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semification · 5 months ago

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- DIE WITH A SMILE . . . VERITAS RATIO ✧.*

Veritas comes to realize that he loves you, but perhaps he comes to that realization far too late.

content: fem reader, death, penacony quest spoilers, angst with comfort (?), blood & injuries, veritas is a meanie (but he INSTANTLY regrets it!1!), friends to (grins evilly) …lovers

authors note: first fic on this account i hope you guys like it <3 i ran out of motivation while writing this halfway can u tell. anyways go stream die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga because i was listening to that song on loop while making this fic and i think its a super fitting song for this hehe

wc: 5.9k (its a quick read i promise)

masterlist

“You’re being ridiculous, Veritas.”

Bickering with Dr. Veritas Ratio was not out of the ordinary. In fact, it was a pastime for the two of you, engaging in various academic debates to see which party presented a better argument. It was seen as a great deal of praise to be able to do such a thing with an esteemed man like Veritas. It made it seem like you two stood on the same ground–the same ground of a man who felt so out of reach.

“Oh, really now? I’m the one being ridiculous? I am ‘ridiculous’ simply because I am looking out for your safety, Y/N?”

This… however, this was not normal. This quarrel felt personal, stemming from your feelings instead of facts and objective data. This felt like an attack on your friendship–but from the amount of vile he’s spitting from his mouth, you wonder if Veritas has ever considered you as a friend in the first place.

The more he speaks, the more you are reminded that you didn’t stand on the same ground as him. You felt terrifyingly inferior, and even though he was right in front of you, you felt like you were miles away from him.

“No, I’m saying you’re ridiculous for calling me weak and incapable because apparently, I’m not good enough to go on this expedition when it’s my fucking job.”

However, you mostly felt like a fool.

You felt like such a fool for falling in love with a man like him. You fell in love with him because of his neverending thirst for knowledge. You fell in love with him because you were just as much of a bibliophile as he was. You fell in love with him because you wanted to spread your knowledge around the universe as much as he wished to. You fell in love with him because, for a moment, you thought he saw you differently from everyone else, and that he truly enjoyed being in your presence.

You turn away from him, tears forming in your eyes. You stubbornly blink them away, because you think back to what started this argument in the first place.

You had just finished detailing your mission to Veritas, which was your routine every time the Intelligentsia Guild dispatched you on some kind of research expedition. This mission was different, however. You would be gone for three months, longer than usual–and the mission was very combat-oriented and dangerous, which wasn’t like your usual expeditions. Despite the warnings, you still accepted it, thinking of it as something new, but nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Veritas seemed to think otherwise, however, because when you peer over to look at his reaction, he looked very displeased.

(It wasn’t a very uncommon look to see on his face, but you could tell he seemed more serious–like how the frown lines on his face were deeper than usual.)

You weren’t particularly surprised by the expression on his face. What surprised you the most was the first thing that came out of his mouth after hearing your expedition’s rundown. “Are you sure you’ll be able to go on that mission?”

You look at him incredulously, surprised at the amount of distaste in his voice. His displeasure was directed at… you? “What is that supposed to mean, Veritas?”

“I’m saying that you’re too weak and incapable to go on that expedition, Y/N. I do not know why the Guild would assign you such a difficult mission. They truly are overestimating your power.” The words came out of his mouth so casually, like you had just asked him about the weather. Is this how his students feel when they take his infamous course with a passing rate of a mere three percent? How his students feel whenever they get scolded by him?

You just can’t believe it. He said those words like it were a fact—straight from the myriad of encyclopedias that he’s read. Maybe because it was a fact in his head: he saw you as nothing but “weak” and “incapable”.

A stray tear manages to escape from your eye, and you quickly wipe it away angrily before turning back to Veritas with a sniffle. No. You cannot cry in front of his face. Crying is an expression of weakness–of vulnerability. And what you are trying to prove to Veritas is that you are not “weak”. You are not “incapable” either, and you are going to prove that to him by going on this mission and making him eat his words.

“I will be leaving in three system hours. Do not bother showing up during my departure.”

You cringe at the way your voice shakes at the end, but you stand firm. Those words were the last thing you said to him before leaving his office with a bitter heart. When you exit his room, you finally let your emotions run free, letting the tears stream down your face without end. You quietly sob as you retreat to your own office, closing the door and letting out a shaky exhale, escaping all the nosy whispers and chatter of the Guild members.

You sob at the heartbreaking realization that just when you think you’ve gotten close to the “untouchable” Veritas Ratio, he pushes you away just like how he does to everyone else… because that’s just simply what you are to him.

Another person who fades into the background, and nothing more.

Dr. Veritas Ratio is a man who exhibits prestige and greatness like no other. Throughout his academic career, he obtained eight PhDs and graduated with the First Class Honors Degree, which hadn’t been awarded to anyone for two Amber Eras. He was gifted with knowledge, and now he uses that knowledge and spreads it far across the cosmos to “cure idiocy”, treating it like a disease that needs to be treated.

And yet, for once in his life, he refuses to admit it out loud, but he’s acted like the one thing that he completely loathed. The very thing that he was trying to exterminate.

An idiot. He was an idiot, and it was all because he could not word himself correctly when he spoke to you. He has written hundreds of papers, essays, and dissertations, but time and time again, he could not seem to think—to be able to formulate the proper words to say when it came to you.

And now, Veritas has royally messed up, and for once in life, he has no idea what to do.

He was just genuinely concerned for your safety. It was all he thought about once you had finished detailing your expedition to him. He wanted to convince you—to pick the right words to say so he could persuade you not to go, but it seems that his fear of being seen as vulnerable shone through first. It reminded him of the days when you two weren’t close; the days he spoke to you while wearing his alabaster head.

He only wears that head because he “can’t bear to see idiots,” but given how he just called you “weak” and “incapable” in the argument that just transpired, one could almost laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. Veritas may as well talk to himself while wearing the alabaster head.

Because only idiots would address you with those terms.

You were an enigma to Veritas from the very beginning. People from the Intelligentsia Guild rarely stood out to him, but you were different—sticking out like a sore thumb the moment he laid his eyes on you.

That’s because your presence utterly enchanted him—you had similar tastes in literary works, you matched his sarcasm and topped it off with even wittier replies, and you also wanted to use your knowledge for other people to learn.

You were not weak and incapable. He saw you as anything but that, in fact. He was at fault for the argument, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud, for Aeon’s sake.

He knows that he owes you an apology, it’s the least he could do... He just needs to apologize, then convince you to not go on that expedition. You’re scheduled to leave soon—approximately two and a half system hours—he still has time.

And yet, his mind is being stubborn. He knows that he needs to apologize, but he just can’t bring himself to. He can’t remember the last time he’s genuinely apologized to someone—an apology without a trace of sarcasm at that.

“Trouble in paradise, doctor?”

He could recognize the esteemed gambler’s voice from miles away, and it irks him how he always seemed to show up at the worst times. Aventurine’s got a knowing gaze on him—a stare that can pierce through any poker face so he could see exactly what they’re thinking. “I suggest not meddling in any business that doesn’t concern you, gambler.”

Except he’s already got him. “This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aventurine believes that one’s eyes are the windows to the soul–and he doesn’t miss the way Veritas’ eyes soften when he says your name, smiling at the unintentional answer to his question. He definitely doesn’t have the best poker face in town. For such a stoic man, he surely cannot put himself together when it comes to anything that has to do with you.

Aeons. Just what were you doing to him?

There was no use hiding it from him, so he just silently nodded, with Aventurine clicking his tongue. “Rumors fly fast in the guild, especially when Dr. Ratio’s dear friend Y/N was seen walking out of his office crying. I just had to see what this was really about, you know?”

You were crying when you left?

He doesn’t voice his concern out loud, of course. Instead, Veritas just sighs heavily. “All I wanted to do was convince her to not go on that mission that she’s currently dispatched on. It just seems… far too dangerous.”

Aventurine’s got an idea of what happened next considering how you ran out of this room crying, but he decides to ask anyway. “Oh? And how did that work out for you?”

Veritas refuses to meet his gaze, his heart sinking when he simply thinks about what happened earlier. “…”

“At least humor me, doctor.”

He turns away from Aventurine completely, a deep shade of red coating his cheeks. Was it out of embarrassment? Shame? Whatever it was, he didn’t need him to see it. “…I called her weak and incapable.”

When Aventurine doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Veritas speaks to fill the silence. “I admit, I did not know what was going through my head when I addressed her with those words.”

The uncomfortable silence drags on for a little longer until it’s interrupted by the piercing sound of Aventurine’s laughter. His laugh makes the red spread across Veritas’ cheeks even more—uncharacteristically so, especially since he’s normally so put together. He doesn’t even have the heart to tell Aventurine to stop laughing, because a small huge part of him feels that he deserves this.

He deserves to sit through this feeling because he knows you faced the same humiliation when he shut you out.

“Hahaha! I can’t—“ Aventurine’s nearly keeling over in laughter, and the gambler swears he could feel tears build up in his eyes. “Oh, please! You have such a way with words, don’t you?”

Aventurine continues, failing to conceal his hysteria. “Weak and incapable? If anything, that’ll only fuel the fire. She’d want to go on that mission just to prove you wrong.”

“I’m well aware. It is exactly what happened after all.” You’re leaving soon. The thought of you leaving makes Veritas’ stomach churn, and he has no idea why. Out of all the many expeditions you’ve been sent on, this is the first time he’s felt this way–been filled with so much dread.

“Well,” Aventurine pretends to think for a moment, putting his hand on his chin. “It won’t hurt to sacrifice a little bit of your already enormous ego to apologize to her, no? There’s enough of your pride to go around.”

I don’t know if I can bring myself to.

Veritas doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he masks his worries with a scoff. Aventurine doesn’t have to know. “Watch your mouth, gambler.”

“Oh my, I really struck a nerve there, did I?”

“Researcher Y/N? I’m sorry sir, she just departed a few minutes ago.”

You left.

The three system hours hadn’t even passed yet—there were still two hours before your scheduled departure—and you left early.

You left, and he didn’t even get the opportunity to apologize.

The researcher could only watch as the great Veritas Ratio, normally so composed, looks away from him wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. He’s utterly dumbfounded, a look that is never seen on his face. What is he supposed to do now?

You’re too late.

For the next several weeks, Veritas could only wait anxiously for your return. Worry follows him like a cloud, and even his students pick up on his weird behavior. It’s all so grueling—waiting for you without so much of an idea of how you’re doing or if your expedition is going well.

While waiting for your return, he plans out his actions for the next time he sees you. He doesn’t want to apologize over text–Veritas sees it as inappropriate and prefers to show his sincerity in person. Face-to-face is how he is going to do it, and he sends you a message in preparation for that. “I’d like for us to talk when you’re back. Please message me immediately upon your arrival.”

…Except an error message stares at him back when he presses the send button. It’s almost mocking him in a sense, like the universe is doing everything in its power to prevent him from atoning for his mistakes. Of course you weren’t going to have signal when you’re so far away from him. Just what was he expecting?

You were scheduled to return after another few weeks, and Veritas could only prepare for the days to pass by excruciatingly slowly. Until then, he thinks over what he’s going to say for his apology. Maybe he could give you something too. He thinks that finding a way to get your favorite flowers is a nice start.

You’re tired.

Exhaustion envelops you like a blanket, and after trying your hardest to resist, you just can’t anymore.

You’re so tired.

You finally succumb to the fatigue, falling onto the ground as your sword clatters with a thud. You lay there, lying in a pool of your own blood, accepting that this was the cruel fate that the great Aeons above bestowed upon you in the end. You laugh at the absurdity of it all, but it only comes out as a weak cough, which quickly transitions into a fit of hacking up crimson droplets—lighting your throat on fire.

It was a fragmentum monster ambush. The planet you were exploring contained a lot of them–mainly due to the Stellaron corrosion that it was experiencing. After three weeks of exploring, it was supposed to be just another day of collecting data and extracting information for the guild. You’ve done this countless times already–anything out of the ordinary happening was beyond you.

The ambush had occurred when you least expected it–you barely even had the time to draw out your sword. One thing led to another, and at some point, there were just too many of them that leaving the battle unscathed was out of the question. And at the end of it, you were a mess, standing in a field of bodies with blood sticking to your clothes–a mix of the fragmentum and your own. The worst part was that it was mainly your own, with the source coming from a deep gash in your abdomen. You were losing blood at a terrifying rate.

Panic fills your veins once you fully process the gravity of the situation. Heart thumping, you realize that you’re going to die–and you are going to die alone.

What a pitiful end this was.

You’ve sent a distress call to the guild, but you know that your fate has been sealed already. You’ll be long gone before anyone will be here to help you, and they’d just be here to clean up your remains. You hope that the guild would at least grant you a proper funeral.

It’s truly comical how fate works. People your age are usually too busy thinking about marriage, or deciding how many kids they want to have in the near future. And yet, here you are, on the precipice of reaching death’s door, thinking about your funeral.

Your vision turns blurry, and you sniffle as hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Fuck, you don’t want to die. There are far too many things that you haven’t done. And yet, you can’t find the strength to continue on either. You’re just so, so tired.

In the midst of your cries, you softly mumble out a name. A name that you love, hate, and everything in between with a passion.

“…Veritas.”

You initially wanted to go on this mission with the intent of exploring this planet, but after the argument, you know you went mainly because you wanted to prove him wrong.

You wonder if he truly meant those words. Even if he didn’t, maybe he was right, because look at what your determination had cost you–lying in a pool of your own blood, all because you wanted Veritas to see that you weren’t weak and incapable.

Even though you went on this expedition angry at him, (a part of you still is angry) you’ve never wanted to see him so badly in your life. You were going to die with many regrets–perhaps the biggest one was that you never got to tell Veritas how you truly feel about him.

You just want to see him once last time. Is it selfish to ask for one more day with him? One more hour… or to engage in at least one more heated debate. Hell, you’d even take one more minute with him. And in that minute, maybe you’d slap him in the face for what happened. But maybe you’d tell him you love him and kiss him over and over, apologizing for even thinking about slapping his stupidly perfect face.

Despite how much of an asshole he can be at times, you love Veritas Ratio. You love his snark and sarcasm and everything about him, and you’re going to die without even knowing if he loves you back. This is your biggest regret.

No, you can’t die like this. You need to tell him. You have to.

As darkness starts to cloud your vision, you use all of your remaining strength to pull your phone out from your pocket despite the wound in your abdomen screaming in protest. Your fingers shakily make their way to Veritas’ contact, and with a pained breath, you begin to type.

“Take me to where she sent the distress call, now.”

There was a bunch of commotion in the guild—too much commotion considering how early it was. Veritas could only wonder what all the clamor was about, but he froze once he heard your name leave one of the researcher’s mouths.

And his biggest nightmare is now a reality once someone finally fills him in on the situation: Your signal had disappeared off the radar, but not after you sent a distress call to the guild. You needed help, yet you were so far from his grasp. “But Doctor, we-“

“I need not repeat myself. Her life is in grave danger, and yet here you are, arguing with me and wasting precious time when this time could be used saving her.” His words surprised both himself and the guild member, who shakily nodded at his request. Veritas was certain that if you were just anybody else, he could have less of a care about your distress signal. But no, this was you—and he needed to make sure that you were okay.

Veritas looked calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, he was falling apart. Calm yourself, you need to be the strong one in this situation. She’s the one in danger here.

Aeons, all he had to do was convince you to not go on this expedition. Instead, he made everything worse with his poor choice of words, and now he’s paying the price for it. He could only hope that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me Y/N. Please. That’s all I ask.

In his office, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on his desk, and they’ve slowly begun to wither away.

When Veritas finally arrived at where you were last seen on the signal, there were bodies littered everywhere, and he could only hope that none of them were yours. Paired with those bodies was the color red—crimson was scattered all over, and it was practically all he could see. Did you take all of these fragmentum down by yourself?

As Veritas inspected all of the fragmentum bodies, all slain by a single blade, one of the researchers accompanying him pointed out a trail of blood leaving the site. It makes him freeze, because it might be…

“Y/N.”

Shit.

He immediately goes after the trail without an ounce of hesitation. The scene laid before him is something that has only haunted him in his nightmares, yet at this very moment, it lies before him as a terrifying reality.

His blood runs cold, and for the first time in his life, Veritas Ratio is rendered speechless.

Your limp body lies in front of him, in a pool of so much blood that just seeing it sickens him to his stomach. He can’t feel his own body as he falls to his knees, paying no mind to the other researchers around him. No, right now, it was just you and Veritas. Nobody else.

“No,” With trembling hands, he pulls your body close to his own as your blood taints his clothing. Even though he knows you’re too far gone already, he can’t help but try to feel your pulse, because there’s a part of him that just refuses to believe that he’s too late. “No, no, no—“

There was nothing.

It probably hasn’t been beating for a while, and that thought leaves him utterly empty, with a single stray tear rolling down his cheek.

If he were just a little bit faster, maybe he could’ve saved you. If he could’ve just formulated his words correctly so he could convince you not to go on this expedition. If he could’ve just apologized…

If he could’ve just been… a better friend.

All these could haves, yet Veritas didn’t act on any of them.

Pathetic.

Your phone is beside you, and Veritas gingerly picks it up. The screen was still lit, despite it being shattered to oblivion. It was open to the messaging app—specifically his contact.

It was never sent due to poor signal, but you were messaging him before you died. He was your last thought.

“I’m sorry Veritas. I just don’t want you to think I’m weak and incapable.”

“Still, I want you to remember that”

You were the one apologizing to him, even after everything was said and done. He can’t even fathom that.

And weak and incapable, huh. You were anything but that. If anything, Veritas was the weak and incapable one. He was weak for not being able to swallow his pride even if he was the one in the wrong—and he was incapable of simply apologizing to you.

And the last message… What is it supposed to mean?

What do you want him to remember?

When Veritas was sent to Penacony and matters with the head of the Oak family, Sunday, had been dealt with, he was finally allowed to leave. It was the first mission the guild had assigned him since you left, and his efforts to prevent Aventurine from going on an all-out suicide mission helped Veritas take his thoughts away from you, even if it was just for a moment.

And yet, you always find your way back to haunt him. Not even the Land of Dreams could prevent that.

Still, he had done his part, sorted out his deals in Penacony as a representative sent by the guild, and it was time to go.

It’s been a few months since your death, and Veritas thinks that living without you is like living without the sun. It’s funny how he’s only realized how much you’ve changed his life only after you’ve gone. You lit up his life, both metaphorically and physically—and now, everything feels so dull, and he constantly longs for your presence in the darkness.

But now you’re gone, and he feels so terribly lost, even now as he does paperwork in his office. Life became way more monotonous after you had left. The quiet is suffocating, because Veritas can only think about the times that the quiet office was filled with your voice instead.

Even now, in the rare moments that Veritas picks up a book nowadays, he thinks about how much you would have enjoyed it as well.

Paperwork is one of the few things that he finds solace in anymore, as it helps him drown out his thoughts so they don’t end up drifting back to you.

…You.

His eyes land on your sword before he can even do anything about it, and he swallows thickly. Your blade is displayed on his wall, another way for Veritas to show his honor for you.

The blade you singlehandedly used to defeat all those monsters, and the blade you’ll never be able to wield again.

He tears his eyes away from it before his thoughts can spiral again. He can feel his vision start to blur, and he blinks the tears away before they escape. He wonders how many tears he’s shed for you since you’ve been gone.

Veritas tries and fails to focus on his paperwork once more until he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.

He thinks a walk will do him good.

He stands up from his desk and slowly walks over to his office door, wondering who it could be. He rarely gets visitors nowadays, unless it’s something that’s of utmost importance. Everyone else is afraid to talk to him, as Veritas became… colder after your death.

If anyone were to ask why—it’s because when you died, a part of Veritas did too.

He turns the door’s handle, only to see…

You.

You were standing right in front of him, in the same outfit that you were in the day you left for your mission. Except this time, you were alive, and Veritas has no idea what to think.

You’re the first one to break the silence, whispering his name. “Veritas?”

Hearing you say his name feels like he can finally breathe again. “Y/N? Is it really you?”

Before you can even answer his question, he engulfs you in a tight hug, breathing in your scent. Veritas held you like his life depended on it—because at this moment, it felt like it did. He says the words that hve been on his mind for the past few months. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry darling. If only I hadn’t-“

You pull back from the hug, putting your pointer finger against his lips as a signal for him to stop talking. Barely even registering the endearing name that he called you, you smile, cupping his cheeks before sighing tenderly. “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, Veritas.”

He only hugs you tighter, coming to a revelation that only makes the pain in his heart ever worsen. He saw your lifeless body himself, he paid respects to your body at your funeral… and he laid your favorite flowers on top of your gravesite where your body rested, even though those flowers were supposed to be an apology gift. “You’re… not real.”

“I’m still in Penacony, right? This is all a dream.”

You smile, nodding in conformation. “Nothing truly gets past you, does it? You’re dreaming what you desire the most right now.”

“I promise you that we will meet again, Veritas. it will not be today, but the day will eventually come, and I’ll be waiting for you every step of the way.” You breathe in deeply. “But right now, you need to wake up from this dream, before it's too late.”

He’s not sure if he wants to wake up, though.

“But what if… I just want to stay here with you?”

“We both know it’s not what you really want.” You can see right through him. “If you stay with me in this dream, you’ll be living nothing but a simulated life. I may be here with you, but you’ll never truly fill that hole in your heart, because I am not Y/N. I’m just a creation of your deepest desires, and you know that I’ll never be her. That is not a life worth living.”

“I know she would want you to live your life to the fullest, to truly experience things, to teach your students unforgettable lessons… so they become great people like you.” You pause, looking right into his eyes. They’re filled with pain, sorrow, and the desire to cling on to the past. “And when your time comes eventually, she will be waiting for you. You will apologize once again, because you never got to apologize to her before she died, but she has forgiven you long ago, and it’s all because…”

Despite that, you have to teach him that it’s time to let go. “She wants you to remember that she loves you, Veritas Ratio.”

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

A tear rolls down his cheek at your words, and then another…. and another. “Even if I don’t know how to apologize?”

You let out a watery laugh, nodding your head. “Even if you don’t know how to apologize.”

“Then… I will do as she asks. It is the least I can do to make up for what I’ve done.” He says, and he takes a deep breath before his next words. “Can I… hug you one last time? Even though you aren’t… actually her.”

“Go ahead, Veritas. But I’m afraid that after this, you have to let go.”

You need to let go.

He nods before wrapping his arms around your figure. It was such a vulnerable act, like a man putting the entirety of his heart and soul out for you to take. He breathes in your scent, wanting to take it in once last time before he has to bid you goodbye. You feel a few of his tears staining your clothing, but you pay it no mind.

How many tears has he shed for you since you’ve been gone? Not enough. He doesn’t feel that it’ll ever be enough.

When he opens his eyes, you’re slowly fading away from him. There’s a melancholic smile on your face, your eyes meeting his—filled with pain, sorrow, a desire to cling onto the past, and yet… a hint of acceptance.

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

Yes, he remembers. And he’ll remember your words for the rest of his life, until the moment that he leaves this cosmos on his deathbed. He’s just hoping that you’ll wait long enough for him to say it back.

Before you’re about to fade away completely, you lean in one last time and whisper to him…

“It’s time to wake up, Veritas.”

He wakes up from the dream pool with a gasp. The water splashes around him, and a few stray tears roll down his cheeks.

The rest of his actual Penacony trip went by surprisingly smoothly, and he doesn’t mention the dream that he had to anyone. It was like a secret shared between you and Veritas–and he was going to treasure that secret forever.

And now, the Charmony Festival has commenced, and the fireworks have begun. As he watches the sparks explode into thousands of dazzling rays of light above, he pulls out his phone to text you. Almost like one final goodbye, because he knows it’s what you would’ve wanted.

“I love you too, Y/N. I will love you my entire lifetime–past beyond the boundaries of eternity, even after all the stars long die out in the cosmos.

I long for the day that we will meet again… because then, I’ll finally be able to tell you this confession in person. For now, I hope you can continue to find the patience to keep waiting for me.

…Until the stars align, and we’re able to see each other once again.”

He looks up to the endless bursts of blazing rays lighting up the night, mixed with the eternal shine of the cosmos. It was truly a sight to behold. And for a split second, he could feel someone by his side watching the fireworks with him. It warmed his heart, even if it were just for a moment.

“Aren’t these fireworks beautiful, Veritas?”

“They will never be as enchanting as you, Y/N.”

#semi writes #dr ratio #dr ratio hsr #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #dr ratio x you #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio angst #dr ratio comfort #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #divider by cafekitsune

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.”

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his.

You look at him. “Hm?”

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?”

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.”

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!”

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?”

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you.

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.”

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?”

“It’s a figure of speech, love.”

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.”

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?”

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can.

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.”

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.”

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.”

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.”

“He was making fun of me?”

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass.

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?”

You nod.

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.”

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.”

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.”

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.”

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?”

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

2K notes · View notes

aesteries · 29 days ago

Text

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ ─ ❝everbloom❞ ─ jacaerys velaryon and tyrell!reader. | the unforgettable gift of a first-time lover.

❝If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.❞

WARNINGS: attempt at fluff smut, everything threatens to choke jacaerys, he needs new lungs, mentions of arranged marriages, baela and unnamed betrothed are aware, reader is from house tyrell but with no description of features other than having breasts, friends and first love to strangers, doomed, first-time sex for both of them, loss of virginity as a gift, semi-public oral (m&f), unprotected p in v, love marking, worship.

words: 9.9k

Winter had fast approached King's Landing, the barely-felt chill seeping through the castle’s stone walls in an attempt at soothing the usual humid heat of the capital, like a faint veil compared to what it could do just a few hours on dragonback away. The days started late now and were much shorter, with a dim sun struggling to rise over the horizon on the morrow. Its sibling, the moon, chased after it as it barely reached its peak across the sky, a mocking younger brother eager to ruin its sibling. The shift of the season had brought a different effect on the family, as the usual venom underneath seemingly innocent words had been packed away with the autumn leaves and spring’s blooming flowers.

The empty chambers of the southern wing of the castle would soon be filled with life, laughter, and music with the visit of members of Great Houses as they paid their seasonal visits to celebrate the holy days of the Faith of the Seven with their liege. To Jace, though, winter brought something completely different. Despite the blood of the dragon that ran through his veins and ignited himself, the lick of his winter nameday sent shivers down his spine.

Ten and eight.

It would all change for him in the coming year—a turning point, for better or worse; he could not decide yet. Now a man grown, his long-awaited union with his betrothed would be formalised with the blessings of a grand ceremony in front of the important people of the seven kingdoms. A wedding would open doors to new responsibilities, tasks, and worries. This rite of passage, the bounding of a ring on his finger and his soul with another, would also take him to a new place in the royal council, where he was to assume a more important role, a heavier voice over esteemed lords, as he began to prepare for his future.

It was what he wanted all along, or at least, it was what he had been raised to desire. So, on the very day of his nameday feast, as he leaned against one of the silent corridors of the Red Keep with his eyes falling over the training yard to watch his younger siblings quarrel, he could not help but feel the anxiety build in the pit of his stomach, an annoying itch that he could not ignore.

His brown eyes, as intense as fire, were fixed on the two small frames that moved in sync with the older men, white hair caught in the light as the sun began to dance over the sky while the moon teased its appearance. Aegon and Viserys, sons of their mother’s second marriage, were the very image of Old Valyria, with pure dragon-blooded ancestry on their skin. Despite the immense love he felt for them, a nagging doubt crept into his mind—would one of them eventually turn against him when he claimed the throne, fuelled by the whispers and speculation surrounding his true lineage? He forced himself to take a deep breath, suppressing the bitter taste of anxiety and the lump that often formed in his throat, threatening to choke the air out of him.

Jacaerys had been so consumed by the uncertainty of his future, his blood, and his life that he failed to notice as a second heartbeat approached him slowly, a quiet rustle of fancy clothes while the figure tiptoed around corners and down the deserted corridor where he remained. Normally, his senses would have been on high alert, but this particular day, his mind was elsewhere, making him vulnerable to the sneakiest of attacks. The delicate figure moved closer with an almost mischievous glint in their eye, savouring the element of surprise they had over the young prince.

A hand crept forward, slender index finger extended, poised to deliver a playful jab to his ribcage. And then, the figure exclaimed, “Boo!”

Jacaerys’ soul was yanked out of his body, or so it felt like, leaving him disoriented as he spun around with indignation, ready to confront whoever had dared to disturb his daydreaming. But instead of finding a scowling, unfamiliar face, his gaze fell upon a vision that had him choking on the very air he was breathing. It was her, beauty and grace, an everblooming flower. His heart raced at the mere sight of his first love, the secret that he guarded fiercely, his one and only. The memories of the countless summers they spent together came flooding back as he set his eye on hers. As children, the two had spent two moons every year together after their mothers formed a strong bond and brought the two families together. The nostalgic ache in Jacaerys' chest reminded him of the joy, the laughter, and the secrets they had shared.

Even now, no longer a child, her face still blossomed with that radiant smile that had first captivated him. Her cheeks flushed with the gentle touch of rose petals, a kiss of flowers on her skin. Her eyes, so vibrant and full of life, sparkled with mischief under the golden hour. The corner of her full lips twisted into that smile that always told the truth of her intentions, the playfulness of it all. She stood tall, taller than before, with her hands behind her back in perfect poise, as expected of a high-born lady. Her voice remained that sweet melody that soothed his heart, a song from the wind. "It is nice to see you again, my prince," she greeted him.

He curtsied with exaggerated flair, his eyes never straying from hers as his entire self relaxed in front of her, his worries slipping away with the winter breeze. ”My Lady Tyrell," he laughed.

Her response was immediate, infectious laughter bursting from her like a ray of sun making its way through a cloudy day. She had to cover her mouth to try and contain the radiant smile that threatened to take over her entire face, and he was quick to join in with her laugh, their voices echoing through the empty corridor like the misbehaved children they used to be. He took a step forward, his arms opening wide to welcome his girl in a warm embrace, and for a brief moment, they were lost in the joy of their reunion. It had been a long year without each other, and exchanging letters was nothing compared to having her in his arms. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin—the stinky dragon, as she would say, had become her most favourite smell in the world. When they finally drew apart, their eyes met, a loving gaze.

“Happy nameday, you dirt-eater.” Her voice trembled as she could barely hide her excitement. The butterflies in her stomach took flight, fluttering with anticipation, nothing in comparison to the wild dragons of the prince before her. He cleared his throat, shoulders squaring as he pulled himself together, the embarrassingly dumb smile still plastered on his face. She brought forward a mysterious box that she had been hiding behind her back and away from his attention, wrapped in delicate pieces of black cloth and with a green velvet ribbon keeping it together. The wrapping could have used some work, as it was obviously put together by her own hand, but that only added to the charm. The weight of the box was unexpected, and as he accepted it, the object inside shifted, its contents rattling softly against the sides.

His hand quivered like a weak leaf as he grasped the delicate box, and the words barely escaped his lips, "A gift, my flower?" His voice trembled as he whispered, "Your presence is enough to illuminate my world.”

Jacaerys gazed into the colour of her eyes, the tidal waves of memories crashing over him like the shores of Dragonstone, a reminder of home, taking him back to the earliest days of their friendship. He could recall their initial encounter, an awkward meeting forced by their mothers, which, in the end, marked the beginning of a bond that would blossom into something more beautiful. The countless afternoons they spent playing, laughing, and bickering when they fought like the children that they were, the many falls and scrapes that left them bruised, and the quiet comfort when words were unnecessary. The innocence of those days had been kind to them, allowing them to unfold together like the petals of a flower. And who would forget that one life-changing night when, at the tender age of ten and two, they stole each other away to the darkest corners to experience the love they witnessed from the adults with inexperienced kisses and hugs that were kept secret from the prying eyes of others?

And after all these years, as they continued to steal glances and kisses and love only they could understand, the emotions between them intensified, refusing to be extinguished even as their moments together began to grow forbidden and inappropriate as they reached maturity.

She flashed a confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief, as she reached forward to unveil the gift that would forever bind them together. "I had to," she said, her voice low and husky, "so you'll always carry a piece of me with you, even as we take on our separate journeys into adulthood."

He tugged on the ribbon with extreme care, his eyes widening as the wrapping made way to reveal the treasure within. The box creaked open, allowing him to set his gaze on the stunning dagger that was nestled in a bed of white velvet. The handle was crafted from a vibrant green glass that matched the scales of his dragon, and a bright red rose was suspended within the glass, a symbol of their unbreakable bond. A dragon and a rose, together forever.

She took a step closer, enveloping him in the familiar flowery perfume that he adored, making his senses tingle. She pointed to the rose with a delicate finger, her eyes searching for him. “A little bit of you and a little bit of me,” she smiled, “so you never forget me.” The dagger was the perfect representation of both of them, and he would treasure it with his life.

“I would never be capable of forgetting you.” He whispered, his voice broken with emotion. The weight of her gesture was still shaking his heart as he set the gift aside on the railing behind him, freeing his hands to take hold of his beloved once again and bring her against his chest for another warm embrace. Her body moulded perfectly against his, and her arms wrapped around his middle as he continued to praise her, “You are my flower.”

They knew that it was dangerous, forbidden, wrong even. They were promised to others, bound by duties and law far greater than themselves, yet the feeling of being in each other's arms was difficult to compare, intoxicating, a sweet temptation. The young lady could feel his heartbeat as she rested against his chest, a soothing melody while Jace buried his face in her hair, wishing he never had to let go of her. He felt like a bee stuck in honey, unable to tear himself away from the sweetness of their embrace. The dagger was long forgotten as they lost themselves in the tender embrace, feeling her love as his most precious gift. The warmth of their bodies intertwined, and the world around them melted away, leaving only the softness of her skin and the rhythmic beating of their hearts. He leaned down, his breath caressing the shell of her ear, and whispered, “You look more beautiful every time I look at you.”

She pulled back from his embrace, her eyes locked on his as her face flushed with the most gentle of colours at his compliment. Her soft and gentle hands cupped his face lovingly, bringing him to her for a brush of their lips. Their mouths parted over each other, overwhelmed by their need for each other. Jace’s arms encircled her waist, surrendering to her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing their kiss to escalate into an all-consuming dance of romance.

He was powerless against her lips, giving in to their sweetness, drawing him. His kisses travelled to the corner of her mouth, teasing a gentle path down her jawline to the irresistible softness of her skin as he left a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. Eventually, he found himself at the sensual curve of her chest, ghosting over her collarbones, aching to move further down the neckline. She knew his longing too well, all the signs that he yearned for more, and she felt the same way. Yet, Jacaerys was a gentleman, and he would never be the one to cross the line between them. The decision, then, rested with her, and she was willing to take the risk. With a subtle tilt of her head, she created space for him, her slender fingers weaving through his curls as she drew him closer, his face disappearing into the softness of her chest, nestled between the curves that spilt over the edge of her gown.

He took a deep, sharp breath as his fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress, his heart racing like a runaway horse, pounding painfully inside of his chest. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remember that she deserved respect, that she should not be in his mind the way that she was. But then, he heard a sound that was like nothing he had ever heard before—a soft, angelic moan that sent a shiver down his spine. The sound made the sweetest of melodies seem dull in comparison, an intoxicating sound that consumed him. He needed to hear it again; he needed more of it.

Completely under the charm of her music, his hand began its journey over the delicate curves of her waist and bodice. His fingers, trembling in an inexperienced dance, curled around the fabric to pull it downwards and reveal the promise of her form while his other hand wrested with the stubborn laces that kept her hidden away, tugging almost desperately for release. He needed to put his lips on her skin once again, to draw out that melody, to hear her. Her once steady breath now quickened, becoming shallow and laboured, her chest rising and falling as if her very being depended on the touch of his lips. The air was heavy with anticipation, his passion a tempest waiting to be freed.

At last, the laces gave up, and her breasts, heavy and eager, spilt forth from their confines. His lips claimed one of them, his tongue dancing across the tender flesh to taste the sweetness of her forbidden skin. A shiver ran through her, a delicious ache spreading through her body as the unfamiliar sensation ignited her senses, her core growing wetter and wetter, her thighs involuntarily pressing together. He could barely contain his desire. There was so much he wanted to do, so little time, so little space. For now, he would be content with this, with the soft gasps escaping her lips as he teased and tormented her. He broke free, his mouth seeking hers once more, while his hands, possessive and demanding, kneaded her breasts, his thumbs tracing circles over her hardened peaks.

"My prince..." Her voice was a barely audible whisper of lust, lost to the feeling of his mouth on her sensitive body. Her eyes seemed clouded, half-lidded and unfocused, lost in a sea of emotions that made it difficult to form coherent thoughts, yet her purpose remained clear. "Let me..." she struggled to start through her breathing, but her sentence remained unfinished as his lips crashed on hers once again in a fervent dance of open-mouthed kisses, the world fading away and leaving only the sweet, sweet sensation of their lips together.

Her hand, delicate in its dance, wandered down his torso, caressing the contours of his body, trailing over his hips until she finally found her way to the bulge that had formed at the front of his pants. It was his name-day celebration; he would be receiving many gifts, and she was determined to make hers stand out from the rest. She pulled back from his kiss, his lips chasing hers in an attempt to reconnect. He looked into her eyes and noticed that glint, that dangerous, mischievous smile across her face, her warning sign. She was plotting something, and he would be at her mercy.

She whispered a husky promise, her breath dancing across his ear: “Let me make you feel good, Jace.” The sight was the very image of sin itself, as the beautiful girl lowered herself on her knees for him, her bright eyes looking up into his with a wicked innocence.

She wasted no time, her fingers moving with calmness and precision as she navigated the threads that kept his breeches tightly over his hips. In stark contrast to him, who had awkwardly struggled with her laces, it was as if she had rehearsed this very moment, her hands moving with a practiced confidence that left him in the dust. In no time, his breeches had been lowered to his thighs alongside the small clothes that had covered him, the cold breeze brushing past his hardness.

He was a sight to behold, pulsing with life. A glistening sheen of pre-cum on the surface of his cock, tracing a path down the sides as he leaked in anticipation. His head was a shade of pink, bordering on an angry red as it demanded attention, and the sight sent shivers down her spine to ignite the fire in her core. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached out, her fingers taking his base and gently wrapping around him to feel him for the first time. Jace gasped, but he bit his lip to stop himself from making another sound, fearing he'd turn into a pathetic, whimpering mess in front of her. It was strange for the both of them, yet they were eager to see what this would bring. Slowly, she guided him towards her mouth.

He could not help the thunderous groan as her mouth engulfed his lenght, the sound so loud that it worried him that the people in the courtyard below might hear him. He reached back for the cold railing that was behind him, his knuckles turning white as he kept himself from falling to the ground at the new pleasure he had discovered. His eyes were squeezed shut, his chiselled features twisted as the intense heat surged through his body like a raging fire, consuming every fibre of his being.

She did not stop until she had taken his entire member, the salty tang coating her tongue as he entered her inch by inch, with the tip teasing the back of her throat. She could feel the threat of gagging, so she gently coaxed him back out and took on a rhythm. A dirtier, more sinful dance began, a symphony of fluids as she bobbed her head, taking him deep and pulling back to tease his swollen tip with her tongue. His body was a fountain, spilling forth a cascade of precum that trailed down her chin, neck, and chest, each drop a testament to her power over him.

Jace's soft moans spilt through the hand on his mouth, his sensitivity driving him to the brink of ecstasy with each lick and suck. His body contorted, his hips eager to push deeper into her mouth, desperate for the delicious torture she gave him.

Her hand joined, stroking the shaft when it left her mouth, moving softly over the wet saliva left behind from her mouth. Her eyes moved up, such a sinful sight for both of them, and met with his. Jace could feel the promise of fire burning away at the pit of his stomach, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the sounds of her mouth as she swallowed him to the base and brought him right back in a new pace, quickening by the second and encouraged by the pathetic sounds that left his mouth. His tip teased the back of her throat with a strange tickle, yet she did not mind and continued to take as much of him as she could and bury him to the very end. With a strangled groan, he reached his breaking point, his body convulsing as he released his seed over her. It coated her face, neck, and chest as she pulled herself back from his pulsating cock, dripping cum as the prince left himself be consumed by his orgasm.

He was swept away to celestial realms, and his eyelids squeezed shut with an intensity that bordered on pain, his eyebrows furrowed. Every muscle in his face was contorted, twisted by an overwhelming emotion that had taken over his entire being. The air seemed to vibrate with his ragged gasps as he struggled to refill his lungs, his body slowly descending back to earth. As his eyes fluttered open, his gaze drifted downwards, drinking in the breathtaking sight before him.

He found her even more beautiful, a twisted sort of beauty, marked by his possession. Her skin, glistening with his seed, was proof of his pleasure.

Jacaerys quickly lowered himself, reaching for the crimson cape that draped over his shoulders as he was brought back to reality. He took his time, savouring the moment as he wiped away the remnants of his passion. His shaky fingers lingered on her breasts, enjoying the gentle bounce as he pressed against them to clean off her skin. "You shouldn't have done that, my lady," he murmured, his voice low and husky, slightly wavering from the pleasure he had felt.

"Why not, my prince?" she replied as her finger wiped some of the remains on the corner of her mouth.

He felt the weight of expectation on his shoulders, the grip of duty around his neck, as he struggled to find the words. It was not proper, he wanted to say; it is not meant to be; it is wrong. So many words swirled in his mind, yet he could not convey the message. He could not form the words to say that what they had done had been a mistake because deep inside he felt that it was not. He was bound to marry his cousin, Baela, in a strategic union while she was promised to a lord of another prominent house, yet as they stood together, bathed in the glow of each other’s presence, the ties that had been made for them seemed to burn into insignificance, overtaken by the hum of their forbidden bond.

She gazed into his eyes, clouded by his torment, duty and passion struggling to dominate the other. With a tender gesture, she cradled his face in her hands once again, her lips uttering a gentle whisper of his name, "Jacaerys...". His eyes brimmed with tears, perhaps not of sadness, but out of frustration that he fought to conceal. The longing in his heart was palpable—he yearned for her with his entire being, yet the gods had forbidden their love with a cruel fate that taunted them. In a matter of weeks, they would be in someone else's arms. She was bound to a man she did not know, and he, to a woman who couldn't claim his heart.

But for now, they could find comfort in each other’s lips.

The palace was buzzing with excitement as people gathered to celebrate the day of the heir's firstborn son. Jacaerys was overwhelmed by the attention, sitting at the centre of the grand feast with everyone fixed on him. The sound of laughter and chatter and music gave him a pulsating headache, and he had no choice but to ignore it as the many lords and ladies came to pay respects, bowing and introducing each other before returning to their seats. He had to sit through all of the greetings and listen to the repetitive wishes for his health and happiness. He sat stiffly between his mother, Queen Rhaenyra, and his cousin and betrothed, Princess Baela, who chatted incessantly, trying to engage him in conversation, completely unaware of his discomfort.

He was a pathetic man, he decided, as he felt the bitter gust of jealousy sweeping over him every time his eyes were drawn to that specific corner of the room to see her laughing with the man she was to marry. He couldn’t help but wonder if their encounter had already been forgotten as she seemed so carefree while his manhood still pulsated with the ghost of her mouth. His mind constantly replayed the moment, over and over, tormenting him and leaving him aching for another taste.

"Jacaerys." Baela's voice cut through the air, stern and with an obvious anger that had him whipping his head back to face her. Her features were twisted in a deep frown, her eyes blazing with the hint of fire that seemed to burn him away with her mere gaze. "I see how you're looking at her." her voice was low, not wanting anyone around them to hear her words, "Everyone can see."

He let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he began to explain, "It's just—"

But Baela wouldn't let him finish, her interruption swift, like the stab of a knife.

"No." She snapped, and her voice was like the crack of thunder that shook him awake in the middle of the night. "I will not go through the embarrassment of an affair, Jace. This must end before we are wed, or there will be consequences." Her words were an obvious threat, making him wonder what exactly she meant by that. What else could she do? She already knew that they were destined to fail, to wither away, and she just had to get through one last night before she was out of their life, hopefully, forever. She hated doing that to him, but Baela knew that she was as tied as Jacaerys in this situation, and she would not become the laughingstock of the court.

But his flower commanded attention with the dress of deep crimson that she wore, decorated with intricate gold details and a daringly low neckline that drew the eyes of the room to her beauty. It was impossible to look away from her; his gaze was stuck on the way her locks cascaded down her shoulders and back, with a sprinkling of jewels falling over her forehead to add to the captivating presence. She must have felt the weight of his eyes, he thought, as she slowly turned towards him, and their eyes locked, which made him feel impossibly close to her. The rest of the room faded like mist, insignificant.

He pushed his chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor, and rose from the table, his family's eyes upon him. As he walked around the table, his boots clicked on the floor, and he caught a glimpse of Baela's questioning gaze, but he dared her to speak out against him as he raised his head. His legs carried him towards the far end of the hall where his lady sat with her family. The members of House Tyrell ceased their conversation, their faces sombre, like if a shadow had fallen over them, as he halted beside their table, his hand extended in invitation to the youngest daughter of Lord Tyrell. Next to her, her own betrothed's face flushed, but he couldn't refuse a prince of the realm, no matter how awkward the situation. The eyes of the men met for a second, and there was a clear rivalry in them, but one was declared the winner by the gentle touch of her hand.

"A dance, my lady?" he asked, his deep voice ringing out across the silent corner, his eyes locked on hers, expectation on his face.

She didn't need to be asked twice. The prince grasped her hand, pulling her into the whirlwind of dancers on the crowded floor. As they took their position, his hand settled comfortably on her hip, a gesture that felt like second nature.

Everything seemed effortless with him by her side, and she could not explain why being with him made her feel that way. So intimate, so loving, so carefree, and yet so heartbreaking. They spun across the floor in a perfect dance, just like they had done since they met, and now no longer children. They laughed together as one made a mistake, stepping over the foot of the other, but the joy was overflowing between them. They must have danced for too long, because the couples around them shifted, came, and went while they remained the same. As he looked at her, he was once again hit by the realisation of their relationship, and there was a sinking feeling in his chest. Yet he was forced to push it aside for her, who looked radiant with her smile as he twirled her around once more. As they swayed to the rhythm, the girl leaned in close, her chest pressed against Jace's, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have another surprise for you."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he played along. "What more could you possibly give me?"

For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and Jace was captivated by the intensity of her gaze. It was as if the very fire of candlelight burnt behind her eyes, melting his heart and awakening feelings he'd never experienced before. The back of her hand dared to caress the skin of his cheek in a scandalous public gesture as her lips curled, a dangerous smirk.

Her words stopped him in his tracks.

"Tonight..." Her voice was soft. "I will gift myself to you, and you will be the first to watch as I come undone completely beneath your touch."

And when the music had reached its climax, she slipped through the sea of dancers, her figure consumed by the crowd in a fascinating disappearing act. The sounds, colours, and sensations blurred around him as he frantically scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of her and her gown, but she was gone, a petal gone with the wind.

A whirlpool of emotions destroyed him, a dangerous mixture of worry, excitement, and fear. His heart was racing like a free stallion running through the open vale as his mind went around the whispers of his flower. The gentle touch of her hand on his arm, the rustle of her gown, the smile... the secrets. He found himself dragged back to his position within the rest of the royal family. He stood frozen, lost in time, completely unaware of the eyes of his family on him until he was nudged forward to prepare to give his speech to his guests. His heart sank with her absence; instead, he locked eyes with one of her sisters, whose knowing glint told him she was aware of her younger sister’s mischief. The sister's piercing gaze seemed to hold a secret message; she was silently daring him to wonder what kind of adventure she had concocted, leaving him to sweat it out in front of the crowd.

His cock stirred.

Jacaerys muttered a quiet curse, his posture twisting and turning uncomfortably in an attempt to fix himself as his mother’s words droned on. Lucerys, catching sight of his brother’s situation, had to stifle a laugh behind his hand while he innocently moved one of their youngest siblings to the front of the family to cover the heir’s decency. Yet, it continued on, with well-wishers and bootlickers taking turns to congratulate him and blessing him on his coming marriage. While Baela did not seem to mind the attention, he felt like the earth had opened up to swallow him whole. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, his face burning with embarrassment.

As the crowd finally bgan to disperse, he made a hasty exit with a mumbled farewell before he stumbled down the stairs with a stiff posture, each step feeling like a thousand stones had been poured into his boots. The dark hallway enveloped him, but the cold wind of night did little against the fire underneath his skin. His mind raced, everything he ever knew and wanted taking over his thoughts. Was she waiting for him in his chambers, hiding from the multitude of people? He needed clarity.

But he could not deny that raw, primal urge that coursed through his veins. He wondered if what he felt was that ‘masculine power' that Daemon had once joked about with him; of course, at the time he did not understand, but now he knew. If she was offering herself, he would take her and give in to the sin that was his desire. He craved her, all of her and more. Her body was his forbidden treasure, and his lips his map. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming reality: no one in this world deserved her more than he did. She belonged to him, and no one else would ever fill the void she occupied in his heart.

The heavy doors to his chambers creaked open, almost a mocking sound as they parted in desperation, drawn back by anxious hands. The room was shrouded in darkness, except for the solitary candle that barely illuminated the space and the sheer curtains holding the full power of the light of night back. Yet, amidst the gloom, a sweet aroma danced through the air, transporting him to a memory of her. The scent of flowers clung to him, tenderly reminding him of the warmth of her skin.

His deep voice, heavy with longing, echoed through the room. “You left me.”

A gentle hum, a teasing sound, was her response. “I wanted you to think about me.”

The words hung in the air, a challenge, a provocation. “I think about you every waking moment,” he replied, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions.

In response, the curtains shifted, and the silvery light of the moon spilt into the room, its radiance highlighting her beauty like a work of art. The dress she had been wearing lay discarded, abandoned over a chair, and in its place, she wore a slip of silk with a green velvet ribbon that tied at the front of her body, a gift, just like the dagger she had given him earlier in the day. She had planned this all along. His flower pushed herself off the bed, and her hips swayed with a sensual grace as if calling him to come closer. He felt his throat close, almost losing his breathing, his hands instinctively reaching out to claim her as soon as she was within reach. His fingers settled on the soft fabric of her waist, feeling the gentle curve of her body beneath.

Her hands came to claim space over his chest, her delicate fingers tracing gentle shapes in an attempt to calm the turmoil inside of him, feeling the material of his clothing, feeling his form underneath. Her voice, so sweet and velvety, was full of adoration as she spoke to him. “You are so sweet, Jace, my gentle dragon.” Her praise fuelled his fire within, his love for her reaching the skies above him, a rival to Vermax and his wings.

Jacaerys's response was low and husky, his words barely above a whisper as he was on the edge of falling apart under her touch. “And you are my everblooming flower.” The longing had become unbearable, and he slowly leaned in, his lips yearning to bridge the gap between them. The kiss was deep, passionate, and all-consuming, a fusion of their bodies and souls. Heads turned, lips met and moved, and sounds of passion echoed around them and throughout the empty chamber.

Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him in as if trying to merge their very essence to become one being, inseparable and indivisible, never to be parted. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them lost in their beautiful desire. He could feel himself hardening in his breeches even more, growing more uncomfortable by the mere second as he was taken over by his needs. She could feel him, that strange pressure against her front as she was weakened as well, her mind lost in a haze and anticipation.

Almost violently, like the tearing of tender skin, the lovers ripped themselves apart from their suffocating kiss as they ran out of air, their chests rising and falling in ragged unison as they battled to refill their lungs. The prince's lips then grazed the gentle curve of her neck, planting tender, deliberate kisses on the sensitive skin, prompting a soft hum of satisfaction from her, ”Will you accept my gift, my love?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the heavy silence, the ringing in his ears.

Jace's entire being seemed to seize, his lips still lingering on the delicate curve of her neck, as he wrestled to process her question. She was willing to surrender herself to him, completely, and brave the repercussions of an unmarried night together. Could he accept such a sacrifice? Was he monstrous enough to put her in such a precarious position? His thoughts swirled in turmoil, a part of him screaming that it was morally wrong, while another part yearned to devour her whole.

"I could not do that to you, my flower," he breathed out, brokenness hidden in the crook of her neck and his words laced with a mix of longing, "think of your husband—“

But her interruption was swift and sharp, like she had anticipated his thoughts. "He does not mind," she said, her voice low and resolute. "We reached an agreement.” The prince's eyes widened in stunned surprise as he pulled himself back, his gaze locked on hers.

"What do you mean?" he demanded to know, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and a strange fear. Could he trust her future husband’s words? What if he were to turn on his agreement, accuse her of betrayal, and strip her of her honour?

Her eyes sparkled like emeralds under the silvery light, brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. "He knows what this means for us," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion, "that it is goodbye.” She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her cherubic features as she looked into his eyes, hopeful.

Goodbye.

It was goodbye.

In no time, they will belong to other people.

The next time they meet, they will not be lovers; they will be forced to be strangers.

She knew him too well and knew that his struggle with morality was the only thing that was holding him back from surrendering to his desires. She wanted him to understand that she wanted this, wanted him, regardless of the consequences. So, in a last attempt to let him understand, she reached for the delicate ribbon that was holding her slip together to tug on it and allow the material to shift ever so slightly, revealing just a small hint of her bare skin hiding underneath. As the gown slid open, it seemed that the sound of her rapid heartbeat was the only sound that filled the silence, a reminder that the outcome of this moment was far from certain. He could very well reject her final approach, and she would have to understand.

The velvet parted like curtains as the breeze made the fabric sway gently over her body, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as his eyes were drawn to the womanly shape of her body. His gaze turned into the very mirror of a predator, like that dangerous glint in Vermax’s eyes as he watched his prey. He was drawn to the alluring curve of her breasts, the soft shape of her hips, and down to the forbidden fruit between her tightly clenched thighs, suddenly too aware of his sight over her. At that moment, like a rope snapping, his restraint evaporated, and a primal hunger consumed him. The cold night air seemed to fuel his desire, igniting a fire within him that burnt away any remaining inhibitions.

His hands took hold of her waist, right where they belonged, dragging her in as he claimed her lips once again, sending goosebumps all over her skin. The pressure of his mouth coaxed hers open, and his tongue delved in to find the warmth within. As they kissed, his hand began to roam freely over, pushing the now bothersome velvet aside as he traced her curves, lost in the silkiness of her skin. Her body responded to his touch, her back arching as she suddenly found it difficult to keep her balance, her nails digging into him. The intensity of his kiss was almost overwhelming, leaving her breathless and her senses reeling.

His feet carried them with clumsy steps, legs entwined with each other as they found their way backwards to where she had been waiting for him. The bed, perfectly arranged with soft sheets and plump pillows, was awfully inviting as it seemed to wait for the lovers to surrender to its comfort. She yielded to his guidance, her trust in him allowing them to tumble backwards until the back of her legs found the edge of the bed and she sank down onto the mattress. She settled against one of the many pillows, her shift giving up its attempt to cover her and being discarded aside as she reclined onto the pillows, hair cascading around her like a halo, an otherworldly beauty in the darkness.

Jacaerys felt like he was going to suffocate under the uncomfortable weight of his attire; too many layers threatened to choke the life out of him, so yet again, his inexperienced fingers began to unbutton his clothes, desperate to feel her skin against his and elevate their intimacy. His eyes had darkened to a deep, burning intensity as he looked at her, his lust barely contained behind his restraint. Finally, the last layer had been shed, and he stood before her, bare in body and soul.

With a delicate tug of her hand, she helped him closer to rise on the bed and come to her. He climbed in beside her, together like two pieces of a puzzle, meant to find each other. He hovered over her, his hand on each side of her head as he looked down at her with a love so strong, so deep, and so clear that it made her heart ache with its intensity. He knew that this night would be their only shared secret, one last night before they parted ways forever. She could feel her heart breaking, so she pulled him down to her to take his lips in a kiss that liberated her, pouring all that she felt into the embrace before she could break down in front of him. The young prince's response was immediate, their lips moving in perfect sync as they surrendered to the longing they had repressed.

As he slowly pressed his weight over her, he finally indulged in the desperate wish he had harboured for so long. It was as if he was about to detonate, about to disappear into their passion, never to resurface again. His hands worshipped every inch of her skin, tracing the curves of her hips, the gentle slope of her waist, the softness of her chest, and the slender column of her neck, as his desire reached a fever pitch. His hand, a gentle touch, descended into the valley between her breasts and lingered on the soft expanse of her stomach, igniting a fire within her. Lost in the intensity of the kiss, his palm rested on the mound between her legs, the tips of his fingers teasing the delicate curls. A soft, angelic gasp escaped her lips, “Jace..."

The girl parted her legs in an unspoken invitation, her desire taking over her and clouding her mind. He was a gentleman; he loved her, and he would honour her desire. Every shiver, every arch of her back, every sigh that came through her lips just pushed him to explore further. His fingers slipped between her folds, through the unfamiliar warmth of her arousal. A low groan rumbled in his throat as he felt her for the first time, finding her soaked in a testament of her need for him. Her feelings for him, her desires, her very essence, were laid bare before him.

When her restlessness grew as he touched her, she rolled her hips, a silent plea for more.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured, his voice a low purr against her lips. "Beautiful."

His fingers found peace in a slow dance over her bundle of nerves, testing her limits, finding her pleasure to push her to the brink of ecstasy, to give her what she deserved. She mewled, hips undulating with his touch as his fingers became soaked in her. He followed the rhythm of her body, strokes going harder and faster until she began to drown in a whirlwind of sensation. But his hunger was insatiable. He yearned to give her as much pleasure as she had given him. Pulling away from her lips felt like a betrayal, but he had a different plan in mind. He traced a path of kisses down her neck, across her collarbones, and over the peaks of her breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples. With each kiss, he counted, an act of devotion.

Eight… twelve… sixteen…

He would remember this moment for the rest of his life, he decided, as he committed to memory every inch of her body, her map of treasure that led to her gold. He left traces of his lips as he went, small but distinct spots of reddening flesh as he took her skin into his mouth, made it his home as he kissed down her body. He lowered himself on the bed to comfortably lay between her legs, on his stomach, his face coming to the very centre of her being, his warm breath mingling with the chill of her skin as he delved into the intimate valley between her legs. The heat radiating from her core enveloped his face as his tongue dared to taste the nectar of her womanhood, tracing a path from base to peak.

Jacaerys Velaryon, accustomed to the finest delicacies, had never tasted anything as intoxicating as his beloved girl. He grew on the sweetest of desserts, the juiciest meats, and the finest wines, but nothing compared to her addictive flavour. He devoured her, his mouth unstoppable as he drank her in. The room was filled with the symphony of her moans and the wet, rhythmic sounds of his tongue against her, lapping at the juices that pooled from her most sensitive place. His hands, strong and possessive, held her hips steady as she bucked and writhed beneath him.

His cock, hard and needy, throbbed against the sheets under his body, dampening them with his pre-cum, the sensitive head rubbing against the rough fabric when he ground his hips against the cushion in desperation while his mouth savoured the sweet fruit of her pleasure. He would never get enough of her, he knew, as he took his time with long yet hungry laps at her apex, swearing to never forget the taste of her on his tongue.

Then, she broke, her cries a siren song that drove him wild. Her body arched, her thighs closing around his head as she reached for the heavens. Her first climax washed over her, a wave of pleasure that left her breathless. She spilt into his mouth, and he took her in willingly as he used his tongue to clean her up completely before he pulled back with a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips, coated in her.

He trailed kisses along the delicate skin of her inner thighs, a shiver rippling through her as she climaxed. His lips lingered, savouring the taste of her, the feel of her skin. He knew that marking more of her skin was dangerous, but he could not help himself from sucking in and biting the plumpness of her thighs as he had done all over her stomach and chest, forming a constellation of love bites as he moved. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to mark her as his as his possessiveness took over, as wrong as he knew it was. Her eyes, half-lidded with remaining pleasure, met his, a silent plea for more. She yearned for him, for the fullness he promised.

Jace, his desire burning, pushed himself up on his arms to crawl over her body. His hips pressed against hers, the hard length of him aching against her soft belly. His own juices seeped from him, a tantalising promise of the pleasure to come. He could feel her anticipation, the way her body tensed and relaxed and shifted, the way her breath quickened. He wanted to lose himself in her, to feel her around him, to bury himself in her warmth.

“If you want me to stop,” He whispered, his voice rough and his throat rather dry, “I will.”

But she reached for his face, her lips curving into a smile that held the promise of endless pleasure. He felt a surge of desire as she parted her legs, inviting him into her embrace. With trembling hands, he guided himself towards her, his aching member finding its way to her entrance. A moment of anticipation passed as he positioned himself, and then, with a gentle push, he entered her, embraced by the foreign feel of her cunt. She tensed, her features twisting as the strange burning of his member settled itself deep within her, breaching her and taking that said innocence of hers.

Jace was engulfed by her warmth, a low groan escaping his lips as he thrust deeper. The friction, the sensation of her tight grip around him, drove him wild and ate at him, begging him to move. He could feel her initial resistance, her eyes fluttering closed as she endured the initial discomfort, and he ached for her. But as her body began to yield to him, her grip loosened, and her eyes, filled with a mix of desire and surrender, met his. He knew then that she was his, body and soul, and he would be deserving of her. Always.

His hips moved with a tentative rhythm, his eyes locked on hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret. Her breath quickened, soft whimpers escaping her lips as pleasure began to blossom within her when the initial pain had died out. He claimed her lips once more, their kiss deepening as their bodies moved in a primal dance, moving in a way that seemed natural for them. The initial awkwardness soon gave way to a more confident rhythm, their movements becoming more fluid and passionate.

The room filled with the music of their passion—the soft sighs, the guttural moans, the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin as they found a pace for both of them. The wet, sucking sound of their bodies melding together was a rhythm, driving them to the brink of ecstasy. Jace felt a growing intensity, a hot, pulsating knot forming low in his belly. He wanted to hold onto this moment, to prolong the pleasure, to give her everything he had. This was the first and last night they would spend together; then he would fuck her until the sun found its way back to the skies. Her legs, strong and eager, wrapped around his hips, urging him on. Her heels dug into his back, a silent plea for more, faster, harder. She was edging closer to the precipice, her body trembling with anticipation.

“Jace…” She moaned his name, such a delicious sound that made him feel delirious.

He clung to her, his body surrendering against her, his arms around her and pulling her closer. His hips pounded against hers, relentless as he drove them both to the very end. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest, soft and warm, bouncing with each move of his body. As they reached their peak, they soared together to the heavens amongst the stars and the planets, lost in a concert of moans and gasps, the music of lovers. He gave himself completely, shooting hot ropes of seed deep into her womb, forgetting themselves in the danger of taking root within her, but still, she kept her hold on him, legs clasped down around him. In that moment, they were one, lost in the euphoria of their shared climax.

The aftermath of their passion left them breathless, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding. He collapsed onto her, a heavy weight of love and longing. She clung to him, her face hidden in his shoulder to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. The realisation of their separation was a bitter taste to swallow, and it only made her heart ache after her pleasure had taken her. He was hers, and she was his, forever, yet fate had decreed otherwise.

She hummed a soft melody, a song they had created together as children to distract herself from the impending pain of their separation once she left his chambers. It was a simple tune, a secret language between them, something safe from the world, something only they had. Jace, ever knowing of her emotions, understood the unspoken message in her song, the reason why she had now decided to sing to him. He knew the depth of their love, the intensity of their connection. They were two souls intertwined, bound by a love that would burn for eternity, the dragon and the flower. He had a duty as the heir of the kingdom, and she to the future of her house and family. They met when they already belonged to others, and for that, he would never forgive the gods. They gave, and they took.

And for a long moment, they remained together, hearts beating in unison as they flew back from the very heavens above. The silence, however, was comforting, a warm veil over their tired bodies, a shared understanding of their feelings. It was pure intimacy, trust, and love that kept them safe from the harsh realities of their world. He needed her to know that their love would endure; no matter what, she would always be in his heart. "I love you," he declared, his voice a gentle whisper, overwhelmed by emotions. As she wept, he gently wiped away her tears, his touch a source of comfort that tore at their heartstrings. "I will always love you," he vowed, his gaze unwavering, "and only you.”

“Thank you.” She choked out, “For loving me, though I do not deserve it.”

Jace shook his head, his dark curls matted with sweat. His eyes, filled with a mixture of love and despair, met hers. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips quivering as they threatened to part in a sob that bubbled in his throat. He yearned to give her the world and for a moment wished he was nothing but a simple man deserving of her. “I love you, with my heart and soul, now and forever.”

She, too, was consumed by their love, “Now,” she whispered, her voice trembling, "and forever.”

They spent the night together, finding their pleasure over and over in each other's arms with words of passion and declarations of love, a shared light in the darkness. As dawn approached, casting a soft glow over the room, they lay together with bruised lips, exhausted but content, heartbroken but fulfilled, together. Their secret was known only to a select few; their absence was explained away with elaborate excuses. Her sisters claimed she had spent the night with them, chatting away mindlessly under the light of candles, while his brothers and reluctant cousins feigned ignorance of his whereabouts, pretending that they saw him headed to the dragonpit in the dark of night.

Rhaenyra, however, knew the truth all along yet remained quiet. She had been the witness of the purity of young love from the very moment the two had first met. The queen had tried her hardest to prevent them from committing the same mistakes, yet her efforts were not enough. Her heart ached for her firstborn, who, like her at his age, was bound by duty and forced to sacrifice his happiness. As she gazed upon the sleeping form of her second husband, Daemon, she could not help but wonder if the two of them would ever meet again and eventually be together.

Their weddings took place at the same time, in different places, almost poetic. Jacaerys’ wedding was a lavish celebration witnessed by as many people as they could, with guests from all over Westeros and beyond. Poets and musicians were moved by his sorrow during the festivities, his longing for a love that could not be so evident as he held his bride for their first dance that it would inspire many tales across the realm for centuries to come. Her wedding, though modest, was no less significant. As she was presented to her husband, her heart heavy with sorrow, she forced herself to fulfil her duty. Yet, her tears spoke volumes, revealing the depth of her pain. Despite the circumstances, she endured, as a promise made in a night of heartbreak.

Their paths remained separate, their destinies sealed in the stars. The lovers would never meet again, at least not in this life.

It cannot be denied that, over time, a close bond would blossom between Jacaerys and his cousin-wife, a genuine connection and source of comfort. Together, they welcomed four children into the world: three sons and a daughter, whose name seemed to befit that of a lady of House Tyrell instead of the Valyrian houses. As the years passed, driven by a desire to spare his children from arranged marriages, Jacaerys attempted to reform the traditional customs so his children would be free to choose their own partners, guided by love rather than political advantages.

She brought forth two beautiful twin girls, the mirror images of their mother, and would, unfortunately, pass from an untreatable sickness as her second pregnancy debilitated her young body. The loss of the young Lady of Flowers was a devastating blow to all who knew her, close and far. When the news of her passing reached King’s Landing, Queen Rhaenyra ordered her portrait to be displayed in the Red Keep, under the excuse of her love for a child she had seen grow in front of her eyes. However, those close to Prince Jacaerys knew the true significance of this gesture: it was a silent acknowledgement of the profound love and loss he endured.

As if coming alive from the song of a bard, one of his sons would meet one of her daughters and, with a sweet symphony, would find true love in each other’s arms, just as their parents once did. Yet, this time, their love would be allowed to blossom in the most beautiful union, with the heavens above coming together to bless them. Their love would remain everblooming, a seed planted to grow for many generations to come, a tree of life that would never be cut.

ᡣ𐭩 ─ author's note ;

two months of writing and editing and screaming for THIS?! wack. anyways, happy debut into fluff-smut to me! this oneshot has been through a lot, poor little document. i cannot keep doing this to myself. it's been a long time since i last used the word COCK and it's horrifying lmfao. i need to work on dialogue, i feel like i was limited on that here.

few curious facts about everbloom's world: instead of a reader insert, i had originally created an original female character by the name of alerie tyrell, and the name of jace and baela's daughter was alerya in her honor. the deal she had made with her husband-to-be was that she would never see him again, or mention him in any way. in the first draft, she had a girl that looked just like jace, but the time of their last night and the beginning of her pregnancy was not close at all, so she thought it was a sad gift from the gods. in another draft, she attended jace's crowning ceremony and watched from afar with her children. some of the original ending ideas included a version of hanahaki disease for jace after she passed in childbirth, but i said enough suffering.

i hope it's decent! forgive any grammar mistakes, weird pacing or awkward romance. we can only get better from this!

╰⪼ thank you for reading!

#ᡣ𐭩 #*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ ─ ❝everbloom❞#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #jace x you #jace x reader #jacaerys x you

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mossangelll · 18 days ago

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HII HOW R U?? I was wondering if u could make a yandere caitvi x reader(like a poly relationship). Just headcannons if u like!! I really love ur postss💗💗

Yandere!Caitvi x Reader Headcanons

i’m great, tysm for requesting! sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this ^^

i was gonna add a section on how they kidnap you (figured i’d use it for a different fic) and an nsfw section but i didn’t know if anyone wanted that so i skipped it this time

HOW THEY MEET YOU

ok so vi is the one who notices you first - at first, you’re just another person who blends into the crowd at her fights

but then she begins to see you at every single fight of hers without fail, always with a huge handmade sign that says something like “step on ME, vi” or “vi, you’re the BEST!”

she thinks it’s endearing how someone like you, so unassuming and cute, is hanging around shady dens like this just to support her

you manage to catch her at the bar after one of her fights and you two strike up an unlikely friendship

she starts to fall head over heels for you - you don’t seem to care or even notice that she’s a mess

in fact, you’re hellbent on fixing her and she can’t help but have massive heart eyes at this point even though she’d normally find something like this demeaning (she doesn’t need to be saved!)

all her life, she’s chased after the people she loved and prioritised their well-being and now someone’s finally doing the same for her

you make her feel so seen at a time in her life when she feels incredibly lost and worthless

however it’s at this point vi leaves the fighting scene and reconnects with cait - you gave her the strength to do so

vi always feels guilty about this but you’re always in the back of her mind, a hopeful what if to ponder on the lonely nights after a lover’s quarrel with cait

so it’s nothing short of serendipity when cait starts to come home later and later, talking about a new recruit who has potential that needs to be nurtured and look at that - it’s you

cait knows she needs to be faithful to vi, she would never dream of going behind her back, but she’s drawn to you in a way that simultaneously confuses her and excites her

she becomes your mentor and sees parts of herself in you and that just makes her obsession infatuation that much worse

cait blurs the line between appropriate behaviour between a subordinate and their junior; she shows up at your door randomly for a “work assignment” and pries into the private details of your love life

if she finds out you’re dating someone or interested in someone other than her, your work life becomes a living nightmare

you’ll constantly be admonished for the tiniest infractions simply because she’s wants you all to herself and doesn’t know how to express her emotions in a healthy way

vi can’t even find it in herself to be jealous when she sees the lustre in cait’s blue eyes, one that’s only reserved for her, starts to come out whenever she’s around you but she does feel left out, after all, vi found you first

the two end up having a conversation and realise that they can’t live without you in their lives - all to themselves, that is

OK TIME FOR WHAT THEY’RE LIKE IN A RELATIONSHIP

honestly i think vi is the one you can wrap around your pinkie finger - she has such a soft spot for the people she loves and she’s not afraid of making it known

you want more treats? she’ll sneak them in

you want to go outside? ok, but vi is handcuffing you to her and you can only stay out for five minutes

surprisingly she respects your boundaries and tries not to be overly affectionate with you when you don’t want to be, even if it kills her inside

don’t think you can ask to talk to family and friends though, that’s completely off-limits and you will see a sadistic side to vi she doesn’t normally let out

i imagine her punishments would be something to the effect of her saying extremely cruel and upsetting things to you to remind you of your place

she would also be into physical punishments like spanking but not anything that could really hurt you - she would have a breakdown if she hurt you to the point of serious injury and would never forgive herself

cait on the other hand is essentially the “bad cop” in this scenario, it’s not that she doesn’t love you, in fact i would say she’s probably more obsessed than vi is, it’s that she doesn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you whatsoever

she went lax on punishing zaunites and it ended up with her mother dead - she’s not taking any risks when it comes to you

it harder to tell with cait but she does try to show her affection, it’s just not as obvious as the way she acts to vi

she does like to be physically affectionate with you more than vi does but this too is very subtle

she likes to make these actions seem like a necessity when really it’s for her own satisfaction

e.g. she’ll hold you hand and profess it’s because “you might fall over” even though you can see the faint blush on her cheeks - you’re both aware it’s a terrible lie but are equally too embarrassed to mention it

like in my other work, her shows of affection come from giving you books, painting lessons and expensive clothes, etc. - she wants to nurture your talents and expose you to the finer things in life that you’ve missed out on

she lowkey has a superiority complex when it comes to this lmao but i think she does it all to mask her deep insecurities

she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of her darling

her punishments are more harsh. i feel like she would put you in isolation and leave you hungry if you refuse to abide by her or vi’s rules

i hc that this stems from her childhood; her mother would withhold affection (maybe not to this extent) whenever she misbehaved and this way of thinking carried over to adulthood

this means that caitlyn and vi do tend to argue over what they think is best for you and it lowkey gives divorced parents energy - they’re constantly trying to prove themselves right

it’s a very volatile environment to be in

imo this is kinda cait and vi’s way of flirting too 😭 in the aftermath they look back on it like ‘awww she cares so much about our darling she’s willing to fight over them - so cute!’

their relationship stays mostly the same as it was before just a lil more intense

they’d both be yandere for each other, it just manifests a lot more strongly with you

like, they know they can look after themselves but you’re so weak they need to go above and beyond to ensure their most precious darling is safe

they both plan detailed daily routines for you and you’re micromanaged down to the smallest details: how long you can sleep for, the food you eat, the exercises you do, the clothes you wear, the people you can interact with

in my mind, this takes place at the end of s2 so you live with them in cait’s mansion - they’ve both experienced a LOT of trauma which contributes to them developing a codependent relationship and having to drag someone else into their mess

it’s definitely a stifling relationship and it feels like you’re never truly alone, if for some reason they can’t be there with you there’ll always be a trusted maid or enforcer keeping tabs on you

omg wait they definitely give you a diary and say it’s private but at the end of the night they’ll read through it to see if you’re planning anything they wouldn’t agree with

cait came up with the idea and vi thinks it’s a violation of your privacy but she goes along with it anyway

would never admit it but secretly it’s her favourite time of the day (if she respects your physical boundaries, she’s gotta break some other boundaries - give her a break!)

they just want to patch up the pain they feel from all the losses they’ve had to deal with and unfortunately for you, you’re their bandages

masterlist

#request #yandere!caitvi #yandere cait x reader #yandere vi x reader #yandere cait #yandere vi #arcane #arcane headcanon #yandere x reader #yandere #cait x reader #vi x reader #cait x reader x vi #cait x vi #arcane request

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lovifie · 9 months ago

Note

Villager!Reader and Villager!Ghost They're in love but their families are enemies...

Masterlist - Smut | Fluff | 3489 words

💚A Village Apart💚

The Riley family, and yours, have a history of feuds and quarrels going back years, decades, and if there were writings to back it up, centuries.

It is a small village, where houses are inherited and everyone knows each other. Therefore, all the inhabitants of the small village are aware of the enmity between the families.

And being such a quiet village, the amusement of many arises from taking one side of the families and criticising the other.

It is natural at this point in the story, and each generation that is born the rest of the village waits for the children of each to marry so that they can see how the story continues.

The Riley family earned their name and respect for their construction work in the village. Rare is the house that his family did not build.

Simon began working in his father's shadow almost as soon as he could walk, and as soon as he could carry weight, he became a bishop in his father's small army of builders.

It was not because he was the boss's son that he had it easier, some even say he was the one who had it harder.

It is a hard job, with admirable physical effort, but unfortunately, it left most of the workers without energy to enjoy the little free time they had after a long day's work.

Simon found a reason to keep a little extra energy reserve for when his day was over.

And that reason is you.

Your family is not as well known as his, well, everyone knows each other in the village; but yours is accorded less respect than his.

Unlike his, your family is humble, with enough cattle to feed the family and sell the leftovers when there are any.

It is a humble job, with difficult working hours, considerable physical effort and often little profit or reward.

But there is always food on the table and animals to look after; the people may not appreciate your family's work as much as they should, but the innocent animal eyes you look into every day make it worth it.

Another reason driving you on was Simon.

It was difficult at first, as you both knew it was a forbidden relationship. Your families had told you again and again to stay away from each other's families.

"They are women, Simon. We haven't worked as hard as we have to stoop to that level."

"They think they're better than everyone else for moving stones, sweetheart. You don't deserve that treatment."

"If they see you hanging out with her, the rest of the people in the village will think they have the right to talk to us like we're equals too."

"They're machines, honey. They're not capable of producing emotions those Riley's, you deserve better than someone obsessed with money like that."

But still, despite everything; it was impossible to avoid the sidelong glances as you passed each other walking through town.

When you went to mass, when you went to the village fairs, when friends in common met.

Normally, for a girl like you to meet boys would be frowned upon; but with the village being so small, they were the boys you played with years ago and it was an idiotic feeling to deny such good friendships.

Besides, they were the perfect excuse for you to see him when he joined the meetings; which, curiously enIt had nothing to do with the fact that he would ask before attending if you were going to be there.

Many times in the evening Simon would be exhausted from working all day, but if he was told that you were going to be there, there was no physical exhaustion that would prevent him from seeing you.

Many times he would be on the verge of falling asleep when they were gathered together, waiting for the chance to be able to walk you home.

"A young lady like you shouldn't have to go home alone."

"It's a couple of steps, Simon."

"Not if we follow my route."

"Your route?"

"Yes... Do you want me to show it to you?"

It turned out, knowing the structure of all the houses in the village, Simon knew perfectly well what route to follow that kept you hidden from the eyes of all the villagers.

The first night, it was pretty much just awkward silence. Both of you still internally debating whether it was worth the possible quarrel with your families just to meet the other person.

But the second night you got back together, the decision was made and the conversation flowed as if you were lifelong friends.

Innocent questions about each other's lives evolved into questions about each other's future plans,

You both decided to ignore the voice in your mind that told you not to continue, if anyone in the village, and God willing, anyone in your families, found out; a war would break out.

Your family was much more permissive than his, which meant that if you dared to associate with Simon, they would send you to a convent or marry you off to someone else.

You knew that those were the good options, you preferred not to think about what might happen to him.

It was easier to forget the possible consequences, especially when your hands brushed as you walked. When you felt the heat emanating from Simon's body, warming the side of your body that walked beside him. He walked slower, both so you could keep up effortlessly and to slow down the walk so he could spend more time with you.

In spite of everything, and knowing full well everything you stood to lose if it was discovered. It was during the harvest festival that Simon kissed you for the first time. Hidden in the barn of your family's farm, lying on the hay.

You were both lying down, with you on your back and your head resting on Simon's arm and him lying next to you on his side.

His other hand, the one not under you, rested delicately on your waist, pulling you close to him as if afraid you were going to run away.

His lips were full and warm on yours; a kiss almost innocent and overflowing with inexperience on both sides. Your hand slowly moved up to his jawline, stroking the nascent hair of his beard.

You were both pushing against each other, needing each other's touch and proximity. A mess of tongues to the point that you no longer knew whose was which, as your hands travelled up and down each other's body.

It is because of that proximity that you found it impossible to ignore as Simon's shaft grew in size and hardened against your thigh, the discreet hip movements seeking more friction and rubbing.

"Simon" You called out to him, panic invading your senses.

"Easy... I don't mean to do anything but kiss your lips, sweetheart. But I can't help it when I finally have you in my arms after so long dreaming about it."

And he kept true to his word, his hands never went beyond your hips nor were his lips more daring than kisses at the corner of your lips.

If you noticed moisture on your thigh on the side where he was, you said nothing. Nor did you mention the growing wetness between your legs.

But once you tasted the honey, you couldn't help but visit the hive.

Until then, it had been easy to avoid temptation; you didn't know the sweet sensation, the warmth of each other, the security of being together, the desire, the passion, the possibilities....

But you had to continue to be careful, you didn't know when someone could surprise you.

But when the innocent kisses in the barn turned into something more than kisses on the lips, you could easily expect the punishment you were facing.

"Simon, we can't" You moaned as you noticed Simon's hand move up from your ankle up towards your thigh underneath your dress.

"Why, why delay the inevitable when I know you're the one for me?" he murmured with his lips pressed against the skin of your neck, kissing you wetly and raising every hair on your body.

"But we can't..." You tried to insist, but no longer with any strength against his hand. "I must come pure to the marriage, Simon. Our parents would never forgive."

"Then let us marry, my love. Here and now. The moon and the stars as witnesses that I am yours far more than you will ever be mine, that I was born decades ago but not until I joined you did my heart begin to beat. Witnesses of my love, that there will not be a day that you wake up that is not in my arms, that there will not be a day that you wake up that you do not feel loved. That my work in this life will be to love you each and every day of it. That I don't care if I go thirsty and hungry every day if at nightfall it is your arms that pick me up, that there is no wound or blow that hurts me like when you reject me, when you take me away from you. Don't you realise, love? Don't you realise that I need you more than air? I promise you, my love. That if you accept me you will never ever regret it."

One kiss from your lips was all the answer I needed, the seal of the contract of your unorthodox union.

He kissed you back with the same fervour, a moan escaping his throat as he finally savoured you without thoughts in his mind that would take him away from you and the now.

He moved his hand under your dress, lifting your petticoats in the same way so he could reach your wet folds.

You whimper against his mouth, the touch of the man igniting something inside of you that was waiting asleep in the depth of your body. It is easy for his finger to slip inside between the folds, arching your back at the feeling of the intrusion.

You feel his lips on your jaw, travelling calmly to your ear where he stays professing his love for you, making you mewl when it mixes with the feeling between your legs.

“Simon!” You moan when he adds a second finger, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit sending a shockwave up your column

You are still surrounded by the feeling of prohibition, the tension of possible discovery with its corresponding punishment. But the sensation of Simon's fingers so deep inside you leaves your mind blurred and you can only moan in moans and whispers of his name, urging him to continue, to give you more, to love you as intensely as you love him.

Your self of mere weeks ago would drag you away from the farmer, scolding you for this lack of decorum, this promiscuity.

But then you look into Simon's eyes, and you doubt which shines brighter; the love that overflows from his eyes or the moon that shines from the window.

"You are the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever had the grace to glimpse, my darling." He says suddenly, forcing you to tug at his shirt to crash your lips to his so he doesn't see your blush.

The man who is normally so stoic, perfectly cordial but not saying a word beyond the obligatory. Suddenly turned into a poet in your presence.

If it weren't for his broad fingers caressing that spot inside you that you didn't know existed and that has you swaying your hips to receive his every wrist movement, you would think beyond the now. Of how you will continue this without anyone knowing, how you will continue together when you know perfectly well that none of your families will allow it.

But not now, now all you can think about is how good Simon makes you feel and how you need him to give you more.

You find it impossible to ignore as Simon continues to move his hips against your side, the hardness of his crotch obvious and pressed against your thigh.

You lower your hand, feeling it's only fair to return the favour; but before you even reach the waistband of his pants, Simon takes your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"Don't worry about it, love. I just want to make you feel good, don't worry about me." His lips travel up to your neck once more, leaving wet kisses and licking the spot that makes you cry harder.

There's a knot in the centre of your stomach, which becomes tighter and tighter as Simon continues to touch you. Your hand gripping his shirt squeezes tighter and tighter as the knot tightens.

Never before have you felt this sensation that has you with your face tight, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and your lip between your teeth to prevent a scream from escaping.

This is futile when you feel the knot suddenly loosen, feeling as if your body is drained of energy. Biting your lip proves useless in preventing the moan that escapes your lips before Simon presses his hand over your mouth to prevent the entire village from hearing you.

His hand continues to move, slowing and slowly slipping out of you; the wet sound it emits as it leaves once again causing your cheeks to flush.

"Simon... Let's do it... You said it, why delay the inevitable." You say, repeating his words.

He again touches his lips to yours, letting your bodies speak when you are at a loss for words.

You notice him moving, sitting up to kneel between your legs. He lifts your dress, leaving you completely exposed to him with your legs wrapped around his wide hips.

Your glistering folds shine on the moonlight calling him in, but the pain on his groin makes him selfish enough to limit himself to free his hard shaft from his pants, slightly slapping your sweet cunt with it.

It makes your legs shake and a whimper to leave your lips, desperation flooding from you as your hand goes down between your legs. Simon can't help but stare as your inexpert hand finds his tip making his shudder when you press it against your wetness.

His hips move involuntarily pushing himself between your hand and your folds, making his moan your name. His hands lands on your hips, physically stopping himself from moving more against you knowing perfectly fine he wouldn't last long.

There are already beads of his milky seed threatening to spill from his tip, but it is your hand the one that slowly pushes him lower until it catches on your entrance making the both of you shudder.

He looks at you, catching you looking back at him; last chance to pull back. But your hand moves to his hip, silently urging him forward and he gladly complies.

He slowly pushes in, his length getting engulfed inch by inch into your warm cunt making him whine in unison with you. The stretch makes you hiss just for a second before the juices make it easy for him to move.

He moves back and forth torturously slow, entering inch by inch, moaning when he finally bottoms out. The two of you need a moment to adjust; you to the feeling of getting filled to the brim and him to the feeling on your tight muscles choking him in.

Simon is no stranger to the feeling of his callous hand around his length, already used to the constricting feeling; but never in a thousand years would it compare fairly to the feeling of you around him.

You clench around him, desperate for his movement; but it sends him to bend forwards, his hands resting beside your head. But then he comes face to face with the image of you sprawled under him.

Your legs spread to adjust to his wide hips between them, your folds just as spread to let his girth into your core, your soft hands resting on his ribs to feel him close, your hair messy resting on the hay, eyes half closed blinded by the lust, lips glistering with the mix of saliva from both and cheeks blushed as if by the cold of the morning.

He realises then and there that you are the only thing he needs to survive. That he will fight and kill God himself if he dares to try and pull you away from him, let alone a mere mortal. That he will love you for as long as you love him, and that when you stop doing it he will make you fall in love with him again. That he will travel to the deepest level of hell and back if Death feared to steal you from him.

His hips begin to move, making you arch your back when he finally does and it urges him to compose himself only to manage to feel you come undone around his length.

He has a clumsy rhythm to it, voluntary and involuntary thrust mixing together in a weird dance but still consistent enough to make you feel the knot on your stomach tighten again.

He feels it too, when you start to clench around his length. Softly crying his name as your hands move down to his thighs, urging him to move closer, deeper.

He sees how you close your eyes, head falling back with your mouth open in a silent cry with your wet cunt choking harder and harder his shaft, until you finally breathe out, a moan loud enough to awaken the dead from the tomb and wetness making his way around his length when you finally fall over the edge.

Simon barely has enough control to pull out, the first dribble of his milky sticky spent falling on your pubes before he spurt thick and heavy over your stomach; the change from you welcoming cunt to his dry hand almost keeping him from coming.

He looks down, his seed painting your body, marking you his, soft abdomen moving up and down with your difficulted breathing from the orgasm pulled from you.

“Do you really love me, Simon?” You suddenly ask, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The fear of the consequences finally setting in on your minds now that lust is no longer driving it.

“I do, love. I love you more than anything on this land.” He says, still breathless as he bends down to kiss you again.

Tomorrow, when you meet across the church; the two of you will act as if you didn't know each other. You will ignore the dull pain between your legs and he will ignore the pull of his pants when he remembers how pretty you looked under him.

Every other night the two of you will meet, back in the barn. Professing love and exploring each other's bodies.

And in a couple of months, when you come crying to him, holding onto his shirt; about how your father has told you that he is marrying you to another man. He will hug you, consoling you, and tell you to meet again two days later.

When he will arrive, in his father's cart being pulled by his two better horses; and the two of you will disappear from the village at the crack of dawn, never to be seen again.

In the village there were no more arguments between the families, both ashamed that they lost their kid to their stubbornness. That if instead of fighting they would have supported the two of you, they would have met their grandkids years later and the eternal fight between the families would have ended in a love story.

Instead, Simon and you settled down far away from the village. Where nobody knew where any of you were, and where everyone was told to address you as Mrs. Riley. Where you build your home and your family, and you both lived happily ever after

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koiiiji · 10 months ago

Text

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)

warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢

thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)

thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.

wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*

kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹

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kingkat12 · 24 days ago

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mistletoe (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, dumbification, mature themes, manipulation, toxic relationship, sorta uncomfortable oops, is Roman using his powers or not?, angsty fluff

summary: one week of repeated quarrels brew down to a heated conversation at a Christmas party... will Roman be able to convince you he knows what's best for you?

word count: 1,536

a/n: hey again!<33 i wanted something cute and Christmas-y, but damn... this is far away from that. I doubt Roman likes Christmas at all anyway, so I couldn't bring myself to write something fluffy omg. read at your own discretion, love u<33 merry christmas!!!

"... You hung it up there on purpose,"

"I didn't," Roman said, smirking down at me as he pointed at the mistletoe above us. Evil man, cornering me in the doorway to the empty kitchen. "This is fate. You have to kiss me now."

Under any other circumstance, I would've been a blushing mess. I might've indulged the banter, I might've already dragged him down to my level and kissed him, but alas-- I didn't have it in me. Not after we had been bickering for a whole week. "Since when were you an avid participant in tradition?" I snarked, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared up at my tall boyfriend. "You hate everything else, but this mistletoe-stuff is acceptable to you?"

Roman rolled his eyes, snapping out of his feigned indulgence. "You're being difficult,"

"And you're yet to apologize!"

"Come on!" Roman let out a big huff, pointing at the sweater he had been forced to wear to this party hosted by my friends; the theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I bought him one that was just perfect. Seeing the big, bad Roman Godfrey in a reindeer sweater with a red nose that lit up when you booped it was a consolation prize after our quarrels this week. "Look at the shit I do for you, okay? Now stop giving me grief and kiss me!"

Had I not been wearing heels, I would've probably stomped my foot like a toddler-- "No! I'm still mad at you!"

"For what?" he snapped, his green gaze narrowing with his next words; "For that thing I said about your friends?"

What a stupid question. "Obviously!"

Roman let out a patronizing laugh as he rolled his eyes, reaching up to touch the mistletoe above us in the doorway. "They do suck,"

"They do not!"

"They come up with humiliating Christmas sweater parties, and on top of that, they suck,"

Fucking hell. Dating Roman was impossible at times. I glanced around, making sure no one was around to hear this conversation-- I doubted my friends would be happy to hear this coming out of his mouth. "And you think I'm the biggest fan of Peter?" I hissed, turning to face my boyfriend again. "He keeps reciting Romeo and Juliet and claiming he wrote the passages! He's crazy too!"

That seemed to strike a nerve with Roman; "Hey!"

"Hey right back at you!"

"At least he's nice!"

"My friends are nice too!--"

"No, they suck!" Roman leaned down to my level; he scanned the annoyed look on my face as he took a step forward, forcing my back up against the doorframe. "You know they hate me, right?" he said, lowering his voice.

My eyes rounded out, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest. "They don't," I tried not to sound so meek, but it turned out to be impossible. I couldn't bring myself to raise my voice at Roman now that he was so close, now that his breath was falling hot against my cheek.

He tilted his head to the side, sending me the condescending look I knew all too well. "You're so naive," he whispered. "They talk shit about me, and they talk shit about you. Do you know why I've been so pissed at you all week? It's because you can't stand up for yourself when it comes to those bitches!"

I didn't want to hear it. I really, really didn't. "Roman--"

"They walk all over you, do you not see it?!"

Angry tears were welling up in my eyes; "Stop it!--"

"You think I want you to be around people like that? Don't you think I want what's best for you?"

"You don't know what's best for me!" I hissed, deciding to get back up in his face. Roman was pissing me off more and more by the minute. "You control every other aspect of my life, and I let you, but not this one! My friends are my territory, and I need to have some autonomy here!"

It was true-- I liked turning my brain off around Roman. I liked that he had money, that he drove me everywhere, that he paid someone else to get my homework done, that he paid for my manicures, because why should I not allow myself the luxury? He got off on it, anyway. It drove him absolutely mad, gave him a high to doll me up and parade me around. So yes, I allowed him control of almost every part of my life, but not this one. I had to be able to make one good choice, no? Or was my brain already too far gone, too fried by pleasantries to function?

Roman's green eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. He let out a sharp breath, visibly growing angrier by the second. However, he contained it with bitten-down words; "And you know why you're so happy to give me control? Because deep down, you're aware that you make bad choices,"

"I don't!--"

"You do,"

Every piece of my self-worth was crumbling at his feet. I let it all sink in, and allowed myself to chew and process the truth he was serving me; Roman was painfully right. I had never been the best at making any choice of any sort. I wasn't sure why my lower lip was quivering with my next quiet words; "But... I like my friends,"

Roman sighed, eyes softening at the sight of me. "I know," he cooed, reaching forward to stroke his thumb across my cheek. "But I'll find you some new ones, okay? Let me deal with it for you."

I didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to fight this-- Roman's eventual occupation of my whole life, and his need to conquer every piece of me. There was something about the spark in the green of his eyes, the hidden fire behind his innocent, sweet words that I innately liked, anyway.

Roman made me feel dumb.

So unbelievably brainless.

... Because maybe I was?

I let my inner monologue die out, go into static noise, as Roman's hand went into the hair at the nape of my neck. He twisted his fingers harshly into my locks as he grinned against my lips-- He had won. Fucking Napoleon. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he cooed. "You don't ever have to see any of these people again, I'll make sure you don't."

Maybe that was for the best?

Roman knew better than me, anyway. Roman was smart.

I was nothing compared to him.

Nothing.

Roman's eyes sparkled with glee at the sight of the wreck he had made out of me. Finally, after one week of planting seeds of doubt in my mind, he had gotten through to my psyche. "What do you say we get out of here, hm?"

I nodded, trying not to hiss as his fist in my hair tightened. Now, I couldn't move-- I was forced to look straight into his eyes, unable to escape his gaze.

"Gonna fuck you real nice for being such a good girl," Roman whispered, brushing his bottom lip against mine as I let out a shaky breath. "How many times do you want to cum tonight? I'll do it all for you, don't be shy."

I so desperately hoped no one was hearing this conversation. However, it hit me that it didn't matter; I wouldn't see these people again. Roman would make sure of that. "Two?" I tried, not sure what to answer. He got so intense sometimes, it made me weak at the knees with discomfort.

Roman tsked, grinning; "I think we can shoot higher. Let's say three,"

Who was I to deny myself such pleasure? "Okay," I breathed, feeling my cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Nonetheless, I made a point out of getting up on my tippytoes to get closer to his face. "Roman?"

He seemed as amused as ever; "Yeah?"

"Did you still want that kiss?"

Roman glanced up at the mistletoe, momentarily letting out a short laugh. I was sure he had forgotten about it. "You bet," Roman murmured, glancing back down at me before leaning down, nudging my nose with his as an invitation.

I smiled as joy coursed through my veins-- I knew I was in good hands. Roman knew how to take care of me properly, much better than I ever could myself.

It took me about a second before I realized I was leaning in.

Two seconds to realize Roman's soft lips were on mine with the gentlest touch known to man.

And three to realize I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Someone who kisses like this couldn't ever want anything bad to happen to me, right? His motives couldn't be selfish-- no, that was impossible. Roman's kisses were merely touches of utter love, kisses to ease me, disarm me, and push me into the right path of submission. Every brush of the soft pillows of his lips against mine was the equivalent of a verbal confession of love.

As I pulled him closer, mentally thanking the person who hung up the mistletoe here, I saw red lights shine through my closed lids-- I smiled into the kiss, realizing we had set off the red reindeer nose of his sweater.

This is what I was made for.

This was who I was made for.

Roman-- only Roman.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #christmas oneshot #hemlock grove fanfiction #bill skarsgård fanfiction #this is so problematic omg #i have no idea what came over me #oh well #i miss posting!!!

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ronhazmione · 2 months ago

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Thinking about Harry who’s only friends were spiders, who never had any friends of his own because of Dudley’s bullying and who was avoided because of his dirty hand-me-downs, and Hermione who didn’t feel like she could connect to people and isolated herself with books and felt alone because people were intimidated with her intelligence and thought she was obnoxious for being outspoken, and Ron who never had any friends of his own and always felt like a spare and like an afterthought to his brothers, finding friendship in each other and realizing they didn’t have to change or diminish any parts of themselves and truly accepting one another,

They mean so much to me, the way they can just sit in silence with each other and just exist is so precious to me, the idea of them hanging out is just doing homework next to each other in the common room, occasionally taking walks to the lake and hogsmeet and sipping butter while gossiping, Ron copying Hermiones notes while Harry struggles to write his potions essay, Hermione grumbling while Ron and Harry make up random predictions for divination, Harry petting crookshanks while Ron and Hermione play chess… they’re so 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽😭😭

It’s also the way they’re incomplete without the other,

Ron is the joy/humor in the trio and when he’s not there you can see the happiness and joy leave Hermione and Harry, the way they mope at the library quietly because they don’t know how to start conversation without Ron and miss the way he grounds them to normal life where they can just be Ron, Harry, and, Hermione and not have to hide behind personas to please other people,, Hermione needing someone to contradict her and threat her just like a normal person and so she can be challenged to think past what she already knows who needs Ron to challenge her thinking and push her beyond her usual intelligence and Harry who needs Ron to remind when what truly matters and to validate how he’s feeling and making him laugh when his whole world feels like falling apart

Harry who is the perspective/clarity when Ron and Hermione get too caught up to look at the big picture, Romione who constantly fight and nitpick the tiniest details even to their own detriment, and can keep grudges like it’s a professional sport not wanting but needing Harry to remind them about the important things in life and keeping them on the right track even when they lose themselves in the forest and wander off path. But he also lets them wander off the path and goof around, Ron and Hermione who need Harry because Harry looks at them like they are is whole world, no matter how ridiculous they act and how stubborn they are to prove they’re right and win whatever argument they’re having, and Harry will let them because he doesn’t care about it as long they’re happy, Harry will go the library even when he doesn’t want to, he’ll sneak into Hogsmeet to see them, He’ll go through hell and back if it meets he can go back to them, Harry indulges they’re silliness because he loves them unconditionally, they are his family

Hermione who is clearly the logic and knowledge in the trio, Ron needs her to humble him and Harry needs Hermione because unlike Ron reminds Harry that he doesn’t have to anything other than Harry, Hermione pushes Harry to be a better version of himself and truly find his confidence. Ron and Harry are so aimless without her, yes they get along but they need her because she reminds them to never overlook anything and always looks out for her younger friends, she reminds them to finish their homework and to not do anything that could get them into trouble. Ron and Harry can be so dismissive of their own health but Hermione reminds them to take care of themselves

They’re so realistic too, they way they fight and bicker but always come though for each other,

Golden trio is important to me because they never leave each other, yes they fight and quarrel but they always come back, they care so so much about each other <33 they truly do provide a safe space for each other where they can truly be themselves,, They find each other in every life

#harry james potter #golden trio #golden triad #ron weasley #hermione granger #romionarry #tani rambles

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fushitoru · 2 months ago

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geto lore in the bridgerton au is crazyyyyyyy ‼️‼️ (gently asking for more if you’re up to it 🥺🥺)

omg nonnie ily for this ask thank you for letting me yap

geto is a lady KILLER. whenever he enters a brothel, prostitutes are throwing themselves at him, and all the eligible ladies in the ton would KILL to be wed to him. unfortunately, geto has not secured a match (yet!). while gojo also attracts a lot of ladies, geto attracts even more despite only being the heir to viscount. if im going to be honest, geto's also gotten action with men at some orgies but stopped because he was scared of getting caught.

he's a sweet talker, very charismatic, but he's kind of like gojo in that he's looking for someone capable but within reason. he doesn't see himself falling in love but would be open to it.

when he went on his tour of europe, he did in fact appreciate art. bridgerton!geto is very artsy, and he would go to art school if he wasn't the eldest son. regardless, he enjoys composing poems.

he's also a hopeless romantic. he dreams of sneaking into his future love's room late at night by climbing a tree, reciting sonnets just like romeo. but no one would know this, geto is a bit private even with his friends (gojo would tease the fuck out of him).

gojo and geto are best friends ever since they both became eligible and started to see each other on hunts. they were easily the best and the strongest, forming a relationship.

he respects nanami a lot because nanami is very rational, mature, and a much needed break from gojo. they met because the geto family and nanami family are close. their mothers share tea at least once a week! however, he is likely to join gojo in an endeavor to prank nanami.

geto didn't really agree with gojo's assessment of miss itadori at all. he thinks you are smarter, more cunning, and more dangerous than you let on. it kind of amuses him because gojo's usually very adept at reading people but he definitely misread you. it kind of makes him intrigued---he thinks gojo was overwhelmed with some sort of emotion for him to be so wrong about you. he also thinks that you and gojo make a good match.

geto also REALLLYYY likes tea. like he loves to gossip. he gossips a lot with his mother over tea, and he is actually anticipating going to the gojo manor, as is the rest of the ton, to see what the result was of your early visit. he's also not above involving himself in the tea. is this a bad quality or good one? we'll find out. perhaps even through him getting involved in you and gojo's quarrels

#aashi answers #bridgerton!gojo

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goldenroutledge · 2 years ago

Text

intimidated

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: you’re there for jj when it matters most. (inspired by this post)

warning(s): sprinkles of angst, but fluffy in the end.

a/n: the song i had in mind while writing this was intimidated by kaytranada & h.e.r <3

jj maybank masterlist

JJ Maybank didn’t need handouts. As he told it, his independence was his most valuable asset. It’s what made him a pogue through and through. “Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish?”— An Epictetus quote JJ scribbled down, bored as ever in his freshman English class. His life motto condensed into twelve simple words, whether his newfound ‘freedom’ was out of his control or not. Either way, he played the cards he was dealt.

His friends— no, scratch that— his family, were his escape to comfort. A soft, pillowy landing from the nose dive that was his life. A foreign concept to him until he met John B, then Pope, then Kiara, then you. A refuge of safety, ironically enough, given the many times you all had looked death in the face.

Even though the pogues had already started wearing matching friendship bracelets that Kiara made by the time you came along, it was a smooth transition when you were welcomed into the group with open arms. By some more than others at first, given your kook status. But just as they’d embraced Kie, your initiation into the group was no different.

While it took time for JJ in particular to come around, his reservations were understandable. At first, you gave him his space and he gave you yours. Always letting him set the tone and lead the way.

As time went on, JJ soon decided he wouldn’t mind having you around him all the time, there was no going back. JJ loved to the point of no return, and it was incomparable to anything— or how anyone else could ever make you feel.

At times, he felt like that was all he had to offer. Nothing but fierce loyalty and protection over the ones he loves most. But you. To JJ, you were the fine line between hideaway and heaven itself. Even if he thought he may not end up there, he was sure that it would be you he’d meet at heaven’s gates.

Amongst any conflict or tension within the group, you always provided a safe haven for him to retreat to, though he had difficulty admitting it. In a way you had a solution for everything. Keeping tensions low and spirits high in the process. You were the original peacemaker of the group, before his precious gun came along.

Right now, it was almost all he could think about while he sat there, beer in hand, listening to John B and Sarah argue in the distance. How he wishes you were here, to ease his nerves and settle the anxiety simmering in his chest.

JJ hated this. He hated that nobody seemed to get along anymore. With all that was going on with the others, he wouldn’t even think to mention his problems. The looming eviction notice on his house, one of few things he had left on this island. While everyone’s lives continued to progress, JJ’s was at a standstill. No job, no parents, and now his friend group was falling apart at the seams. And with everyone else occupied these days, he was alone.

JJ, selfless as usual, would hate to bother you, no matter how badly he wanted to. He knew you’d have some inspirational shit to say to him. Though he’d poked fun at it sometimes, he’d never needed anything more right now.

The sound of footsteps came before JJ saw them, watching Sarah storm off and away from John B as he stood there, tense and silent.

JJ could be hot headed at times, that was no secret. He could understand his friends' quarrels to an extent. But he couldn’t look past the fact that you all were supposed to be sticking together, especially right now. When he said that nothing good could happen once you all returned to Kildare, he knew he was right. Call it a gut feeling.

Naturally, Sarah told you everything. Confidant, mom-friend, advisor— all titles bestowed upon you by your close group of friends over the years. You’d always tried to be as neutral as possible in times of conflict. Though in matters of the heart it was nearly impossible.

Days after her fight with John B, she found herself laying on your bed, venting all of her bottled up frustrations about him and the state of their relationship.

“I’m a mess, Y/n. I feel like such a mess.”

You looked at her sympathetically, knowing there wasn’t much you could do. Just listen, just be there in her time of need.

“So, I took my bag from the Chateau and I left. Kie’s parents told me I couldn’t stay, then I went to JJ’s and he wasn’t home. He’s working at Guffy’s again last I heard.”

You briefly glanced up at the mention of JJ’s name— and it didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah. Instead of divulging about it, she continued her rant.

“Then I was just wandering around, because it’s not like I had anything better to do. And who sees me drinking at Tiki Bar? Topper.”

“Topper?”

“Topper.”

You internally cringed at the mention of the Thornton boy. He was always nice when you saw him, nothing bad nor good to say about him. But you knew deep down he was Sarah’s achilles heel. He reminded her of everything she once had, the person she once was. Lately, you couldn’t help but crave some normalcy too.

“So.. what happened?”

She sighs heavily, dropping her hand across her eyes. “We went to Mase.”

“Alone?”

“We went with some people from KDC. The old crew, Kelce, Phoebe…”

“Is that it?”

“We made out.”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in fear of your reaction, knowing it’d probably show on your face before anything.

“Oh.” You swallowed back any judgment you might’ve had, compartmentalizing your love for John B and choosing to hear Sarah out. “And how do you feel about it?”

“Awful. I mean Topper has been so good to me lately with everything going on, he’s always there to pick up the pieces and I just feel bad. It was a mistake.”

“It can’t happen again, y’know. Not if you want to work it out with John B.”

“I do, I wanna work it out with him.” She urged. “And then the next morning we had breakfast. Kie came into the restaurant and saw us together and I think she got the wrong message. She said she’s staying out of it but I can tell what she’s thinking.” Sarah takes a deep inhale, and a deep exhale to follow. “What do I do, Y/n?”

It still baffles you at times that you’ve become the voice of reason. You hope Sarah doesn’t notice that you feel uneasy about the whole thing. “Just… be honest. Don’t let John B find out from anyone other than you. He’s gonna be upset but he has a right to be.”

The blonde sits up, crawls over to you and envelopes you into her arms. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Sun reflected brightly off the boats docked at the marina, the two smoothie cups in your hand sweating from the sweltering heat. Your family's boat was kept here at Guffy’s; particularly when your parents weren’t in town to cruise around the island and daydrink with their kook friends.

At least you had an alibi, just in case you happened to run into JJ. The two medium strawberry banana smoothies you carried might need some explanation, though.

Ever since you all had made it back to the island, JJ had been hard to track down. He was rarely in one place for too long. So where else better to catch him than at work?

“Y/n? How are you doing today?” Billy questions from a distance away, putting on his friendliest smile for the daughter of his best clients.

“Can’t complain. Happy to be back.”

“And it’s good to have you back. Everything alright with the boat?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine, I just realized I left behind my favorite sunglasses.” You explained, hoping your excuse sounded authentic enough.

“Alright. You take care, now.”

“Actually… I was wondering is JJ around?”

“Maybank? He was here a few days ago.”

“Hm, I could’ve sworn he was working today.”

Billy sighs, eyebrows furrowing. “Listen, Ms. Y/l/n, I know you want to advocate for your boyfriend and all but JJ can’t work here.”

Confusion spread through your features this time as you genuinely had no idea what the man was getting at. You chose to not correct him when he’d mistaken you for JJ’s girlfriend.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid. I know he wants the job back but Guffy put a pin in it. I’m sorry. Really not much I can do.”

You forced a polite smile on your face as the dots connected, remembering the melting smoothie you held in your left hand while your half-finished one remained in your right. The two of you exchanged brief goodbyes before you quickly left the marina.

If JJ really hadn’t been working at Guffy’s again, where the hell was he? His act of disappearing was unmatched, but so was your skill of guessing.

If a game of hide-n-seek is what he wanted, a game of hide-n-seek is what he will get.

Grass brushed against your ankles as you approached JJ’s home, your steps careful as you looked around for him.

Going to JJ’s home was forbidden. When Luke was around, that is. He was a phantom— an ugly, dark presence looming over the quaint home that would otherwise feel serene. The chirping birds in the trees couldn’t tell the difference.

You haven't been here many times. The times you had been here weren’t anything you nor JJ wanted to remember. The feeling of uncertainty creeped into your mind from your past visits. You never knew what to expect.

To your left, there was a beautiful, never-ending view of the water past the grass of the Maybank’s yard. You hadn’t noticed that before. This spot had probably seen some beautiful sunsets. In a moment of imagination, you almost pictured sitting there with JJ on the plush green, hand in hand, watching the warm hues of the sky melt into a dark night.

The caution tape wrapping around the wood of the house caught your interest as you made your way onto the porch, also noticing the eviction letter left on the door, moving closer for a better look.

“Y/n?”

JJ called out, appearing from around the corner of his home, startling you out of concentration as you re-read the notice again and again.

As if you didn’t come over to finally see him in the first place. Though you couldn’t speak— for once unsure of what to say. ‘Sorry you’re getting evicted?’, it just didn’t sound right. Then again it might’ve been better than standing frozen and staring at him, silently, like you were doing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- um…. I brought you a smoothie.”

You held out the cup, approaching him and handing it to him. He stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows furrowed. His lips eventually pursed into a smile as a way to say thank you. This wasn’t the relaxed JJ you were accustomed to; nonetheless he was still the JJ you loved.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. The smoothie.”

“You came all the way out here from your mansion on Figure 8 to bring me a smoothie?”

“What?” You scoffed, his tone dictating where the conversation was headed. Most likely nowhere.

“Go back to reading by your pool or something. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I haven’t heard from you in days, JJ. I’m just checking up on you.”

“So what? You touring around the Cut now? Delivering smoothies to lost pogues? Is Heyward’s your next stop?”

He resumed tinkering with his bike, and from the looks of it he was working rather aggressively— desperate to distract himself from the conversation at hand.

“I miss my best friend. Am I not allowed to miss you anymore? I mean it’s not like we were stranded on an island together… not knowing whether we would live or die!”

“Well, we’re not exactly a big happy family right now. You should know that.”

“Yeah. John B and Sarah are on some kind of break. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see you, that doesn’t have anything to do with us. I thought we were past the whole picking sides thing.”

“I’ve been busy.” JJ shrugs.

“Busy working? At the job you lied about having?”

His eyes snapped to yours immediately. Your heart clenched as soon as the words left your mouth, you didn’t mean to go too far. But at least you had his attention.

“What, are you stalking me now? Or did you hire a P.I. to figure that out?”

“Hilarious, JJ. I was at the marina earlier to grab something off my boat. Actually hoping I would run into you but, whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

A few moments of awkward silence lingered between the two of you, as you kicked a pebble around with your foot.

“I know you don’t owe me anything… but you could’ve just told me.”

He paused his movements, thinking about how he was going to respond.

“Tell you what? That I prefer mixed berry over strawberry banana?” He jested, smiling to himself.

“I’m not talking about the smoothie, idiot.”

His eyes drifted over to his home, knowing exactly what you were thinking, just afraid to acknowledge it.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Y/n.”

“And I know that. I just wanna help you, however you’ll let me.”

“Well, you can help me by not helping me. I’ll figure it out. Always do.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here.”

At that, he dropped his tools, running tense hands through his hair. “But you aren’t here! You don’t have to live like this and you should be glad that you don’t!”

He raised his voice at you, frustrated. JJ was never good at putting his feelings into words, especially when it came to actually expressing them.

He didn’t know how he could tell you about everything. The worst day he’s ever had, the lowest he’s ever been. He couldn’t see a way in which he could tell you all of it and carry on the same. You were always a constant in his life. He needed it to stay that way, by any means necessary.

“That doesn’t make sense, JJ. What’s the point of having anything nice if I can’t share it with the people I love?”

The both of you were taken aback at what your explanation implied. In actuality, it took all of your power not to say those three words to him outright. But you couldn’t, not like this.

“You don’t have to pretend to care that much. I’m sure you can find another community service project to focus on.”

“Community service?” You chuckled emptily, baffled at his ridiculousness, though deep down you knew this was how he dealt with things. He simply didn’t know anything other than defensiveness. “That’s what you think this is?”

JJ closed his eyes in exasperation, wishing this conversation away. He could hear it in your voice, your feelings were hurt. Maybe not as bad as when your 8th grade crush asked someone else to the Valentine’s dance— but even a little was too much.

“If you’re gonna reduce our decade of friendship to me doing charity work, I guess there’s no changing your mind. I’m just wasting my breath.”

The words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize instantly, but now he wasn’t sure if his apologies were something you’d wanna hear at the moment. He wasn’t sure if you’d believe him.

For all the disingenuous apologies he’d accepted over the years, he’d hate to put you on the receiving end of one. Even if his heart truly was in the right place, JJ couldn’t muster up the courage to show it.

“You don’t have to antagonize me. Because everything you’re blaming me for, it isn’t my fault. Just like this isn’t your fault either.” You gestured to the eviction notice at his door.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “You’re right.”

“Say what you want about me, but I just wanna know that you’re okay. And if it’s an apology you’re looking for, you’re not gonna get it. I’ll never apologize for that.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. All he could do was try to understand.

Realizing he had no further comments, you turned your back to leave.

“Will I see you at the Chateau tomorrow?” You asked over your shoulder, hope remaining in your voice despite the uneasiness that remained between you two.

“Don’t count on it.”

“Alright, well… bye.”

JJ waves, before muttering a monotone ‘thanks for the smoothie’ as he watches you go.

Since returning to the island, it was an unspoken thing that you all were to meet up at the Chateau at some point. And with all the new developments in your lives lately, these meetings were much needed.

Pope handed you a beer as he came into John B’s living room, opening one of his own as he sat down beside you.

John B and Sarah seemed to be laying low, but it was clear they were back together or had come to some sort of resolution.

Kiara was going on about how much shit her parents had been giving her lately. They’d been hovering— watching over their daughter’s every move from the moment she set foot on the island again.

Pope told the group about how Cleo had won over Heywar in record time, much faster than John B or JJ. Pope’s parents simply wanted the best for him, and knew that the danger and mischief his friends came with couldn’t be productive.

“We’ve been best friends for what…? 13 years?” John B recalls. “And your dad can hardly stand the sight of me but Cleo won him over in a few minutes? How?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not at all.” John B holds his hands up in surrender to Cleo, Pope smirking beside her as he witnesses the interaction. “Just confused.”

“I have many superpowers, John.”

“Apparently! Winning over Heyward is like, unheard of in this group. At least for JJ and me.” John B explains, sipping his beer.

“Speaking of, where’s he at?”

At the shift in conversation, you can feel several pairs of eyes fall upon you. All you can do is act as normal as possible, tipping off any of your friends always ends badly in the case of keeping a secret. Until the cat’s out of the bag, your friends will make it their personal mission to reveal whatever it is you’re hiding.

You raised your eyebrows, pretending to only catch onto their stares moments later. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“No reason. It’s not like you guys are secretly together or anything.” Pope mutters under his breath, catching a glare from you at his false claim.

“We’re not. I wouldn’t know where he is.”

John B hisses, pretending to shiver. “Is it a little chilly in here? Or is that just Y/n’s cold shoulder?”

You roll your eyes, further proving his point until Sarah chimes in, pondering if she should speak up about what she knows.

“I actually stopped by JJ’s the other day. He.. wasn’t home.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t he go fishing? Probably not back yet.” John B remembers.

“I don’t think he’ll be going home anytime soon.”

At this your eyes meet Sarah’s hazel ones, full of hesitation. You shoot her a look of ‘whatever you’re about to say, don’t’, and you hope she is wise enough to pick up on it.

“Why is that?” Kiara questions, confused.

“He got evicted.” Sarah blurts, regret spreading through her expression as she sees you react; you don’t react. And that slightly terrifies her.

“Really?” Pope asks in disbelief, though not too surprised. More so disappointed that his best friend had to endure this, silently at that.

“Yeah. When was the last time anyone’s heard from him?”

The group silently recollects for a few moments, Kie pulls out her phone to review her latest texts with the man in question.

Instead, you’re wondering how the hell Sarah even knew about this to begin with. How long could she know about this and just stay silent? Forget not telling the group, how long could she keep this from you? How could she not help her friend who was clearly in need of support?

“How long have you known?”

Sarah appears confused, wondering where your line of questioning is coming from.

“I- uh. After John B and I fought I went there, remember Y/n? I was hoping I could stay but he wasn’t home. That’s when I saw the eviction notice.”

“And you waited, I don’t know, a week to bring that up?”

“Y/n, it’s not like I intentionally kept this from you, okay? We know how protective you are over JJ.”

Her words strike a cord within you, already on edge regarding JJ Maybank because of your argument with him the day prior. It was still a sore subject, even more so made by having no one to confide in about it.

“It’s not about that, Sarah. You didn’t even have to tell anyone at all but you didn’t think to maybe find out if he’s okay? At the very least?”

“I was a bit homeless at the time, Y/n, sorry about that.”

“Oh, right. You were too busy hooking up with Topper to care about the well-being of our best friend? Good to know the bare minimum is impossible for you.”

Sarah scoffs, John B shakes his head in exasperation. Kiara stays silent mostly, being no stranger to your and Sarah’s sister-like fights. She couldn’t even disagree with you, though with her parents keeping her on lockdown it was hard to do anything about it. She wasn’t in a place to have an opinion.

Pope and Cleo shared looks, communicating wordlessly as they had grown to do. Being away at Heyward’s kept them out of the loop quite a bit.

“JJ will figure it out, Y/n. Relax.” John B reassured. Though he was defending his girlfriend, now that they were in a ‘good place’ again, you felt anything but reassured at his carelessness around the subject. You’d think of all of you, John B would understand the most.

“Relax? Why should I relax if JJ is in trouble? If anything, you’re too relaxed!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you don’t have to take it out on Sarah, this isn’t even her fault! Not all of us want to fight your battles.”

“If you had any sense left you’d realize this isn’t about me. This is about our friend, who I thought we all cared about. At least enough to share this kind of news. We’re talking about his well-being here, I mean he’s losing the house he grew up in and nobody seems to care about that?”

“If he wanted us to know, he’d tell us.”

“Like he’s ever going to do that! You know better than anyway that he won’t!”

“It’s not my problem.”

“Mhm. It’s a shame JJ’s busy solving all of yours.”

“Y/n, please. Can we just have a chill night?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his ‘best friend since the third grade?’ Because you don’t fucking act like it.” You huffed, standing up to get rid of your beer can. At this point you were rambling to yourself, more than okay with the group hearing what you really thought about them and their carelessness for the situation.

“Indeed. Which is why I don’t need to force him to tell me shit, okay?”

“Why are you such an asshole, John B?”

“Y/n, I just found my dad. So, excuse me if JJ’s living situation isn’t at the forefront of my mind.”

“I never said it had to be, but you’re acting like you don’t even care!”

“I do care! We all do!” John B shouts. “And maybe if you’d let up on him he’d actually come to you about this stuff!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, maybe JJ would give you the love you so desperately crave if you weren’t fucking suffocating him.”

“John B!” Kiara warns.

Sarah held her face in her hands, knowing John B had crossed the line. Maybe he had one too many beers in his system. Either way, hell was about to break loose. And when it came to JJ, hell hath no fury like you did.

Your head felt like it was about to explode. How could your friends seem to be so comfortable with this? The same friends that claimed to leave no pogue behind, to never turn their back on one of their own.

If that was true, then what was this? From the looks of it, nobody even pretended to give a damn.

“You’re fucking terrible, John B. This isn’t even about me at all! You just can’t stop deflecting from what a shitty friend you are. I mean, JJ would die for literally every last one of you guys. And he almost did! On multiple occasions! But instead you’re gonna neglect the one person who's seen you through all your bullshit and as soon as it’s over you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened? Like the Earth is back on its axis? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, John B. That’s just not- that’s not something you do to someone you love.”

There wasn’t a need to announce your departure, as it was so quiet inside that you could hear your own breathing.

As hard as it was to fight with John B like that, you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted off your chest. Your spirit was lighter. It was therapeutic, really. So therapeutic you felt peaceful enough to go home and take the longest nap ever recorded, maybe in John B’s own hammock just to prove a point.

Entranced in your own thoughts, you didn’t even register JJ resting in the hammock himself, hands intertwined behind his head. Not asleep, but wondering what your next words will be. The walls of the Chateau were thin enough, echoes of your voices amplified by the open windows.

He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t notice his presence or if you were flat out ignoring him, walking past like he was invisible. Testing the waters, he called out from behind you.

“I never really thanked you for the smoothie.”

You froze in your tracks, face heating up and muscles tensing at the thought of the argument he probably just heard and decided not to barge in on.

“It’s alright. Wasn’t looking for praise.”

JJ met you halfway, taking note of your tired eyes and your feet dragging against the grass.

“So, what? You’re picking fights for me now?”

“You heard?”

“I think Ward Cameron heard. All the way from Guadalupe.”

“Stop it.” You warned, cracking a smile for a split second. JJ was good at that. Making you smile no matter the circumstances. “I stand up against injustice. That’s all.”

“Then are you still mad at me?”

“About what?”

“Yesterday. The whole… note on door situation.”

“Could never be mad at you, JJ. Especially not about that.”

He softly smiles, one that you return. It’s been a long time since you’d shared a small moment like this. Too long.

He gestures for you to come closer and slide into his arms as he’d held them out for you, just like you belong there.

“I am sorry, though.” JJ mumbles the words softly, almost into the crook of your neck as if he was speaking to you and you only. “I know you’re just trying to stick around for me.”

“Yeah. Just trying to be wherever you are.”

“You don’t have to fight for me, y’know.” I’m already here. Though you may not have caught on instantly, nothing he’s ever said has made as much sense.

“Sorry, J. Sometimes I just feel like we don’t deserve you. Like I don’t deserve you.” You admitted sheepishly.

JJ scoffs, and you’re not sure why. He’s often sarcastic, but it’s hard to tell what he’s really thinking in these situations.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/n?”

Your eyes meet his, hesitation behind them.

“You’re the one who doesn’t deserve me? Is that a joke?”

You looked at him as if it were obvious, like the line had already been drawn in the sand. This fact had already been decided; there was no going back, not now, and not ever.

“I know I’m not the smartest person, okay, but you’re making no sense.”

“Come again?” You asked, equally as confused as he was. It was incredulous for anyone to believe JJ of all people wasn’t worth it— as if he wasn’t worth someone who would go to the ends of the Earth for him, someone who would defend him six ways to Sunday. There was no one in your life more deserving of such a thing.

“Listen, Y/n...”

“No! You listen. Nobody should treat you like that. Especially our friends! As if their problems are bigger than yours or something. It’s just fucked up for any one of them to act like they don’t care because I know deep down, they do. They care just like I do but they just suck at showing it. Mostly John B. He sucks the most. And I’m not exempt either, I mean I should’ve checked on you sooner-”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” JJ interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“I know that. I just want to love you. Because I really do. I really love you, JJ. Like bad. So bad that it’s probably sad at this point but I really don’t care anymore! Not about what John B has to say, not about anything, because I’ll never regret it. I’ll never wish that I didn’t love you.”

That stupid weight again, feeling as if it’s taking off like a rocketship and leaving your conscience for good. It makes you want to scream the words from the rooftops. Over and over and over again.

Confessing feels good, but kissing JJ feels damn euphoric. His lips are on yours before you can even register what’s happening, too busy being self-aware to realize the way his eyes turned glossy, or the way he’s gently got one hand on your waist and one hand caressing your cheek.

“He’s got it all wrong. I love you, too.” JJ confesses after pulling away from you, briefly taking his eyes off yours to glance at the Chateau. His head shakes as he says it, that starry glint in his eyes so undeniably present. “So bad.”

He earns a giggle out of you as he mocked your words to him just a few moments ago. But now, things were changing. He couldn’t stand before you and pretend he didn’t feel the way he did. Not anymore, not ever again.

Not after you’d shown your love for him so confidently to everybody, time and time again. JJ Maybank wasn’t sure about many things in life, but you weren’t one of them. This was surely the best decision he’d made in years.

“Come over.” You whine between kisses, breaking him out of his trance. If you let him, he’d kiss you forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

JJ raises his eyebrows, smirking.

“For dinner. We’re having sloppy joes.”

JJ, unresisting temptation, leans in again and moans against your lips dramatically. “What about dessert?”

You give his hair a tug and kiss the smirk off his face, whispering to him a secret.

“And maybe dessert.”

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