#i was listening to 'would that i' but hozier when i was writing this

[toshidou]

do you fhink könig likes chubby people like ghost does,,

There is not a single doubt in my mind that König loves chubby people so much. He loves regardless of superficial things such as looks, but even then, he's always been so confused by the notion that fat isn't synonymous with beauty, because to him, there is nothing more gorgeous than a body that has clearly been loved and taken care of.

All König sees is his hot, beautiful, adorable, and sexy partner, and if he can pick you up and feel the way your body moulds to his touch, then that's just a bonus in his eyes. After all, he's not small himself, in any regards, and has been ridiculed in the past for his size. He understands the impact that words have, he can see for himself in the way you shrink under watchful eyes, clenched hands coming to wrap around your stomach. And in those moments, he doesn't hesitate to fix himself behind you, large hands encompassing yours from where they curl protectively over your body, and gently pries them away. His form would hunch over yours, lips hovering next to your reddening ears just to whisper,

"Du bist schön, liebling, everyone here knows it, but only I am lucky enough to call you mine."

König will spend every minute of everyday reminding you that you're nothing short of ethereal, will do anything in his power to be your companion on a long road to self-love, a trail he himself stumbles on every day. But you're always right there with him, your soft whispers of gentle support and crooned compliments act as his guiding light in the pitch black, so you can bet he'll make sure he's your lifeline too, an unwavering pillar of reassurance and love.

Make no mistake, you are the love of König's life. There is not a thing he wouldn't do for you. Not a raging storm he would not sail through just to reach you. You are his be all and end all, and not an ounce or pound on a stupid fucking scale will ever, ever change that.

[astrobei]

it’s always wyd and never ngchmbdichth*

*no grave can hold my body down i’ll crawl home to her

[roseblushkestrel]

"I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."

[ghostaholics]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.

"Oh, yeah? What about?"

"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.

“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”

You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”

“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”

“I would.” More than he knows.

It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.

Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.

You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.

The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.

You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.

He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.

You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.

The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.

And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.

He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.

Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”

His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”

You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.

(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)

And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.

Of course, you take your job very seriously.

You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.

“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”

“The verdict, then?”

“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”

Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.

You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.

“You gonna treat me or what?”

Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.

The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.

Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.

“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”

But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”

You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.

You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?

But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.

“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.

He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.

After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.

Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.

And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.

“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.

Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Sub!Choso♡

MDNI

pairing: Choso x gn!Reader Content: no use of y/n or pronouns, beginning is some reassurance to Choso, no intercourse, sub!Choso, softdom!reader, light teasing, guided masturbation, overstimulation, praising, use of sweet boy, good boy, and hon, reach around hand job in the mirror, multiple orgasms; all just Choso..... Word count: 3.7k (a.n) ...... is this a safe place to post this? I started writing this thinking it was gonna be short- I was wrong. I got a lil carried away. Wrote this while listening to 'Take Me to Church- Hozier'

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Dating Choso came easy. He was nice, he was strong, caring. You always saw the tough side of him. He never had anything to complain about when it came to your relationship.

Always ready to hear your opinions and thoughts. And when you'd ask him what he think when it came to certain things he'd always reply with, “If it makes you happy, I'm happy.” never wanting to say something that might hurt you.

Always so eager to shut down your harsh words towards yourself whenever a certain shirt didn't fit the way you wanted to. And you’d compliment him, saying things like how handsome he was, how good he looked, or when he'd help you carry the cases of water, never hesitating to kiss his bicep and tell him how strong he was.

And everytime he would return a shy, “Thank you.” turning away from you, knowing how red his cheeks got anytime you'd praise him. So when he asked you;

“Do you like me?” One tired night after coming home from work, it took you by surprise. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in the corner of your shared bedroom.

“Do you like me? Like that?” he asked, hands between his knees. His eyes on your face in the shape of saucers, sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Of course I do.” you replied, not fully understanding why he was asking that. “Have I not shown you that I do?” You asked, concerned that maybe you had failed him in that aspect.

Turning around to look at him, seeing him look down. “No- I just.” he puffed, trying to find the words to tell you how he feels. “I don't see why you'd want to be with me.” He let out, almost a whisper.

“Choso.” You sighed, seeing him tilt his head slightly up. Taking a step closer to him, reaching for the sides of his face.

“If im with you- it's because you are you.” You smiled, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

He looked up to your gaze, “But-” he started, “No buts. What are you doubting?” You asked, soft tone in your voice as he closed his eyes.

“I just don't see why you'd want to be with me- I can't talk about my feelings- I cry too much.” He started, seeing tears form in his waterline. His hands hugged around your waist as he tried not to cry.

“I see the way people look at you- and it makes me feel like maybe I'm not enough.” He whispered, hot tears staining the shirt you were wearing as he pressed the side of his face to your sternum. Your hands caressing the sides of his face as he lets out quite whimpers into your shirt. 

Pulling him from you, looking down at his flustered face and wet cheeks. “You're more than enough Choso.” You wiped tears from his cheek, “I know feelings are so hard to talk about, and your crying just shows me just how sensitive you are.” You assured, seeing him not find any reassurance in your words.

“But-” He started again. Nodding your head no as he stopped speaking.

“What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?” You asked, smiling as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. His hand holding your wrist, pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. Half lidded eyes locked on his as he parted his lips, almost as though he was trying to think on what would assure him.

Pressing another kiss to his lips before letting out a ‘Hmm?’ seeing him gulp his embarrassment. “What do you like…about me?” he asked, his ears now warm against your fingers.

Choso was never the type to fish for compliments, he never asked you to praise him whenever he did something for you.

But he wanted to hear it, he just never had the guts to ask. 

The corner of your mouth curling into a smile at his brazen question, “I love your eyebrows.” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss to one of his eyebrows, “I love your eyes-” his eyes fluttering shut, pressing a kiss to one of them.

“And your nose.” You hummed, pressing a delicate kiss to the center of the black stripe that adorned his face. “Your cheeks-” He closed his eyes as he felt you pepper his face with gentle kisses.

The pink on his cheeks turned redder as he felt you kiss the shell of his ear, “And your earrings.” you smiled, his hands on your hips.

Feeling you straddle his thighs, lowering your lips to his jaw. “And your jawline.” you smiled, feeling him shift under you.

Trailing kisses on the edge of his jaw. Placing a kiss to his chin, “And your lips.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his plush lips.

Your hands on the sides of his face, looking deep into his eyes. “I love every part of you.” You smiled, feeling his hands roam up your back. Pulling you close to hug him, your chin on his shoulder as he held you tightly.

“I love when you make me laugh-” you whispered, “How caring you are-” his grip on your back pressing firmer.

“When you do things for me without me asking you to.” You continued, you hand rubbing circles on his back.

The other trailing to his bicep, “And how strong you are.” You smiled, feeling goosebumps form as you trailed the tips of your fingers on his thick bicep. Tracing your hand down his arm, moving it so you could intertwine your fingers with his.

Pulling away from his hug and looking into his eyes. “And your big hands.” You hummed, feeling his thick fingers against your smaller ones. The tears in his eyes now gone as his bottom lip trembled.

Closing the few centimeters that separated your lips, Choso hesitatingly deepening the kiss. Feeling his lips suck on your bottom one. The hand on your back is going to hold the side of your face. Pulling away from you with nothing but hearts in his eyes.

“I love you so much Choso.” You whispered, seeing him hold back a smile- almost too shy to smile. 

Eyebrows furrowing together when you felt something poke your thigh. His face of embarrassment showed you what he felt, not even looking down to see what poked you.

“I’m sorry-” He started, apologizing before you even said anything. “I just- felt so happy hearing your words-” he babbled, wanting so badly to tease him. But you knew now wasn't the time for that.

Taking one of your hands and brushing the hair from his face. “Don't be sorry-” you hummed, looking into his face that was full of shame. Smiling as he tried to avoid your gaze.

“No- I am. You're just trying to be nice and I ruined it-” he mumbled, looking down. Trying to look away from the embarrassment. Seeing an opportunity to show him just how much you liked him. Mumbling a quiet;

“It’s okay.” before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and taking your hand and trailing it to his clothed chest. Then down his torso as his breath hitched.

Your hand resting to the side of his hip, knowing he didn't wear any underwear whenever he'd be in his pajamas. Your hand cuffing around his clothed cock, earning a soft gasp from his lips.

Dragging your hand to where you knew his tip was, your fingertips grazing it delicately as he closed his eyes. Trying his best not to whine at the feeling. Smiling when you saw him try his hardest not to get too loud from such simple touches.

His cheeks flushed and such whiny sounds falling from his lips made something deep inside of you itch. Taking the hand that was on his cheek, placing the tips of your fingers to his lips.

Choso’s eyes opened to look at you, such deep devotion in his gaze when he looked at you. Kissing at the tips of your fingers before widening his mouth to welcome them. 

The hand on his clothed cock felt a small wet spot at the tip. Making you smile as he sucked at your fingers, hoping they'd be enough to quiet his moans. They weren't, his groans vibrated against your fingers causing a chill to run down your spine.

The mere sight of him making your own arousal pool in your stomach. Feeling his hips buck beneath you, you smiled. A certain image you've had in mind popping into your head when you saw the face he made before he was going to cum.

Stopping your movements as he looked into your eyes, almost asking you why you’d deny him this. Pulling your now wet fingers from his lips, seeing his face of confusion.

You raised yourself from his thighs, his face full of betrayal as you looked behind you. Pulling the small ottoman in the bedroom in front of him. Sitting down and looking at him, eye to eye but much further away than he wanted.

Smile on your lips as you saw his face churn with shyness. Feeling your gaze on the obvious wet spot on his gray sweats. Thinking he had never felt this hard in his life. “If I wasn't here; show me how you’d take care of it.” You hummed, seeing him look at you. Eyebrows furrowed showing you how unsure he was.

“Take care of…it?” he whispered, his hands going to cover the obvious wet bulge in his sweats. Your eyes looked down to his hands, you mumbled a small ‘Mhm’ as his lips cracked open to say something but not finding the words.

His eyes widening at the realization of what you were asking of him. Goosebumps forming on his back. Seeing you rest your elbow on your knee, propping your head in your hand while you waited. He stood up, taking his shirt off quickly- not wanting it to get ruined. His chest almost heaving from how flustered he felt.

Tossing it to the side and sliding his sweats down to his knees, his eyes avoiding your gaze as his throbbing cock flung out of his soiled sweats. Seeing a smile form on your lips when he sat back down on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows pinched together when he saw how lovingly you watched him.

“So pretty Cho.” You hummed, making his heart clench. Looking down to his leaking cock, and back to you. “Go on.” You smiled, the look on your face as though what you were asking of him was some innocent act.

Gulping as he took his hand, grasping the middle of his pale shaft. Inhaling sharply as he slid it up to his tip slowly. Choso had done this many times, never feeling shame or embarrassment for doing what seemed to be something normal.

But not once did he ever do it infront of you, the feeling of being so exposed while you watched him. Fully dressed and praising him. You've said it to him before, but you always liked the way his face churned when you'd tell him, “So big.” you'd purr, his eyes squinting shut at hearing your words.

His hand took a snail pace, stroking up and down slowly as he looked to his cock and back to you to see if you saw what you were hoping for. His sweats falling from his knees down to his ankles as he let out soft whines. His thumb caught the very tip of his cock as he looked to your approving gaze.

“Does it feel good?” you hummed, hearing him let out a choked moan, he let out a soft ‘Mhm’ as he stroked himself. “Use your words.” You demanded, his face showing you how reactive he was to your tone.

“It-” He whined, trying to get the words out. “It does-” he managed, eyes flickering back to you.

“Always so cute when you're like this Cho.” You smiled, seeing his hand speed up the tiniest bit at your words, seeing his free hand hold onto the edge of the bed while trying not to cum too soon.

“Are you gonna cum?” Your tone came out more teasingly than you meant for it to, seeing him nod his head no, going back to the slow pace he kept before.

“It's okay. You can cum.” you hummed, seeing him look to you with pained eyes as his hand sped up. All but asking for your permission. Gasping at the feeling of his fist brushing against his crying tip.

Chin in your hand watching his fist come down his shaft, making him throw his head back and let out a groan. Stroking his cock through his orgasm, only making himself more messy. Whining as he came down from his orgasm, looking back to you to see if you found what you were looking for. 

“Again.” You smiled, loving look on your face when you looked at his fucked out one. Wincing when he heard your words, almost like you didn't have any issues about demanding another one.

His hard cock twitched as his hand connected again, stroking slowly at his shaft, making sure to not touch his tip too much. Knowing how sensitive it still was, soft whines left his lips once more as he saw you furrow your eyebrows at his movements.

“If you're not gonna do it right, don't do it at all. Choso.” tone now deprived of all sweetness. Now sounding more upset.

“M’sorry-” he whined, stroking past his tip. Bucking his hips into his hand, choked whines falling from him. Soft sighs from him when he saw your eyebrows unfurrow.

Looking at him again with a smile. “There you go,” You cooed, “Good boy.” you continued, earning small whines from him at your words. Looking at you with a shamed face before asking;

“Can I-” Seeing you lift your head from your hands and rest your palms above your thighs.

“Can you what?” you teased, seeing his hand move sloppily as he heard your tone. He moaned, babbles of ‘pleasepleaseplease’ as his hand tried to keep the pace he set for himself.

“Please what Choso?” you hummed, seeing him almost cum without permission.

“Can I cum- please.” He managed through various whines, blushing so intensely that it roamed down his neck, onto his chest.

“Go ahead, hon.” You smiled, seeing his face churn as he chased the fleeting orgasm at his own hand. Unable to keep his fist tight enough to make him cum from how fucked out he already was. Barely managing to come once his eyes met your gaze.

Standing up from the ottoman as he came down from his second orgasm. Pressing a delicate kiss onto his forehead as he stroked himself slowly.

“You're so pretty like this Cho.” You cooed, holding his head in your hands as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Seeing his eyebrows pinch together at your praises. Placing a kiss to his lips, eyes half lidded before pulling away.

“You did so good.” Pushing away the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Opening his mouth to speak- hesitating as he looked into your eyes.

“Touch me. Please.” He whined, feeling your hands on the sides of his face and his cock hardening once more. Pulling away from him before slipping off your shirt- knowing just how messy he gets. Kneeling before him, hands on his bare thighs as he squirmed at the feeling.

“I always liked how sensitive you were, Cho.” You started, taking the tip of your finger and tracing it on his darkening head. Seeing his thighs tremble against the feeling.

“How pretty you look when you ask me to help you.” You continued, slowly trailing the tip of your index finger down his shaft, hearing how he became breathless at the simple feeling. Taking your finger and gathering the mess he made at the base of his shaft, looking up to his eyes and licking it from your finger.

Smile on your face from the flavor hitting your tongue, seeing him try his hardest not to whine at your words. “And how sweet you've always been.” You smiled, leaning against his thigh. Seeing his mouth want to say something, lip quivering at trying to get the words out.

“Pl-” he started, a gasp leaving his lips when he felt the tip of your finger circle around the opening of his tip. Hearing you let out a teasing, ‘Hmm?’ As his hands gripped the edges of the bed. “Please-” He whined, seeing only the tip of your finger dance around his angry head.

“Please what?” You asked, seeing his tip let out a fat tear.

“Touch me-” He started, soft gasps leaving his lips at how sensitive his tip was.

“I am touching you, aren't i?” You smiled, hearing his groans become more and more frustrated. Looking up to see his face, a twinge of regret in your heart when you saw teary eyes looking back to you. 

“Okay, okay.” You smiled, raising yourself slightly so you'd be closer to his face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his opened mouth.

Looking into his eyes when you wrapped your hand around his base, gasping at the sudden feeling. Pressing a kiss onto his lips as he exhaled in relief, resting on the back of your calves as you slowly started stroking him.

Rolling the palm of your hand onto his tip as he squirmed beneath you, looking up to see his head thrown back, choked whines leaving his throat as you continued. Your free hand going to his balls, caressing them gently as he moaned more pleads.

Sadistic grin on your lips as you looked at the messy sight before you. “You gonna cum for me, Choso?” You smiled, seeing him flip his face back down to you.

Muttering a gasping ‘yes’ as your hand sped up. Seeing his cock leak out small pumps of milky white cum onto your hands. “You wanna make me happy?” you smiled sweetly, knowing that all you needed to do was ask him that one question and he'd be putty in your hands.

Nodding his head yes, not being able to speak from the whines leaving his mouth. You pulled away, making him let out a groan.

“You look so pretty- you have to see yourself.” You smiled, crawling onto the bed, hearing how hard he was breathing. Bare chest against his back as he whined. Feeling your hands snake beneath his arms, touching his ribs and grazing his chest.

“Look-” you whispered into his ear, being able to feel the shiver that ran down his spine. Seeing him lift his head to look into the mirror in front of him.

“Look how beautiful you look like this.” You whispered, lips brushing against his ear as your hand trailed down his torso. Fingers slowly tracing the ridges of his abs, hearing him exhale at your words. “You look even prettier when you cum.” you grinned against him, making him let out a soft whine at your dirty whispers.

“I'll show you-” you grinned, almost too eager as your hand trailed from his abdomen down his happy trail. Already feeling him writhe against your touch.

Seeing his gaze fall from his own body to your face peeking behind his shoulder. Feeling you slowly push the tip of his cock through your fist. Making him shift his hips, your other hand going to hold onto his thick bicep. Slowly stroking his cock as he felt another orgasm pool into his stomach.

“I’m gonna cum-” he whined, feeling that the sight of himself in the mirror and your sweet voice in his ear was too much.

“Already? I've barely touched you~” You teased, pressing your thumb onto the bottom of his tip. Sliding it up and down as you waited for him to answer, not stroking him just to see what he'd say.

“I’m sorry-” he whined, making you let out a small laugh.

“My sweet boy. Always so polite.” You smiled against his ear, making him buck his hips up your hand to get some stimulation. Seeing his eyes squeezed shut through the mirror, “Open your eyes.” You demanded, seeing him open them and look into the mirror.

“Look at your arms-” you started, slowly stroking his cock as he tried his hardest to not close his eyes. Feeling your hand caress his bicep, fingers pressing down at the small vein forming. Moving the hand on his bicep to his side, keeping the slow pace as you stroked his cock.

“And your chest-” you hummed, sliding your hands past his hardened nipple, making him gasp at the feeling. “Look how pretty your cock is.” you giggled, seeing his eyes trail down his own reflection- exhaling when he saw your hand stroking him.

The feeling of your other hand rolling the bud of his pink nipple between your fingers made him almost cum on the spot.

Seeing his face churn in the mirror you whispered, “Are you gonna cum again?~” as he muttered various ‘yesyesyes’ feeling your hand polish the tip of his cock.

“Look at yourself Choso-” you smiled, seeing his eyes scan his body with low gasps. Whining when he felt your hand speed up, making him cum once more. Barely being able to keep his eyes open as you brushed your thumb across the tip.

“Look how pretty you look~” you gasped, feeling his cum fall between your fingers that grasped against his cock. Choso’s eyes falling onto his own face as he came down from his orgasm. His breathing slowed as he felt himself give you the last of what he had.

His cock softened in your hand as you felt aftershocks flow through his body. Kissing his shoulder before letting his cock go. 

Almost feeling him fall back onto you, before you laid back into the bed. Feeling him flip over and resting his head onto your sternum. Holding himself close to your skin as you rubbed circles onto his bare back.

Tired eyes looking up at you, “Thank you.” he whispered before leaning up to give you a soft kiss to your lips. Placing one of your hands onto the side of his face, your fingers trailing above his pierced ears, feeling him hum against your chest.

Trailing the hand on his back up to his hair, combing it away from his face as you felt him slowly becoming heavier- showing he was falling asleep. “I love you.” You hummed, earning a small grunt from him as he tried to stay awake. 

-

I wrote this cuz I personally find it to be one of the most attractive things I can think abt- and when looking for some like this abt Choso, I found very few which was UPSETTING!!!! its one of the few things that made me take 5 min breaks like every few sentences because i felt so flustered writing this. again I suck at writing aftercare. im SORRY. I needed to write something nasty- I felt like I was punishing myself or something. I needed to get this out of my head before I wrote pt 7 of obsessive!Choso!!! im getting to work dw

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: A handful of TWST characters that I headcanon have not had their first kiss yet and you kissing them for the first time.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: riddle and idia and azul are obvious but i feel like i need to explain jade and floyd. they're clearly emotionally detached from most people and probably scared off anyone that might remotely be interest in (even though if they can be scared off, the twins would probably find them boring anyway) so they haven't kissed anyone yet in my silly little head. thats all!!

i was listening to cherry wine by hozier while writing floyd's part so if its softer than usual that's why OOPS

the asexual in me loves writing about hesitant physical intimacy leave me alone :C

Riddle Rosehearts feels his hands shaking as you stare, eyes so calm and hopeful that makes his heart lurch. He doesn’t know how to give you what you want without curling in on himself and becoming flustered. It’s unbecoming of him to cower like this, but he can’t help it. your hand against his cheek, the other one resting on his shoulder, your faces so close together. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s supposed to just know.

“You don’t have to know,” you whisper, and you sound so certain that his heart flutters like a caged bird, “Every person is different. Everyone has a different feel to their kiss, and I’m glad I get to help you discover yours.”

He can’t breathe.

“Will you allow me?” you murmur, tilting your head the slightest bit and oh, he knows what's coming and he doesn’t want to stop it.

“Please.” he breathes, slamming his eyes shut, “Kiss me.”

Azul’s shaking hands find their way to your hips as if they were always meant to be there, pressed against your pants and brushing against the hem of your shirt. He sucks in a breath as your arms are draped around his neck, like a blanket of love coating him in warmth. His body does feel impossibly hot, and he wonders for a moment if you truly are magical.

His mouth feels dry so he wets his lips, and when your eyes flicker towards them at the movement he almost dies.

“Azul, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” you murmur, softly and with so much understanding. It’s frustrating, how Azul wants every part of you and you’re willing to wait for him. You’re too good for him.

“I want to.” he whispers, pleading in a way that only someone as powerful as him can, “I want to kiss you, so please—”

Azul talks too much. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is he. Maybe that’s why you shut him up and replaced his greedy pleas with the sound of soft kissing, but then again, Azul doesn’t need to know what other reasons you had for kissing him. The only reason he needs is your love.

Jade does not understand why it’s such a shock to you that he has yet to be kissed. You have seen him in his merform, you have fought him in his merform, and yet your brain cannot wrap around the concept that people find him terrifying. Really, you are an amusing one.

“The merpeople my age were scared of me, pearl.” he chuckles politely as you gape at him from across the Mostro Lounge table he seated you at hours before, “I had yet to be in a romantic relationship until you.”

“But you’re so handsome.” you huff, and it looks like you’re pouting, “Your peers have no taste.”

“Ah, or mayhaps your taste is an acquired one, my dear.” he smiles his closed-eyed smile, and revels in the amused snort his response elicits.

“We should kiss then.” you blurt, and Jade’s eyes fly open in surprise. You’re leaning across the table with shimmering eyes and a huge smile like you can’t wait to kiss him.

How peculiar.

“Do you want to be kissed?” he says, feigning surprise.

“By you? More than anything.” you say breathlessly, and Jade finds himself leaning into you to really take your breath away.

Floyd stares intently at your lips, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He looks like a predator about to pounce on its prey, and despite how cliche that comparison is for someone like him you can’t help but squirm.

“Floyd.” you say softly, and he snaps out of it when he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong?”

“Shrimpy. Wanna try something new.” he leans closer, his shadow falling over you as if to remind you how scary he can really be, “I want to kiss you.”

Oh.

“Well, that’s doable.” you feel your face grow warm at his insistence as your hands find their way to his lapels.

Floyd’s features soften as he leans into you, his bristling energy soothed by your hands on him, pulling him closer to give him what he wants. Your mouths connect and for a moment you find yourself wincing as his teeth bump against yours, but he pulls back just the slightest bit and presses into your mouth with his mouth, and you lean back and back and back until the only support you have is his arm holding you close.

“Love you Shrimpy.” he grins as he stops kissing you, giggling against your lips. His breath is warm and you feel like a sweet ice cream cone in summer with the way you melt against him.

“Again.” you huff quietly, and Floyd is all too happy to oblige.

Idia was not expecting to be thrown into a super hard boss level right off the bat. Seriously, what is this? Why did you always have to play with such gimmick stats that made no sense and never follow any specific trope?! It wasn’t good for his heart!

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to kiss him, it was just so hard not to think about everything that could go wrong. Like what if he bit you by accident? What if he yawned or sneezed in your mouth? What was the last thing he ate? Where did he put his hands and how is he supposed to move his lips?!

“Idia, it’s okay. We can wait a little while longer. This isn’t something you can rush.” you rub your thumb over his cheek, always so gentle and tender and sweet and everything he never thought he would find.

“No, I want to. I just...don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, ducking his head in his hoodie as the tips of his hair flare pink and red.

“Sorry!” you turn away and let him breathe, trying so desperately to calm down.

“Just...can it be a quick one?” he asks shyly, tentatively, and he hears you hum in satisfaction because he’s communicating and he knows you like it when he tells you what he wants.

“It can be anything you want.” you answer softly, and Idia slams his eyes shut and leans into you.

How you manage to make such normie things seem so nice is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of your lips gliding across his like they were never meant to do anything but kiss him.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. ( HOTD x READER ) [ Pt. 2 ]

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Niece! Targ! ( Strong ) Reader suggest song to listen to whilst reading: Like Real People Do by Hozier or Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives prompt : would you make a part 2 for "like real people do" where after the fight reader gets really depressed and gives up trying to talk to him so he finally realizes his mistakes and tries to be a better person for her. she's still weary of him so doesn't really speak to him outside of formalities which frustrates him. but during that period aemond tries to make a move on her but he's a really good friend and makes her feel wanted and loved so when aegon watches them dance during a feast he kinda snaps and they finally argue talk their feelings out with them making up by the end and maybe if smut if you want to write it??? thank you! word count: 1, 000+ words

You listened to him a little too well, like a loyal pup listening to its Master. You avoided him like he was the Stranger himself. Your once soft glances. The subtle smiles whenever you looked at him. The way your fingers would brush against his. The way you would tend to him. The way you would set out his clothes after a night out in Flea Bottom. 

Everything that you had done for him. It was all over and done. He had ruined it all with his pathetic temper tantrum. He regretted it. He fucking regretted it all as days turned into a fortnight. A fortnight was dragging into a full moon. And he was starting to crave having you around once again. He craved you more than he craved wine. You were now a ghost in his life. Passing by, unseen and unheard. 

He was sure that soon enough you would come back to him. You'd snap out of this little daze. You'd come back to him. You'd coddle him, just like you used to. Everything, everything, everything would be alright. You'd be back and this would be nothing more than a small fight in the past.

Watching you and Aemond dance together, Aemond was so gentle with you, his hands and gaze never strayed into another inappropriate. Aemond was a true gentleman, he would never dare to dishonor you. He always treated you with such respect and kindness. Brushing it off as nothing more than a cordial dance between a brother and sister-in-law, Aegon takes a sip of his wine, turning his back to the two of you. 

Hearing soft laughter come from behind him, he snaps his head back towards you too in an instant, eyes sharp. He did not care. In the weeks of your avoidance, he was fine! He was fucking fine! But, why the fuck did you look so happy with him? You looked happy with Aemond, of all people. You looked really happy with Aemond. Happier than he had ever made you in the years of your marriage together. 

“They look happy together.” Helaena smiles, “Do they not, Aegon?”

“They do.” He grumbles, scowling deeply. 

“I am happy to see her so happy once again.” Helaena nods mindlessly, “She was so upset before.”

“She was?” He raises a brow. 

“Yes, she was. Aemond though, he was very kind to her. They spoke a lot. She has been smiling since she had spoken to him. Tis’ good.” Helaena smiles, unaware of her words.

Narrowing his eyes at the sight of you and Aemond dancing, he shifts in his seat, tightening his grip on his chalice. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t fuckign upset in the slightest. Why the fuck would anyone get upset at such news like this? He wasn’t. He wasn’t. 

“What of?” He asks, masking his displeasure. 

“Dragon’s.” Helaena smiles, “Other things. But, most of dragon’s.”

“Dragon’s?” 

“Mm-hmm, she has always had an interest in dragon’s. Specifically Vhagar.” Helaena shakes her head, “She thinks that Dragons and their riders can share memories of Old should their bond be so tightly intertwined.” 

“Well that’s stupid.”

“I do not think so. If dragon dreams are true, tis’ no surprise if such a thought could be true.” Helaena argues, “If you spoke to her, you would know of this.”

Clenching his jaw tightly at Helaena’s subtle jab, he trails his eyes back onto you, seeing just how happy you looked with Aemond. His heart clenched tightly. It should be him in Aemond’s place. He should be the one getting you so happy and comfortable. He should be the one listening to the stupid thoughts. Not Aemond. Chugging all of the wine in his chalice, he slams the chalice down hard on the table, standing up from his seat. 

No. Nope. Not a chance. Not a fucking chance. Aemond would not take his place. He could not, no he would not be replaced by his younger brother. You were his wife. You were supposed to be his little pest. You were supposed to be his. Running a hand through his hair, he stalks towards the two of you, keeping a calm facade for your sake. He would win you back. If he could seduce whores in Flea Bottom, he could seduce you back. 

“If you do not mind, I would like to have my wife back, dear brother.” He cuts in, his voice smooth with a hint of iciness.

“Oh..” You murmur, the smile on your face dying in an instant. 

“If the Lady wishes, then I shall end our dance.” Aemond glares at him, “After all, she may be tired of dancing.”

“She is my wife.”

“Yes, she is. But, we’ve been dancing for so long.” Aemond argues, “Mayhaps, you should ask her if she wishes to keep dancing or if she would like some wine.”

Seeing the subtle glare his brother gave him, he puffs his chest up in defense, attempting to intimidate him. He was the King and your husband. He had every right to be around you and ask you for a dance. Narrowing his eyes hard at him, Aemond motions to you with his eye, trying to make him understand. What the fuck was he trying to say? Clenching his jaw in confusion, it suddenly clicks in his head what Aemond was suggesting. A way for him to speak to you. Aemond was not attempting to steal you

“Um, Y/n, would you like to dance with me?” 

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You softly shake your head, “I have had my fill of dancing.”

“Then, may I suggest you join me at our table for some wine and fresh air?” He offers again, attempting to find some middle ground with you. 

As tempted as he was to sling you over his shoulder, he knew that it would only worsen the distance between the two of you, and maybe earn him a hard punch to the nose from Aemond. He had to be smart. He had to be the complete and utter opposite of himself. Looking at you a little hopeful, he holds his hand out for you to take, praying that you would at least grant him that. 

“I thought you wished for me to leave you be?” You murmur, “Twas’ hard to not understand that when you were shouting at me.”

“Mayhaps, I was wrong.” He gulps, suddenly feeling nervous. 

“But, you said to me⎯” 

“I want to be alone, but alone with you.” He stutters, “Um, that is if you will allow it to me.”

Cowering slightly as you stare him down, he retracts his hand, now aware of Aemond’s lack of presence. It was just you and him. Though, it was not a comforting thought. Clasping his hands behind his back, he slowly looks you over, eyes trailing down your gown.

It was purple with pearls sewing into the skirt. You always wore green to match with him. His gut churns painful, now aware of just how much distance had brewed in the weeks apart. You used to be so intertwined with him. 

“I do not wish to be around you any longer. Tis’ clear my presence is a bother.” You argue, staring him down like he was your prey. 

“No, I do not wish for that any longer.” He mumbles, like a petulant child.

“You do not?” 

“I do not. I wish for us to act like real people do. To not be like how we once were.” He explains, “I wish to change. For there to be no distance.”

“Bold words do not move me, Aegon. Tis’ actions that do.”

Nodding his head in agreement at your words, he knew that he had royal fucked up. Hell, even his own dragon refused to look at him for what he had done, siding with your dragon. He had to earn your respect. But, he was willing to do it. Swallowing his pride, he looks at you shamefully, seeing the hate within your eyes.

You now looked at him with the same hate that everyone else in the Realm did. It was not as pleasing or comforting as he had wanted or though it would be. It felt shameful. It felt heartbreaking. You were supposed to look at him with love, not hatred.

“I..”

“You what, Aegon?” You snap back, annoyed.

“I…Tell me what you wish for me to say and do. Tell me what man you wish for me to be, and I shall be him for you.” He pleads, using the same words you had said to him weeks ago.

----

[callooopie]

NSWF MODERN CREGAN HEADCANNONS PLZZZZZ💋💋💋

Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. Smut)

Be like the love that discovered the sin — Be // Hozier

found time to finish this!! I had to take breaks and fan myself when writing this… but that’s what I do for all my writings oops I’m a silly lady who gets flustered too easily >~>

< currently unedited >

aw man guys… Cregan loves shower sex. ‘Cause to him? He’s strong enough to lift you up and press you against the shower wall, and very easy cleanup. At this angle with you held against the wall, Cregan can also watch as he drags his thick cock in and out of your hole. His hands? A firm grip on your ass, arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs as he holds you up. He’ll make you wash his hair in this position, wanting to see your hands shake or tremble as you reach up to lather his hair with shampoo. He was just outside all day, he doesn’t wanna be too dirty touching you.

Cabin is secluded enough to where you two could essentially do anything, inside and outside. Although in my professional opinion, summer mosquitos in Alaska? Hell on Earth. However, a bit of tent action now and then didn’t hurt (the bug bites sure did tho ouchh). It’s just nice being out there with you, a warm campfire going, your warm walls clenching around him as he pounds into you from behind. And you can be as loud as you want too.

I find it hard to think of specifics for Cregan here. Is lazy sex a term for it? You’re not fucking, and it could technically be classified as lovemaking. But really, you’re just talking about your day as you ride him while he sits in one of the chairs on the back porch. A beer in hand of course, his eyes never leaving yours as he listens intently. He has his other hand on your hip, not guiding you, only to hold. Being so comfortable with each other that you can have full on conversations even as you’re bouncing on his cock. There’s no rush to it and you’re both content with stopping, pausing, continuing. At the end of the day, Cregan just wants your skin against his in any way possible. It’s a peaceful feeling, having you and the sounds of nature. And then one or both of you will start to grow impatient, conversation running dry as you focus on chasing your impending orgasm.

Breakfast in bed, giving or receiving. Or both—Cregan would not mind you choking on his dick while he eats you out. But if he wants to wake you up something special like; he’ll be the one to get up first, make you an actual breakfast or just coffee. A refreshment for after. You’re still fast asleep, and the sun’s barely funneling through the early morning clouds. But Cregan will be awake, hovering over you, making sure not to let the blankets slip off of you as he inches himself lower and lower. A kiss pressed to your heart, and then your stomach, another kiss against your womb. And then finally a faint kiss pressed to your clit, followed by many more and a tongue that swirls around the sensitive bud. Tiny kitten licks to start out that are soon followed by long drags of his tongue up between the folds of your cunt. His arms are supposed to be gently wrapped around your thighs, however they lose their gentleness when Cregan starts to lose himself in the taste of your wetness.

If he’s on the receiving end though? Be prepared for his hand to latch onto your hair suddenly. Cregan’s a light sleeper. I feel like he’d have to be if he’s got a type of farm going, ready to respond to any threat or disaster at the drop of a hat—early morning or dead of night. So it doesn’t take long for him to be roused from sleep at the feeling of your tongue running up and down his length. He’s a little lost for a moment, only when he’s coming out of sleep. A tired and grumbled moan coming from him. But when he realizes what’s happening; his hand will grab your hair and force you down onto his cock, loving how your lips feel around him. He’s thick, he’s big, you can barely fit half of him into your mouth. More fun for him, watching you as you struggle and gag around him.

He’ll be more mean about receiving head. When you gag, he’ll make it his “secret” mission to thrust more into your throat. On accident he’ll say. Do not believe such falsities. His large hand will grab your hair, gripping onto your head almost as he shoves your head down. On accident! His hand slipped and got the better of him.

But what he does onto you, can be done onto him. He’s got such nice long hair, yank on it as he eats you out. It’s also nice how you keep his hair out of his way, nothing to interrupt or bother him as he tries to bury his tongue inside of you. Messy eater, so it’s even more important to keep his hair out of his food. He will spread your legs, actively pushing them apart or holding them in a way they can’t budge an inch. Even a twitch in your legs makes him wrap his arms around your thighs tighter.

Top. Even on bottom Cregan’s a top. He’s not a dominant top though. He’ll be nice. He’ll praise and compliment you as you ride him. He is bigger than you, he hopes you can handle him some more. You’re doing well as it is too, despite your complaints of your legs burning and your pace slowing; he’s very, very proud. He’ll get impatient maybe, a firm hand smacking your ass, his tone slightly more stern as he tells you “to get a move on” he’s gotta be up early, and you’re stalling just ‘cause your legs are tired? Fine, he’ll take over for a bit.

[nevergonnaloveagain-hey]

Hozier Dating Headcannons

He would definitely love to date someone who is more of an old soul, someone who loves older literature or music 

Expect regular serenades after he writes songs about you and personal concerts when you ask to hear a certain song. These moments would probably be very intimate and would just happen in the comfort of your home together.

You would be the first to hear any new ideas he has for his music and would read you his lyrics, asking you what you think he should change. And of course, you can’t think of anything that could make it any better since it is already so beautiful which infuriates him to no end (he loves you tho)

He seems like the kind of partner to go all out for anniversaries or birthdays and would set up really special dates and surprise outings, always making sure that you are comfortable and having fun. He would probably take you to secluded places surrounded by nature where you can just enjoy each other's company with no one else around.

He would hand write you beautiful letters especially when he is going away on tour or if he is going to be having a late night in the studio and won’t see you for a while

He values his privacy and would most likely keep your relationship lowkey and private. He wouldn’t hide you and wouldn’t hesitate to talk about you a little every now and then but he also wouldn’t tell everyone too much about your relationship, he likes to keep certain things to himself.

He would support you in everything that you do, whether it’s just a project that you have taken up or if it is something for work, he would be right behind you at all times cheering you on. If you start to doubt yourself, he would be the one to tell you how well you are doing and would motivate you 

He has a lot of appreciation for you especially since he knows it can be difficult to be with him when he is really focused on his music or if he is touring. So he would always express how thankful he is that you are there for him, even during tough times.

Considering his love for art and literature, he would love to take you on little museum or gallery dates and would definitely tell you the backstory of certain pieces if you seemed interested. He would also take note of the kind of books, poems or art you like and would give you unique gifts inspired by this.

Despite his fame, he is very grounded and values his private time and time with family, so he would love a partner who listens and values your opinions and alone time together. He would love to see you with his family and is in love with how much his parents and friends adore you.

If you’re not Irish, he would love to introduce you to certain foods or traditions from Ireland. He is always really excited to see your reaction to trying Irish snacks/drinks and remembers what you like or dislike

He is a big ‘I remember you said you like this, so i got it for you’ partner. He remembers everything about you, from your favourite food to your favourite songs or movies and even your favourite piece of jewelry

He is a very emotional guy and at first he struggles to open up to you but as your relationship grows, he becomes more comfortable being himself around you and knows you would never judge him just like how he would never judge you. Once he becomes fully comfortable with you, there is not one thing he wouldn't tell you and never hides anything from you. He trusts you with everything.

As I said he is a very private guy, so he wouldn’t be a big fan of PDA but as your relationship goes on, he will start to be more open about it and will show you off whenever he can. He loves hand holding and will periodically kiss your temple and or the back of your hand when you are out

Part 2!!

[gomu-fer]

Too sweet (for me)

Law x strawhat!reader

gn reader + fluff drabble

100% inspired by Too Sweet by Hozier the moment he dropped this I knew I had to write something about Law from it so here you go, I even incorporated some of the lyrics

Masterlist

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it

How were you able to slip into his mind so carelessly and without notice? Law had never envisioned himself liking someone as sweet as you

For starters you were a strawhat, already on the wrong track, but alongside Robin, you were of the ones Law tolerated the most since you were usually more introverted and took things seriously, which made him start gravitate towards you

Big mistake

Surprisingly he found out your quiet facade was something reserved for strangers, once you warmed up to his presence everything changed

You looked after him, bringing his black coffee when he stayed up all night in the library, urging him to sleep at normal hours and enjoy his time at the Sunny. You opened yourself completely for him to devour all details facts and antics of yours. Your presence filled every room he sat at, listened to whatever he had on his mind, or stayed in a blissful silence if he needed you to

Law had taken notice you were strong, smart, brave and confident, becoming an important asset on Luffy’s crew, another reason he saw you as one of the most competent strawhats. Even though a lot of people feared you, you remained kind, bright as the morning, soft as the rain, sweet as a grape

You had become Laws favorite sweetener, he became addicted to every inch of you. He’d drink up every look you’d graced his way like neat whiskey, every word like his favorite melody and every touch he wished it to tattoo it on his skin, always waiting for your frame to appear through every door he encountered

Something he did not expect, was how you were trying to change him for the better, almost like whispering alongside the wind for him to ‘live right’. To take down his tall walls, to speak up about the matters that roamed in his mind and heart, to stop indulging in bad sleeping habits and overworking himself to exhaustion, a task no one seemed to fill in his life, he was a Captain after all

You were softening him up, he didn’t like it when he noticed, first you wormed yourself into his heart now this? But how could he deny you?

There was no shame in being soft, sweet and tender, you always seemed to try and tell him

Yet he wondered how had you managed to keep yourself like that, brightening his and your crews days, after all, life has had its way with you too

And he couldn’t handle it

Who would’ve thought, the surgeon of death, threatened by a silly feeling

It ate away at him, the way his heartbeat accelerated whenever you were at least in the same table, his stomach turning at every look he stole whenever you smiled or laughed, or the rosy pigment that painted his features at the mere thought of you

He felt like a deer in headlights. Still Law couldn’t help but to follow you around the Sunny like a stray cat, reaching for you in any situation he was able to keep you closer, craved your presence and to hear your melodic voice ring in his ears, and whenever you said his name? Heaven couldn’t compare

He wondered how fast had this happened, he didn’t notice all the affection he was harboring for you until he couldn’t backtrack, he thanked whatever god was out there that made you so oblivious, it seemed like everyone on the ship noticed the way Law and you glanced at each other and how you would spend your days sitting together in every room but you

But here he is now, under the moonlight staring down at your twinkling eyes that could easily be mistaken for one of the stars above you, his hand traveling to the back of your head before he gives you a look as if asking ‘may I?’ to wish you answer by doing the sweetest thing he could ever thought of

You smile and stand on your tip toes collapsing your lips in his, ending his endless pining as you melt into each other like you were meant to be like this

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it, when he tastes the sweet sugar of the chocolate drink you had that evening on his lips and doesn’t mind it at all, even if he takes his coffee black every morning

He could even say, he loves it

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I’ve been listening to Hozier since his debut album I even saw him live and got a shrike tattooed on mu arm OF COURSE I was gonna write this and the first thing that popped into my mind was Law so here you go. Sorry it’s short uni has been eating me alive

[landojpg04]

I should not be writing this as I have finals and a huge project due by Sunday, but on my fyp all I've been listening and seeing is the new Hozier song that is supposed to come out next Friday. The one where he sings You're too sweet for me, and I cannot stop picturing Simon saying that throughout the discourse of your relationship.

When you both first meet, you notice that when this man drinks his coffee, it’s black. No sugar, sweetener, not even creamer. It's just a pure bitter liquid that he sips through a debrief in the morning. Meanwhile, you loved sweeteners, oat milk, almond milk, sweet cream foams, and anything that would rid the bitterness. 

“Your coffee is basically sugar.” You heard him grumble as you added more cream to your cup. You smiled and offered him the creamer in your hand.

“Won't kill you to try some; it’ll may make the bitterness go away.” You said.

“I like my coffee black.” He says before walking away.

The next night out, you were running late. You finally made it to the restaurant/bar. The team had already ordered some drinks, but behind you was Simon.

“Wanna order together.” You say, and he just nods, leading the way to the bar.

You catch the attention of the bartender.

“Can I get a cosmo.” You said; he nodded his head and looked at Simon for his.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You looked at Simon with a puzzling look. He raised his eyebrows as you stared at him.

“Your drink of choice is warm whiskey?” You asked.

“It’s better than a juice with alcohol.”

You just laughed at his remark towards you.

“Simon, you just aren’t a fan of sweet things.” You said as the bartender handed you your drinks.

“Not in the aspects you think.” He says before leading you back to the table.

Johnny knew of the crush Simon never dared to let on towards you. He would always push the lieutenant to at least try and make a move or even hold a conversation longer than 5 minutes with you. 

It's not until they are both smoking a cigar and enjoying the quiet of the night when Johnny finally gets a glimpse of his true thoughts.

“Why is it that you won't allow yourself to pursue even past the debriefing room or weekly gatherings? She definitely wouldn’t say no to a night out with just you.”

Simon just blows the smoke he was savoring in his lungs.

“She’s too sweet for me.” That is all he lets on.

Johnny gave him a look, not understanding his thoughts.

“She’s too sweet for me. She can’t be with someone like me. It would be like mixing honey and ash. It wouldn’t work.”

You heard Simon complaining about shoulder pain the other day. You had picked up some lidocaine cream and patches because that is what worked for you. 

“Hey Simon,” You tried to get his attention before he got in his truck.

He stopped and turned to see you catching up to you. You had a small bag in your hand. He relaxed on the side of his door as he waited for you.

“Here you go.” You said, handing him the bag.

“What is it?” He said, looking at it before peeking in.

“I heard you complaining about shoulder pain, and I have the same problem, so I thought I would share the love by getting you some of the remedies I use for you.” 

“You're too sweet for me.” He whispered to himself, almost as a reminder.

“What?” You said, not picking up on what he had just said.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.” He said. You nodded and gave him a smile before walking over to your car. 

It’s three in the afternoon, and you're in his bed. It's a rainy day, and right now, you both are tucked in under his covers, taking in each other's body heat. You looked up to meet his eyes. He peers down to meet your gaze. Simon could have never thought, after years of this back and forth, that you would still agree to be here with him. You trace the scar that lines his lip. You knew he was afraid to bear himself all to you. To open Pandora's box and let you see him like this. No mask, no guard, just him. He was expecting you to run away from the bitterness he knows surrounds him. But you stayed. And continue to do so.

“You're too sweet for me.” He says before grabbing a hold of your chin and moving you towards his lips. 

ANGST PORTION (don't hate me, but this is also in my head)

He’s standing before you. Hood on, hands in the pocket. He gazes down as he mutters the words,

“You're too sweet for me.”

He’s attempting to break things between you. And his reasoning echoes in your head: You're too sweet for me. At the end of the day, you care for the man you love, have been there for him through the darkness, and have shown him the way it feels to be loved. And he's stepping back because of the words–You're too sweet for me. 

[prythianpages]

You're Good To Me | Eris x Reader

summary: Eris realizes two things. One, he's in love with you, his brother's betrothed. Two, he's put you in danger.

warnings: angst, mentions of killing, but there is some fluff in the middle!

a/n: This one is inspired by Hozier's Would That I. Eris is so Hozier coded and when I heard this song, I couldn't help myself but write this. You can find the masterlist for this series here or just read this as a stand alone imagine. I rewrote the last scenes to this so many times within the past couple of hours but I think I'm finally content with this.

The late morning sun casts long shadows through the towering trees of the Autumn Court's sprawling estate, dappling over Eris with golden hues. Resting against a centuries-old oak, he reads a book–your book–while his hounds run about freely. Occasionally, they bring him a random stick that he happily throws.

She was soft as an angel but oh, she could love with the fury of a demon–

Clover, his youngest hound, barks, pulling his attention from the book. It’s one that has an adorable chirp to it. His fingers still on the page he was about to turn. Recently, there’s been only one other person–besides him, of course– who can elicit such a sound. 

With a roar of a fire, Eris’s heart rises to its feet, mirroring Clover’s excitement. He can feel you too. You’re close. The book he was reading lays forgotten in his lap as he listens for the telltale sound of hoofbeats drawing near.

You had gone for a morning ride with his mother as you’ve done nearly every morning for the past week. How convenient for Eris to be reading near the stables around the time you’d return.

He was strategically positioned not to be in your direct line of sight but for you to come into his.

You’re laughing at something his mother said and the small smile that tugs at his lips is almost inevitable. He lifts his gaze, admiring the carefree expression on your face and the way the sunlight catches your hair. Clover lets out a small wine, tail wagging in anticipation as she watches you. She looks back at Eris, as if asking if she could run to you, and though Eris isn’t one to deny his hounds, he shakes his head at her. He wants to bask in your presence from afar awhile longer.

He can tell your lips are moving but from where he sits, he can’t discern your words. The soft pat you give your horse, Maximus, and the responding loud neigh is enough to clue him in. Maximus stands proud, his long white mane blowing in the gentle morning breeze as you dismount him with the help of one of the stablemen. You traded your pretty dresses for something more fitting for your morning ride. His gaze lingers on the way your pants cling to your curves longer than it should.

A low growl from Clover has him abruptly tearing his gaze away from your body. He watches as you run toward an older male. Your smile is so bright it competes with the sun as you throw your arms around your father. There’s something unsettling about the way your father looks at you. Something that makes your father undeserving of your smile. 

While you look up at him in admiration, he looks at you as if you are his most prized possession. An object. He can tell his mother senses it too by the forced smile on her face as she politely greets him.

In the blink of an eye, Clover is darting toward you with an urgency that startles Eris. The rest of his hounds pause, their muscles tensing as they watch the scene unfold. Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. Clover bounds towards you, her tongue eagerly reaching out to shower you with affection.

“Do they just let vile creatures roam around freely here?” He hears your father loudly ask with a scowl on his face.

“Her name is Clover,” you are quick to correct, turning toward your father again.

Clover turns with you and suddenly, she’s growling and snapping at him. With a yelp, your father falls to the ground on his butt while Clover lowers her head with another growl in warning. Eris rises to his feet and brings his finger to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle.

Just as quickly as Clover had escaped his side, she obediently makes her way back to him. Your gaze follows after her, and it's then that you spot Eris. There's a softness in your gaze as it lands on him. Despite the tension between Clover and your father, you seem unfazed. Your focus solely on Eris as the stablemen rush to help your father, who is groaning out profanities while his mother apologizes on Eris’s behalf. 

Eris holds your gaze, patting Clover’s head in a reassuring manner. He’s not sorry about the whole ordeal. His hounds are trained to appear menacing and fearsome but they never attack without reason. Now, he’s inclined to investigate further, realizing he does not know enough about your father.

“Come along,” your father says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and forcing your attention back to him. He looks down at your outfit and a frown appears on his face. “You’re a Lady now, y/n. You need to dress like it.”

“I’m sorry,” he hears you apologize, unsettling him further. He watches as your body is enveloped by a golden glow and when he blinks, your riding outfit is replaced by a soft pink gown.

As your father rushes you back toward the forest house, you can’t help but glance back. There’s the slightest curve to Eris’s lips at that. He waves your book in a teasing manner, reveling in the immediate response he receives. You quickly turn back around and even from his distance, he can appreciate the blush that warms your cheeks. He feels a similar warmth swell in his chest, leaving him already anticipating seeing you again at dinner.

**

Eris hesitantly turns the final page of the book, as if reluctant to part ways. He had needed something to preoccupy himself with until dinner and with his father thankfully busy entertaining yours, he decided to immerse himself further into the book you held dear. He knew it was one you treasured by the worn-out cover and the pages threatening to detach from the spine. He’s almost distraught at the creases that line the top edges of random pages but is willing to forgive you for it. 

His gaze settles on the last words, a bittersweet ache tugging at his heartstrings.

"You are the love that came without warning. You had my heart before I could say no,” he breathes, holding her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” she croaks out as she looks up at him, blood seeping from her mouth. “I love you too.”

And as she drew her last breath, he felt his world end with it.

He stares at the words, reading them over and over again. Finally, he closes the book, but the words linger, echoing within him like a haunting melody. They stir emotions in him he’s never felt towards the ending of a book before. He feels lost. Angry. Disbelief. What kind of ending was this? If this book wasn’t yours, he would’ve flung it across his room.

He lets out a deep exhale, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. When he opens them, he looks at the clock hanging across the wall from him. Two hours until dinner still looms ahead. He wants to find you, to tell you his thoughts like you told him to but it’s too risky at this moment. 

Rising from his seat, he gingerly sets your cherished book down on the small table beside him. He grabs his coat, deciding fresh air will do him well. Perhaps, even a walk through the village. There is a shop he’d like to visit. Anything to quiet his thoughts and the clamor of his racing heart. The characters from the book struck a chord too familiar with him.

**

“Hold my hand.”

“No.”

Eris pauses at the voices, eyes immediately finding the owners. There's a notable gap between you and Sawyer, tension crackling in the air as you exchange heated glances. For a moment, Eris wonders if there’s fire coursing through your veins too.

“Listen,” you start. “I don’t want to hold your hand but I want my father to believe I’m happy.”

Sawyer lets out a chuckle. “Your father doesn’t care.”

The look of hurt that flashes in your eyes is enough to have Eris’s blood boiling. “Can’t you at least do this one thing for me?” You plead, clasping your hands in front of him.

“Nope,” Sawyer repeats, accentuating the “p” sound, evidently relishing in the opportunity to further irk you.

“Gods, you’re such an–an…”

Sawyer raises a challenging eyebrow, his gaze locking onto you as your voice wavers, the resolve slipping away. "Say it," he whispers sharply, and Eris's muscles tense instinctively, not liking his brother's tone. Maybe, he should intervene…and teach Sawyer another lesson.

“You’re an asshole.”

Eris almost chokes on his own spit. He fights back the urge to laugh. Not at you, but at the sheer surprise written all over Sawyer's face. Sawyer clearly hadn't expected such boldness from you, and if Eris were to be honest, he is surprised too. Pleasantly surprised. 

“Only for you,” Sawyer hisses back, surprise morphing into offense.

“I won’t even breathe in your direction for the next week.”

“And?” 

You look at him incredulously. “And?”

Sawyer doesn’t respond. He folds his arms tightly across his chest, letting you know he expects more from you. Your response is a frustrated huff, a sound that would have typically elicited an amused smile from Eris. But not at this moment. 

“Fine. I’ll cover for you for all the days leading up to our wedding. Do whom and what as you please. But–” you pause, holding a finger out to him. “–you have to say something nice to me in front of my father too.”

Sawyer’s lips curve into a pleased smirk. “That’s more like it, poo bear,” he purrs, bringing his hand up to pinch at your cheek a little too rough for Eris’s liking.

His fists clench at his sides, watching with envy as Sawyer slowly offers you his arm. Though it’s what you asked for, you eye it with caution. As soon as your hand is lifting to take Sawyer’s arm, Eris finally decides to make his presence known. He walks forward and toward the still notable gap between you and his younger brother. His shoulder purposely bumps into Sawyer’s, a mask of indifference on his face as he does so.

On the other side, his fingers graze against yours. A gesture so subtle it appears to be accidental. There’s no nuance in your expression but your fingers respond, gently lingering over his own. A tug on that golden thread in his chest has his steps wanting to falter. He does not give in, pushing forward instead.

Eris walks into the dining room and settles into his seat beside his mother, nodding a greeting to both his father and yours. They’re already immersed in what sounds like a pointless conversation over Prythian’s economy. Knowing that you and Sawyer will be following shortly, hand in hand, he yanks the bottle of wine from Oliver’s grasp. The heated glare he receives is instant but he couldn’t care any less as he fills his glass to the brim, wishing it was something stronger.

“There’s my blooming flower,” he hears your father happily greet as you grace them with your presence.

“The prettiest flower,” Sawyer remarks in a tone as smooth and soft as velvet. His younger brothers snicker, clearly amused with the drastic change in Sawyer’s attitude toward you. 

Eris, however, does not find it amusing. 

The grip on his glass tightens so harshly that his mother spares him a glance. She gives him a discreet kick under the table, silently urging him to relax. While his grip on his wine glass loosens, the tension in his jaw doesn’t. He remains quiet during dinner, chiming in only enough to not raise suspicion. He doesn’t dare to sneak a glance at you. Nor at Sawyer. Not even to glare daggers at him for every sweet word he speaks your way.

He knows it’s all an act but the thought does nothing to soothe him. Not when he heard you begging Sawyer to act like he likes you, to hold your hand, to say sweet nothings to you. To do all the things Eris is desperately yearning to do. 

The Cauldron was cruel.

**

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well here,” your father says as you walk arm in arm.  “A flower like you needs the right soil to flourish.”

After dinner, the two of you had taken a stroll through the gardens, catching up with one another. He told you all about his recent business adventures, gloating over how the deals coming his way were endless as the word of your family name mixed with the Vanserras spread throughout Prythian. It was when the autumn winds began to pick up and grew too cold for your liking that you made your way back in the forest house and toward your room.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” You ask, a frown settling over your brows. Please stay, you want to add.

“I’m afraid so. I have a meeting with a potential business partner in Hewn City so I’ll have to leave early tomorrow to prepare,” your father replies in an apologetic tone. “I’ll try to make it in time for your next dress fitting.”

“Okay,” you respond, forcing another smile to your face. You hope your father can’t see right through it. “I’ll wake up early tomorrow to bid you farewell.”

“Lovely,” Your father says, the two of you coming to a stop near your door, where an Autumn guard is stationed right in front. With a nod of his head, the guard steps aside, allowing you access to your room. “Sleep well, okay?”

You lean your back against the door in contemplation. There’s so much you want to say. You want to tell him the truth. To ask him to call off the wedding. To have him take you with him, even if its to Hewn City. 

Perhaps, if it were your mother standing before you, you would’ve confessed it all. She was always willing to listen. Your father…not so much. Given the way he was already bragging about the benefits from your arranged marriage, you worried it’d only be a waste of your breath. You also feared burdening him further, knowing he already had a lot on his plate.

You worry your father senses your inner turmoil when he reaches out a hand, lifting your chin. He smiles at you, his eyes seemingly capturing every detail of your presence. Almost like he’s etching it into his memory forever. “You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more in a daughter. Your mother would be proud too.”

There’s a pang in your chest and your smile falters. Something tells you, you wouldn’t be marrying Sawyer if she were alive. Unlike your father, she would see right through you and find a way out for you. But you can’t blame your father, either. Your mother’s last wish was to see you married and happy. Your father only wishes to honor it. 

So instead of voicing your worries, you nod. “Goodnight, father.”

**

When you enter your room, you swear your heart skips a beat. Eris stands tall by your window, his red hair glowing like strands of molten copper under the pale moonlight. His gaze is fixed on the rustle of the leaves from the cool breeze, the shadows dancing across his delicate features. He looks ethereal just standing there.

“Your view is better than mine.”

You’re quick to shut the door behind you. “Lord Eris.”

Eris lets out a snort at your formality. He turns to face you with a small smile. “Just Eris,” he reminds softly as you approach him. 

“Sorry, it’s a habit now,” you reply in a sheepish manner. You walk further into your room, joining him at his side. “What are you doing here? You didn’t leave a note this time.”

“I finally finished it.” Eris says as he reveals what he’s holding in his hands. Your book.

“You did?” Your eyes widen as you take it back from him.

The spine is gently bowed from decades of being held dear but you notice that the pages that were teetering away from the spine have been carefully attached back. What catches your eyes most, however, is the golden thread dangling from the midst of the pages. Your fingers toy with the autumn leaf charms that hang from it. Opening the book, you realize the string is attached to a bookmark. It’s placed exactly where you had last creased the page you had been on.

“I can’t believe you dog ear your pages, angel.”

Eris’s nose crinkles in disgust yet there’s an amused gleam in his eyes that has a laugh bubbling in your chest. “You say it like it’s a crime.”

“Because it is,” he insists with an incredulous furrow of his brow.

“Did you like it?”

“Like?” He laughs and you feel a flutter of uncertainty course through you. “I loved it,” he admits, soothing the flutter but then adds: “But I hated the ending.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes, his tone mirroring the playful glint dancing in his eyes.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you remind yourself to breathe properly. “Do you want to talk about it?” You offer tentatively, your heart racing with anticipation.

Eris grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Sitting on the window seat, he adjusts his body so that his back leans against the window. He carefully angles his legs, giving you space to sit too. You settle across from, hugging your knees to your chest. 

“Start from the beginning.”

And so Eris does, pouring out his every thought. 

He tells you how he enjoyed the author’s world building of the human world, though he knows in reality, it’s actually very boring. You attempt to defend the mortals but Eris dismisses it, claiming he knows their world is dull based on a human he knows. He then tells you how the slow burn romance between the two protagonists nearly drove him insane. That he’d never been more happy to read about two characters holding hands.  

“And don’t even get me started on the intimate scenes between those two. It went on in extravagant details for pages and pages,” he says with an amused exhalation. “How something so vulgar can be written so beautifully is beyond me!”

You can’t help but laugh at that, despite the heat rising to your cheeks. Eris continues with his passionate rant and you drink every single word. At some points, he pauses, asking for your interpretations of certain scenes, bringing forth small arguments and laughter.

"I just can't get over that ending," Eris remarks with a sigh, his brow furrowing in frustration. "It's just so... sad. Disappointing, almost. After all that trouble the hero went to save her only for her to still die at the end...”

"But isn't there a certain beauty in tragedy?" you counter softly. "The way it makes you feel, the emotions it evokes. The angst. Because as you read, you slowly begin to realize that it was not her who needed saving but him.”

Eris tilts his head, contemplating your words for a moment. Of course, you would see the beauty in the ending. His lips curve into a pout. He needs to protect you at all costs. He doesn’t want you to end up like him, spirit crushed by the cruel confinements of this court and forced to wear a mask at all times.

"I suppose I just prefer stories with happy endings. Life's already filled with enough sadness, isn't it?"

“It is,” you murmur, gaze softening with empathy. Then, your eyes are lighting up as a thought crosses your mind and you’re smiling at him. “Who would’ve thought Eris Vanserra, the heir to the Autumn Court, is a hopeless romantic with a soft spot for happy endings.”

The smile that breaks out brightens his entire expression and he lets out a chuckle, sending a warm flutter through your chest. He leans in closer, his amber eyes alight with an intensity that mirrors the flickering flames of the hearth in your room.

“And who would’ve thought a saint like you has the mind of a sinner.”

“Hey!” You gasp and give a playful kick to his thigh. 

Eris laughs, body relaxing as he slumps against the window for support. He’s lost count of the amount of times you two have laughed tonight but he knows it’s more than he ever has before. When you shift to give another kick, his hand grasps at your ankles. He raises a brow at you in challenge, almost daring you to try again.

“You said and I quote ‘something so vulgar can be written so beautifully,’ meaning that you enjoyed them too.”

“I did,” Eris agrees, lips curling into a smirk as he lifts his gaze. His fingers mindlessly dance across your exposed leg, sending a delightful shiver through you. “But I am no saint.”

It’s when he feels your leg twitch that he realizes what he’d been doing. He stands abruptly and lowers his head. He fears he’s getting too comfortable around you. “I sh–”

Standing from the window seat, your hand grasps for his, stopping him. “Since you read one of my favorites, it’s only fair that I read one of yours.” 

Eris's eyes widen in surprise and he turns back to look at you. No one has ever asked him about his favorite book. He read yours because he wanted to, curious to learn more about you through it. He didn’t expect you to return the gesture. 

 "Deal.” 

The word escapes him with such ease it scares him but it’s short lived as he’s overcome with excitement. His passion for reading had always been a solitary pursuit. It was something he never really shared with others, but he wants to with you. 

“I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you respond happily.

“But,” he begins, not allowing you to let go of his hand, his thumb brushes against the back of it. “You’re not allowed to dog ear my pages.”

“I’ll also need a book in return. It’s only fair,” he adds, mimicking your tone from earlier. His mind then drifts to thoughts of the both of you, curled up against one another with a book in your laps. Or maybe, you’d read to him while he holds you close, his head resting atop your shoulder and–

“Of course,” you reply, pulling him from his fantasies and toward the other side of your room, where many books were neatly lined atop a shelf. “I couldn’t bring all my books but I brought all my absolute favorites!"

Eris watches as you hum in contemplation. His attention is drawn to the way you tap a finger against your lips. He remembers the way they felt against his cheek. Lovely and sweet. Like your heart. He’s dying to know what they’d feel like against his lips…

He knows you’ve finally decided on a book when your other hand frees itself from his hold to reach out for it. You carefully slide it off the shelf and then turn around, presenting it to him. “You’ll love this one,” you tell him and you’re so confident it has his lips twitching upwards for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.  “It has a happy ending."

"I think I...," his voice wavers with a delicate tremor. He looks away, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush over the words he couldn't bring himself to articulate. "You're good to me," he murmurs instead, taking the book from you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Your words coax his gaze back to yours and the sincerity he finds in your eyes is one that’s never been directed at him before. It stirs a desire in him that he never even knew he was searching for. 

The fire in his veins burns brighter. The bond in his chest sings louder. He allows it to pull him closer to you. You're also leaning in until the book in his hand is the only barrier between your bodies.

There's nothing else to interrupt this moment between you both. No bells chiming like that day in the fountains. No cloak to trip over or lanterns like that night he snuck you out. It's just you two, in the stillness of the night, where the only sounds are your breaths and the crackle of the hearth nearby.

His movements are slow, giving you the chance to pull away at any moment. You don't. He watches your every shift in expression as his free hand tilts your chin up towards him. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

And then he's kissing you.

Softly and delicately like a butterfly's wings. Your lips are warm and perfect against his, your taste sweet and intoxicating. Even better than he could ever imagine.

Your hands travel up his neck and thread themselves through his hair, pressing his lips harsher against yours. Heat courses through him as you kiss him back. You're like a wildfire, burning away all memories of past lovers and leaving only the embers of your essence to light his way.

When he pulls away, a shared breathlessness lingers between you. As he looks into your eyes, it's like the world has somehow shifted. All at once, everything is different. He longs for the night he'll be able to hold you tight and let the blinding light you bring consume him fully.

For now, he leans his forehead against yours, breathing you in and taking in the soft smile on your face that mirrors his own.

**

But the very next morning, he's harshly reminded that though he's had a taste, your radiance remains beyond his grasp. He fears it will forever, like a forbidden flame that flickers just out of reach.

"Who does he think he is, making demands of me?" Beron seethes, his voice laced with frustration, as he paces back and forth in his study.  “I’ve graciously taken in his daughter. I’ve even granted him half of his money upfront. And yet where is my promise?”

Eris, standing nearby, observes with cautious eyes, gauging the storm brewing within his father. He knew it was going to be a bad day the moment he woke up from a nightmare. A nightmare whose cruel grip he still cannot shake off…because for the first time, you were in it.

 He prays his father can’t hear the rapid beating of his heart as he says, “Cancel the deal. Call off the wedding with Sawyer...”

And wed her to me, he wishes to add but the words stick in his throat. The painful truth lingers deep in his chest, nestled next to the strings of fate that bind him to you. It’s best if you leave this court and go somewhere far.

Far away where happiness might embrace you. Far away from the cruel clutches of his father’s power and even your own. Far away where you may free him of this torment…but the more time he spends with you, the more precarious the thread his honor hangs on becomes.

He fears that nowhere would be far enough now.

“Call off the wedding?” Beron laughs in an incredulous manner. The gold and crimson tapestries adorning the walls seem to shiver in response to his father’s simmering frustration. When Beron abruptly turns to face Eris, the younger male can’t help but flinch. “When you were the one who suggested this arrangement to begin with.”

Eris’s throat tightens. He had been the one to suggest this arranged marriage. 

Your father, a respected merchant, extended an offer to Beron – an offer that, even now, Eris grapples to comprehend fully. It was a proposal that was lured with promises of enhanced power for the High Lord of Autumn in exchange for wealth and elevated status through matrimonial ties.

With no available Vanserra daughters to marry your father to and Sawyer's nightly endeavors tarnishing the family name, it led Eris to suggest an arranged marriage between you and Sawyer. A futile attempt to protect his younger brother from a fate similar to Lucien’s…but at what cost?

The Cauldron must be bubbling with amusement at the irony of it all. For, unknowingly, Eris orchestrated the union between you, his mate, and his brother. This is all his doing. All his fault.

Eris wills himself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. “What’s so important about this exchange anyway?” He asks with a measured voice.

“Jareth has access to something precious,” Beron responds, his words chosen with deliberate care. "Something that may hold the key to immortality."

Eris's eyebrows furrow in contemplation, his mind racing to grasp at what special thing your father could be harboring. "What if he is bluffing?" 

Beron's eyes darken, sending a shiver down Eris's spine. His heart sinks to his stomach as he can already anticipate what his father is going to say.

 “I’ll kill his precious daughter. Then, I’ll kill him.”

If your father keeps his end of the bargain, you’ll marry Sawyer. Doomed to a life of misery, where danger lurks at every corner. If your father doesn’t keep his end of the bargain, you’ll be the one to face the consequences of his father's wrath.

And you're in this situation because of him. The bond in his chest tightens, the golden strings pulling taut with a piercing resonance. No, no, no. Panic seeps in with an agonizing intensity. The mere thought of any harm coming to you, especially because of his actions, sickens him to his stomach.

He can’t allow that to happen. He won't allow it to happen.

“That won’t be necessary,” Eris says, carrying the weight of centuries of practiced composure. “I’ll ensure Jareth keeps his end of the bargain.”

“As expected,” Beron replies in a pleased tone. “I’m counting on you.”

Eris manages a nod, silently excusing himself. He’s never been more desperate to leave his father’s study. He feels his hands begin to shake and he shoves them into his pockets, not wanting to allow anyone a glimpse of the turmoil raging inside.

It's only when he's in the comfort of his room that he allows his facade to crumble. Leaning heavily against the door, he slowly sinks to the floor. His hounds are immediately rushing to his side, noses brushing softly against his arms.

"I made a terrible mistake," he tells them quietly and a low whine comes from one of them in protest. Then, with a strong determination, he says, "but I'm going to fix it."

"I swear it," he promises, rising to his feet, his hounds following after him as he makes his way further into his room.

You're not going to marry Sawyer and you're not going to be the one to pay the consequences of your father's actions, should he betray them. No. Eris will make sure of that. He's running out of time but he's going to find a way to get you out of this mess. He knows he can.

Eris realizes then he'd do anything to keep you safe, even if it means losing everything. Because if there's one thing he can't lose, it's you.

a/n: and here comes the angst train. I hope you enjoyed Eris and reader talking about her favorite book as much as I enjoyed writing it ♡

tagging: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams

[missbunnybunny]

❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣

Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.

A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!

Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗ ▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. ╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝ Part 2 ↥

You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained, and your staff adored you.

When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire. You just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.

You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras.

When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.

So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational.

Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge.

You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.

You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out.

As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.

You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." H

is breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth.

While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast.

He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.

He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around.

You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled.

You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.

You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away.

You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opened at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive.

Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!"

Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.

When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute."

"Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine.

"No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it.

But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.

"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter.

"Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.

As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back.

He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron.

"I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.

He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation.

He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin.

It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.

Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned.

You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly.

"Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.

You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try.

It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion.

You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train.

"It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.

"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table.

Turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.

He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you."

As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it.

You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated.

His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him.

Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.

He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants.

"This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate.

He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch.

When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.

He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers.

"That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster.

Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand.

He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.

He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was.

Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance.

He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips.

Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.

His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him.

The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.

So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been.

BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit.

Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.

You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb.

As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb, and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time.

The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.

He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you.

"Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure.

The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect," James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.

After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms.

Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.

Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯

Update there’s a new hole to hide in now 🕳️ 👩🏽‍🦯

[fatesundress]

⭑ settle soft and as pure as snow. tom riddle x reader

summary. he’s tender the way snow is. devout as a prayer that it will clear come spring.

tags. gn reader, ooc tom to 99% of the world but man do i love the 1% to whom it isn't, short little blurb, fear of death / discussions of mortality, fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint but mostly comfort, just. lovers! being lovers! kind of a sequel to your kitchen table in that it's as much an analysis of tom's fears and desires as it is an x reader, i needed this so i wrote it idk what to tell you okay

note. in my long absence i hit 1k followers (!!!???) and while i've struggled to write anything substantial, i really enjoyed this and wanted to share something to somewhat express my gratitude :') have some healed tom (inspired by hozier) and as always, my requests are open in case something sparks inspiration. in the meantime, thanks for everything!!

word count. 791

He’s so suited to this. Beautifully, frustratingly so — born in its longest nights and shaded in its sundry tones; its stellular blues and soft, powdery whites — Tom Riddle is December made mortal. (An offensive turn of phrase, you’re sure, but he’s suited to mortality too.) You think he used to charm his cheeks not to flush but relented the effort at some point, some years ago with you, because the cold splashes them pink to his ears now, snow dotting his tousled hair. He has the integrity still to deny your caps and earmuffs with a signature scowl, but — one day.

It’s a walk through the night for no particular reason, with no particular direction. There’s moorland past the trail that winds around your shared abode, tall and dense and magical. It satiates something in him. The unknown. The need for it.

Sometimes he gets restless and doesn’t tell you, only stares furtively from the northernmost window, fingers conjuring spirals of ice on the sill absentmindedly. You take his hand and kiss the cool digits one by one. To remind him of intention.

It’s the decay, you presume. A little voice always tugs him that way, but it gets louder this time of year. With everything shedded, rotted, buried and slumbering, Tom endures watching the cycle he hates most echo into spring. Rebirth, yes, but not how he pictures it. What he knows in the steepest dusks is that one winter will come where he will not wake up again with the flowers, where you might vow to tend whatever garden someday blooms over his grave, a name etched into the stone that none but you will remember. Many winters after that, when you follow him into death and the house is mildewed and lichen clusters his favourite window, the grave will wear until even that is gone to time.

It terrifies him.

So you walk. Intention. Your hand is in his.

The magic of a simple charm warms you somewhat, but you enjoy the subtle sting of cold. You can feel it because you’re alive. It’s the same life that strung you to him in a way that can’t be severed, and now you make new trails in pathless woods and wonder at constellations, spiles broaching syrup into buckets from the trees. You collect them for potions. You invent new ones together, and tease him over a coughing fit in cauldron smoke that immortality is more than living forever.

He kisses you quiet, but he’ll listen later. There’s so much time.

You wonder if it suits you, too — winter — by the way he tends to you when it comes. Doting. You would never have imagined considering him having such a virtue when you met him, but he’s… tender, the way snow is.  Devout as a prayer that it will clear come spring. Stinging, soft, ephemeral. You weather him. But how he keeps you warm when the night drags on, and talk of constellations turns to talk of grief, he shelters you.

When your back is bare and you’re laid away from him, he traces the skin like he’s never seen it before. It’s a wonder, you think, to learn the mechanisms of touch like a foreign language. Perhaps it would feel the same for the first thousand times. How many winters did he trace the cool tile of his bedroom wall just like this, with skinny fingers scraping at the mortar on another empty birthday? There are questions even now you think to ask but don’t. He offers the answers mostly as he’s reminded of them: that a clearing in the moors evokes a memory of a bad field trip, a mantelpiece of tchotchkes echo a stolen box in a burning wardrobe, that most things, at times, feel fleetingly disparate, ready to be returned to their right place. Tea will go without sugar again as he will go without you.

Nonsense. This is yours, you tell him, the word sewn between you.

His pink cheeks are all the colour you see in the dark. The tree sap is sweet and light. You write a letter to a potioneer in New Guinea to draft, and turn left instead of right the next night, a new forest discovered within the first. Your New Year’s Eve is a swell of light in birthday candles, laughing into his cheek at some bad joke until the sound is smothered by a kiss he breaks too soon by laughing too. It’s a sound you can’t invent or imagine, words failing you even when you find them for everything else he is. 

Spring comes one unsuspecting morning, twice and twenty times, greys strewn in the black of his hair. You smile with crow’s feet into winter again.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange

[xxselenite]

˖ ࣪⭑ All the things yet to come are the things that have passed | Jacaerys x reader

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 9.8k Summary: Jace had been your rival at school for more than one year when your literature teacher paired you up for an assignment and you realised you might have misjudged him (featuring Helaena being an icon) Or Five times Jacaerys proved you wrong – and one time you did. Warning: a teeny tiny bit of angst, but it’s mostly fluff, the tiniest allusion to smut ever a/n: This is technically a prequel to Happens Great, Happens Sweet but it can be read as a standalone. I’m a sucker for academic rivals to lovers so I had to write this. This fic actually drove me crazy, I struggled so much writing it, it took me nearly a week, but I’m kinda satisfied with it. The title is from Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier (Hozier my beloved <3) Lastly, English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake. feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)

I.

“For this analysis,” the teacher started, “you will be in duos. Each group will have a different extract from a different book to work on, and you will then present your work in front of the class.”

You immediately turned towards Helaena who sat beside you with a wide smile on your face. You saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes, matching your excitement to have the occasion to work together, but the teacher interrupted you before you could ask her to pair up with you.

“My goal here is for you to see that analysis is incredibly personal, but also to teach you how to cooperate. For this reason, I have already established the pairs that will work together.”

Several sighs and moans echoed in the room and you reported your attention on your teacher again. Mrs River, your English teacher, had made it clear since the first day that this class would be different from the others. She encouraged dialogues and debates, creative writing and personal analysis in papers. She made brutal comments but graded nicely, and you could feel how much you had improved at her contact, but moments like this made you question your admiration towards her.

As she started naming students, you tried to find a pattern in the duos she had formed. It was obvious that she wanted to avoid putting friends together, and you thought that she would put a good student with one that struggled more, but it was not done consistently. You mentally erred in your mind the names that had already been said, groaning when she put Helaena with Cregan.

“We’ll work together another time,” your best friend whispered and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner.

After a little while, Mrs River’s piercing gaze fell on you as she called your name and you listened with apprehension.

“You will work with Jacaerys Velaryon on the opening chapter of the Bell Jar, from the first line to…”

Your jaw dropped as you stopped listening. You had to be cursed, or paying for the evil deeds you had committed in another life, or the Seven were angry at you, because this could not have gone worse. You would have rather worked with anyone but Jacaerys Velaryon, the guy with whom you were always neck to neck to be on top of the class, who was half of the reasons you worked so hard – just so you could display a smug smile whenever you beat him on an assignment. The guy you had a distaste for and…

“He hates me,” you told Helaena during lunch break, hiding your face in your hands. “This is going to be a nightmare. Don’t you want to exchange? I can work with Cregan and I’m sure you’ll get along with Jacaerys very well.”

Your friend tilted her head to the side, mindlessly chewing on a weird orange vegetable that was supposed to be a carrot.

“I think I was not paired with him because I’m his cousin.”

“You’re his what now?” You dropped your fork.

“His cousin,” she said in a monotonous voice. “Well, technically his aunt but our family is weird and we’re the same age so…”

“You’re Jacaerys’s cousin and you have not told me before? While I’ve been criticising him since last year?”

The girl shrugged, her white hair falling from her shoulder like a waterfall of liquid silver.

“Didn’t think it’d matter. You’re more than allowed to dislike my family, and he’s part of my extended family anyway.”

“Great,” you said ironically, pushing your plate away from you – you were convinced today’s food was made out of radioactive wastes. “So now I’m stuck working with a guy who I hate, who hates me, and I’m gonna feel bad every time I complain about him.”

“What makes you think he hates you anyway?” Helaena asked. “He didn’t seem that upset to be paired up with you in class.”

You hated to admit it, but your best friend had a point. Earlier in class after shooting her a look that meant “help me,” you had turned around to face your foe and now partner, only to realise he was already looking at you. If his face did not show any joy, he was not as pissed off as you were – surprised and apprehensive were better words to qualify his expression.

You started thinking at the last time he had clearly displayed hatred towards you, struggling to find any substantial proof that was not a highly interpreted interaction. Chewing on your lip, you felt increasingly ridiculous under your friend’s scrutinising glance until something came to your mind.

“Last year I was reading before the class started and I overheard him talk to his friends – or maybe they form some sort of royal court around him actually – and I distinctly remember hearing him call me a goodie-two-shoes. Maybe that’s not hatred, but that’s not a sign of love either.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not a goodie-two-shoes, it’s not my fault he never saw me having fun because I don’t go parties. And there’s nothing wrong with being a goodie-two-shoes anyway!”

“Alright,” Helaena interrupted you. “I think I get the picture. Listen, I’m really sorry you’re not with someone you wanted to work with and I’d go to Mrs River to ask if we can swap partners in a heartbeat, but we both know it’d be useless. She never does anything without a specific purpose in mind. Maybe she put you together because you’re the two best students in her class?”

“I can sense you want to add something.”

Helaena twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

“I think she’s perfectly aware of the rivalry going between you two and wants to instrumentalise it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, as your best friend had piqued your curiosity.

“Either she thinks you two collaborating means you’re both gonna try to do better than the other and push each other to be the best, or she thinks that it will appease the tension so the atmosphere isn’t electric every time there is a debate in class.”

“It’s not electric-.”

Helaena interrupted you, saying your name with a sigh. “Please, you know I love you, but you have to face the truth. I thought you were going to throw hands last time.”

“It’s not my fault! He said that Eros and Psyche were the best Greek love story when it’s obviously Orpheus and Eurydice!”

Your best friend snorted. “I shouldn’t have gotten you started on that, now you’re gonna tell me about the entire myth again. Seriously, how did you both manage to talk about mythology when the initial subject was about King Lear?”

You let out a loud sigh. “And what if he just refuses to work with me, keeps his analysis to himself until the presentation, and makes me look stupid because my analysis is different?”

Helaena offered you a reassuring smile. “He won’t do that. You know why?” You shook your head. “Because he cares way too much about his grades to sabotage your work like that.” You kept quiet for a second to let this idea sink in. “Oh by the way, can I get your carrots if you don’t eat them?”

You sighed and handed your plate to your friend with one hand, grabbing your backpack with the other to find a snack. You struggled rummaging through your stuff, the pens wandering outside of the pencil case, the crumpled sheets of paper – you were organised for many things, but not this one… Once you finally reached a chocolate bar, you jerked it out with so much energy one of your pens got thrown onto the floor.

You were about to stand up and grab it quickly before some stupid student made fun of you, but your eyes fixed on the floor failed to notice someone approaching until you saw a hand grab your pen and hand it to you. Your eyes followed the silhouette until you recognised Jace’s brown curls and the smile on his face – though you were surprised to realise that this was not the huge smirk he’d have when his grade was better than yours, this one seemed almost sincere. This made you all the more suspicious.

“Thanks,” you said reluctantly as you grabbed your pen. You expected him to leave but he did not move, towering over you in a way that made your stomach twist.

“So, when are you free?” Your brain froze for a second and he felt the need to explain himself. “To study. Unless you want to let me do everything, you’d have the best grade for sure.”

There he was again, the arrogant Jacaerys you were used to seeing. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No way, I can’t trust a guy to analyse Sylvia Plath.”

To your surprise, Jace let out a chuckle – that was the first time you heard him laugh and as much as you hated admitting it, it was the kind of sound you could not tire of.

“Fair enough,” he admitted. “Could we start working on it after sports class? In the library? It should be almost empty so we won’t be bothered.”

You nodded. “Sure, works for me.”

Jace smiled again. “See you later then,” he said in a joyous tone before returning to his friends. You watched him go for a second. You had not had an interaction this long with him in ages, if it had ever happened at all, and it had gone better than you expected. You observed the way he jokes with his friends, he now seemed a little less arrogant than you thought. Maybe he took your rivalry as a joke while you took it seriously (which was everything but reassuring, did that mean he thought you weren’t a threat?)

“Well,” Heleana’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “he doesn’t seem to hate you.”

You shrugged in a way you hoped was casual and your friend squinted her eyes.

“Do you know what’s curious?” She added, “I think you don’t hate him either.”

II.

One thing that had always annoyed you about Jace was how effortless he always was. He came to every test with unmatched confidence while you had been re-reading your notes compulsively for two hours. He won a match in sports class and still looked fresh as a breeze while you were sweating and panting. It was like you had to make ten times more effort to be at his level, and this made your blood boil.

This was one of your most common points whenever you started complaining about him to Helaena – which you did not do that often, despite having the impression he was always on your mind. That evening, however, as you were getting ready after sports class, you started rambling about your upcoming meeting in the library.

“And it’s so annoying! But you know what?” You asked after reapplying lip gloss. “At least I’ll see that he’s not a hard worker. It will make all of the times I beat him even more satisfying.”

Your best friend hummed distractedly.

“Do you genuinely believe that,” she asked after a little while, “or are you trying to convince yourself?”

You opened your mouth to say something witty but remained speechless in front of her. The girl kept going, unfazed by your reaction.

“Oh, I have to hurry, Aemond is waiting for me to go home. You should probably go at your rendez-vous as well.”

“It’s not a rendez-vous-”

“See you tomorrow !” She sang as she walked away, waving goodbye, her long hair floating behind her.

You grabbed your bag and contemplated the idea your friend had planted in your brain. Were you being unfair to Jace? Was being a good student his only crime, or was he willingly trying to drive you crazy with this tacit competition? You shook your head to stop your train of thoughts and started going towards the library – Jace was probably waiting for you, and you did not want to be late and offer him an opportunity to mock you forever.

Jace was indeed waiting when you entered the library. The late afternoon light bathed the room into a golden atmosphere which made it feel almost magical. You quickly scanned the room and noticed Jace sitting in a corner, typing something on his laptop with a small frown revealing his focus.

You took a deep breath and walked towards him, settling on the other side of the table.

“I hope you didn’t wait for too long,” you started, realising mid-way through the sentence that you actually meant it.

“No problems,” he shook his head. “I’ve just re-read the extract we have to work on, I have a few ideas here and there but I don’t want to make you feel like I forced my analysis upon you.”

“Oh,” you tilted your head to the side, “thank you for that. I’ve thought about the text during class this afternoon and there are a few elements I think we could use.”

“You didn’t have to read the text before?”

You shrugged, feeling a pinch of pride when you noticed the surprise in his eyes.

“I’m gonna read it now, but I have it in mind. ‘It was a queer, sultry summer,’ and all that jazz…”

“Impressive,” he nodded. “So, how do you want to organise the work?”

“I don’t know…” You said slowly, intimidated by the weight of his gaze. You thought it would be harsh, but the curiosity in his eyes was even heavier. If he was rude, you could be a bitch towards him – if he was nice, you had no choice but to match him. “We could both work on our own for a little while and then brainstorm? This way we can come up with different ideas and do the whole ‘cooperating’ part?”

Jace nodded and focused on his computer again while you grabbed your edition of the book – you had rushed home to grab it during your free hour this afternoon – and your pencil case. When you started highlighting your page, you noticed Jace’s widened eyes and chuckled.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re highlighting directly on your book?” He asked and you probed his tone for any trace of sarcasm but found none.

“If I’m studying a book, yes, but I try to be careful. Also, you will never catch me annotating my fancy books.”

“Ooooh, fancy books,” he smiled. “I’d ask you more about it, but we need to get working.”

“Maybe another time?” You asked and Jace nodded before diving into his analysis. Turns out, being nice to him did not require that much effort.

You both kept working for half an hour before you yawned and stretched, catching Jace’s attention.

“You’re done?” He asked and you nodded in response. You turned your book towards Jace who squinted to decipher your hand-writing. After a few seconds, he asked:

“Do you mind if I sit next to you? It’s gonna be more practical.”

“Sure, no problems,” you cleared your side of the table to make space for him.

As he moved next to you, his arm brushed against yours and you quickly removed it, cheeks on fire. The subtle smell of his Cologne lingered around, creating a comfortable and intimate space around you. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and started comparing your annotations to Jace's.

You hated to admit it, but he had done a great job. His own perception of the extract complemented yours more than it contradicted it, and to your own surprise, you thoroughly enjoyed this exchange. At one point, Jacaerys leaned a little closer to read one of your notes, only to give up and ask you to read it for him.

“Which word?” You stuttered, a bit flustered by the sudden proximity. He was close, close enough for you to notice the freckles on his face – had they always been there? – and it took a second for you to react after he showed you the sentence. “Oh, it’s just that the verb ‘bump’ objectifies her in a way, which echoes her condition as a woman in the fifties, but this also renders an impression of passivity which would fit her dissociated state.”

The boy nodded and promptly added it to his Google doc. “That’s a good idea. Thank you for reading, I couldn’t decipher anything.”

“Do I write this badly?” You said with the sass you usually tried to have when interacting with him. You expected him to answer in the same tone, but he shook his head.

“It’s just that I have this bad tendency not to wear my glasses.”

“Wait, you’re supposed to have glasses?”

The boy looked away. “Proving my point.”

“I’m not gonna ask you why you don’t wear them, it’s none of my business, but don’t you use contact lenses? Do you spend your days behind partially blind?”

“I don’t really like the feeling of lenses,” he admitted. “Honestly, you get used to not seeing a thing.”

You nodded when a realisation hit you. Was this the reason why he always seemed to be glaring at you with squinted eyes? Had you been taking this as a sign of aggression for more than a year when it was just because he couldn’t see properly? You were too shy to ask, not to mention you would probably sound ridiculous and did not want to alter the temporary sympathy that had settled between the two of you, but this single revelation forced you to reconsider your past interactions with the boy.

You kept working a bit distractively, seeing Jacaerys with a fresh perspective and finally admitting to yourself that he was quite handsome. When you both ran out of ideas, your partner closed his laptop and you put your book and pencils back in your bag.

“I think we’re done for today,” he declared.

“Yes, I have lost all of my remaining brain cells,” you joked and took pride in Jace’s chuckle. “Tomorrow same time?”

Jace thought for a second and nodded. “Should be good for me.” You stood up to leave but his hand on your wrist held you back as he said “Wait.” This simple contact sent shivers down your spine. His hand was warm, surprisingly soft, not applying any pressure – not an order, just a suggestion.

You turned around to look at him, hoping you did not look too dazed.

“Maybe we should exchange our numbers,” he started. Your eyes must have widened without you realising because he immediately added, “So we’ll communicate more efficiently.”

“Yes,” you echoed, “communicate more efficiently. That’s what Mrs River wants us to do.”

You gave him your number and he dropped your hand to write it down, leaving your hand suddenly cold, colder than it should be on a mild October day. After this and some more casual small talk, you left the library, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Later during that evening, when you were lying on your bed rehashing your afternoon, you got a call from Helaena.

“I wanted to know how it went,” she explained when you answered.

You started debriefing your time with Jacaerys, trying to be as honest as possible. Your best friend listened with great attention, humming sometimes on the other side of the line to let you know she was still there. When you finished your account, she remained quiet for a moment, until you softly called her name – perhaps she had fallen asleep?

Wrong. She was well awake and asked you out of the blue:

“Do you like him?”

“What?” You squeaked. “What do you, he’s been nice for one evening but we’ve spent a year as rivals!” You carefully avoid mentioning your growing suspicion that this rivalry was one-sided. “And I barely know him anyway.”

“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” she ominously answered and you groaned into your pillow. “Well, even if you never become best of friends,” she kept going, “at least he did his work.”

“It’s not like we had a ton of work to do,” you rolled your eyes. Right after finishing your sentence, you felt assailed by guilt. Why did you feel such a need to criticise him when he had been polite, if not friendly towards you?

“Sure,” Helaena sighed on the other line. “You’re funny when you’re like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing. Oh, Mom is calling me, see you tomorrow!” Your best friend hung up so fast you doubted her mother said anything.

You sat up, considering what you were about to do next when a notification caught your attention. You had received a text from an unknown number. You unlocked your phone to delete it without thinking, expecting another scam, but your brain realised at the very last second that this might be relevant.

[unknown number] Hey, it’s Jacaerys, I hope you got home safe. I’m sending you the link to my google doc, I wrote down all of our ideas and I’ve started organising it a bit. I also threw a few possible theses, feel free to add other ideas! See you tomorrow!

You clicked on the link and gasped when you saw the fantastic work he had done. It was all neat, easy to understand, and his possible lines of argument were more than relevant. You hastened to answer.

[You] Wow, this is amazing, thank you so much for this work, how long did it take you? I don’t want to give the impression I’m slacking off. It’s really really great! See you tomorrow!

[Jacaerys] Thank you, it didn’t take me that long and don’t worry, if there’s one person I wouldn’t think slacks off, it’d be you

[You] Thanks again Jacaerys!

[Jacaerys] Come on, you can call me Jace

III.

You arrived at the library slightly before the time you and Jace had agreed on. The rain was pouring against the windows forming a soothing melody and the dark sky created a sombre, tense atmosphere which delighted you. You thought you’d have the opportunity to pick a table near the windows, yet you heard someone call your name softly. Turning around, you saw Jace waving in a more secluded part of the room.

You rolled your eyes and walked towards him. You were early and yet he was already there, leading you to seriously think he only cared about school. Perhaps he was the ghost of a student condemned to haunt the hallways forever, sometimes finding a victim to bother with his excellent grades and beautiful smile. At least that’d explain his work ethic and general knowledge, much easier to acquire after spending years in school.

He removed his bag from the chair next to him to invite you to sit there and you tried to ignore your increasing heartbeat as you settled down.

“How are you?” He asked after greeting you.

“Just another day,” you answered. “And you?”

After a brief small talk, you went back to your analysis. Your goal today was to define your line of argument and your thesis, after which you could both pick which parts to write and explain in front of the class. As you expected, the kind of intellectual chemistry that you had discovered yesterday was still there to the point your conversation digressed several times.

Nevertheless, you managed to work efficiently until the screen of Jace’s phone lit up.

“Wait I have a call, I’ll be right back,” he whispered. You gave him a thumbs up to let him know it was fine and he left the room taking long strides. You used this break to stretch and then decided to update Jace’s not on his computer, in return for the unexpected work he had done the day before. Without thinking, you went to the bottom of the page and added a small note.

“I’m starting to think that people are right when they say great minds think alike ;)”

You had barely finished typing that Jace entered the room again, and you hastily moved back to the top of the page. You felt a little silly, behaving like a teenage girl; fiddling with your hair trying to look as innocent as possible. By good luck, Jace did not notice your suspicious attitude and just shot you an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry but I have to go early,” he explained. “My step-sister was supposed to bring our little brother home from daycare but she doesn’t have a car and it’s raining too hard for her to walk him home, so I’m gonna pick him up.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I think we’re good to go anyway, and we can text if we have another idea. I’m gonna walk home as well.”

You started putting your stuff away but interrupted your action when you felt Jace’s stare. You raised your head, tilting it in a silent interrogation.

“You’re gonna walk under this torrential rain?”

You chuckled. “It’s fine Jace, I have my umbrella.”

The boy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest in a way that made it hard not to look at his muscles beneath his shirt. “I can give you a ride.”

“It’s okay, really-”

“What if you catch pneumonia and miss the presentation?”

You looked at the boy, astounded, before sighing. Of course, he was motivated by school. How dare you believe – or rather hope – that he had your best interest in mind.

“Nothing I can say will change your mind…” You guessed.

“How clever. Just tell me where I can drop you.”

As you sat inside his car, you tried to swallow your bitterness. Even if his action was not selfless, you were still grateful he had made that offer. You had to walk for at least twenty minutes to get home, and your old umbrella would not have been a great help against the gusts of wind that flooded the pavement.

As you buckled up, you tried to initiate a conversation that was unrelated to your assignment, the silence too awkward for you to sit in.

“So…” you started, “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Jace chuckled. “My family’s a little messy.”

“Really?” You turned your head to look at him and found yourself in awe of his side profile. He must have felt your gaze because he quickly glanced at you and you looked away, cheeks heating up, like a toddler caught red-handed.

“My mother had me and my two younger brothers, and then she married my step-father who already had two daughters, and together they had two more boys.”

“Wow,” was all you found to say at the moment. “That’s a lot. I guess it means the house is never quiet.”

“You can say that, yes.” He hesitated. “I love them all, really, they’re great, but sometimes it gets…”

“Overwhelming?”

“A bit.” He nodded. “And it comes with a lot of unexpected events, like this one.”

“It’s still sweet,” you commented, “that you did not hesitate a second.”

Jace chuckled. “I was not gonna let Rhaena get drenched or Aegon wait in daycare.”

“Some would have.”

Jace opened his mouth to say something, sighed, and closed his mouth, which amused you.

“What were you going to say?” You asked.

The boy shot you a surprised look.

“I really have to be careful, you’re observant.” Your eyes fell to your lap and you bit your lip. “But I was just gonna argue that my attitude should be the standard, though you complimenting me is such a rare event, I changed my mind.”

You snorted. “Now you’re gonna make me feel bad.” You left a pause. “If you’re so desperate for praise, then listen: I frankly admire how you seem to care about your family and still find the time to be on top of almost all of our classes. Almost.”

You saw a lopsided smile appear on his face and smirked.

“Almost, yes, I get it,” he answered. “I still have to beat you in history, but I promise my next essay will blow the teacher’s mind.” You both laughed. “You’re right though, I’m busy. I try to spend time with my siblings – partly to alleviate a bit my mom and step-father work, but I also want to hang out with my friends and everything.”

You groaned. “How do you juggle with all of this? You must have a secret. Can you freeze time of something?”

“Trust me I wish. And you, do you have any siblings?”

The conversation kept going and you felt increasingly relaxed. His car was comfortable, the sound of the rain was lulling you, and Jace turned out to be a conversationalist. He asked questions with a genuine interest and his own anecdotes were memorable. You felt like you knew him better after this fifteen minutes drive than after a year and a half in the same class. When you reached your house, you regretted living so close from your school. You did not want the discussion to end and would have done anything to stay a little longer.

You opened the door, the cool air outside slapping your face, harsh contrast with the warmth that had settled in the vehicle.

“Thanks again,” you smiled and Jace smiled in return, this simple thing brightening up the passenger compartment.

“No problems. It was nice chatting with you.”

“It was.” You kept looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance. “You should not keep your brother waiting for any longer.”

“You’re right.”

You closed the door and ran towards the porch of the house, carefully avoiding falling onto the slippery pavement. Once sheltered, you turned towards the road and waved at Jace who waved back before starting the car again. You watched the vehicle disappear in the fog that had fallen on the city.

You remained distracted for the whole evening, listening absentmindedly to your family during dinner, but it was only when your back hit your bed that you realised you were looking forward to your next work session with Jace.

IV.

You took a deep breath and read your notes yet another time.

“I’m starting to think my part is terrible.” You moaned. “I’m dragging your work down.”

Jacaerys, sat next to you in the library, whispered your name.

“You’re fine,” he told you. “Really, I’ve read your part, you’ve read mine, we both did a great job and we’re gonna earn a great grade.”

You sighed. “How do you know?”

“Because,” Jace closed his laptop, “I see you freak out in the hallway before every exam, and yet you always get good grades.”

You gave him a soft smile, touched by his attempt at comforting you, but this smile faltered when you realised what he had implied.

“Wait, how often are you observing me for you to say that?”

“You’re pacing back and forth, it’s hard not to notice you,” he answered quickly, on the defensive, and with a confidence that did not manage to hide the blush that was spreading across his face.

You held his gaze back for a second, feeling irresistibly drawn to him. He was close, close enough for you to admire the details of his face, his long lashes, his freckles, all of the small features you had failed to notice for so long. He was staring back, a glimmer in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher but that made your heart do a somersault, and for a second you thought that perhaps something could happen when someone dropped a book in the library and you jerked away from him.

“I,” you stuttered. “I need to use the bathroom. I don’t want to be bothered during our presentation.”

Jace squinted, frowned for a second, and nodded. “Sure, no problems.”

You almost ran outside of the room, feeling your cheeks growing hot. The stress was driving you crazy, making you act in a way that was not who you were supposed to be. Sure, Jace had been nice to you for a week. He was funny and seemed to be a good person. And he was incredibly handsome, of course. But since when were your standards so low that you had a crush on a guy just for those reasons?

You opened the door of the bathroom which was empty for once. You didn’t even need to use it, but you could use a little calm. There was something about the buzzing of the neon lights that was strangely soothing. You splashed some cold water on your face, feeling your heartbeat calm down, but the sudden opening of the door startled you.

“Oops, sorry,” the newcomer said, and you turned around when you recognised her voice.

“Helaena?”

“That’s me,” she approached to greet you. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your presentation?”

You nodded, feeling the lump in your throat swelling. Your best friend tilted her head to the side, her hair falling from her shoulder like beams of moonlight. Her periwinkle eyes scanned you and she grabbed your hands. “Oh, you’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

You nodded again, the softness in her voice making your eyes wet.

“Did it go that badly? Was Jace rude or anything?”

“No,” you immediately corrected her. “He did a great job and he turned out to be… nicer than I expected. I’m just,” you exhaled. “I’m just stressed. You know what it is.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Not directly. He definitely noticed I was stressed out, although I tried to remain as composed as possible in front of him.”

A brief smile appeared on Helaena’s face, like lightning in the middle of the night.

“Maybe that’s why you’re in such a state, you let everything build up and it just got overwhelming.”

You bit your lip. Your best friend definitely had a point, but you had forgotten to mention the brief moment of tension that had contributed to your overall panic.

“Yeah,” you eventually admitted. “I guess I tried to be… cool? In front of him, I mean. It’s a bit silly.”

“Hum,” Helaena gave you a suspicious look you did not appreciate. “Why so?”

You shrugged, leaning against the cold sink. “I guess because he’s nice I don’t want to look like a loser. Don’t look at me like that,” you stopped your friend before she could say a word. “Maybe our rivalry was one-sided, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna be buddies and everything. I won’t be surprised if he stops talking to me the moment the assignment is done.”

“I don’t understand why he’d do that. From what you told me, you seemed to get along pretty well.”

“He’s popular,” you sighed, exasperated. “He gets along pretty well with everyone, doesn’t mean those connections are meaningful and lasting.”

Helaena crossed her arms over her chest. “Yet you wish yours could be?”

You hesitated a second. “Well, I think we could be friends, yes.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on your friend’s face. “I think so too.” She got closer to give you a side hug. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“I guess so? Talking to you usually has this effect.”

Helaena cooed. “You’re flattering me. Now get back there and show everyone how great of a student you are. And,” she called your name softly, “don’t pretend with him. You’re my coolest friend, if he doesn’t see it, it’s his loss. Although I do think he sees it.”

You pressed your lips into a thin smile. “Thank you Helaena.”

“You’re welcome,” she blew you a kiss and you left the bathroom feeling more at peace than you were when you entered. Being able to talk freely had taken a weight off your shoulders – though you felt a bit guilty for the moment you had avoided mentioning. You still needed to think about it once you had some peace and quiet, probably sleep on it and see if it was the product of your stress or a sign of something rooted more deeply.

When you sat next to Jace again, the first thing you noticed was the worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He immediately asked and you nodded with all of your energy to reassure him.

“Don’t worry. There was just a line.”

He accepted your lie without asking any questions. You went to grab your notes but he stopped you mid-action.

“I think you’re good. I’ve heard you rehearse and you knew your subject. Reading it again is just gonna stress you out.”

You sighed. “You’re probably right. I think my brain cannot absorb any information right now.” You checked the time on your phone. “We still have twenty minutes before class begins, what do you want to do?”

“Well, right now I would mind a coffee. Can I pay you a drink?”

“The coffee machine has been repaired?”

“I have no idea,” Jace chuckled and stood up. “But I’m willing to find out. So,” he landed you a hand, “wanna come?”

You looked at his hand; the infinity of possibilities it represented, and tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach as you seized it.

˖ ࣪⭑

When Mrs River called your and Jace’s names, you walked towards the front of the class with the excitement of an inmate before their last meal. You made sure to take deep breaths to avoid getting into another panic attack, and Jace must have noticed this because he quickly squeezed your shaky hand with a smile. You swallowed your stress and smiled back before turning towards the class.

Your presentation went well. The hours spent working had created a familiarity with the book and made your analysis all the more convincing. You managed to stop reading your notes as the sentences you had carefully written flew into your mind. You echoed and referred to some of Jace’s arguments, showing the teacher that you had worked together and collaborated just as she had required. When she commented on your assignment at the end, she did not spare you but there was a slight smile on her face that was rare enough for you to take pride in it.

When she finally let you rejoin your seats, you did not waste a second and rushed towards your chair, dropping your notes on the table and sighing all of the pressure away. You glanced at Jace who gave you a thumbs up from the other side of the room and you mirrored him before shifting your focus to the pair that was about to speak.

After two or three more presentations, Helaena nudged you gently to catch your attention. You turned your head towards her and noticed she was pointing at your notes. You frowned, not understanding what she meant, and your gaze dropped to the Bristol card. There was a note at the very bottom; written with a pencil, small and neat compared to your highlighted and crossed-out notes.

Only two people could have written it; Helaena or Jace. Your best friend could have easily stolen your notes while you were busy listening to your classmates, while Jace had been alone with your notes for several minutes when you were in the bathroom. It made more sense for Helaena to write it, you two often communicated this way during class if you wanted to remain discrete, but her pencil case was closed.

Rather than keep on speculating this way, you grabbed your notes and read the text. You had to squint to decipher it; whoever had written had put as little pressure on their pencil as possible. Still, you managed to read word by word that one sentence that set your heart ablaze.

“still wanna study with me in the library sometimes?”

V.

You had a crush on Jace. That was it, such a simple sentence that still had been torturing you for almost a whole month. The rainy and orange October days had made way for a dry, chilly and brown November that seemed to match your mood.

You had truly hoped that the wave of joy Jace had ignited in you, that the butterflies and the fluster were all temporary. Yet, you had been forced to admit to an unimpressed Helaena that your feelings were getting stronger and stronger each time you joined him in the library to study and chat, and that terrified you.

You did not properly talk outside of class, he’d sometimes send you a message about something you might find interesting, and you’d do the same, but your exchanges had not gotten any more intimate for better or for worse. You wished you could spend more time by his side, maybe recreate this one scene before the presentation which had not left your thoughts since; but you were scared that your lovesickness would show through your giggles, freak him out and permanently damage your blossoming friendship.

“It’s never going to be reciprocal,” you had moaned to Helaena during the sleepover when you finally talked about your crush.

The girl had immediately refuted this statement, reminding you that you were a smart, beautiful, nice and funny young woman, but none of these qualities seemed enough at the moment. Jace could have easily seduced any girl – or boy – in your class so why would he settle for you?

You were convinced he saw you as a friend with whom he still shared a sort of rivalry; rivalry which had become way more light-hearted than before; perhaps you had a special status, but it would never be that special. Everything you learned about the boy made you want him a little more – the complicated relationship he had with father figures, his love for pets and their names or the importance of his friendship with Cregan.

Cregan had become friends with Helaena over the assignment and you both discovered the advantages that came with your newly found “popularity”. People had stopped picking on your best friend and even started to admire her knowledge of insects, considering it a quirk and not a sign of madness, while you got invited to many social events, though you declined most of them (partly because Helaena was not going to parties, and you weren’t going without her).

This time, however, your best friend had convinced you to go to Cregan’s house party. She believed it was a great occasion to see Jace in an informal setting and perhaps get closer to him. You thought the idea was a little silly, but gave in to Helaena’s convincing arguments and the promise that she’d braid your hair with one of those complex hairstyles you admired so much.

When you were getting ready, you thought this party could actually be fun. You wanted to look pretty, neat and tidy, but not too neat and tidy so people would think you had spent hours getting ready – which was in fact the case. To look casual, but not too casual, when in fact even the strands of hair that escaped for your braid had been carefully styled to frame your face in the most flattering way possible. You had put on music, laughed with your friend, and considered this might be the funniest part of the evening.

You were now convinced it was the funniest part. In the middle of the house, surrounded by people you had never really talked to, you felt silly with your strands of hair and your lip gloss. The alcohol in your drink tasted bitter, but you didn’t know where you could get rid of it without being seen. You weren’t drunk enough to put your anxiety aside and go talk to people, but you weren’t sure you’d be sober enough to leave the party and drive home. You probably could have joined Cregan, who was a friendly acquaintance and could have helped you join conversations, but you were scared of being a burden to him.

Your best option now seemed to sober up until you could go home and find the comfort of your bed. You sought the cold hair of the night, even if it was harsh and slapping your cheeks, for it helped you come to your senses. Cregan’s parents had a luxurious garden but it was now filled with drunk classmates and was the last place you wanted to visit. However, you had noticed at your arrival that there were a few balconies. If you were correct, they were linked to the bedrooms and so you began wandering inside the house to find access outside.

The house did not seem so big during the day, but now that you were alone and using your phone as a flashlight to avoid raising suspicions, it seemed like a castle or worse, a labyrinth. After a few minutes of walking in the dark, hearing and feeling the bass of the amps through the walls, you finally found an empty bedroom with a glass door opening onto the balcony you were dreaming of.

You leaned against the fence, filling your lungs with the cold air of the night that got your blood pumping. Your breath came out with a small puff of steam. The music and voices seemed so far away, indistinguishable buzzing at the back of your mind. You took in the sight of the city by night, the lights of the buildings from afar with the occasional blue and red siren. It was lively, chaotic, and yet at this moment, formed an oasis of peace.

“Are you hiding?”

Jace’s voice coming from behind startled you. You turned around, pressing your hand against your panicked heart. Too lost in your daydream, you had not heard him coming.

“You almost gave me a heart-attack!”

Jace chuckled, taking a step closer. Bathed in moonlight, he seemed to be an ethereal being. His features appeared softer with the pale light, yet his eyes seemed as bright as ever. He was not taking his eyes off you, but it did not give you the feeling of being ogled.

“Sorry about that. At least I can say I set your heart racing.”

Perhaps the little alcohol in your blood was finally having an effect, but you felt bolder all of a sudden. In a normal setting, you probably would have looked away, cleared your throat and changed the subject, but this time you found the strength to maintain eye contact.

“You’d like that?”

The boy seemed taken aback for a second, then amusement shined in his eyes and a smile spread on his lips.

“Maybe,” he murmured and took a sip from his drink. “You didn’t answer my initial question though.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m just taking a break.”

“Sounds like hiding to me.” He leaned by your side. “Overwhelmed?”

You nodded. “I’m not really friends with anyone here so it’s a bit awkward.”

Jace nodded in return. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here. In a good way, I mean.”

You couldn’t mask the smile on your face. “I’d hope so. Were you really that surprised?”

Jace tilted his head to the side. “Honestly yes.”

“Why so?”

“I never really pictured you in this environment. You always seemed too… I don’t know, serious? You don’t exactly remind me of party girls.”

This sentence was like a cold shower. The alcohol had reinforced your emotions that came in waves crashing against the cliffs and leaving the beach destroyed once the tide had receded.

“You never stopped thinking I’m a goodie-two-shoes, did you?” You whispered without even realising it.

“What?”

Perhaps it was the fog that invaded your brain, perhaps it was disillusionment, perhaps it was an insecurity Jace had triggered, but your mouth slurred words out without giving you any chance to control them.

“I remember you calling me a goodie-two-shoes to your friends and although it was hurtful, I thought it was your loss if you didn’t know me, but I honestly thought you had moved on from those preconceived ideas.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Jace frowned. “Is that why you’ve been giving me dirty looks since last year? Just for this?”

“What do you mean ‘just for this’?” Your voice took a desperate tone.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t even know you were listening to me. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You wouldn’t have said it, okay, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have thought it.”

“I said it like, one year ago, and you’ve remained hostile until our English assignment! For just one sentence?”

“Breaking news, words have consequences! When you say something super condescending and unfair, people are bitter, can’t believe it took you this long to learn that.”

Jacaerys sighed. He seemed more irritated than actually angry, and he closed his eyes to regain composure.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I said hurt you to the point you shoot daggers at me for a whole year afterwards. I didn’t think the term “goodie-two-shoes” was that hurtful, you make it sound like it’s a slur.”

“You really sound like a popular guy who has never been picked on in his life before you know?”

Your anger, or whatever it was, had decreased and now you were left with a hollow within your chest. You had really hoped for a minute, when he had flirted with you between the lines, that something might have been blossoming between the two; yet this single conversation felt like you were back to your relationship before the assignment, with your bitterness towards him. In a way, you just wanted him to truly apologise, forgive him and move on. Perhaps that was what had been stopping you from trying anything with him.

Jacaerys was looking at you and you were avoiding his gaze. Only the sounds of the city and the music were breaking the silence. Then out of the blue, you felt Jace’s hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his skin shielding you against the biting cold.

“I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories. Really. In my mind, it wasn’t that bad of a term,” he started explaining. “You were just so serious and nerdy, and I wanted to impress my friends. My goal was not to insult you whatsoever.”

You sighed. “We all are victims of peer pressure, aren’t we?” You marked a pause. “At least we cleared that out.”

“I don’t have any problem with people who are goodie-two-shoes, by the way. I like serious and nerdish girls.”

You jerked your head towards him only to see a smug smile on his face. As much as you wanted to remain a bit distant – just to teach him – you could help to find him irresistibly attractive and his smile was so contagious, you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Really? Do you have any other criteria?” You matched his flirty tone and turned your entire body to face him. That evening had been a roller coaster but if it could settle on this atmosphere, then maybe it had all been worth it.

“Is it too on the nose if I say I like girls who braid their hair? Especially considering it’s not your usual hairstyle.”

You couldn’t help but fiddle with your hair. “Helaena did it. So I assume you like it?”

“I do. It’s fancy, and it prevents strands of hair from hiding your face. This happens way too often and it’s a shame.”

As he said this sentence, he fixed a strand of hair that had managed to escape the intricate pattern of your braid. His hand brushed against your cheek and you melted in the contact as a shiver ran down your spine, which Jace noticed.

“Do you want to go back inside? It’s freezing out there.” He must have seen your hesitation because he took a step closer and immediately added, “I’m not letting you go.”

Beneath the gentleness of his promise, you recognised the distinctive sparkle of desire in his eyes and it set you ablaze. You went to reach for his hand which he let you do without resistance. If anything, he even got a little closer, to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You’re not even sure who closed the distance between you two. One second, you were scanning his eyes for the smallest sign he was about to pull back and reject you. The next second, his lips were on yours, warm and bitter from the alcohol and his hands fell possessively on your waist. All of a sudden he was everywhere, overwhelming your senses, and you would have spent a lifetime against his lips.

A giggle escaped your lips when you broke the kiss – or perhaps he broke it? You weren’t too sure anymore, this kiss had been more intoxicating than the alcohol at the party. Jace brought you a little closer, smiling from ear to ear.

You got on tiptoes and whispered: “Do you really care about the party?”

Jace’s smile grew devilish as he led you inside.

+ 1.

Sneaking Jace into your house had been fun and exciting – you had both agreed that it was a much better idea than to sneak inside his house with all of his siblings. You had chuckled on the way and blessed the fact that your parent’s bedroom was on the opposite side as yours.

The things that had ensued were exactly what you had been expecting when Jace led you through the house to get to his car – after swearing he was sober enough to drive. Actually no, they had surpassed your expectations. He had been soft, and unrelenting, and had sent you over the edge.

However, one thing that was not a part of the plans you had made while observing Jace’s perfect side profile during the ride home was how much you would talk.

You have no idea how long you remained in his arms, your back against his chest, talking. You felt safe and comforted in his embrace, the darkness and the stillness of the bedroom making it ideal for late-night confessions. You had talked about everything, from school to your friends, your insecurities and your dreams and everything that crossed your mind. You had even brought back this debate over the best Greek romance, speaking about it in an appeased way until sunlight poked through the windows.

You both fell asleep when the sun began rising in the sky, still cuddling – it was like you were made for this, your bodies fitting perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. When you opened your eyes again, the room was filled with light. You freaked out for a second when you felt hands around your waist, but memories from last night assailed your mind and you calmed down, matching Jace’s serene heartbeat.

He woke up not long after, greeting you with an endearing awkwardness, and you did your best to make him feel comfortable. Fortunately, your parents had already left – it was common for them to work on the weekends, leaving you alone in the house – and you cooked breakfast together. This little moment of domesticity left you longing for more, more quick glances, more arms brushing against the other, more lopsided smiles.

Still, the tension, barely perceptible, had not entirely left as you enjoyed your meal. Conversations went smoothly, jumping from one subject to the other without a significant gap, yet none of them mentioned the elephant in the room – what had happened between you two and more importantly, what you were going to do next.

Things did look better in the morning, and it was clear now that was you felt towards Jace was more than simple attraction. You liked him, if not more, and the idea of being in an official relationship was tempting. Asking him, though, was out of the question. You could handle being a one-time thing with him, but you’d forever regret scaring him off with your desire for commitment. No matter how hard you tried to scan him and his body language, you could not read his feelings and were left wandering, a soft torture made out of knife-winged butterflies.

You told Jace he could take a shower and used this time to text Helaena and ask her for advice, rushing to your phone and typing as fast as possible, relying on your friend to decipher your typos. The sound of the water running stopped after a few minutes and you couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting to the boy, and how he must look like covered in water. With the darkness of the night, you had only caught a glimpse of his body yet you knew that it was a sight you could not tired of.

You chatted for a few more minutes, standing in front of each other several feet apart, like a glass window was separating you. You wanted to offer him to stay for the afternoon, maybe watch a film, but Jace had told you he was going to go before.

Reluctantly, you had accompanied him to your front door. You had lost all hope that he might want something more. If that was the case, he would have said something already, wouldn’t he? Yet there was a longing in his eyes as you looked at each other on the threshold, an intensity you could only assimilate to your own.

You were about to close the door when he said your name softly, like a prayer. You interrupted your motion, looking back at him.

“Yes?” You answered in the same tone.

“It’s just…” He hesitated. I doubt you’re interested but if you ever wanna go out with me as a date and not just a hang-out…”

“Jace,” you interrupted him. “Do you think I’m not interested in you? And there I thought I acted like a lovesick teenager whenever I was around you,” a nervous laugh escaped your throat. “I would be more than happy to go out with you.”

You saw tension disappear from Jace’s body in a subtle manner, the unclenching of his jaw, the small sigh that left his lips. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, I can’t believe I lost that much time,” he confessed.

You took a step towards him to place your hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. I also believed you weren’t interested in me.”

“Great minds think alike, right?” He winked, quoting the sentence you had left on his Google doc, and the memory of this foolish action flustered you.

“Apparently so.”

“I’d like to take you on a date, soon. Call me old-fashioned, but I meant to do things well, not cutting corners. What happened yesterday was unexpected. Welcomed, but unexpected.”

You giggled. “Then I’m free tomorrow, gentleman.”

“I’ll pick you up at two?”

“Sounds great. See you tomorrow” You smiled at him and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before closing the door with a cheesy smile on your lips that matched Jace’s.

You wandered in the empty house for a few minutes on cloud nine until your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it absentmindedly and your smile widened when you read the message you had received.

[Jace] See you tomorrow princess

taglist: @housetargaryenloyalist @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @cregnstark @eldrith @benjinotes @divinesolas @astrxq

[hxlda-hxlda]

thank u thank u @fiddleleafedfig for the tag !!

nine people you want to get to know better

last song: when i opened the tag, 'alien blues' by vundabar but currently i'm listening to hozier 'would that i'. as of finishing writing this, radiohead. there you have it.

favourite colour: a deep cherry red. the kind that would make a really lovely lipstick gloss.

last movie/tv show: i'm terrible with shows and movies, but i was watching the bowie doco (moonage daydream) the other day, keeping on brand ik. i also love british comedians so 'would i lie to you?' is probably up there as well.

sweet/savoury/spicy: sweet if it is really well done. i'm talking specifically that one pub down by where i live that for some reason makes the best chocolate lava cake ever. if not, savoury forever.

last thing i googled: beatles guitar songs for beginners. i've decided to relearn guitar and i'm back to the absolute basics.

current obsession: concerts! this is a long-standing love but it is very evident lately. the way concerts down here work is that no one comes for years bc of the trek to aus, and then randomly there's this one month period where everybody is here at once and suddenly i have to choose between favs. that has been this month! hard on the bank account but my soul is thriving with a concert every other week. saw noah kahan, it was life-altering.

last book: i'm between the '50 yrs of led zeppelin' biography by mick wall, and 'anna karenina' by tolstoy atm. (adding it) last fic: blends by rvltn909. finished it yesterday and oh my god. the crime that was me putting it off.

looking forward to: still a little ways away, but i'm moving to america for (my) winter-spring!! i've work in the states, which i'm thrilled abt. it also means i am tracking down artists who refuse to concert in aus (hozier for the love of god) and trying to sneak them in as well.

np tags (apologies if you've already been tagged): @fairylittlebitch @alltoounwellll @the-moon-says-hi @just--vi @whyistarchaser @bellaxisworld @feminist-cult-following @none-of-it-was-accidental @svnflowermoon + ofc anybody else who wants to. tag me. let me know you all.