#look man I just feel like universal translators that just go in the ear like hearing aids would fall out easily

[egginfroggin]

Links are behaving again! Here's chapter 3, wherein I had too much fun with worldbuilding :>

Happy reading!

[paddymoonstruck]

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello, my love!

I, unfortunately, missed your requests being open (six pages of a thesis is kicking my ass right now) but when they’re open again, is there a chance you could write another Dad!Price fic?

Since the last one felt so personal to me, would it be possible to have Price helping his daughter through Uni stress? Maybe she asks him to help her on her thesis? Lord knows I could use some inspo/assistance on mine!

Of course, if this is too late then feel free to delete it! I just wanted to pop in and drop a request off before I either, A: forgot about it, or B: missed your requests being open the next time :(

Sending so much love and hugs <3

Late Night Cookies

PAIRING: John Price x Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Stressed and still awake, you go to grab food from the kitchen before you get right back into your work. Your father talks some sense into you over a nostalgic recipe.

WORDCOUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: Stress around school, grades, papers, etc. but 90% fluff and comfort

A/N: I'm so glad you sent something in, Love! So good to hear from you again!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your eyes were blurry and your hands were shaking, the table light shining too brightly in the stillness of your bedroom as a cold breeze wafts through the cracked window. 

The words swirled on your computer screen, sitting in front of you as your head slipped forward. Letters bleed into nonsense sentences that even a genius couldn’t make sense out of. There were weights on your fingers—keeping them stuck to the keys. 

“And, thus,” your garbled speech slips out, reading the line you’d just written; eyes squinting as your headache flares. “A-and…thus…” 

Shaking your head, you pull back and press your palms into your eyesockets, your spine flopping back with an audible crack as it straightens from hours of hunched torture. A groan slips out of your lips. 

“Shit,” you growl, sighing harshly. 

University, while necessary, was really your worst enemy right now—you’re constantly stressed and getting little sleep; when was the last time you’d eaten? Pages upon pages of typed research seer your eyes while closed. Only in this tight silence of your room were you able to hear the small sounds of the TV on in the house as it wafts in from under the line of your door. 

Your hands slip down your face as you stare blankly at your ceiling, eyes burning with fatigue. The muffled shouts from football games play in your ears. 

Humming, you push back from your desk and stand, stumbling for a second as your numb legs get prickles of electricity shooting through them. You needed food, water, even. Then you can get back into it. On the way out you snatch a blanket from the frame of your bed, wrapping it over your shoulders to preserve heat. 

Like a snail, you shuffle over the hardwood before finally pushing out into the hallway with only a small bump into the door frame. Hissing, the darkness of the house was good, and before long you’d grumbled past the large form laying on the living room couch in need of any form of sustenance. So brain-fried, you end up completely missing the small questioning ask of your name as Liverpool fights off another rival on-screen. Slashing colors dance across the darkness. 

The hand on your shoulder, though, you can’t miss.

“Sweetheart?” Your father’s voice brings you back from blankly nodding off into his chest as he turns you around. You jerk back with a rapid fluttering of your eyelashes. 

“Yeah?” Your voice slurs, croaky, and you rub again at your cheeks with the corner of your blanket. “What’s up?”

Blue eyes blink down at you in shock at your state, small noise made in the back of the large man’s throat. “Hell’s this, then? Thought you were sleeping already.”

“Sleeping?” The tone is incredulous, a bit of sanity leaking back into your speech. You look up into your dad’s face and his tight beard; his eyebrows are curled in. “I’m not even close to being done. I can’t sleep yet.” 

John blinks slowly, gaze darting from the sizable bags under your eyes to the redness of your sclera—the veins that reach for your irises like infectious fingers. His grip on you tightens. 

“When’s the last time you took a break, Love?” He asks slowly, taking you by the shoulders and bending down a little. He looks concerned. “It’s bloody dark out.”

You stare and huff a sheepish, tired, smile while your dad’s expression tightens with exasperation. He blinks in disbelief at your non-answer, answer. 

“Fuckin’ hell…c’mon, Sunshine, off to bed.” Your head is already shaking.

“I’m hungry.” John sighs, and the air ruffles your hair. But he relents and before you know it there’s a hand on the back of your shoulders corralling you into the kitchen. You lean heavily into your father’s side, and his fingers curl over your opposite arm. 

A soft kiss is pressed to your head. 

“How long have you been up, eh?” You yawn and lick your lips. Flinching when John flicks the kitchen light on. Burrowing down into your blanket, you seep in his heat like a greedy lizard. “Sweetheart?”

“Dunno,” you’re guided over to the island and plopped down into a chair. “I need to finish my work.” 

He chuckles and you slouch over to fold your arms, resting your chin on them. “Well, I suppose you plan on finishing it half-asleep?” 

John opens the fridge, looking over the small remnants of supper. He frowns and turns to look at you as your face lays sideways on your limbs. You blink slowly at him.

“...Maybe,” you grumble, face hot. 

Your father grunts and closes the fridge, turning back around and crossing his arms. 

“No more of this, eh?” He begins, glaring and infecting his words with that infectious authority. “After we get you fed, you’re off to bed. That’s that.” 

You’re about to protest before your dad interrupts with a stern growl of your name. You grit your teeth and shamefully dip your head. There’s a moment of silence where the outside sounds of wind and creaking can be heard—the entire world asleep beside the father and daughter in the dim kitchen.  

John tilts his head and softens his face; feet carrying him over. Stopping beside you, he places his hand on your scalp and pats you gently, rubbing his thumb into your hair. Lashes flutter, and your body sags into the counter even more. Your father kisses your head and whispers, “You need your sleep, Sweetheart. This’ll do you no good. Pace yourself, you’ll get it done—I promise, yeah?”

“How do you know?” Your voice mutters, hesitation finally showing itself. Eyes stare at the table, red and dry. 

Your father chuckles and you glance back. He’s smiling in his own way, wrinkles showing and eyes crinkling with amusement.

“You’ve gotten this far. My girl’s not one to give it up. And even if you do,” he stands and pats your shoulder before he heads to the pantry. Your expression leaks slight confusion as he opens the door. “We can figure it out together. It’s not the bloody end of the world. It’ll pass.” 

Your internal anxiety eases at your parent's reassurance, his casual surety more of a blanket than the one you already swaddle yourself with. The subtle anxious shaking of your fingers stills after a moment of cognition. Stuffing down another yawn, you feel a warmth burn in your heart at the words and you smile. 

“When did you get all wise?” You tease, seeing John take out various ingredients as you watch. He scoffs.

“The second I got the call I was needed in hospital and had a damn daughter.” You laugh. 

“Alright, then,” your sarcastic reply slips out, and John chuckles lowly. After a moment you can’t stop your curiosity, no matter how much your limbs stay heavy. “What are you doing?”

A large bowl had been placed on the counter with a dull thunk. Blue eyes darted at you before measuring cups were spawned next to the previous object. 

“What’s it look like, then?” John’s finger casually points to a recipe that had been set up on the wall, a thin and damaged piece of paper with chicken scratch; stains, and crumpled corners. You blink at it in recognition.

“...Cookies?”

“You want chips or cinnamon?” 

Watching with wide eyes, you clear your throat and utter, “Uh, c-chips, I guess?” John grunts and focuses with a calm face. The recipe had been a sort of inside joke between the two of you. 

When your dad was off on assignment for long periods, you’d always make him a batch when he was set to leave and when he came back—a kind of soothing gesture to ease the uncertainty. To let him know you’d be alright without him here. 

He made them for you when you were sick or feeling bad. You blink quickly to dispel the sudden wetness of your eyes. 

“You helping?” John asks, not turning to you, as he dumps flour into the bowl. “Won’t taste right if you don’t.” A cheeky tone hits your ears. 

Standing, you shuffle over and grab at the chocolate bag, digging inside and stealing a few before your dad can stop you. He gives you a fake glare, huffing under his breath before smirking to himself.

Your body leans into his side and you giggle as he rubs his beard into your head. 

—

Hours later, you rest limply against your dad’s shoulder on the living room couch, empty plate on the coffee table and the TV low. You breathe softly and get the sleep you both deserve and need—of course, the work would start back up tomorrow, but it always would. Having your dad in your corner was the thing to keep you upright; your rock. 

John looks down and watches you with a deep well of affection and ease. He kisses your head before his arms reach around you, lifting with no problem. 

He carries his little girl, because that was what you would always be, off to bed and tucks you in. Snapping off your desk lamp with a small sigh of contentment and a low hum.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[futureplayboibunnie]

Strong Enough

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

18+ MDNI (y’all pls this is filthy)

- GIGGLING. KICKING MY FEET. i came back from spiderverse with JUST THIS MAN ON MY MIND. oscar isaac ur service is appreciated cause gah dayum.

- i had to write some super angsty smut abt him. i just had to, he’s so lana del rey vinylllll. i’m sorry if my spanish is crap (i had to use google translate bc my stupid ass took german instead of spanish in school- pls tell me if there were any mistakes. kiss kiss x)

warnings: dom!miguel, pnv, lotsa dirty talk (think i got carried away), angsty miguel, FANGS, sort of a soft end. AGGHH IM SO CRAZY ABOUT HIM WHAT THE FUCK.

enjoy bbygirls x

Miguel was furious as usual, his blood was beating like a drum with it, his mind buzzing akin to white noise. New anomalies, new foes but mostly a pesky kid who didn't know how to stay put and shut the fuck up- Miles Morales. He was seething- his eyes glowing a crimson hue violently assaulting against the hazel of his eyes. He looked like shit. Hell, he felt like shit. He was slipping, letting things get in the way, and he blamed you for it. Miguel doesn't slip. Miguel doesn't let things get in the way. Only until you came into his life and veered him off his intended course.

It was his hegemonic masculinity piping up like a hot breath down his neck. Miguel brought together the spider society- he was the solution to every problem, every anomaly, the answer to every spider. But he doesn't answer to himself. No, he didn't. You were the one that was overseeing Miguel's little society, hiding and checking in from time to time if the multiverse wasn't fucked up and every dimension was in a semi-stable state. Miguel was in control of the other spiders, he had to run his orders by you first even if you weren't at HQ half of the time. Being in a subservient position was exorbitantly and intensely frustrating and it made him highly hostile to anyone who talked to him.

You on the other hand had the jurisdiction to give him the authority- you gave him the damn idea, you were from his damn universe, but you couldn't deal with the politics and moral dilemmas that came with leading it. Also, you enjoyed toying with him. Fuck you found so much satisfaction in crawling through him, blowing at that over-inflated ego, those broad shoulders filled to the brim with hubris and pride. Hm, he was good at what he did though- actively scaring off anyone who dared speak against him. Except for Morales. You appreciated his pluck, it reminded you of yourself. Miguel was formidable but you understood why he needed to apprehend Morales- for some reason every time you were near the kid you started glitching out, it fucking hurt and messed with your brainwaves. You understood why he had to capture Miles but you didn't agree with how he was handling it. Miguel was sitting at his desk trying to figure out why this was happening and why this was happening to you but he came up empty. He didn't know what to think about it let alone do. It made him feel uneasy and he hated it. Cómo pedo solucionar esto? (How do I fix this?) kept looping throughout his head and it made him feel helpless and weak. Two words he would never associate with himself.

‘’Miguel.’’ Your voice echoed off the walls and shot straight to his ears, it was smoky and breathy.

"Y/N. Qué estás haciendo aquí? What do you want?’’ His usual low timbre makes your brows furrow involuntarily. ‘’Get out of the shadows.’’ He ordered and for once you listened to him, hopping on his platform behind him.

‘’Morales.’’ You stated deadpan knowing the reaction he was going to get, Miguel's eyes drastically narrowed and changed from a soft ambient scarlet to a scorching blood red. He turned his face a little to the side to glare at you.

"That kid touches anything in another dimension, I'll kill him myself.’’ He replied huskily. You weren't sure if you could trust his words. Yes, he was capable of it but you know deep down he wouldn't want to.

His moral compass strayed once, he won't let that happen again. Never.

"You wanna kill kids now? Is that how low we're going?'’

'We? There's we now?’’

You cocked your head at his question, your face remaining hard.

He stared at you in silent fury, of course he wouldn't want to resort to that but he had to do what he had to do. Miguel was surprised you didn't want to take him yourself considering he makes you glitch out. He hates you, God he hates you. But what happened to you...scared him. You'd been a part of this for so long, if anyone was going to hurt you it would be him- not anyone else. If anyone else did- Miguel dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.

Sometimes when he looked at you, he couldn't help but admire your callousness, your brutality yet your undying generosity to people who didn't deserve such a royalty. On the other hand, you were fucking gorgeous. He hated it. It was distracting. It was cruel. Though he couldn't help a little blip or mishap with his thought process- he was still a man after all. Miguel wondered what was under that suit. Wondered what you would like with nothing on at all. Wondered if you would still talk back with that snotty little attitude if you were choking on his dick instead. Though he wouldn't trust you not to bite his dick off in the process. Would you like his fangs? Would you like his claws? He shouldn’t be thinking such a thing.

‘’I should ask you the same question since he affects your stability también.’’ He replied calmly, slightly shocking you. ‘’No matter, I'll stop it. Alone.’’ He growled as he stepped off the platform, tired of entertaining this conversation with you. ‘’You've done enough damage as it is, now I have to fix it.’’

‘’I caused this damage? You realize how fucking stupid you sound. You control the spiders, I let you make orders.’’ You strike a harsh tone as you jolted in front of him to stop his path. Shit, he towered above you, all broad shoulders and disheveled hair. Although he undermined you like this, you wouldn't mind it in other situations...but at work, he was quite literally a piece of work and it made your blood boil. You both knew, you both could feel the palpable hatred swinging and beating again. ‘’And alone? I don't trust you not to kill him, Miguel.’’ You scowled, your eyes wide and piercing through him, halting him in his tracks. The gaze shared between you both was impenetrable, scorching, a battle against wills.

‘’I can't let you.’’ He shot back with a frown and grating red eyes.

‘’While I watch helplessly from the sidelines? I don’t think so. ’’ You challenged him white cold.

‘’I'm asking you, don't let me make you.’’ He gritted through clenched teeth, his fangs lightly protruding.

He was trying to scare you, it wasn't working.

‘’What is this to you? Playtime? To prove you're the strongest, to create fear wherever you go?’’ You pleaded with him orotund, inviting a yelling match to prove you weren't going down easy on this occasion.

You let Miguel do whatever he damn pleased like this was his own hunting grounds- but you won't let him lose his sanity.

‘’What? No.’’He replied shocked and confused at your presumed reasons why he was doing this. He just had to. He couldn't tell you the deep-rooted reason.

He didn't want to admit it.

Fuck, he couldn't admit it.

What kind of man would that make him?

What kind of leader? What kind of example would he be?

‘’Then what is it-?’’ He was trying to walk away from you but you snaggled onto his suit and brought him back to face you. ‘’Tell me.’’ You ordered stiffly.

‘’I have to do this alone.’’ His voice faltered a little and he was afraid that you might have heard it, that he gave you a glaring view of how quickly he was slipping through the cracks- how weak you've made him, how weak he was becoming.

‘’Why? Why do you need to, Miguel?!’’ You were almost yelling at him and no one other than you would get the privilege of living if they did that.

‘’Stop it.’’ He grunted like a wild animal.

"Then what-? What is it?’’ Your eyes searched for his as he was avoiding looking at your face, terrified that it would be written all over it. His heart was pounding.

‘’I'm not-‘’

‘’Not what?’’ You implored, pushing him further and further to the edge.

‘’I'm not strong enough.’’

‘'Strong enough? Oh yeah, and going after a kid will make you stronger.’’ You chided, eyes stiff cold, and judgemental.

‘’Yes, fuck. I-. No!’’ Miguel raked an exasperated hand through his hair, his palm was twitching and his talons were ready to come out. If only he could make you understand without telling you- but you were insatiable, a tick under his skin. Ready for another fucking fight.

Your eyebrows wilted as you said the words, so unbelievably paralyzed by his gall, his hubris, his never-ending need to prove he's the strongest, that he could do all of this. You knew he fucking could. ‘’That's what this is, some sort of bench press exercise for you? Some sort of work-out?!’’ Miguel grabbed you by the arms and his talons pinched at your skin through his suit, like he was trying to shake some sense into you.

‘’I can't lose you again!’’ He yelled at you, his face merely inches away from yours.

Your mouth popped open at his frazzled admission of honesty, his glowing red eyes faded as he stared at you, hoping for an answer he was sure you wouldn't give him. Miguel's harsh expression was lost with the wind when he hung his head to avoid that fucking look in your eyes. The one that made all the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders all the more fucking heavier, his hands raked down your arms as if he was soothing himself, and his breath became heavier as he closed his eyes to process the words he uttered. You glitching out every time Miles was near you is not an option he was willing to entertain: it was his job to worry about anomalies and canon events but on this occasion- he didn't. And he was admitting that to you.

It's not the fact that he's dangerous or an anomaly. It's because of you.

What kind of selfish would that make him?

Last time that happened he lost everything.

He would never make the same mistake again.

But look at him now.

Making the same mistake.

‘’I can't lose you. No otra vez....I'm not str-I'm not strong enough.’’ His head hung low as if the weight of the universe was saving him from completely falling apart.

You sighed in a mix of relief and pity. This is what it was all about? Pobre cosa (poor thing). Your eyes were wide with a magnetic pulse and your body was radiating a mesmeric need. He felt it. Your hands flew to his chest and slowly meandered to his broad shoulders, he was panting in exhaustion and regret but your fingers went to his chin and jutted it upwards so your longing stare could meet his. It was a scorching look between two tired and exhausted people. Miguel was working himself so hard and you just wanted to make him forget about it, just once.

‘’Miguel…’’

‘’Ahora me he dado cuenta de que no puedo hacer nada de esto sin ti.’’ (I've now come to realize that I can't do any of this without you). Miguel's eyes flitted to your lips, his voice low and husky...needy. ‘’But I'm a selfish man... y te necesito.’’ (and I need you). Your face looked blank, it's obvious you didn't understand a word he was saying. ‘’Whatever, you wouldn't understand what I'm saying anyway.’’ Miguel dismissed you as he let go of your embrace and attempted to head out.

Before he could move away too far, you exposed your wrist and webbed him, dragging him back to you. His eyes glinted with a surprise yet they were dark with need and arrogance. Miguel was in front of you and your pussy started throbbing. His senses went into overdrive and he couldn't hold back his will to not touch you anymore.

‘'He entendido cada palabra que me has dicho.’’ (I've understood every word you've ever said to me.)

He gripped your face and kissed you hard, it was furious and mean, and he tasted dangerous- just as you expected, just as you had been silently begging him to. Lord, you were sure you'd regret this but right now your body was alive. Miguel's massive hands pulled at your hair to open your mouth wider

'’Miguel...féllame, por favor.’’ (fuck me, please) you uttered breathlessly, his mouth traveling from your bottom lip, chin, and then neck. His lips then went to breathe raggedly in your ear.

‘’You've understood everything I've ever said under my breath about you?’’ He murmured, imploring you to make him understand. He thought he had the privilege of saying things secretly as no one understood his Spanish but him, so he could say things he didn't want to keep inside without anyone else knowing. But you pulled the rug out from under him, you've been fooling him. He hated it. The number of times he's mumbled how much he wanted you under his breath- fuck.

‘’Mhm.’’ You moaned as his hands flew to your hips and slammed you down on his desk with no finesse, planting himself between your soft thighs. ‘’I thought you would've caught me earlier than this chico.’’ You teased- the thought made him angry. His talons seeped out of his skin and ripped at your suit, exposing the bare skin of your waist.

‘’Y me he dado cuenta de lo mojada que te pones cuando estás cerca de mí.’’ (And I've noticed how wet you get when you're near me) The filthy words rolled off of his tongue like velvet. ‘’Don't think you have the upper hand here sweetheart.’’

‘’Even when I want you to fuck me, you still have to fucking argue with me.’’ You growled as your hands burrowed into his long raven hair

‘’Oh, but you like it this way.’’ He smirked in your ear, the cadence of his voice reducing your knees to that of fucking jelly.

"How do you know what I like? You never asked.’’ You flirted back, treading on dangerous waters with the man that is known for having paper-thin patience.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ Miguel clawed at your waist and then spun you around so the tops of your thighs were. digging into the translucent glass of his desk. All of a sudden, he placed his large palm just below your neck and shoved you flat onto the desk just with brute force. You were sure you were about to start salivating.

‘’Oh, mierda.’’ He breathed raggedly, his wandering hands ripping at your suit. ‘’Beautiful, dangerous, deadly. Pretending as if you're better than me... like you're not capable of killing.’’ He ripped at your suit some more, exposing more of your skin. Your breath trembled in anticipation as he bent down to whisper hotly in your ear, your ass already feeling his strong- oh. Shit. ‘’You drive my fucking crazy, you know that?’’ He ripped your suit until it was nothing but scraps. You were naked and desperate under him.

‘’Me vuelves loco.’’ (You make me insane).

‘’Stop fucking talking and just take me, Miguel.’’ You whined desperately as your cheek pressed coldly against the glass, your hair splaying all over your shoulders like a waterfall.

‘’Abre la boca.’’ (Open your mouth) He growled like an animal but you were too concerned with your wobbly legs and fraying patience, you replied with a stunned silence, almost jittering like a fool. A frown contorted on Miguel's perfect face, scrunching up his chiseled, picturesque features. His right hand gripped your hair pulling you up to him, his left hand brushed against your lips until he fully force-plunged two fingers in your mouth- saliva coating his fingers as you gagged and choked. Oh, he couldn't wait to get you on your knees- the thought provoked some visceral reaction within him.

‘’'That's it, good girl.’’ He grumbled the affirmation and it sent sparks shooting throughout your body.

Miguel rarely ever praised or complimented so this....fuck. ...this was different, you felt so damn special to him. The ever-so-broody Miguel O'Hara calling you a 'good girl' made an unstoppable moan rip through your throat. ‘’Oh, so you like to be loud? Seems like you can't shut up when you're getting fucked too.’’ He insulted adding insult to injury which just made you sweat.

‘’Is the venom from your fangs rushing straight to your head, Miguel? Or did you not hear what I said?’’ You spat with a distinct sharpness that he'd come to expect from you, he was glad to see he hadn't scared the personality out of you which he had the tendency to do to every single person he met. However, one thing he absolutely couldn't tolerate was backtalking- which you had a tendency to get away with most times but he thought this was the perfect situation to reinstate his rules. Miguel tugged on your hair again like his own personal leash.

‘’Puede que quiera joderte ahora mismo, pero no pienses ni por un segundo que no te haré sufrir en el proceso.’’ (I may want to fuck the shit out of you right now but don't think for a second that I won't make you suffer in the process) His voice was aggressive and heady and you were stiff with arousal, your pussy was aching for him.

‘’Por favor Miguel.’’ You begged softly and it made his gaze narrow and his fangs spike out of his gums.

At times like this, he was glad he had a suit that would come on and off as he pleased- right now he was sweating with need and he was thankful he was able to quickly rid of his suit. Miguel didn't think he would be this hard, but then again you did always have a knack for surprising him when he least expected it. His large palm smacked at your ass and he was happy to see a large indent of the outline he made. Like he had a claim on you.

‘’Miguel!’’ You whined like a bitch in heat.

He didn't listen to your plead, he didn't even tease you into it first, his rigid dick just slipped into your soaking wet heat and he'd never felt this pleasure...ever. You were seriously about to cry. He wanted you to. Your pussy molded around his dick, and you were afraid he wasn't even going to fit- but Miguel always finds a way. He felt so...fucking good. The dull ache inside of your stomach was twisting into a fit of knots and butterflies, he quite literally pulsated inside of you

"Tan apretado cariño.’’ (So tight sweetheart) Miguel's chest rumbled alongside his dirty words. Fucking hell, it was like you were vacuum sealed to his dick. He started rutting into you with abandon, without mercy.

You felt so good. He was so.. good...at this, as much as you hated to admit it. He kept pawing at your body, his talons creating the animalistic tension that much heavier between you.

‘’Mi vida...’’ He purred in your ear, going harder and faster with every pained moan that ripped through your throat like it was an incentive for him to keep going.

‘’So perfect for me. Squeezing me so well...Mierda.’’

‘’You want me?’’ You teased innocently as you twisted your head to look at him through doe eyes. His eyes were roaring red as his grip on your hips seeped into your skin harder.

‘’You know I do.’’ Miguel gritted through clenched teeth, baring his fangs. The sight just made you wetter. ‘’Let me show you how much.’’ He bent down and it felt like he was going to snap you in half, you were so close to reaching your peak. To add insult to injury, he bit down on the skin of your bare shoulder blade and blood dripped from his fangs when he pulled away- your moan in response was that of perfection. Fuck it hurt but it felt amazing.

‘’It's okay, mi vida, come for me. I won't tell.’’ Miguel cooed, showing a tender side to him as he kissed down your shoulder blade to your back. You obeyed his command and came onto him- violently, so fucking hard. A guttural groan rumbled from his chest and your honeyed pants brought him back to life- a cause and effect. He fucked you through your orgasm and allowed himself the privilege of finishing inside you.

Miguel pulled out of you, leaking against the back of your thigh in the process. The scene was filthy, completely obscene and you never thought this would actually happen. ‘’Stay still princesa.’’ He commanded and you actually listened to him. The pressure of Miguel's body left you exposed as your ears pricked up to hear a rustle of draws and a clattering of things behind you. You turned your head around and his hologram suit was back on, it hugged him so fucking tightly your knees were starting to shake again.

You felt his presence again as you felt a cloth clean up the leaks down your thighs. ‘’Muchas gracias, Miguel.’’ Smartass. You flirted and he just smirked back at you, helping you stand up straight and face him when he got you cleaned up. You gazed up at him, quite chipper if you were being completely honest. Maybe a good hard fucking from his was all you needed to straighten you out. His eyes were still greedy as they raked up and down your naked body.

‘’As much as I prefer you like this...here.’’ A hologram covered you and your suit was back on, fine lines and all- well, that's easier than what you have to go through every day to get it sitting nicely.

You gazed at the scraps of your suit that were on the floor. Jesus Christ, he fucked like an animal.

"Nice to know chivalry isn't dead.' You tiptoed so you could get closer to his face and kissed his cheek. ‘’Thanks for the fuck, Miguel. Also by the way, I'm still not letting you kill that kid.’’ You patted his shoulder sarcastically- toying with him even further. You just walked away from him and his platform, you left him in a stunned silence and a blank expression, he scoffed breathlessly as he turned around to see you saunter away so damn confidently.

‘’Princesa no tan rapida.’’ (Not so fast princess) He replied back with a broken half smile. He suddenly exposed his wrist and a web flew to your waist and he instantaneously pulled you back in front of him. The breathless expression on your face was something that needed to be showcased in galleries.

‘’Can't lose me again? Object permanence is a thing you know torombolo.’’ You joked and his brows furrowed slightly in response, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

‘’Don't joke about that mi vida.’’ Miguel's face had a sheen of concern and it made your stomach twist into butterflies. ‘’You could die.’’ His voice came across as more stern than intended but you didn't back away like anyone else would do- you accepted him for who he was.

‘’Oh, Miguel...Please, we'll figure it out. But that kid you're after is probably scared and alone- just like you were, just like I was and I don't want that to swallow him.’’

‘’But every time-‘’ You pressed your pointer finger to stop his lips from moving.

"Shush. I've always trusted you, Miguel, now I don't even think there's a point in me being your higher-up. If we work together, you don't have to be afraid.’’ You caressed his face tenderly and he got lost in the softness of your words and your ever so guileless eyes.

‘’Okay?’’ Miguel turned his head to kiss at your palm as an affirmation.

‘’Okay.’’

[simp-4-sasuke]

you_and_sasuke_get_along_(too much ?).txt

anon asked :

Can you write how'd ltachi react to yn being friendly and close to Sasuke?!? Or any of guy bestie?!?

-> omg first ever request yayyyy ! Tysm for requesting ♡ I chose to write it with Sasuke and hopefully I did that well ^^ I'm not new to writing but I am with making headcanons so this might look all over the place sorry ˙◠˙

# itachi×f!reader

#fluff, slight angst

# no tw here, slight jealousy that stems from insecurity on Itachi's side.

▪︎Itachi was well known for being a strong man that stood straight in his shoes, despite all the obstacles life had thrown at him.

▪︎And he had little to envy to his teammates or the other masculine figures around him.

▪︎But knowing that wasn't going to be enough anymore, it seems...

▪︎When Itachi met you for the first time, he just knew you were the one. He'd never forget the way your Chakra tingled his skin when you walked up to him with a smile.

▪︎And just like the universe had planned it, you two got together.

▪︎fuck how cliché that sounded, Itachi couldn't find any other way to describe it : it felt like his life only really started once you came into it.

▪︎Of course, he just had to have you meet his little brother, although a bit expectantly. Sasuke was one of the most (if not the most, let's be honest here) important persons to him, and the possibility of him disapproving your relationship had cold sweat sticking on his forehead.

▪︎that wasn't fortunately the case. At all, actually. Since you and sasuke ended up growing closer to each other in the span of a month.

▪︎Itachi was relieved, of course, but also surprised : he didn't know his brother to be so... outgoing.

▪︎he guessed it was for the best. There was no one he trusted more than the two of you, and never did the thought of you betraying him even cross his mind.

▪︎Itachi knew you'd never do that to him, neither would his brother, but...

▪︎apprehension left its place to surprise, then to relief and finally to something he wished he'd never feel towards sasuke : jealousy.

▪︎Itachi would drown in shame for thinking like this, never saying a word about it to you because, in all honesty, it was stupid.

▪︎but although he was aware of how unrational his jealousy was, he couldn't help it.

▪︎you'd tell him about what sasuke and you talked about today, and he'd listen with a gentle smile on his lips, though his eyes were like black coal, hiding the envy pinching at his heart. He wanted to have you talk about his fights with awe, too, have you brag about how amazing of a ninja he was...

▪︎you'd somehow notice and take advantage of a warm bath together to brush your fingers through his hair, combing it as you kissed the rough skin of his shoulder, slowly making your way to his ear.

▪︎Itachi simply stopped breathing, body stilling in fear that even a shiver from his side would make this unexpected blessing vanish into thin air.

▪︎his heart is pounding, pounding like it never did before, and itachi feels an uneasiness constric his throat as the realization that he has a heart, pumping, loving, aching, made him somehow emotional.

▪︎he listens with closed eyes the words you whisper to him.

▪︎"I love you, all of you," you mutter and he's glad you can't see his face as you press your lips against a pinkish line on his back. "Every scar, every flaw, everything, Itachi. I love you."

▪︎he exhales a shaky breath and his tense muscles relax, inching his head back until it rests on your shoulder. And he smiles, his ears catching the regular beating of your heart.

© simp-4-sasuke 2023 ‎♡‧₊˚ do not copy/translate/repost

[pr0wlerpunk]

P.s- I love you

Person: 1610!Miles morales

Afab!reader

Requested:|Yes|No|

@alisblackgf : can I get earth-1610!miles x Reader where they’re childhood best friends and are just like. In love with each other. And then confess. IDK IM A SUCKER FOR FLUFF AND CONFESSIONS

Warnings: angst(?), slight cussing, both miles and reader being Extremely oblivious to each other’s feelings, miles and reader are both 16 bc I feel like it’s more realistic for 16 year olds to have this sort of issues(idk man), the ending is rushed ngl

Translations; Amor: love, Mi Vida: My Life, Mi Corazón: my heart

Tags: @alisblackgf

Ever since you could remember you knew miles..

See growing up your mother was a hairstylist, so that meant she knew any and everyone.

From the browns to the jakobs…

But there was always one name that stood out most

Morales…

Your mother was friends with Rio and your father with Jefferson-which automatically made you friends with their son, miles.

Miles was a sweet boy, always doing right and helping out his family

But

Boy was he shy

When you all first met he never walked away from his mom’s side, which you thought was weird since you were only 5

But as time grew miles warmed up to you, and you realized just how amazing he was

And I mean so amazing that all you wanted to do was be around him

So your mom made plans and before you know it, you lived a couple blocks down from the Morales’s

Every birthday was spent at each other’s houses

Every Christmas

Every thanksgiving

Any and everything was done together..

You and miles grew up close together, so close that even some would say it was the universe proving how you both were meant to be

He was your corazón

And you

His vida…

🕷️

12 years later

You had officially made it to the same school as miles, and would not leave him alone.(not that he minded, you were his girl after all..even if he hadn’t said it yet)

He was your boy and you made sure everyone knew that…

Especially that little Gwen Stacy chick.

When miles first told you about her you thought she was alright, she seemed smart, and she had an interest in the drums

He told you how they met and how he wouldn’t clarify it as them being friends

But still, the way he talked about her made it seem different..

You weren’t the jealous type, but something about her was off…

And then next thing you knew, he was always leaving with her

“Sorry [___], Me and Gwen have some plans after school, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

At first you thought it was ok, miles was making more friends and you were happy for him…

But every time you would ask him to hang or even walk home together he would always say he had plans with Gwen…

“I promised Gwen I’d help her with something today, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

It was all bout her

“Ah [___], I forgot me and Gwen have to do something right now, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

Normally you wouldn’t care if he flaked but you had something for him…

A letter.

You had spent hours on perfecting it

Now it was just about giving it to him…

But maybe you’d wait a little.

🕷️

And so that’s what you did,

You waited..

Hours had became days…

days turned into nights….

And nights went into weeks.

And then you realized

Nothing was going to change unless you made the change and reached out

And so the very next day, you did…

🕷️

Rio, miles mom let you in after school telling you how happy she was to see you and how miles was In his room

You thanked her and made your way to his, the path now unfamiliar since the last time you had been there

Which was-if you could remember-a week or two

As you neared his door you could hear hushed voices.

You leaned in slowly, pressing your ear to the door

“Im telling you Gwen, she’s amazing”

A confused look spread onto you face as you continued to listen

“Then why can’t you confess to her miles?”

Confess…confess to who?

“I don’t know, I mean we’ve been best friends for forever…I don’t wanna ruin things…”

W-was he talking about you?

“If shes a True Friend like you say she is, then she’ll hear you out-”

And suddenly it went quiet

“I got to go miles, Peter needs me back at his”

Then the window was shut

And that’s when you decided you would enter…

“Miles we need to tal-” You froze, there miles was, standing on his ceiling in what looked like a spiderman suit

“[___] I can explain!”

You watched in horror as your best friend jumped from his ceiling to his floor in a matter of seconds

“WHATS THERE TO EXPLAIN MILES??” You were livid, how could he keep something like this from you?

“Uhm im Spiderman….”

You stared at him a furious expression plastered on your face

“WELL I KNOW THAT NOW…”

Miles visibly cringed hearing you yell at him

“[___] Please calm down!, my moms gonna think something’s up!”

You glared at him

And then you put two and two together

“Miles…”

He looked at you, a soft smile forming onto his face

“Yea?”

“Gwen knows…doesn’t she?”

You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth

“She was the first person to know”

And you felt your heart shatter even more..

“Alright..yea, no that’s-it’s fine” You hurriedly turned to leave as tears threatened to spill down your face

“[___] don’t be like that, please amor” You felt his hand grab your wrist, and for the first time in weeks…you felt his skin…

And god everything was telling you to turn around and forgive him..

“D-don’t call me that miles”

But you didn’t… instead you ripped your wrist away from his grasp as you glared at him

Miles heart broke seeing your cold gaze…

And then something caught his eye.

“[___] w-whats that?”

You froze, he was never meant to see the envelope..especially not after what just happened

“It’s nothing”

You hurriedly tried to hide it, but you were too late

“Mi Vida, please!” He desperately pleaded

And you froze, the nickname you had came to love was now being used against you to get you to respond… and so you did

“Fine, you wanna know what it is so bad?!”

He anxiously nodded his head

“It’s a dumb letter..” You looked anywhere but him, not trying to see his face after what you where about to say

“I’ve been trying to confess to you for years miles…” your voice soft as you thought about all the times you wanted to tell him you loved him

“But you never got the hint…s-so I thought I’d write you a letter”

You finally held up the red and black envelope.

you watched as he took it from your hands, his gaze fixated on the little hearts and sunflowers that decorated the front

“Amor, I’m sorry, if I had known I would’ve made time for you I promise!”

You scoffed

“Miles cut the bull!”

He stared at you confused

“You would have Never, made time for me, and…I know that know”

He shook his head no, his mouth opening to speak…

But no words came out

And so you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes before looking at him

Nothing was said as you turned to leave…

And nothing was said as you did

Miles laid awake that night.

he couldn’t sleep, not after what you told him all those hours ago

Earlier…

Rio had saw how you left, tears streaming down your face as broken sobs left your mouth

She immediately went to go check on miles and what she saw broke her heart even more…

Miles was on the floor, pictures of you and him scattered around him as he himself let out broken sobs

Present

Miles couldn’t believe what you had told him

You had liked him for years…and he was so dense that he couldn’t realize it

And now it was too late…

He had lost you

God, if only he had payed more attention to you then maybe he would of gotten the letter sooner

Wait…

The letter..

THE LETTER!

Miles was quick to jump up and find the envelope

He looked around his already messy room until the red and plack cover caught his eye

Quickly he picked it up and opened it

His eyes welded up with tears as he read what you had wanted to tell him for years…

——————————————————

To mi corazón,

As I’m writing this I realize how corny it is.

I mean this isn’t a movie, but I just thought that making this would help me get of few things off my chest…

So here I go

Miles..

You don’t know how much you mean to me, when we first met I thought you were this shy nerdy little boy, But as we matured I came to realize that you were much much more.

You’re caring, and compassionate,

You’re not afraid to help someone in need,

You’re smart and funny,

You’re everything anyone could ever want…

So as I sit here writing this, I think…

I think about how we met.

I think about how we begged our families to live next to each other.

I think about our movie nights.

I think about our first day in elementary together.

I think about how our moms used to match us up in the same outfits.

I think about our first day of Highschool.

I think about how everyone would tell us we were meant for each other.

And I think about how the universe has kept us together…

Miles I was the luckiest girl in the world to meet you.

No matter what…

I won’t ever be mad at you.

I won’t ever not be there for you.

I won’t ever not appreciate you.

And I won’t ever doubt you.

Miles morales you’re the most perfect guy a girl could meet.

All always be your Vida and you, my Corazón

-[___]

Oh! And

P.s -

I love you

——————————————————

“Shit” he cursed whipping the fallen tears from his cheeks

He looked around his room until he spots his suit, he quickly grabbed it slipping the material on as he rushed to the window

Miles needed to talk to you…

🕷️

There you lay, tears streaming down your face as your music blasted through your room.

Your parents had night jobs, so that meant that they would sleep all day and go to work at night, which left little to no time for you…

But you didn’t mind it, you liked being by yourself

You could draw, watch tv, and blast music without any consequences…

Even if someone called the cops you wouldn’t be in trouble

(9 x out of 10 it was mr. Jefferson that came and he would just let you off with a warning)

You were zoned out thinking about everything that happened today,

You found out miles was Spider-Man

You confessed to him

And then you left.

When you had arrived home you went straight to the shower,

After your shower you put your playlist on shuffle and laid in bed

Which is what your still doing

And then..

There was a tap on your window

And another

And another

And then it stopped.

You let out a breath of relief

And then you heard it..

“Amor..”

“Amor, Are You awake?”

Peering over you pillow you came face to face with Spider-Man or now as you know

Miles…

“What’re you doing here miles..or should I say spiderman?”

He let out a soft groan at your tone of voice

“Cmon [___] don’t be like that”

You rolled over, turning away from him

“I read the letter…”

You froze but quickly regained your composure

“Oh goody”

Miles huffed, jumping on your ceiling and crawling over back to face you

“Did you mean it, everything you said…?”

You were quite for a moment, until you opened your eyes to finally face him

“….yea…”

He smiled and it instantly warmed your heart

“Do you forgive me?”

You let out a soft laugh as a smile made its way to your face

“….yea…”

You both went quite just staring at each other

“[___]”

“Yes miles”

“Can we cuddle?”

You let out a snort but quickly shook your head yes

“…..yes miles..”

He crawled(literally)into your bed wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you flush to his body

“Oh and Ps”

He mumbled into your neck

“I love You too”

BONUS

“You’re so corny Miles”

You let out a laugh as he quickly spoke up

“You started it!”

“….Nuh uh”

“[___]!!”

“BOTH OF YOU GO TO SLEEP”

You and miles stared at each other with shocked expressions

You looked up catching Gwen in her spider suit

“GWEN???”

“WAIT, GWEN??”

She waved before leaving

[miceonpluto]

Anomaly 888

Part 1 Part 2

Next part is finally out!! Biggest thank you to my best friend and editor Leeks, this fic wouldn’t be nearly as good without her help🫶🏾Little translation not for characterization purposes, “sin duda” in this context means “without a doubt” not “definitely” as google translate will lead you to believe hehe Let me know what you guys think PLEASE feel free to go insane in the comments its so fun. Also let me know if you wanna be on my tag list for this fic!! Okay now enjoy hehe

3.2k words

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

“Miguel don’t you think you went a liiiiiitle too far?” A woman’s voice said from somewhere above you.

“If little anomalía here hadn’t tried to run away I wouldn’t have needed to snatch her like that.” You recognized that voice from earlier. It was the same smooth baritone that taunted you while they took you from your home. His name is Miguel?

“She passed out dude. You could’ve at least tried to explain before you brought her here.” The woman's voice was much closer this time, it sounded as if she were right next to your ear. You groggily opened your eyes and all you saw was red. Where even was here? Your head spun and you groaned as you tried to stand on numb legs, so numb that you had to lean against the wall for support. Once you felt stable enough, you stood up straighter and looked around. A small lady in pink heart glasses and a white trench coat suddenly hovered above your nose, she was so close that you had to cross your eyes to properly look at her. “Oh you’re awake! Hiii~” She chirped. You recoiled and hit the wall behind you and just as quickly as she appeared, she was back outside of the glass.

You hadn’t realized how confining this room was until then, all four walls were so close that you couldn’t fully outstretch your arms in any direction. “Where am I!” You shouted to the two blurry silhouettes that stood behind the red walls. “Jess, she’s awake.” The deep voice you now know belonged to a man named Miguel called out and a third person walked up, now there were two people and…a pixie? All ogling you like you were a caged animal at the zoo. The tallest one walked closer and tapped the glass twice with his knuckles and the frosted glass became transparent. You could see each person clearly, a black woman with a sleek red jacket stood in front of the cell, gently caressing her round stomach. The little pixie with glasses sat on her shoulder with her legs crossed, she tilted her head and smiled at you when she caught your eye. Next to the two of them, was him. His previously red eyes were now brown and looking down at you indifferently. You took note of his large biceps, now feeling a little better about how easy it was for him to take you away. He was wearing a skin tight suit that reminded you of SpiderWoman’s back home, he even had a similar spider stretching across his broad figure, though his design was a bit different. He had his hands on his hips and quirked his brow when you furrowed your own and shouted at him.

“Who the hell are you!? How’d you get in my room?! Why were you going through my stuff?! You abducted me!” You felt your blood boil as you got more and more angry at the absurdity of the situation. You glared at him and his slightly irritated stare only angered you more. “Are you done?” He asked, visibly unamused. “I-“ You started to speak again but he cut you off.

“Great. I’m Miguel O’Hara. My accomplice here is Jess,” The dark skinned woman nodded at you.

“The other is Lyla, my artificial intelligence companion.” Miguel continued.

“Awwwww you think I’m your companion?” Lyla crooned.

“Shut it. I’m being professional.” Miguel snapped and Lyla giggled in response. He rolled his eyes and continued.

“I’m only going over this once.” He said and took a deep breath, “You’re in Nueva York in the year 2099, this is my universe. I’m this city’s one and only Spider-Man. You belong to earth888, you’re here because your SpiderWoman reported you as a potential anomaly. There can only be one, and only one spider in each universe and for some reason, yours had two, you being the second. Your very existence could disrupt the canon and cause a multiversal collapse so I took you from your universe.” He rambled off so fast and with so much information it made you lightheaded. Multiverse? What does he mean my SpiderWoman? The audience of three could tell you were dazed by the info dump and Miguel sighed. He pinched his brow and pressed a few buttons on the watch he was wearing and the red walls that surrounded you began to slowly recede into the floor below.

“You just need to see it for yourself.” He said as he reached for your wrist. You jerked it back, “See what? Where are you taking me?” You demanded to know. He grabbed your wrist and slipped a white band on it. “What is this?!”

“A day pass. It’ll keep your atoms from glitching out and killing you.” He sighed as Lyla teased him. “I told you to give her the debrief in her room.” She hovered over to him and poked his cheek.

That reminded you, “Hey! How’d you get in my room?!”

“I followed you.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Your spider led you to me.”

“She…” You hesitated, “She wouldn’t do that! If you really are from another universe, how’d you get into mine?”

“With this.” Miguel held up his watch, its little monitor beeped and flashed quietly.

“What is it?”

“None of your business.” He said condescendingly.

“Except for the fact that it is because it’s the entire reason you were able to abduct me and bring me to wherever the hell I am now!” Your voice raised at the end of your sentence.

“All in a day’s work.” He completely blew you off, thwipped a web onto your shoulder and pulled you along with him.

“You don’t have to leash her like a dog Miguel.” Jess scoffed while walking along his other side.

“Maybe if she didn’t yap like one I wouldn’t have to.” He quipped. The four of you walked out of the dim room and down a long hallway. The chatter of many many voices began to get louder the further you walked, the bright light from the end made you squint and you had to blink a few times to adjust to your new surroundings. When they did, you were absolutely floored.

The hallway had opened up to a gigantic building that seemed to go up forever. Hundreds of spider people of every shape and size could be seen in every direction. Some swinging from the support beams, some standing and talking on the walkways that ran along the wall and up towards the ceiling, a lot of them greeted Miguel as you walked past. Other people stopped and stared at you being pulled along behind him, and you suddenly became very aware of how ridiculous you looked being led around like an animal. You quickened your steps so you could stay at Miguel’s side and give the web enough slack to hopefully be hidden. He looked down at you and began to speak. “Everyone here is a spider from their perspective universe. In each universe, they’re the only one. But here…” He stopped and looked around, “here they’re not. They have others like them.” You looked up at him and when his eyes met yours, you could see a glimmer of sadness sparkling somewhere beneath the surface. “I started this organization to unite the multiverses and keep everything in order so when people like you pop up, it’s my job to look into it.”

“But…I was just trying to help.” You said.

He sighed, “We all are.” He held his watch up to a keypad on a large gray door and it beeped and shone green. His voice hardened as he continued, “But that’s not your job.” The doors slowly opened and the four of you stepped inside.

“So I should just let people get robbed? Killed? Even if there’s something I can do to stop it?”

“There’s nothing you could do to stop it anyways. You couldn’t even catch the robber on 64th yesterday.”

“But-Hey! How’d you know about that?!”

Miguel ran his hand down his face. “I was there. Your spider was the robber and the woman she “stole” from was her girlfriend. They picked up her purse right after you left.”

You twiddled your fingers and tried to come up with a good excuse. “Well at least I got her purse. And the robber was…I was just having an off day.” You played with the hem of your sleeve and looked at the ground.

He stepped in front of you and looked at you earnestly. “We can’t afford to have off days.”

You hummed, not sure what to say next. He gently tugged at the web, urging you to follow him to a wall of labeled storage lockers. He stopped at one labeled Anomaly 888. “If you were there when that happened…” you thought out loud, “You stole my suit!”

“I confiscated it.” He said without looking down and typed in the code for the locker. A888. Pretty on the nose. Inside was the duffle bag from the night before, Miguel took it out and handed it to Jess, who had already sat down in front of the many large monitors in the center of the room.

“Run diagnostics on this stuff. Scan every page and have her suit analyzed.” He said while unzipping the bag and pulling your suit out. You were relieved to see it was in perfect condition. Jess nodded and laid your things out on a large table while Lyla began to scan your suit with her phone.

“I have some things to take care of, I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He said and pulled you with him, you took one long, sad look at your suit before the doors shut behind you. You tried to memorize the path you took to get to the office. Left, left, left, then a right. There’s a bathroom, and a restaurant is around the second corner. Your stomach growled. Whatever’s in there smelled so good. “You hungry?” Miguel cocked his head towards the restaurant. “You heard that? Over all these people?” You asked, feeling your face flush.

“I hear everything.” He said with a subtle smile and led you to the menu.

“Hey boss! What’ll it be?” A spiderman in a white suit wearing a chef's hat bounced up to the counter and leaned on the counter.

“Just a coffee for me. And whatever she wants.” Miguel said, gesturing to you.

“Ooooh~ who’s the lady? I haven’t seen her around here before.” The chef sang.

“Oh! I’m-“ you started to introduce yourself but Miguel cut you off.

“She’s not staying.”

The chef seemed to get the memo and asked “Well Miss Not Staying, what can I getcha?” He asked with a wink.

“I’ll just have a turkey sandwich please.” The chef disappeared into the kitchen and came back with your orders surprisingly quick. You and Miguel thanked him and continued on your way to the office.

Right, left, right. He led you through two intricately carved metal doors and flipped a switch when they closed behind you. Evening light flooded the room as the large window blinds rolled themselves up. His office was gorgeously furnished, bookshelves lined three of the walls, all completely stacked with stacks of books, papers, magazines, notebooks, and various other trinkets. Huge potted plants lined the perimeter of a cozy looking blue couch that sat up against the other free wall. Above the couch were various picture frames, filled with what looked like children’s drawings. A grand mahogany desk and plush arm chair sat in the middle of the room on top of an extravagant rug. The desk itself was pretty bare, save for a single picture frame and a long rectangle that ran horizontally along the far side of the desks perimeter. “This is beautiful.” You said breathlessly. “Infinite universes, infinite spidermen, one of them is bound to be an interior designer.” He said and sipped his coffee. You began to walk towards the couch but you stepped on a little toy car and fell backwards. Miguel pulled the web on your shoulder up and set you back on your feet. “Thanks.” You exhaled. He hummed in response. You looked down and carefully tiptoed over colorful blocks and little dolls strewn about the floor. You sat in the middle of the couch while Miguel got settled in at his desk. “Do you have kids?” He froze and looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. Grief? Anger maybe? “What?” He asked with an edge that made you uneasy. “I just assumed…because of the toys on the floor and stuff.” You said, almost apologetically.

“Oh.” He said flatly and peered down at the toys. “Those are Mayday’s toys. Peter B’s daughter.”

You nodded your head and looked around the room awkwardly while taking the occasional bite of your sandwich.

He pressed a button on the desk rectangle and a large floating screen hummed to life above a keyboard that was being projected onto the wood. He began typing furiously and you sank further into the couch as boredom began to set in. “Why am I even here?”

He glanced at you briefly then diverted his attention back to the screen. “Would you rather be back in solitary?” You shook your head. “Then cállate. Stop complaining.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I can't let you out of my sight until I figure out what to do with you.”

“So I have to sit here and wait for you to be finished?”

“Dios mío!“ He snatched a random book off of the shelf next to you and plopped it in your lap.

An Extensive History of the Discovery and Exploration of the Multiverse. You flipped through the thick book and scanned the tiny words. It could have been an interesting read if it wasn’t full of scientific words that hadn’t yet been invented in your timeline. You tried to lay on your side to get more comfortable, but the web connecting you and Miguel tugged his hand down. “Sorry.” You muttered as he scowled at you and snapped the string off of him.

Soon the sun had fully set and the bright lights of the city illuminated the office. You’d pretended to be sleep for the past hour, you kept your breathing steady and occasionally peaked to see if he was getting tired too. You could tell Miguel was trying to fight off sleep by the drowsy droop of his eyes and hunch of his back. He yawned and his sharp canines gleamed. Your breath hitched at the sight of them and you tried to keep your breathing consistent. That quick glimpse of his fangs reminded you what could go wrong if you messed this up. He shut off his computer and placed the picture frame on his desk face down. “Buenas noches mi chiquita.” He said softly. Who was he talking to? You wondered, but caught yourself before you let your mind wander any further. You needed to focus. You kept your eyes closed and waited until his breathing had leveled out to open them again. When it did, you peered over at him. His arms were crossed and he was leaned back comfortably in his chair. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you had worked up the courage to slowly stand up and wrap Miguel’s discarded web around your wrist so it wouldn’t drag along the floor behind you. You tip toed your way towards the door, making sure to not to disturb any of the toys that tripped you earlier.

You held your breath as you cracked open the office door painstakingly slowly and slipped out as soon as the gap was big enough for you to do so. You closed it behind you and as soon as it clicked shut, you took off. The compound was eerily still and quiet, the lively atmosphere had been drained from the walls and all that was left was the quiet echo of your footsteps and shallow breaths. You passed the restaurant from earlier so you knew you were going in the right direction. You skidded to a stop once you made it to an intersection. You came right left right on the way here so now…you looked down either hallway and bit your lip unsure of which way to go. You shook your head and decided to go left, since you were coming from the opposite direction. “Right then left”, you whispered to yourself when you came upon two more intersections and sprinted through the empty building until you made it back to the familiar storage room doors. “Damn it.” You hissed once you realized you didn’t have a watch to open the doors. Upon closer inspection, you saw one door was left slightly ajar, you tried to get a good grip with your fingertips on the edge and pry it open but to no avail.

There wasn’t enough space for you to get a solid hold on it. You stood there anxiously until you remembered the web wrapped around your wrist. Perfect. You yanked the other end off of your shoulder and slung it onto the door. It stuck! You took a few steps back and pulled as hard as you could. It didn’t budge. You turned around and pulled the string over your shoulder and trudged forward, slowly the door gave way and you internally rejoiced once you finally got it open wide enough for you to get inside. You wrapped the web back around your wrist and felt your way along the wall to find the lockers. There was barely enough light for you to see the labels engraved on them but you eventually found yours. You tapped the keypad and its faint blue light shone bright enough for you to see the letters and numbers on it. A888. You typed in the password and the locker popped open. You reached inside and found the duffle bag. The zipper was way louder than you expected it to be and you winced as it broke the silence. Your suit was neatly folded inside and you quickly put it on and put the straps of the duffle bag on your shoulders as if it were a backpack. Time to go. You weren’t really sure what direction would lead you out and away but you didn’t have time to think about that. You picked a random direction to go and you started swinging across the pillars with your borrowed web.

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

Miguel opened one eye and scanned the room. You were gone. “Lyla.” He whispered. She flickered to life on the desk below and yawned. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Has ev-What? What do you mean, you don’t even sleep? Why the hell are you yawning?” She shrugged, “I like to pretend.”

He rolled his eyes. “Has everyone evacuated?” Lyla scrolled through her phone and gave him a thumbs up.

“Activate discrete lockdown.”

“Done.” She said as she followed him across the room. “Are you sure you can catch her? You’ve given her quite the head start.”

Miguel cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as he stepped out of the office.

“Sin duda.”

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

Thanks again for reading!!

Tag list @mynameiswilliamblake

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 05 | Jake Seresin

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Jake and Flora with “Trick or treat?” “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.” from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1.4k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: extreme fluff, Jake being a sweetheart, lots of kissing

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

05. “Trick or treat?” “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.”

“A little to the left… no, right. Left. Right. Don’t you know how to center something, Jake?!”

The blonde man turns on the ladder, eyebrows raised in amusement. “It is centered, Flora. You’re just standing at an angle.”

Her heart drops as she looks around, realizing she is off-center. A couple scoots to the left tells her that Jake does have the wreath perfectly centered on the balcony.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as she rubs at her eyes. Flora knows she’s being ridiculous, putting way too much effort into decorating for the shop-or-treat the business of Madison Ave are hosting during the fall block party. Staying open later than usual to hand out candy to costumed children while their parents patronize the shops.

She’s trying her hardest to appeal to kids so they’ll drag their parents inside. A florist isn’t exciting to little ones, not when there’s a bakery three doors down and a comic book store across the street. So the décor - a strategic blend of fall and Halloween - is going to be doing the heavy lifting to get people to stay for longer than it takes to put a Snickers in a pumpkin bucket.

Jake climbs down the ladder after securing the wreath in place, wrapping his arms around Flora and pulling her into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes again, her face pressed against his strong chest.

“It’s okay.” He reassures her, his warm hands rubbing her back. “I know you’re stressed, but you don’t have to worry about Studio Cacti taking over.”

Studio Cacti. Another florist shop that opened up over the summer only two blocks away. Owned by some snobby girl who was paying the bills with Daddy’s money. Flora felt hypocritical saying that, considering how she paid for the shop’s remodel and the new flower cooler, but she had started all on her own. Scrimping and saving, pouring every available cent into her shop. During that first year, she had even slept on an air mattress in her office, unable to afford the store mortgage and her apartment rent at the same time.

“Yes, I do, Jake. She’s got more money at her disposal than I’ll make in my entire life. When push comes to shove, she’ll win because she can afford it.”

“Trust me, I have a few ideas, and if I can get everything into place, you’ll be the most successful florist in the city, maybe even the county.”

Flora pulls away, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stares at Jake. The smug look on his face should make her wary - should turn her off - but it doesn’t. It makes her feel giddy whenever she sees it; she’s pretty sure he Pavloved her with his bright smile.

“And am I allowed to know about these plans?”

“Nope, just worry about shop-or-treat for now.”

“It’s my shop, Jacob.”

“God, I love when you call me that.”

“Focus.”

The undignified noise that escapes as he squats down and wraps her legs around his waist makes her cheeks burn. Usually, she hates when men try to pick her up, but she never hates when Jake does it. Flora is taken off guard again when he plops her on the counter next to the register, using the distraction to ignore the voice telling her it’s okay when Jake does it because she likes him.

“I am focused, Phillips. C’mere.”

He kisses her just like he did the first time, like he’s done every time. Gentle at first, simply pressing their lips together as he cups her neck, then he tugs her closer, intensity increasing as he tests the waters to see if she wants to go further.

Normally, she’s all in for a good makeout session, one where his big hands will roam and caress her body in just the right way that will lead to them being naked later on, but tonight, she pulls back.

“Can we do a test run?”

“A test- of what?”

“Of shop-or-treat. You go out and come in pretending to be a kid. Use fresh eyes; look for anything that needs improving.”

“You want me to pretend to be a ten-year-old boy?”

“It should be easy; that’s how mature you are.” She regrets the snipe as soon as it leaves her mouth, Jake immediately attacking her sides. Flora holds out for about five seconds, laughter bubbling out as she gives in. “Uncle! Uncle!”

“I just want to put it on record that I think this is a dumb idea because everything is already great, but I’m doing this anyway. For you.”

She hates the way her heart flutters at his wink. They had agreed to be friends-with-benefits, nothing more. Heart thumping was definitely not within the bounds of their agreement. Maybe it was time to end the arrangement.

The bells ring as Jake walks back in, doing exactly what she asked and interrupting her thoughts. Green eyes big and round as he looks around the store like a kid in a candy shop. His eyebrows furrow slightly at different points in the room, and Flora knows he’s making mental notes on what needs to be changed.

She lets him go on for a few minutes, swinging her legs and admiring how his gray t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. Shoulders that probably still have marks where her nails dug into him a few days ago.

“Aren’t you going to say it?”

“Say what?” He asks as he finishes his examination, standing a few feet in front of her.

“Trick or treat?”

“Well… depends on if you’re the treat or not.” He laughs as she whines his name. “Everything is great. The only thing that’s going to make it better is us finishing what you already had planned.”

“Really?”

“Even the most sticky, snotty-nose brat will want to come into the flower shop with the pretty lady behind the counter.”

Flora’s breath hitches as he crowds into her space, hands tugging her hips closer as their lips meet. She melts into the kiss, sinking her hands into his hair. It’s getting a bit long; he’ll need to get a trim soon so he’s up to regulations, but she loves how it feels between her fingers. He’s the only man she didn’t have to introduce to conditioner, his sisters taking care of that lesson back in high school.

“Excuse me, are you open?”

Her internal debate about whether to hook her legs around him here or pull him up to her office and put the couch to good use is interrupted as they break apart.

“What?” Flora pants, brain still scrambled from how Jake was grabbing at her thighs.

“Are you open?”

“No, ma’am; I’m sorry, we’re not open right now.”

“Oh, that’s too bad! I wanted to get flowers for my daughter, she just gave birth! Lilies are her favorite, and I saw your case through the window. You have the most beautiful options.”

“I’m sorry if you want to come back-”

“Is it your first grandchild?” Jake interrupts, sliding Flora off the counter.

“It is! A little girl!”

“Congratulations!” He smiles, turning to Flora. “Take the sale; I’ll finish decorating.”

A kiss on her forehead, and he’s making his way up the stairs, unraveling leaf garland to wrap around the banister.

She’s only slightly distracted as she puts together a bouquet filled with white lilies, baby’s breath, and eucalyptus for the new grandmother, Jake constantly on her mind. And after cashing out her newest customer and locking the door, Flora makes her way upstairs. Her heart soft as she watches Jake carefully string twinkle lights along the railing he just finished decorating, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin'?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” His pretty green eyes blink up at her in confusion, and she realizes she’s not quite sure how to answer.

Thank you for helping decorate.

Thank you for understanding about how much I work.

Thank you for accepting that I can only do friends-with-benefits with you.

“Just… for everything.”

“Of course, whatever you need, Flora. You know that.”

She feels herself weakening as he stands up and saunters over to her, his smile so big that his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. This time, Flora doesn’t make a noise when he lifts her; just wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. The two of them giggling when Jake drops her onto the couch and climbs on top of her, hooking her legs over his hips.

The decorating is so not getting finished tonight… oh well.

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[faroreskiss]

The Power of Understanding / Part 7 (v2)

Revised/rewritten v2 posted on: 2023/09/10

Read on Ao3

Cheat Sheet

Chapters: Part 6, Part 8

Now we introduce the REAL Hylian!

What is this?: Random snippets of adventure of Translator!Reader and Linked Universe. Summary: You have been with the Chain for a while now, as their "scholar" and translator. You know everything about them, because you are from our world. But do they know the truth about how you can understand everyone? Warnings: You will be uncomfortable. You will see things that look like gibberish. That's "Modern Hylian"! Based on the grammar book here. If you are interested in what they said... Well, stay tuned ;) Some cussing. Actual depiction of a panic attack. Points of interest: This is your thing if you are into the mystery of chain being able to talk to each other, or if you are interested in seeing some Hylian. I am an actual trained linguist IRL, hence this HAD to be written!

In this chapter: The morning after. There is trouble in paradise. On top of that, suddenly everything becomes gibberish once again, just like the moment you dropped into the world of Hyrule for the first time, two years ago.

_________________

You opened your eyes once again, this time to a bright morning. Link wasn't there with you in the bed roll anymore. You guessed he was a bit embarrassed, you thought to yourself, and he got up earlier than others. As the sunlight was kissing your cheeks, you were feeling refreshed, rested. You were feeling suspiciously optimistic.

Maybe today wasn't going to be a bad day after all! Maybe you could ignore the fact that once again you were thrown off into a random world. At least this time you had Link with you, and you could always talk to him.

...and also cuddle him.

You could already smell the breakfast, you stood up in the bedroll, slowly stretching and yawning. You saw other Links were also in the process of tidying their stuff up.

You made eye contact with the teenager for a moment, he had a friendly grin on his face.

"Good morning!" you told nobody in particular, then Wild looked at you with a puzzled yet gentle smile. It was just English after all.

Then you said good morning to him again in the language you both spoke, but he just raised an eyebrow.

"Hirelo kekur!" shouted the teenager (Sailor was what they were calling him). You also saw Link’s ears perk up, all the other Links replied to him as well, with something similar. It wasn't hard to guess what it meant. But, YOUR Link also replied.

Huh? What? Now that didn't sound like ANYTHING you have heard before. Only vaguely familiar.

Sailor put his hands to his waist, made an exaggerated gesture of smelling motion towards Link and his makeshift cooking pot, in a pleasant way and said something else. Link just nodded, said another word and let out a chuckle.

Now, the Sailor seemed surprised. He just pointed a finger towards him and said

"Hi ga tueyul tina Holaya toyul, kane?!"

"Hey, ti klietin sin!" Link replied. Now all the other Links seemed interested in the conversation. They kept saying things to each other.

You? You had no idea. This was scary. Nothing they said made sense to you. Twilight must have noticed your expression of pure terror, because you locked eyes for a moment. You had now the glimmer of hope, he understood you last night, right?

"Hey wolf guy, good morning to you too" you said to him.

The rest of the group was stunned. Twilight's eyes were wide. Well, maybe it was a secret? Oops? Then you realized that wasn't even the least of your worries...

The Old Man, after rolling his bedroll back to his backpack, signed towards you.

"Radi ni? Ni tueyil ken tin sueriy."

Oh no. Oh no. OH NO. They didn't understand SHIT.

Hyrule replied to him, "Ti ga riebun, red maden, ti ga klietin nio."

"Kan? Lami ni tueyil ker?" Twilight also looked confused, and this question was more directed towards Wild, who at this point, stopped stirring whatever soup he was making.

"Layi?" said Sky.

You were already standing up, moving towards him. You spoke the language you used to speak with him, you know, until last night. However, the words were so hard to pull up from your brain, they weren't flowing anymore. It sounded so ridiculous coming out from your mouth.

"Link? What's going on? You understand them now?" you spoke with a desperate tone, in a language that probably did not exist anymore. You were almost pleading.

He was silent. Then he opened his mouth, the words flew, and as the words flew, you felt as if somebody was making you participate in the ice bucket challenge without your consent.

"Kane.. kon..." he was saying.

"Kan gonen…" Link with the red tunic (Vet, they called him?) said from behind, witnessing the whole thing.

Link, your Link. He had no idea what you said. He was supposed to be your anchor in this shitshow. After all these years, do you really need to start over? Wasn't it enough to suffer the language barrier once already, after being thrown into a strange world not once, but twice? You missed everyone, but you were just starting to accept your reality. Why you? Why was it you?

And then, without any warning, you started to shiver, even though the weather was warm. You moved back toward the bed roll, wrapping yourself into the blanket, sitting on the floor, shaking.

Your breathing started to quicken, your chest tightened, and an impending sense of doom surrounded you. Your heart was beating so fast, it was about to jump out of your chest. Your chest was hurting as if an elephant sat on it. You struggled to grasp onto anything stable. You were hyperventilating.

This was a panic attack.

Link noticed what was happening to you right away, ran towards you and got your hands. He just started to take breaths in front of you, trying to look into your eyes.

"Ti sir," he said softly, as he took a deep breath.

You tried to follow suit. That's what you did to him when it happened. Held his hands, sat in front of him, and gestured to him to breathe together. He was just doing the same.

"Lum..." another one.

"Sum..." another one.

"Tum..." and another one.

He was counting. You would always count to three.

You just counted with him, until you started to calm down. Slowly.

_______

As you were walking through the woods, you assumed you already lost some time to whatever schedule they set, as they were talking, no, arguing intensely about something. Specifically Rulie and Time (you dubbed the OoT Link as such). They were also sometimes looking at your way.

"Tin luekom tim tia loyen," Twilight said decisively. The Old Man wasn't protesting either.

Link wasn't leaving your side, at any case. You wanted to tell him that it's okay now, no need to treat you like a princess. You just wanted to be treated normally. Though you were about to die in the well of embarrassment after what you pulled in front of the legendary heroes.

"Woah, mijero" said the Sailor looking at you, suddenly appearing from the side. By the Goddesses, the Links were already so short, a teenager felt like a little gnome. Didn't even want to mention Four (you were tempted to call him Mini, but thought better of it, even if only in your mind)...

You were around 1.65 cm (5'4 for my American readers), which already made you taller than Link. Sure, except Wind (the Sailor), these were adult men, but you pretty much felt like a giant. Only Time, Twilight and the Captain were around your height and maybe a bit taller, and they were mature adults.

So you just assumed Wind was acting surprised. You just chuckled at him. Or maybe your ears?

He pulled your hand and pointed towards the single cloud in the sky.

"Vuleh," he said, pointing at it. again.

"Cloud?" you said, trying to make the shape of it with your hands.

"Layi! Vuleh!"

You smiled and tried to say the word yourself.

"Vu-leh." what an awkward word it was. You liked it.

He made sure to make you repeat it five more times.

The little rascal was trying to distract you by teaching you words. You felt fuzzy inside. Link just chuckled, he also seemed to have agreed that this was a great idea. You continued the little game for a while.

You saw a little butterfly nearby.

"Butterfly!" you beamed.

"Kywag!" this time, Four said back. Seemed like he was watching.

And the excruciatingly tiring walk continued until you reached a place that was oddly familiar to you... You went to a spring, which Vet and Rulie rushed towards for some reason, the Captain screaming something after them and Time just sighing. Twilight followed them with calmer steps instead. He had a nostalgic look on his face. It looked like he was paying his respects to it.

Oh, of course. This was the Ordon Spring.

You were going to Ordon Village.

[weirdoldstans]

(I hope this is sorta what you meant! 🥰🥰🥰)

Stanford Pines was many things. He was a genius, a polydactyly, a scientist, a loner, perhaps a touch prideful, and yes, maybe even a bit arrogant.

But the thing he wasn't was a baby! He was a grown man nearing his fifties for goodness sakes! He'd been through hell and back, and fought just as hard to keep his sanity.

After the last dimension where he found baby versions of everyone he knew, he didn't expect the next one to assume he was the baby!

From the moment he landed his multiverse jump the aliens of this dimension pounced, corralling him as he wandered the streets, looking for anywhere he could hide.

The universal translator in his ear buzzed to life as they spoke.

“Oh, look at the little baby!”

Baby? Where?

“Where's his mama or daddy? Is he all alone?”

Surely they didn't think he was the baby?!

Indeed they did. One picked him up by the back of his coat like one would pick up an errant cat, watching as he squirmed in fear. What was worse is he'd drunk so much water from his last bounce through dimension H2O-44, the water dimension.

Another alien pressed an appendage to his stomach and pushed lightly, making his full and weak old man bladder release some of its contents. And well, once the flood gates opened, all of it came out.

Effectively the alien made him piss himself. A furious blush crossed his face as he wriggled and fought to be put down, begging for one of them to understand him. That he didn't just make the world's largest wet patch on his pants, he's an adult dammit!

Unfortunately his translator said. “Oh look at that, he wet himself. Poor thing. Maybe we should take him home.”

“We should. His parents should be ashamed, just letting him wander the streets all alone with no diaper. Come on sweet thing, let's get you home and into clean clothes and a diaper.”

Ford didn't want to believe it. There was just no earthly way these aliens thought he was a baby…right?

Well, he'd been wrong before, why stop now? The aliens brought him to a quaint living space, filled with all sorts of oddities and ends that he'd love to study, but instead he was carried to a room that could only be described as a nursery.

Everything a baby could want and need sat in this room. From toys of foreign but rather cute creatures, and play sets that Ford admittedly was curious about, to thick diapers that made a weird snuggly feeling bubble in his guts and a crib large enough to fit his full height.

His translator picked up the aliens speaking to each other. “Look at this clothing, and these strange toys he has.” One placed his weapons and clothes to the side.

“And these marks.” The other flipped him every which way looking at all his scars and tattoos. “His parents let him draw all over himself!”

“Oh look darling, he's got extra appendages! How cute!” Well, that was new, someone found his extra fingers cute.

In the end, they padded him up with a stupidly thick diaper, dressed him into a colorful footie pajama set, pushed a pacifier with a clip that attached to a pocket on the front of his clothes into his mouth and mitted up his hands with thick woolen mittens that buckled at the wrist that prevented him from using his full dexterity.

Thankfully, they let him keep his glasses when he whined about them being removed from his face.

He was placed on the floor, next to a set of toys with silly faces on them.

“Now you play here while we get dinner ready.” His new parents said before leaving, shutting the door on their way out. Ford stood the moment they left, wandering around for his old clothes and weapons. He needed to find his jumper and get out of here. Unfortunately the door wouldn't open thanks to the mitts, and the window was too high up, even for him.

He yawned around his pacifier. His adventures were tiring him out. By now, he should be enjoying retirement and going to bed at seven or eight at night, not fighting for his life or in this case, his dignity, everyday.

Still, it was nice to be cared for like this. He didn't get to remember his days as a baby, and had only the vaguest of memories of him and Stanley as toddlers.

He sat down, fighting back another yawn. Goodness, why was he so tired?

Maybe he could just rest here a bit. His new mommy seemed nice, maybe she'd tuck him into bed after dinner. Sliding his glasses from his face, he fell back and sunk into a large stuffed creature, letting his eyes drift closed as his body relaxed.

When he did decide to leave, he'd be sure to pack a bag with some of the diapers, pacifiers, and creams. You know, just in case.

ANONNN THIS IS PERFECT I'M GONNA EAT GLASS

ford getting yoinked like a scruffy cat lmfao...getting manhandled into wetting himself...staying curious abt the new world around him...!!

SO QUICKLY DUBBING THIS STRANGER "MOMMY" AUGHHH...

and OF COURSE planning to take some baby supplies when he leaves "just in case" yeah okay you big baby

I LOVE IT SO MUCH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU

[cidylee]

Welcome to the Future - Kicho x Y/N (Ikémen Sengoku)

Here is my entry for A Series of Firsts hosted by @aquagirl1978. I'm super nervous to post it because it's the first time I'm writing a fanfiction and English is not my first language. Also, I know only a little about Kicho. I've only read a few of his birthday events available on the Enslig server. So, expect it to be out of character.

Prompt: First look

Pairing: Kicho x Y/N (but consider it a self-insert)

Word Count: 1628

There are really few spoilers from his route. I think we all already know where he has been and when.

The story takes place in the present day. A university student travels to Japan for her master degree. She visits Honno-Ji temple. There is a thunderstorm and she finds... a man?

The wind is blowing through my hair, bringing with it a light scent of greenery, reminiscent of the few threes around. I can also smell the scent of wet wood and wet stone. The sky is grey. Not a grey that conveys sadness, just an old plain boring grey, perfect for the boring days.

I’m so stupid. So, so, so stupid. What did I decided to do my master’s degree on Dazai Osamu? I’m studying French literature not Japanese literature. At least, since it’s only a master’s degree, not a doctorate degree, I could write my mémoire based on translations. My university allows it. The thing is, French and Japanese are incredibly different. Reading Osamu Dazai in French is not the same thing as reading him in Japanese. I want to respect the creator’s work, so I told myself I would learn Japanese and visit Japan. Such a good idea. A degree that should take two years to finish has been extended to at least four years. I am already twenty-six-year-old. After my university studies, I’ll need to find a job.

I’m dumb. Even a lifetime won’t be enough to fully understand Osamu Dazai’s work. Will I ever be able to read his novels in their original language? Scrap that. I will never obtain my degree.

I sigh as I walk through Honno-Ji’s main entrance. As an international student, I get to visit a lot of places. I am quite pleased to be able to explore Kyoto. I mean, a trip to Japan is not complete without some sightseeing through Kyoto, right? Though, for some reason, a friend of mine recommended me to go to Honno-Ji temple. It’s not that I lack culture, but... I didn’t know what that temple was. I never saw it passed on travel guide. Oda Nobunaga was a name I’ve never heard before. Yet, here I am, about to pay my respect to that guy.

There are few people around. They are talking or looking at their phone. Yeah, nobody cares about Oda Nobunaga.

Suddenly, the surroundings are darkening. Well, I guess it’s going to rain. A lightning tears the sky, creating a root-like pattern. Seconds later, the thunder resonates in the air. The people around are quick to get up from their seat and find shelter under the roofs. Once they are safe from the rain and the thunder, people resume talking and looking at their phone. The storm seems to worsen. Light and electricity are spreading in the sky. Thunder is deafening. I hear a shrill noise in my head, like a powerful ringing. I cover my ears with my hands.

The rain splattering against the ground. The blinding lights. The roaring of the thunder. The heat and the dampness. The tense atmosphere I seem to be the only one feeling. It’s too much. I’m out of breath. My legs are trembling. My heart is about to burst out of my chest. My blood is boiling. I’m about to faint.

The next moment, a lightning strikes the memorial. The ground vibrates under my feet, and I collapse. All eyes are converging where the lightning struck. There, I see a man, lying down. What the… What is he doing?

People around are screaming, pointing at his direction, but nobody goes to help him. I understand. Even if I could move, I wouldn’t risk my life.

Soon, there is no more lightning and thunder. After a while, the sky is clearing up and I can see the sun above. The few people disperse, and I find myself alone in Honno-Ji memorial with a man only meters away. Is he unconscious? He didn’t run away when the storm was raging. I… I don’t want. I don’t want to go look after him, ask him if he’s fine, if he needs some help… I’m not good at that.

Despite my reluctance, I find the courage to look after him. I get up while holding myself against the wall, then walk in direction of the man, my heart still beating fast. Cautious, I lean over him. The man is soaked. His eyes are close, but his chest is slowly rising and falling. He wears a kimono, way too open in the chest area. His black hair falls on his face. He is unconscious, yet he looks irritated.

OK, time to wake him up. I kneel next to him and shake his body. Soon enough, his eyes flutter open. Well, that was easy. It means he is not seriously injured. The man stares at me with green orbs. I can’t help but notice the bags under his eyes. They give him an annoyed look. He’s still quite attractive. His jaw is sharp, his neck long and he possesses an elegant flair to him. I don’t think I’ve met a guy as handsome as him before. Now, what do I do?

"Hello?" I said in a broken Japanese. "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

The man stares at me, confused and more irritated. That’s it. He didn’t understand a word I said. I try again:

"Are you hurt somewhere? What is your name? Should I take you to the hospital?

The man stares at me for a while, and I feel more nervous. He scoffs at me and says something. What… what it is? That’s… I understood nothing. I look at his clothes again. He wears a kimono and the way he is speaking is weird, it is not the Japanese I usually hear on the streets. We are in a temple. The man is handsome… He must be an actor acting the role of a Japanese of the ancient times! He is certainly taking his role seriously. If I were him, I would’ve break character the moment the thunderstorm started. He even kept acting when I woke him up. That’s what I call talent and dedication.

"You’re an actor, right? You’re good, but I don’t think you need to keep acting. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can you, maybe, answer me in modern Japanese? Please? If you tell me you are alright, I promise to let you alone."

The man scoffs again. He is talking again and… something mysterious happens. I hear him talking to me in Japanese, yet I understand him as if he were speaking to me in my native language.

"Your Japanese is horrible to the ears." He smirks, and I hate him. He’s not wrong, though. "You’re not from here."

"Of course, I’m not from here! It’s written all over my face and body. Do I look Japanese to you? Arg… Anyway, are you not supposed to be an actor for the Honno-Ji temple? If so, shouldn’t you be a bit nicer to the visitors? I was worried about you!"

The man’s gaze darkens. He is not smiling anymore. He scans the surroundings, and he looks confused. "An actor?" he repeats.

"Come on! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m not dumb to the point of not knowing there was some sort of actors back in… the old days."

He frowns. "Where are we? What is this place? It’s terrible. Whatever you are wearing is distasteful for a woman… or just any human being."

Geez… That man is something else. "We are at Honno-Ji temple, where Oda Nobunaga died… hum… many years ago."

The man appears to be even more confused. Then, he puts one hand on my neck and forces me to look at him right in the eyes. The effect is immediate. I lower my gaze to his lips. He seems to notice as he sighs, but he doesn’t comment about it. "You said Oda Nobunaga is dead?"

"Yeah… He died some 450 years ago, or so my friend told me."

The man’s eyes widen. What is going on? My heart’s rate hasn’t slowed down since the end of the thunderstorm. I can only keep staring at his lips, his neck and chest. Did he hit his head that badly? He looks like he really doesn’t know what is going on. I should take him to the hospital.

The man has now a serious expression. "Introduce yourself. What is your name? What year are you born? Where do you come from? What year is it?" His voice is commanding, and I see no problem to answering his questions. "I’m Y/N. I was born in 1992. We are now in 2018. I’m from Canada."

I didn’t think he could look more surprised, yet he seems even more dumbfounded. "Canada?" At the end of the 16th century, Canada had already been discovered for some decades. Either the information had not yet reach Japan at that time, or Japan didn’t know Canada by that name. "It’s a far away land. Now, would you tell me who you are?"

The man answers a few seconds later. "My name is Kicho. I am a vassal of Oda Nobunaga." he murmurs. I nod, then I grab my phone, searching for "Kicho". Oh, OK. That guy definitely hit his head. Kicho is a woman, and she is Nobunaga’s wife. "Sorry, but Internet is telling me Kicho is Nobunaga’s wife. She is also known as Nohime." "Nohime?" repeats the man calling himself Kicho. He then stands up and grabs me by the wrist. I am forced to get up with him. "Y/N, you are coming with me. You will show me around and will explain to me everything about this place, and about Canada too." His gaze is piercing, and I feel compelled to obey, but I am not afraid.

"But first, we need to find you new clothes. You can’t go flashing your tits like that."

Kicho’s eyes widen, then he frowns. "Flashing my what? My… tits?"

[astranauticus]

a handful of chinese songs that give me big robit energy

translating cpop songs is like my second favourite hobby so it's frankly surprising I haven't made this post sooner

Him - Floruitshow (马 - 福禄寿)

I've talked about this song on here before but this is the 3.7 song for me

the second chorus is definitely MR-SN but i like to think of the first chorus (Let me take a good look at your visage as we count down the time till the curtains’ close. Forgive me for holding back my voice so soon, do you know, in your graceful escape, all I see around me is disaster?) as VR-LA during the flashback sequence

specifically 'all I see around me is disaster' because yeah not wrong

'This time I’m not here to bring you home' just kills me like the please please take care of yourself because I can't be there with you anymore of it all

'Oh spring, oh warm sun, please come sooner, grant him a smooth and safe journey' same point, just the desperate plea for the universe to protect VR-LA because he can't do it himself anymore

How can I make you stay - Floruitshow (我用什么把你留住 - 福禄寿)

(conveniently I have actually done a full translation of this song!)

definitely one of the Maxim songs of all time

"You’ve believed that you can let your life pass in numbness, but [...] why do your tears fall in the moment of letting go?' YEAH because we've seen so many times how Maxim keeps trying to convince himself that he can stop just caring but it never works

'You say don’t fall in love, yet you’re unwilling to let go' same point, this man is in such denial about how he just can't stop caring

specifically the second verse feels a lot like Maxim waiting for VR-LA to return from Tu'narath

'You stay silent, holding onto starlight as you wait through your darkest hour. Your mind is struck, when familiar murmurs pierce your ears once more' aaaAAAAHH

the bridge (?) as a conversation between VR-LA and Maxim, VR-LA inviting Maxim to see the beauty and wonders of the world ('Do you want to see the sea of flowers blooming?', very 4.5 wedding invite honestly) but Maxim's trauma just would not allow him to take that risk ('If none of them come back, then who should I live for?')

fun fact the second version of the bridge in my translation ('You must stay to see the flowers bloom' onwards) is exclusive to that live performance of the song so it's not in the spotify version i linked here. as for which version you think fits Maxim more.. well.

Borrow - Mao Buyi (借 - 毛不易)

finally banging out a translation for this song was kinda the inspiration for me to make this post actually

the tldr of this song is that it's an unnamed/unidentified speaker asking to borrow various small things for the sake of somebody else (like 'an inch of frozen sunlight' to provide warmth in a cold world) so you can probably see where i'm going with this

'A simple ‘we have plenty of time’ etched into the soul to prepare for the chance of forced separation' ouch ow okay

'Those blown apart by these winds will say that they never loved deeply' / 'There is a sincerity that cannot be blown apart by this wind' DX-TR betraying the old crew vs VR-LA fighting through so much just to get them back

'There are tears that cannot be washed away by this rain' this line just haunts me. like in general

'An acre of land for him to call home, an ordinary life for him to live' as MR-SN watching over the old crew like I can't be there for you but I hope you will find peace and a home...

[deepspacedukat]

Thank you and I probably will I know I’m not there in the series yet I’m just on book one but I looked at the character bio’s and 😂 Azriel is probably gonna be my favorite.

Also Avarak is fiiine so there’s no problem 😂 I was thinking about pre-reform but then I thought of him being brought back to present time like deep space nine time and the only person who can get him to be reasonable is the reader. He doesn’t want to get a check up by the medical officers and she crosses her arms and taps her foot at him so her and Avarak end up in a stare off until she sighs and says she just wants to make sure he is healthy because she cares so he scowls but allows the medic to come close briefly. Then he doesn’t want anything on him much less a universal translator implant behind his ear and when logic doesn’t work to convince him and decides he won’t even listen when it’s mentioned she decides to find other ways to convince him like during sex in the middle of whispering something into his ear she will switch to English and if he wants to know what she said then maybe he should consider a translator. Not to mention the conflict with modern Vulcans he understands some logic like in strategy but where’s the passion, Vulcans (are to him) were warriors they’ve forgotten who they were. He also doesn’t like how pushy they are about their beliefs or the concept for him that they hide behind a mask of neutrality. Modern Vulcans trying to force him to be what they want him to be honestly reminds him of rich patrons trying to buy him especially politically in the coliseum.

He was fine with romulans only briefly but now says “they are akin to Le-matya slinking through the tall grass-” (I headcanon that Le-matya will mimic sounds like tigers mimic the sound of deer, monkeys, cows, and babies to lure in prey) “-you may think you hear a friend but it’s the sound of your imminent death”. While I think pre-reform Vulcans like modern romulans are sneaky and treacherous I feel pre-reform Vulcan had like some sort of code of honor it left no room for mercy and allowed brutality but there were certain things you just didn’t do like go out of your way to actively frame someone, if you wanted them gone you simply killed them or exposed their schemes.

Hilariously enough I feel like Avarak would like Klingons and Andorians the best but only certain ones like Martok or Shran.

Avarak tolerates humans at best and in some ways they remind him of Vulcans but his respect is hard earned through feats. He does have a few humans that have earned his respect like Sisko, his human, and O’Brian. However he loves his human who he is convinced is the best of them all. She makes him soft but he won’t admit it, he has a reputation to uphold.

Respects the jemhadar a good deal at first but pities them the more over all when he learns of their origins.

-AzoraStarr

P.s. oooh food for thought how would Jorik (I spelled that right? Sorry if not) react to Avarak?

Honestly...Azriel is amazing. I adore him. 🖤🦇

Ooooooohh, I'd love to see him on DS9! That would be such a good chance for intriging interactions. Just yes. All of that, yes. Especially the One Human who could get him to do what she wanted. 💖

Oh, the Le-matya comparison in so interesting! From a Vulcan's perspective that probably is what a Romulan would seem like.

Avarak just...yes. I love him. Very much. 1000/10 would snuggle just to hear him purr. (Yes, I firmly believe Vulcans/Romulans purr when they're content and I will hear no arguments.)

Omg I think Jorik would be really intrigued by him, both scientifically and personally. He'd definitely want to get to know him...perhaps ask him questions and gauge his reactions to emotional-inducing stimuli... Also, since Jorik is a short mans, he'd be constantly looking up at him both impressed and intimidated. (In a good way, of course.)

[nightsidewrestling]

D.U.D.E Part 11 - Stay (set in 2020)

Note: This is set in a universe where Men VS Women / Intergender matches can happen.

Chapter 1: here Chapter 2: here Chapter 3: here Chapter 4: here Chapter 5: here Chapter 6: here Chapter 7: here Chapter 8: here Chapter 9: here Chapter 10: here

Tags: @piratewithvigor @tantamount-treason @thedollmaker16 @janetreader

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places (those chapters will be marked as 'Mature / sexual content' just to be safe). Please inform me if you wish to be tagged or untagged from posts. If the text is in italics and orange it's Kirby's inner monologue. If the text is coloured but not in italics, it's either dialogue or a P.O.V change (P.O.V changes will be in bold and translated dialogue will appear in square [ ] brackets), Key below. Quick note on Geia's text colour: Yes I do know that as Greed she should be in yellow but I decided to colour the men's dialogue yellow so Geia was changed to be pink like the other women in the story outside of the main 8.

2nd Quick note: Eddie's parents are named (in the story) Ruth & Earl, and his brother is Eric. I have not yet decided on a name for Eddie's sister-in-law.

The Main 8: Damo - Bio. Vi - Bio. Billie - Bio. Geia - Bio. Kirby - Bio. Honey - Bio. Eli - Bio. Sara - Bio.

Gluttony's P.O.V:

Eddie arrangers for them to fly out to Yonkers after Dynamite on Thursday, a red-eye flight followed by a cab trip to his house... Our house, Eddie's home, and God does it ever look like it. Admittedly, Eddie keeps his place clean, it's quite nice for a very blank home.

"Well this is nice, but it's... Eddie, I say this out of the kindness of my heart, you need to add personality." Kirby mumbles.

"I'm hardly ever here, unless I got a girl wit' me... but that's only for, I'm not sayin' that to my wife... you wanna see the bedroom?"

Eddie shows Kirby to the bedroom and she lets out a sigh of relief.

"At least one room has a soul... Admittedly it's the soul of a gigolo, but it's soul nonetheless."

"Did you just call me a gigolo?"

"I highly doubt you bring back models every night."

"I brought you here." He smirks.

"Once again, not a model, too scratched up and scarred to be a model."

Eddie's phone goes off and he leaves Kirby to unpack. Knowing her parents were staying with Eddie's, she takes a moment to breathe, she makes the room feel more homely to her. She goes to look where Eddie went, stopping when she hears his voice.

"Just get ya ass over here and stop playin', how're you supposed to meet my new lady if you act like that, huh? Homicide... Nelson... don't you say that... I'll kick your ass, yeah, I know it's crazy, I love her... she's my fiancée, my soon-to-be-wife, and I adore her. God only knows how long I've been searchin' for a good woman like her... a'ight, see you in a few, bye."

Kirby's breathing catches in her throat, she coughs and Eddie turns to look at her.

"You okay babe?"

"Yeah, I'm fine... one of your friends is called 'Homicide'?"

"He's a wrestler, like you being 'Gluttony'." He shrugs.

"Oh, it's a ring name, I should've guessed... been around too many guys who use real sounding names."

"You finished in there?"

He gestures to the bedroom, distracting Kirby for a moment, as he walks up to her. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her into a deep kiss, slowly making her walk backwards. They only stop when they reach the kitchen counter, Eddie smirks as he pulls away. The smirk is quickly replaced with a look of annoyance when someone knocks at the door.

"Who is it?!" Eddie hollers, protecting Kirby's ears.

"Who the fuck do ya think?!" A man, incredibly similar sounding to Eddie, replies.

"Oh hey, Eric. I'm gonna go let my brother in, you stay here, I love ya."

"He sounds exactly like you." Kirby whispers.

"He is my brother."

Kirby goes to speak, but doesn't out of embarrassment. Eddie lets his brother in, walking back to Kirby and pulling her into a gentle kiss, showing off Kirby to Eric.

"Kirby, Eric. Eric, Kirby." Eddie mutters, gesturing back and forth between the two.

"So, you're the reason, Ma made me buy this," He hands Kirby a white box, "don't worry, it's just cake, it's not gonna kill ya."

"That's very nice of your mother, Edward... I thought we were gonna buy us a cake, no?" Kirby whispers as she opens the fridge, "Why is there only beer in your fridge, Eddie?"

Eric laughs as Eddie struggles to come up with an answer. Kirby just shakes her head softly as she places the cake (still in the box) in the fridge. As she closes the door, Eddie puts his arm around her waist, she kisses him gently.

"What do you do for work, Kirby?"

"I'm a wrestler, but I'm also a video editor, artist, writer, photographer, and I work in talent relations for the C.R.C."

"Wow, you must have a lot on ya plate doin' all that."

"Nah, it's easy for me to just breeze through it all. I'm a workaholic, like my Da. If I'm not doing something, anything really, it makes my mind wander."

"And that's not good?" Eric asks softly.

"No, well... it depends, usually though... yeah, it gets bad," Kirby mumbles, "Especially when my mind goes to, you know, things in my past I could have... I could've done differently, you know."

Eddie tightens his grip on her waist, kissing her jawline, "you're okay, sweetheart." He whispers.

"Now though, I wouldn't change anything about my life, I wouldn't dare risk changing something... I know it sounds cheesy, but I am scared that changing anything, even the tiniest detail, would make me lose Eddie."

"Never, you'd never lose me. I'm stayin' and so are you, together, here in New York or on the road."

"Speakin' of cheesy, Ma's gettin' both you and Kirby both a chopped cheese." Eric murmurs.

Kirby raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Oh Kirby, you are gonna love it," Eddie grins, "It's like the perfect intro to being a New Yorker."

"It sounds nice, but then again so does a kebab... and a pint of Guinness too."

"I'll go get the food, you stay here. I love you, my queen, my angel, my fuckin' babygirl."

Eric groans as he looks away. Eddie smirks, kissing Kirby deeply, backing Kirby against the counter. He sticks his tongue out at her when he pulls away. She smirks and pulls him back into a kiss, he groans against her lips, close enough to feel him get hard. Eric nearly has to drag his brother to their parents.

When Eddie returns, he leaves the bag of food and drinks on the counter, he searches the house for Kirby, eventually finding her in the shower. He undresses and joins her, kissing up her spine, spinning her around and kissing her passionately.

"Hi Eddie, future husband." Kirby purrs against his lips.

"Shh, no words, only moans." Eddie whispers, dropping to his knees and teasing Kirby with his mouth.

After a couple minutes, Eddie shuts the shower off, he hoists her over his shoulder and carries her to their bed. Eddie climbs over Kirby, pinning her hands above her head, grunting as he pounds into her. Fast and rough, making her moan and squirm, every thrust banging the headboard against the wall. Kirby moans his name as she cums, sending Eddie over the edge.

"Fuck, I needed that so badly." Eddie groans as he pulls out.

"That makes two of us." Kirby chuckles breathlessly.

"Stay," he grunts, "I'll get the food."

"Put some underwear on, for all you know, we could have visitors."

"Homicide's seen me naked before, we'll be fine."

"Eddie." Kirby states flatly.

"Oh, you mean your family."

"Yeah, I may like you nude, but what would my Da think if he saw you like this?"

"Kirby?" Eddie murmurs.

"Yes, Eddie?"

"Are your parents cool with me being mixed?"

"Yeah. My whole family is cool with me, and my cousins, marrying other races. One of my cousins, Roderick, is married to this lovely, Afro-American girl from New Orleans... what's her name, Gethsemane." Kirby explains.

"Oh, so you have a couple different races in your family already?"

"Yeah, we don't discriminate, unless you're English... Irish and Welsh history has taught us not to trust them." She shrugs as she gets dressed.

"So why did you trust Damien?" Eddie asks as he gets dressed.

"Same reason I trusted Jimmy Jacobs, and joined the flood, I didn't... I was 'brainwashed' into following their command."

"You were in the flood? That fuckin' scumbag." He growls.

"Eddie, calm," Kirby whispers, stroking Eddie's arm, "breathe, Papi."

"I'm still gonna fuckin' kill him."

"Don't, Eddie, just teach him a lesson, no killing people."

Eddie sighs and nods, going to get the food and two cans of beer, sitting outside on the patio with Kirby. Eddie lights up a cigarette and watches Kirby take the first bite of a chopped cheese.

She moans softly, "this is so fuckin' good." She whispers.

Eddie smiles softly, "you like it?"

"Like is an understatement, I fucking love it. Back home this would be called 'drunk food'... I love kebabs and stuff, a lot of the things people call 'drunk food', I eat fully fuckin' sober."

"You got ya Ice Cube shirt back?"

"Yep, smells like you, your fly's undone."

"Shit." Eddie grumbles, doing up his fly and checking to see if the neighbours saw anything.

"When did Homicide say he'll be here?"

"Soon, around now-ish." He says, right as there's a knock at the door.

"Go let your other best friend in." Kirby teases jokingly.

Eddie kisses her forehead as he goes back inside, coming back with Homicide following him.

"Kirby, Homicide. Homicide, Kirby. We good?"

"Oh, you're Nelson Erazo, I remember you." Kirby murmurs, looking up from her food.

"You're marryin' Eddie, 'The Dragon Princess' of C.R.C? Moxley's 'female Andre'."

"Don't call her that, she's not a female Andre, she's Kirby. My Kirby, her Da's little princess, my future wife."

"Thanks, Eddie... I feel really embarrassed saying this, but are you going to eat that?"

"Not if you want it, take it," Eddie shakes his head, giving Kirby his food, "especially if I hear ya moan again." He smirks.

Homicide chuckles, "Eddie, come on man."

"What's wrong wit' that?" Eddie shrugs, "I didn't say what I was thinkin'."

"What were you thinking?" Kirby raises an eyebrow.

"I'd rather see those pretty lips-"

"Eddie, stop," Homicide groans, "She's a ten time death match champion, not just some piece off ass."

"You two have worked together?" Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah, I went by my name in C.R.C, did their death match tournament a couple of times." Homicide shrugs.

"You nearly won the thing a couple times as well." Kirby smirks.

"I know, only lost because I had to face you."

"Exactly, you don't mess with forces you can't control, like a motherfucking dragon."

"Instead, just let Eddie fuck the dragon."

Kirby groans, "such a lame fucking joke, my man."

"So I'm marryin' C.R.C's 'Dragon Princess'?" Eddie asks.

"Yep... 'Dragon Prince Eddie Kingston'... that actually sounds cool."

"I'll spell it out for ya in simple terms. Ya soon-to-be father-in-law is the 'Dragon King' of C.R.C, each 'boss' of C.R.C is a king. Kirby knows the list better than I do. But, Hywel is the 'Dragon King' because he's a highflyer, he stays in the air and he's fiery, therefore a 'dragon', same applies to Oda and Kirby, Dragon Queen and Dragon Princess." Homicide explains.

"I'll give you the list. Naoise is the Cyhyraeth King, he specialises in both hardcore and brawler styles. Rhodri is the Ogre King, he specialises in grappling. Uinseann is the Clurichaun King, he specialises in both technician and powerhouse styles. Yorath-"

"You have an uncle named 'Yorath'?" Eddie interrupts.

"Yes, moving on. Yorath is the Hunter King, he's a technician. Bran is the Fomorian King, he's a powerhouse. Fergus is the Dullahan King, he's a brawler, and finally, my Da, Hywel is the Dragon King, he, my mother and I are highflyers." Kirby explains.

"It sounds complicated, but it's actually really easy yo go with, it's just how they train people."

"Oh, so I would be the 'Dragon Prince' even though I'm not a highflyer?"

"Yeah, you would." Kirby nods.

"That's all I need to know, sweetheart."

"I got shit to do, so I'll see ya 'round. A'ight?"

"That's alright with me, see ya Homicide."

"Call me if ya need anythin'." Eddie nods, pulling Homicide into a half-hug.

Eddie and Kirby spend the rest of the day, into the early evening, getting Kirby settled into their, now shared, home. Eddie watches as Kirby makes dinner, before raising an eyebrow at her when she puts a bowl in front of him.

"What's this?"

"Tatws Pum Munud, bacon, potatoes, stock, carrots, onions, peas and beef."

"It's Welsh stew?" Eddie asks, looking from the bowl to Kirby.

"Aye lad, warns ya from the inside." Kirby smiles softly.

"I ain't a lad, babe, I'm a grown ass man." He smirks.

"Just eat your fuckin' stew, Kingston." She shakes her head gently.

[zyafics]

i’m breaking my rafe-only content blog for u elle i hope u know how much i love u 🌷🙂‍↕️ ⬇️

“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”

no fr how is he serving face every episode of s2

Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them.

glad to know the universal lack of appreciation for mothers telling u to wear a coat is seen in game of thrones’ dragon fantasy

“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?

do u google translate this or do u know high valyarian (is that how u spell it?)

“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.

baby boy lukie ur aliveee 🥹🥹🥹🌷

“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”

bro what does that mean r u eighteen

Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.

i feel like i’m being introduced like i’m in bridgerton

His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.

bro have u ever had a woman’s touch

The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell.

this man has, in fact, never met a woman

He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled

why r u thinking of other women 🤨

He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing.

“who stuttered around when it came to women” bro ur giving mr darcy energy from pride n prejudice

But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.

yo what did i do

“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”

no i am 20 that’s illegal / no thank u

“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”

👢 👢👢

“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.

it’s like his first crush hehe

“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”

YO-

A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”

omg i’m such a flirt 🙂‍↕️🌷

“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”

they r so brothers-coded we were ROBBED in the show (i haven’t watched a single episode)

“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”

this would’ve started our enemies to lovers storyline 😠

Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”

omg i’m such a flirtttt

“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”

i call bs 😐

Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.

BREECHES TOOK ME OUT 😭😭😭☄️ i’m crying

“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”

oh this line EATS

“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”

damn i am dickmatized

“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.

and he is pussywhipped goodnight 😴

final thoughts — i had so much fun reading this. it’s fun navigating this new fandom even though i know next to nothing except for snippets off of tiktok. also.. the language is so different and i love how u cater ur writing style to the fandom you’re writing in (obx feeling more modern versus this one is more eloquent + medieval). also some of the words choices took me OUT—nothing on ur writing, but because i giggle when i read stuff like breeches hehe (7 year old boy mentally fr). anyways, i love love LOVE the dynamic you’ve written for jace + luke, like that was the spotlight for me. they’re so BROTHERS with that dynamic and it’s devastating we’ll never have that experience in hotd. also. baela who? 🤭

and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v

summary:

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

OR; Jacaerys doesn’t quite know how to behave himself around you

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: 18+, MDI, doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 7,5k words (oh)

author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and Jace🥲 also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!!🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”

Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.

“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”

Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.

“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.

“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?

It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.

“Sȳz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rȳbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.

Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn’t exactly have a dragon pit.

“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.

“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.

“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”

The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.

“It is good to see you, my friend.”

“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.

“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”

“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.

“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”

“I have heard much about you.”

“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”

“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”

Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.

“How old are you, Lucerys?”

“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”

“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”

“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.

“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”

Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.

“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”

“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”

Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.

“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.

Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”

“As do I.”

“Very well.”

Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.

“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.

“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.

“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”

As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.

“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”

Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.

“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.

“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”

That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.

“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”

“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”

Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.

“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”

Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.

“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, *your grace*.”

The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.

“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”

Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.

“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.

“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.

The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.

Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.

He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.

“Did someone catch your eye?”

“What?”

Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.

“I was enjoying the festivities.”

“You’re surely enjoying something.”

“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.

“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”

Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.

“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”

Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.

“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”

The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.

“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.

As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.

Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.

Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.

“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”

Jacaerys let out a small sigh.

“What are you doing here, Luke?”

“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”

“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”

“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”

Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.

“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”

“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.

“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”

“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”

“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.

Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.

The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.

Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.

His interaction with you last night at supper was… Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?

Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.

“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.

“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”

“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.

The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”

“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”

“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”

Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.

“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”

A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”

You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled… Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?

“So... Your grace or my prince?”

For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.

“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around… It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”

“Jacaerys?”

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.

“Or Jace.”

“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”

He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.

“My friends call me that… And people that I’m close with.”

A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”

Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“

“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys….”

Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.

“I hope we can become friends.”

With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.

Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.

“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.

“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”

Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.

“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.

“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”

Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”

Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.

“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”

Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.

“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”

Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.

“Let’s go then.”

The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.

“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.

The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.

Right next to you.

Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.

“My lady.”

“Your grace.”

You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.

"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"

Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.

“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”

“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”

By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.

“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”

“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more… Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.

“And you’re not composed right now?”

“No. You…” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”

He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“How?”

“You vex me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”

“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”

“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”

You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.

For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.

Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.

Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?

Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.

“My lady…”

You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.

“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.

“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”

Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.

You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.

“I can leave, if you wish.”

Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.

Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.

“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”

Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.

“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”

“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.

“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”

“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.

“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little… Hot.”

Oh.

His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.

“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”

Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.

“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Telling.”

Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”

“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”

“Now when you say it like that…” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”

“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.

“Is that not what you told me at supper?”

Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.

“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”

Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.

“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”

“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”

“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”

Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.

“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”

You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long, see through sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.

“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”

Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.

“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”

You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.

“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”

Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay wrong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.

You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against his, the kiss nearly driving him insane.

He needed more.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.

“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”

“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”

Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.

“I am so...?”

“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”

You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.

“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”

He might make an exception for you.

With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.

“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.

“Jace…” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.

He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.

“Jacaerys…” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”

Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.

With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.

“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.

“For a lady like you, without question.”

A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.

He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze… Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.

“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.

“Do you…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.

“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”

As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.

“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.

“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.

If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove your cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.

“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please…”

Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.

Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.

“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”

You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”

Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.

“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”

“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.

“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”

“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”

And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.

And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to.

“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.

“As did I yours.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: hehehehehe did u like it?

[hoonven]

REDAMANCY

655 ⸺ in which you profess your love to a forbidden man

PAIRING! sim jaeyun x female reader

GENRES! fluff, minor angst, princess x royal librarian, forbidden romance, Edgar Allan Poe reference at the end

WARNING! mention of execution

“Redamancy,” Jaeyun says, finally meeting your gaze through his thinly framed specs.

“It's a noun,” he informs with a playful smile. His eyebrows raised for a quick moment before falling back into place, then averting his eyes back to the old burgundy book that lay open on his desk.

You chuckle, your smile stretching further across the plain of your face, lips remaining closed.

“The act of loving the one who loves you,” he reads, “a love returned in full.”

It's tranquil in the ambiance of the royal library, the only sounds that can be heard are your hushed voices and soft laughter reverberating off the stone walls and marble floors.

You can't help but think how you could happily spend the rest of your life in this room with him, hiding away from the rest of the world and basking in the affection of your love for each other.

Jaeyun was the first person in the chapters of all your life with whom you sincerely enjoyed conversation, in the same sensuous way you enjoyed reading a book or roaming the gardens.

He looks up once again and he’s not surprised to find you already looking back at him, for there was never a moment in which you were not adoring him.

“What are you thinking, Princess?” he queries. His elbow propped on the wooden desk as his chin rested in the palm of his hand, his spindly fingers grazing his plump lips.

“You,” you confess, not letting a single second pass, “my mind is consumed by thoughts of you.”

He’s unreadable for a moment but his gaze nor yours ever falters, and then his lips curve into a grin. He chuckles, “I’m honored, Princess.”

He leans in closer, “My heart grows fonder of you with every beautiful smile you grace upon me, my regard for you may be enough to overflow the oceans.”

You lean in closer as does he, your foreheads now meeting in a delicate collision just as your hearts had all those months ago.

Jaeyun brings his hand away from his chin to tuck away a tuft of hair behind your ear, his caress so utterly gentle that you can barely feel it.

The way he handles your body so tenderly and meticulously swells your heart, his every touch zephyr-like as though he’s holding the daintiest flower in all the land.

Your eyes close as do his, and your next words are an act of treason but you would do that for Jaeyun and more, you would do anything for him—with him.

“Let’s run away.”

He chuckles and you can feel his smile through your closed eyes, “I would be executed if we were caught but perhaps I can be convinced.”

You shift your head so the tip of his nose meets the apple of your cheek, “How so?”

“With a kiss.”

His soft lips graze against your own, his small puffs of breath linger into your mouth as yours does to his, and the cold rims of his specs are a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin.

Finally, your lips meet in a forbidden kiss. For a moment everything is still, like a meadow on a clement summer day where the only thing you can hear is the buzzing of bees and the distant chirping of birds from the surrounding trees.

Where the floral scent of wildflowers wafts all around you, where the slightest breeze lingers through the fabric of your dress, cooling your skin from the embrace of the fierce sunlight, that's where you go when Jaeyun kisses you.

And you hope he finds someplace nice when he kisses you too.

You loved with a love that was more than love, you and your Sim Jaeyun. A love that wingèd seraphs of heaven.

A love greater than the monarchy that threatened to keep you apart, a love written in the stars, forever etched into the universe.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform