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chloe-petrichors · 3 months ago

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seething, blooming // jace x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you don’t want to be queen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes, your grace?”

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

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

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

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

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

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist; @eldrith

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

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burstinn · 6 months ago

Text

THE EVERY GAY MANS DREAM READER

TALL, BUFF, BIG BOOBS AND ASS everything

Can't find no good pic for this so..

This post includes:Ghost, Graves, Price, Soap, Nikto, Riptide, Krueger, Konig, Alejandro, Rudy, Gaz, Horangi, Makarov, Velikan, Keegan, Roach. In that order

Yes I wrote all those, yes because I haven't written in a while

Notes:

- NSFW and SFW (Bottom male and top male reader mentioned)

-since y'all like the big buff n' tall male reader, made him bigger and taller basically mixed everything I wrote about male reader, tall, big buff, big cake, big boobs it's like a package in one this will probably be the last of this type of reader since running out ideas. It was hard making original headcanons 💔💔.

-Omg I haven't written in a while so like this might get idk boring?

- Yes again headcanons,you're favs

- strictly MALE READER not Gn rn

- readers age is ambiguous but if you can't think and want an age for reader my thinking is somewhere near late 30s or early 40s

- Some of the HCS have where y'all ain't in a relationship some HCS have y'all r in a relationship

- these headcanons definitely are mischaracterized but let me pretend for a bit 💔💔

- Tiktok got to me now I have brainrot language, so Trigger warning wooohh braiinroot

- can't believe this post was long enough to make my phone lag just a lil bit

- When he first saw you of course he was 😦😧😮

GHOST

- Like okay overkill, like you're taller, buffer and probably have a huger cock??? (Something he can investigate.. For purposes..)

Like you also got smoobs?? A plumpy ass??

Like save some for the rest Jesus 😒😒

- Nonstop staring secretly ofc, You be like in a room then you feel someone staring just to see Ghost somewhere in the corner of the room. You can't tell if he's staring or not but being that you are in an empty room.. Yknow it's kind of obv--

- BUT if you are not in an empty room you will not shake off the staring I mean holy shit look at you like 😨😨🍑✋

- You can literally hear him breathing heavily under his mask like how can he control himself when HE a person who is supposed to be looked up to literally and figuratively now has to look up at YOU?? do you know what does to a person??

-That's right it makes them freaky..

-Probably jerks off to you too

- I mean who doesn't want to get railed by a 7 ft tall man? Especially ESPECIALLY when you've been the supposed dominant person your whole life??

- OMG immediately Cumming to the thought

- I mean he won't mind topping you it also drives his own ego seeing a dominant man get absolutely wrecked, imagine the begging and whining

- plus he won't mind being the person who feels protected not always doing the protecting like 💔💔 he wants to feel protected too 😞

GRAVES

- Immediate gay awakening

- thinks making his western accent more prominent would make you think he sounds more hot

- Will dress up as a cowboy and will will ask (beg) you to do it as well

- because you know.. Hat thing.. Riding.. Graves grabs your hat puts it on his head or Graves grabs his hat puts it on your head, either way one of you is riding something and it ain't a horse

- because of the amazing quote on who ever came up w/ that is "save a horse ride a cowboy"

- Graves is obviously the type of guy to look at your ass and whistle maybe slap it, nah definitely slap it

PRICE

- He thinks of you like a bear

- like You're soo- big and cuddly? Definitely intimidating

- I mean you're near the same age bracket so it's not bad to have some.. Thoughts right?

- You're definitely hairy underneath or not but pls be he wants pubes to tickle his nose

- if you don't have a beard for reader then he would KILL to see have a beard like aughh perfect bear look, if you have a beard immediately cumming(/j) or (not /j)

- Like imagine you and price who are basically like bears like parent bears and and you the other 141 boys are like your children 🥺🥺

SOAP

- DEFINITELY became more gayer

- errrmmm.. Like his eyes are BASICALLY near like chest height

- bumping into you and his face touches your chest like omgg.. Such an accident 💔💔

- Obviously flirting about going to pound town

- like imagine You and Him? In a relationship? Having the most feral sex??? Like it's obv jokes (it's not)

- He would also do anything to see a big man whimper like a little bicth slut, who wouldn't want to see a demon of a man roll his eyes back and whine like a wheoeororoe❤, I mean if he tops I'd imagine him saying "cmon you're a big boy ain't cha'? You can handle a few more inches". While you are also getting the malevolent backshots.

- He would also want a big strong arm to man handle him as he takes the most vigorous backshots known to man

- Have you ever thought or seen a very tall wall like 10 or 11 ft high and you being you, Soap asks (demands) for you to carry him on your shoulder because he wants to see what's over the wall

NIKTO

- intimidating guy and intimidating guy typa relationship but your not in a relationship.. Yet.

- watch him watch you

- shows off his knife collection to you, yes I think he has a knife collection and he will show it to people that he wants to impress (he wants to get freaky with you)

- I like to think if he strips off the gear he gives the most desperate kind of touchy hug, to those he feels close with of course which is you

- lucky you

RIPTIDE

- Offers to teach you how to swim yknow just in case

- there is none, he wants to see you wet

- tells you to wear a white shirt and shorts because its Essential for training, it's a lie he wants to see the water wet your clothes making it stick to your body.. Yknow the white shirt showing whats underneath and the shorts outlining what package you've been hiding even though you weren't really hiding it

- He gets too distracted, the others are too, he forgets how to teach you

KRUEGER

- indefinite eye contact while your doing it

- likes staring into them, if you get shy and look away he will grab your jaw and make you have eye contact with him

- angry fierce ahh eyes

- he's an emotional grumpy guy, rip off his mask and aggressively kiss his face

- He wants the after sex laying on the chest while the other is rubbing their head, goes both ways.

- trace his tattoos and compliment them the bedroom will be locked the whole day, trust 🙏

KÖNIG

- The same as Ghosts

- Imagine being the one to get carried instead of the one carrying

- König would definitely come up to you and ask to be carried while you kiss his face multiple times❤❤

- Imagine how hard he gets because you have to look down at him to talk like HNGRHRRGGGRGRRR

- Definitely likes giving you homemade arts and crafts gear because you know.. The headcanon where König makes his own gear and what if he does it for other people too as gifts💔

- likes seeing you wear his mask it makes him imagine what people see when they see König definitely a change of perspective. He can see how intimidating you are and he gets hard.

ALEJANDRO

- will definitely compliment you in Spanish when talking about you with other people even when you're in front or behind him.

- I mean you don't understand Spanish right?

- if you don't, you're oblivious and only just watch curiously on what he's talking about. Buuut but but if you do understand you don't tell him you undeestrand this thing literally feeds your ego like Alejandro thinks of you this way? 🥺🥺

- Thigh riding type of guy idc who thigh riding

RUDY

- everytime I look at him he looks like a soft vanilla type

- I know he's a strong guy but look at him

- He wants soft sex 😞😞

- He also likes being complimented if you whisper a praise to him when he's doing ANYTHING. Imagine the babies you'd both have together.

- He likes toddlers and babies and if you do too a plus for him,makes him fall even more 💯💯

GAZ

- One time he Got injured and was sitting on the floor and then He saw you running towards him he simultaneously screamed in fear and how hard he got

- Likes to style your clothes, If he was off the military right now he really really likes fashion and if he sees you.. You can't fashion and he sees you wearing.. That, He's appalled, horrified, mortified I'm over exaggerating. But he is now in charge of your fashion now, But if you do know how to style you both will share tips with eachother. You can share different tips too ❤❤

- drags you in his barracks and strips you of your clothes except shorts.. And he's telling you this because he wants to "style" you.

- We both know damn well that's an excuse to get the boombayah freaky on.. He's just to shy to tell you upfront or he thinks it's fun to tease you like that before you get freaky

HORANGI

- gets freaky..

- Like he understands the women who get all giggly and nervous when they see a big man who can destroy them (ignore König 💔)

- is definitely not above thigh crushing, boob crushing, face sitting he'd do all at as long as it's you

- Like one time he pretended he broke his leg and won't let anyone else carry him until you came, acting all princessy and shit as you carry him bridal style to the medics

- He felt like a prince omg

- will definitely get on you and treat your real life size anime men boobs as a squishy toy

- How long is it and will he be able to take it??? Who knows he will find out!! Basically searched how long can someone's cock be if they are built like a god and is 7ft tall in Google

- someone gotta tell me Horangi's height and basic Google searching ain't doing it for me I'm too lazy to search for one line of a spicy headcanon line mb

MAKAROV

- You're basically ascary dog he owns

- You're tall and intimidating

- You can get information out of people quickly

- And he's not above telling you to torture anyone with a strength and body like yours

- most of the time you get the info done and folded

- Makarov uses you for intimidation and strength buuttt if you ever THINK of betraying him he already has a plan to get rid of someone like you

- Can and will turn you into one of those supersoldiers

- Will make you murder people right in front of him for entertainment and will rewward you!

- you know what reward it will be, Because when he asked what reward you wanted you got a bit to freaky you thought you be dead rn but nah he agreed actually he seems to enjoy it more than you do..

VELIKAN

- He's the dog in this one have you heard his voice?? Rough as hell imagine hearing him grunt

- Sounds cocky as hieeeellll too

- Would definitely like showing off to you since he wants to look cool in front of you

- Like you seen velikans skins?? Definitely wears the best ones to show you he can not only be a trained assassin But can also dress cool as hell

- If you compliment him it like makes his day, will not stop thinking about it

- Like a cool person complimenting a cool person like him? Ego boost (It's him feeling gay)

- This guys definitely a smoker (headcanon!!) Because voice sounds like he smoked 100 packs in 1 day and doesn't drink an ounce of water /jk I love him he's so hot.

- So if you want a smoke he purposely hides the lighter saying.. 'Oh no I asked someone elses lighter.. I don't have mine right now' or like 'my lighter ran out of fuel ohh

- So you have to put the cigarette in your mouth as you touch it with his cigarette to light ur own that type of trope 💫💫

- If you're not a smoker he will try his best to not smoke in front of you will use fresh mints to hide his breath of smoke

- after sex he will want a smoke, outside he goes or you both share the one cigarette

KEEGAN

- is it wrong to want to be choked by a big buff meaty arm?

- yknow the tiktok thing where girls put a ribbon on their boyfriends arm and the girls just put their face in the middle as their faces get squished??

- Yeah he wants that but gay

- will try to compare dick sizes even though yours is OBVIOUSLY the superior one!!

- Heads or tails on who's bottoming tonight

- Would like to be wrapped around your arms if you are hugging or sleeping keeps him warm

- Especially when it's snowing will force you to hug with him. ESPECIALLY when your in a mission and your in the tents he will definitely force you to hug it out with him

ROACH

- remember the other tall HC where the reader wasn't taller than König

- yes roach does the same thing here.. He's crawling on you like a tree

- If he wants a kiss instead of asking he crawls up to you and kisses you

- definitely likes to sit on your shoulders as you walk around, he feels tall like that

- this is like a distance relationship 💔💔

- Likes it when you bend over to talk to him also when you bend over when youre doing sum since it's slappable opportunity

- because bent over = double D cake will be slapped

- How will it fit? By the power of friendship of course!!

- probably more of say gex desperation but you get it

- Obviously switch switch

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thatfandomslut · 10 months ago

Text

I'll Always Protect You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: Reader pushing Regina out of the way of the bus, established relationship between Regina/Reader, injuries, near death experience.

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 22 and piece of chocolate 3. Or: "You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die." w/ injury

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

Regina stared in shock at where (Y/n) had once been standing as she pushed Regina. A bus was now in her place and Regina stared, shaking as she turned to see (Y/n) lying on the ground unconscious. She was thankful for the bus blocking her from the other students as she crumbled to the floor momentarily. Faculty had already rushed over to the girl sprawled on the ground, and Principal Duvall jumped into action, calling an ambulance on his phone as he kneeled by Regina, placing a hand on her shoulder. Once he confirmed they were on the way, he turned to the blonde.

"Are you okay? Are you injured, too?" He questioned in concern. Regina never realized until then that he was an incredibly caring person. Regina's eyes were still wide as she swallowed thickly. When she processed that he was still waiting for a response, he nodded slowly. "Good, come on, let's move away from this area. The ambulance might need to park here. Are you okay to walk? I know that you're probably in shock." When Regina shook her head, he gently helped her up and then moved her across the street where everyone else was. They were all staring at her for a moment, their gazes shifting to the worried faculty members huddling around (Y/n).

Regina didn't know what to do. Her girlfriend just pushed her out of the way of a bus and potentially saved her life. She risked her life for Regina's. Regina sat on the sidewalk, now letting Cady approach her. The strawberry blonde rested her hand on Regina's shoulder carefully and through all of the processing of what just happened, she leaned into Cady's touch. Cady gently squeezed her shoulder as an ambulance came. Janis was still on the other side of the bus, looking over in shock. There was so much going on that no one knew what to do or say. Still, they knew somehow this was going to be all over the school tomorrow.

Regina held back tears, wanting to know if (Y/n) would be okay. She wished that she wasn't frozen in her place. She felt guilty because it was from her not paying attention to her surroundings that (Y/n) even made the action. Everything that she had happened earlier seemed miniscule. Cady and Janis ruining her life, the Burn Book, the group therapy held by Ms. Norbury. Everything seemed so unimportant. The only thing on Regina's mind was the well-being of her girlfriend. She watched the paramedics haul her onto a stretcher and drive away urgently, and her face fell into her hands.

A couple of days later, Regina found it in her to visit (Y/n) at the hospital. Sucking in a breath, she knocked on a door. "Come in," (Y/n) croaked out, causing Regina to wince just at the sound of her voice. Walking into the room, she acknowledged all of the flowers around (Y/n). "Hey, Regina," the girl had a corrective neck collar on and looked tired. It was obvious that she was a bit loopy on medicine. Regina put a vase of roses down and sat by (Y/n)'s bedside. She didn't know how exactly to approach her. She had been waiting it out for the last two days since she couldn't visit yet anyway.

(Y/n) was still hooked into an IV, Regina noticed. Regina started to think about all of the things she had been wanting to say, but she had to sit with her thoughts for a long moment. She was grateful that (Y/n) was understanding as she sat next to her bedside. She knew (Y/n) almost lost her life for her, so what was she supposed to say to someone who would throw themselves in front of a bus for her? She wanted to yell at (Y/n) and call her stupid but remind her that she loved her. Instead, she settled with other words.

"You saved my life," Regina said, taking (Y/n)'s hand softly. She felt comforted by how warm it was. She was scared that if it was cold, the fantasy would crumble and (Y/n) would be gone. She swallowed down an unwanted sob as she tried to blink away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Even if (Y/n) was the only person she ever got vulnerable around in the past, she knew she had to be strong for her. "Despite everything that happened at school, you saved me. Why did you push me out of the way?"

(Y/n) smiled softly, using all of her strength to provide a gentle squeeze to Regina's hand. "Because, Regina, I love you. Even if I did die after the bus, I would fade away, but you're this ever-lasting, shining star. You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. I'll always protect you. You deserve the entire world. And, if I had to do it again to save you again, I would." She said softly. Regina smiled back at her girlfriend before leaning in to kiss her gently, careful with her collar. (Y/n) kissed back happily, feeling like this moment made everything even more worth it.

Regina pulled away and her eyes searched (Y/n)'s for a long moment. "I love you, too. You're a star in my sky, too. I want you to know how important you are to me. I can't lose you, either." Regina said earnestly, the tears she attempted to hide finally spilling over her cheeks as she sniffled. She wasn't always the best with her words or her feelings. She often came out as crass or mean, but she couldn't lose (Y/n) just as much as the girl claimed she couldn't lose Regina. Regina had been scared out of her mind when the bus crashed into her, trying not to imagine what might happen if she didn't get any of those cute good-morning messages or late-night calls. (Y/n) was her star, too.

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader

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3vergr3en · 1 year ago

Text

My brain burns with the urge to express my head canon’s abt Actor!Jack Champion in a relationship w/ Actor!Reader 🤧💕

__________________

He’s obsessed with your laugh.

He will do everything in his will power to make you laugh in front of the camera even if it meant him enduring a scolding from the director or his manager for purposely messing you up.

He loves, like, loves, seeing you happy. So whenever you’re either laughing with him, or at him (bc of his lame dad jokes), it doesn’t matter as long as he hears those pretty sounds of laughter that he adores.

Whenever you guys are on the set of Scream VI, you guys act like a couple of kids when you guys are together.

The behind the scenes mainly consisted of you two constantly bickering immaturely, playing footsies when sitting in your assigned chairs, or randomly playing tag out of no where.

But there were times where there was peace from the mischievous duo. Only because you two were cuddling together, sound asleep in either of your trailers.

After shooting your guy’s scenes, you guys would most of the time hang out in your trailer.

He would always be laying on your lap with you sitting up.

And he LOVES when you play with his hair.

Either with you twirling your finger through each individual curl or running your hands through his brown locks, he just loves the sensation of you touching with his hair.

On the red carpet, he’s as eager to answer questions about you as he is to talk about his acting career or the character he portrays in the film that he’s in.

He never fails to mention on how incredible of a girlfriend and actress you are.

He fr could go on for hours talking about you.

And you, on the other hand, love watching those interviews of him when they’re posted shortly after the event.

As well as teasing him when you guys are together at home.

“The most gorgeous person besides my mother? It’s no other than my kind girlfriend, Y/n.” You’d quote him.

“Shut up!” Jack would complain and proceed to run over to you to cover your mouth before you could quote anymore.

#jack champion fanfic #jack champion headcannons #jack champion #ethan scream #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry #headcanon #jack champion imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #relationship #jack champion fluff #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x you #jack champion x y/n

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carajilloplz · 6 months ago

Note

smoke sesh w joost

sorry but yours truly is a lowkey pothead and i haven't smoked in forever because it's illegal in my state so i will be indulging

joost smoking headcanons

i am personally the type to go nonverbal but joost? he'll be the giggliest bitch in the circle. EVERYTHING will make him burst into the most contagious laughter, especially when you start coughing after taking too big of a hit from your bong. you never know why but it always makes him laugh and you just laughed along.

he's also the one who taught you how to roll a joint. once, when you confessed you didn't know how to, he sat you down and taught you how to roll one.

"yes, so keep tightening a little as you roll up... yes, just like that! and ok before you go all the way just give the edge a little lick. good! that's actually great for your first holy shit."

"now I never have to buy prerolls." you said, proudly holding up your lighter to your creation.

oh and the sex? amazing. we know that from bad habit ofc. he just loses himself and, once again, is an absolute munch especially while high.

you'll watch the weirdest things when high. you had finished the midnight gospel a million times, your heart always tender for joost on the last episode, and would have spongebob on loop when you couldn't pick. you'd gone through the entire harry potter series, all of the lego movies and your favorite so far that was new to joost was dazed and confused.

you guys also come up with the best munchies, especially when it's an idea that both of you come up with, like the cookie-oreo-brownie amalgamation that you made once.

"shut up joost! i saw it on tiktok and it sounds really good right now."

he shrugs, "ok fine, i trust you schatje. i'll get on with making the cookie dough"

and there's nothing better to him than just laying in bed on a lazy sunday and sharing a joint with you. no sunday scaries for the week because you'd gotten everything sone, so it was just you in his arms, the smoke curling around you two as the soft sun leaks through the windows.

"joost we are becoming sluggish, lazy, and unconcerned."

"stop quoting frank ocean's mom to me, oh my god."

A/N: um n e wayz i'm literally just pumping out content lol enjoy it before i start my internship...

#joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost klein headcanons

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mrstellmeafuckingsecret · 2 months ago

Text

not even joking fanon sirius doesnt even make me mad anymore (that's reserved for everyone else fanon <3) but he just makes me........... so sad.......... like bro is in a straight up abusive relationship with the man he idolizes more than anything. and he is IN this abusive relationship because of his HORRIFIC home life in which his parents use illegal torture methods on him weekly/daily and he severely lacks any healthy relationships around him, he also never gets any praise (because he's stupid&horrible&bad at everything) meaning he's just going around begging for validation and love? and it's just a joke? like he is literally willing to hurt himself like omg by bby??

(that one incorrect quote where remus kisses sirius' hand because he gets a papercut and sirius asks james to punch him in the face. how is that funny. i literally was so sad. wtf guys.)

and like he gets into this rsp after going through a TON of homophobia and hes like constantly made fun of because he happens to love his bf (who HATES him). everyone (namely his brother: well talk abt him dw) is like "you can do sm better than sirius lmao" and remus is like "yeah lol" like blatantly in front of sirius and sirius is sad and its a funny haha joke like GUYS ITS HORRIBLE

and like !!!! he has no support system!!! he has no friends !!!!! no one loves him !!!!!!! fuck love no one even likes him !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hes constantly patronized and talked down to by everyone. his hobbies are taken over (pranks: remus remus remus, bikes: i dont actually know but ive seen a couple "remus on sirius' bike 💞" and sirius freaking out when like bfr guys) . his best friend. his BEST FRIEND. goes BEHIND HIS BACK. TO DATE. HIS NAZI YOUNGER BROTHER.

THE NAZI YOUNGER BROTHER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOM HE WAS CONSTANTLY COMPARED TO AND DEEMED LESS WORTHY HIS ENTIRE LIFE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHO HE WA SALWAS THE SECOND OPTION TO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hes their parents favored son AND his bfs favored brother and now his BEST FRIENDS favored too???????? go away. fuck you.

and like . his younger brother whom sirius CONSTANTLY TOOK BEATINGS FOR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WITH NO REGARD FOR HIS OWN SAFETY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nad everyones like lmfao why is he overreacting ths is why no one loves him lets ignore him 💀💀💀

and like his brother btw tf like he s always th emartyr nd sirius is indebted to him bc its only because of regulus apparentl y that siriu s was able to escape like gsgnlksfskl

and the PRNAK!!!!!!!!!! omg sirius is like gone in ths universe ok theres no way it wasnt n accident he told snape that and then remus HATES HIM for MONTHS?????? kys he tried so hard

dont even get me on post azkaban "im sorry remus ☹️" "my brothers a hero 🥺"

ugh i cant even word thngs anymore. but like have these these made me REALLY sad.

im in tears. i cant believe you fucks took everything away from sirius and then left him w his trauma. and the fact that this isn t evn a fraction of whats going on, like ffuck you all

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benispunk · 25 days ago

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Who's that girl?

Chapter 4: Before We Speak

Logan always has to be the strong figure, even when everything wants to fall apart.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, mentions of dark backgrounds.

A/N: hello lovelies!! fourth chapter is up whoop whoop🎉. this one is entirely focused on Logan because why not? this is a day in our little honey badger's life and I'm not sorry for anything. it could have been way worse. thanks for all the support on this series!! enjoy this part <3

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Beep Beep Beep Be—

Sometimes Logan wondered how he still hadn’t destroyed that damn alarm clock. He woke up slowly, his body heavy from the comfort of sleep. Finally glancing at his worst enemy of his every morning, he read: 5:30 AM. Time to start the day.

He got up and opened the blinds, though the sun wasn’t up yet, and except for some other people in other buildings, nobody was up yet either.

After a quick shower and pulling on some shirt and jeans, Logan grabbed his keys and backpack, trying not to make too much noise for his roommates that were probably still sleeping deeply.

You’ll sleep later, Logan.

As he stepped outside of the building, the cool morning air hit his face, waking him up fully.

Logan was the one in charge of opening the center and he preferred going there way earlier than everyone else just to get a moment of peace and calm before the chaos started. He checked every room and classes, making sure everything was ready for the day and once this was done, he sat down and served himself one well-deserved cup of (disgusting) coffee.

The center was a large, well-worn building. It wasn't much to look at from the outside—just a faded brick structure with narrow windows—but inside, it was full of life. Colorful posters lined the walls, some painted by the kids themselves, and inspirational quotes were scattered around, the kind that Logan never really cared for but knew meant something to someone.

The lounge area where he sat was small but cozy, with mismatched chairs and a sagging couch that had seen better days. A few shelves were filled with books and board games, and the corner had a coffee station that barely worked. Yet, this was his place— a refuge in the chaos.

Beyond the lounge, the rest of the center sprawled out: classrooms where kids of all ages learned in their own ways, sensory rooms with soft lights and calming music, a large gym where activities were held, and a garden out back where they often took the kids for fresh air. It was more than just a special school; it was a sanctuary for those who needed it.

As Logan scanned the room, his thoughts drifted. He wasn’t one to reflect much, but opening the center every day before anyone else arrived had become his ritual, a moment to prepare for the storm of the day ahead. Today would be like any other— he’d make sure the supplies were ready, the classrooms set, and his mind focused.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the hum of the automatic doors opening.

“Good morning, Logan.”

Logan’s daydream was interrupted by the familiar voice of Charles. The older man entered the lounge in his wheelchair, his presence as steady as ever. Charles had been the head of the center for as long as Logan could remember.

Logan nodded, setting down his coffee. “Morning, Charles.”

Charles wheeled himself closer, pausing just in front of Logan. “Early, as always. You know, you don’t have to get here before the sun’s up every day.”

Logan grunted in response, though there was a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Old habits die hard.”

Charles chuckled. “Well, I appreciate it. Keeps the place running smoothly.” He paused, glancing around the lounge, his expression softening. “How’s everything looking for today?”

Logan leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “Classes are prepped, gym’s ready. Couple new kids starting this week, so I’ll be keeping an eye on them. Should be a normal day.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully, though there was something in his eyes that made Logan pause. “What?” Logan asked.

“Just thinking,” Charles said, his voice dropping a bit. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? All this work, and now…” He trailed off, and Logan knew exactly what he meant. The center was struggling. Funding cuts, low enrollment— there had been rumors for months now that they might not last much longer. It wasn’t the first time Charles had hinted at it, but hearing it out loud still hit Logan in the gut every time.

“We’ll figure it out,” Logan said, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Charles nodded again, but there was a heaviness to the gesture. “I hope you’re right, Logan. For their sake.” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the classrooms, where the kids would soon arrive, full of energy and life.

Logan didn’t respond. He wasn’t one for long conversations, especially not ones that reminded him of things he couldn’t fix. Instead, he stood up and grabbed his coffee, raising it towards Charles in a silent gesture. “I’ll be in the gym.”

Charles watched him go, his expression unreadable.

The gym was Logan’s favorite part of the center. High ceilings, wide-open spaces, and the kind of place where he could let the kids run wild. He liked the controlled chaos of it all—kids bouncing off the walls, their laughter echoing, and the satisfaction of seeing them engage in a world that often felt too overwhelming for them. Here, they were free. Here, they were just kids.

As he stepped inside, Logan could already hear the hum of the day beginning. Soon the first teachers would trickle in. He checked the schedule on the clipboard hanging by the door, making mental notes of the day’s activities. But even as he planned, his thoughts lingered on Charles' words.

What if the center shut down? What would happen to the kids? What would he do?

He shoved the thought away for now, focusing on the present. There were kids to be taken care of today, and that's what mattered.

A sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, pulling Logan's attention to the door. The first wave of staff was arriving.

The first few kids arrived not long after them. Logan could hear their familiar voices echoing down the hallway, some excited, some grumpy from early wake-ups, but all of them ready to start their day. As they trickled in, Logan stood by the entrance to greet them.

"Morning, Bobby," Logan said as a boy with dark, tousled hair bounded through the door, his backpack almost as big as he was.

"Morning, Mr. Howlett!" Bobby called back with a wide grin, not slowing down as he headed straight for the gym.

Next was Kitty, one of the quieter students, who gave him a shy wave as she walked in, hugging her notebook to her chest.

"Morning, Kitty," Logan said softly, offering her a small smile. She nodded without a word, as always, but Logan could see the relief in her eyes. She always felt safe here.

The rest of the group trickled in—about a dozen kids in all, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. Logan knew them well, better than most. He could read their moods just by the way they walked in, and today seemed to be a good day. No tantrums, no meltdowns. Yet.

Once everyone was inside, Logan led them to the first class of the day. History wasn’t always the easiest subject to teach, but Logan had a way of making it work. He kept things simple, focusing on the stories behind the facts— because that’s what kids understood best, the stories.

As they settled into their seats, Logan stood at the front of the small classroom, a whiteboard behind him and a map of the world pinned to the wall.

"Alright, who remembers what we talked about last week?" Logan asked, his deep voice quiet but commanding enough to capture the attention of the room.

A few hands shot up— Bobby’s was the first, as always.

Logan nodded to him. "Go ahead, Bobby."

"We talked about Ancient Egypt! You said they had these huge tombs for their kings and queens, and they put all their treasures inside."

"That’s right," Logan said, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. "The pyramids. But they didn’t just put treasures inside. What else?"

Kitty, who was usually too shy to speak up, raised her hand cautiously. Logan gave her an encouraging nod.

"Um, they put their pets inside too?" she said softly.

"Exactly. Sometimes pets, sometimes even servants." Logan smiled at her, watching her shoulders relax slightly. "Why do you think they did that?"

Bobby’s hand shot up again, but Logan pointed to a girl in the back who rarely spoke— Laura. The girl was staring at the map, lost in thought, but when Logan called her name, she blinked and looked around.

"Uh… because they thought they’d need them in the afterlife?" Laura said hesitantly.

"Right again," Logan replied. "They believed the afterlife was just another version of this life, so they wanted to bring everything with them that they’d need. It’s like packing for a trip, but instead of clothes, you’re bringing your pets and gold." He gave a small smile, which earned a few giggles from the class.

Logan continued the lesson, writing down some words on the board and telling stories of ancient rulers and their grand tombs. He kept the pace slow, knowing some of the kids needed extra time to process, and he made sure to check in with everyone throughout the lesson, gauging their engagement.

As the lesson wrapped up, the bell rang for the morning break, and the kids shuffled out of the classroom, excited to stretch their legs. Logan watched them go, making a mental note of who seemed engaged and who might need extra help later.

He was about to head out for a quick break himself when he noticed someone lingering by the door— Laura, the girl from earlier. She stood there, clutching the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

She had joined the center about a year ago, a girl with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, quick to push people away before they could get too close. Her file said she’d been in and out of foster homes, and she had a history of acting out, of disappearing for days at a time. But Logan saw through it. She wasn’t just acting out for the sake of rebellion. It was survival for her. Trust didn’t come easy.

Each of these kids had been through so much stuff, things they didn’t deserve, things they weren’t even supposed to know at their age, and yet here they were, because the regular system wouldn’t take the risk of taking them in. That’s why this center existed, to help those kids and teenagers society had already rejected.

They were only children. It broke his heart every single day.

Laura was always on edge, always watching. Logan noticed the way she sized people up, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

When she first started at the center, they had clashed. Logan’s patience and calm demeanor only seemed to irritate her more. She didn’t talk unless she had to, and even then, it was usually a one-word answer.

Today, Laura had been quiet. Too quiet.

Logan had learned to read her tells, and something was off.

As the bell rang for the break, she didn’t move. The other kids bolted out of the classroom like they always did, but Laura stayed behind, her eyes still fixed on the window, her jaw clenched.

Logan leaned against his desk, waiting until the room was empty before speaking. "You’re gonna miss your break if you sit there all day."

She didn’t respond. Typical Laura.

Logan watched her for a moment before crossing the room and sitting down in the chair next to her, his body turned toward her but giving her space.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, his voice low and calm, like he was talking to a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.

Laura’s gaze didn’t shift, but her grip on the edge of her chair tightened.

"I know you," she muttered after a long silence, her voice rough. "You’re just waiting for me to screw up again."

Logan sighed softly, shaking his head. "Not here to wait for you to screw up. I’m here to help you."

Laura scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think I’m doing this for fun? Waking up at 5:30 every morning to come here because I got nothing better to do?"

She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure out his angle.

"You don’t get it," she said, her voice harsh. "You don’t know what it’s like."

Logan met her gaze, unflinching. "Maybe I don’t know your exact story, but I’ve seen enough, and I know enough to get the picture. And I know you’re not alone, even if it feels like it."

Her eyes flickered for a second, something passing over her face before the hardened mask came back. She looked away, her jaw tightening again, and for a moment, Logan thought the conversation was over. But then she spoke again, quieter this time.

"I don’t wanna be here anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Logan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Laura’s shoulders tensed, and she gripped the chair so hard her knuckles went white. "This place. This... stupid center. I don’t belong here. I can’t—" She cut herself off, shaking her head in frustration, as if the words were too much to get out.

Logan let out a slow breath. He’d seen this before— the tipping point where a kid was ready to run, because staying still felt too risky.

"You don’t have to do this alone," Logan said gently. "If it feels like too much, we can work on that. Together. But you gotta tell me what's really going on, Laura. Or Professor Xavier. Anybody, really.»

For the first time, Laura’s mask cracked. Her eyes filled with frustration, but behind it, Logan could see the fear. The vulnerability she never let anyone see.

"I don’t belong anywhere," she muttered, her voice shaking. "No one gives a damn. Everyone leaves."

Logan stayed silent for a beat, letting her words sink into the space between them.

"That’s not true," Logan said softly. "You’re here. You’re fighting. You show up every day, even when it’s hard. That says a lot about you, more than you think."

Laura’s eyes flickered toward him, suspicious, but something about his tone made her stay.

"You know what I think?" Logan continued. "I think you’re stronger than you think. And if you want to talk, if you want to work through this... We’re all here. You don’t have to run."

Laura didn’t respond right away, but her shoulders slumped just a bit. The tension that had been coiling inside her all day seemed to ease, if only slightly.

"I don’t know if I can," she muttered.

Logan nodded, standing up slowly and giving her space. "You don’t have to decide today. Just know that the door’s open whenever you’re ready."

He started walking toward the door, expecting her to stay where she was, but then he heard her voice again, small and uncertain.

"Logan?" she asked, and for the first time, she used his name instead of calling him "Mr. Howlett."

"My name is Logan but for some legal reason you have to call me Mr.Howlett," he would say on the first day of school every year.

He turned around, his brows raised.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her gaze dropping back to her hands.

Logan nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Anytime, kid."

As he left the room, he felt a familiar heaviness settle in his chest, one that always came after a conversation like that. The weight of seeing a kid like Laura— someone who was so close to falling through the cracks, struggling to keep her head above water.

But for now, at least, she was still fighting. And Logan would be there to help her keep going, one step at a time.

As Logan left the classroom, the conversation with Laura replayed in his mind, lingering like a heavy weight on his chest. It was the kind of talk that always stuck with him, reminders of the pain these kids carried, the damage they fought to keep hidden.

He walked down the empty hallway, each step feeling slower, heavier. His usual routine of checking on classrooms and prepping for the next lesson seemed far away. All he could think about was Laura’s words, her quiet admission that she didn’t think she belonged anywhere, and how familiar that feeling was.

Logan knew that weight all too well.

He pushed open the door to the staff lounge, needing a moment to collect himself. The clock on the wall told him there were still ten minutes before the next class. It wasn’t enough time to shake this feeling, but he’d take what he could get.

Sinking into one of the chairs, Logan rubbed his hands over his face, trying to push the conversation out of his mind. But it wouldn’t leave him. It never did. It wasn’t just Laura. Every kid at the center carried a similar burden. They all had their demons, their scars. And each one of those conversations weighed him down, little by little.

It was part of the job, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The faint sound of a bell rang out in the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Logan stood up slowly, taking a deep breath before heading out to meet his students. He had to pull it together. For them.

But as he walked back into the classroom, the weight of the conversation with Laura still clung to him like a dark cloud.

The day dragged on, and no matter how hard Logan tried to focus, his mind kept drifting back to the look on Laura’s face— the fear and vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. He kept thinking about how much these kids reminded him of his own past, his own battles.

By the time the final bell rang, Logan was exhausted. Not from the physical strain, but from the emotional toll the day had taken on him.

Just as he was packing up to leave, he spotted Wade through the classroom window. He was standing there with a goofy grin on his face, holding up a small box of donuts and a coffee.

But something felt... off. Wade’s smile didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. He looked tense, distracted. Logan frowned but said nothing at first.

Wade sauntered into the classroom, his usual bravado on full display. “Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan took the coffee, eyeing Wade carefully. “Thanks, man. You okay?”

Wade waved off the question with a laugh that sounded a little too loud. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but he wasn’t convinced. Wade’s humor had always been a shield, something to hide behind when things got too real. He knew that well enough by now.

"Alright," Logan said quietly, breaking off a piece of the donut and offering it to Wade. "If you say so."

Wade took the donut with a shrug, as if nothing was wrong, but Logan could see the tension in his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, chewing slowly. Wade broke the silence first, launching into one of his stories—something about a weird couple at last night’s gig and how he had to improvise a joke to get out of an awkward heckling situation.

Logan just nodded along, smirking occasionally at Wade’s antics. He wasn’t much of a talker, especially compared to Wade, but they had their dynamic down by now. Wade talked, Logan listened. That was how it worked. It wasn’t until Wade’s voice grew a little more strained that Logan felt the crack in his friend’s usual confidence.

As they walked out of the center, Wade was still rattling off his story, his words slightly more rushed than usual.

“I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve—"

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan asked again, cutting him off, his voice quieter this time, more concerned.

Wade immediately put his mask back on, laughing a little too loudly again. “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which, how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, though Wade’s obvious attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s our roommate, Wade.”

“Sure, sure,” Wade said with a wink. “Got it.”

Logan let it go. Pushing Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere. They’d been through this before. He’d talk when he was ready, and when that time came, Logan would be there.

Back at the apartment, the scent of something delicious greeted them as soon as they walked in the door. Y/N was in the kitchen, apron on, stirring a pot of what looked like some kind of stew.

“Hey, perfect timing,” she called over her shoulder. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Logan grunted a small thank you, setting his bag down by the door, but Wade was, as always, much more dramatic.

“Y/N, you absolute angel,” Wade gushed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “I don’t deserve this! But I’ll take it.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at them both. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” Wade replied, but his usual humor seemed thinner, more like a front than ever before. He shot Logan a quick look, as if daring him to say anything. Logan just gave a subtle shake of his head and headed into the living room.

The shadows of the day lingered, tightening around him. He settled onto the couch, his mind racing back to Laura’s quiet admission. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was somehow failing her, as if his own past could offer her a lifeline he wasn’t made to provide.

Wade followed him in, his usual bravado on display but lacking its usual spark. “Hey, did you hear me? I was talking about the heckler,” Wade said, attempting to recapture the lightness that had slipped away from him.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Logan replied, trying to match Wade's tone. He could feel the edges of his own thoughts creeping in, threatening to overshadow their banter. “Sounds like you handled it well.”

“Of course! I’m the best,” Wade said with a grin, though it faltered slightly as he caught Logan’s gaze. “Seriously though, what’s up? You’ve been quiet. Did your kids hit you with one of those heavy questions again?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to drag Wade into his emotional turmoil, especially when his friend was clearly wrestling with something of his own. Instead, he forced a small smile. “Just a long day.”

Wade nodded, his gaze scrutinizing. “You know, you could talk about it, right? We’re here for you.”

Logan shrugged, the weight of Wade’s words hitting harder than expected. He appreciated Wade’s willingness to listen, but he also felt that familiar instinct to shield his friend from the darkness that came with his memories. “I’m good, really.”

Just then, Y/N emerged from the kitchen, carrying a pot. “Dinner’s ready!” she announced, her smile brightening the room. It smelled delicious. He loved that she was settling so well into their dynamic.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best,” Logan said, feeling a warmth spread through him at her kindness.

Wade leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You might be my favorite roommate I’ve ever had.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing between them. “Just trying to make something nice. Hope it’s okay!”

“Looks great,” Logan assured her, though he could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She was still getting used to their routine, just as he was getting used to having her around.

As they gathered around the table, Logan focused on the meal, the rich aromas helping to distract him from his thoughts. Wade filled the silence with jokes and stories. Logan nodded along, trying to engage, but he could feel the tension in Wade’s shoulders, just as he sensed it in his own.

After dinner, as Y/N began to clear the table, Logan stood up to help her. “Let me take those,” he offered, reaching for the plates.

“Thanks,” she replied, her eyes meeting his briefly. He appreciated her easy smile, the way she brought a sense of warmth to their home, but he was still aware of how new everything felt.

Wade lingered at the table, looking at both of them with an unreadable expression. “You two sure seem cozy over there,” he teased, but there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Logan glared at him from the kitchen as the man just winked.

Bastard.

Once the table was cleared, they settled onto the couch. Logan leaned back, taking a moment to breathe. He felt the weight of the day settle in once more, but he was grateful for the distraction of Y/N and Wade. No matter how heavy the conversations, he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

“Alright, what’s next? Movie night?” Wade suggested, a little too brightly.

“Sounds good to me,” Y/N replied.

Logan nodded, grateful for the opportunity to escape, even if just for a little while. They flicked through the channels, laughter and light banter filling the room, but a part of Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were still lurking just beyond the surface. Still, for now, he had this moment— this family —and it was enough.

XXX

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a1ecmcdowell · 23 days ago

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please please please — john b x kook!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, kook!reader. john b in jail </3. it's cutesie though. sex mention, it's at the end so ... do w that what u will.

❛ please, please, please — don't prove i'm right! ❜

john b was so fucking stupid, turning himself in and letting himself be thrown in jail. who did that? you remember from growing up alongside them, throughout the years, both him and jj saying, and you quote, “never trust the fucking feds.”

maybe it was just jj who said it — or at least meant it, with the way that john b scurried off and left. left. left you alone.

the pogues had been to see him in jail already. you hadn’t. you didn’t want to. sitting in a dingy cell with a piece of glass separating them, having to talk through a phone like any of that was fair? no, you couldn’t do it.

until you really, really started to miss him. his friends still hadn’t warmed up to you, so they weren’t very open to hearing your incessant rambling about what john b would be doing right now if he was here. what they thought he ate in jail that day ( jj said mush and mystery meat, and that was enough to halt your questioning for the day ).

kie dragged you to the jailhouse that very next day. sit, she said, stay, like you were a dog.

there was a buzz above the door on the other side of the glass, then the door pushed open, and there he was. face more stubbly than you’d ever seen it, hair a bit ratty, but god, his eyes were so bright, like seeing you was the best thing he’d experienced in a long while.

you already have the phone to your ear. kie didn’t tell you to stay still, after all.

“was waitin’ for you to show up,” he says into the receiver once he sits, lifts it.

you lift your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. he doesn’t have to know you were dragged here because you were annoying his friends.

“so, what’s jail like?” and your voice sounds so damn chipper, as if seeing him behind a wall of glass was just the norm.

john b stumbles on a laugh. “why, princess? wanna join me in here?”

“no,” you choke out, and now you’re laughing too. his laugh is so pretty. it deepens the dimples in his cheeks. “i don’t look good in orange.”

“darlin’, you look good in everything,” he argues, “y’just don’t want to fuck up your nails in these cells.”

he’s always known how to read you like a book. how were you supposed to get through this?

“how do i get you out of here?” you ask, your eyes bouncing between the both of his, as if they held the answer to the world in their irises.

“mmm,” he hums, his smirk softening slightly, “the short answer is that you don’t.”

your manicured fingers curl into a fist. his eyes drop to it resting on the table, and he softens even more. “don’t do somethin’ stupid,” he whispers, the sound of it so cruelly muffled through the phone.

“that’s jj’s job,” you try to joke. neither of you laugh. “we’re working on it. you know? we’re trying to… i don’t know, figure out something.”

“oh, are you? all of you?”

your eyes roll. “okay. they are.” your nails tap on the stone table, looking for something to keep your hands occupied so you don’t turn into a gushy sap. “they wouldn’t let me offer to pay your bail.”

“handout money,” he tsks, “yeah, they wouldn’t do that.”

“i’d do it though. i would.”

john b’s mouth quirks in the corner again. “‘course you would. you miss me so bad you probably feel sick, don’t you?”

you scoff. “i don’t.”

it’s a lie. the truth is that he’s right. he’s not often right in relation to you or him; you weren’t about to let him get an ego trip now.

john b laughs again, hearty and crackly through the phone’s speaker against your ear. “who am i gonna tell in here, princess? don’t act so tough all of a sudden.”

he didn’t know that acting tough was the only thing getting you through this. your boyfriend was in jail. the entire town thought he was a murderer. they looked at you like the crazy girl who’d gotten seduced by the criminal.

the only thing keeping you from crumbling was the ( albeit wary ) support of the pogues. the entire rest of outer banks had turned its back to you.

“please don’t prove i’m right, john b,” you say after a long few seconds. “please don’t let me have a reason to worry about you in here. please, just— just know what you’re doing, not letting me help—”

john b was already nodding by the time you finished. he kept his eyes locked on you, his lips in that infuriatingly soft smile he always wore when you were rambling, or sad, or rambling and sad.

“i know what i’m doing.”

he sounded sure enough of himself that you feel a flood of relieved warmth wash over all of your senses.

it doesn’t last, though. not with the twinkling sparkle in his eyes as he watches you. “now… y’think we could get away with a little phone sex in here?”

support me on patreon!<3

#──★ ˙🍓 dahlia’s jrnl #──★ ˙🍓 short n' sweet!#divider by ianrkives #john b routledge #john b routledge one shot #john b x reader #john b x you #outer banks #obx #outer banks one shot #obx one shot #obx season 4

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luxthestrange · 11 months ago

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Avatar Incorrect quotes#24 The beach

Can you imagine by some chance... Jake, Norm(In his new avatar body), And Tsu'tey for a hunting trip...and you brought along given the flamethrower incident...Either Eywa wanted to create some drama like you do in your stories or...she saw a chance to have Tsu'tey confess to you-

Jake, Norm & Tsu'tey(You being carried on Jake back running for your lives after a group of Viperwolfs hot in their tails

Jake: This could be it, Norm i never got to say it- I just want you to know that you're truly a one-in-a-million friend

Norm: Thanks, buddy! You're the best ever!

Jake I know you won't mind when I tell you...

Norm: Go on! Tell me anything! Tell me what!

Jake: I broke your iPod!

Norm: WHAT?!?

Jake: The buttons were so small w-with this body! It made me mad!

Norm: Oh, no! The horror!!!

Jake: I'm sorry!

Norm: I'm gonna kill you, Your great value thundercat!?!

Jake: It was an accident! An accident!

Norm: great value thundercat!?!

Tsu'tey: I love you, Y/n Sully! I always have!?

You are snoring as everything is going on(You took some sleeping pills to avoid listening to one of jake's jokes n puns ) , Tsu'tey looks at Jake & Norm who just watch him then at each other then back at him, and don't say anything

Tsu'tey *Coughs and fiddles with his fingers looking at them*-L-like... *sighs* Like you love the beach...*stammering* O-oo-or a good book you demons have-Or the beach...

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar na'vi #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar na'vi x reader #na'vi x reader #avatar norm #avatar jake sully #avatar tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey x human reader #na'vi x human #na'vi x y/n #avatar fluff #avatar incorrect quotes #avatar the way of water #incorrect quotes

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chaoticloving · 2 years ago

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new years, new family

harry styles x reader (SOH masterlist)

summary: y/n meets anne and gemma for the first time, and harry's just happy. || w/c: 2.2k

a/n: felt i should post a bit more before im back to class, enjoy and have a good new year!

Anne was an amazing mother. She was kind, empathetic, and had the strong will that helped her do what was right. Harry loved his mum too. Despite all the arguments and the fame, he has always had faith in her. He truly felt the love and comfort that a mother should give any child—and he still does to this day as an adult.

Anne prided on being someone her kids could go too if they needed an ear and always gave her kids space, but that didn’t stop her from being curious about their lives. She would sometimes sneak in a “do you like someone” or “when do you think you’ll have kids” every now and then, but they knew she just had their best interest at heart.

Anne was very careful about what she asked Harry though, not to say that she would be blunt with Gemma, but there were certain questions that would sound too much like a TMZ journalist asking questions. So, Anne would turn to Gemma to maybe slip some detail about Harry’s life.

The last time Gemma came around her mothers though, she did tell Anne that Harry’s got a crush that sort-of, maybe, turned into his girlfriend. “But don’t quote me on this. I don’t know for sure.” Gemma reminded her mother.

But Anne was bubbling with excitement. She knew the girlfriend in question is Y/n, the women Harry might of suitably alluded to having a crush on, and she couldn’t be more excited for her boy. She reminded herself though that she can’t be too pushy, but she can watch the young actresses movies.

After just under six months of dating, Harry decides he wants to tell his family.

“I know my mum won’t tell and Gemma will just make fun of me, I just don’t like keeping you a secret from everybody important in my life.” Harry confessed, kissing his lovers face all over as a way to win her over.

Y/n had a habit of overthinking, but seeing her boyfriends puppy dog eyes she just couldn’t say no.

“I believe you.” She kissed him back. “Just don’t embarrass me when you tell them.”

The next morning Harry was practically jumping from excitement, yet feeling like he needed the bathroom every five seconds from nerves. Harry knew his family wouldn’t hate Y/n or everything of the sort. It was just the fact they would be one of the first to know and their secret relationship wouldn’t be a secret anymore. He knew Y/n wasn’t just in it because of the the secrecy, but the fact still didn’t make him feel any better.

Harry powered through, and made the call.

The line rang a couple times before the cheery voice of Anne rang through. “Hi Honey, so good to hear from you!”

Harry laughed, walking around his London flat aimlessly. “It’s nice to talk to you too. Been feelin’ so busy from work that I think I’ll go crazy.”

“Oh no, well remember to take breaks and focus on you.” Anne thought this was her chance. “Do you have someone you can talk to or someone you feel comfortable with? Go out with them and forget about work.”

Harry blushed, he was in the kitchen and he could see the back of y/n. He thinks she is getting her morning coffee all ready as well as a cup for him.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve met someone.”

The pure joy running through Anne's body was something she last felt when Gemma told her about her last boyfriend.

"And is it who I think it is?"

"Have you been talkin' to Gemma recently?" Harry ask, false annoyance slipped through his voice. "But uh-" He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I think so. "

Anne practically screamed through the phone, excitement radiating though.

"But we are talking about Y/n, right?"

"Yes! Yes, oh my goodness, you finally are together! You two look so adorable together and I know to never buy into something TMZ or Daily Mail says but I saw your little photo and then when Gemma finally told me that you told her that you were talking to Y/n I started watching all of her movies so far and she is very talented, although, i have to admit, when she kissed that other boy in the movie I kept thinking how you would been feeling and--"

A couple seconds into her rant, Harry put Anne on speaker phone and was suffering from the adrenaline rushing though him. He was coming down from the high of fear and going into a tired yet happy state.

Y/n handed Harry a cup of coffee, half cream with a ton of sugar added in, then sat down next to him with her own coffee in hand. Y/n was trying to hide her smile through a look of embarrassment, but the actress couldn't quite hide her emotions from Harry.

Harry nudged Y/n, a smile on his rosey face. They look at each other with such adoration that it was sickening to anyone single.

"Harry? Harry, you still there?" Anne's voice snapped Harry from Y/n's trance on him.

"Yeah, I'm here mum." Harry chided, clearing his throat. "Just got a bit side tracked. What did you say?"

"When are you two coming over then? I know Gemma is coming round for new years so six could work, maybe five, or is that too early for new years?"

Y/n's eyes went wide with shock as she heard Anne's words then she could've sworn her heart stopped beating when Harry replied, as nonchalantly as ever, sure mum.

"Six'll work." Harry said, saying his goodbyes. He hung up his phone and smiled at Y/n. "You excited?"

"Definitely."

...

Y/n was not excited. Not in the slightest.

Y/n and Harry spent the holidays with their own families. They called each other, constantly; and much to Annes delight, and Gemma's partial annoyance, they've been hearing all about Y/n constantly. But a few day's after the holidays, they both met up at Harry's flat to make the journey to Anne's.

Currently, they were in Harry's Range Rover, close to Anne's house. They left a couple hours after Anne's call, knowing the drive is long and traffic would most likely be a nightmare. Harry has made the long drive quite a few times since he has moved to London, he knew it like the back of his hand; Y/n, while she hasn't made this specific drive, has gone on plenty of long trips in her life.

Yet, this drive, was pure torture.

She didn't want to tell Harry thats she is scared. She knows Harry would turn the car around and say it's no big deal, but he would be disappointed.

It wasn't like she didn't like what she has heard about his family, the opposite in fact. It's what they have heard about her.

Currently, the media is portraying Y/n as a serial dater, using someone for a night, or weekend if they're lucky, then dumping them and repeat. And poor Harry is the unconfirmed boyfriend that Y/n is dragging along for a long time.

They got all that from one group photo at a party last month.

It's not true. She knows it's not true, Harry knows it's not true, but does Anne and Gemma know it's not true? Anne invited her when there wasn't too much drama going on, but now? She was terrified for what would happen.

Y/n is just glad that it is just Gemma and Anne tonight, as much as she would want to meet Robin or Desmond, she can't deal with anymore people in one night.

"Okay so a couple tips." Harry started, turning down the volume of the song on the radio, Fleetwood Mac obviously. "One, don't ask Gemma if she is dating someone unless you want her to give you a silent treatment."

She nodded.

"Don't mention fame or anything too out of touch. Not really specific, just general advice because my mum always scoffs at people who flaunt their money."

"You say this in your custom two-hundred-thousand car." Y/n joked, trying to keep her cool.

"I got teased a bit." Harry shrugs, flipping the indicator and turning down a neighborhood. "But that's just teasing."

Harry sighs as he pulls to the side of the road in front of a nice house. It was cozy, yet big enough for a couple and a guest or two. "Ready?"

"Nothing else?"

"Not really sure." Harry fidgeted. "You're the first they would or could meet so..."

Y/n just nods as Harry's voice trails off, it's all she can do. Their thoughts mimic each other.

She's meeting her future in-laws.

I'm meeting my future in-laws.

The only difference was the tone. Excitement and fear.

Harry walked round to the other side, opening her door and holding his hand to help her out. Y/n felt like the paparazzi was watching her, but instead of flashing lights it was curtains suspiciously moving.

Harry knocked on the door, hand in a death grip with Y/n's. "Deep breaths. They're going to love you."

"Harry!" Anne swung open the door and smiled, when she looked over she saw Y/n, causing her to smile brighter and nearly bring tears to the women's eyes. "Y/n! I'm so glad you're here. Come in come in!"

Y/n had her red carpet smile on. She was carful to not make her smile look too obnoxious, but not like she was not excited to be here.

"Ms Twist you're house is beautiful." She complemented, earning her first awe of the night.

"Please, call me Anne." She blushed. "And thank you sweetheart."

"Where's Gem?" Harry asked, taking his shoes off and brushing his hand on Y/n's.

"Living room. She's on the phone with someone." She winked and walked into the house. "Come in, I've got some nibbles for you two."

Y/n mouthed, someone?. Harry just rolled his eyes and mouthed, "ex." She nodded and followed Harry into the the house.

"Gemma get off the phone." They heard Anne yell. "Say hi to the couple."

Gemma’s jaw dropped as she hugged Harry. She saw Y/n and her smile grew. "You're the famous Y/n we've been hearing about!"

Y/n nervously laughed but nodded, excepting the hug happily. Harry sighed thought, face turning a shade of pink. "It's so nice to meet you!" Y/n was smiling. Their first impressions were so far good. They seemed excited to meet her, and Y/n was able to breath finally now.

"Not long until midnight, so I've got to get going on the dinner." Anna decided.

"Let me help!" Y/n jumped at the opportunity to get to know Anne and get in her good graces. Following her to the kitchen and leaving the siblings behind.

"Mum's going to love her." Gemma whispered to Harry, shoving his shoulder. Harry just blushed, happy that his girlfriend is getting along with his family.

Midnight struck, cheers and hugs were done, and a sneaky kiss between the two young and in love celebrities were shared. Anne was tired, so the rest decided to retire to their rooms for the night. Harry took their two bags up to the stairs and revealed the small room that housed talented singer: Harry Styles.

It had grey walled with posters hung all around. As Y/n looked closer behind the records and old CDs tapped to the wall, she found a poorly covered up dent in the wall. "What's this?"

"Something that will definitely give my mum a heart attack." Harry smiled, dropping the bags. "Was playing with some of my friends and one "accidentally" threw a nerf gun at me."

"Sounds fun." She mused, continuing to look around the room. "Seems like your music taste has not changed." Y/n noticed the Joni Mitchell collection, right next to the Stevie Nicks one.

"Nope." Harry sighed, standing next to his girlfriend, but she could sense the smile forming on his face. "I'm glad I threw out all of those porno mags."

"So thoughtful." Y/n pushed Harry away as he laughed. Harry grabbed her and threw themselves onto the small, twin sized bed that had superman sheets on.

"Superman? At sixteen?" She asked.

"Hey, don't hate on superman." Harry defends. "These sheets are too comfy to get rid of."

They laugh a bit more, settling slowly into the silence that the small room gives them. They can hear Gemma talking to someone through the wall, though they don't mind--they're too wrap up in themselves to care.

"Think your family likes me?" She asked.

"Oh definitely. You're much better then any guy Gemma brought round." Harry remarked. "Plus mum loves you loads, it's really easy to see. She doesn't just offer her special margaritas to anyone."

"I'm glad." Is all Y/n says. She's tired now, a long stressful day of nerves really washed her out, but thankfully, she's got an amazing boyfriend to sleep next to.

"I'm glad you got to meet them." Harry admits. "No way you can break up with me now. Mum'll miss you too much."

"I'd miss her too. Not that I'd ever want to break up with you."

Harry kissed her sweetly, "Good, because I'd never do that too. Wouldn't even think of it."

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