the time. If you want to skip to the talking, we can talk, but I don’t know if you want to hear what I have to say.”

“I probably don’t.”

“Then start throwing and I’ll do the work. You’ll get it to stick, just give her a few tries.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in me.”

“Everyone gets it eventually.” Cleo looked relaxed, unconcerned, and Grian tried to match the energy, but he couldn’t quite shake his anxiety. Well. He was here, so he might as well make the most of it.

It took six more tries before he got an axe to stick. Wow that was satisfying- but the air seemed a little too heavy to celebrate more than Cleo’s tasteful clapping. Maybe he should come back here with Pearl and Impulse.. Jimmy maybe? He’d kill to see Jimmy try this actually, even if he’d likely crush Grian in the end. When Grian went to collect the two axes from the stall, Cleo finally spoke.

“I’d like to know what’s going on between you and Scar. Properly. It’s been a particularly shitty week for our friend group and Scar’s been in a foul mood for more reason than one, so we haven’t talked. And I’m not just here to interrogate you about Scar either, I’d really like to know what’s going through your head as well. Have you seen each other this week? Have you talked at all?” Cleo was firm, but nothing about their voice was hostile. There was a worried longing there, the kind of urging that came from a deep concern for a good friend.

Grian took a deep breath. “Not much. I saw him a couple days ago when I was getting lunch with Pearl at the zoo. He only texted me one other time to tell me he wouldn’t be.. we have this mutual place we hang out, and he just told me he wouldn’t be around this week. Too much going on. I’m really sorry about Etho by the way, I hope you guys find him.”

“Thank you. Bdubs got in contact with him yesterday, so we know he’s alright. We still don’t know where he is or when he’s coming home, but from what I’ve heard, he’s keeping frequent contact. Hasn’t called me or Scar, but that’s typical. With any luck he’ll be back safely soon. That’s what Etho said anyway. Still all sorts of concerning, but we’ll take what we can get.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” Grian tried not to be hurt that Scar hadn’t updated him, but failed miserably despite the fact it probably wasn’t any of his business. He just would’ve liked to know, that’s all.

“It is. So how did that clusterfuck of a night happen between you and Scar? How did that start?”

“Oh,” Grian mumbled, fidgeting with the axe still in his hands. Cleo took the other from the stump, throwing it almost lazily, like the question didn’t matter to her much at all. Grian decided to do the same, focusing on the secondary activity instead. “Well.. he invited me over. That was a couple hours after our first spat, and I was still feeling weird about it all. Wasn’t well.”

“I figured. He reached out to you first?”

“Yeah. We weren’t supposed to do anything though, just.. get it out of our systems. I was so mad at him- I’m still so angry, and not even for any reason in particular. I’m just mad.”

“Then how’d you end up in his bed?”

“Oh. I kissed him. He was pissing me off.”

“Right.”

Grian scoffed, snagging his axe off the floor of the alley after a failed throw. “How did you think this all went down? He told you the jist, basically. Not nicely, but he told you.”

Cleo shrugged. “I just wanted to know a few more details. Place my judgment a bit more accurately. From where I’m standing, you’re both idiots self destructing in the dumbest way possible. I would like it very much if this didn’t happen again, not only because it’s bad for both of you, but quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Come on.”

Grian curled his lip. “Listen, I don’t understand why it’s such a huge problem for Scar and I to work out our differences with a little violence. We're consenting adults and the sex was kinda nuts, so if we’re both having fun there’s no issue. In any case, I’m pretty sure this is solving all of our problems.”

“Oh? Do explain.”

Grian rolled his shoulders, throwing his axe and getting it to stick for the second time, “We’re just letting off steam, Cleo. Two months of awkward tension does a lot to a man, it does a lot, nothing good. This is like a shortcut to the whole ‘tiMe hEaLs aLL’ bullshit, we’re like- getting it out of our system.”

“Uh huh. And this is going to resolve your unrequited feelings for Scar how..?”

“I’m getting it out of my system, Cleo.”

“Ah, so having really good sex with a man who isn’t looking for the same things in a relationship as you is going to fix you.”

“You got it.”

“That’s the dumbest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” For the first time, Cleo’s axe bounced off the board. She strode to pick it up wordlessly.

“Alright.” Grian landed another axe, just inches from the bullseye.

“Grian,” Cleo sighed harshly, and Grian avoided her eye, uninterested in her scrutiny, “Listen. As dysfunctional as the both of you two are, I don’t actually believe this couldn’t work. You two have been as thick as thieves for ages, and as much as you’re scrapping now, I don’t think that’s indicative of how you actually feel about each other. You’re just hurt people hurting each other, and you don’t have to be. For goodness’s sake, Scar would have been happy to be in some sort of relationship with you, he just didn’t want to lose you altogether. Somewhere I think that got lost in translation.”

“Scar doesn’t want to date me. He only offered to appease me, it was as obvious as anything.”

“I don’t doubt there’s truth to that. He doesn’t do well under the pressure of a love confession, and that’s no one’s fault. But his feelings on romance are a lot more complicated than ‘wanting’ or ‘not wanting.’ You did the right thing to refuse him, Grian, he wasn’t ready. But I think it’s worth talking to him again. Laying everything out on the table. And I can’t speak for what Scar wants, his brain is a mess of tangled wires and sparks, but he’s obviously had plenty of time to think about this, and he might surprise you. If there’s one thing I do know about Scar, it’s that he loves to give things like this a try. And I mean that. He does love it.”

“But Scar won’t love me. Not like I want to love him.”

Cleo hummed, thoughtful as they considered the ceiling, “You know, I don’t know if that’s true.”

Grian huffed, “Unless I’m misunderstanding what ‘aromantic’ means, I don’t see what you mean.”

Cleo shrugged. “Scar loves everyone in big sweeping gestures. That doesn’t change from person to person, whether they’re family, close friends, lovers.. it doesn’t change. But there are still levels, right? There’s still loyalty. You’re thinking of Scar as loving you like a friend, but I think that’s the wrong approach. Making that distinction makes it seem like his love would be less intense, like he wouldn’t still give you everything he has. Try.. a scale, 1 through 10, maybe. For you, you’re looking to give Scar your 10 on the scale, right? A 9 or 10, whatever it is, that’s the kind of love you want to give, the kind of love you’re looking to receive. In Scar’s brain, he’s been giving you that 10 for months, and if you asked to spend the rest of your life with him, he’d probably go ahead and accept without hesitation. That’s just how he feels about the people he’s close with.”

Grian didn’t speak, still working out how to process those words, but Cleo did not mind continuing in his absence. “If you’re worried about not being #1, then I’m afraid you’re fighting a losing battle, friend. With anyone. You’re contending with mothers, brothers, sisters, friends that go back to high school, grade school, diapers. Being intimate doesn’t outweigh those bonds, not for most people. And this isn’t to say that a relationship with Scar would be exactly the same as it would be with anyone else, it won’t, and if you’re the type of guy that gets insecure when your partner is physically friendly with other people, then forget it, but in my truest of hearts, if you’re looking for someone to love, I believe Scar would be more than good for you. He would treat you well,” Cleo paused, thoughtful before continuing, “And honestly, things literally can not get any messier between you two. There are zero stakes to giving this a shot. You’ll either feel a lot better about yourselves or you’ll go your separate ways, both of which are a huge improvement to whatever the fuck is happening between you two now. Maybe you’ll even stay friends after talking all this shit out. Who knows.”

Grian returned his axe to the stump, needing to sit down. To think. He was quiet for a long time just sitting there, the only sound being the bustle of other customers and Cleo’s own axe hitting its mark time and time again.

“You really think he’d want to give it a shot?”

Cleo shrugged and shook her head noncommittally, “Who knows. But it wouldn’t surprise me. So long as you two actually talk this all out, I think anything could happen. And Christ, if you two decide to get together and still want to ‘fall down the stairs’ then have nasty sex afterward, that’s your prerogative, but for crissakes, at least wear some sort of padding or a helmet or something, don’t actually kill each other.”

Well. He had gotten Scar that helmet, hadn’t he.

“I’ll think about it,” Grian mumbled, eyes lidded. And he was. He was thinking quite hard about it.

#suggestive #hermitshipping #scarian #hermitcraft #hermitfic #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #zombiecleo #I forgot to post this lol #mumbomaid au

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essentiallyleaf · 11 months

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Ya know what , I'll give you an idea

As a commercial pilot how bout a kink "plane sex"

And pls write Rosé with this kink

day 15. body worship. with. rosé.

1268 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, body worship, lots of kissing and licking, feet stuff, abs stuff, oral sex, fingering, squirting, minor plane stuff, the dialogue just goes places idk, hold onto your suspension of disbelief for dear life, blasphemy(?).

notes.

this is barely even related to the ask, isn’t it? sorry, icyphilosopher, i really am (thank you so much for the inspiration though). well, my excuse is i watched Queen & Slim (it was alright, the soundtrack might be the best part. that and Daniel Kaluuya) and felt like crime today.

The private jet has barely taken off when Rosé starts taking her clothes off, starting from the black heels, then proceeding with the black cropped blazer, the high-waisted black shorts, along with the belt and the chains attached to them, the polka dot black shirt, and finishing with the black stockings and her black underwear. She puts them all in a black trash bag and throws herself on the beige leather sofa face first, completely naked.

“Fuck this ‘No fires on the plane’ rule.” She complains into the beige pillow.

“I mean, if you want to burn them now and cause a fire, making the jet collapse on itself and getting us buried on the bottom of the northern Pacific, go ahead.” You reply nonchalantly as you take a sip of vodka while sitting cross-legged on one of the beige armchairs.

“Honestly, compared to the prospect of a ten-hour flight with you, that doesn’t even sound that bad”

It’s Rosé’s habit to burn clothes, phones, cars, (people,) anything that can be linked to her in a meaningful way, after every job. This time it was a fairly straightforward drug trade with this Yakuza syndicate in Osaka: give the talcum powder, take the money, go home. The road was somewhat bumpy and a couple heads had to pop, but what can you do. Oh, and the getting naked in front of you part, that was a thing way before you two started fucking.

You stand up from your seat and duck next to the couch as she turns her head towards you. Start caressing her smooth, long blonde hair as you admire her graceful features. How could such a cold, brutal criminal look so angelic?

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Leave no trace.” She recites her mantra matter-of-factly.

“You think someone’s on our trail?”

You lay on top of her and start kissing her shoulders, from the left, then move her hair to kiss her neck, to the right, and back a couple times.

“Someone’s always on your trail.” Your kisses start heading down her back, each a little wetter than the previous. “You know how it always ends with people like us, right?”

You think you hear Rosé’s voice break for a split second, but you could be wrong. Place your hands on her shoulders and start slowly making little circles with your thumbs as you keep traveling down.

“We get greedy and scared and die sad and alone?”

“We always trust one person too many”

As your trail of kisses gets to her lower back, right above the curve of her ass, you flip her body around. Bend her legs on her chest, then start massaging each foot with one of your hands, going from the middle of her soles, to her heels, to the balls of her feet, untangling her muscle fibers all the way through. You hear her humming in the meantime.

“So? Would you stop living your life for that?”

“I would try my best not to end my life because of that.” You bring her feet to your mouth and start pecking her toes, then travel down the inside of her feet and up again kissing her soles. “Plus, it gives me a sense of peace, of liberation”

“Ashes to ashes?”

“In that analogy, I would be… God?”

Take a long lick from her heel to the ball of her foot, ending by wrapping your lips around her big toe and licking all around it.

“Do you feel like one?”

“I don’t think God sees himself like we see him” She moves her other foot towards your mouth to signal you to switch, which you do, as your hands reach towards her small breasts and start softly playing with her rosy nipples. “Powerful men need people to adore them to feel immortal. Immortals don’t need our attention to be powerful”

“You think God is a woman?”

“I think God is a depressed fuck.”

You let out a chuckle. Then lower her knees again and place yourself between them to start kissing and licking her wonderful, sculpted abs. Your right hand almost instinctively starts lightly rubbing her already wet outer lips, your left grabbing her plump asscheek.

“What a short couple billion years alone in the button room could do to ya”

“But honestly, working on the wrong side of the law… I think it’s hard not to feel like one” She starts panting a little in between words.

“Ego?” Your mouth slowly travels down her lower stomach while your fingers play with her nub.

“Just, pure facts. I could kill a man that crosses my path at any time, and I have. Mmmmh. We just, own their lives. The decision to let them live on, or to end them, right then and there. It’s all ours. Yeahh- How do you not feel all-powerful when you have that?”

It becomes hard for her to complete a sentence without any moans in between.

“Does it matter?”

“W-What?”

Rosé’s focus is probably directed away from the conversation, and towards the feeling of your fingers opening her lips wide and your tongue taking one long lick from the bottom of her slit up to her sensitive clit.

“I don’t know them. Are decisions over the lives of people you don’t care about even worth making?”

You take several shorter licks around her slit, side to side, up and down, once in a while penetrating her hole slightly.

“What do y-youh care about?”

As her moans become longer and more frequent, her sentences become simpler and shorter.

“Right now, taking my money home”

Your tongue digs deep into her pussy, you try to reach every corner and crevice of her heat with it, and her whimpers tell you you’re doing a pretty good job at it.

“And th-en, what?”

Your mouth detaches from her right as she sounds like she’s going to give in. You get on your knees and pause for a second, looking at the empty floor of the plane.

“...I don’t know, a legacy?”

“Villains have no legacy, they only leave bloody paper and hate behind them”

You get back down to face her, staring right down Rosé’s deep brown orbs. Your fingers return to her lower lips, and two of them make their way into her slippery walls, drawing a loud groan off of her. You start pumping in and out of her at an ever increasing pace.

“Love. I want someone to come back home to, to be there, waiting for me, to heal my wounds.” She’s now moaning right in your face, her pitch getting higher and higher, signaling her impending high, but her eyes are wide open and locked on yours. “To be able to spend time with, in silence, without it feeling awkward, not needing to worry about the future, just looking at her in the eyes, and, being in love.”

A few final pumps and Rosé starts repeatedly contracting around you, a stream of unholy water covering your entire hand and wrist in a profane coating, only a deep, tongue-filled kiss muting her screams as she finally can’t keep her eyes open anymore. You close yours with her as her arms wrap around your neck. The kiss lasts far longer than the already lengthy while she takes to recover from her strong orgasm. As both of you stare into each other’s pupils again, you’re the first to talk.

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll start from, looking at the junk I’ve collected on my way, before burning it”

footnotes.

god is a journey. progressively, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #blackpink #rosé #rose #blackpink smut #rose smut #rosé smut #blackpink rose smut #blackpink rosé smut

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binzlovenicetingz · 1 year

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Heyy, can I request a will poulter imagine since you do fanfics for 🧍🏾‍♀️. Ig a long distance scenerio that as lot of angst but end in either fluff,smut or angst I’m down for anything. I’m just thankful for a poc writer honestly 😭

Imagine you are in a relationship with Will but both of your work schedules are pushing you further apart. The distance begins to cause a strain on your relationship, leading to a fight that might end your relationship..or is it?

warning: 18+ only, language, smut, oral(f receiving), unprotected smut(wrap it before you tap it), you said you were down for anything lol, established relationship, slight angst, no beta reading cause I'm a thug, y/n is a black reader but woc/poc are welcomed🤎

You and Will rarely fight.

Sure, you two have had disagreements but those never escalated further. There's no yelling or backhanded comments, if anything, you both learned very easily on in the relationship that you both hated going to bed angry and always made it a point to talk out your problems together and come to a peaceful resolution.

So why haven't you heard from him in over a week?

The last conversation ended in a heated fight over FaceTime. It was going on close to a year since you last saw each other in person - not like it wasn’t anything that you two weren’t used to but this time around, your schedules made it damn near impossible to even call, especially being in different time zone.

You didn't want to admit it but it was hard - and as you lay in your hotel room, you couldn't stop the ache that's been slowly building in your chest. You hated fighting with Will and especially hated it had you questioning you own relationship but it felt like you were the only one trying!

Will joining Marvel and becoming apart of the MCU was a big deal and you couldn’t of been any more prouder of him than you already were. He was working hard, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little neglected and when there was finally a free week in your schedule, you made sure to tell him.

It was only a week and you missed your boyfriend like crazy, so you were going to make it work. That was until he broke the news to you, reshoots. You were hurt, crushed really, and from the other side of the screen, you could tell he was too. It wasn’t Will’s fault, you knew that but couldn’t hide the sadness anymore. You let it out, and in turn, he rightfully defended himself. Looking back on it now, it was a stupid fight but in that moment, you angrily ended the call and turned off your notifications for the night.

'A few days to cool off is needed' you thought to yourself on set but before you knew it, one day turned into three and soon enough you were in your hotel room getting ready. You had glanced down at your phone, thinking about shouting a text first but your pride wouldn't let you and with a new reason to be upset all over again, you left the room and got your Uber.

It was the wrap-up party for a mini-series you were working on with HBO or should you call it Max? You didn’t know and frankly tonight, you didn’t really care, the only thing on your mind was Will. You scan the room as cast and crew mingled about. You should be celebrating with them, enjoying completing a project you spent years writing and having a great team to back it up but right now, you just wanted to be alone.

Stepping out to the private balcony, you breathed in the summer night before taking in the view. The restaurant that production rented out allowed you a decent view of the skyline and enough height to see people walking below or coming to dine in and as you people watch for a split second, a familiar figure just down the street looking slightly lost.

"Will?" you squinted, getting a better look and seeing that it was in fact, Will, and you quickly called out to him before finally getting his attention.

"Surprise!" He shouted and you tried to stop the smile from growing on your face but you couldn't help it.

"What are doing here?"

"Surprising you!"

You didn't have much to say after that, all the anger and pent-up frustration all but faded and you wanted nothing more than to ditch this party and spend it with him.

So you did.

On the way back to your hotel, Will let it slip that you had to bride your assistant to give him the location and when you asked why he didn't just call you, Will sheepishly pulled out his cracked open, scratching the back of his head. "Kinda messed around and broke my phone on set the other. I had my manager book my flight and everything."

You could of swoon.

It was quiet as you enter your hotel room, Will shut the door behind him as he watches you carefully. He doesn't know why, but he felt nervous, maybe it was because this was the first time you'd been in the same room in close to a year.

"So, um I-"

"Listen, baby, I'm-"

You both rush to speak, smiling slightly as some of the tension leaves the room. Will stepping closer until he was sitting next to you and naturally, you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You whisper softly, not wanting to break this bubble.

A sigh leaves his lips, "I should be the one apologizing, Y/n.

"Can we just agree that this fight was super dumb and forget it happen?" you glance up at him smiling softly at you as he pulls you closer.

"Forget about what?"

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. "And thank you for coming all the way here too, it really means a lot."

Will places a gentle kiss against your forehead before pulling back slightly as he takes in your beautiful features. "I really was trying to surprise you."

A smile graces your lips, "and you did surprise me, really."

"Maybe I should get a reward for my brilliant plan."

"And what kind of reward were you looking for?"

"Hmm, a kiss should suffice."

You were giggling now, "I think I should be the one asking for a kiss."

Will quirks a brow, an amused smirk playing on his face as he shifts in his seat before easily pulling you onto his lap. "Really now?"

You innocently nodded your head before letting out a playful sigh, "Yeah, I was left all alone, broken-hearted and sad-" a surprised yelp leaves your lips as your easily picked up and tossed over Will's shoulder without even a second thought, yelping again when you feel his hand give your ass a quick slap before he places you on the bed, lips meeting in a kiss that quickly turned heated.

The dress and heels you wore were taken off with ease but you couldn't say the same for your panties which were practically torn from your body and Will's lips kissing down your body until he reaches your wet center.

The sounds that tumbled out of your pretty mouth had him groaning into your core, earning another whine and buck of your hips to meet his hungry mouth.

"Yes, p-please ahh, more!" you begged as your fingers tangled into his hair and tugged on his roots. You were already sensitive from being pent up for so long that you felt everything he was doing to your pussy; his flattened tongue rubbing over your throbbing bud before wrapping and sucking on your clit as his finger pumped into your sobbing core. You were breathless and started feeling way more exposed than you even realized getting lost in the feeling of his mouth and feeling the heat rushing from your ears down to the tip of your toes that it takes you a few seconds to realize that Will stopped his movements.

You quickly tug at the end of his shirt, "You got too many clothes on." Will chuckles, sitting up between your parted thighs and easily discarding his shirt as you take him all in.

"Better?" He asked but you quickly shook your head and he caught on quickly, getting out of his jeans and briefs, and you were finally blessed with seeing his harden length after so long you could cry. You were just reaching for it when his much larger hand stop yours, "Later, darling, I really need to be inside you right now."

You could see the neediness in his eyes, stroking his cock at just the thought of finally being inside you were breaking his cool, and honestly, you didn't want to wait anymore either. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as your legs spread for him. The tip of his cock brushes against your dripping folds and you can't help but moan, raising your hips to catch more friction. That's when he eases into you, both gasping at the stretch that had your walls already squeezing him in more.

"So tight," Will groans, his face buried in your neck that his breath tickles your skin, raising goosebumps. He eases into you some more and your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back as your nails dig into his back but he doesn't seem the least bit fazed from the marks you were giving him while you try to keep your wits end.

Will soon pulls back, his large hands traveling down your quivering body until he's pushing your thighs back unable your knees are touching your chest in a gasp but he doesn't stop his thrust. His eyes flickering lower to watch his cock sink deeper into your wet pussy, the slick sounds coming from your tight was starting to drive him mad.

"Fuck, I might just cum right now," he whines, his cock hitting your spot just right you were starting to see stars. "you're so good to me, baby. so pretty taking my cock, yes!"

He usually wasn't this vocal but you weren't complaining, responding back in whimper and moans since you feel your brain turning to mush when he slows his pace but thrust deeper.

Will drinks in your appearance. You look so beautiful with your face contorted with pleasure, your eyes half closed and your glossed lips parted with sweet-sounding moans, and the louder you got, the more tempting the thought of fucking you all night was in the stars. He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you. It was hungry and messy with all tongue and teeth. The hand that wasn't on your tit moved to your clit, rubbing quick circles on your swollen nub.

You clamped around him even tighter feeling his hand and with the way you were moaning into his mouth, he knew you were going to cum and he wasn't far behind either. Your fingers tangled in his hair once you broke the heated kiss, forehead touching

"That's it, baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock." He strokes deeper, leaving you panting more as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and from the low hiss leaving his lips, you're sure you broke skin this time but you didn't care, not when your eyes fluttered shut, body shooked underneath him as your orgasm ripped through you in waves after waves. "C-Cumming! I'm cumming!" His pace was unrelenting, giving your more deep thrust until he buried his cock deep inside you, flooding your tight walls with his cum.

It was quiet aside from you two catching your breath. He gently drops your legs as he steadies himself on one arm, he uses his other hand to caress your cheek, your eyes meet his gaze a soft smile grew on both your faces.

"I love you."

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know."

You and Will rarely fight but when you do, you two are always making up in the end.

@penny44224

#will poulter #will poulter x black reader #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter fic #black reader #woc imagine #black reader imagine

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glutengoblin · 1 month

Text

Guilty As Sin, Sebastian Sallow X Reader (Part 1)

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long. Originally, I planned to make it just one complete part before posting. Given its length, I decided to split it up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the love on my other pieces of writing, it means the world to me!

(She/her pronouns, house neutral)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Some 18+ Content

Disclaimer: I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to "Guilty As Sin"

Though the Hogwarts library was typically where MC liked to study most, today she couldn’t capture her focus. At some point when she was working through the stack of parchments she needed to complete by the following Monday, the words had begun to blur indistinguishably together.

Studying alone was a complete drag. Placing her head on the desk, she resigned to taking a short break, in the hope that it might allow her to regain her focus.

She felt as if she had begun to blur into the background noise of the library herself. The gentle chatter of students working together, the occasional shush from Scribner, and the tap of quill pens against the desks nearby only served as a reminder of how quiet her life had been since it had all happened.

The events of her 5th year had hit her like a freight train; she felt as if that was the only appropriate way to describe it at that point. Learning that she had magical abilities (let alone ancient magical abilities), the nearly insurmountable weight of having to protect the wizarding world on her shoulders, and the eventual loss of her mentor was more trauma than any 15-year-old should have to endure. She knew that now. Yet, somehow, one of the worst parts of that trauma was trying to work through what was left of her shattered friendships.

Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit had stuck around thankfully- she wasn’t entirely alone, and that much she was thankful for. Their crew managed to keep her mostly entertained, as there was a never-ending supply of mischief that they managed to get her into. Poppy always managed to find a way to add a new best to the vivarium. Figuring out their care was a constant challenge, and MC was thankful Deek was so willing to help in the endeavor. Natty, on the other hand, constantly dragged MC into the Forbidden Forest, hell-bent on ridding the Earth of the few Ashwinders that still meandered about the land. Garreth was… Garreth. That alone was enough to keep her on her toes.

Ominis and Sebastian… That was another story. Since the events occurred in the catacombs, Ominis and her had spoken occasionally in the undercroft, mainly trying to parse through what was left of Ominis’s shattered emotions, due to the betrayal he felt his best friend had committed. It was an effort to convince Ominis that they shouldn’t send Sebastian to Azkaban the moment he killed his uncle. He felt as if Sebastian had now sealed his fate towards turning into a dark wizard. However, once he calmed down a bit, Ominis seemed to conceptualize Sebastian’s decision as an act of self-defense; still, Ominis felt like their friendship was forever fractured beyond repair, and the boys hadn’t spoken since.

At first, MC had done her best to avoid being around, or even thinking about Sebastian. They had grown remarkably close during their 5th, honestly to the point where MC had found herself beginning to think of Sebastian as more than a friend. But after her fifth year, she needed time to try and process what he had done for herself. She kept her space, and he seemed to fall into their new rhythm. Gone were the days of playfully shoving each other as they walked the Hogsmeade streets, mouths full of pumpkin pasties. Instead, their relationship was reduced to glances across classrooms, followed by the occasional smile from Sebastian - but nothing more.

MC’s friends picked up on the obvious changes in behavior from her and Ominis towards Sebastian, and somewhere along the line, they had decided he was person non-grata. While none of them knew what he did, for Ominis and MC to turn their backs on him, they were forced to assume the worst. Thus, even if MC ever did want to try and close the gap, she felt like couldn’t. Part of the reason she adored her friends was because they had grown so protective of her since her fifth year- but she also resented it, feeling as if golden handcuffs now controlled her every move in regards to Sebastian.

The world blurred back into focus as Poppy plopped down beside her, looking over the papers strewn across the table. Poppy picked one up, examined it, and frowned.

“Seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Poppy offered a small smile, receiving a laugh from MC in return.

“You could say that. I just need to get all of this done by Monday. And quite frankly, it's a lot.”

Poppy let out a soft melodic laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but unfortunately that will be our future for the next year.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, and flipped a page, examining its contents as she tried to pull the information from her mind. At this point, it was simply beyond her. Thankfully, she generally started her work early, and since it was only Thursday she decided it might be best to take a break. She began shuffling the papers into neater stacks, looking over at Poppy.

“I'm honestly not sure I can focus for much longer. How do you feel about a break? Perhaps a walk to Hogsmeade might be in order?” Poppy flashed a smile and began helping her friend pack up her papers.

“That sounds wonderful.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Although it was only September, there was slight a crispness about the air that spoke of fall in Scotland. Y/N savored her breaths, and the feeling of sunlight dancing on her skin, knowing that soon the area would be reduced to days full of rain. Though she adored the chillier fall days, colored by falling leaves and perfect for drinking tea, she was thankful she got outside while she could.

Poppy trotted alongside her, excitement evidently growing as they reached the Hogsmeade gates. The town was pretty rowdy for a Thursday, but that was likely due to the fact that it was the first-week students were back in Hogwarts. Most of them were likely retrieving supplies that they had forgotten to purchase before returning to school.

Y/N sighed, her thoughts wistfully returning to two years ago, almost to the exact day when Sebastian had been guiding her on that exact quest. While the troll attack had certainly put a damper on things, Y/N had greatly appreciated the time she got to spend with Sebastian. She knew from that point onwards that they would be great friends, or even something more. **She bit her lip at that additional thought, unsure of exactly where it had come from.

Truth be told, that was a lie. She had been eyeing Sebastian at the Great Feast earlier that week, and in their first few classes together. The transition to the seventh year had done something to him. Although she had always considered him attractive, he had grown taller and filled out a bit. While not overly muscular, the new changes certainly made him look older, something she found her thoughts wandering too over the past couple of days.

Y/N snapped out of her state of quiet contemplation when the pair reached Honeyduke’s. They were on the hunt for some treats to add to their stashes. Poppy made a beeline to the jelly beans, while Y/N took some time to peruse the chocolate frogs. Garreth had told her a rumor that apparently there was a way to determine which card each container held. The print supposedly differed slightly on each container, so Y/N leaned in to study the stack, trying to look for any hint of this supposed difference.

Eventually, she stood straight again to passivated the tinge of pain that played at her spine for bending over too long. To her surprise, she looked over the stack to find herself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“S-Sebastian?” Y/N choked out, caught a bit off guard by their sudden proximity. Although the stack of treats still separated them, this was closer than they had been in over a year. It was then that Y/N realized how tall he had grown - the difference was a bit startling now.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully.

“Y/N- I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point this year. I-I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” A look of shock crossed her face, before settling into an uncontrolled smile. Maybe this was the way to bridge the gap after this year.

“Alright… About what exactly?” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but an instant later, Y/N felt an arm being looped through her’s. She looked over to see Poppy, who looked to be a mix of both uncomfortable and pissed. Poppy’s eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, obviously sizing him up.

“How do you do Sallow?” She asked, her voice dripping with more disdain than Y/N had expected to ever hear out of Poppy. Sebastian’s smile flattered for a moment, a glimpse of a frown crossing his lips before he gained control of his emotions again.

“I’m good Sweeting. It’s good to see you after so long.” Poppy offered a disingenuous smile, before turning to Y/N.

“Y/N, we must be going. I heard a rumor that there’s a sale on pet feed at The Brood and Peck. We must go before they run out. Bye Sebastian!”

With that, Poppy practically dragged her friend out on the street, spinning around to face her.

“What was he thinking! Suddenly speaking to you like that- after a whole year! The audacity.” She shook her head, as Y/N studied the ground, trying to decide on the best method to proceed with this conversation.

“It’s alright Poppy. Honestly, it was nice to see him again after so long.” Poppy frowned at that, clearly a bit distraught at that comment coming from Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know why you and Ominis stopped speaking to him, but it must have been bad to cause that big of a rift in your friendship. If it truly hurt you that much… I would just be careful around him. You really don’t need any more emotional turmoil in your life.”

Y/N sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as she thought about Poppy’s point. She had to admit, in a sense she was right.

“I’ll take your comments under advisory Poppy. Now, was there truly a sale at Brood and Peck?” Poppy instantly brightened up at the question, the frown melting from her face.

“Oh yes! You think I could lie about something like that? So, we must head over- we definitely need more fed for the vivarium before they run out.”

With that, the girls departed the front of Honeyduke’s. Y/N glanced back once they had taken a few steps, and swore that she could see Sebastian in the window, looking at them. But, she turned around to follow Poppy, figuring that the mystery of what Sebastian wanted to discuss would best be left to later.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A day later, Y/N was sitting in her dorm, polishing off the last of the stack of homework she had been working on the previous day. Although it felt lame to be doing work on a Friday night, rather than being out with her friends, Y/N enjoyed it. Getting all of her homework done now meant that she could enjoy the rest of her weekend.

Just as she was dotting her last Is and crossing her Ts, an owl flew in through her open window and dropped a letter in front of her. Y/N was a bit surprised, as typically she received mail in the mornings at breakfast. Needless to say, receiving a letter at this time of night was a bit strange.

Y/N opened the envelope, as the owl sat perched on her coat rack. To her surprise, she instantly recognized the handwriting, even a year later. It was Sebastian's.

“Dear Y/N,

I'm writing to you because we were unable to finish our conversation yesterday at Honeydukes.

I've been wanting to speak with you about what has transpired since 5th year, and mainly, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.

Y/N, I am deeply sorry for the way I pulled you into my schemes that year. It was unfair to you, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your friendship like that. You're a true friend, and I had very few of those. So, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate everything you did for me.

Secondly, I'm assuming that part of the reason why you haven't spoken to me is because of what occurred in the catacombs. All I wanted to say was thank you. Over the past year, without you, Anne, and Ominis in my life, I've realized the error of my ways. That the path was dragging me further down, away from my family and friends - the people who matter most to me. I'm sorry.

I also feel horrible for not being there for you after Professor Fig's death. I know he was a great mentor to you, like a parent, and that it must have hurt very much. I feel horrible for not being able to support you through that time.

I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If that's not possible, I completely understand. If so, I wish you all the best in life. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Sallow”

Y/N sat there, a bit shell-shocked at what she had just read. There was no bit of that Sebastian snark in the letter. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and trying his best to bridge the gap that formed between them.

Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she retrieved a fresh envelope and piece of parchment from her slightly broken desk drawer, and began to hastily write.

“Dear Sebastian,

While I admit it was difficult to come to terms with what happened 5th year, I feel as if I finally can.

Your apology is much appreciated, but I should also apologize to for abandoning you in what must have been one of your darkest times. That is not the actions of a true friend, and I am deeply sorry.

While I certainly think that things are more complicated now, I believe I'm ready to try and be friends again.

Best,

Y/N”

She quickly sealed the envelope with a press of wax, then gave it to the owl along with a stray carrot she kept around for her own. She felt bad that she had kept the owl waiting for so long, but as it flew off into the darkening sky, she knew she had made the right choice. Keeping Sebastian waiting for a reply till the next day seemed unnecessarily cruel.

Given her work for the day was finished, she decided that she might as well get ready for bed. Ominis had asked for her assistance with something tomorrow, and though she was unsure of the task entailed, she wanted to be well rested.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Ominis approached her, as she sat on a bench reading a book. Although it was already after breakfast and she had gone to bed at a decent hour, Y/N hadn't gotten good rest. Truth be told, she was up most of the night, twisting and turning at the thought of Sebastian's letter.

Being friends again was a thought that excited her. She had missed his snarky comments and excitement about activities like crossed wands. But, rebuilding their friendship would also be difficult. Not only did they have to work through their own messes of emotion that were left with the trauma, but also Y/N had to mind her other friends. Based on Poppy's reaction the other day, she figured it might be best to keep the information that she and Sebastian had reconnected to herself.

Y/N was startled from her train of thought when Ominis approached her, and cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Y/N. I appreciate you meeting me here today.”

Smiling up at Ominis, she shut her book and stood.

“Of course. May I ask what it is you want help with?”

Ominis nodded, and then began working towards what Y/N knew to be the entrance to the undercroft. “I was hoping we could finally get the place neatened up a bit. I feel as if we’ve basically abandoned it since the events of 5th year- occurred. One day, some new Hogwarts students may happen upon it, and I want to ensure that we’re setting our best possible foot forward. Is anyone around?” He asked, as they approached the entrance. Y/N glanced around, determining that the coast was clear, and they descended into the opening.

The undercroft had developed a solid layer of dust since they had last visited. Crates were still stacked haphazardly across the floor. The place had once been such a comfort to Y/N, so welcoming. She, Ominis, and Sebastian used to spend hours of their time there, studying, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Now, it was reduced to simply a storage place.

Y/N glanced over at the triptych, only for a second, as the memories from their escapades 5th year came flooding back. Though she didn’t miss that period of her life, she realized then that she did truly miss how close she and Sebastian had been.

Shaking herself loose, she inquired what Ominis wanted to start cleaning first. Walking forward, she began to rid the space of the crates, replacing them instead with a new set of training dummies. The candles were soon replaced too, with newly conjured unused ones. The two continued working, determined to make the space they once held so dear comfortable again.

Soon enough, the undercroft was sufficiently cleaned to their liking. Y/N had even conjured a few new pieces of furniture, which were scattered around the place. A new couch, with a coffee table and matching chairs, were perhaps the best additions. Y/N and Ominis were certainly thankful for it as they took a break, admiring their work.

“I think it looks great.” Y/N smiled, patting her friend on his hand.

“So do I.” A smile crossed Ominis’s features as Y/N let out a chuckle at his joke.

“I’m sure it does.” She paused for a few seconds, considering her next words carefully. “It doesn’t quite feel right without Sebastian though… Does it?” That earned a curious look from Ominis, who thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I still have yet to speak to him since everything happened… But I suppose you’re right. It does feel strange to be in here and not hear his quite annoying voice bouncing off the walls.”

Y/N sighed, slightly regretting bringing up the topic, as she knew how heartbroken Ominis had been at Sebastian’s indiscretions. Still, she felt as if they had to discuss it at some point. “Ominis…Have you spoken to Sebastian since it all happened?”

Ominis let out a sigh, his face now turned away from her as he seemed to search his brain for the correct words. “He actually sent me a letter.”

Shock spread over Y/N’s face, as she turned to grab his hand, urging him to continue. “He did…?”

“I- Yes. A couple of days ago. He sent me an owl. Said that he deeply regretted all the pain he had put me through- said he wished that he had been a better friend to me, and listened to my concerns. If I’m being honest… I still haven’t responded. I’m not really sure how to. Part of me wants to forgive him. He was my best friend- but I’m not sure I should… Not after everything.” Y/N could see tears play at the corners of his eyes, as Ominis seemed to contemplate his statements.

“I… that must be difficult. I’m sorry Ominis.” She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for what she was about to say. “Please let me know what you decide to do, I’ll support you either way.”

In some ways, Y/N already knew that was a lie. When it came to Sebastian, she could never find it in herself to be logical. And now, especially since he had apologized to her so sincerely, she could already feel herself slipping back into the grasp of her emotions for him. Truly, she didn’t know what would happen now that Sebastian had sent them both letters… But she hoped for the best.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Later, Y/N returned to her dorm room to find another letter bearing the same crest as yesterday, perched on her desk. She sat down, retrieving her letter opener, hands shaking slightly at the fear of the contents.

“Dear Y/N,

I appreciate your forgiveness more than you could ever imagine, and your apologies, although they are unwarranted.

I’m not quite sure how to approach this “becoming friends again” thing, since I’ve never done it before. So, I suppose I should just start with simple questions: How are classes going for you this semester? Do you still love pumpkin pasties? Are you still afraid of spiders, even fighting off so many of them?

I look forward to your response.

Best,

Sebastian :) “

Y/N smiled to herself at the awkwardness that radiated from his writing. It seemed as if the ever-confident Sebastian Sallow had finally met the match of his charm.

As she sat thinking of a response, her quill twisting in her hand, she considered just how she should approach it if Sebastian asked to meet in person. Ominis still had his own decisions to make regarding forgiving him. Her friends still seemed to feel questionable about him. All factors combined, she felt that it was definitely the right decision to keep the knowledge of their correspondence to herself for a bit until she could figure out how to better approach the situation. She was glad she didn’t admit anything to Ominis.

With that thought through logically, she began working on her letter, eager to send it out before nightfall- Hopefully, that would mean yet another reply from Sebastian that night.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Y/N. Thanks for meeting me here- you don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian took a step forward in the dim light of the undercroft, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve been hoping that someday you could forgive me. I know I’m horrible, and I’m the last person that deserves your time… But I… I want you to know that I love you.”

The next thing she felt was the press of his lips against her’s. As if on instinct, her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her height and further into the kiss. Sebastian stalled for a second as she increased the intensity, before eventually catching up by wrapping his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if she was his last shot of life.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Sebastian studied her eyes. “Y/N… as much as I love you, you need to wake up now.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly agape. “Sebastian… What do you mean-?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sitting stick straight up in her bed, her breath coming in in panic gulps. She surveyed her surroundings, still reeling from the dream that felt more realistic than any dream she had experienced to date. After a few more breaths, she was able to compose herself- that is until she realized that there was more sunlight than usual streaming through her blinds and until she saw the time on her clock.

With ten minutes to make it to potions before she was late, Y/N was sure that she had never managed to get ready so quickly.

When she finally plopped down next to Poppy in her normal seat, the Hufflepuff looked extremely worried. While Y/N could look disheveled from time to time (often a symptom of her many adventures in the highlands), this was a worse state than Poppy had ever seen her in.

Glancing at Sharp first to ensure he was too busy lecturing to notice, Poppy nudged her friend gently, her brown eyes pooled with concern. With a hushed tone, she whispered, “Y/N- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N looked startled by Poppy speaking to her, but managed to get her bearings back quickly. “I’m fine Poppy- I just had an interesting dream is all. Now let's hush before Sharp yells at us… again.” Poppy nodded in response, but her face was still painted with worry.

But, she relented and tried her best to focus on the complex lesson of yet another potion that she would never have any application for.

Though the lesson lasted for another hour, ‘an hour too long’ Poppy thought, she didn’t forget about her strange interaction with her friend. Not wanting to push her for more information, since that never really seemed to work with Y/N, Poppy decided to discuss the matter with Natty instead.

As students were finally filtering out of the classroom, Poppy made sure to catch up with Natty, gently pulling on her robes to get her attention. “Natty… would you mind having a quick conversation with me? It’s about Y/N… I’m worried.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Despite the fact that Poppy’s behavior made Y/N feel like she was onto her, Y/N decided to spend the rest of her day as normally as possible. As normally as possible, that is, with thoughts of Sebastian crowding her mind.

She was in a daze throughout all of lunch, barely noticing when Garreth had managed to concoct something that turned a 1st year’s head blue. She could hardly focus through the rest of her classes that day. Even crossed wands couldn’t get her to feign her attention. She barely even reacted when Leander Prewett was shot across the room, which on any other day would have been the highlight of her day.

Instead, she waited for the hours to pass, since the thoughts didn’t seem to. His lips, his hands, his smile, his messy brown hair - each minute detail that made him up. She begged for time to speed up, hoping that the sweet relief of sleep might free her from her mental prison.

By the time she finally made it back to her dorm, she hardly even wanted to open the letter that Sebastian had sent that evening. But, given it was now a cherished part of her routine, she felt as if she should.

There was nothing substantial in it, especially compared to where her thoughts of him had been leading. Instead, it was simply a continuation of the conversation they had been having the previous evening- a drabble about the Holyhead Harpies, and various other quidditch teams. One’s they had both followed during their fifth year. Discussions of quidditch had been a sweet relief during the torment of those long months. Despite not having ever played the game herself, Y/N felt connected to it- truth be told Sebastian’s enthusiasm for the sport probably had something to do with her sudden interest during fifth year.

Y/N wrote a quick reply, figuring he was owed at least that, before resigning herself to going to bed. She readied herself for sleep hurriedly, craving the sweet release of a free mind.

Only it wouldn’t come. Instead, her mind was riddled with even more intense thoughts of him. Of his hands on her, touching her places that no one had before. His hands running down her form, savoring her curves. A thumb, gently caressing her cheek. And, perhaps worst of all, his fingers tracing letters on her thigh. With a shiver going down her spine, she realized he was spelling out “mine”.

Eventually, Y/N woke at 3 am, her mind likely deciding that it couldn’t bear any more of the torment her mind had to offer. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it seemed pointless to try to sleep again. Trying to set herself to something productive, she realized that she did need a few potion ingredients - specifically ones that were harder to procure. Specifically, ones that required a trip to one of the places Hogwarts students were not allowed to go: the Forbidden Forest.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “might as well go while I’m least likely to be caught.” Once she had made her decision, she set to prepare herself. A thick coat, scarf, and socks per usual, and a couple of extra wiggenwelds for good measure.

Thankfully the common room was deserted as she decided to take the floo flame, opting to land near the entrance to the forbidden forest.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was why she never felt scared of the area - after all, it was significantly more dangerous than staying in the castle. But Y/N was always confident in her ability to defend herself. Never once had she wanted to be considered a fragile flower. Thus, even though the area was eerily quiet, enough so to give her momentary pause, she decided to continue.

She had begun her way through the forest, quickly picking out a couple of the ingredients she needed for her stock. For some reason, she always found foraging calming. Perhaps it was because it was an activity that always seemed to take her thoughts off the tumultuous events during 5th year.

She leaned down, collected some mushrooms with a few swipes of her pocket knife and placed them into her pouch. Yes, of course, she could have used her wand, but sometimes she felt the use of muggle tools was more therapeutic. It made her feel more connected to the plants that she was oh-so-carefully collecting.

She made her way deeper and deeper into the forest until she began to have the off-putting feeling that something or someone was following her. At this point, the heavy tree cover had completely blotted out the lights from Hogwarts. She cast her gaze around and when she failed to detect anyone she continued her trek until she stumbled upon a poacher camp.

Quickly disillusioning herself, she fel into a crouch behind a tree, studying the scene before her. There only looked to be 2 or 3 poachers at the camp, with a puffskin gently whining in a cage off to the left side. Y/N winced when a poacher approached it and kicked it.

“Oi, quit your yapping.” He yelled at the poor beast, who trembled under the gaze of his captor. Y/N decided then that they would be an easy target.

She moved a bit closer, before revealing herself. The first two barely stood a chance against her, as she quickly transfigured one into a barrel and sent him flying towards the other. The third one wasn’t so easy it turned out.

Out of nowhere, five more figures appeared. A couple more poachers… And a couple of Ashwinders. Y/N ducked, letting out a yelp as she barely avoided being sliced in half by a diffindo thrown her way.

Though Y/N had faced much worse than this (she had taken down Ranrok, after all), she knew this battle was going to be difficult. Her lack of sleep and stress over the double life she was once again living were eating at her in strange ways. She felt herself growing weaker, trying her best to conjure up her ancient magic. To her dismay, the power didn’t want to respond. She tried her best, managing to take down the other poachers with a clever combo. But when an incarerous managed to hit her, she went tumbling to the ground, hitting her head hard.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was a flash of messy brown hair, green robes, and warm brown eyes that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

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