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chloe-petrichors · 2 months

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cradling constellations // jace x reader

when rhaenyra brings her family to court to celebrate the king's fiftieth name day, there was but one thing on your mind: getting to see jace, the boy you'd loved in secret, once more.

whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. —emily brontë

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!aunt!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon-typical incest, canon-au (it's viserys' birthday party baby), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s) idiots in love, instant attraction/love at first (second) sight, childhood sweethearts (kinda?), soulmate vibes, love confessions, switching povs, smut (mdni !) including masturbation (m), p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mild marriage kink if that’s even a thing, body worship, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, mild overstimulation, soft dom vibes, jace being a tits man. word count; 15k+ (oops) notes; me, obsessed with jace? more likely than u think. this whole fic spawned from the fact that i noticed jace's freckles on a gif and lost my gd mind. this was meant to be a quick smut fic. and then i took 11k+ words to get to the smut part. i'm sorry (i'm not). this is totally self-indulgent, soulmates, love at first sight kinda fluff-to-smut and i regret nothing. way too much time of writing this was me trawling through the asoiaf wiki pages to find details that are relevant for one whole sentence. why am i this way. valyrian is pulled straight from a translator i found online, pls let me know if you notice any errors! requests; are open !

the first time you laid eyes on jacaerys velaryon, you knew he was something special.

you had just been children, then, uncertain of each other due to the discontent between your families. but he had been kind to you, dark eyes warm, and it had been an easy thing to be kind in return. your brothers make it difficult, of course, as they seem to do with everything they get involved in. aegon had been the worst at first, spouting off the same vitriol your mother had always whispered into your ears, but aemond had not been far behind him.

after the events of laena’s funeral and the loss of aemond’s eye, the hostilities only grow and grow. helaena keeps herself apart from most of it by virtue of her typically distant manner, but your brothers insist on drawing you into the same arguments again and again. it's tedious, laborious, but they are your family.

jace and luke are too, of course, not that anyone else seems to want to admit it. for all that they are velaryon’s by name (and strong in heart, mayhaps, yes), they are your nephews. your brothers only seem interested in remembering this when it serves them, however — which is usually when they’re lording it over the dark-haired boys.

in truth, the velaryon’s are hardly innocent either. it seems like the two sets of boys bring out the absolute worse in each other without fail, and it’s usually left to you to try and be the voice of reason.

away from your brothers’ taunts, jace is like a different boy entirely. endlessly curious and ceaselessly kind, the brunette seems to always have time to talk and jape with you. your friendship grows surprisingly easy as children, and with early adulthood comes the bloom of a different kind of affection, too. you never say anything, knowing all too well that if your brothers catch even a whisper of your feelings that there will be no end of hells to pay.

it matters little, regardless. your mother will never tolerate a betrothal between the two of you and you know better than to even attempt to broach such a topic. it had been sheer miracle that she hadn’t tried marrying you off to aemond after securing aegon and helaena’s marriage, and you aren’t willing to tempt fate by giving her ideas now. so what if you spend countless nights dreaming of freckled skin and dark hair? it matters not in the scheme of things.

rhaenyra flees kings landing after daemon’s return to westeros, leaving you feeling strangely bereft without your nephews’ company. years go by with no contact from your sister’s family, and so you let your old daydreams fall to the wayside. there’s no use dwelling on what you can’t have, and no point bringing it up since even now just a mention of luke or jace is enough to inflame aemond’s temper.

and then, of course, the news comes that rhaenyra is returning to court for the king’s fiftieth name day. there are great feasts and celebrations planned in honour of your father, which you privately think silly considering it’s unlikely he would be well enough to attend half the festivities. still, there’s no denying your excitement at the idea of seeing jace again. he would be a man grown, now, his twentieth name day having passed only a few moons ago.

for once the majority of your family will be under one roof, and you are certain it will end in disaster — but you intend to enjoy it while you can.

going flying the morning of the velaryons arrival is perhaps not your smartest idea.

your nerves wake you well before dawn. you feel as if you’re going to crawl out of your skin if you don’t do something, and you know your chances for flying will be limited with the celebrations expected to start tomorrow. so you decided to take the chance while you can, dressing quickly in your riding gear before creeping to the dragon pit well before any of your family wake.

silverwing likes it when you take her for unexpected flights, so she makes no complaint when you have the dragon keepers release her. you go through the motions of saddling her yourself, as you always do, taking the chance to reinforce the bond with your dragon.

silverwing hadn’t been your hatched dragon. the egg that you had slept beside as a babe had never hatched, just as aemond’s and helaena’s hadn’t. it had infuriated aemond when you were children, that jace and luke’s dragons hatched while he was left without. it had made him an easy target for the other boys; aegon had often led the others in riling him about his lack of dragon until he had claimed vhagar. you can admit now that the others had oft been cruel to him in their japing, and it had ended poorly for everyone involved.

your claiming of silverwing had been incredibly boring in comparison. she had found you, in truth, a year after aemond claimed vhagar. she’d been your great-grandmother the good queen alysanne’s dragon before your own, and had not taken a rider since the queen’s death. she’d flown from the dragonmont to find you, and you’ve been nigh on inseparable since. your mother despairs over it, hating how her often her ‘perfect daughter’ has shown up to court late with windswept hair and flushed cheeks.

but, to you, flying is freedom.

there’s nothing else like it in the world; the sensation of silverwing beneath you, the seven kingdoms at your fingertips, and only the sky above. your mother has never really let go of her fear of the dragons, and you can understand it in a way; she is no targaryen, and she’ll never know what it is to bond with a dragon, to have that presence so alien and yet so familiar nudging against the corners of your mind. any attempts to explain it to her are met with bemusement and wariness, and you’d long ago learned to stop bringing it up.

silverwing’s joy to fly merges into your own as you climb atop her, running a soothing hand over the gleaming silver spikes at her neck as you adjust the straps. her impatience thrums loudly through the bond as you settle yourself into the saddle, and you feel her heart beat through you like a second pulse as your own anticipation rises.

“ivestragī īlva sōvegon, ñuha raqiros! [let us fly, my friend!]”

she needs no further nudging than that, and with a delighted roar she launches into the air. your laughter is stolen by the wind as she beats her wings, propelling you higher and higher before sweeping over the towering peaks of the red keep. with a shouted instruction she banks sharply to the left, flying out over blackwater bay as the sun finally crests the horizon. the dark sea lights up with reds and golds beneath you, the sky gloriously blue above, and silverwing’s distinctive scales shine in the breaking dawn.

a glorious morning, you think, and as the two of you climb higher to the sky you feel all your nerves and excitement for anything but the flight leave you. this is what your mother will never understand; flying is an escape, yes, but not from your duties as she assumes it is. this is an escape from your worries, from the petty machinations of court. in the sky with your dragon, you need worry only about how chill the wind will be, or if aemond is out with vhagar, who’s a grumpy old beast at the best of times and silverwing is feeling mischievous.

you find peace, here, in the sky. this is what you were born for.

long minutes pass as you fly leisurely, circling over the bay and the keep and back again in ever widening circles. sometimes silverwing dives just to do so, plunging so close to the blackwater that you could reach out and skim your hand over the dark depths. you lose track of time as the two of you fly, contentment bleeding across the bond so completely you can’t even tell which one of you it’s coming from.

a dragon’s cry in the distance catches your attention, and silverwing pulls up from where she’d been ducking her head into the water to snatch fish. she propels you rapidly higher into the air, crying out in response as you break through the thin cloud cover. you expect to find aegon’s dragon; sunfyre is the only dragon silverwing likes, rather than tolerates, to be making such a noise in greeting.

but it’s an unfamiliar dragon that greets you, olive green scales shining with the damp from the high altitudes. your mind races as you struggle to place it, and it’s only when you catch sight of a head of dark curls astride the dragon that you realise who it is.

vermax.

and jacaerys.

your heart skips in your chest, silverwing’s unexpected excitement tangling with your own nerves as she swoops towards the much smaller dragon. it’s only her sheer happiness that stops you from panicking or shouting a command to halt in valyrian, and moments later you recall she’d have known vermax from her time on dragonstone.

she somersaults over and around vermax playfully, and you release an exhilarated laugh in response as you cling tightly to the saddle. you see only snatches of jace as your dragons fly complicated patterns around each other, but the quick flashes you do get find an easy smile on his face.

the dragons spend a long while flying together, racing and diving and spiralling to new heights. they move so quickly that you have no chance to try and greet jacaerys, can offer nothing more than quick smiles as you pass him. it gives you the time for your nerves to settle back down, time to reassure yourself that any childhood feelings are long faded and that you will be able to act perfectly composed when it is time to greet him.

eventually you realise your dragon is not going to land until you tell her too, and vermax is clearly just as willing to chase after the larger she-dragon for as long as she is willing to be chased.

“māzigon, silverwing. istiti tegun [come, silverwing. we must land],” you shout, laughing again when the dragon whines her displeasure. she listens regardless, soaring down in tightening circles with vermax following close on your tail. her landing in the dragon pit is far from smooth, but you’re well used to compensating for the jostling as she settles onto the ground once more.

you’re quick in freeing yourself from the saddle, murmuring warm thanks and praise to your dragon as you walk to the side of her great head to meet a single burning eye. “kirimvose, ñuha raqiros. kesi sōvegon arlī aderī [thank you, my friend. we will fly again soon],” you tell her, and she responds with a content grumble as she nudges her head gently against your chest in affection.

you leave the dragon keepers to return her to her cave, instead turning to watch as jace shares his own goodbyes with his dragon. you take the chance to look at him, properly look, and find yourself suddenly warring with self-consciousness and a burning in your chest.

despite the acrobatics of the dragons, he looks perfectly put together with his dark curls brushing his shoulders and a pleasing tan to his skin. you fear you must look a ruin, with your hair undoubtedly a mess and cheeks flushed from the cold bite of the wind. your breath is still a touch laboured from the exertion of the flight, while he looks perfectly composed in his fancy black and red doublet. you curse the old gods and the new that you’d picked out your old riding gear this morning — comfortable, yes, but certainly not ideal for greeting the heir to the heir and the man you’d once daydreamed about marrying.

you push the thoughts away with determined stubbornness, refusing to dwell on the warmth in your chest when jace finally turns to look at you. he’s grown, you note immediately, now standing at least a head taller than you. any traces of baby fat have left him, leaving behind a strong, square jaw and strong yet slim shoulders. his dark eyes are warm, though, and his smile friendly as he takes you in.

you dip instinctually into a curtsey, a perfectly respectable greeting ready on your lips, but you’re startled into straightening back to standing when jace laughs.

“come now, princess,” he says, fond and teasing he approaches you. he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make the title sound more like an endearment. “since when have we been ones for formality?”

it sets you at ease immediately, tension relaxing from your shoulders as you beam at him. “i suppose we never have been very good at that, have we?” you let your eyes skip over him again, something like relief settling in your bones at the sight of him. “it’s good to see you again, jace.”

“aye,” he returns, dark eyes sparkling. “it is good to see you, indeed.”

for a long moment he simply looks at you, and it makes that peculiar warmth in your chest blaze a little brighter. there’s something in his face that you’ve never seen there before — but then you think of course there is. you haven’t seen him in so long there’s probably all kinds of things about you him you no longer know. it aches, almost, to think it, but in a way he’s a stranger to you; a man with the kind eyes of the boy you’d loved in secret, once.

you clear your throat as you drop your eyes from his stare, glancing at the bustling keepers as they tend to your dragons instead as you cast about for something to say.

“are the rest of your family not flying in?” you query after a moment.

he shakes his head, dark curls swaying with the movement. “no, arrax and tyraxes are still too small to fly luke and joff for such a journey, and mother would rather stay with my brothers on the ship.”

you nod in acceptance, shifting slightly on the spot. “well then, let me be the first to welcome you back to king’s landing, my prince.” you take the formality out of your tone with a playful wink, and are gratified to see the way he chuckles at your antics.

“i had hoped you’d be the first i’d see.” he admits this casually, as if this doesn’t set your heart and mind racing. “i have missed you, aunt.”

you duck your head again to try and hide the smile spreading across your face. you tell yourself sternly to stop acting like some lovesick child, all the while that small flame continues to burn away inside of you. “and i you, nephew.” you glance up at him shyly from beneath your lashes, teeth worrying at your bottom lip, and you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement.

he’s the one to clear his throat, this time, stepping a half-pace away from you and gesturing for you to proceed him. “shall we head to the keep, then? my mother’s ship should have arrived by now and we wouldn’t want to miss the formal welcome.”

“as you say,” you agree, and the two of you set off.

you spend the long walk to the keep catching up on the long years between you. you’d expected the time apart to be like a gulf between you, a canyon that could not be crossed, but if anything it’s the opposite. it’s as if you’d last seen each other only hours ago. it should startle you, how simple it feels to fall into your old friendship, but you don’t have it in you to be surprised. that’s always been the thing with jace, after all — it’s easy. being around him, speaking to him, listening to his odd tangents. it all comes as natural to you as breathing, as if there’s a part of you that was just born knowing him.

he's dodging your questions as you finally arrive at the keep, having let slip something about an old secret from the days of your childhood that he’s never shared with you. it makes something flutter in your chest, the way he looks at you as he says it. the way he’s looked at you the whole time, in fact, has you having to bite back a smile. he looks at you as if he is looking at something precious, expression tender and fond and uncomplicated. it threatens to steal your breath again, and so you make an effort to try and act as unaffected as possible, because he cannot mean it in the way you think you might want him too.

“oh, but you simply must tell me!” you wheedle cheerfully, a mischievous smile on your lips. “you wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, my prince?”

you pout at him, fluttering your lashes in the way you usually do when trying to get your way with your brothers. jace swallows audibly at the sight, some emotion you can’t read flickering across his eyes as his gaze drops to your mouth and then lower again before returning to your eyes. something in his expression makes you flush, cheeks burning as your lips part slowly. a heat rises in you, unbidden, as he steps ever so slightly closer into your space. you’re overwhelmed with the smell of him; sea salt and dragon smoke and something almost woodsy underneath it, something entirely jace.

he murmurs your name so quietly you almost miss it over the sounds of courtyard. his hand twitches as if to reach for you as he ducks his head slightly, and you think if you lifted yours just so you’d be able to brush your lips over the strong line of his jaw. you realise suddenly how much you want to — how much you want to drag your tongue over his skin and taste.

oh.

you want him. that peculiar feeling that had been burning in your chest — you recognise the desire for what it is, now. the easy camaraderie that you’d fell into on the walk to the keep subsides in the wake of it, and abruptly all you can think of is what his mouth will feel like on your own. the palpable tension between you makes your hands tremble with the urge to touch, heart pounding so loudly in your ears it drowns out anything that isn’t him as the rest of the courtyard fades away.

you sway the barest inch closer, inhaling his scent deeply, and watch as jace’s nostrils flare in response. with a shaky breath you lift your chin, eyes dropping to his parted lips, and you bite your bottom lip as his tongue sweeps over his own.

“jace…”

“brother! there you are!”

luke’s voice startles you both back to reality as you spring apart. you hadn’t realised just how close you’d gotten, your chests almost brushing with every breath, until the gap between you widens. you drop your eyes to your feet, cheeks blazing with embarrassment as you realise how close you’d come to kissing him in an extremely public place. you chide yourself internally for forgetting yourself, and take another second to gather your composure before lifting your head with a smile.

“hello, nephew,” you greet luke warmly, doing your best to ignore the way jace’s eyes burns into the side of your face. “it is very good to see you again.”

“aunt!” luke fairly cheers, and you note how the youth still clings to his face. while certainly older than the last time you’d seen him, he still seems like a child to you. his limbs are long and gangly, in that awkward stage at the cusp of adulthood where he’s not quite grown into himself yet. he bounds closer, drawing you into a hug that you allow and return with a fond laugh.

“luke, honestly,” jace tuts, shaking his head as the two of you separate. “we’re at court, now. at least try to remember your manners.”

the younger boy winces. “ah, right, yes.” he sketches a quick but perfect bow your way. “it is a great honour to see you once more, princess.” he flashes a cheeky smile and a wink your way as he straightens out, and you press your hand to your mouth to smother a giggle at the exasperated look on jace’s face at his brother’s antics. he’s hardly one to talk, you think, considering how quickly he had dispensed with manners when greeting you.

in return, you dip into a practiced if impish curtsey. “it is a sincere pleasure to see you as well, prince lucerys.”

luke does giggle, then, as jace rolls his eyes so hard you think they’re at risk of falling out of his head. despite his dramatics, you spot the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he watches you jape with his brother.

“the queen is looking for you, dear aunt,” luke says after the greetings are done, and your amusement flees you as your stomach drops.

it’s only then you realise that with both luke and jace being here, you’ve certainly missed the official welcome of princess rhaenyra back to court. you wince at the thought of your mother’s ire, resigning yourself to a long lecture about your responsibilities and how dragon riding is ‘not one of them’. jace catches your expression, concern creasing his face as his brows furrow.

“alright?” he checks, and you do your best to offer him a reassuring smile.

“yes, i’m sure all will be well.” you hesitate a moment before offering a one-shouldered shrug, ignoring the voice in your head that sounds far too much like your mother telling you how unladylike such a motion is. “i expect my mother will be displeased with me for missing the official welcome, but the festivities will surely distract her quick enough.”

luke and jace both offer you a commiserating smile as the three of you head into the keep. you expect your mother will be waiting in her solar, which is on a close route to the guest suites set aside for the visiting royals, and so you walk with the velaryons as far as you can. when it comes time to part, jace lingers at the entry of the hall as luke continues down the corridor. his dark eyes are fixed to yours so intensely it steals your breath as you slow to a stop as well.

“i’ll see you at the feast,” he says quietly, capturing your hand in his much larger one and bringing it to his mouth. your breath hitches in your chest, eyes widening as he brushes his lips tenderly over your knuckles. your lips part in surprise, tingles racing up your arm from where his mouth makes contact with your skin. before you have chance to respond, jace dips into a sweeping bow and then bids you farewell, leaving you staring after him for a long moment.

well. if your mother doesn’t kill you, you think jace certainly will.

jace sinks into the hot water of the bath with a deep sigh of relief.

after meeting with his mother to explain why he’d been late to the formal greetings — or, rather, offer excuses as to why he’d been late, since he doesn’t think his mother will take well to the idea he was so busy enjoying himself flying with you that the thought of any formal welcome party left his mind entirely — he’d sought his chambers. the bath had been ready and waiting for him, tendrils of steam wafting from the clear water, and he’d wasted no time in shedding his clothes. he’s keen to wash the dragon stink from his skin before the feast, and he makes quick work of scrubbing his skin clean. when he’s done, he allows himself to relax against the metal of the tub, arms draped carelessly over the metal rim as he soaks.

king’s landing from dragonstone is not too long a journey on dragon back, but flying for such a stretch causes its own particular aches. vermax had enjoyed the chance to stretch his wings, at least, and had enjoyed the playful flight with silverwing even more.

he can admit to himself he’d enjoyed it, too, the sight of you astride your dragon lighting something within him. it’s been so long since he’d seen you, not since the aftermath of laena’s funeral, and he hadn’t been prepared for how the sight of you — breathless and flush and beaming at him — would make him feel. he’d almost managed to push back his boyhood adoration and childhood daydreams of marrying you one day with the years passing, but seeing you again brings it all rushing back and he feels as hopelessly enamoured with you now as he did as a child.

you’ve grown well, there’s no denying that. where childhood had left you sometimes awkward and gangly, you’ve become a woman grown now with all the curves and delights that come with it. he’d been embarrassed at how hard it had been to pull his gaze from you on the trip to the keep, but you’d not seemed to notice. too occupied with filling the air between you with light chatter, you’d been oblivious to the way his eyes had dragged over your form again and again.

you just — you’re so unlike anyone else he knows. he’d let himself forget how lovely you were, but there was no way to ignore it now. riding the high of your flight and genuinely happy to see him, you’d been like something out of a dream. your face had been as open to him as ever, plainly delighted to see him, and seeing you had eased some ache he’d become so used to he’d not even know it was there until he felt the lack of it.

he’s not some foolish child. he knows better than to think of things like love when his head must lie with his duty. but the thought remains regardless, lingering in the back of his mind that you would be as easy to love now as you had been when you were younger. it had been a childish love then, of course; innocent and sweet in the ways only children could be. but it had been there, unspoken and unacted upon, but no less real for it.

you’re not children anymore. it would be impossible to think otherwise with the way your riding gear had clung flatteringly to your chest and hips. your mouth looked so pretty stretched into a smile, a smile for him, and he thinks it’s a testament to his restraint that he’d not kissed you on the spot when you’d pouted so prettily up at him. he’d thought for a fleeting moment that perhaps you were going to kiss him with the way your eyes had darkened, how you’d gravitated into his space as if without intention.

heat pools in his stomach as he thinks about how the neckline of your riding dress had cut low enough to allow him a peak at your chest, heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. he wonders what your mouth would taste like, what noises you would make if he’d slid his tongue against your own. gods, he feels like a green boy seeing a woman for the first time — almost undone at just the thought of you. he won’t be able to get through the welcome feast like this, he thinks, so on edge with his lust for you burning him from the inside out.

it’s not even a conscious choice to curl his fingers around his cock, half-hard already as he thinks of you. jace’s head tips back against the rim of the bath, eyes drifting closed as a quiet gasp escapes him. the warm water eases his way as he strokes himself, and he lets himself imagine it’s your slick, instead.

he pictures you before him, pretends it’s your hand teasing at the skin at the head of his cock. your hands are so small, so dainty, he thinks you probably wouldn’t be able to wrap them all the way around him. he imagines they’re a little calloused — soft, mostly, but with the fingertips just rough enough from years spent riding and caring for your dragon. they’d drag so deliciously against his skin, and you’d take to the task with the same voracious enthusiasm you do with everything else. you’d watch him closely, pick up on the cues of his pleasure, and he’d unravel for you so quickly it’d be embarrassing if it was anyone else.

“fuck,” he hisses out, thumb dragging over the liquid leaking copiously from his tip. his head tips back even further, water dripping from his curls onto the stone floor as he chases his release. his imagining splinters into disconnected fantasies; you, on your knees with your mouth stretched around him, lashes damp with reflexive tears as your eyes fix on his. you, sprawled beneath him and writhing as he feasts on your cunt like a man starved. you, babbling in high valyrian as he sinks into the tight wet heat of you. you, clenching and shuddering around his cock as you come for him, blazing and beautiful. you, you, you.

his release hits him hard, a low groan tearing from his throat as his hips thrust up into his hand as he drags out those last few moments of pleasure. his panting breaths sound loud in the silence of his chambers, and jace is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he is alone. there is, of course, no trace of you.

he knows in that moment he has to have you. he cannot tolerate the thought of anyone else — not for himself, and certainly not for you. he wants you as his wife, his queen, the mother of his children. jace doesn’t care how he must do it — as long as you’re as willing as he is, he is going to make you his.

the feast has started by the time jace arrives.

his indulgence had cost him time, and then he’d spent longer than usual readying himself while trying to ignore the fact he was doing so only to impress you. by the time he makes it to the hall his family are already seated and the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune. his eyes seek you instantly, and he resists the urge to frown in disappointment as he sees you sat between helaena and aemond. he’d hoped to sit beside you and use this time to see if there was any hint of you returning his feelings. no matter — there would be time enough later. if he has his way, there’ll be all the time in the world.

you look beautiful, he notes. you’re dressed in your usual deep green, the gown cut flatteringly for your shape. your face is animated and happy as you chat to aemond, and though he finds the idea of anyone enjoying that grumpy prick’s presence bizarre, he enjoys the sight of you so at ease.

as he approaches the head table and the empty seat between his mother and luke, your eyes linger on him. he’s gratified by the way you light up when you spot him, offering him a warm smile in welcome for all that you’re quickly entangled into a conversation with your sister. it eases some of the sting at finding you unavailable, and he’s helpless but to smile back at you even when your gaze slides back to helaena.

luke eyes him strangely as he settles into his seat but says nothing as jace reaches for a goblet of wine. his mother greets him absently, entangled as she is in conversation with the king, and he takes the moment to glance out at the hall.

it’s a relatively small feast. large enough to not cause offence to the heir to the throne, but not so grand as to detract from the festivities planned for the next fortnight. he recognises a few faces in the crowd, people from different houses from across the kingdoms. the king’s birthday celebrations are no small affair, and he spots representatives from all the great houses as well as some of the more minor ones.

it makes him want to slump in his seat, for all that he keeps his posture straight. he knows the next few weeks will be full of politicking and double speak, and it grates. as the heir to the heir, jace knows it’s partially his responsibility to ensure their alliances still stand while seeking out any news one that might present themselves. he has no doubt that some of the lords in this crowd will have brought their daughters, planning to parade them in front of him and his brothers in hopes they might pick one as their betrothed.

his lack of betrothal has been a point of contention for many of the court, he knows. most had assumed he would be betrothed to his stepsister baela, and he’d thought the same for years. it was only when his mother had confided that baela had no interest in being queen and, in fact, was so strongly opposed to the idea that she swore to fly to essos and never be seen again if they tried marrying her to him that he realised just why such a betrothal had never been announced.

it had left him free, in a way, to pursue his own desires; without a betrothal attached to him he’d shed any guilt about seeking company at the pleasure houses. but, in turn, it had left him open to the machinations of the other houses who all sought to have their blood on the iron throne. it’s incredibly tedious, but he knows he must grin and bear it for the sake of his mother and his house.

the food arrives then, and he busies himself with the meal and talking to his siblings. his grandsire makes a speech welcoming his daughter and her family home, and jace notes the sour faces of alicent’s sons. they keep their tongues, at least, which shows a maturity from them he truthfully hadn’t expected. perhaps they’ve grown just as you have, he thinks, but dismisses the thought when aemond catches his eye and only sneers in response to jace’s tentative smile.

he's often wondered at the conflict between the two sides of the family. the animosity now he can pinpoint, of course; aemond losing his eye. but there had been years before that of tense, standoffish behaviour interspersed with camaraderie when everyone seemed to forget they weren’t meant to be friends. he remembers playing pranks with aegon while luke trailed after them, and he remembers sitting with helaena while she perused the dirt for bugs.

he remembers you, most of all. kind and fearless and smart, you’d enamoured him from the moment he was old enough to recognise girls were different to boys in interesting ways. even before then you’d been fast friends, something in your similarly mischievous behaviour drawing you into each other’s orbit. he’s always been drawn to you, he thinks, to the uncomplicated joy you took in your life. there was so much to be miserable about, so much duty on all your shoulders, but you always found something to smile over. your unfailing optimism would no doubt be irritating to some, but to him it has always been one of his favourite things about you.

his gaze, predictably, shifts to you. he startles to find you looking at him already. you flush immediately as your eyes lock, presumably embarrassed at being caught, and he enjoys the colour it brings to your cheeks. you don’t drop his stare, though, not until helaena says something to draw your attention back to her once again. he catches sight of a private little quirk of your lips as your head turns, and something like satisfaction settles in his chest as he hides his own smile in his goblet.

perhaps this feast won’t be as tedious as he’d feared.

“are you enjoying the festivities, princess?”

jace’s voice pulls you from where you’ve been staring into your wine as if it holds all the secrets of the world. you’ve lost count of how many goblets you’ve had, chattering away with your siblings before aegon had started to become cruel in his inebriation and you’d all opted to split apart through the hall. you glance up to find the velaryon prince standing before you, hands perched loosely on the hilt of his sword. he looks unfairly handsome, you think, with his tumble of curls and well-fitted doublet, and something about the slight smirk on his face makes you think he knows it.

“i am enjoying them well enough,” you allow, flicking your gaze from his to look out at the dance floor. aemond is dancing with helaena, aegon far too deep into his cups to bother thinking of his wife. your mother is as tense as she has been since you’d found her earlier; her stepdaughter’s arrival to court has set her incredibly on edge, and the lecture she’d given you earlier had certainly been one of her worst. and your father is oblivious to it all, simply too pleased at the presence of his favoured daughter to care about the way the rest of his family are fracturing apart.

he's not been a good father to you, the king. he’s called you and helaena rhaenyra more than once over the years, and even when his eyes are you on you, you never feel like it’s you he sees. your mother had tried to soothe the ache of his absence, of his blatant favour for a woman who was not here, but as the years stretched on even she had seemed to fade further and further away from you all. for so long it’s just been the four of you, clinging to each other and tearing each other apart in equal measure. you’ve oft thought that daeron is the luckiest of you, able to thrive at the hightower and away from the mess of your family.

you pause at the maudlin turn of your thoughts, peering contemplatively into your wine again before offering jace a slightly sheepish smile. “i… fear i may have indulged in too much wine,” you admit, startling a laugh from the darkhaired prince.

it’s aegon’s fault, you decide; before he’d gotten belligerently drunk he’d been so cheerful, seemingly pleased to have the pressure of being the eldest targaryen child in court off of his shoulders. in his cheer he had plied you with wine, laughing and japing with an arm over your shoulder as you reminisced on simpler times of your childhood. happy to see him so, you’d not resisted, but now you find yourself regretting those choices as your thoughts tumble sluggishly through your mind.

jace shakes his head fondly at you, reaching out to carefully steal your goblet away. his fingers brush against yours as he does so, the barest of touches and yet enough to set your heart racing as you blink slowly up at him. he sips from your wine deliberately, amber eyes darkening as he holds your stare, and your lips part with an unsteady breath. something about him drinking your wine from your cup has your stomach fluttering pleasantly.

gods, i want him.

the thought is enough to startle you, heat suffusing your cheeks as you avert your gaze. jace doesn’t, though, and you can feel the weight of his stare on you like a tangible thing. it makes your skin prickle with warmth, and you lurch a touch unsteadily to your feet before you can say anything silly like ‘kiss me, please’.

“i think i should retire to my chambers before i make a drunken fool of myself,” you announce, fingers smoothing over the green velvet of your dress.

“i’ll escort you,” jace returns, tone leaving no room for argument.

he sets aside the wine and offers you his arm, quirking an eyebrow as if in challenge. you hesitate for barely a second, taking a steadying breath, before looping your arm through his and allowing him to lead you through the crowd towards the open doors. the woodsy smell of him you’d noticed before is clearer, now, and you take another deep breath of the scent. it calms your nerves and yet inflames your desire, and your fingers tighten infinitesimally against his bicep.

you stop at the doors of the feasting chamber for long enough to let ser erryk know that you’re retiring for the evening, leaving it to him to pass the message on to your mother, and then you and jace are alone in the halls of the keep.

of course, you’re not truly alone. guards litter the corridors and even at this late hour servants bustle along, busy with their chores. but in the quiet of the keep as jace leads you to your rooms, you can almost imagine yourself alone with him. the thought threatens to overwhelm you, mad fantasies of him tugging you into a dark alcove to devour you flashing through your mind, and you scold yourself internally.

you’re really very cross with aegon. he and his wine have left you in this state, too far into your cups to keep control of your dangerous wonderings. if only he had not kept calling for more of that gods-be-damned arbor gold, you’d have been able to keep your wits about you. you’d wanted to dance at the feast, too, mayhaps even with jacaerys but at the very least with your brothers. instead, you’re being led back to your rooms like a child who’s had their first taste of wine with dinner and let it go to their head.

jace’s presence helps your intoxication little. seeing him again, touching him, smelling him — it’s all too much when all your defences are down like this. you feel like a girl again, staring breathlessly after him and so full of certainty that you love him, and it’s just— ridiculous. you’ve spent mere hours in his presence and you’re like some lovelorn idiot with no thought in your mind beyond being as close to him as is possible. it’s foolish, reckless, absurd. but it’s there, regardless, unfurling in your chest with a lovely kind of agony.

you keep quiet on the walk, too afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll beg him to have his way with you or, worse, confess your re-blooming infatuation for him, and jace seems content enough to walk in silence for a while. eventually, though, he speaks.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you drunk before,” he observes, tone light.

you glance at him sidelong, pursing your lips at the teasing smirk curling on his mouth. “it’s aegon’s doing,” you tell him solemnly. “my brother is something of an expert on the subject of wines, and his tolerance is… much higher than mine own.”

jace snorts. “aye, i had noticed.”

you lapse into silence, again, only now you find yourself stealing glances at him. he really is very pretty, you think, though in quite a masculine way. something about the sharp line of his jaw and the curl of his eyelashes keeps drawing your attention, and you suspect you are not being subtle with your admiration in your inebriated state. as you walk by an open window moonlight floods into the hall, sending jace’s profile into sharp relief, and your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his smooth skin. something about the pattern makes you think of the stars, and you realise too late that your quick glances have turned to a lingering stare.

“is there something on my face, princess?”

jace’s mockingly innocent words draw your eyes to his. he’s smirking down at you, eyes dancing with amusement, and your cheeks flush. gods, you don’t think you’ve blushed so much in moons compared to the mere hours you’ve spent in his company. the things this man is doing to you — it is unconscionable. you don’t know how much more of this you can take before your resolve breaks.

“i apologise, my prince,” your respond after a beat, teeth biting at your lip. “i did not mean to… i was leagues away.”

his eyes darken, mischief fleeing them in favour of flickers of something else as they linger on your mouth, and that damnable heat in your stomach blazes. you want desperately to surge forward and kiss him, or for him to take you in his hands and kiss you. you just want, and ache, and burn. and it’s too much, far too much for your wine-addled brain to process, but you know if anyone was to happen upon you in this corridor, starting at him with your mouth parted and your breaths shuddering through your lungs, there will be consequences.

“we should— we are almost at my chambers.” your words are stumbling, loud in the sudden quiet that had descended over the pair of you, and jace startles a little, eyes darting away from yours as your stomach plummets. gods, what are you doing? staring at him in such a way? he must think you a simple-minded fool, gaping at him for the sake of a few freckles. you step away from him, rubbing your arm as you turn your eyes to stare intently at your feet instead. “i can make it the rest of the way from here. you should return to the feast.”

jace is quiet for a long moment and you peek up at him to see him watching you with an indecipherable expression for a charged breath before nodding slowly and taking a step away.

“as you wish,” he murmurs, ducking his head in a simple bow. “sweet dreams, princess.”

you stutter out your own farewell, half-convinced you’ll be dreaming of nothing but his hands and his mouth this night, before turning and all but fleeing down the hall.

oh, yes. jacaerys is certainly going to be the death of you.

jace spends the next few days at court so entangled in his responsibilities he feels he barely sets eyes upon you.

he and his mother are roped into starting the celebrations in the absence of the king himself. his grandsire’s health is failing, of that there is no doubt, and after enjoying himself a touch too heartily at the welcome feast he requires a few days to recover. he thinks perhaps that’s why these festivities are so important; it’s unlikely the king will make it to his five and fiftieth name day, and almost certainly not his sixtieth. it leaves him with… complicated feelings.

when his grandsire dies, he will no longer be the heir to the heir, but the heir to the iron throne itself. it’s a daunting thought; for all that his mother has seen him well prepared to sit his throne one day, it feels such an impossible task. he doesn’t understand how he’s ever supposed to be ready for such a thing.

the thought rises, unbidden, that it would be easier with you by his side. with your kind heart but sharp mind, you’d make a fine queen. he finds himself daydreaming of it still and scolding himself all the while for acting the green boy, and yet unable to stop. it’s as if his every thought leads back to you in some way or another — he sees a flower and wonders if you’d like the smell of it, or sees a dress and thinks of how much lovelier it would look on you. at night he indulges in more sensual wonderings, and he swears he’s not felt the urge to touch himself so much since he was a boy of five and ten just starting to discover the pleasures the touch of another can bring.

for all that you’d appeared to reject him the night of the welcome feast, he finds himself certain you desire him just as he does you. in fact, he fancies it’s that very desire that had led to you fleeing his company and avoiding him in the days after.

because you are avoiding him.

yes, he is busy with the festivities and you are perhaps equally so. but he does not think it’s busyness that drives you to seek conversation with absolutely anyone else when he looks for your company, and it is not busyness that has you clinging to aemond’s side so fiercely either. you know he won’t approach you when you’re with your brother, knowing how it hurts you to see them trade barbs and knowing himself well enough to know he will not be able to bite back his rancour if aemond says a word about his father.

jace is not an idiot. he knows what people say about him, the words they barely bother to whisper behind their hands about who his true sire is. he has complicated feelings about that, too, but it all boils down to one simple thing: he is his mother’s son. she is heir to the king, and he is her heir. for him, that’s all that can matter.

he knows it’s all that matters to you, too. for all that your brothers had spit bastard at him for as long as he can remember, you’ve never done so. you’ve never looked at him differently for the rumours of his birth, and it’s just one thing among many he treasures about you.

perhaps it’s foolish, to cling to these childhood feelings so tightly, but he cannot let the idea of the two of you together go. he knows luke has noticed how he stares after you in longing, since his brother has never been shy about teasing him relentlessly. he thinks his mother has noticed, too, from the few carefully inane comments she’s made about betrothals and duty.

he supposes an argument could be made for the fact that with the years without contact between you, he doesn’t really know you anymore, not as he once did, but he doesn’t feel it matters. he can learn anything new about you and will in fact do so joyfully, but the important things? the things that speak to who you are at your core? jace has always known those, has always felt connected to you in a way he never has with another, and he loves you now just as he did as a boy.

it would be easier in a way if he felt sure you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. at least then he could try and move on from them, put to bed his endless wonderings of you. but for as often as he turns his head to look at you, he finds you looking away from your own watching of him. the few, brief interactions he has with you over the next few days feel loaded, the desire and affection between you a palpable thing, and he’s tiring of pretending there’s nothing there anymore.

he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t miss you.

so, at the halfway point of the celebrations when there’s another, larger feast held with plenty of chances for dancing and sneaking away into dark corners, he makes it a point to keep an eye on you. the moment he spots you, finally alone, he beelines for you. your attention is on your necklace, readjusting the pendant that rests on your chest, and he cannot help but let his gaze linger on the swell of your breasts as he approaches. he’s found himself staring at your chest more often than is wholly appropriate over the last few days, but then he knows his own weaknesses when it comes to a woman’s form.

“p-prince jacaerys,” you greet weakly when you look up from your necklace, hands smoothing over the skirts of your dress. your eyes dart about the room as if seeking a rescue from someone, and he tries not to feel how such a response to his presence stings. “how are you enjoying the feast?”

“well enough,” he returns, echoing the words you’d spoke to him days ago. gods, has it only been days since that conversation? it feels like an age, and he has felt more distant from you in these passing moments than he is in your years apart.

“that is… good.” your fingers twist around each other, teeth catching on your bottom lip, and he has to swallow back the sudden rush of desire to be the one nipping at the pouting flesh.

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

his request startles you, eyes widening as your fingers drop back to your side in surprise. he thinks for a wild moment that you’ll say no, make some excuse to remove yourself from him, and he feels himself bracing for the rejection. but you hesitate, searching his face, and whatever you find there seems to soften something in you as you nod.

“of course.” you offer him your hand, an unsure smile on your face.

he takes it with relief, trying not to react at the sensation of your hand in his own. he was right in thinking your hands are smooth, but as he leads you to the dance floor and your fingers slide over his palm he feels the drag of callouses as he’d expected. it pulls him back into that heated imagining of before for a moment, and he has to shake his head slightly to keep himself from losing his wits.

you stay quiet as he guides you into position, dainty hand resting on his shoulder as he places his own at your hip. he leads you through the first few steps in quiet, too, taking the moment to enjoy having you in his arms, having you close. but he realises after a silent minute that you’re obviously not going to say anything, and even as he looks beseechingly at you appear to avoid meeting his eyes.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he speaks lowly, watching you carefully as you stare purposefully at the bridge of his nose instead of his eyes.

your eyes flicker away and back and then away again, fingers tightening around his own as he leads you through the steps of the dance effortlessly. “aye,” you admit quietly. “i have been.”

“why?” he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate nor so accusing, but the quiet hurt that your absence has caused him surges forth before jace can stop it.

you finally meet his gaze, eyes helpless and wanting and aching, and his stomach twists at the sight of your conflicted expression.

“i— jace, i can’t.” your voice cracks with the weight of your emotion and without thinking he pulls you closer, arm wrapping tight around your waist to provide you some semblance of comfort. “i can’t. not here, please.”

wordlessly he alters the steps of the dance, drawing you with precision through the crowd of dancers until you come to one of the balconies. it’s blessedly empty of anyone else, and as soon as you realise it some tension seems to shake loose of you.

you step out of his grip slowly, almost reluctantly, and walk to the railing, palms splaying on the stone. he joins you after the barest hesitation, drinking you in as you stare out at the courtyard and beyond. he notices how tightly you grip the banister, colour leeching from you knuckles with the strength of your grip, and almost without thinking jace rests his hand beside your own, pinkie fingers brushing. the touch seems to release something in you and he hears how your breath shudders before you speak.

“i embarrassed myself on the night of the welcome feast,” you confess miserably. “i drank too much, and the way that i behaved— staring at you in that way— it was not becoming behaviour of a princess, nor of a, a friend. i did not wish to make you uncomfortable again, so i thought it best i keep my distance from you.”

he blinks in surprise. “uncomfortable?” the mere idea of such a thing is maddening. he recalls the sight of you before him, lips parted and oh so kissable as you’d stared at him with such intention it had set him ablaze. how in the name of the gods can you think he found such a thing uncomfortable? “princess, i can assure you, the only feeling i took from your admiration is delight.”

your head snaps around, eyes finally meeting his own again, and he shakes his head in bemusement at the sight of your desperate hope. “truly? you do not jest?”

he resists the urge to chuckle, knowing you’ll take any kind of laughter, no matter how well meaning, poorly. instead he reaches for you, grasps your hands in his own and tries not to bask in the way you lean into him as he steps recklessly into your space. he feels your trembling breaths puff against his jaw as he ducks his head to stare intently into your eyes, and if he were a weaker man jace thinks he’d be on his knees in prostration for you in that very moment.

“surely you must know how i feel for you?” he murmurs, tracking the way the flush in your cheeks travels down your neck and onto your chest with greedy eyes. “how desperately i adore you?”

“jacaerys—.” you huff, shaking your head in denial for all that with every breath you take you sway ever closer to him. “we hardly know each other anymore. i won’t deny there is, is a yearning between us, mayhaps, but you cannot claim to adore me when you know me not. it’s been years since—"

“—do you think time matters?” he talks over you, strong in his conviction that you and he share a bond that transcends time or distance or duty. “that any distance between us could change what i know in my bones? i loved you before i had a name for it. i loved you when we were children and, yes, i love you again now. mayhaps i don’t know your favourite sweet or if you prefer to watch the sun rise or set, but i know you. i know who you are, princess, for all that i might no longer know the rest of it. i know your good heart, your quick mind and i know that i love you.” he hesitates, drinks in the dawning, open wonder on your face, and then adds, “and i think you might love me just the same.”

you sigh out his name sweetly, fingers tangling with his own as he squeezes your hands tenderly. you tilt your chin towards him as your eyes flutter shut. his nose slides against your own as you turn just so to the side, and your mouth is so close. he could kiss you, right now, and he knows that you would not pull away. but he’s too aware of the noise of the feast, the crowd of people that at any moment could find you in a compromising position.

he wants you, gods does he want you, but he will not ruin your reputation, will not sully your virtue for the sake of a stolen kiss on a balcony when he desires no less than forever with you.

“i will not push you,” he murmurs against your lips, breathing the air right from your lungs as he presses his forehead to yours for just a moment. “if you do not want this — if you do not return my feelings — i won’t push you nor pursue you. i hold too great a respect for you for that.” he cradles your jaw, thumb dragging at the corner of your mouth, and he glories in the way you shudder at his touch. with an unsteady breath he separates himself from you, hands clenching into fists at his side in an effort not to immediately reach for you again.

“but if you decide you want me as i want you, that you love me as ardently as i you, then my chambers will be unguarded and unlocked for you.” he sketches a bow, heart thundering in his chest as you stare at him in wordless shock. “i hope to see you later tonight, my princess.”

you have no chance to respond before jace leaves you standing on the balcony.

he leaves you with your mind swirling, one thought after another coming so quickly you have no hope in processing them. you’re glad to be outside, at least, the cool breeze helping soothe the heat that blazes through your veins as you press your hand over your racing heart. you don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. all you can think about is jace, earnest and honest and in love with you.

he’s in love with you (!).

it’s too quick. too much time has passed with too little contact. in the years since he left court you’ve grown into new people, people who for all intents and purposes are strangers to each other. the lust is there, there’s no point in denying that with how your body warms at the smallest glance from him. and that old familiarity that blossomed as friendship as children and now into easy companionship as adults, that remains as it always has. and mayhaps you’ve thought to yourself, in the dark quiet of the night, that you’ll surely love him once more. that to know him any better at all is to love him again, because how can you know him and not love him?

but there’s been years and leagues between you for so long. time and distance have their ways of changing a heart, and he might say it doesn’t matter but it does. it does.

only it doesn’t, not at all, because giddiness is bubbling up in you so sudden that you cannot fight it, a helpless laugh escaping you as you press your hand over your mouth in unabashed amazement. your brave prince, plunging headfirst into the long-unspoken feelings between you. it incites you to act, drives you back into the hall where you catch aegon for long enough to tell him you’re retiring for the night before escaping into the quiet corridors.

you feel like your heart is going to burst in your chest, nerves and excitement and awe twisting together inside of you until you feel like you might vibrate out of your own skin. the walk to jace’s chambers is a haze, and in the morning you expect you’ll panic, wonder if anyone saw you walking so shamelessly towards the prince’s rooms. but now, in this moment, all you can think of is how fervently you want him, how guilelessly you love him.

the knock on his door — unguarded, as he had promised — echoes loudly in the silent corridor. you can hear your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as you wait for him to answer, and when he finally does he takes your breath away.

he’s shed his doublet and sword belt, standing in only his breeches and a billowing off-white tunic. the ties are loose on his neck and you’re entranced by the peek of tanned skin there, the freckles you can see disappearing beneath the shirt. he says your name, once, and your eyes snap back to him in time to see the relief and wonder coalesce into smouldering fire.

he curls his fingers around your wrist, thumb swiping over the delicate skin in a way that makes you shiver, and he uses the hold to wordlessly tug you into his chambers. you step into the space, eyes darting from the large bed to the roaring fire and back to the bed again as he locks the doors behind you.

you are finally, blissfully, alone.

you feel his presence behind you, heat and woodsmoke radiating from him as you turn to face him. something in your chest loosens at the blatant awe in his amber eyes, like liquid gold in the light of the flames, and before you can pause to think you’re speaking, your feelings escaping you in a flood.

“i shouldn’t be here,” you say shamelessly. “i know my being here is—. i shouldn’t be here. but i couldn’t not be, jace, not when you left without giving me a chance to tell you how i feel. because, gods, of course i feel for you. it’s unreasonable, insensible— there’s so much about each other we just don’t know anymore.” you shake your head, smiling at him wide and helpless and hopelessly, hopelessly in love with him. “but despite all the rationality in the world, all the good sense — despite knowing the trouble this is sure to bring us — i am completely and utterly in love with you, jacaerys velaryon.”

he kisses you, then, surges into your space and cups your cheeks and slots his mouth so sweetly against yours. you gasp into his lips as he kisses you deliberate, slow and tender in a way that makes your chest ache. your arms loop around his neck, pulling him as close as you can as his own arms wrap around your waist. your noses bump and your teeth clash in your eagerness and it’s still glorious, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever experienced because it’s him.

it’s always been him.

you part after a few minutes, remaining close together as he runs his hand through your hair before cradling your face once more. “tell me again,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing your breath.

“i love you,” you say, smiling so wide it makes your cheeks ache. “i love you, i love you, i lo—”

he kisses you again, a quick press of his mouth against your this time, and then he’s laughing softly as his golden eyes shine down at you. “i have loved you forever,” he tells you, indulgent and affectionate as his thumb traces over your cheek. “i will love you forever, my princess.”

he draws you closer still, holds you tightly against him but far enough that he can drink you in, and for long moments you simply bask in the presence of each other, of this slow unfurling of happiness in your heart. this close to him, you can once again see the freckles dotted across his face. without even thinking of it your hand rises, and with butterfly-gentle fingers you trace a path over the constellations mapped on sun-kissed skin. jace sighs softly with your touch, dark lashes fluttering closed as his lips part.

“iksā sīr gevie [you are so beautiful],” you murmur, slipping into high valyrian in the quiet of his chambers.

he exhales shakily, breath hitching in his chest as your fingers brush gently over his eyelids, the slope of his nose, the furrow of his brow. you want to remember him like this forever – bathed in the soft firelight, trembling beneath your tender touch, wholly and entirely yours.

“ñuha dārilaros [my princess],” he breathes, and hearing him speak possessively of you in your mother tongue ignites something within you so suddenly you cannot fight it.

arousal roars to life, deep in your belly, and you are helpless but to do anything but lean forward and press your lips to his once more. jace meets you just as greedily, hands gripping tightly to the flesh of your hips as he hauls you closer until your chests press together. your hand moves from his face to fist in his hair, tugging at his curls until he whines against your lips. he kisses you deep and open mouthed and filthy, tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you can feel heat pulse between your legs.

one of his hands comes up to tangle in your hair, pulling until your head is tilted back. he trails hot, wet kisses along your neck and you hiss at the sensation, pressing his head closer to your skin. you feel him smirk against you before he mouths at your pulse point, teeth nipping just enough to send a thrill of pain and pleasure through you.

“jace,” you moan, grinding against him shamelessly as he sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin of your throat. you want him so fiercely it makes you reckless, makes you insatiable as the hand not buried in his curls drags down his back to grip at his ass. he groans against you, your name spilling from his lips so deep and husky that you want to do whatever you can to make him say it like that again and again and again.

“this is— we shouldn’t,” he says into your skin. he pushes at the shoulder of your dress to expose more of your bare skin to his greedy eyes, lips trailing the path his fingers have taken. “we should wait until we—. if anyone knew of this—”

“—no one will know,” you assure him, fingers flexing into the taut skin of his ass to drive him closer to you.

“i don’t want to, to besmirch your honour.” even as he speaks he’s dragging his tongue against your collarbone, chasing a bead of sweat down to the swell of your chest.

“fuck my honour,” you burst out, and your language has him moaning. you hitch your leg around his waist and his hand drops instantly to grip you at the knee, pulling you just so until the hard length of him is grinding deliciously against your core. you can’t think, can’t breathe, for wanting him. his touch and his scent and his taste consumes you, inflames you, and you care for nothing but the feel of him against you.

he pulls away from your chest, mouth swollen and pupils blown as he pants hotly. he presses his forehead to yours, squeezing your hip to still you as you shamelessly try to rub yourself against him. “this will bring ruin to you if it gets out, do you understand? it would break me to be the cause of such a thing.”

his desperation makes you hesitate, something about the fierce tone breaking into the haze of lust that consumes you. you take a moment to look at him, and you know with certainty that if you ask him to stop right this second he will.

but you don’t want him to stop. you’ve never wanted anything less.

“jace.” you cup his cheek, thumb dragging over his bottom lip as you force him to keep your gaze. “i know the risks of this as well as anyone.” you lean in closer, your nose sliding against his before you tilt your head to pepper soft, deliberate kisses along his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “i love you.” he sighs softly in pleasure before turning his head to capture your mouth again, and this kiss is a softer, slower thing.

when you break apart, you stare deeply into his eyes, making sure he can see the truth of your words. the heat in his amber eyes threatens to splinter you to pieces as you swallow thickly, almost overwhelmed once more with your desire for him.

“i am yours, jacaerys velaryon,” you say steadily. “no matter what happens from here— i belong to you.”

it’s like a dam breaks in him. his hands are suddenly everywhere as his mouth devours yours relentlessly, leaving you gasping and arching into his touch. he backs you towards his bed as his hands fist in your skirts, bunching the material up to your hips. he breaks from your mouth long enough to tug your dress over your head, leaving you in your thin small clothes, and despite the sweltering heat of the room your nipples harden beneath the sheer material.

“look at you, pretty thing,” he says reverentially, the weight of his heated gaze tangible as he stares at your heaving chest. “is this all for me?”

“yes,” you hiss, head tilting back as he trails kisses down the column of your throat. “all for you, jace. only ever for you.”

he groans at your words, deft fingers making quick work of the complicated stays of the brassiere, and when the material falls from you he stares for a long moment as if transfixed by the sight of your bare breasts. it makes you smug, knowing that those times you’ve caught his eyes lingering on your chest haven’t just been in your imagination.

“you are perfect,” he murmurs worshipfully, large hand cupping the side of your breast tenderly. “such a perfect girl for me.”

his thumb sweeps over your nipple, featherlight at first before returning more firmly when you sigh and lean into his touch. his other hand grips your hip once more, pulling you close to him as he lavishes more attention on your neck. he nips and kisses his way down your throat, your shoulder, the swell of your breast until he’s hunched slightly in front of you, sucking bruises into the tender skin of your chest.

“jacaerys, please.” you know not what you’re pleading for, only that you need something, and it’s as if he can read your mind as his mouth closes over your nipple. his hand, now free, gropes at your other breast as his tongue swirls tight circles around your nipple and your head tips back with a moan. it’s somehow enough and yet not, your hips bucking aimlessly as heat and slick pools between your legs, and you crave.

“more, please,” you beg shamelessly.

jace drops to the floor in response and the sight of him on his knees for you has your head spinning. he presses open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your abdomen, bites gently at your hip as his hands slide steadily up your legs. you tremble beneath his careful ministrations, and he murmurs wordless assurances into your sweat-slick skin.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your smalls, dragging them agonisingly slowly down your legs until you can step out of them. standing completely bare before him you expect to find yourself shy, but the way jace looks at you rapturously has liquid heat licking through your veins instead.

he leaves lingering kisses on your thigh and down your leg, and when his mouth brushes over the tender skin at the back of your knee you feel them buckle. he huffs a gentle laugh against you, warm hands cradling your waist as he urges you to sit back on the bed. you do so unsteadily, planting your hands against the soft feather mattress and watching him with intent ardour.

he nudges your legs apart and settles between them, his shoulders spreading you wide around him and you release a soft breath as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your thighs. “let me take care of you, my princess,” he pleads, eyes wide and soft and beseeching as he gazes up at you. you nod hesitantly, not wholly sure what he intends, but then his eyes finally drop to your core and darken so quickly it makes your mouth dry.

“gods, look at you.” he drags a finger through your folds and your head cants back, a whine escaping you at the touch. “you’re so wet for me, love. so gorgeous.” he brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean of your slick and it has your mouth dropping open because he’s obscene, you think. he’s glorious.

“you taste so good,” he says, his voice so rough with arousal it makes you shiver. “wanna taste more of you.”

with no more warning that that, he licks a deliberate strip along your slit before circling his tongue over your clit. your hand shoots to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he feasts on you. his name falls from your lips over and over again like a prayer as he laps at your core, tongue pressing deliciously inside you. you grind wantonly against his mouth, panting as he laves at your cunt.

your pleasure climbs sharply, rising so high you’re helpless to resist the way your stomach tightens. as if sensing your approaching high jace shifts his focus to your pulsing clit, flicking his tongue rapidly over the bundle of nerves.

“jace, gods, feels so good,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his curls to press his head impossibly closer. “please don’t stop, ‘m so close—”

he sucks harshly on your pearl, ever so carefully dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh, and you fall to pieces as that tightly wound ball in your stomach snaps. he coaxes you through the trembling release, gentling his attention on you to drag out your pleasure until you’re squirming away from him in sensitivity. when he pulls away from your core his face is shining with your slick and the sight makes you feel feral. you bend to reach him and he presses up to meet you, kissing you hot and messy as you drink the taste of yourself from his mouth.

“you did so well for me, my princess,” he pants into your mouth as he crowds you onto the bed and the praise blooms hot in your chest. “need you to be good for me a little longer, okay? need to prepare you.”

you whimper, capturing his mouth in another sloppy kiss and nipping thoughtlessly at his lips as he settles between your legs. you can feel the heavy length of him against your hip, kept from you by his breeches, and you’re suddenly insensible with desire to see more of his skin. you tug wordlessly at the hem of his tunic, pulling it free from his trousers, and with a huff of fond amusement he separates from you to pull it over his head and toss it aside.

you drink in the exposed planes of his chest, leaning up to drag your tongue from freckle to freckle along his collarbone, and jace groans out your name in response. you follow the map of constellations down his chest, pressing kisses and gentle bites to the skin until you come to one of his nipples. hesitantly you flick your tongue out, curl it around the puckered skin just as jace had done to you earlier.

“fuck,” he hisses, fingers clenching in the sheets as his arms tremble with the strain of keeping himself steady above you.

emboldened by his response you lavish the pebbled bud with attention, switching to the other when the fancy takes you, until jace is shuddering with desire and pushing your shoulders back into the bed. he swallows your protests with a flurry of kisses as his fingers trail down your chest, your abdomen until he reaches the heat between your legs. he presses a finger against you again and you arch into the touch, tossing your head back into the pillows.

“i want you so badly,” he confesses in a whisper as he sucks another bruise into your neck.

“yes,” you respond senselessly, hips bucking up to meet the slow stroke of his finger. “want you, jace, please.”

“i need to prepare you first, love,” he tells you again and you whine in displeasure. “i don’t wish to hurt you, so i need to get you ready for me.”

you’ve heard that it can hurt, what happens in bed between a man and a woman. you can’t comprehend the idea with how good you feel right now, how good he’s made you feel already, but you nod in acquiescence at jace’s stubborn expression and he beams down at you.

“that’s my good girl,” he utters affectionately, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

the finger that’s been sliding leisurely against you shifts, pressing inside with a familiar stretch. you’ve touched yourself before, explored what pleasure you can draw from your own body in the late of the night. you don’t know if it’s different because it’s the angle or just because it’s jace, but the feeling of his finger pumping into you is so much better than anything you’ve managed with your own clumsy digits and you moan with the pleasure of it.

“you’re so tight,” he says in amazement, burning gold eyes staring down at you worshipfully. “can’t wait to be inside you, my princess.”

you moan at his filthy words, hips bucking into his touch as he presses a second finger into you. this one pinches more, makes it almost uncomfortable until jace starts to rub slow circles over your clit with his thumb. any discomfort melts into liquid pleasure as he mouths at your neck once more, fingers crooking inside of you just so until stars burst behind your eyes.

“fuck, jacaerys—”

he shushes you softly even as his eyes gleam with smug pride. he picks up the pace, now, fucking you with his fingers as your pleasure starts to climb once more. just when you start to feel like you can’t take it anymore he slides a third finger in, the stetch burning deliciously this time, and you come apart on his fingers with a strangled moan of his name. he doesn’t relent this time, though, even when you writhe helplessly beneath him; he just chases another release for you without giving you a chance to recover, and the thrill rises so quickly it almost makes it a little hard to breathe.

“just one more,” he soothes as you whine, pressing delicate kisses to the corner of your mouth as he drives his fingers into you relentlessly. “you’re doing so well. just one more for me.”

your third climax hits you so hard your back bows up from the bed, mouth parting in a silent cry of pleasure as jace coaxes you through it before pulling his fingers from you. you ache at the loss, mewling your displeasure as your cunt clenches around nothing. he breathes a laugh at your impatience, kissing you so sweetly in such contrast to the delicious heat between you that it almost makes you weep.

with shaking hands you reach for the ties of his breaches, fumbling with the laces while he kisses you languidly. you make a triumphant little noise when you finally untie them and he smiles at you, adoring and soft and yet somehow feverishly aroused as you push the leather trousers down his hips. he helps you the rest of the way, kicking them off before returning to hover over you.

your hands brush his abdomen as you reach for him, fingers curling gently around the hard line of his cock, and he realises a shuddering breath in response. he watches you intently as you stare at his arousal, fascinated by the way your fingers barely close around the thick girth of him. he’s going to fill you so well, you realise, and you bite your lip as your core clenches again. the tip of him is leaking fluid, and you drag your hand up his cock to swipe your thumb over the head.

jace moans at the movement, so you do it again and again, watching in inflamed curiosity at the way his stomach contracts as he thrusts into your hand, the wet noise of it making you flush down to your toes as desire sparks in your core. his hand covers your own abruptly, stopping your exploration, and you pout up at him as he fixes you with a blazing stare.

“if you keep doing that, i’m not going to last,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of his desire.

“fine.”

you huff, pretending at annoyance even as you eagerly lie back and spread your legs for him. you fix him with an expectant look, raising an eyebrow, and he chuckles fondly as he settles himself between your legs once more. you’re not expecting the velvet heat of him dragging against you and you gasp at the sensation, grinding against him as he thrusts shallowly against you.

“are you ready for me, love?” he checks, cradling your face in his hands as his thumb rubs over your jaw.

you turn to press a kiss against his palm, near overwhelmed with your love and affection for this man. “yes,” you say simply, and it’s all the permission he needs as he ducks down to kiss you unhurriedly.

his head catches at your opening on the next thrust, and with the slightest shift of your hips he’s pressing inside of you. the stretch of him burns, pinches, but just as he did with his fingers, he worms his hand between your bodies to drag circles over your clit. you do your best to relax, keeping your eyes fixed on his golden stare as he slides into you, agonisingly slow.

the whole while he keeps up a litany of praise, calling you good and precious and perfect as sweat beads along his forehead. when he’s finally fully sheathed inside you he stills his movements, kisses you hard and wanting as he thumbs at your pearl, and when you’re ready you tilt your hips. the stretch of him burns, still, but in a way that sets your skin alight as you cling to his shoulders.

he moans your name like a prayer, drawing away from you until the tip of his cock catches at your entrance once more, and this time when he sinks back in your eyes roll back into your head. he feels so good, stretching and filling you so completely that you’ve no room to think, to breathe, to do anything but take it as he thrusts into you. he buries his head in your neck, resting on his forearms as he plunges into you again and again and again, and between your own choked breaths and the sounds of skin against skin, you hear him muttering in high valyrian.

“sīr sȳz syt nyke, sīr ȳrda, sīr lōz. vēttan syt nyke. ñuha dārilaros, mirre ñuhon [so good for me, so tight, so wet. made for me. my princess, all mine].”

it drives you wild, his voice and his words and hearing him speak in valyrian combined with the exquisite torture of the slow drag of his cock inside you. it’s too much, not enough, and leaves you with nothing but the need to feel as much of him as you possibly can. your hands drag up and down his back, fingernails leaving raised red lines in their wake as you seek to be as close to him as you can bear.

“more, jace, gods, please, i need—”

he cuts you off with a hard thrust, your breath punching out of your lungs as he starts to drive into you harder and faster. it’s so good, so fucking good, but still not quite enough and you whine, seeking something you’re not sure you know how to verbalise.

“whatever you need, love. i’ll give you whatever you need.”

understanding your need even when you don’t, jacaerys rears up, grips your legs and presses your knees to your chest before bearing down on you. like this he reaches so deep it hurts in the most unbearably, searingly pleasurable way. and it’s perfect, exactly what you needed, feeling him so far inside you that it soothes you and ignites you and makes you ache all at once.

“y’feel so good,” you manage to slur out, head lolling as you lose yourself to the feel of him taking you apart so expertly. “so— fuck— so deep. so good, jace, so good.”

jace groans your name, pounding into you so hard and so deep that it’s unconscionable, has your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips buck up to meet him recklessly. your peak approaches again, searing heat blazing through you as you inch closer to another climax, and all you can do is whine and moan as he fills you over and over again. he starts to lose the thread of his rhythm as you clench around him, valyrian and common tongue mixing senselessly as praise spills from his lips.

“avy jorrāelan [i love you] my perfect girl, gūrogon nyke sīr sȳrī [take me so well], can’t get enough of you, hells, i love you, ao sagon ñuhon [you’re mine], my love, my princess, my queen, ñuha ābrazȳrys [my wife].”

you come so hard you see stars, walls pulsing around jace’s cock as he curses. he thrusts sloppily into you, chasing his own release and dragging out your own as you keen, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. he finds completion with a drawn out noise, seed spilling hot and thick inside of you as he lazily pumps his hips two, three more times before collapsing on top of you.

you press absent kisses to his temple, brushing back the sweat-soaked curls from where they’ve matted on his forehead as he shudders against you. you feel lethargic, body aching in the sweetest of ways as you fight to catch your breath. eventually the heavy weight of jace on top of you becomes uncomfortable and you squirm beneath him in protest. with a sigh he slides himself free of you, rolling over onto his back and wrapping an arm around you to pull you with him so that you sprawl over his chest.

you bury your smile into his neck, satisfaction settling bone-deep as his hand runs up and down your back idly. for long moments the two of simply lie together in the quiet, the only sound the rustling of the sheets and the crackle of the dying fire.

“i’ll speak to my mother and the king on the morrow,” he says into the quiet and you raise your head to look at him. he looks serious, amber eyes contemplative as he peers down at you. “i’ll not let another night pass without you as my betrothed.” he smiles at you then, a little crooked as his eyes crinkle, and without thought you reach up to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

“i love you,” you say, eyes shining with mischief. “ñuha valzȳrys [my husband].”

jace swallows your laugh with another kiss, doing a poor job of hiding his own amusement as his smile presses to yours, and as the candles burn down you let all of your worries and doubts fade.

you love him. he loves you.

there’s nothing else that matters.

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

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inkskinned · 2 years

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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!!#writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

#spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown imagines #hobie brown x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader

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mooooonnnzz · 1 month

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holy shit world/insure made me sob. would you consider doing a part two ? i’m imagining stan and ford telling dipper and mable childhood stories with the reader. they’re vague about it, saying stuff like “they aren’t here anymore” so the twins just think read died. then reading coming back through the portal and they connect the dots. omfg i’m obsessed with this concept.

Word/Insured Part 2

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ GUESS WHO FINISSHHHEDDDD!!!

☆ this'll have 2 parts so it's easier to digest, since it's lawnngg so if it abruptly ends, that's just me splitting it

☆ 4,5k words

☆ gender-neutral reader

☆ possible tw: drinking to cope, mentions of suicide, gagging and descriptive chewing? and just angst

☆ srry this lowk kinda took long to write both keyboard and mouse just died on me when i was writing this so i had to find an old keyboard oops

☆ if this does well, i'm considering on making hcs of reader adjusting back to their home dimensions and diving deep into the twins n their trauma !!

☆ that's all. i hope you all enjoy! :3

✶ Stan and Ford hadn’t talked to each other since your disappearance. The anger and hatred that Stan held onto was enough to deter him from even granting a glance at Ford who tirelessly tried to get Stan to talk to him. He’d begin the conversation with ideas he’s thought through the night prior, ideas that most likely secured a chance on bringing you back. But Stan wanted nothing to do with him. His head was shrouded with your screams, the way you yelled out for Stan instilled such a soul-crushing guilt on Stan; he wasn’t sure he’d properly function as a normal human being after this. Not to mention, you and Stan were two peas in a pod, spending 10 years together after the collapse of their family truly brought the pair together, closer than they’d ever thought they would be. And now Stan is going through the same grief he felt when he was kicked out of the house, Ford doing nothing but sparing a sorrowful glance to him as he shouted for his brother, anticipating Ford to do something; to clean his name and everything would go back to normal. But instead, he turned his back on him. The situations were massively different but the pain was eerily still the same.

✶ Stan would spend majority of his nights clutching your belongings close to his chest. He didn’t care if it looked weird, those were the only things that he had left of you at the moment. Nights were spent crying himself to sleep, envisioning different scenarios where he had caught onto your wrist and pulled you back to the ground, where it was safe, where he was there to protect you. He couldn’t let his mind linger on the idea of you being stranded in another dimension, helpless and lost, not knowing what to do or where to go. The mere thought of it sends his heart crumbling down to his palms, all shredded and shattered beyond repair. He was your big brother, he was supposed to protect you. To keep you safe from harm's way, he betrayed that very promise by leading you to the place where you were taken away from him too soon. And that alone gutted him. Ford would hear Stan sobbing into the night and all he did was lay there in his bed, submitting himself to the torture to hear his brother’s wretched cries. Because, this was his fault. Stan wasn’t shy to tell him that almost every waking moment of the day when he has the chance. The guilt haunts him.

✶ Verbal arguments were pretty common between the pair. Stan mainly started them when he was pulled out of the haze he was in and roughly back to reality. A reality where you weren’t around anymore and that irked him, because who else was at fault other than his idiotic brother? “Do you ever wonder how more lively this house would have been if ya hadn’t pushed [Name] inside the portal?” His tone was harsh. They carried thick venom to them, his words permanently burning their way into Ford’s brain. “Not this again,” Ford’s heart quivered. He had just recollected himself from yesterday's fight and now Stan wants to barrel through another one? Ford avoided Stan’s glaring eye contact. “Stanley, I told you many times before. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for screwing up, I’m sorry for being the reason why [Name] isn’t here anymore.” Ford’s head tilted back, his eyes staring longingly at the ceiling. “You don’t know how much this eats at me, Stanley.” He blinks away the tears threatening to escape, his head lowering back down to meet Stan’s fiery stare. “But I beg of you, please. Don’t hate me for it. I can’t lose you again, not after losing [Name].” The look in Ford’s eyes was something Stan would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried. He looked so broken, so shattered, the shell of someone who once was a prodigy at everything he touched was now crushed to bits; pieces of him scattered, lost to time. Stanley’s anger faded into a mellow irritation. Shifting his hands awkwardly on his chest, his face softened ever so slightly. “Fine,” He grumbled, rushing past Ford, their shoulders roughly rocking against each other. Ford sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. This was a new development. A spark of hope flickered in Ford.

✶ Alcohol and cigars were Stan’s life vest. He’d rob a few packs of beer and down them within two days. It wasn’t healthy, but at least it distracted him from everything that was happening, right? Stan was pretty much drunk every day, and if he wasn’t, he was out on the porch smoking cigars, hoping that one day Ford would find him dead on the floor with beer cans surrounding him, his last moments spent thinking about how much he missed you. Stan wasn’t an angry drunk much to Ford’s surprise, considering how he spent his times where he was sober yelling at Ford, rather he’d rot away on the couch or floor, silently crying to himself in a puddle of his own tears. Many times Ford would have to pick up Stan, rest him on the couch and try to sober him up. And it wasn’t an easy task to do, picking up Stan with his weak arms was a workout for Ford. “Why couldn’t I save them?” Stank drunkenly babbled out, his head swaying side to side. “Don’t move too much, Stanley. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Ford warned, propping his head up with a pillow. “If I wasn’t so slow, [Name] would still be here.” Stan hiccups, his eyes glistening with tears. No matter how many times Ford hears Stan painfully talking about you, it still hurts the same and even more. “It’s not your fault, Stan.” Ford said, pulling a blanket up to his chest. “It’s not yours either.” Stan’s hand patted Ford on his face, thinking that it was his head. When Stan pulled his hands away, tears were streaking down Ford’s cheek. Hearing Stan tell him that it wasn’t his fault healed a piece of him and that quickly triggered the waterworks. “There, there, brother.” Stan patted Ford’s back as he sobbed into his hands. “It’s not my fault,” He repeated in loud sobs. “It’s not your fault.” Stan echoes.

✶ Ford handled his grief and stress by huddling himself in the lab, isolating himself from Stan’s drunken state and researching his work. Trying to find loopholes that he can tie them close with a workaround, with a quick fix that would bring you back. Cans of beer were discarded around his lab, just the same as upstairs. But he wasn’t downing beers like Stan, he chugged one or two to dull out the ache in his heart, to keep it from distracting him. He knew when to stop and limit himself. He wasn’t dependent on alcohol. Sleep was something Ford considered useless. That would only distract him from his work, from his progress. Stan walked into the lab, puffing a gray smoke of air out onto the air. Your absence has bestowed so much despair onto the pair and he hadn’t realized until this very moment. Walking over to Ford, he placed a hand on his back. He was messily sleeping on top of his work, glasses hanging off his face, mouth open, drool dribbling down to his arms and paper. His dark circles were so dark and he was unshaven, chin stubbly with hair. Has he been getting any sleep? He wouldn’t know because he’s always drinking the day away. Stan internally groaned at himself. Not only has been neglecting himself, he’s been neglecting his brother. Burning out the cigar, he grabbed a blanket from upstairs and draped it over Ford. “Sleep tight, Stanford.” He said, gingerly squeezing his arm. Stan sat right next to him, wanting to keep him company and dozed off. When morning came, Ford awoke to Stan’s head colliding with his chair. For that one morning, Stan’s snores were music to his ears.

✶ “S-Stanley!” Ford’s body lunges up from the couch when he sees Stan briskly pass by him and into the kitchen. “I-I’ve done some research and I-I think I found a way to get [Name] back!” He stumbles over his words, the lack of sleep weighing heavily on his foggy brain. The only thing that is keeping him up as of now is coffee he had been taking in shots for the past few days. The way he moves is fidgety and erratically and Stan takes notice of that. Pouring a cup of coffee for himself in a mug, he leans his back against the counter. “You need sleep, Stanford.” He brings the rim of the mug to his lips, his eyes never leaving Ford’s trembling figure as he takes a big gulp from his coffee. Ford couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stan spoke to him! It was measly four words, but that’s more than he has ever said in the past five months, that wasn’t angry nonsensical words that were being thrown at him or depressing drunken babbling. “No, there’s so much to be done.” Ford runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “You need to hear me out. We need to find the other two–” Stan shushes him. “I won’t talk to you until ya sleep, Stanford. Don’t you bother trying to back out from this.” He looks at Ford with a stern expression, almost the same one Mom wore whenever he warned Ford to not do anything stupid in the backyard with Stan. “B-But!” Stan doesn’t hear his weak objections, he’s already out of the kitchen before Ford can conjure a good enough excuse. With a groan, Ford trips over his own feet while he makes his way back to the couch. Pushing all his research and books off the couch and onto the floor, he topples over the couch. When his head crashes on the soft plush of his sofa, his body automatically shuts off, revealing how dangerously tired he was. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take long for him to crash out on the couch. Stan came in to check on Ford and was pleasantly pleased to see his twin at last getting the rest he deserved.

✶ Clinking his fork idly on the ceramic plate, Stan watched Ford make breakfast. Originally Stan was going to prepare breakfast, but Ford saw he was cooking and pushed him out of the kitchen, telling him that it was “his treat,” Stan couldn’t even utter a single word to him. He just wanted simple scrambled eggs and toast and now he’s left to fear for his life as Ford concocts a science experiment for his breakfast. “And for you breakfast, Stanley.” Ford swoops in, leaning forward as he shuffles the plate of food onto the table. “Scrambled eggs and buttered toast,” Ford smiles knowingly, placing his breakfast down. He had the same breakfast but the crust of his toast was cut off. “I don’t even know why I doubted you.” Stan scoops up the scrambled eggs with his fork and shoves it in his mouth with giddy excitement, a display of emotions Ford hadn’t seen in over 10 years. Who knew a simple breakfast would get him so happy? “Still being a baby about the crust?” He points to Ford’s crustless buttered toast with his fork, mouth muffled with food still being chewed in his mouth. Ford cringes at the sight of mashed up food in Stan’s mouth, suppressing a gag as he nods his head. “Chew your food before talking, Stanley! We’re not kids anymore.” He rasps out, his palm covering his mouth, his body shuddering with full body heaves. “Alright, alright!” With a loud gulp, he swallows his scrambled eggs. “Happy now?” Said Stan with a roll of his eyes. “Maybe not,” Using his other hand, Ford pushes the plate of eggs away. “Don’t want to eat anymore,” Stan shrugs, pouring the scrambled eggs on the plate. “More for me!” As Stan is chowing down on his eggs, Ford regains his composure. Though, he couldn’t watch Stan eat his eggs without the image of the yellow goopy food in his mouth so he averted his gaze to his hands.

✶ “[Name] sure had grown up the last time I saw them.” This was Ford’s feeble attempt at sprouting a conversation with Stan, but he soon regretted what he said when he realized the fragility of the topic. Stan blinks, stunned. A beat passes and Ford’s ready to divert the conversation to another topic when Stan replies with a weird look on his face Ford can’t quite catch. “Well, yeah,” Stan looks off to the side. Ford lets out a breath of relief, Stan wasn’t upset at the mention of you. “They left with me when you and Dad kicked me out and we haven’t seen each other since then.” There’s a distant look in his eyes when he speaks, his words carrying a light anger to them ever so slightly. “How were th–” Stan shoots up, the chair skidding behind him. “Just because we’re all chummy now doesn’t mean you get to ask all about [Name].” The sudden shift in his emotions slapped Ford right in his face. “I’m sorry.” Ford whispers. Stan clicks his tongue, uttering to himself before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry.” Stan rubs the sides of his head with his fingers. “Let’s not talk about them right now, okay? I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Stan pulls the chair to him and sits down. He rests his head on his fist, eyebrows pinched together with a long frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to blow up on ya like that.” Stan looks Ford in the eyes, and he could see the sincere sadness swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay, Stanley. Why don’t we talk about what you do for a living?” With that, they eased themselves into a comfortable conversation, with a few hiccups here and there, but in the end, the twins both had a soft smile adoring their faces.

✶ The repairing of the portal was a stepping stone that repaired Ford’s and Stan’s relationship. They weren’t going to lie and say that their relationship now was perfect, they still had their moments of anger and differences, but with a lot and a lot of patience, their bond was soon regaining its spark. “Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan slapped a sloppily written plan on how to fix the portal in front of Ford. “What is this?” Ford looked at the piece of paper like it was garbage. “A plan to fix the portal, isn’t it obvious?” Stan snatched his paper back up, eyes speedily reading his work, doubting his work. “Stanley, that is unnecessary. I have the blueprints to fix the portal.” Discarding his plan, he slapped his hands enthusiastically, rubbing them together. “Alright! So where are they?” Ford sucks in a breath. “In the other journals.” Stan nodded his head slowly, as if that information was already obvious. “And where are the other journals?” Ford coughs into his fist, speedily saying; “I hid them.” Stan looks at him weirdly. “Can’t we just unhide them?” Ford rubs a hand up against his prickly cheek. “That’s the thing. I may or may not remember where I hid them.” Closing his eyes, he braced for the gust of angry yelling. “you WHAT?!” Stan’s hands flew to the side of his head. “How do you forget where you put them?!” Stan made a mental note to mark down how many times Ford screwed up, so far he has two. He has a long way to go before he could be anywhere near Stan’s record. “I was in a flurry of panic! I wasn’t thinking straight.” Stan groaned, smacking his face with his hand. “Was it at least in Gravity Falls?” Stan had his fingers crossed. “Yes, obviously.” A triumph “Yes!” leaves Stan. “Okay, let’s get digging then!”

✶ Stan severely underestimated how truly difficult it would be finding one of the books in a forest that seemed like it stretched out for miles. Every turn looks the same and whenever he’d think he’s making progress, he’s right back where he started, at least he thinks he is. Frustrated, he bangs his head on a tree. The sound of metal clanging rang in his ears and shook through the tree. He groaned, holding his head with one hand as he curiously examined the possible metal tree. “Stanley!” Ford came running to Stan’s side, panting heavily. He wasn’t used to running for more than 5 seconds, and that was evidently proven with his flushed face and out of breath wheezes. “This tree is metal,” Stan notes, taking a few steps back, winding his leg back and hammering his shoe into the tree. The tree simply shook, the metal sound nowhere to be heard. “What?” Stan can feel his brain heating up, he couldn’t make any sense of this. The tree he kicked felt like a tree, not some metal contraption. It was only when he knocked his head—An idea springs to mind. Leaning his head back, he slammed his head on the tree. Shocked noises sputter out of Ford as he watches Stan rub the sore spot in his head. “There’s something here,” He gestures to the general area where he smashed his head in. “I can see that!” Ford walks up to the tree, knuckles gently knocking on the metal plate that was disguised as a tree. His hands move around the tree, searching for a way to open the plate. His fingers snag on an elevated piece of tree and with his fingertips, he swings it open, revealing a control panel. The memories of constructing this rush to his mind. “I remember now!” He flips a switch, his head turning over to where the large log rested. In front of it, a patch of grass was pulled back to unravel the hidden place where book three was. Ford eagerly snatched the book in his hands, showcasing it to Stan. “Great job, Stanford!” He claps Ford’s back. “So where’s the other one, you remember?” Unfortunately for the both of them, Ford doesn’t remember. He had seemed to bury most of his memories after meeting Bill Cipher, anything beyond that point was an empty mess for him.

✶ With the two books in hand, they managed to tinker and repair the damage to their best efforts. After each exhausting night in the lab, he’d attempt to pull the lever in hopes that whatever they did that day would work and to their utter disappointment, it never dislodge from its spot. “Man,” Stan wipes his forehead with his forearm, sweat glistening on his arm. “For a brainiac like you, I would’ve never imagined you being terrible at building this!” Stan barked with a laugh. Ford scoffed, his attention laser focused on fixing a part of the machine. “How did you manage to build the portal in the first place?” Stan wondered, the flashlight he was using to help Ford see what he was doing began to steer away. “Stanley,” Ford snapped. “The light!” Stan jolted up in surprise, the light quickly going back to Ford. “Sorry,” He sheepishly said. “But seriously, how did you build this?” He looked at Ford curiously. “I had an assistant.” Ford mumbled, a leak of oil dotting his clothes. He hissed, grabbing a tool off the ground to fix whatever started leaking. “Had? What happened?” Ford hummed happily. He had fixed the leak. Placing the tool back down to the floor, he directed his attention to Stan. “He quit.” Ford scratched his head, unintentionally smearing oil on his cheek with his hand. “Why?” Stan tossed him a piece of clean cloth, silently motioning to his cheek. Ford took it, wiping his cheek with the cloth. “He, uh,” If Ford told Stan that he went inside the portal momentarily and came out completely traumatized, Stan would go berserk on him knowing that you went inside the exact portal that mentally ruined Fiddleford. Ford did not want to go back to the arguing and suffocating silence so he lied. “He just thought what I was doing was unethical.” That wasn’t a complete and total lie, but it was far from the truth. Stan bought the lie fortunately for Ford. “Glad at least someone had the brain to call a quits!”

✶ Before they knew it, they were tremendously low on money. Stan was the unfortunate one to discover this revelation. On a quick supply run, Stan had gone to the grocery store and stock up on some food. When the cashier rang up him, totaling his price to 30 dollars, Stan had pulled out a penny, paper clip and a wrapper. Mentally cursing Ford for spending all his money on unnecessary science stuff, he weakly smiled at the cashier. “Can you hold onto my groceries for a quick second?” The cashier nodded their, a big bright smile on their face. “Of course, stranger!” And right when Stan was going to snag the groceries bags in his hurried rush, a woman spoke from behind him. “Hey, that’s no stranger! That must be the mysterious science guy in the woods!” She points, gathering a crowd around Stan. “Ah, no. That’s my nerdy twin brother.” Stan says, causing the crowd to coo in interest. “There’s two of them?” Someone in the crowd asked. “He probably cloned himself just so he could do two things at once!” Someone else said. “That’s probably what happened. I’ve heard strange stories about that old shack.” Toby Determined spoke up. “Yeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments!” Daryl added. “Gosh, I’d pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up in there!” Pa said. Susan perked up at that. “Oh, me too! Do you ever give tours?”

✶ A sly smirked pulled to Stan’s face. He had the perfect idea. “Yes, I do give tours! Ten…no-no fifteen bucks a person!” The crowd erupts in cheers, waving their green bills around. “Is it possible we get to see the man of mystery himself?” Susan questions. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” Stan eluded them to think that there was no possible way to get to Ford to gauge their reactions. And what they gave him sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. “You know what?” The crowd lightens up with hope. “Fifty bucks if you all want to see the man of mystery himself!” Another boisterous cheer from the crowd. “And what did you say your name was, twin of mister mystery?” Stan smiled proudly. “Stanley, Stanley Pines.”

✶ The crowd bustles into the shack, ooo’s and aaa’a left their mouths in awe of the place. “Step right up folks to a world of,” he pauses for a moment thinking. “A world of enchantment!” He gestures to all the wild findings. Grabbing a dial box with two antennae, he showcases it to the crowd. “Behold! The um, nerdy science box.” Susan looked at it with interest. The device rumbled to life and zapped her in the eye, rendering it closed. “Ah, my eye!” She covers her closed eye, stumbling back. “Uh, I can assure you, that is no way permanent!” He offers an uneasy smile. “I paid sixty five dollars for this!?” With Susan’s comment, the whole crowd erupted in complaints. Quickly thinking, he grabs a skeleton and makes a half-assed joke where the last customers didn’t make it out alive. The crowd laughs at his horrible joke and Stan smiles. “What is with all this ruckus?” Ford walks in, irritation evident on his face. “Is that him?” Someone excitedly shrieks from the crowd. “Oh my god, it is! Take my money!” Wads of dollar bills get thrown at Stan who was making a great effort to make sure he caught all of them. “Stanley, what did you do!”

✶ After answering a few questions he was coaxed into, (they stroked his ego), he kicked them out, accidentally saying that they could return another time before closing the door, smacking himself in the head. “What was that?” Stan turned over to Ford, buckets of money shoved inside into his shirt. “I got us money! And look how much we got!” He pulls a ten dollar bill from his stack in his shirt. “Stanford, this the best thing that’s ever happened to us so far.” Ford looks at him, unsure. “I’m not a fan of ripping people off,” Stan’s hands fall to his sides. “It’s their choice to throw money at me like a madman. Listen, if we get more money, we can stock up on good materials to fix the portal, like really good parts and we can finally bring [Name] back.” Ford stewed in his thoughts for a little more. He hated to admit, but Stan was right. With a little more money, they could be sailing straight to victory with a higher chance of your return. Ford let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, but I don’t want you to mess with my stuff, got it?” Stan beamed brightly. “I promise!” He broke that later on.

✶ Gradually, the scary shed in the woods turned into a tourist spot people would frequent. Together, they advertised the shack by plastering various signs and posters all over the woods. They even went as far to tape advertisements onto people’s windows. Ford wanted to use actual beasts he had found in the woods to show to people, but in the end they all ran away, horrified for their lives. Ford was respectfully peeved because when he’d glance over to Stan, he had somehow had the crowd hanging on to every word that spilled out of his mouth. And when he’d show the crudely sewed animal he had made within five minutes before the tour started, they all gasped in delight, their money flying to him. “How do you do it?” Ford asks as Stan closes the door, reveling in the pool of money he had made. “I just say whatever comes to mind.” Stan shrugs. “But none of your stories make any sense logically! How did they believe in a half beaver half bat?” He gestures to the taxidermy animal. The beady eyes were slowly sliding off its face, leaving a trail of glue. “Hey, the people love to spend their money on things that are obviously fake, weirdly enough.” The door rattles with a knock. “Wanna take this next crowd? I gotta sort this money.” Against his will, not really, Ford opens the door and flashes an award winning smile he had learned from Stan. Cash was already being shoved in his face. At least he earns money for looking good. Ford attempted Stan’s whole shtick and to his very surprise it worked! It wasn’t as good as Stan’s performance, but it worked well enough that people were swarming him with cash. His bitterness from before was quickly washed over and he continued on his act. When the crowd dispersed, satisfied with their tour. Stan was there in the middle, clapping widely. “That was some good acting there, Ford!” Ford smiled, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m only doing this cause we need the money.”

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sanemistar · 2 months

Text

misunderstanding | sanemi shinazugawa

pairing: sanemi x fem!reader

genre: angst to fluff

wc: 2.7k

warnings: sanemi might be a bit ooc at some points oops, usage of nicknames (princess), slight swearing, not proof-read

notes: divider by @cafekitsune

synopsis: sanemi accidentally walks in on you talking to giyuu and heard you say ‘i love you’ to him, but instantly runs away before knowing your true intentions.

to everyone around you, it was no secret that you were head over heels for none other than sanemi shinazugawa, the wind pillar, everyone but the wind pillar himself. you stuck to him like glue, spending time with him more than any other hashira. you definitely played favorites and never tried to hide that your favorite out of everyone was sanemi.

and it was the same for him, you were the only one whom he never dared to raise his voice against nor looked so angrily at, his soft voice and gentle gaze were only exclusive to you.

he felt so relaxed and at peace around you in a way like never before. to him, no one else mattered but you. you were just exceptional in his eyes, your delicacy when sparing, your cheerful and bright personality that shone as bright as the sun, lighting up his dull world, your infinite kindness towards everyone around you (especially to his little brother) these were all some of the many, many things he really admired about you.

one day after a long hashira training session sanemi went to relax and cool off somewhere when he saw you there, standing next to the water hashira talking about something that seemed to be happy, judging from your sweet smile that made his heart race awfully fast. he was dying to know what made you so happy to the point where a faint blush was making its way onto your beautiful soft cheeks, his curiosity grew and eventually got the best of him as he decided to step closer while being cautious in order not to get caught eavesdropping, so he successfully hid himself behind a big tree and closely watched the two of you in anticipation with one thought on his mind, he must’ve lost his mind. but he couldn’t help it, he was so damn crazy about you.

however, at that exact moment he instantly regretted his decision to step closer. the moment where he felt his world fell apart and crumbled right in front of his eyes. he should’ve just let you two be, he shouldn’t have indulged into this matter any further, he should’ve quietly walked away. but it was a little too late to do so.

hearing you blurt out ‘i love you’—the sweetest three words anyone could ever hear in their lifetime, to none other than his rival, his nemesis out of all the people he could think of was something sanemi could never prepare himself for even if he wanted to.

he stormed out as quick as the wind before hearing any more love whispers come out of your sweet lips, which caused a big misunderstanding on his part. but little did he know what your true intentions were.

sanemi didn’t know that you were just practicing your confession to him in front of giyuu, asking him for help and advice because you wanted to make sure you gave him the most perfect confession. although that ended up not being so helpful because giyuu wasn’t really that experienced to begin with so he didn’t add anything new, he just gave his approval.

and for the following weeks after, sanemi was avoiding you like his life depended on it. he tried his best to be around you like normal but he failed. he couldn’t handle acting as if he didn’t hear you declaring your love for another man, even though being this far away from you hurt him more than anything else in the world, he couldn’t ignore his feelings for you that were so heartbreakingly overflowing and pretend to see you as nothing more than a friend.

you noticed his obvious distance from you, which was a foreign feeling to you. he no longer asked for you to spar with him like the two of you normally would, you no longer share meals with him either. the two of you barely shared any missions together to your misfortune. the time you spent with sanemi would gradually become less and less until it was close to none, as you two would only briefly meet during hashira meetings. every time you would approach him to ask if anything wrong happened he’d push you away and leave you behind, as if he was starting to build a wall between the two of you.

and it absolutely broke your heart to see things between you and him become like this, you were almost back to being strangers who knew nothing of each other. but you would never allow that to happen, even if he hated you for trying to break the boundaries he put. you wanted to fight for your love and happiness so you could never afford to give up on sanemi anytime soon.

fortunately one day, you were assigned by kagaya-sama to go on quite a long mission with sanemi for the first time in weeks, and you couldn't be any happier. after all, you finally got a chance to spend some alone time with him and you were more determined than ever to take advantage of the chance given and settle this whole thing by then.

despite looking forward to your upcoming journey, you were so awfully nervous to be alone with sanemi after being apart from him all that time. many negative thoughts immediately started racing inside your head, did you upset him? what if hated you, what if he no longer saw any value in being your friend and didn't want to be around you anymore? you felt like you might go insane from being overwhelmed as your heart felt too tight and it became too hard to breathe.

"ya done packin'?" you could hear his low voice coming from behind you as you turned around to face him. eyes meeting for the first time in a while, his lilac eyes looked duller and his face looked very emotionless to the point where you could almost never recognize him. this wasn't the sanemi you knew and fell in love with, you were sure something happened that you weren't aware of.

"yup, all done. let's get going." you get no reaction from him. instead, you watch him leave first as he walked in front of you, letting you get a look of his broad back that blocked almost everything from your sight and forcing you to solely focus on him and him only until you caught up with him and you were walking side by side with him.

the walk to your destination was awfully painful, filled with long extended moments of awkward silence and thick layers of nervousness and anxiety, which you absolutely despised. you wished for the ground to open up and swallow you whole without leaving a single trace of you behind.

you felt your heart pounding like crazy and your mind spiraling as you were dying to know what was on sanemi's mind and what was he feeling at that exact moment. you felt yourself jolting immediately when the back of your hand accidentally brushed against his as your cheeks were now tinted in red. but it went unnoticed since it was too dark to see anything.

finally after hours of walking you reach your destination, and you were instantly met with the sight of a demon almost swallowing a young terrified woman alive. you shifted your entire focus on the scene happening in front of you, with your utmost priority being the safety of the woman and slaying that demon, which was unfortunately an upper moon.

neither you nor sanemi needed to exchange any words, as both of you read each other's minds. you immediately jump right in front of that demon and swiftly snatch the woman away, leading her away from the fight scene and after making sure she ran away somewhere safe you ran to where sanemi was to assist him in killing the demon.

it was such an intense fight, as expected, defeating an upper moon was never anything easy no matter how experienced you were. you huffed as you tried to catch your breath while letting sanemi handle things before resuming your fight.

things were going well and you almost cut his head when he suddenly disappeared from your sight before you could even notice. you fret for a split second and before you or sanemi got any chance to react and dodge that hit, the demon fiercely hit you behind your back and strongly knocked you down.

sanemi panicked upon seeing you take the fall but he couldn't rush to your side even if he desperately wanted to, he had to take care of that demon first. filled with rage as a result, he violently cut the demon's head and immediately ran to where you laid, sweat intensely forming on his face, his vision was getting blurry as hot fresh tears ran down his scarred cheeks while holding your body delicately in his arms.

"fuck! no, no, no, please y/n, please stay with me!" you could faintly hear him plead with a distressed expression written all over his face. you hopelessly try to extend your arms and your hand comes in contact with his rough skin, causing him to get all tensed up.

"sa..nemi." you had barely managed to say his name before you lost consciousness and he felt very shaken. it was your first time calling him by his first time, but he didn't have the time to get excited about that. he hurriedly carried you in his arms and ran towards the butterfly mansion, not even waiting for the kakushi to come and help aid you.

you were so badly injured that you went into a coma, and throughout that whole time sanemi never left your side, only leaving you when he used to the bathroom and during his short hours of sleep. how could he sleep peacefully at night when he wasn't sure if you were going to ever wake up again or not.

one night giyuu rushed to visit you after he found out what happened to you while he was on a mission, and he was met with sanemi sitting next to you who had awful dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep and a pale complexion from skipping meals. he quietly sat next to him, layers upon layers of heavy silence filled the atmosphere before giyuu decided to speak up, breaking the awkwardness that was all over the room.

"how is she?" he began asking frantically. it was new for giyuu to show any expression, he was known for being calm and composed at all times. so this was a bit out of character for him, to which sanemi felt his heart clench. obviously he'd be worried about you, you were his lover after all.

"she will wake up soon. she's so strong. you should have more faith in y/n, yeah? i mean, she's your girl." sanemi speaks firmly as he was about to leave the room, when he was stopped by giyuu's surprised expression.

"what are you even talking about, shinazugawa?" sanemi felt absolutely enraged as his veins popped off. was he really playing dumb just now?

"are you fuckin' kidding me, tomioka? don't you dare play dumb straight to my face! i heard y/n confessing to you the other day." sanemi finally snapped, after holding it in for so long for your sake. he didn't want to lash out on you because he was afraid that you would hate him for it.

at that particular moment, giyuu remembered that you once told him that you were concerned about sanemi's sudden distance but back then both of you failed at coming to a conclusion for his behavior. so it took giyuu a brief moment to connect the dots together and finally solved the mystery.

"calm down, shinazugawa. you're misunderstanding something here. let's talk outside, i'll explain everything." giyuu calmly instructed sanemi outside and he followed.

a misunderstanding? what was there to misunderstand? that word kept lingering in the back of sanemi's mind until they went outside your room.

giyuu sighed deeply as he started explaining the events of that day to sanemi.

"back then those words of affection that she said weren't meant for me. she was actually practicing how to confess her feelings for you with me since she was too nervous about it."

sanemi froze in his place upon hearing giyuu's announcement, his mind trying hard to process what he was told earlier. you? in love with him? he couldn't believe it. you were the exact opposite from him, you were the definition of perfection, while he was the definition of imperfection. he felt so undeserving of your love, so the thought of you having such feelings for him never really crossed his mind. he simply never dared to ask for anything like that because he all this time he thought he was way out of your league.

"i can't believe you were the only one who never noticed y/n's feelings when they were so obvious." that was the only time when sanemi couldn't talk back to giyuu. words were stuck in his throat, suffocating him harshly. was he really the only oblivious one?

and then waves of regret mercilessly hit him like a truck, he started regretting every single moment he pushed you away whenever you tried to strike a conversation with him. he felt himself slowly drown in despair when he was cut off by giyuu's pat on his stiff shoulder.

"you better clear this up with y/n once she recovers. don't waste any more chances." and that was sanemi's wake up call. he tightly held your hand that night, with teary eyes and a heavy heart. sanemi was praying to God that you wake up safely so he could give you the proper apology you deserve and ask for your forgiveness.

fast forward to a month later and you finally had woken up from your deep sleep. the moment you opened your eyes you felt sanemi's strong arms tightly wrapped around your body, and you let yourself melt into his touch.

he broke the hug and tears fell from his red eyes onto his scarred cheeks, and you had no idea how painful it was to see him cry for the first time. it never occurred to you that he could be this vulnerable.

"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry for everything, y/n. i should've noticed your feelings earlier, i should've acted quicker. but i was a fucking fool thinking that my love for you was one-sided... i love you, y/n. very desperately at that."

this time, it was time for you to cry, in an incredible moment of relief and sweetness. for the first time in your life, you experienced tears of joy. you never knew that your heart could feel so light even though your tears were overflowing.

sanemi extended his hand and caressed your hot cheek, wiping away your tears gently. his gaze locked solely on you as if you were the only person in his world.

"i love you too, sanemi."

the mood felt too right at this very particular moment so without much thinking, you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. causing the two of you to blush like crazy.

sanemi always imagined the feeling of your soft lips against his, but he could swear on his life that experiencing it actually happening felt much better than he could've ever imagined, despite it being quite short.

"since you didn't let me surprise you with my confession, i stole your lips in return." you never knew that you could be this smooth with your words, probably because you were acting in the heat of the moment. he smiled at your playful words as he found your behavior so incredibly adorable.

"so will you give me the honor of being your boyfriend, my princess?"

"of course, my beloved idiotic prince." you happily announced as he embraced you in his arms once again as you buried your face on the side of his neck.

and at that moment he made a promise to himself that he would never let go of you until his very last day.

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f1goat · 3 months

Text

roommates ; lando norris + part eight

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: smut & not proofread

Lando: Still not happy about you having your own hotel room

You let out a soft chuckle when you read Lando’s text message. Since you have gotten here on Wednesday, Lando has been whining about you having your own hotel room. You typ a reply, reminding him that it was him that booked the room for you. After getting back multiple sad smileys, you leave your phone alone. For now you have to focus on what you’re going to wear.

When Lando wasn’t whining about you having your own room, he has been whining about you not wearing his merchandise. So, when he started whining about that again today, you decided to change up your outfit after the third free practice. Lando however did think you’d be his after the third practice, but was disappointed to find out that you were already on your way back to the hotel.

While looking in the mirror, you touch up your make up a bit. You’re pretty sure that you’ll be on a lot of gossip accounts after wearing this to the track. You don’t even know how Max is going to respond - you could always say that you’ve lost a bet? After spraying on some perfume, you take one last look in the mirror. Your reflection looks back at you. Dressed in a hoodie that you’ve snatched away from Lando his room recently, it’s pretty clear who you’re supporting. Lando his surname is all over the hoodie. Max is either going to laugh at you or be mad. Oops.

In the mean time Lando is waiting impatiently for you to get back to the track. He almost feels annoyed with you for not being here. Your attention has been snatched away since you’re here. Not that Lando can blame you. He does however blame himself for getting you your own room. When he booked the room, he didn’t know yet that things would change between you two. It would be better if you shared his room with him. In some weird way Lando feels more peaceful while sleeping with you.

He sighs when he sees another text from you coming in, telling him that you’re stopping by RedBull first to talk with your brother. This is what he meant. Lando can’t believe himself for feeling this way, but he realizes what a luxury it is to have you in his home normally. Before he realizes what he’s doing, Lando is already walking towards the RedBull motorhome as well. The gossip accounts will love this probably. He already wonders what kind of rumors they will make up to fit by the pictures.

“Lando?” Max asks surprised when he sees his friend. Lando wants to reply, he really does, but then he notices you. The words that were almost out of his mouth, are quick to vanish. He can only focus on you. Fuck, he shouldn’t have come to RedBull. If he had you at the McLaren motorhome right now, he would drag you in his room and have his way with you until he really had to leave for qualifying.

Lando can’t look away from you. He feels insane for responding like this, but he can’t focus on anything else then you right now. He can’t believe that you’re actually wearing his merchandise. Now that he takes a better look at it, Lando even starts to think that you’ve gotten this hoodie out of his closet. Something he only likes more.

“What are you doing here Lando?” Max asks again.

This time the words come in. Lando thinks about a reply, but doesn’t know one. What is he doing here? He’s only here because he was too impatient to wait for you coming back to him. He probably shouldn’t say that.

“Uh, picking up y/n,” Lando eventually lies. Although is it really a lie? He is here to take you with him towards the McLaren motorhome. “I told her I’d show her the McLaren motorhome,” he continues. You almost laugh when you hear Lando his obvious lies. When you look at your brother and jokingly shake your head, Max has to hold back a laugh as well.

“Desperate excuse mate,” Max chuckles, “but have fun together.”

Lando can’t help and lets out a soft nervous laugh as well. He’s bad at this. When he feels your hand around his upper arm, he shows you a soft grateful smile. “Let’s go,” you tell him. Lando nods. The both of you wish Max luck on his own qualifications and then turn away from the RedBull motorhome.

“So I’m going to get a whole tour?” You jokingly ask Lando.

Lando scoffs. “You’re getting a tour of the couch in my drivers room,” he states with a soft voice, “You’re going to find out how it feels to get fucked onto it.”

You feel your cheeks heating up from the way Lando talks to you. When he shows you a small grin after those words, you’re pretty sure that you’ve actually fallen for him. This isn’t some silly little crush anymore. You really like him. Fuck.

Within minutes Lando has you inside of the McLaren motorhome, hurried he walks with you towards his own driver room. There isn’t much time left and he really needs to fuck you in these clothes before having to qualify. You on the other hand are focussed on how different the McLaren motorhome looks. Normally Lando would have found your questions and interest adorable, but now he really needs to get you to his room. He is already having a hard time with keeping his hands of you, he needs to have you for himself.

Right before he can open up the door and get you finally inside of his room, he walks into Oscar. Fuck. He tries to open his door anyways, but before he can get you in the room with him Oscar is already introducing himself. Lando sighs. How hard can it be to get you for himself?

“You’re y/n right?” Oscar asks you. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. Something you do quickly. “Yes! Nice to meet you Oscar,” you reply.

“What are you doing at McLaren? Aren’t you supposed to support Max right now?” Oscar jokingly asks.

Before you can reply, Lando is already interrupting the conversation. “We really can’t talk right now, will see you later,” he informs Oscar. Then he’s quick to pulls you into his room with him. You can only show Oscar an apologetic look before Lando closes the door. You raise one of your eyebrows while looking at Lando. You’re curious what has him acting like this. The last days he was pretty close with you as well, but nothing like this. This seems like a whole new level.

“You’re acting like you want everyone to find out that we’re fucking,” you playfully accuse Lando.

“Says the one wearing my shirt,” Lando remarks.

Then it clicks. Lando has been begging you to wear something like this. Is this his real reaction to you finally giving in to his pleas? He really must like it then. You feel your cheeks reddening. You really like this reaction. If you knew it would be like this, you would have worn his clothes since the first time he asked.

“So you like it?” You ask.

Lando can’t hold back a smirk. “I love it babygirl,” he tells you. It makes you smile as well. You think about Lando his words from before. “So, where is this couch you were going to give me a tour from?” You ask him sweetly.

Within seconds Lando has you pressed up against the wall. He’s messily kissing you. You feel his soft lips all over your body. His hands are quick to disappear underneath your skirt. He grabs your ass and firmly squeezes your cheeks. It makes you let out a soft yelp. Lando uses the short second in which your mouth is slightly opened to slide his tongue in your mouth. You don’t even try to fight for the dominance.

Softly you let out a moan. You feel Lando smirk against your lips. It makes you almost roll with your eyes. Lando enjoys having you all worked up like this.

“Lan,” you softly whimper when he’s still teasing you. Lando is pressing kisses against your neck. Softly he sucks on a small piece of your skin. He’s leaving a trail of love bites on your skin while moving downwards. It causes you to let out more moans. “Lan,” you whimper again, but louder this time.

Lando stops his movements. He’s waiting for you to say something.

“Please do something,” you beg him.

“So needy,” Lando tells you, “Such a needy girl.”

It makes you only more aroused when Lando speaks to you like this. So when he continues with soft whispers in your ears, he doesn’t even have to do anything else for you to let out a hard moan. Lando chuckles, softly telling you that everyone can hear you like this. Normally you’d feel ashamed, but Lando doesn’t seem to mind it when you let out another moan.

“Let them hear how good I make you feel,” Lando instructs you, “Don’t you dare to hold back.”

He finally slides aside your string. Teasingly he slides his finger through your slit. When he sees your eyes plastered on his face, Lando teases you even more. He takes his finger into his mouth, sucking of your wetness.

“Taste so good princess,” Lando groans.

“Please Lan,” you whine, “Don’t tease.”

It seems like Lando is shaking his head at you. You’re afraid he’s going to tease you a lot more then this. Until you hear a loud knock on his door. The sounds gets you back to reality. Fuck. What is someone walks in on you? Lando notices your shock. He thinks it’s pretty cute. You think it’s less cute when he starts to take of his race suit. Isn’t he stressing about someone walking in?

“Lando!” The person yells through the door, “You have two minutes before you have to get in the car.”

Lando doesn’t back down from you. His race suit is hanging around his ankles. Softly you take his boner in your hands. You guess this is going to be a fast one. Lando doesn’t seem like he wants to stop before fucking you properly.

It doesn’t last long before he shows you that you’re right. Lando slides his finger through your slit again. He uses a bit of your slick to make his dick a bit more sleek.

“I’m serious Lando!” The person yells again.

“Yes, almost ready,” Lando tells them with a loud voice. You hear how the person is walking off.

“Ready princess?” Lando asks you softly. You show him a small nod. That’s all it takes for Lando to slide inside of you. He fucks you on a fast pace. Slamming himself in and out of you. You can’t do anything else then moaning his name. Lando knows how to make you feel good. His finger finds your clit. He traces it.

“Tonight I’m going to take all my time with you,” Lando promises with a soft whisper in your ear, “but only if you ask me nicely if you can cum.”

Within seconds pleas are rolling of your lips. Lando can’t stop smirking. This sight makes him fall even harder for you. He’s quick to tell you that you can cum, only to increase his pace even more. When you let out a long moan, Lando is quick to follow you into his orgasm as well.

“If you’re going to react like this every time I wear you clothes, I think I’ll wear them a lot more often,” you jokingly tell Lando after catching your breath.

“My closet is yours babygirl,” Lando is quick to tell you.

+++

After the race weekend, Lando had to be in MTC for a couple days. Which caused one good thing, you didn’t have to answer his question - what you’re exploring together - for now. That conversation has been delayed. Something you’re quite glad about, because you still have no idea what to answer. After this weekend you can safely say that you’ve fallen in love with Lando, but you’re still not sure about his intentions. Maybe you should speak to Max about this? It wouldn’t surprise you if Max knows more about this.

It only lasted one day for you to get bored in Lando his apartment. Since Max is also busy with training, you can’t visit him as well. Boring. You’re really bored. It caused you to look around in Lando his apartment better. No, you didn’t snoop in his bedroom or game/work room. But you did figure out that Lando really doesn’t know how to decorate.

Something that caused you to finally figure out what to do the next days. If you’re right, Lando is away for two more days. He texted you before that if he was lucky he could come back home tomorrow eve at it’s earliest. So, you have a bit of time left. That’s exactly why you’re busy with putting bags inside of Lando his McLaren. Maybe you should have taken a car with you with a bit more packing space?

“He’s either gonna hate or love me,” you softly mutter to yourself while continuing to press the bags together. Quickly you take a picture of the overloaded trunk and text it to Max.

y/n: time to redecorate

You smile at your phone. Lando did tell you a couple times that he wouldn’t care if you changed a couple things. He even said that you could paint to walls pink at one point. If he lets you drive in his McLaren, he surely doesn’t mind a couple changes to his decor.. Right?

While driving back you think about everything you’ve gathered. It’s not like you’re going to paint his house, but you’re going to make it a bit more homey. It’s not like you’ve only bought stuff which you like, you even went out of your way to meet up with a fan for a fan art of Lando.

Coming back to Lando his apartment, it takes you a while to unload the trunk of his McLaren. Your hands are quite full while walking towards the elevator. When you’re finally back in the apartment and unpacked all your bags, it’s starting to stress you out a bit. What if you bought to many? You try to set aside those thoughts.

You start to focus on redecorating the place. It doesn’t take you long before you see the first changes. It’s a wonder what a couple decorations can do. You can’t wait for tomorrow. You did order a couple things as well which certainly wouldn’t fit in the McLaren. You’re still doubting if you’re going to make changes to Lando his bedroom as well. You did buy some stuff for it, but you’ll probably wait for Lando to come back so he can make that decision.

You almost jump up when you hear the doorbell. You didn’t expect that. Now that you think of it, you expect no one. Should you even open it? What if there’s someone for Lando? Worse thoughts are entering your mind. You can’t stop about thinking about a possibility that there’s a girl standing in front of the door for Lando. You try to discard those thoughts, but it doesn’t work that quickly. It reminds you about the biggest problem you have with answering Lando his question, you don’t know what you’re exploring with him because you don’t know if you can trust him.

After a bit of doubting you walk towards the front door. You’re glad when you see that it’s just Max who’s standing in front of the door. Quickly you open the door for him.

“Max,” you happily greet him, “I was about to call you tonight.”

“Here I am,” Max chuckles.

You try to talk about nothings for a while, but you keep thinking about Lando. You want ask Max multiple questions, he must know something from Lando right? You do however have no idea how to start a conversation about your brothers best friend.

It doesn’t take long before you’re drifting off in your thoughts. You can’t help it. Last days, or better said since your first night with Lando, this keeps happening to you. Since Lando is in Woking it has only gotten worse. It makes you realizes that you’re missing him. You’re actually missing Lando. That can’t be good.

Max is about to say something, but you need to get out your words. You don’t care about interrupting Max for now, you need to speak up because otherwise you probably never will.

“Can I confess something?” You carefully ask Max.

You think about the way you’re going to tell Max. You can’t just confess that you’re fucking with his best friend, right? Max probably thinks you still dislike Lando. For a short moment you wonder about how Max will feel about this? It’s not like he’s going to get mad, right? You let out a soft sigh. Why didn’t you think about this before? There’s a possibility of Max getting mad at you, or at Lando. This is stupid. Before you can say anything else, Max is already talking to you.

“Are you finally going to confess that you’re fucking with Lando?” Max asks you bluntly.

You have no idea how to react to this. You inspect your brothers face. He doesn’t seem mad, but you never sure about that. Then you notice a soft sound coming from Max. It almost sounds like a soft laugh. Is he laughing about this? You look at your brother again. He is in fact laughing at you.

“I’m not mad,” Max quickly tells you, “and you can’t be mad at Lando for telling me. He has been waiting for this to happen for ages.”

That makes you even more silent. Lando has been waiting for this to happen for ages? Just to have sex with you or for more?

“Fuck I’ve said too much.” Max is quick to realize his mistake. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he pleads you.

“What did you mean with it?” You ask Max.

“Answer my question first,” Max tells you, “What do you feel for Lando?”

This time you don’t hold back. You’ve been waiting for someone to ask you this. It feels like a weight gets lifted off your chest while confessing to your brother how you actually feel about Lando.

“I think I’m in love with him,” you confess, “Is that bad? It’s just that I miss him since he has left my side and I can’t stop thinking about him.” You fall silent for a bit. You try to gather your thoughts and to make out a normal sentence. “I uh, I just feel different around Lando. He’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before, not even with my ex,” you confess to Max, “but..”

“I was already waiting for the but,” Max says.

“I don’t know if I can trust him,” you sigh, “I mean, he’s a player. Right? What if this is something else for him?”

“He was only fucking other girls because he thought he couldn’t get you,” Max confesses for his friend, “but I can’t tell you more then that. Trust him and you’ll find out quick enough that he’s head over heels for you.”

part nine

a/n ; thinking about ending this story soon - my inspiration is quite gone. hopefully some new ideas will hit me soon :) you can always send in request (not promising i'll write everything!) thanks for the support!!

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anundyingfidelity · 11 months

Text

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader

Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

Word count: 3.9k.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.

Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

It's harder to stay...

Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.

The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.

Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.

"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.

Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"

The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.

"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.

"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.

"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.

During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.

"So it's personal..."

"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.

"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

2029, Sacred Timeline

When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.

But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.

You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.

At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.

Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.

He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.

So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.

Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.

The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.

"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.

You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.

"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.

All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."

"Loki, I saw you die..."

Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.

"I know you did, my love."

You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.

And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.

"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"

Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.

"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."

"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."

"What?" you mumbled.

Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?

"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.

Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"

He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."

You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.

"Your death was supposed to be then?"

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.

Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.

Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.

"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"

"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.

You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."

Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"

"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."

"Or you could do both."

"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, Loki."

"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."

You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."

Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.

You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.

"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."

"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."

"No,I can't-"

"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."

Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.

"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."

And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."

Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.

When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.

"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.

Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."

His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.

You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."

"Thank you, love."

Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.

"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.

"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.

So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.

Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.

"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.

"I love you too."

Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.

The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.

So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.

He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.

Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.

At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.

"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."

"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.

"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.

"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.

"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."

And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.

You were right. Mobius was a good friend.

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tva loki x reader #tva loki x female reader #tva!loki x reader #loki imagines #loki angst #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series fanfiction #loki season 2 #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki #loki series

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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headpats from little shrimpy!

Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining.

Summary: Floyd doesn't know if YOU know that merpeople show they're interested in each other with physical contact, but one head pat from you and he's lost all forms of self restraint. Oops!

Author's Comments: Okay as someone who is HEAVILY FIXATED on moray eels and knows too many things about them and how they interact with other morays (+ shrimp in mcs case) this is such a TREAT. I LOVE THIS. Granted it's not scientific at all but still. Cute.

~~~~~

It would have been such an unimportant action to anyone else.

Having a cute little Shrimpy pat you on the head as they passed by with the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else.

But it mattered to Floyd Leech.

It mattered a lot.

It mattered so much, in fact, that he froze in his chair and stared at your retreating back. Was it just his imagination, or were you walking faster? Jolting out of his seat, he made a run for you and prayed he’d catch you before you disappeared into Azul’s office.

Unfortunately, you made it. Boo. No fun.

Floyd pouted, jiggling the locked doorknob. Azul had a habit of locking it when he was in a meeting, and that’s exactly what he told Floyd after he told him to go away.

How unfair! His Shrimpy was in there!

Officially in a sour mood, Floyd went back to the booth he was sitting in and pouted. He’d just wait for you to come out and grill you with questions! Yeah, he could do that!

...

Floyd Leech could not do that.

He ended up pacing around the Mostro Lounge for a few hours, passing through the kitchen to talk to Jade before he got bored again.

“Did you see Shrimpy pass through here?” Floyd asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the seventh time, “I’ve been waiting for them but they haven’t come out of the VIP Room!”

“The Prefect? They left about ten minutes ago.” Jade hummed, focusing on his simmering cream of mushroom soup.

Floyd wrinkled his nose at the pot before darting away from the kitchen, intent on finding you before you escaped from him once again. You must have slipped out while he wasn’t looking! You couldn’t just pat his head and not say anything!

It wasn’t like you knew the implications, but physical touch was a way for merfolk to show that they were romantically interested in each other. Floyd felt his mood souring even more when he realized that you might have just done that to do it. It might have not even meant anything to you.

“Boo. Shrimpy better have meant it.” he huffed.

It was like the entire school could tell that Floyd was in a bad mood, because nobody dared to stop him as he ran through the halls. Riddle looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he ducked into a nearby classroom. Floyd didn’t have time to antagonize him right now, though—finding Shrimpy and asking them about their head pat was more important!

Before he knew it, Floyd was bursting through the Ramshackle gate and sprinting up to your front door. You weren’t anywhere to be seen on the front lawn, so Floyd hoped you were inside. If he had to look for you any longer he’d be grumpy for the next week.

“Shrimpyyyy!” he called out, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther, “Lemme in! I wanna talk to you!”

He heard loud thumping inside as you rushed down the stairs, the sound of the lock on the door jiggling making him bounce on the tips of his toes.

“Shrimpy!” he beamed, throwing his arms around you the second the door was open.

“Hi, Floyd.” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly as he leaned over you, crushing you against his chest.

“Hey, hey! Didja mean it? You better have meant it!” he pulled away only to shake you by the shoulders, “If you didn’t mean it I’m gonna be so upset!”

“Oh...Oh, that.” you mumbled, squirming in his hold, “I...You mean the head pat, right?”

“Yes!” he whined, shaking you harder, “Do you like me like that?!”

“Like what?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Like you wanna date me!” Floyd huffed, finally letting you go.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes glued to your face in hopes of an answer. You felt your face heat up at the scrutiny, turning away so you didn’t have to look directly at him.

“Well...yeah.” you mumbled, “I asked Jade what I could do to, um...make you realize that I like you. And he told me that merpeople...really value physical contact? So I thought if I just gave you a head pat that might be good enough...? And I guess it was.”

“Awww, that’s so cute. You went to Jade for help?” Floyd laughed, the high pitched giggles easing your nerves just a bit, “Well lucky you, Shrimpy! I accept. Now come here.”

Floyd pulled you back into his chest and patted your head gently, and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace.

“Cute Shrimpy.” he giggled into your hair, squeezing you tightly, “I’m gonna squeeze you every day now!”

#auburn's fics <3 #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech is a silly guy #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd fluff

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fic-over-cannon · 12 days

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Jason todd who finds out, though not from you telling him he just knows how to use his eyes, youre insecure about something. Your nose, eye color, not so white teeth. Unconventional things that nobody else really stops to think about.

But dont you know he could get lost in your eyes and he makes sure to do it often.

Suddenly he's booping your nose with his more, kissing the end of your nose etc.

Whitening strips appear in the bathroom "cuz he wanted to try em"

He never says anything about it, just does little things. When your insecurities shift to bigger things like height and weight, suddenly theres a step stool in the kitchen even though you didnt ask, (or if your tall he has emptied the lower cabinets and moved everything high up for the both of you), when he buys the groceries theres either sharpie or torn paper where the nutri' info used to be, oh did you wanna know the carb count, too bad he dropped the package in the sink and smeared the ink oops

this prompt was so beautifully written, it feels so in-character for him. jason's own body issues come into play with this, i think his own struggles make him perfect not only for noticing when someone doesn't like aspects of themselves but also the long road to learning to love yourself anyway. i hope you enjoy my little expansion on this!

Jason's got years of struggling to fit into a body he doesn't recognize under his belt to know the signs when someone's feeling insecure about something. He's seen it in the mirror often enough. So he notices when your eyes glide over a feature of your face, the way you stiffen when someone makes a remark (good or bad) about your appearance, how you'll spend too much time reading food labels. Catalogues the way you cover your teeth with your hand when you smile, frown at your side profile, huff at the sizes printed on your clothes.

Don't you know that all he wants is forever with you? That he doesn't care what package that's wrapped in as long as you're together? Every time he looks at you, he finds something more to love. The slope of your nose, the curve of your brow, the way the colour of your eyes is slightly different around your irises. He wants to kiss the sharp point of your elbow, the fullness of your belly, the top of your head. He loves the way you smile, how it takes up your whole face. Jason doesn't see what you call flaws as anything but the little details that make up you. But that's not how you feel.

So he starts making changes, little ones, without prompting or owning up to them. There's a step stool in the kitchen one morning and the cabinets are reorganized. The scale in the bathroom suddenly never has batteries to work. Labels and food packages always turn up ink splattered or torn. The harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom gets switched out for something softer that doesn't have you worrying about looking ill anymore. There's a ladder - the same kind as in Beauty and the Beast, the kind you've always wanted - attached to the bookshelf now. The sticky window, the one that had always secretly made you worry about being too weak suddenly opens just fine.

Little sticky notes start appearing on your mirror every morning, i love yous and looking gorgeous circled with hearts and stars. Must be the mirror learnin' to speak, he says when you ask.

Jason will help you take as many pictures as you want, but he'll go through them with you after and tell you a different thing he loves about you in each one. You brush him off at first, uncomfortable with the praise of the parts you wish he wouldn't notice. Jason understands that knee-jerk urge to deflect, to hide. But one day he hopes it'll grow a little less automatic.

You've shown Jason how to love his body, to inhabit it, own it, to come alive with it. Now he wants to do the same for you.

#jason todd x reader #sweet words for sunnie #snack fic #sunnie writes 🌻

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adoresia · 1 year

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✦˚₊ TRUST ME I GOT NOTHING FOR YOU OTHER THAN LOVE…

Pairing : E42 Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Miles finds it hard to open up to you about whats going on in his life, after a little persuading he finally tells you about whats bothering him so much.

Sierra speaks : FIRST OF ALL… thank you guys so much for all the love on my last fic it means so much to me🫶🏾🥹 it took so long for me to build up the courage to start posting… Here is another fic i had in my notes to make you guys happy! I litterally have a bunch of fics and fic ideas stored for myself and now..im sharing them with you!🥳 enjoy!! also this is a little longer than i had planned…

Warnings ❕: Miles almost crying 🥹, rubbish spanish, heavly suggestive (oops), kissing, cussing, teasing???.

Listen too’s :

YALL BETTER LISTEN TO THE SONGS I PAIR WITH THESE FICS ISTG.

You leaned on the railing on your balcony, eyes fixated on Miles’s tall figure walking back and forth outside your apartment complex.

It was well pass midnight and the street lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness of your Brooklyn neighbourhood.

He was by himself smoking a blunt. He knew you hated when he smoked so he attempted to keep it from you, however this time he couldn’t really hold himself back.

Life was dragging him through the dirt right now, with the passing of his father and the pressure of being prowler on his back, you could almost mistake Miles for being mute. A part of his life had been ripped away.

And you couldn’t blame him.

It was a struggle for him to open up to you, and despite being together for almost a year, he still struggled to talk to you, to fully open up to you. And even though you welcomed him into your life with open arms, he still did not feel complete. Nothing could replace what he had lost.

Before Miles had found himself outside the both of you were cuddling. With Miles laid between both of your legs, his head rested on your chest while you massaged his scalp with your nails.

Since his arrival he had not uttered a word to you apart from :

“hey baby, ima just stay here from a bit if thats okay.”

He hugged you tight, even tighter than ever before. You could tell something was up, but you let him go at his own pace, weather he wanted to tell you about it or not he knew you would always be there for him.

So here you both lay in silence on your bed, your sheets draped over the both of you. It was like that for an hour. Miles fiddling with the hem of your bra staring at your desk chair.

He blinked like 20 times in the last hour, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He looked so over it, and it pained you that there was nothing you could do to help him liven up a little. You kept assuring yourself that it would be temporary. Seeing Miles sad made you sad.

But as the minuted went by Miles stay lost in his sunken thoughts. You couldn’t bare watch him in this state for any longer, even if it meant you had to push him a little.

“What’s wrong hermoso? i’ve never seen you so…down.”

“Nada, Mami. just... thinking.”

“About what papa? sabes que puedes decirme cualquier cosa.”

Miles responded with a hum, not bothering to open his mouth again as it was smushed against your cleavage. The familiar sound of silence re-entered the room, theres nothing else you could say.

“Ima go outside for a bit baby, ill be back.”

He lifted himself off of you so suddenly, sliding on his shoes and giving you a peck on the top of your head without even giving you time to process.

“Where are you going? do you want me to come with-“

“No. I’ll only be a few seconds chiquita.”

“but.”

There were no ‘buts’ he had already shut your door before you could bombard him with questions. Instead your mind filled with them.

Did you push him away? Did you ask too much? say, too much?

Thats how you found yourself staring down at him in the middle of the night, worried. His puffer jacket stay thrown on your desk chair, he had not even thought about bringing it with him, knowing it was quite cold outside. Was he really that desperate to leave? to leave you?

You took a deep breath and decided it was about time you went down for him. You picked up your hoodie, or rather his hoodie; one you stole from him when you went over to his place, sliding into it like a huge blanket.

You put on your slides and grabbed his puffer jacket. Leaving your phone behind.

Pressing on the exit button of your apartment complex you stepped outside. Making sure to put a block on the door so it wouldn’t close, trapping you outside.

You walked towards him almost tip toeing so he couldn’t hear you. You came to a stop behind him watching the smoke blow away with the wind while he brought his arm down beside him, blunt in hand.

“I know your there ma.”

“…”

he laughed looking over his shoulder, you smiled handing him his puffer.

“Its so cold out here even this hoodie isn’t doing me justice, put your jacket on Milo.”

He took his jacket from your hands holding it to his side, seemingly unfazed by your words and the cold.

“Not as an accessory, miles. Put it on. Please.”

“You’re shivering ma, you look like you need it more than i do.”

And instead he places each of the arm holes over your shoulder. You gave up, there was no point in convincing him, and anyways you were still cold even with his giant hoodie on. Goosebumps laddered on your thighs because of your extra short- shorts.

“Hand me the blunt at least. You know i don’t like when you smoke.”

You held your hand out so he could replace the cold air blowing over your palm with the wrapped blunt.

“Yeah im sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything if your not gonna change.”

“I know ma. I promise I’ll try.”

“Good.” You stood in-front of him, squinting your eyes.

“Where yo glasses?”

“Inside.”

“Why didn’t you bring them?”

“Because i wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Which actually beings me to why i’m here. I’m worried about you, Miles. You won’t talk to me and if you let these feelings bottle up inside you it won’t…end well.”

“What your gonna break up with me if i dont talk?”

“No… i meant-“

“Then i don’t need to talk. As long as i have you with me theres no need to worry.”

Silence filled the atmosphere between you two again. Miles could sense your disappointment. He let a moment go by watching you huff as you gave up trying to figure out whats wrong with him. You started to make your way back to your apartment before he stopped you with his words.

“Its Ma.”

You spun yourself around to face his back.

“mhmmm.” you signalled for him to continue, walking towards him.

“I aint never seen her this down since dad passed. Her job is taking every single ounce of energy and happiness out of her, she leaves at like 6 in the morning to come home at God knows what time during the night and falls asleep on the couch. She doesn’t have time to even get anything to eat before she has to get up again the next morning to go to work. I can count on my fingers the amount of words she’s said to me this whole week. And last night…”

He came to an abrupt stop, bringing his pointer finger and thumb up to the inner part of his eyes trying to stop himself from crying in front of you.

He let his bottom lip fall letting out a sigh.

“Its okay Milo, you don’t have to finish the rest if you don’t want to. It’s just you and me bonito you can cry, déjalo salir.”

Still with your reassurance he refused to let you see him in this state, but was unable to control the single tear that threatened to drop.

You wiped both his eyes with the pads of your thumb until there was no tears left on his face or his waterline.

“Milo, you don’t have to act all big nd tuff around me. Everyone cries yknow?” you looked up at him while wrapping your arms around him.

“You are so good to me mi amor, ion deserve you.”

“Corny. But i know.” you smiled closing your eyes in his embrace.

he laughed breathily before giving you a kiss to your forehead.

He held your hand turning his head signaling for you both to go back inside.

“It’s low-key getting a bit cold now. I think the only thing keeping me warm was that weed.”

He looked at the now smushed up ball what remained from his blunt. Before eyeing you up and down.

“Cmon lets go, not even these two layers are keeping me warm.”

You pulled on his arm directing him back inside the apartment complex.

Once you got to your door you scrambled everywhere for your keys. Your short pockets, Jacket pockets, hoodie pockets, shit you even checked your afro. Before you thought back to when you grabbed Miles’s jacket and left the room while your keys sat still on your desk.

“Fuck. were locked out.”

“You for real?”

“Nah im just pretending i left the keys inside so we can stay out here in the cold.” you rolled your eyes, thinking maybe that wouldn’t he a bad idea as long as you were with Miles.

He leaned against the wall next to your apartment door pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, the beat of his heart ringing in your ears.

His lips hovered over your head before placing gentle kisses on your scalp.

“How many kisses are you gonna give me Milo.”

“You want me to stop?”

“No..” You smiled to yourself.

“Then stop complaining.”

Lifting his hand from your waist Miles cupped your chin lifting it up so that your eyes would lay on his. His pupil fell to your lips and then back to your eyes. You knew what was up.

“No.”

“Fuck you mean ‘No’.”

Miles mimicked you while you laughed at him, he looked at you unamused.

“Im joking Milo, kiss me.”

“No.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN NO?”

Now it was Miles’s turn to laugh, although you didn’t find it funny a smile still crept up on your face as you narrowed your eyes at him and pondered.

His laugh reminded you of him 2 years ago, when he had a softer personality, happily striding to you or anyone around him with a proud smile on his face, you missed it. And you know he did too.

You stood up still leaning on him but on the tip of your toes. You wrapped your hand around his nape and pulled him in for a well anticipated kiss.

Your lips locked with his, coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. For a moment you envisioned kissing Miles for the first time a year ago, how he didn’t see you coming when you pecked him on the lips. And how he pulled you back kissing you desperately with deep desire.

You lifted up your other arm and wrapped it around his neck while you played with the tip of his braids. Miles wondered his hands down from underneath your shirt to just under your ass. His fingers pushed gently against your skin shooting tingles throughout your body.

At this point your knees were getting weak as your head swayed against his, your mind went into a haze as the heat from the kiss sent you into a bliss. You felt Miles tug on your bottom lip granting himself access to your mouth.

Both your heads sped up the pace bobbing over eachother in sync, Miles feeling insatiable lifted you up to sit on his hips as he turned you both around. You now leaned back on the wall while he rubbed the bottom of your thighs still insatiably kissing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed with pleasure until he pulled away, you both stared into eachothers narrowed eyes breathing heavily.

“Fuck if we were inside right now, the things i’d do to you mami.”

“Break down the door if your that desperate.”

His head fell into your chest as he chuckled. You laid your head on top of his for a while before he let you down.

You both sat outside your apartment door, you on top of miles in a fetal position. Your coat draped over the two of you (barley) as he stroked your forehead with his thumb.

“Te quiero mucho ma, hasta la luna y de regreso.”

He whispered before placing another kiss on your forehead.

“hmm? whatchu say Milo?”

“Nada mami, cierra tus ojos.”

Extrs :

— Yeah your keys were inside, but so were your parents😭 so when your mom opened the door that morning to head of to work the both of you lay there snoring, with your arms wrapped around eachother.

— When you took Miles’s blunt you tried a little yourself 🤫

“Ma.. what are you-”

*heavy coughing*

“so im not allowed but you are-?”

“sh. i was just seeing what the hype was all about *cough* I-I feel like im dying”

Miles just laughs at you.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platforms.

#🖋️ sierra writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #spiderman atsv #atsv miles #prowler miles #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you

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abiatackerman · 4 months

Text

"Levi x Reader" Masterlist

Oneshots:

(Aot era)

Daddy's little rival

Just Levi and his son are fighting over you on a weekend afternoon!!!

Oops! Daddy said the "F" word?!

What happens when Levi accidentally curses in front of his own son? Of course his son starts repeating him too!

Interrupted by brats

What can be worse for Levi when the brats interrupt his kissing twice? You'll be leaving for a week and he can't even properly give you a goodbye kiss! He'll definitely punish the brats for this!!!!

Food fight and forgiven kisses

After having a rough fight with Levi, you decide not to eat anything. Being defeated by your stubbornness, Levi throws you over his shoulder to feed you himself.

Healing touches

Hiding sickness is nothing unexpected when it comes to Levi Ackerman, but he always fails to hide it from you. But he's not minding it since your soft touches never fails to heal him up.

Silly Jealousy

Doesn't matter if it's just a young recruit who has a crush on you, you're his! All he wants to do is throw this boy out of the window and cuddle you....

Love lost, peace gained (angst)

"Congratulations to your marriage, Levi Ackerman. I hope you'll have a happy life."

You say smiling softly as you take your last look at him. Last look at him as "Your Levi"

Sweet nothings to the baby bump

Nothing is more adorable than Levi talking sweetly with the baby who's currently in your bump... Who ever thought humanity's strongest soldier can be this gentle?

Sass War: Levi Vs Y/N

Why would Levi have to be the only one with a smart mouth? Nope, you're not gonna let him win this time... You'll have a "SWEET" fight with him over words today!

Morning kisses and pancakes

"Husband Levi Ackerman" cooks your breakfast while you sleep comfortably. Then gently waking you up he feeds you and it feels nothing but a dream to you two!

Period cramps

You never thought out of everyone, Levi Ackerman will massage your abdomen while you're having cramps.... It's not like you're complaining because it feels so good!

Reverse "Healing Touches"

Just a description of "Boyfriend Levi Ackerman" taking care of her sweetest girlfriend while she's sick!

Frosty night, warm embraces

The cold is nothing compared to Levi's warmth.... You sigh with content and close your eyes, hugging him tightly and fall asleep with a smile...

BITE

A bite mark on your skin and you still expect Levi to remain calm? He doesn't care if it's a bug bite, only "HE" is the one who can bite you...

Too late (angst)

He thought you both had enough time and that's why he rejected you.... But this world is cruel... It never fails to show its cruelty to him...

Wine and drunken whispers

Nothing but Levi taking you to your room after you get drunk. Being the sweetest person he is, he takes care of you grumpily and stays with you until you fall asleep.....

Sweet Banters

Levi scolds you for skipping meals, for not taking care of yourself. Instead of taking his concern seriously you tease Levi by calling him "Princess" and "Pookie", flustering him despite his tough demeanor.

Sweat Soaked Confessions

Typical Levi, who was sick, was pushing himself as far as could and was sweating due to the forced efforts. Getting mad you start to snap at him, but the snapping turns suddenly into something else.

First date

Levi has finally invited you on a date, indirectly. Since it's Levi, he takes you to a calm countryside so that you both will be able to enjoy the beautiful sunset.

Red Date (NSFW)

Everything is red, your dress, your lips, the wine.... And your cheeks too after you and Levi share the intense kiss 💋

Falling asleep with Levi

Nothing can give you or Levi more peace than falling asleep together while cuddling. It's a dream for both of you......

Yandere talks

Why does each and every possessive word of him sound so sexy? His Yandere behaviour never fails to turn you on...

Desk war and pencil swords

Just you and Levi, having sweet conversations and funny dramas while doing paperwork together....

(Modern Era) (Requests are open):

Detective Levi x Doctor Levi (NSFW)

You work in the same organisation where the best detective of your country, Levi Ackerman works. Since it's not a rare thing for you to heal him both physically and mentally, it also shouldn't be a surprising fact if you find out he likes you, right?

Teacher Levi x Student reader

You have an "open-secret" crush on the most stoic professor of your college, on Professor Levi Ackerman. When your crush calls you in his office room and asks if you can keep a secret or not, can you say no?

Additional:

Levi Ackerman as your boyfriend

This is how "I" head cannon Levi, as a boyfriend. You can head cannon him in your way and I have nothing against you. So please, no hate words.

"Levi month 24" event's oneshots

All the Oneshots are written on the different prompts of the event "Levi Month 24"

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

Text

regency era!ghost x reader au (part 2)

oops my fingers slipped again. now all of a sudden i gotta see this little au through.

The early morning sun cast a golden hue across the park, the rays dancing on the surface of the nearby lake. The park was unusually empty this morning, a tranquil atmosphere sweeping over the rolling green hills.

Multiple days have passed since your rather unfortunate encounter with the Duke Simon Riley, the tension lingering like a storm cloud over the horizon. It left you seething, yet most of all, you still felt hurt over his attack on your character, even though he knows nothing about you. That’s what bothered you the most.

But, today, you were determined not to let his condescension overshadow your day, and so you sought solace in the park. As you wandered, you allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the fresh scent of dewy grass and listening to the cheerful chirping of birds. The empty park allowed you to sink further into relaxation, trying your best to let go of the lingering tension.

You had nearly succeeded in calming yourself down when, rounding a bend in the path, you came face to face with the very last person you wanted to.

Duke Simon Riley was sitting high atop of a giant horse, his imposing figure cutting a striking silhouette against the misty park. His expression was inscrutable as his gaze met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved, locked in a silent standoff.

You felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within in you at the mere sight of him, the memory of your initial meeting flooding back with startling clarity. Just as you were trying to forget the whole thing. But, beneath the anger, there was something else simmering; a nagging curiosity, perhaps, or a stubborn refusal to let him dictate your emotions.

The Duke’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts or feelings. He sat atop his horse with the ease of a man accustomed to command, his posture rigid and imposing.

The silence stretched on between you, tension crackling in the air like lightning about to strike. His gaze upon you was heavy and unyielding, and for a moment, you felt as though you were drowning in it.

But then, with a defiant tilt of your chin, you square your shoulders and met his gaze head-on. If he thought to intimidate you with his stoic demeanor, he had another thing coming.

“Your Grace,” you say coolly, your voice carrying across the distance that separates you. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Simon’s lips twitched ever so slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “I could say the same for you, my lady,” he replies, his voice low and measured. “What brings you to the park in these early hours?”

You wanted to laugh in his face right then and there. You barely were able to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes in front of him, choosing instead to maintain your steady composure.

“I find solace in nature,” you say simply, folding your hands together in front of you. “Unlike some, I rather enjoy the company of birds and trees to that of ‘idle chatter and trivial pursuits.’”

The jab was not lost on Simon, and you could see a flicker of annoyance cross his gestures. But to his credit, he remains outwardly composed, his expression still a mask of impassivity.

No longer wanting to be the object of his hard gaze, you pivot on your heel. The moment you do, and of course, this could only happen to you, your foot catches on a hidden root, causing you to stumble forward with a gasp of surprise.

With a strangled cry, you tumble to the ground less than graceful, the skirts of your dress now mangled by the dirt. Pain shot through your ankle as you hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs by the impact. For a moment, you lay there, dazed and disoriented, the world spinning around you.

To your surprise, a shadow fell over you, blocking out the sun. You turn, looking up to see the Duke reigning in his horse, his expression unreadable.

Without a word, he dismounts the steed in one fluid motion, landing beside you with a grace that belied his imposing stature. Strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly to your feet as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Are you hurt, my lady?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly with the smallest hint of concern.

You shook your head mutely, too stunned by his sudden appearance to form coherent words. His proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and the way his large arms feel around you sends heat straight to your face.

You meekly look up into his brown eyes, and any hint of anger and frustration now evaporates with every passing moment. You find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze, his eyes holding you captive. There was something magnetic about them, something that drew you in despite your best efforts to resist. His hand lingers on yours, his thick fingers pressing into the palm of your gloved hand.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon’s expression softens ever so slightly, the shift barely perceptible. You could’ve sworn his eyes flicker down to your partly open lips. All he does is nod in return.

Finally, you quickly step back, straightening your dress and trying to regain your composure. “Well, I- I must go home and change,” you say stiffly, mortified by your clumsiness and the fact that he had been the one to help you.

Simon does a once over of the skirts of your dress, now covered in dirt. “It appears so,” he states gruffly.

“Try to watch where you're going next time, my lady,” he states plainly.

You freeze in your tracks, his words like a slap in the face. How dare he speak to you in such a manner after just helping you up?

Swallowing your pride, you turn back to face him, your jaw clenched with barely contained frustration. “Thank you for your concern, Your Grace,” you reply through gritted teeth, your voice laced with icy politeness.

With that, you pivot on your heel and march away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had affected you. As you walk, your ankle throbbing with each step, you can't help but seethe with anger at the Duke's insufferable attitude.

But amidst the anger, there's a small flicker of something else. A stubborn determination, perhaps, or a newfound resolve to show the Duke that you were not someone to be trifled with. Whatever it was, you were determined to prove him wrong, no matter the cost.

part 1 < > part 3

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme #*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley

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literaila · 5 months

Note

will you ever think of writing reader's reaction to megumi going on a mission alone and getting hurt and after finishing the mission he stumbles home having lost a ton of blood and just looking very hurt ? her poor baby is hurt so what will she do ?

(waaaaay back in the past)

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you ask him, wanting to slap the stupid smirk off his face, the stupid glasses, and his stupid chiseled jaw.

his face is completely unfair. his attitude is infuriating.

satoru moves his jaw, wincing in pain. “if i don’t let him get a hit in, he doesn’t let me spar—“

“you let him hit you?”

your hand is holding his chin, keeping his stupid eyes on yours—even through the glasses, even if you can barely see them.

something about satoru gojo makes you want to run towards the edge of the nearest cliff, and then turn around so you can drag him along with you.

he is a terrible person.

“suguru would’ve noticed. i just forgot to block—he swung right,” he says it almost in awe, almost groaning, “he never swings right.”

“the more you talk, the stupider you sound.”

“let me go. it doesn’t even hurt.”

“i think he broke your nose.”

“what!?” he stands up, off of the table in the infirmary. you take a step back, scowling at him. your arms cross automatically. “is it crooked?”

“yes. it’s very ugly now.”

satoru scowls. and then he lights up, once again. you can basically feel it when he opens up all of his eyes. “it’s fine. shoko will fix it.”

you scoff at him, your glare an impenetrable thing.“shoko is busy. and this is your fault—don’t take up her energy just because you’re being an absolute idiot—“

“she likes practicing.”

“you know what i like?” you ask, taking a step closer, wishing that you could pop his convient little bubble and pull on his hair. “i like not having to drag you off of the court yard because you were stupid enough to let geto hit you!”

“he barely grazed me,” satoru crosses his arms. he’s looking down at you like he always does—self righteously, arrogantly. “i think you should calm down a little.”

you blink, watching him.

and then you tilt your head. “can you release your technique real quick?”

“huh? why?”

“so i can mess your face up even more—“ and then you push even closer to him, hands going up to his face and—just like you knew he would—satoru releases his technique.

maybe it’s because he’s caught off guard by your impromptu storming of him, or maybe it’s just because he’s finally gained some listening skills.

either way, it lands satoru sat back on the table, and you basically in his lap.

satoru coughs, holding his nose. “i think you broke it again,” he groans.

you look to him, wide eyes, and then down.

and, well, oops.

but you straighten your face out quickly. “good. i hope that hurts.”

“i didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“just because you’re a loser who lets himself get attacked—“

“we were training—“

“doesn’t mean i should have to put up with it.”

your arms are crossed. you’re sitting in satoru gojo’s lap, staring intently at him, and it’s…

(well it’s sort of like a breath of air. it’s sort of like you’ve wanted to be here for the past year. sort of like you actually like him. which you don’t, just to be clear.)

then satoru smiles, and he’s almost hypnotizing you. “are you worried about me?”

“no. i’m worried about my own sanity. i already have to deal with everyone else getting hurt, i thought,” you take a breath, shaking your head. “i thought i was cleared with you. ‘cause of your… thingy.”

“my thingy?”

you roll your eyes. “you can apologize anytime, you know.”

“i’m very sorry that you have to look at me when im this disheveled.”

“you look the same as always.”

satoru pouts. “why would you say that?”

you scoff, flicking his head. “stop being an idiot—i know it’ll be difficult for you, but at least try.”

“are you flirting with me?”

“you wish.”

then satoru coughs again, still grinning at you, his face beginning to turn all sorts of purples.

there’s a moment where you stare at him, awaiting his next move.

but satoru only clears his throat. “are you, uh, going to get off of me?”

your eyes widen and you scramble to get off of him, basically elbowing satoru in the stomach while you do it, and you move five steps away from the table.

just in case.

satoru grins at you again. “well, i should probably call shoko so she—“

you cross your arms again. “i already did.”

“you did?”

“yeah. when you were washing the blood off of your face.”

satoru practically sparkles at you. “aren’t you sweet?”

“she’ll be here soon,” you say, looking away from him. “and you owe me.”

“of course,” satoru hums, “whatever you want.”

#IF ANYONE ELSE SAYS ANYTHING ABOUT ME READINF THIS WRONG.#it’s over.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x y/n #satoru x you

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normspellsman · 1 year

Text

A Kiss, Perhaps

pairing: spider socorro x fem!human!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.4k+ (😳)

warning(s): just spider + reader being cute idiots in love, spider actually being a lovesick puppy that happily follows you wherever you go, subtle brains x brawn dynamic, the tiniest hint of suggestive content (?), first kiss trope, slightest mention of making out, & getting caught (oop-)

taglist: @aonungsmate @universal-s1ut @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @arminsgfloll @amortencjja @dearstell @liyahsocorro @chshshhshshshshshshs @goodiesinthecloset21 @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

word bank: ikran — winged creatures used for flying + hunting

note: set before the events of atwow! i keep overdoing myself with these 4k+ fics 😭 but anything for you guys <3 there’s nearly not enough spider fics on this app. give my boy some love T-T! also, tumblr’s being weird & not letting me tag some people on the posts so i’ll try to tag those with a line through their user in the comments.

You loved spending time outside in the forests of Pandora, soaking in everything you saw. You spent more time out of the lab than in it most days.

Spider even joined you at times, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You probably knew the forest better than the boy, even with his frequent associations with the Sully children. You practically never left the beautiful scenery and spent too many hours exploring every little thing you could. So, he found it best to follow your lead whenever he tagged along on your journeys.

Norm liked to say that you were a lot like Grace Augustine in some ways. Always wanting to analyze and study every single plant you came into contact with. Always too caught up in admiring the beauty and wonder that Pandora provided. Of course you never met the woman but you saw plenty of her video recordings with Kiri and on your alone time. You could say that the two of you had similarities but none that were too significant.

You knew almost every inch of forestry on the moon-planet. Almost.

There was this one place that Spider had stumbled upon many years ago after running around with Lo’ak. It was his little hideout spot whenever he needed time to himself or wanted a break from things. He didn’t think about sharing it with anyone else until you mentioned how bored you were one night, complaining about how you practically seen every inch of the forest and that there was nothing else to see. You loved everything you saw on Pandora but missed the first time admiration one held whenever they saw something they had never seen before.

Spider wasn’t exactly sure if you had already scoped out his little getaway spot but nonetheless, he still wanted to share it with you.

“I don’t think you’ve been to this place though,” Spider speaks up one day, pulling your attention away from whatever you were studying underneath the microscope.

The teen also often offered his company to you whenever you were in the lab doing whatever scientists did. He liked spending time with you, even if you were too caught up in doing sciencey stuff that he had absolutely no clue about.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

A shit eating grin stretched itself onto Spider’s lips. Good, he thought, she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“You said that you’ve seen every inch of the forest,” he replied, twirling a pipette in between his calloused fingers, “but, I’m sure you haven’t seen my hideout.”.

Curiosity sparkled in your eyes, back straightening in attention.

“What does it look like?” You asked, genuinely excited about the secret place Spider had kept from you for whoever knows how long.

Spider had you right where he wanted you. Like a prey in his web. There was no way that he was going to give you any details of what it looked like. Where’s the fun in that? He wanted to see the pure, genuine look of amazement on your face when you finally saw the place he was talking about.

“Nuh uh,” Spider tsked, poking your cheek with the pipette, “I am not falling for that. You’ll just have to wait and see tomorrow,” he finished, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not pleased with Spider's answer. You at least wanted to know where the spot was or what some of its features looked like, it would help that anxious-excitement feeling that always crawled its way into your stomach whenever you discovered something new.

“Wherever you’re taking me better not be somewhere where I have to climb,” you retorted, slightly pushing back his head with your hand, him snorting in response.

“It’s not that bad. Besides,” he replies, “I can always carry you up there.”.

Spider was ridiculously strong for a human boy his age. The first time you realized it, your stomach twisted in knots. The two of you were play fighting in your early teens when the male managed to pin you down with just one arm, the other slithering in between your bodies as he tickled your stomach. It was in that brief moment that you realized how different and quickly Spider was changing, thanks to puberty.

Just the thought of Spider carrying you up to wherever he had in mind without even breaking a sweat made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You began to wonder how his toned arms would feel around your body or how his tense back would feel against your front as it flexed due to his climbing. (Your mouth began to water a little at the thought. Oh how you wished he would just pull you into his embrace and hold you so you could feel the flexing of his muscles as he did so.)

You quickly scoffed the thought away, shaking your head at the dirty blondes' response. He very obviously took pride in his strength and the fact that he could most definitely carry you anywhere without much difficulty.

“Sure you could, Spider,” you added, your eyes squinting a little at the boy in front of you, unplugging and turning off the microscope you were using.

Spider smirked at your response, tossing the pipette to the side as he saw that you were getting ready to clean up, signaling that you were done for the day and we’re going to head off to bed.

“Night, beautiful,” Spider whispered, ruffling your hair a bit before he turned and left the lab you were occupying.

“G’night,” you replied, pink dusting your cheeks in reaction to the nickname he gave you early on into your friendship.

He always called you that. Max had explained to him what the word meant when he overheard Jake call Neytiri that when he was only a child, wondering what it meant. Max told him that he should only ever mean it whenever he called someone it. So he did. You were the only one he called beautiful and probably would be the only one he ever called that and truly meant it.

“Tomorrow, three hours before eclipse,” Spider quickly added, heading peaking through the door of the lab, a smile on his face as he voiced the time he planned on taking you out.

You only hummed out in acknowledgment, shooing him away as you focused on your task of cleaning up your area of the lab.

You really couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

———

“Hurry up, you’re going to make us late,” Spider whined out, sprawled out on your freshly made bed, a ball of yarn in his hands as he tossed it up and down towards the ceiling.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, annoyed at his words. It wasn’t like there was someone else waiting for you at the spot he wanted to take you to.

“We are fine, Spider,” you scoffed out, finishing tying up your shoelaces together besides the teens head as your body was in a seated position. Your hand briefly reached out towards Spider’s knotted locs, messing with them a little before he turned his head to teasingly nip at you, teeth not making contact with your skin. You squealed in response, hurriedly pulling back your hand in order to avoid the boy's sharp teeth.

Spider barked out a laugh at your response, tossing the ball of yarn to the side, softly landing on the floor with a dull thud. Another thing he loved, messing with you. He took great joy in doing it and seeing your reaction.

“Yeah well, the faster you finish getting ready, the faster we’ll be at my spot,” he retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position, a bored look on his face as he looked at you.

Spider had only been in your room for around fifteen minutes, barging in when you just finished braiding your hair yelling about how long you were taking and how by the time you were done, it’d be sunrise already. He was all ready to go and had been waiting for you for almost thirty minutes before coming into your room unannounced. He usually did, which caused you to throw whatever was closest to you at him, demanding him to get out. You got used to it over the years but still, you needed privacy and sometimes, you felt like you rarely had that around Spider due to his spontaneous barging into your room. You gained the ability to change out of and into your clothes incredibly fast, almost always narrowly missing flashing Spider.

“Okay, okay, I’m all ready,” you responded, hands going up in surrender as you stood up from your spot on the bed, dusting off the back of your thighs and the front of your shorts.

Spider groaned out in relief, hopping off the bed and grabbing your packed bag that was placed by the doorframe, throwing it over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and rushing you out in excitement.

“You’re gonna love it, I swear!”.

———

The both of you had arrived and climbed up to the place Spider had wanted to take you to in an hour and a half. The sun was just at eclipse when you arrived. Spider didn’t hesitate to crouch down a little so you could jump onto his back, legs and arms tightly around his neck and waist before he began the ascent up.

“We’re here,” Spider whispered, slightly out of breath from the exercise. He tapped your thigh twice, signaling that it was safe for you to let go.

The first thing you saw were vines. Lots of them. It covered almost every inch of solid rock, clinging across the surface until your eyes landed on a small opening, the vines dangling over it as the twine and its leaves cloaked the opening. No wonder you never knew of this place. Regardless of it being too high up for you alone to climb, it was very well hidden by the green vines.

It seemed like it was a cave, from what you could see. Peeking past some of the small openings in between the vines, you couldn’t see much light through the gaps. It seemed to be pretty dark and the only light that was getting through was the sunlight that managed to squeeze between the vines.

“You excited?” Spider asked, anxiety settling itself in his stomach. He wanted you to like his secret spot. It was special to him. He didn’t even tell Lo’ak about it and he tells the Na’vi boy practically everything.

“Very,” you replied back, eyes still glued on the intricate weaving of the vines. You tried to imagine what was behind the plant's structure, excitement setting in.

You liked finding new things but this felt different. More personal. Spider told his loved ones almost everything, so you were genuinely surprised when he brought up the fact that he had a secret hideout. And knowing that you were probably the only other person to see and know about this place made it even more special and personal.

“C’mon,” Spider whispered, taking your hand in his as he gently pulled you inside, pushing the vines to the side to make room for the both of you to get through.

It was dark at first, the numerous vines making a dull thud sound as they fell back into place once Spider let them go. But then, small blue dots of light appeared, scattered across the walls and ceiling of the cave, lighting up the space in its dim light. The longer you two walked, the more brighter it seemed to get. The biolomenscient dots got dimmer and dimmer the further you and Spider went, the warm glow of the sunset replacing it.

Another opening made its way into your line of sight, giving you the perfect view of the eclipse and more.

“Holy shit,” you whispered out, hand still grasping Spiders.

The sight before you was absolutely breathtaking. Ikran flew across the setting sun, shrieking in delight as they dipped and dived. The floating mountains were scattered across the sky, thick and large vines connecting them to each other so they didn't drift too far from another. The vibrant colors the setting sun emitted settled across the horizon and danced across the tops of the trees beneath the cliff you and Spider were currently standing on.

Spider smiled at your response, warmth spreading across his body as he came to the conclusion that you were enjoying the sight before you. He felt nervous before, not wanting you to not like where he was taking you. But now, he felt so happy. Happy that you were awestruck and couldn’t tear your eyes off of everything in front of you.

“Like it?” He asked, hand squeezing yours to catch your attention.

“Like it?” You replied, eyes still darting across the beautiful scenery in front of you, “I love it! How come you didn’t take me here earlier?” You pouted at the end.

The boy only chuckled in response. To be honest, he considered this place to be his. Like a little secret. He wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone. But the more he thought about it and visited the small cave slash cliff hideout, the more he wondered what it’d be like to share this place with you. He was over the moon when you agreed to tag along last night. This was no longer going to be just his spot but the both of yours.

Spider slightly tugged on your hand, guiding you to follow his actions in sitting down, legs dangling over the cliffs edge.

“It’s so beautiful,” you commented, settling yourself next to Spider, hands still intertwined.

The human boy hummed in response, eyes never leaving the side of your face. The setting suns colorful rays reflected off the glass of your mask, highlighting your bright eyes as you continued to gawk at the gorgeous sight in front of you.

To Spider, your beauty could never compare to what was in front of him. He had seen this kind of sunset millions of times before but he always found himself thinking of you whenever he gazed at the eclipse and the colorful horizon. You were truly one of a kind. He always felt special whenever you graced him with your presence. His eyes never left your face whenever the two of you hung out, oftentimes running into things on accident which made me even more flustered once your laugh reached his ears. If he were in a Na’vi body, his tail would be swaying furiously back and forth like a dog excited to see their owner whenever his eyes settled on your figure. You always had a special place in his heart. Which makes this moment even more special.

“Hmm, just like you, beautiful,” he whispered back, nudging your shoulder with his.

A wide toothed smile made its way across your lips, a giggle escaping them as you shook your head at the boy. “Cheesy,” you replied, eyes finally tearing away from the sunset and settling on Spider.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized how close the two of you were. Your shoulders were touching and your clasped hands were in Spider's lap, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. If it weren’t for the masks you had to wear, you most likely would be able to feel each other's breath. Just the thought gave you slight goosebumps.

“Sappy,” Spider agreed, laughing in response to your previous statement. He tended to be overly romantic whenever around you. Albeit he never outwardly voiced his thoughts, he still thought them. You only got a glimpse or two of that side of him, it only being during whenever the two of you were joking around or he was trying to bring your spirits up on a particularly hard day. It never failed to make you feel better or laugh in response.

Your eyes were stuck on Spider's face, glancing from his eyes, to his nose down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. He was probably the prettiest human boy you’d ever seen, and the only one you’d seen.

“Want to know how I stumbled across this place?” He asked, cheeks reddening at your intense stare.

“Please,” you responded, shifting a bit to face more towards the boy, hands still tightly interlocked.

Spider brightly smiled before starting, glad to be finally sharing this, his place with you.

———

You had stayed out way past curfew, too caught up in the beauty of Pandora to realize just how late you and Spider stayed out.

He had you put yourself on his back again on the way down, your hands returning to grip his shoulders as your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. You found yourself thinking about his muscles and his strength again, making yourself blush at every thought. The fact that you were so tightly pressed up against him and could feel his back muscles twitch and flex as he climbed down didn’t help, at all.

But he too was blushing. There have only been a handful of times where the both of you were in a position like this, so close together. Most of them were when you were children and still needed the comfort of someone else to sleep, Norm often finding the two of you entangled together as you softly snored away in your deep slumber. The other time being when you had a tickle fight and he pinned both of your hands above your head and tortured you with his swift fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach. Spider almost kissed you that day, if it weren’t for Max’s interruption, telling Spider that Lo’ak was there for him. And the other time being now. It had been so long since he had you this close. Of course you two hugged and had sleepovers whenever you were bored, but even then, you never had your body that close to his and vice versa. Spider could feel the beat of your rapid heart against his back, smirking at how fast it was pumping.

It was nice to have you this close to his body. Especially in this circumstance. He felt like he was protecting you, in a way at least. Spider knew that you didn’t have the type of training he did regarding exploring the expanse of Pandora’s forests. You mostly explored on your own and kept to the forest floor whereas Spider leapt from tree to tree with Lo’ak and climbed whatever he could. And regarding this fact, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself up to climb all the way to where he wanted to take you as well as back down. So this was the least he could do. Have you cling to his back as he descended back down to the mossy ground.

The minute your feet touched the floor, you took off sprinting, shouting at Spider to race you back to the lab. Poor boy barely had any time to process it, standing there in shock for a few seconds before quickly following after you, catching up to your figure within minutes.

The boy beat you to the lab even with your head start.

“No fair!” You whined out, huffing and puffing from your sprinting. Damn, you thought to yourself, and to think Spider does this everyday.

“Hmm, sucks to suck I guess,” Spider teased, patting your head as you stood there with your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. Your mask began to fog up from your ragged breathing.

You playfully slapped Spider’s hand away as you both walked up the stairs to the lab, the boy holding the door open for you as you walked through.

Once the door shut, a hissing sound reached your ears, signaling that the filter was forcing out the Pandora air and replacing it with the air you and the other humans needed to breathe. When the small light above the second door turned green, you quickly discarded your mask and pushed through the secondary door.

“That was so much fun!” You exclaimed, wide smile on your lips as you turned back towards Spider, watching him place both of your masks back onto the small rack they usually reside on.

Warmth spread throughout Spider’s chest at your exclamation, proud that he was able to make you this happy from simply sharing his hideout with you. “I’m glad you had fun,” he replied, a gummy smile spreading onto his lips.

“Thank you so much for taking me! I really enjoyed tonight,” you continued, same smile still plastered on your face.

You felt grateful that Spider wanted to share a place he had found and kept to himself for a while with you. It made you feel special. Really special. You wanted to do something for him that showed your gratefulness. But your mind kept drawing blanks the more you thought about it. It had to be a grand gesture that showed him just how much you appreciated tonight as well as him in general.

Silence settled itself between the two of you, it resting comfortably in the air. Seconds had passed from the last time you spoke, eyes darting around Spider’s painted striped skin, the paint fading from the days excursions. As your eyes settled back onto his face, you realized that he was staring at your lips.

A lightbulb went off in your head. Yes, a kiss would work.

“I am very grateful that you decided to share your hideout with me. I feel honored,” you began, taking a step closer to the boy in front of you, “Is there anything I could do to show my appreciation?”.

Spider gulped at your question, one thing coming to mind. But, the boy only shook his head and shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m just happy to have spent tonight with you,” he replied.

Sappy motherfucker, you laughed to yourself, feeling yourself melt at how sweet Spider was being. You knew that he’d never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. Another thing that you loved about him. (Right after his face and muscles, of course.)

You hummed in response, inching closer as you did so. You could practically hear how fast Spider’s heart was beating against his chest, making you slightly smile at how you might be the cause of it.

“I think I have something in mind,” you trailed, straining your neck a bit to look up at the boy as you finally stood chest to chest. A few strands of Spider’s locs fell in front of his face and dangled besides yours, hand going out to tuck it behind one of his ears. The boys knees almost gave out at the movement, stomach twisting in knots and skin beginning to tingle from your gentle graze.

“And w-what could that b-be?” He stuttered, dark blush covering his cheeks. He felt his heart beat even faster as the seconds ticked by, if that was possible.

You smiled up at Spider, right hand coming to gently take his left one. “A kiss, perhaps?” You asked, not expecting him to agree right away.

“You…you w-want to…to k-kiss me?” He shakingly asked, the hand in yours intertwining his fingers between yours. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That you suggested that you both kiss. He’s dreamt of kissing you ever since he saw the couple down his hall kiss when he was younger, Max yet again had to explain the action to him. Ever since he knew that he liked you. Since he knew that you’d be the only one for him as long as he breathed.

You nodded at his question, eyes falling from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. You also dreamt of kissing the boy. You wanted to ever since you saw an Earth movie from the twenty-first century where the two protagonists were lovers. You wanted to experience everything that the two lovers in the movies experienced with Spider. It was something you often caught yourself daydreaming about when you had nothing else better to do.

At your confirmation, Spider gently and delicately cupped your face in his warm and bigger hands, bringing you closer to his lips. There was a sliver of space between your lips and his, the teen boy waiting for something. Spider’s eyes searched yours for hesitancy and when he saw none and received another nod of your head, he pressed his plump lips against yours.

Your left hand went up to his waist to steady yourself, knees nearly giving out on the spot as your brain realized that this was actually happening.

Warmth was the only thing you felt from the kiss as well as adoration and care. You thought the whole fireworks thing was a bit silly whenever a character in a movie talked about it. But this, this was so much better than fireworks. You could feel how much Spider loved and cared for you through a single kiss. Could feel how nervous you made him through his shaky hands and rapid heartbeat. It was much better than fireworks. You felt loved and cared for through your shared kiss. You only hoped that Spider could feel the same things you did from the kiss as well.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, kissing and pecking each others lips. You only broke away from the kiss two times to inhale more oxygen before you passed out. Spider meanwhile kissed all over your face as you did so, placing gentle kisses against your cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin before slotting his lips against yours again once you filled your lungs with sweet oxygen.

A loud cough erupted from behind you, halting the both of you in your kiss. Fear and anxiety spikes through your system, eyes widening as you slowly turned around to see who caught you and Spider kissing face.

“I don’t want to know,” Max started, arms crossed against his chest as a sleepy expression painted his face, “Just, get to bed. Separately. And if anyone asks, I saw nothing, okay?”.

You swear you never ran to your room so fast in your life, giggling out into the quiet corridors of the lab with Spider trailing behind you. Yeah, sorry Max, but there was no way that either of you were going to bed in your respective rooms tonight. There was too much to talk about and catch up on.

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