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#all of it. i want to watch from beginning to end as we are born and made and end
ningsols · 2 days
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[CANON] MIRACULOUS dr
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Kagami Tsurugi (Japanese: 剣 鏡; born November 20, 2005) more commonly known as Ryuko, is the holder of the Dragon Miraculous which contains the power of Perfection. She is not known as Rivera _____'s girlfriend as the two have promised to keep their relationship a secret in order not to be further pulled apart by Kagami's mother, Tomoe Tsurugi.
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hero alias : ryuko
birth name : kagami tsurugi
date of birth : november 20, 2005
zodiac sign : scorpio
chinese zodiac sign : rooster
height : 163 cm (5'4")
mbti type : istj
nationality : french
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how do we meet? : we meet at the private academy we both attend since our early childhood. we only get close within the past few years due to being partnered up in projects, otherwise we never would've run in the same circles.
relationship trope : friends to lovers to forced rivals to allies to lovers
relationship dynamic : moon & sun
things about our relationship :
✶ we’ll spend hours together not even talking; we really like to read together — we’re always recommending each other new books to read
✶ we help each other in school for the subjects that we aren't as good at
✶ most of my kitty section lyrics are about her, but despite how smart she is, she doesn't realize it
✶ we’re both also battling terrible comphet (kagami dating adrien; me thinking i like luka) and fears (tomoe threatening and forcing me to transfer schools halfway through the year is terrifying okay)
✶ but at the end of the day we both always choose each other
✶ she's very controlling of adrien because she wants him to act/be like me
✶ she instantly recognizes me as viveka
✶ she calls me noa so her mom doesn't know that we’re still talking
✶ 𓂂 ˚ ⭒ . ݁ . RELATIONSHIP PLAYLIST RIVERA X KAGAMI ♡
"You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good Luck, Babe!" Good Luck, Babe! Chappell Roan
Both Kagami and I have a hard time facing our comphet after Ms. Tsurugi forces us apart. Kagami finds herself attached to Adrien, becoming controlling because deep down she knows he will never be me. Meanwhile, I begin to think I have feelings for my bandmate, Luka, although he just reminds me of her.
"As we—Fall in too deep within our choices [...] What did our fate do to align?" Fragile Voices Adib Sin
This song encapsulates Kagami and I's relationship as we're on the edge of giving up on us because of the external forces forcing us apart. We're still so intertwined, in a way we don't even realize, and yet we feel each other slipping from our grasps.
"But with everybody watching us-our every move—we do have reputations. We keep it secret, won't let them have it" Once More To See You Mitski
Kagami has a lot on the line, and I have my own safety to worry about. We have to keep our relationship private—We have to cherish the little moments we have together so they don't take it away from us.
"So can we just close our eyes and undress our feelings inside? Our horoscope told me that we could be lovers—So, let's give it a try." Undress Adib Sin
Me after scripting even our horoscopes prove that we're made for each other!!! No but seriously, she's all about needing proof for everything to just trust, so this is my proof that we need to ignore whatever her mom or the world wants for us—we deserve to be together!!!
"You don't need a song, but just in case: You're my lover [girl] [...] My only you and no other [girl]" Lvr Boy Awfultune
Peep the Kitty Section reference. No but seriously, she's my lover girl as much as anyone tries to deny it<33
"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid. [...] [She] was chaos, [she] was revelry." But Daddy I Love Him Taylor Swift
Kagami is the dutiful daughter, meanwhile I'm the chaos. It takes a lot of convincing before her mom is even okay with us being friends, given that I'm lesbian and supposedly "turning her daughter into one" .. But we push past the expectations and choose to be together
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tuesday again 4/23/22
three months unemployed YAY. also wherein i get SUPER pressed about star wars lore
listening
funeral by tele novella. popped open tiktok to see something my best friend sent me and this was there, the first thing on the for you page. let's yoink a description of their previous album from an interview i'm going to quote at length in a bit: "The result was “exactly what we wanted it to be,” a perfumed mist of jingling, jangling, lilting, off-center pop—a strange little snowglobe gathering dust at the back of the shelf."
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the lyrics did hit me like a train bc i often find myself mourning places and situations that were not necessarily good for me but were familiar.
Oh, you're not tied up Here comes the train The tracks feel safe because you know 'em
if you had told me this was made in about 2007-2009ish i would have believed you. very spare production in the way folksier songs of the time were spare. a bit raspy and direct in her delivery. there's a bandcamp interview wherein i found out this is the side project of a vintage/antiques dealer and she has a fascinating perspective on her own music:
Her passion for the craft is evident—in our conversation as much as in listening to the band—but music, for her, is a means to an end, a way to transmit stories. “As a musician, I’m mediocre at best,” Ribbons says matter-of-factly. “I think that my talent lies in my storytelling ability. I think that I’m a good storyteller.” It’s something instilled in her by her grandparents, “voracious readers” who were always buying her books and secretly wanted Ribbons to be a writer, she suspects.
i really adored this whole album as a cohesive work. "vampire cowgirl" is another standout for obvious reasons.
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You came barrelin' down Rabid with some talk Of a gal who rides at night Picking off the stock
remarkably good at reproducing the general vibe of the midcentury cowboy western album, when tv cowboys were sweeping the nation
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reading
T. Kingfisher's Nettle & Bone. enjoyed it, but not quite as much as her other stuff. whereas her other series are almost always comical and often stray into farce, this one was a bit grim. even with the addition of a demonic chicken. had to stop and really think about if my own experience with funerals and funerary rites (too many, too often) was coloring this for me but i think it is simply not as funny or interested in being funny as her other works. not a ding against it, but not what i was really expecting or in the mood for. image from tor, let's yoink the description from macmillan
This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him. Marra — a shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter — is relieved not to be married off for the sake of her parents’ throne. Her older sister wasn’t so fortunate though, and her royal husband is as abusive as he is powerful. From the safety of the convent, Marra wonders who will come to her sister’s rescue and put a stop to this. But after years of watching their families and kingdoms pretend all is well, Marra realizes if any hero is coming, it will have to be Marra herself. If Marra can complete three impossible tasks, a witch will grant her the tools she needs. But, as is the way in stories of princes and the impossible, these tasks are only the beginning of Marra’s strange and enchanting journey to save her sister and topple a throne.
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paywalled article, sorry, but i personally have a bone to pick with fanduel due to [REDACTED INCIDENTS] from [PREVIOUS JOB] so it does not surprise me in the slightest that they don't really seem to be doing a single fucking thing about money-laundering. allegedly.
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watching
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the bad batch, or the 13/16 episodes of the third and final season that are out. all these images are from comicbookreview bc i watched this on my actual television
one of the plots i hate most is the trying to get someone back plot. for example, i think finding nemo does this really well bc it's also a coming of age/parenting movie. i do not think the second finding nemo movie does this well bc as soon as one person is reunited with the group, through a wacky series of coincidences they lose another member. plus that movie is part of the downturn of modern pixar where they forgot how to tell interesting stories but that's neither here nor there. the bad batch falls into the finding nemo 2 category. it's simply frustrating to watch. it turns into a desperate floundering after whoever happens to be missing instead of using a The Searchers style plot to say something about the act of the search itself. i realize i am once again saying "what if star wars was good" but like. come on.
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the bad batch s3 is surprisingly focused on retroactively filling in the backstory of how and why palpatine got cloned with his force powers intact, which is apparently a difficult technical problem. i would have cared about this if this show came out before the last movie and we had a cool breadcrumb style approach leading up to the movie. unfortunately that movie (and the sequel trilogy more broadly) killed a lot of my interest in modern star wars. anyway, this cloning problem leads to a lot of very technical conversations in a children's' show that are interesting to me, a grownup, bc no star wars media has ever successfully explained 1) what midichlorians actually are and 2) the biological processes by which they operate but refuse to be cloned? which is extremely funny to me bc midicholrians aren't supposed to be real. qui-gon has that whole little speech and blood test in the phantom menace but the series had So scrupulously stayed away from explaining how the force works before that. they still fail to explain it but they at least attempt to break two inches of new ground. side note this show gives us TWO canon trans girl clones and i really wish they were in a better show.
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it's annoying that i'm annoyed about a children's show meant to sell toys. some fun things: the pyke syndicate shows up, a slew of my favorite bounty hunters show up, this show is much better at painterly backgrounds and has an overall more concept-art feel than the clone wars proper or rebels. i think it would be cool if they stopped whitewashing the clones. i'm going to finish out the season but i don't exactly have a lot going on in my life right now. i am not terribly sad that this is the final season but BOY do they have a lot of loose ends to wrap up in three episodes.
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playing
new genshin update on uhhh thursday and it's kind of exciting bc i THINK it will finally fill in this hole on the map and the associated shorelines of three different countries!
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i thought i had long since found all the chests in liyue (the second area released) but in the process of doing a recently released character quest set in liyue i found another chest. this game is very good at hidden objectives and little secrets but i wish it was better at letting you know when you have Actually cleared an area completely of all the little hidden stuff. anyway i have been holding back the last character hangout (ningguang, my best beloved ruthless girlboss business high femme) for a terrible day and that day came! unfortunately hanging out with the fake pretend video game lesbian did make me feel better!
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also unfortunately i fucked up and cannot count so the gacha pity system (every 90 pulls you're guaranteed a 5-star character) gave me Neuvillette. who i don't hate but i wasn't really planning on pulling for. i do like his questline and his voice actor, he simply doesn't fit in super well with a mono-electro team bc i play this game like an insane woman.
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the real bitch of the thing keeping me from upgrading him is going out in the overworld and collecting enough sea stars. why can't he need flowers or little gears or anything else i have a thousand of.
anyway this gal will be dropping sometime in the next six weeks and i AM extremely excited to pull for her. she has some cool abilities (GUN) and is part of a popular pair with the steampunk lolita character i love and leads my other main team. i hope their abilities play well off each other but she has such a cool storyline and design i don't super care if she fits in with my playstyle. i will adapt for her in a way i am not willing to do with neuvilette
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making
i am once again obsessed with gallery walls, bc a friend has asked me to find the correct gigantic size frames to put some comics on his wall, and that has given me an excuse to go to thrift stores again.
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unfortunately i have mostly found frames for me, and the projects i have been working on have kind of a long tail of when they will actually be on my walls. i picked up four 16x20 frames for $2.50 each (solid wood! remarkably detailed!) bc i eventually want to put up these fallout maps in the style of national parks maps up on the map wall in my office. i suppose this means i should join @ruffledringdove and actually play '76, bc that's the one modern game i haven't played. these are getting scuff sanded with 120 and painted with a eggshell paint sample in a bright white u all know the drill at this point. ive painted a lot of frames in the past few weeks.
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left is one of the painted 16x20 map frames, right i have also finally sanded and painted both 12x16 deckle-edged wood frames i picked up off the side of the road in MA. and found glass + backs for them! eventually i will procure fancy mats and print + frame my grandmothers' portraits. they will eventually go on the living room wall, which is a neutrals and blue-greens wall of slightly disdainful women. this will help me swap the three maps in there to the office map wall.
i have also acquired this gigantic plaster-over-wood mirror for $15. i am using leftover rub n buff bc i don't have a great spot to spraypaint here without sheeting my entire front porch, and rub n buff is way less susceptible to 80% humidity than spray paint. also i would have to buy spray paint. i am looking up suspiciously bc i thought there was a bug. not sure what mackie was looking at.
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amiableness · 2 months
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Little Lies
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Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader
Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.
Word Count: 11.4k
Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy
A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.
Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.
His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.
Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.
It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.
You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.
Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”
His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.
“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.
“James.” You mimic.
He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”
You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”
"She thought we were a couple." He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Can you believe that? You and me?”
You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.
You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”
“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”
“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.
“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.
“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”
James protests, panicking, "But Lily doesn't know that! If you two could just pretend-"
"No, absolutely not! That is going too far." You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.
"Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!" James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.
"Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?" You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.
James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, "Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth."
James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.
While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.
Your frustration grows, "It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There's no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James's casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There's evidence to believe it."
"Are you joking?" You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.
Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.
But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.
James interjects, "Lily believed it. She even said she wasn't surprised."
"But she thought you and I were together?" You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.
"She might've just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him." Remus says casually, and James' eyes light up in excitement.
James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”
"Does Sirius even know?" You interrupt, catching James's eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.
James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”
You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.
Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.
If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.
Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.
"Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me." Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.
Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, "You okay?"
Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.
“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.
"What'd you do?"
Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.
"Lily and I were talking today," James sighs, "and she wouldn't stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it's not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her."
"She thinks I'm in love with you?" You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius' face at James' words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.
James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.
"You told Lily that Y/n's my girl?" Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.
"I panicked, and that's what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you're madly in love, that would be great!" James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You're prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.
But then Sirius shrugs, "Sure, shouldn't be too hard, right, sweet girl?" He says, and your legs feel like jelly.
You're floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.
You’re delusional. You truly are.
"Sure, that shouldn't be too bad." You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today." James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.
"We've switched spots, is that not enough for you?" You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you're panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.
You're usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.
"I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him." Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.
Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.
"I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act." You insist.
"Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?" James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.
"The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.
You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn't pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.
"I'm still waiting on the PDA." Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.
You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius' side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, "Oi, back off, mate." Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.
James watches as Sirius's cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can't help but grin at the two of you.
"We're not going to be all over each other." You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.
"Why not?" James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”
“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He's entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.
"Listen, we can do whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't want to kiss, then we don't have to," Sirius tells you gently, "but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate."
The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there's a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?
Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.
"You're right," You nod. “Let's just start off slow. It will be weird if we're all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday."
"Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?" James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.
Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?
You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James's words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.
“Y/n, get your man in check.’ James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.
"Good morning." Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she's debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.
James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.
"Y'ready for this?" Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily's conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.
You're so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.
You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.
It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.
You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. "I think so. We're newly dating, so don't go overboard with it." You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.
“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.
You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”
His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”
“Good morning, Lily.” Peter's gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.
Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that's your spot. But when you notice James's pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.
Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn't even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he's so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.
You and Sirius aren't acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.
“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”
"Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?" Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.
Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew."
You're at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.
"Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her." Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.
You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius' words, their eyes darting between you and him.
“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.
"Sirius, I can't believe you thought that she—" Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.
"Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don't y' think?" James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.
Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius' direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily's interrupted comment.
Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, "Don't even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He's sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.
"Who is she?" You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.
"I'm going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know.." He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.
A laugh escapes you, "I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret."
"Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?" James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.
"All my deepest darkest secrets." You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.
“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he's genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.
James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn't confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.
“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James's expression breaks into a satisfied grin.
The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.
After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it's probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.
You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.
He's momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It's a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.
"I think I'm going to go to bed." You tell him softly, "But I promise we'll talk more tomorrow."
“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.
“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you've left the room.
Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.
"Why the hell did you get a hug?" Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.
“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he's put on the spot.
Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, "What were you guys talking about over there?"
Remus interjects with a teasing tone, "Careful, Pads. You sound jealous." A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius' furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.
“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.
“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”
James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.
"You're jealous because you have feelings for her." James states matter-of-factly.
Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, "’Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.
James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.
“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.
“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.
“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.
Sirius sighs heavily.
The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius' affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.
Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.
You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven't made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn't a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.
Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.
“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he's played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you've found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.
For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.
Sirius' laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”
It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius' girl, you wanted it more than before.
Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, "Yeah, I really do."
Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You've never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you're doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?
The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, "What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?"
Lily's expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”
It feels like you've been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily's words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.
“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.
“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.
You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”
Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn't truly mind it.
As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily's words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn't he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?
Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he's shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.
“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.
The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you all day.
He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What, sweet girl?”
"Get off!" You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.
“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he's sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you're settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.
Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn't hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.
Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.
You're gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.
Despite Remus' attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.
He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.
“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it's due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus' direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.
The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.
You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It's been a while since you've felt so at ease.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James' persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he'd be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn't help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.
“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn't thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.
You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily's proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius' girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.
After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius' arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.
“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.
"It's not that, and you know it." You respond, frustration evident in your tone.
Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, "You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other."
You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.
But Remus persists, his gaze steady, "You should consider telling him how you feel."
You scoff. "Absolutely not."
"Why not? What have you got to lose?"
You meet his gaze, incredulous, "Our friendship, for starters."
Remus shakes his head, "Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried."
You meet Remus's gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, "Okay, maybe he wouldn't end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead."
Remus offers a small smile, "Or it could go well. You could end up together."
You remain silent, the weight of Remus's words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.
But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn't entirely out of reach.
Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. "Do you want a drink?" He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.
You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, "Yes, please." You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.
As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you're left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.
“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.
"Hey, Max." You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.
"I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you." Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.
You're surprised by his remark, "You have?" You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you." Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.
"I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help." You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.
He regains some confidence and continues, "Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?"
Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily‘s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.
You can't bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don't really want to, anyway.
"That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius." You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.
Max looks taken aback, "Sirius Black?"
"Yes." You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.
Max shakes his head, looking confused, "I didn’t know Sirius-"
"You didn’t know what, Townsend?" Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. "Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink."
You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn't looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she's mine.
Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”
“And why were you talking about that?”
“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”
Sirius' entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”
He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.
A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.
But then the reality hits him: you're not off limits. You're perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.
“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”
"Max, it's okay. Really." You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.
“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable
“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He's never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.
You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.
Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn't, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You're flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.
You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”
“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”
“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn't wait to taste.
“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”
You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter's inquiry about your destination and James' response that you won't be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.
You're so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don't even notice the sound at first.
The muffled noise filtering through the boys' dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don't quite fit the pattern of someone who's just sick.
You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.
You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”
Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.
Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.
“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.
“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.
"Sirius," You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you've caught on. "I just heard you." You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.
“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.
“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius's unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.
He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”
“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.
He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.
As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius's intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.
“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”
You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”
Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.
He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.
As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.
He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He's murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.
“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius's gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.
He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.
Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”
Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.
His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment's hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.
Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.
Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.
He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.
“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.
He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you're gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.
He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.
“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.
A gasp escapes your lips as you're overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”
Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can't help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.
“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don't bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.
“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you'll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.
Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.
Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.
“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.
"Please don't stop." You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.
You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn't compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it's not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.
Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.
“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.
As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.
“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You're convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.
With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.
His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.
“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.
His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”
You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.
“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.
He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you're immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.
“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.
He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It's as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he's been holding back.
“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”
“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.
“Pictured, tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would've been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you're in, embarrassment takes a backseat.
“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.
“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”
You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.
His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”
A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.
But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.
“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.
Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.
“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.
“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It's the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.
“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.
You both remain entwined, lost in each other's embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you're so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.
Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.
“Y’okay, sweet girl?”
“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.
“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajama pants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.
Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.
“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.
“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.
In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other's embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.
"That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?" You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.
"No," Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. "I want you to be mine, for real this time."
The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I'm all yours."
You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"I'm sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?" You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.
James grins, casting you a smug look. "I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”
“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.
James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”
You sigh softly, "That's true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?"
James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.
"You're certifiably insane." You tease, exhaling a laugh.
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.
"Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you're napping with Sirius," He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he's fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. "My shoe got tangled in your bra."
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
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"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
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witchthewriter · 2 months
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Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust
Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...
Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.
This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')
Da = Johnny
Papa = John P.
Dad= Simon
Daddy = Kyle
School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.
Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).
Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.
And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.
None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.
Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.
Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"
"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.
Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"
After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.
Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.
With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.
The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.
When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.
"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.
You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.
"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.
Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.
"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.
All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.
"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.
"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.
"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.
"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.
"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.
"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.
"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.
"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.
"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.
"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"
The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.
Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.
"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."
"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)
Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.
"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.
"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.
It was always hard to hang up.
It hurt.
But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.
'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.
"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.
"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."
"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.
You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.
"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."
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babybluebex · 2 years
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𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet steve and nancy’s new baby and can’t help but notice eddie acting strange. once you finally get the truth out of him— that he wants a baby with you— you can’t help but share the fantasy. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: SMUT (minors dni), cream pie, praise kink, breeding kink, slight degradation kink, use of “mama” and “daddy” (not sexually, though), baby content, i named steve and nancy’s baby amelia bc why not 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: inspired by and beta’d by @cherrycordial98, thank you bobbie for giving me this tasty rotisserie chicken hehe
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“Aw, Stevie!” you cooed. “She’s so beautiful!”
The baby in your arms cooed back at you and sputtered her pert little pink lips, and you smiled widely. It had been several weeks since Steve and Nancy had their first baby— Nugget, as they called her before she was born, and has since been named Amelia— but you never had been able to meet her until then. She truly was a beautiful little baby, fat pink cheeks and wispy dark hair and her father’s big brown eyes, and you pouted playfully as you laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. 
“She looks like her mom,” Steve said, and Nancy rolled her eyes. 
“With those eyes, she looks more like you,” Nancy told Steve, and baby Amelia grabbed at your pinkie with her tiny little hand. 
“She’s definitely got Daddy’s hair,” you chuckled. You looked over beside you, to Eddie, and you laughed as you saw him on the far end of the couch, seemingly cowering from the baby. You had, in his defense, dragged him here against his will and forced him to interact with Amelia, and it was no surprise to you that he didn’t want to hold her. Eddie was weird around kids to begin with, and babies were definitely not his forté, but he was acting especially weird about Amelia. You wanted to ask him about it, but you also didn’t want to do it in front of Steve and Nancy, so you made a mental note to ask later.
“Ed, you wanna say hi?” Steve asked, and Eddie’s wide eyes locked onto you and Amelia. 
“I’m good,” Eddie chirped sharply, and Nancy rolled her eyes. “I-I can appreciate her from over here.” 
“She’s not gonna puke on you or anything,” you told your boyfriend with a laugh. “She’s just the sweetest little thing. Aren’t you, little girl? Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” 
Amelia cooed again, a cute smile on her face, and her grip tightened on your pinkie. 
“Holy shit,” you laughed, lightly tugging your hand away. “She’s got some grip strength, doesn’t she?” 
“Yeah!” Steve chuckled. “She’s so much stronger than I thought babies could be. But she’s so cute, so it’s fine if she crushes my finger.” 
“She’s adorable,” you nodded, and you looked at Eddie again. He was still watching you and Amelia closely, his owlish eyes open fully and unblinking, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “You okay, Eds?”
“Fine,” Eddie answered quickly. “Um, Steve, bathroom?” 
“Down the hall, man,” Steve said slowly, jerking his thumb in the direction of said hallway, and Eddie was quick to stand up and escape, the chain on his jeans jingling as he walked. You and Steve and Nancy all waited until you heard the door close, and Nancy looked at you with confusion etched all over her face. 
“What the hell was that?” she asked. 
You shrugged, bouncing Amelia lightly in your arms as she gurgled. “I have no idea,” you said softly. “Eddie’s not too into kids and stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this.” 
“You don’t think it has anything to do with us?” Steve asked. 
“I don’t think so,” you replied. “I mean, you’re his best friend, and Nancy’s mine; I don’t think it has anything to do with it being your baby. I mean, anything bad. Maybe he’s like ‘oh shit, our friends have a baby’.”
“Does Eddie want kids?” Nancy asked, and you sighed heavily.
“I don’t know,” you said. “We haven’t really talked about it. I always assumed no, just because he typically doesn’t like kids, but… I have no idea. Maybe he does, and he’s having, like, a revelation crisis in your bathroom.” 
Nancy stepped closer to you and scooped Amelia into her arms, and you rubbed your palms nervously on your knees. “Should I go talk to him?” you asked. 
“Might be worth a shot,” Steve shrugged. 
You watched Nancy and baby Amelia for a moment more before you stood up, and you carefully moved down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. It was quiet on the other side of the door, practically no sign of Eddie, and you sighed and placed your palm flat against the door. “Eds?” you said gently. “Everything okay in there?” 
It was quiet for a moment, then Eddie’s voice floated from the other side. “Yeah,” he said, but you knew better. 
“What’s wrong, Eddie?” you asked. “Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me.” 
More silence. Then: “Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t tell you here. Or now. Wait until we get home, then I’ll tell you.” 
“I—” you started. “Eddie, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?” 
“I feel…” Eddie started. “Weird. I’ll tell you later, when Steve and Nancy aren’t around with that baby.” 
“Well…” you started. “Steve and Nancy aren’t here right now. Could you maybe tell me now? I’m just worried about you, sweetheart.”
It was quiet for a long moment, but then the door creaked open an inch to show a sliver of Eddie’s body. He was quiet as he gestured for you to come into the bathroom with him, and you stepped inside quickly. Eddie sighed heavily once the door shut, and he hoisted himself to sit on the counter again. “Alright,” he said. “So, yeah, I’m not a huge fan of kids. Babies. The whole thing scares me. I don’t know why, but kids really make me nervous. I guess, like, because I don’t know how to act with them.”
“Well, Eds, that’s totally okay,” you told him. “Not everyone is good with kids, and just because you’re a little anxious around Amelia doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”
“That’s not all,” Eddie said quickly. Obviously it wasn’t; his face was turning pink, his ears tinting vermillion, and you knew that he had more to say. “I would’ve held her. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t…”
“Why not?” you asked.
“Because I wanted to keep watching you hold her,” Eddie said. He took a deep breath then, and he added, “You were so good with her, and you looked so… I can’t explain it, but you looked beautiful holding that baby. It got me thinking about what would happen if we had a baby…”
Your heart rammed itself up into your throat, and you mumbled, “Oh. Eddie—”
“I know we haven’t really talked about that,” Eddie interjected, his brown eyes widening. “And, like, I never really thought about it until right now, but I think… I don’t know, this would totally be on you, because, duh, but I think I might want a baby with you.” 
That shocked you silent. You grappled for words as you tried to make sense of what Eddie was telling you, and you finally uttered, “Really? Like, really?”
“I know it seems stupid,” Eddie mumbled, his gaze falling down into his lap. He kicked his feet a little as you watched him similarly fight for the words to express his thoughts, and he muttered out, “And, like, maybe it is. But just seeing you with Steve’s baby, seeing you be so good with her, it… I don’t know. My chest felt all funny and it was hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but imagine that being our baby that you were holding and kissing and loving-on. And I got… It’s dumb. I got a little turned on thinking about it.”
“Eds,” you said softly. “None of that is dumb or stupid. That’s— That’s sweet. Do you want kids, or do you just like seeing me with a baby?”
“I think I want kids with you,” Eddie said. “I mean, think about it. A tiny little baby, my eyes and your nose, cooing so sweet in your arms. Just like Amelia, but she’s ours. She’s a product of our love. Doesn’t that sound so… I don’t know… Right?” 
“It does,” you said. “But, Eddie, I don’t know, this seems really sudden.”
“Well, I mean, I only figured out that this is something I want, like, five minutes ago,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “This is sudden for me too. But, umm… What’re your thoughts here?”
You leaned against the counter next to Eddie, digging your fingernails into your thighs, and he started, “I… I won’t lie, it seems like a really bad idea. I mean… Eddie, we’re so young—”
“Not anymore than Steve and Nancy,” Eddie argued. 
“And we haven’t been together for nearly as long as Steve and Nancy have,” you added. “It just seems so… Quick. Are you sure?”
“I love you,” Eddie uttered, lifting his head from looking at his lap to look at you. “And just because I say I want kids doesn’t mean we have to start on it now. Like, maybe it can be one of those ‘someday’ things. Like, y’know, someday we’ll have a baby.” 
You chewed your lip as you thought about it, collecting everything that was floating around your mind, and you finally said, “Would it be so bad if we did start now?” 
Eddie looked at you with his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’re you saying?” 
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. It was your turn to anxiously look at your lap, and you picked at a thread on your sweater as you muttered, “I mean, you make a lot of good points. Maybe a baby would be… I don’t know, there’s so much that makes me wanna say no, but there’s one thing that makes me wanna say yes, and it, like, feels so much more important than everything telling me no.”
“What is it?” Eddie asked. He jumped off of the counter and turned to you, and he gently spread your knees to slot his body between your thighs. His hands skated up your warm legs to your waist, and he held you close as he whispered, “Tell me, baby, what’re you thinking about?” 
“I’m thinking about you holding a baby,” you said softly. “Our baby. A little baby with your everything, hair and eyes and laugh. It’s kinda driving me crazy now that I’ve thought about it.”
“Now you see what I mean,” Eddie said with a smile. “You wanna try for a baby?”
You sighed heavily. “Maybe,” you said. “We can certainly practice, but I think I need a little more time to really be certain.” 
“That’s good enough for me,” Eddie said, and he leaned forward and kissed you. His mouth was warm as his lips moved over yours, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he pulled your hips closer to his. 
Before you could sling your arms around Eddie’s neck and pull him closer, there was a solid knock from the other side of the door. “You two alright in there?” Steve called through the door. “You’ve been talking for a while.” 
“We’re fine,” Eddie replied. “We’re making a baby in here.”
“Eddie!” you gasped, and you lightly hit his chest as he grinned at you. “We’re not doing that! We’re just talking, we’ll be out in a minute.” 
Eddie chuckled lightly and buried his face in your neck, and he whispered, “I think I wanna go hold that baby.” 
You left the bathroom with Eddie’s hand in yours, and, when he reentered the living room, where Nancy held Amelia, he had a spring in his step that he hadn’t had when he left. “Hey, Nance,” he said. “Can I hold her?” 
It was a sight that you had never thought that you would see. Eddie sat on the couch and held his arms out for Amelia, and Nancy carefully transferred her small daughter into Eddie’s leather-clad arms. Amelia seemed sleepy, her little eyes sticking when she blinked, and she looked lazily up at Eddie as he grinned like a madman. “Look, babe,” Eddie chuckled as Amelia warmed to him instantly, nestling herself deep into her blanket and letting out a soft coo. “I’m holding a baby. I’m doing it.” 
“I’m proud of you,” you giggled, and Eddie lightly bounced Amelia as he smiled down at her. 
“She’s really pretty,” Eddie said, looking up at Steve for a moment. “Gonna have to get that bat out and fight off the boys when she’s older.” 
“I hope not,” Steve laughed. “That bat’s retired. Nancy can be cleaning her guns when boys try to come over.” 
“Hell yeah,” Eddie snickered, and Amelia reached a fat baby fist up and grappled with the guitar pick necklace he had around his neck. “Oh, you like this? Think you want Uncle Eddie to teach you guitar?” 
“Uncle Eddie,” you repeated. “That’s scary. You’ll be such a bad influence.” 
“Just as I plan to be,” Eddie grinned, watching Amelia. “I’ll show her metal music and horror movies and we’ll play D&D every night.” 
“Oh, God,” Nancy laughed. “My poor daughter.” 
“Nah, not really,” Eddie said, and your heart exploded when he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was the most perfect sight, and you grinned at him. “I’ll treat her like the princess she is.” 
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The drive home was fairly quiet, Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh as he drove, tapping his fingers along with the radio. He didn’t speak, obviously thinking hard about something, and he finally spoke as he pulled the van up into the small space next to the trailer. “So…” he started. “How do you feel?” 
“I feel like I want a baby,” you said simply. “There’s a million reasons not to, but the only reason I need is that I love you.”
“I’ll be the best fucking father to our kid,” Eddie told you, his grip tightening on your thigh. His eyes were serious and dark, and you took his hand into yours “I won’t ever make you regret it.” 
“Let’s do it,” you said, and you took a deep breath. “Let’s have a baby.”
Eddie got you into the trailer in a flash, pushing you against the kitchen counter in an instant and caging you in with his arms. He kissed you softly at first, his lips moving nicely against yours as his arms came to wrap around your middle, but he didn’t waste time to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. “Fuck, baby,” Eddie whispered as his hands slotted into your back pockets.
“Eddie,” you moaned. You pressed forward into him, chasing his kiss, and you whined softly when he pulled away. Eddie licked his lips and smiled at you, and he squeezed your ass as he chuckled. 
“Desperate, huh?” he laughed. “You just want my baby so badly, don’t you?” 
“Want you,” you told him, and you leaned forward to meet his lips again. His hands rose from your ass to cradle your cheeks in his palms, and he breathed deeply through his nose as his tongue pressed between your lips. Your hands went to his belt and tugged him closer, right on top of you, and Eddie’s knee knocked your legs open so he could shove his thigh right up against your clothed cunt. 
“C’mere,” Eddie grunted. “To bed… I’m not getting you pregnant in the kitchen.” 
You hummed and playfully tugged on his belt buckle, starting to undo it, and you said, “What if I can’t wait?”
“God,” Eddie groaned, your hand slipping past his belt and into his jeans. “You’re such a little vixen, baby, fuck.”
Your hand was filled by Eddie’s cock in an instant, already half hard and throbbing, and you leaned forward and settled your lips on Eddie’s smooth neck as your hand started to palm him lazily, just giving him enough to get him worked up. “Eddie,” you moaned softly into his ear, gently nipping at his fleshy earlobe, and Eddie’s hands grabbed your hips tightly. His fingers mischievously itched up your shirt and squeezed your side, and you grinned as you sucked a mark just under his ear. “Fuck, Eddie, need this cock inside me.” 
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Eddie sighed, and his eyes closed blissfully for a moment, enjoying your movements against his cock, before he took your wrist in his grip and tugged your hand out of his jeans. “But I’m not fucking you in the kitchen, not today. We’re gonna fuck in bed, okay?”
“Why?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Why do you care?”
“Because I wanna treat you nicely if I’m about to get you pregnant,” Eddie laughed, and your cheeks grew aflamed at the reminder. “I don’t want the kind of fucking where I bend you over and spit on you and fuck you; I want to be nicer to you, more romantic and shit.”
“What if I like when you fuck me like that?” you asked. 
“I know you do,” Eddie told you. “But, please, baby, just for tonight. We can go back to our regular-type fucking, but I just need this tonight.”
You considered it, watching Eddie bite his lip as his eyes grew round and wide, and you finally said, “You’re cute when you beg.” 
Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you back to the private little bedroom in the back of the trailer. Eddie’s place was always messy, but you loved that about him, and you settled yourself in his bed without a moment’s hesitation. You were quick to whip off your shirt and toss it aside, and Eddie tsk-ed his tongue and took your hands in his. 
“Let me,” he told you. “Being all romantic and shit, remember?” 
“Right, right,” you hummed slowly, and you smiled at Eddie as he settled himself on his knees over you. He took down your jeans, littering kisses on your skin in his wake, and your tummy flipped when he tugged your jeans off all the way and discarded them off the side of the bed. His head was level with your cunt, and he smoothed his hands up the sides of your body as he kissed just above the waistline of your panties. 
“Right here, baby,” he whispered. “Right here’s where our baby’s gonna grow.” His fingers tangled in your panties and pulled them down, moving so slowly that you whimpered and shifted your hips, and Eddie lightly nipped at the skin of your hip. “Not very patient…” 
“S’hard to be,” you told him. “I just want you so bad.” 
Eddie tucked his hair behind his ear as he settled another kiss to your belly, and he said, “I want you too. Fuck, it’s taking everything in me not to just fuck you right now.” 
“Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please, I just need you. Fuck being romantic, we can be romantic later.” 
“No, baby, no,” Eddie said quickly. “I want to do this right. At least once, I wanna be romantic and cute and shit. What if this is the time our baby’s conceived?”
“What if it happens two months from now during a quickie before work?” you countered. “Eds, I get where you’re coming from, but I’m horny now and I can’t wait.” 
Eddie sighed for a moment, and he said, “You’re right. Fuck, why’re you always right?” 
Your work responded in kind to his, taking down his jeans and ridding him of his shirt, and you put your hand on his chest to push him down to the bed. You tossed your leg over his waist and settled yourself in his lap, and his arms circled your waist as he rose up to kiss you deeply. You moaned softly at the taste of him, his hard cock straining against his boxers and pressing right into your bare cunt, and you rocked your hips forward to get some friction on your lonely clit. 
Eddie held you tightly, grabbing handfuls of your ass to guide you as you grinded up on him. His mouth claimed your greedily, sloppy and wet kisses that broke with soft sounds every time you pulled away to breathe, and Eddie abandoned your ass to tug at your bra. “Take this off…” he mumbled into your mouth as he undid the clasp, and, the moment that your tits were bared to him, his mouth redirected focus onto your pebbled nipple. 
“Fuck, Eds,” you moaned as he laved your nipple with his tongue. He sucked on it for a moment as his hands joined, squeezing your tits and rubbing them all over, and he dropped off and hummed lightly as he watched your chest heave with heavy breaths. 
“How’re you so fucking gorgeous?” Eddie whispered, and he dragged you back down into a heavy kiss. His mouth was blistering hot against yours, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, and his hands drifted up to lightly tug on your hair. “Mmm, I love you, baby.” 
“Need you,” you told him breathlessly, and you laughed lightly when Eddie licked his lips and attached himself back to your tit. 
“How do you need me, baby?” Eddie asked, licking over your nipple. “Tell me exactly how you need me.” 
“Need you inside me,” you uttered, your head falling back in pleasure. “Need you to give me your baby.” 
“Sounds hot, sweetheart,” Eddie said. When you lifted your head back up to look at him, his eyes were blown-out with lust, and you smiled at him gently. “C’mon, then; you want it so bad, get it.” 
You looked down at where your bodies connected, him still wearing his boxers, and you helped him shimmy them down his legs. He tossed them off the bed with a flick of his wrist, and the sight of his cock, red and hard and weeping, made your breath catch. “I love you,” you whispered, and Eddie laughed. 
“You sayin’ that to me or my dick?” Eddie chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. 
“You, obviously,” you said. “But I do love your cock.” 
“Good, you’d better,” Eddie said. “‘Cause I love your pussy— I mean, you.” 
You giggled as he gave you his lopsided grin, his mischievous grin, and you folded your arms around his neck, twirling a curl around your finger. “Can you please get inside me already?” you asked, and Eddie squeezed your tits one more time before he abandoned them in favor of grabbing his cock. 
“I’ve hardly prepped you,” Eddie mumbled as he stroked his cock, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. “It’s gonna hurt.” 
“No, it won’t,” you assured him, leaning down and kissing him quickly. 
“Alright,” Eddie sang jokingly. “But if it stings and you need me to slow down, that’s too bad.” 
“Whatever,” you said as you rolled your eyes, and Eddie pressed the head of his cock into you before he grabbed your hips and helped you sink fully onto him. He was right— it stung something awful, the stretch of your pussy around his thick cock taking you off guard as always, and you sucked in a tight breath through your teeth as you wiggled your hips to regain comfort. 
“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, cradling the back of your head with his palm. “Does it hurt? Just like I fuckin’ said it would?” 
“Shut up,” you said as you slotted your lip between your teeth, and you slowly rocked your hips down as Eddie jerked his hips up into you. The slide of him against your slick walls was the most perfect pain, and you whimpered as he slowly started up a good rhythm of fucking you. “Eddie, fuck.” 
“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, his dull fingernails digging into your ass. He controlled the speed of him fucking you, rolling your hips forward to bury himself deeper inside you, and you moaned lowly at the pleasure that was blossoming in your lower belly. “You feel so fucking good.” 
“Fuck me harder,” you told him, and you tucked your face into his neck and began to slowly kiss his skin. “God, Eddie, fuck me.” 
Without a moment’s hesitation, Eddie hooked his hands under your thighs and manhandled you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you gave a quiet “Oof!”. Eddie was over you in a second, pressing your legs higher and further apart until your knees were situated by your ears, and he clenched his jaw as his thrusts became quicker, harder, sloppier. “Like this?” he huffed, holding your legs open as he pounded into you. The bed slammed against the wall with each thrust, and you laughed. 
“Yes!” you cried. “Fuck, just like this!” 
“My girl,” Eddie hummed as he fucked you, his strong hands on your thighs. His cock speared into you deep, his heavy balls slapping your sticky cunt, and you tossed your head back and moaned as Eddie’s hand left your leg in order to rub at your clit. A hot bolt of electricity ran up your legs and settled in your tummy at the feeling of his fingers roughly playing at your clit, pinching and circling and teasing you in the best way he could. “My good fuckin’ girl, love having your clit touched, huh?” 
“Eddie, fuck,” you whined. Your hands grappled in the bed sheets for any purchase, any way to keep yourself grounded, and your scrambling hand was quickly filled by Eddie’s ringed hand, holding your fingers tightly. 
“I fuckin’ love you,” Eddie hissed, your pussy throbbing and hugging him tight. “Fuckin’ love this pussy too…”
“Do you love me more than you love my pussy?” you asked with a breathy laugh, and Eddie squeezed your hand for a moment. 
“Of course I do,” he smiled. He fucked into you hard, the bed hitting the wall loudly, and you bit your lip as you laughed at him. “God, baby, thinkin’ about you getting all pregnant, having my baby…” His cock flexed inside you, the glide of him now easy and pleasurable, and he added, “It’s enough to make me come.” 
“Do it,” you teased him, and Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he chuckled. “Fucking come inside me, give me your babies, Eddie.” 
“Love the way you say my name,” Eddie mumbled. “Can’t wait ‘til I can call you Mama.”
“And you’ll be Daddy,” you told him, and a flush invaded Eddie’s cheeks. “Just think about it, a little girl calling you Daddy, asking you to play dolls with her…”
“I’ll always play dolls with that little girl,” Eddie said. “Our own little nugget. God, I can’t wait.” 
Edide’s hand moved quicker on your clit, rubbing it furiously as his thrusts became faster, and he panted with exertion as he whispered, “You gettin’ close, babe? Daddy’s gonna make Mama come?”
The knot in your belly was growing tighter with every thrust Eddie gave you, his cock nestling into that spot inside you as he played with your clit and squeezed your hand. “Fuck, Eds,” you mewled, your back arching up into his body. “I love you, oh my God.”
“I love you too,” Eddie said. “C’mon, baby, you can come, come for me.” 
The sounds hitting the wall were intense, wet and sticky and so erotic, and you whined as you felt the knot grow tighter and the electricity more intense. The shocks were rocking your thighs, making you quiver in Eddie’s grip, and you finally mumbled, “M’gonna come…”
“Good girl,” Eddie said, his thrusts growing quicker. “Come for me, baby, you can do it.”
You could taste it on your tongue, and you tugged Eddie down into a kiss as you came undone. Your mouth fell open as you moaned and cried, and Eddie bit at your bottom lip as you gushed around his cock. “Fuck!” you cried, your whole body writhing, and you heard Eddie whisper “Yes, baby, just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this.” 
“You close?” you whispered, your body still recovering from the white-hot orgasm, and Eddie nodded, his bangs falling into his face. 
“Gonna fill you up,” he said. “Gonna give you my baby, fuck, you’ll get all pregnant…” 
“Give me your baby, Eddie,” you breathed, dragging him down into another sloppy kiss. His spit covered your mouth, but you didn’t care, only caring about making him come. You squeezed his throbbing cock tight, and he moaned deep in his chest as, finally, you felt his heavy balls release, and he came. 
The hot ropes of cum filled you as he continued to fuck you through his own orgasm, and he shuddered out a moan that made his stomach flex as his thrusts slowed. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice raw and wrecked, and he readjusted himself on his hands as he carefully fucked you. 
“Baby, you can stop—” you began, but Eddie silenced you with a kiss. 
“Gotta make sure it takes,” he mumbled into your mouth.
You sighed and let your head fall back, and your thighs twitched with residual arousal as Eddie slowed and finally stopped, panting heavily. His upper lip and forehead were shining with sweat, his guitar pick necklace sticking to his sweaty chest, and he pulled out of you with a hiss before he fell onto his back beside you. The bed was small, but you made do, and you hugged Eddie close to you and nestled your head under his chin. 
“Think it’ll take?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. He smoothed his hand down your hair and he placed a kiss to your forehead, and his hand settled against the small of your back. 
“I hope so,” he said. “I can hardly wait to see.” 
6K notes · View notes
wwilsonbarness · 9 months
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hello? Mr. Pickle?
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pairings:  bucky barnes x reader
summary: Bucky struggles with modern technology, especially autocorrect. 
warnings: none, pure fluff 
word count: 495
a/n: When I was writing i can’t do this anymore my autocorrect changed doll to dill and so this was born - also my first drabble? Huge thanks to @hopelessromantic423 for the title suggestion <33
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
masterlist 
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From across the room you could hear your phone vibrating so you made a mental note to check it once you finish this chapter of your book. It buzzed again and you debated going over to it but you only had two pages left. Then it buzzed 3 more times, straight after each other. This was when you decided it must be important so you got up and started walking over. It buzzed another two times as you walked over and you started to panic, it could’ve been an emergency. When you saw the messages on your screen you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was Bucky who was messaging you. 
Buck
I’m just leaving. What do you want for dinner dill?  dill** dill** This stupid fucking phone. DILL** DILL DILL** Fuck sake I’m phoning you 
You only just finish reading the last message when your phone begins to ring and you try to compose your laughter enough to answer. 
“Hey Buck, or should I say Mr Pickle?” 
“Ha Ha.” He replies sarcastically, “I take it you seen my texts. Stupid phone never works.” 
“It’s just not used to your 40’s lingo babe.” You teased, you were always kidding with him about how much of an old man he was. Not in the way of his literal age but the way he lived, he hated using new technology, he hated social media, and you don’t even want to think back on the time you tried to make him watch a reality show. He tried liking all the modern parts of the world but he missed the old days where things were a lot simpler. He was just glad he had you to help him through it. 
“Yeah well it’s lucky I didn’t throw it out the car.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of “piece of crap” and it makes you giggle. “It’s not funny doll.” 
“It’s kinda funny.” 
“I hate you.” He jokes. 
“No you don’t.” You manage to reply through your laughter. 
“You’re right I don’t. So what do you want for dinner?”
You take a second to think, “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.” 
“I could do a cheeseburger, I’m near that burger place anyways.” 
“Could you get some fries too? Oh! And a milkshake? The one with the oreo pieces? Please.” He couldn’t see but your pouty lip had come out. 
“Anything you want doll.” 
“Thanks babe, how long do you think you’ll be?”
“Should be like 20 minutes, do you wanna watch something while we eat?” 
“You read my mind! I’ll set it up in time for you coming home.” 
“Okay, won’t be long. Love you.” 
“Love you too.” Bucky’s about to hang up before you quickly start speaking again. “Bucky?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Could you get me extra pickles on my burger?” 
You hear him scoff a little then laugh, “I’m hanging up now.” 
“Byeee.” You trail off until the call ends. You were never gonna let him live this one down.
2K notes · View notes
velaryon-seahores · 8 months
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Eclipsed love. Part III
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Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader ( Modern au )
synopsis : You and Aemond shared a romantic bond during your high school years. However, your relationship took a turn when an unexpected pregnancy altered the dynamics. Aemond, driven by aspirations of pursuing a career in medicine, struggled to reconcile his dreams with the newfound responsibilities. Meanwhile, the financial constraints and fear of revealing the situation to your strict parents left you without options, making abortion unattainable. When Aemond chose to end the relationship, you made the difficult decision to vanish, seeking a fresh start. Years later, your son fell seriously ill, necessitating medical attention. The twist in the tale was that the doctor who held the key to your son's recovery happened to be none other than his biological father, Aemond.
Warning: Angst. Physical fights. blood.
A/n : This is really dramatic I listened to my angst playlist on repeat while writing it soo yup 😭
Like comments and rebolgs are highly appreciated! ❤️
Part I Part II Prat IV
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Aemond's voice quivered as he choked out the words, "Why did you tell me you had an abortion?" His brows furrowed, and his eyes were swollen and raw, evidence of countless tears shed.
Your heart pounded in your chest, a tumultuous mix of anger and hurt surging within you. How could he stand there, looking so wounded by your revelation? You stared at him, aghast and disgusted. The audacity of it all, him daring to confront you like this.
"Isn't that what you wanted to hear?" Your voice trembled with seething anger, teeth gritted so hard it felt like they might shatter. You turned away, desperate to escape the turmoil he'd unleashed, but his grip tightened on your hand, holding you as though you were his lifeline in a stormy sea.
"Can we talk?" Aemond's voice quivered, his fear of rejection palpable. This conversation wasn't just for himself; it was an attempt to mend the shattered remnants of your shared history, to give you both a chance at closure. "Please, y/n."
Panic bubbled up inside you, a maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume you whole. It felt like a haunting memory resurfacing, one you'd fought relentlessly to bury, memories that had once shattered your very soul. You let out a frustrated cry, abandoning the sandwich in your hand to slap him across the face. "Let go of me!"
Aemond groaned, finally releasing his hold on you. You both stood there, chests heaving, locked in a tense gaze.
In his eyes, you saw remorse, pain, disappointment, and a profound sadness.
And in yours, he saw a blaze of anger, the deep wounds of hurt, a lingering sense of disgust, and an ache that cut to your core.
He watched you begin to retreat, your vision blurred by tears, and before you could escape, he hurriedly followed.
His arms encircled your trembling form, effortlessly lifting you from the ground. You struggled against his hold, but he was unyielding, and the next thing you knew, you were tossed onto a bed in an empty patient room.
As your heart raced, you scrambled to your feet, desperate to escape, but he moved faster, his trembling hand locking the door before he stood as a formidable barrier in your path.
"Let me go!" Your voice tore through the room, a gut-wrenching scream born of anguish. "I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, I don't want you anywhere near me! Let me go!"
"I will," his voice quivered, his outstretched hand aching for your touch. Yet, as you slapped it away and retreated, he hung his head in despair. "I swear I will, but please, just listen."
Tears streamed down your face, mingling with your rage, and you lashed out, the blows falling upon him like a tempest. Each strike a testament to the agony within you, each slap an expression of the torment that had engulfed your soul.
Aemond seized your trembling hand, his teary, red eye locking onto yours with a haunting intensity. Desperation etched across his face like a scar. "I know," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper and his face was closer to yours "I know. I'm a wretched excuse for a human being, undeserving of your forgiveness, undeserving of anything. But I'm begging you, please. I won't release you until you've hear me, y/n."
The room seemed to close in on you, the weight of emotions unbearable, as you stood locked in this heart-wrenching standoff, your souls entangled in a web of pain and regret.
The room seemed to close in on you, the weight of emotions unbearable, as you stood locked in this heart-wrenching standoff, your souls entangled in a web of pain and regret.
You yanked your hand away from him and turned around, crossing your arms and looking at the wall. There’s no escaping, he made it clear.
Aemond wiped the tears of his face, small gasps leaving his lips as he got closer to you.
“ Don’t get any closer!” Your voice cracked, your gaze was sill fixed on the wall in front of you
He nodded rapidly with new tears leaving his eyes. The pain he caused must be so great to the point you can’t even look at him.
"Y/n... I understand the gravity of my actions, the pain I've caused. I don't expect your forgiveness; all I wish is to make things right by you, by our child," he begins, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to know that you've never left my thoughts, not for a single day. I kept in touch with your mother and friends. I visit your home every year. I'd lock myself in your room, yearning for that one day you might walk in, to find you there—happy, healthy, and alive."
A gasp escaped the both of you. Yours, at reminder of the deep ache for your mother; his, at reflection of the terror he felt upon realizing the weight of his actions.
The room felt stifling, the words too much to bear. You longed to escape, to return to your son.
"I attempted to erase you from my mind. I buried myself in books and distractions, trying to forget you, but I couldn't. I tried to move on, find someone new, but my heart only craves you. I was blind to what I had until I lost you—the only genuine love in my life," His eyes were locked onto you, filled with an intense desire to hold you, to find solace in your embrace, just like he used to when he was upset when he was younger. He yearned for your comforting touch, for you to soothe his pain with the same lullabies you used to sing to him.
He yearned for you.
"I got accepted into college and suppressed my feelings for a year, focusing on studies. But when my father passed, I realized it wasn't worth it. Losing you, the future we envisioned, raising our child together... it held no value. My father never acknowledged me, never expressed pride. I was foolish to think that losing you would somehow make it all worthwhile," he admits, his voice cracking under the weight of his words. Your choked sound halts him.
Facing him, pain etched across your features, anger replaced by raw hurt.
"So, it would've been worth it?" Your voice trembles, dripping with pain. "Losing me, ruining my life, would've been worth it if your father had acknowledged you, if he'd been proud of you?"
Aemond's confusion fills his gaze, his eyes searching for understanding. "No, no, that's not what I meant!"
"Really?" you retort, voice laden with anguish. "Then what did you mean?"
"Y/n, even if he acknowledged me, it wouldn't be worth it. Nothing is worth losing you—there's no happiness, no love, nothing without you! A life with you is my only dream!" he implores desperately.
"Hell, you say?" you say in disbelief, your voice heavy with the weight of your own suffering. "I lost my family! I lost my best friend! I dropped out of school! I had to move away to a place where I knew nobody! I had to work and raise a child all on my own! I had to give up on my dreams to make sure my son could achieve his!"
Fresh tears spilled from Aemond's eyes as he starts to sob, his voice heavy with remorse. "I'm so sorry," he cried out, his words filled with regret,
Tears stream down your face as you vigorously shake your head, your voice quivering with raw emotion. With a shaky breath, you muster the strength to speak, your words laced with pain. "No, you don't get to apologize. You don't get to apologize."
Opening your tear-filled eyes, you lock your gaze onto him, your voice breaking as you pour out your heart. "I was ready to sacrifice it all for you. I was prepared to abandon my dreams, to drop out of school and care for our child while you pursued yours. I wanted to help you through your exams, to be your biggest supporter, to proudly watch you graduate, holding our son, while I told the world how amazing you are. I was never going to force you to give up your aspirations. I was willing to stand by your side, to fight your battles, even against your disapproving father, because I believed in you. I promised to be your unwavering support, and I was determined to keep that promise until you shattered me and took away everything I held dear."
As Aemond reaches out to you, you step back, your eyes weary and burdened by the pain you've endured. "But that's not even the worst part," you continue, your voice now weary, your eyes revealing the depth of your suffering.“ I love my son, with every fiber of my being. I would give him my own heart if it meant that he would be able to live happily, but do you know how it cuts me deep to look in his eyes? Because every time I look, I see you. Do you know it pains me when I see him acts like you? How my heart is ripped apart when he behaves and talk like you. How it kills me that he looks like you? So don’t you dare stand there and tell me you have been through hell “
You crumpled onto the bed, sobs racking your body. Aemond reached for you, instinctively pulling you into an embrace. But you pushed him away.
Your emotions explode in a torrent of anger and despair. With a scream that carries the weight of all the pain you've concealed within, you lash out, slapping Aemond's face with every ounce of strength you possess. "I hate you!" you scream, each word dripping with venom. "I regret everything," you continue, your voice choked with sorrow and rage. With each strike, you pour out your heart, each hit a stark reminder of the anguish he's caused. "I regret loving you, kissing you," you seethe, your voice quivering with intensity. "I regret every 'I love you.' I regret you, all of you!" The pain and betrayal you feel are palpable in the room as you continue to attack him. "I wish I never laid my eyes on you!" Each word is punctuated by another slap or hit.
Aemond seized your hands once more, turning your fragile form around. He enfolded you in a tight embrace, tears streaming down his face as he pressed his wet cheek against your neck.
Once, his embrace had been your sanctuary, a haven where you could seek solace after the most grueling days, a sanctuary where you found refuge after the most disheartening exams. But now, in this moment of shattered love and broken promises, it was a prison from which you yearned to escape.
"Let me go!" You cried out, your voice filled with anguish, your body writhing in his grasp. You scratched at his arms, dug your fingers into his flesh, every gesture an attempt to inflict as much pain as possible. "Let me go!"
"I love you, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling, his words a fragile plea. "I will always love you, and I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry for everything. If only... if only I could turn back time, I would. I would give anything to undo the past."
With those words, he released you, the feeling of his touch slipping away. You heard the door click, sealing your separation from him.
Turning to face him, you summoned the last shreds of your strength, your hand connecting with his cheek in a final, painful slap. "Fuck you."
And with that, you fled from the room.
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You rushed back to your room, flinging the door open. As it slammed shut behind you, you crumpled to the floor, unleashing a heart-wrenching cry that pierced the silence. The sound was so agonizing that it instantly drew your son and Qoren, who sprinted to your side as if propelled by sheer instinct.
Qoren gently scooped you up from the cold floor, his arms a comforting refuge, while your son knelt beside you, his small hand searching for yours, eager to offer his tiny but unwavering support.
"I hate him," you managed to choke out between sobs, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartache.
Qoren's jaw clenched, his eyes hardening with a mixture of concern and anger. "Everything will be fine," he reassured you, his arms rocking you back and forth in a soothing rhythm.
"I told him not to bother you!" your son, Luke, piped up, his young voice tinged with a hint of defiance.
Qoren's head snapped in Luke's direction. "He was here?"
"Yes," Luke replied, his gaze unwavering. "He was looking for mom and he apologized to me, as he should. Not that I'll accept it."
Qoren nodded rapidly, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He looked down at you, his expression one of determination. "Where is he?"
"Qoren, please," you implored, wanting nothing more than for this painful chapter to end and for your life to return to normal, focusing solely on your son.
Reluctantly, Qoren released you from his grasp and walked over to Luke's bed, gently placing you down. Your son crawled after you, his little arms wrapping around you, mirroring Qoren's movements in an attempt to comfort you.
"Where. Is. He?" Qoren's voice seethed with controlled anger.
"Qor—"
"Tell me!" he shouted.
You didn't want to reveal Aemond's whereabouts. You yearned for the entire ordeal to disappear, to resume the life you once knew, centered around your son and no one else.
"Tell me, or I swear I will turn this whole hospital upside down."
"We... we were in one of the patient's rooms near the cafeteria," you finally relented, your voice filled with defeat. "I... I don't know if he left."
Qoren clicked his tongue impatiently, his gaze shifting to Luke. "Look after your mother, little astronaut. I'll be back in a minute."
"Aye aye, captain," Luke grinned bravely.
Before Qoren left the room, you grabbed his hand, your eyes pleading with him. "Don't do anything stupid! Don't."
He simply stared at you, his resolve clear. He was undoubtedly going to take matters into his own hands.
Qoren stepped out of the room, his heart ablaze with an inferno of anger. In his eyes, you had always been more than a friend – you were a sister, a confidante, someone he fiercely protected. And when your son entered the world, it felt as if destiny had woven your lives together even tighter, making you a family in every sense.
He had raised the boy, handpicked his clothes and toys, even painted his room together. Nights were spent watching Star Wars movies, despite his indifference to them. Qoren was there for school drop-offs and pick-ups, attending every play, teaching him life's lessons. He cried when school trips took him away, for he was his son in every way except by blood. Even his own father saw your son as his grandson.
To Qoren, you and your child were his family, the stars in his universe. And he couldn't bear to stand idle, watching as Aemond threatened to unravel the world he'd helped build for you.
He scoured through room after room, his determination unwavering until his gaze fell upon the one that held the object of his anger. Settling on the bed, Aemond's distant gaze fixed ahead, lost in thoughts only he could comprehend.
"You.. You fucker!" Qoren shouted, his voice echoing with fury.
Aemond had no time to react as Qoren's hands grabbed him, hurling him violently to the cold, unforgiving floor. Qoren's fists rained down upon Aemond's face with merciless force, each blow driven by a potent mix of anger and a fierce desire to protect.
"Stay," he seethed, punctuating his rage with a punch. "Away," another punishing strike. "From," the onslaught continued. "My son!" Each word carried the weight of an entire world of hurt as Qoren relentlessly battered Aemond, each punch an embodiment of his determination to shield his loved ones.
Aemond made no attempt to resist or fight back; he lay there, passively accepting the barrage of blows, his hand lying limp at his side. He believed he deserved every bit of the agony he was enduring - the broken nose, the taste of his own blood seeping from his battered face. All of it was nothing to what he had put you through, so he will willingly take it.
"I deserve it," Aemond managed to utter, his voice tinged with self-loathing. Yet, his words only stoked Qoren's fury.
"Shut the fuck up!" Qoren roared, his rage manifesting in every bone-jarring punch.
Aemond's response was unexpected. He began to laugh, a twisted, bitter laughter that reverberated through the room. "I deserve it!" he declared, his voice growing louder, as if trying to drown out the pain with his defiance.
The commotion drew nurses and concerned bystanders into the room, desperately trying to pry Qoren away from his relentless assault. "Let go of me!" Qoren screamed, his voice a desperate plea. "Let go of me!"
Meanwhile, Aemond lay supine on the floor, his face masked in a grotesque tableau of crimson. His features were scarcely discernible beneath the smear of blood. but he seemed unfazed, a twisted smile on his face. "My Y/N," he mumbled, his voice hauntingly tender. "My sweet girl."
A nurse, her voice quivering, recognized him amidst the chaos. "Doctor Aemond!"
"My beautiful girl," he continued to murmur as they moved him to the bed. "My Y/N."
Voices buzzed around him, but all Aemond could see was your face.
"We need a neuro doctor!"
"Call in for a trauma doctor too!"
"Is this his eye?"
"No, that's his prosthetic eye!"
And then, as swiftly as it all began, everything dissolved into a haunting darkness, leaving behind only the haunting image of your face in Aemond's battered mind.
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When Aemond awoke, his eye roved around the dimly lit room. The relentless throbbing in his head drew a hiss of pain from his lips, and he instinctively cradled it in his trembling hand. The incessant beeping of machines only exacerbated his suffering.
"Aemond?" came a fragile voice from beside him. His head snapped towards it, and there she was - his sister Helaena.
Tears glistened in her eyes, and a sad smile graced her lips as she gazed at him.
"Helaena," he breathed her name, and the relief that flooded his voice was palpable.
She moved closer, her steps deliberate and tender. With a gentleness that belied the storm within him, she enfolded him in her embrace. Aemond's defenses crumbled, and he surrendered to the weight of his emotions once more.
Tears streamed down his face, much like they had that fateful night when he had returned home, a shattered man, realizing that you were truly gone. The ache was achingly familiar, the scene hauntingly reminiscent. Yet, this time, the pain was an unbearable weight, an avalanche of grief and remorse that threatened to consume him.
Helaena's arms held him, rocking him gently. "Shh, it's okay," she tried to calm him down.
"Nothing is okay," he choked on the words, his voice raw and ragged with pain.
"It's going to be," she murmured, her fingers tenderly caressing his disheveled hair.
They remained silent for a time, finding solace in each other's presence. Then, she gently broke the silence "I went to their room while you were sleeping," she confessed.
Aemond didn't respond, but his grip on her tightened, a silent plea for her to continue.
"Qoren wouldn't let me in," she continued "He said she was sleeping, but I saw him. He was watching from the window."
At the mention of Lucerys, Aemond buried his face deeper into Helaena's neck, his tears dampening her shoulder.
"He looks like you," Helaena whispered through her own tears, "so much like you."
Aemond's heart ached with the mention of his son. He nodded, unable to speak.
"I assume the talk didn't go well?" Helaena asked gently, wiping the tears from her face
Aemond finally found his voice, filled with regret. "I think I made it worse."
Helaena's response was filled with sisterly assurance. "I will talk to her tomorrow."
Aemond looked up at her, his eyes filled with pleading remorse. "Tell her I'm sorry, please."
"I will," she promised, her voice unwavering.
She cradled his head against her shoulder and neck, rocking him back and forth.
"I don't want to burden you with this now, but I must," she said softly. "Mother is coming tomorrow."
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I apologize if I didn’t include everyone, I tried but it won’t let me.
What do you think Alicent would do?
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lure-of-writing · 7 months
Text
Why can't we?
Authors Note: Oh My gosh guys, the love on part two was insane, truly thank you so much. It makes me so happy seeing all the comments and reposts it means the most to me. Part three is officially here and I am so excited for you to read it and I can't wait to see what you guys think about it. Without giving the ending away I would love to hear what you guys think about an alternative ending? Anyways if you have any request or ideas please send them in and again thank you all so much!
Summary: After leaving the night court you begin to find your place in your new life, that is until the night court comes to be directly in your home.
Word count: 4.0k
Warnings: Angst, arguing, (Let me know if I forgot any!)
Part one: Never been good enough
Part Two: Left in regret
Thesan was waiting for your arrival with the captain of the peregryn army in the common area of his home. They had been waiting no more for ten minutes until they heard the thundering of wings and watched as Kolos landed with you in his arms.
Kolos was second in command under his captain and a lifelong friend of yours. Having been raised alongside him you knew he would never pass judgment upon you and also provide the support you would undoubtedly need in the following weeks as you figured out how to put your life back together. You were born into the dawn court but had chosen to leave with the idea of being able to be used to your full potential as a spy and you did in fact find that in the night court but you had also never regretted a decision as much as you also loved the people you met and memories you made from that said decision. 
“Y/n welcome back home to the dawn court, we have missed you sincerely.” Thesan the living embodiment of calm energy welcomed you with open arms and a warm hug. “I assume all went well?” you could tell that the question was directed at Kolos “Yes they didn’t try to stop us but I think y/n has something very important to tell the two of you.” Without another word Thesan took a seat in a chair and motioned for everyone to do the same. “Azriel…Azriel is my mate.”  you watched with a baited breath for anyone to say anything and for a while no one did that was until your high lord spoke up. “And how do you feel about that?” 
“Well considering that he's in love with Elain, not very great. But I am not going to force either of us to be in a relationship that the other does not want. He was only apologetic because we are mates. If we weren’t he would have never chosen me.” In the week that you had been residing back in your home court you had kept all this information to yourself, unwilling or maybe even unable to accept the cards you had been dealt but to finally tell someone other the Kolos felt like lifting a weight off your chest. Like it was a start in the right direction to leaving the past and starting anew. 
“This is certainly unexpected information.” the captain spoke up “Yeah you’re telling me.” a breathy laugh fell from your lips as you glanced at your high lord waiting to see what he had to say. “I guess that means I can expect letters from Rhysand or maybe even a visit from the night court?” Thesan looked at you in question. “Oh no, I don’t think that will be happening. I made myself very clear to Azriel that I didn’t want to be his second choice or anything like that. If I haven’t been good enough for him in the almost five hundred years of knowing him then why would I suddenly be good enough now? I’m not interested in partaking in those mind games.” 
“Very well. I support whatever decision you make. Always.” you bowed your head in appreciation to the kind ruler. For as long as you remember Thesan has always been kind to you, always let you do as you wish and have control over your own life. He never offered any input unless asked and always listened with compassion while allowing you to figure out your own life, the least you could do is serve in his court to at least restart to repay him for all the care and compassion he has shown you in life. “Thesan? If you would allow it, I would be honored to serve in your court again, it's the least I can do to repay the kindness you have shown me.”  you could tell the captain was uneasy with your request and it made sense you had just come from the night court claiming Azriel as your mate and now wanted to serve in his lover's court. But truly you wanted nothing more than to leave behind the past and start building your new life in the dawn court. The court you were always supposed to be in. “It would be an honor to have you serve in my court.” 
Surprisingly it had been almost six months after leaving before the night court reached out to set up a meeting with you and the high lord but upon your request it was denied. You had finally settled into a routine not only within the court but within your own life and you had no plans of having any member of letting the night court interrupt that. “So how many more times do you think that they are going to send a letter before they get the hit?” Kolos sat at the kitchen table and watched as you made the both of them breakfast. “Honestly I don’t know. It's one thing in Rhysand is sending them himself but it's another if Azriel is asking him to send them. You know how Illyrians are, too stubborn for their own good.” Kolos couldn’t help but laugh at your statement for it held nothing but truth. “I suppose you are not wrong but what happens if there is a high lords meeting? You will be expected to attend.” The food was set before him as you moved to take the seat next to him. You placed you head on your head and smiled at him “It's a good thing I have my own personal warrior to protect me” 
During the first initial weeks you stayed in the court palace but soon after you moved into Kolos house. At first it was only because you would never pass up the opportunity to live with your friend, especially in the time of trying to move past your old life of the night court and what's a better idea then moving forwards with the support of a lifelong friend. As the six months came and went you found yourself becoming interested in Kolos and it was safe to say that the same could be said for him. The line that was becoming increasingly more blurred of friends and lovers had never been crossed but something told you that it would be very soon. 
You were at the daily meeting with Thesan and all of his other trusted advisors including Kolos when the announcement was made. “Rhysand has requested a high lords meeting, he also asks that it be held here.” there it was, the final card that you knew Rhysand had to play. Unlike most courts, Thesan had two emissaries, one was an older male and the other was you. He handled the day and night court while you handled the summer, spring, autumn and winter court. Theo, your counterpart, could not handle the likes of Berons offspring but unlike him nothing brought you more joy then the verbal sparring match that was bound to happen while dealing with Eris. Being in charge of the seasonal courts meant you had no idea what was happening with the other ones. Didn’t know it was escalating to the point of a high lords meeting being called but you also knew that when it came to Rhysands brothers he would stop at nothing to help them. 
You could feel everyone's eyes on you. Nobody knew the full reason as to why you had returned to the dawn court but your departure from the night court had piqued enough interest that the fae in the room were looking to you for the answer as to why Rhysand requested this meeting. You knew why but refused to acknowledge it. “And what exactly is the reason behind this meeting?” Kolos was quick to pull the attention away from yourself and onto him. “He wants to see how everyone is doing after the war and talk over next moves.” you watched as Thesan weighed his options. “Very well, the same rules apply as last time.”
The date of the meeting had been set for three months after the letter had been read, as it was to ensure each court would be able to attend despite their excuses. You had spent the morning getting ready trying to fight off the nerves of having to see your old family again when Kolos decided that he had enough of watching you fight the thoughts running loose in your head. Leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed he simply watched for a minute as you perfected your makeup. “You do know that if Azriel tries anything I will kick his ass.” startled you look through the mirror to meet his eyes. “You also do know that the last time there was a high lord meeting that he was able to get through the barriers? I mean you were there.” Kolos simply gave you a shrug and a sly smile before taking in your outfit. A beautiful dress adored your body, it was a soft blush orange color as if to mimic the color of the sunrise. The top of the dress was a v-neck that stopped just below the sternum with straps on the top that started on one side wrapped around your neck and connected to the other side as if to make an x on your chest. The sleeves see through and flowy while the bottom of your dress had two hip high slits on each side of your hips. The whole dress was stunning. 
Kolos knew that the dress you picked out was nothing out of your usual attire but after seeing you in night court clothes for so long it was nothing short of breathtaking to see you in dawn court attire, and it didn’t help that your dress was fit for a queen. As much as he would love to sit here and drink in your beauty for as long as you would let him, Thesan wouldn’t be pleased if you were last to the meeting that was being hosted in his court mostly for the reason of your old personal matters. So without another word said he ushered you to the door and from there you winnowed to the court palace. 
Ryhsand was fashionably late as always but of course not without letting his shadowsinger and general making sure it was safe first. You watched from afar as he appeared from thin air and assessed that it was safe for his high lord and lady. Soon after the inner circle appeared before your very eyes. You watched as they took their seats across from where you were sat at the side of Kolos. Thesan was in the middle and to the right of him was his captain and to his right was Kolos and at his side was you. It was a safe bet to make that they were surprised to see you on the side of warriors and not the side where the other important court members sat. 
You felt as if Azriel tried to catch your eyes but you refused to give him that satisfaction so instead you focused on watching all those in the room except the night court. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning by the way.�� Kolos had leaned over to whisper into your ear and intern place himself just mere inches from your face. “I see what you’re playing at but thank you.” you whispered back as you felt Azriel stare weigh on your body. “I’m not playing at anything, I simply forgot to compliment you earlier and thought I should do it before the chaos ensues.” 
From the moment Azriel arrived his eyes couldn’t leave your body. They assessed you from head to toe to make sure you were ok before taking in your outfit. The night court attire looked good on you but he hates to admit the dawn court was devastatingly beautiful. He took in every part of your exposed skin and wished he could keep the eyes of every male and female off of you so that nobody got the idea of approaching you. 
Azriel knew that you were avoiding making eye contact with him and anyone else from the inner circle and he would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt but he also knew he was to blame. But nine months had passed since he seen you last and he wanted nothing more than to sit down and be able to explain everything, to beg for your forgiveness and make the mating bond work. In those first six months Azriel sent letter after letter along with Rhysand pleading for you to come back and just talk to him but eventually he realized you wouldn’t so he asked Rhysand to call this meeting in hopes that he would get a moment alone with you to tell you everything he needed to say. 
What Azriel didn’t account for was for you to be seated directly next to the random man he saw when you had come back to the house of wind to collect your belongings. He also didn’t account for the said random man to put his face so close to yours that if you moved you would be kissing. Azriel watched as the man whispered something in your ear and you turned to face him with a light blush now coloring your cheeks and soft smile gracing your features and before he knew it he was in between the two of you.
“Don’t ever get that close to my mate again.” Azriels words were thinly veiled with a promise of a threat. “Who is to say that she is your mate shadowsinger? As far as I knew you were with the middle Archeron sister. What was her name again? Ella? No…it’s Elain right?” Kolos knew that he was dancing on the edge of a fine line when it came to upsetting Azriel but he also knew that he was a warrior in his own right and could also handle his own if it came down to a fight. 
It was as if you had been watching everything happen in slow motion. From Kolos complimenting you to Azriel appearing right before you and now them bickering. Snapping out from the haze you were in you grabbed Azriels arm marched him back over to the night court and demanded that Rhysand winnow you to the river house.  
“What the hell were you thinking?” you yelled at your so-called mate. Without another thought you stalked up to Azriel and started pushing an accusing finger into his chest. “What made you think you had the right to do that! In front of the other courts also? Are you out of your mind?” Azriel had nothing to say, he had never seen you this mad, not even when you were yelling at him about Elain. He could see the redness creep up your neck and slowly take over your face, he watched as the rage built behind your eyes. Backing away from him you turn to look at the rest of the group and spot Elain sitting in the corner holding nyx. The person who started this all. You leveled her a glare before turning your attention back to the man who decided to play hero when it wasn’t necessary. 
“Do you really think I needed you to come to my rescue like some damsel in distress? I know that this might be new news to you but I am no such thing and have never needed your rescuing, especially not now. That man you decided to threaten was Kolos, my childhood best friend for your information since you seem to think he's some sort of threat to my life. He will never be someone I need saved from. You on the other hand, well the same can’t be said for you.”  
“I know you don’t need me to save you but y/n, that man could have kissed you if he had leaned forward. Please try to see that from my point of view. He may be a childhood friend of yours but you are my mate and I can’t just allow another male around you like that.” If you weren’t mad before then now you were livid. How dare he talk about someone being close enough to kiss you when the whole inner circle knew that he and Elain were doing much worse. “Let's get one thing clear, Azriel, I may be your mate but I do not want this bond. I refuse to let myself fall into a relationship where I am only wanted because the bond makes you want me. So if I want another male to kiss me then that is my decision only, you will have no input.” Once again you were face to face with Azirel, anger radiating from your very body. “You want me to look at that situation from your point of view? Ok Azriel, then let's look at you and Elain from my point of view shall we? How about all those times when she purposefully pushed herself into you or the times when she would need “extra” help with something as simple as stretching or when you two would sit and whisper to each other at family dinners. You also could have kissed her if you happened to move any closer. Plus let's not act like you two are innocent, everyone here knows what you two did behind closed doors. Oh and one last thing Azirel you do not allow who gets to be around me. You never have and you never will.”  
Through the mating bond Azriel could feel your resentment not only towards him but also the situation and it was the first time the spy master could truly say he was feeling panicked. Azriel knew he had made a grave mistake but he also knew that he would have never even looked in Elains direction if he knew about the mating bond. If only you could see that he would spend the rest of his life apologizing for the pain he caused you if you would let him close enough to do so. He just had to get you to understand how sorry he was. 
Rhysand could see that the situation was escalating on your part and that Azriel needed a minute to think of how to approach you so he tried to step in and help. “Y/n I know that you are upset with Azriel, but I think you need to step back from the situation and take a moment to calm down.” Rhysand may be a high lord but the pure hostility coming from you could rival his own power and deep down he knew he made a mistake interjecting. 
“I need to calm down Rhysand? That's hilarious coming from you, I mean I do remember you being willing to kill Tamlin with your own bare hands for what he did to feyre. But I need to calm down? Alright.” Turning back around to deal with Azriel you found him on his knees before you. “Y/n I know that I fucked up. I know that I should have realized sooner that you had feelings for me because that is my job as spymaster to be aware of the slightest things and I am sorry that I failed to see that, but you have to understand, if I had known about the bond I would have never even looked in Elains direction. I know I can’t control who's around you but you have to understand I just want to keep you safe. And I know that Elain and I aren’t innocent but I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you, you just have to let me.”
For a second all you could do is stare down at Azriel and feel his sorrow through the bond. And for a second you wanted to forgive him but deep down you knew that this moment would be something you could never let go, never get past. You knew that Azirel could spend the next thousand years apologizing but some part of you would never be able to fully trust him. And the realization broke your heart but you knew you also owed it to yourself to never be treated this way no matter the circumstance. A heartbeat later you knew the choice you had to make. 
“Azriel, get up.” He had never heard your voice so dejected before and he knew something was wrong. “ I do not care that you were with Elain. Did it make me happy? No. but you were also with her before I knew about the bond so I guess it doesn’t matter but what does matter is that up until that point I had spent hundreds of years showing you my love with no acknowledgement ever but suddenly this “wholesome” human girl appeared ,who was afraid of fae mind you, and you were infatuated with her as if she hung the moon and the stars. What I do care about is that if it weren’t for the bond we share you would have never considered picking me instead of her, would have never looked my way. I mean hell you forgot me on the battlefield because Elain needed you.” 
The inner circle watched as you took a frustrated breath in while trying to collect your emotions and they held their breaths also while waiting for you to say something else. “I have wanted a mate for as long as I knew about their existence and as much as I want to have this with you Azriel I can’t. There will always be a piece of me that can’t let this go. You could spend forever apologizing but I will never be able to fully accept it, and neither of us deserve that. I deserve to never be anything but the only choice and you deserve to be with someone who doesn’t have an ounce of resentment in their heart towards you. So no, I can’t do this.” 
“Why can’t you see that I am picking you! I want you! I want this bond, I want this relationship!  If this is what you want and it's what I want, why can’t we make this work? I would rather have you and you be mad at me for the pain I’ve caused you then to not have you at all. I will grovel at your feet until you see that I want this, if that's what I have to. I will do anything. Please…please just let's at least try.” Azirel had never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. Anger, heartbreak, nerves. You name it he's experiencing it waiting for your response. 
“I’m…. I am so sorry Azriel. I can’t. At least not right now. I need time to process and to heal. I need time away from you and this and the whole situation. I need to find the version of me that is not the one who would do anything for an ounce of your attention. I am not saying no for forever but for now I am and for however long else I need. I won’t do anything to the bond but please don’t send me your emotions. I need to sort mine out without trying to figure out yours also. I do not know how long it will take but maybe someday in the future we can try again.” 
With the permission from Thesan, Kolos winnowed to the river house to make sure you were ok and to bring you back from the night court. What he wasn’t expecting to find was Azriel on his knees before pleading for your forgiveness. He watched from afar as you explained why the mating bond couldn’t be. He disregarded Azriels form as you turned away from him and walked towards himself. Kolos wasn’t sure how you knew he was there considering you never once looked away from Azriel until you walked away but without any words needed he took your hand and winnowed away back to the dawn court to begin your healing.
Taglist: @j-pendragonx , @piceous21 , @harrystylesfan2686 , @kemillyfreitas , @naturakaashi , @kalulakunundrum , @thelov3lybookworm , @marina468 , @feyres-fireheart , @thalia-as-blog , @blurredlamplight , @wallacewillow0773638 , @inkedaztec
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auroralwriting · 3 months
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can’t take my charm ౨ৎ
ellie williams x singer!fem!reader
synopsis: you’re jackson’s very lovely performer, every wednesday, friday, and sunday nights performing at the local bar for the whole town. ellie is, as always, enamored with you.
haha yes this is based off of lucy gray from the hunger games.. i have multiple obsessions
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“hey, we got ‘bout five minutes till we go on,” your bandmate, claire, said as she stuck her head in the bathroom you resided in. you were adjusting your outfit and hair, making sure you looked perfect.
you hummed for a second, “alright, i think i’m ready.”
“and you look amazing as always,” claire smiled, leading you to the rest of the band.
over the years, tommy helped you gather instruments and other useful things such as your microphone to help you perform. you really owed him.
you grabbed your mic and as you all walked out onto the small, makeshift stage, everyone cheered. you hooked your microphone up to the cord.
“hey, ya’ll!” you say cheerfully into the mic. “how’re we feelin’ tonight?”
applause and whistles followed, and you smiled. “are you ready to hear some music?” again, more applause.
you heard you drummer start counting in as the band began to play. everyone in the crowed started to move, some dancing, some just swaying to the beat while watching you.
you quickly found those perfect eyes staring at you from the bar. that’s where ellie sat, watching you with a smile on her face. you always caught her eye. sometimes you’d talk after your set. she always complimented you. you complimented her. there was a mutual pinning between you both.
“can’t take my charm, can’t take my humor,” you start to sing. everyone starts to cheer as your voice entered. you saw ellie whistle.
“thinkin’ you’re so fine, thinkin’ you can have mine, thinkin’ you’re in control,”
the song ended soon after, cheer and applause erupting.
this next song, well, it was a doosey. your bandmates didn’t take long to catch onto your and ellie’s infatuation with each other. they encouraged you to write a song about it. and here you were, about to perform it for everyone, including her.
“now ya’ll, this next one is somethin’ special,” you begin to say. everyone quiets softly to listen.
“this one’s about someone, someone i feel’s just too special to not have a song,” small cheers erupt.
you nod to your band who slowly starts the song. it didn’t take long for partners to start dancing. it was a good song to do that to.
“everyone’s born as clean as a whistle,” you sing. “fresh as a daisy, not a bit crazy,”
ellie’s eyes pour into your own. you can’t peel yours from hers. your singing directly into her soul.
“this world, it’s dark, this world, it’s scary. i’ve taken some hits, no wonder i’m weary. it’s why i need you. you’re as pure as the driven snow.”
as you sing, jesse sits next to ellie, nudging her. she doesn’t look away from you.
“lover girl’s written you a song, eh?” jesse teases.
“shut up,” ellie remarked softly. she wanted to hear you. she wanted to soak in every word you sang, memorize it and keep it forever.
jesse just smiled and walked back to dina, who couldn’t help but giggle at ellie’s reaction to your song.
it ended with your words, the biggest applause of the night erupting. you give a small bow, not pausing to speak but allowing the band to start playing another upbeat song.
it went on like this for a few sets. once your band ended and a duo went to take your place, you looked at claire nervously.
“girl,” its like she read your mind, “go talk to her. she couldn’t take her eyes off ya.”
you nodded and went into the crowed of people, trying to push through everyone to get to the bar. you could just see it, but it was loud, and everyone was dancing.
suddenly, your hand was captured in someone else’s being dragged to the bar. you knew it was ellie guiding you.
one you emerged from the crowd, there she was. she got up on her seat and patted the one next to her. you sat down and turned your seat to her.
“hey pretty girl,” ellie flirted. “you sounded amazing.”
“thank you, els.” you smiled bashfully.
there was a pause. you wanted to ask her about the song. her song.
“i loved the song,” it was like ellie read your mind. “it was beautiful.”
you looked down, “it’s for you,”
“for me?” ellie teased, “little old me?” she laughed at your embarrassed face. she took your hands in hers. “i loved it, sweets. i wish i could hear it over and over again.”
you shrugged, smiling a little. “then just ask,”
ellie raised an eyebrow at you, and you got the hint. you laughed slightly and leaned closer to her.
“everyone wants to be like a hero,” you sing while laughing with ellie. “the cake with the cream, the doer not dreamer,”
“i fucking love your voice,” ellie smiled. “it’s so beautiful. just like you,”
your face turned bright red at this. “i think your beautiful, too,”
“maybe sometime i can play guitar and you can sing for me,” ellie suggests, nudging you with her shoulder, now incredibly close. legs touching, arms basically touching.
“you play?” you ask as she nods.
“joel taught me,” she smiles.
her fingers find the bottom of your chin, turning your head to face her. neither of you said anything, you didn’t have to. it didn’t take long before her lips were pressed against your own.
“such a little charmer,” ellie teases once you pull away, “feeling me in with a song,”
you laugh, “i already had you before that,”
“yeah,” ellie nods, hand in yours, her thumb rubbing your hand softly, “you did.”
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dateko · 8 months
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˚。⋆ [4:01 AM] GOJO SATORU
a/n: it has come to absolutely no one's surprise that i have dropped yet another poorly written timestamp in which two people lie in bed... i spent the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity and typed whatever this mess is... enjoy!
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The day barely rises and the moon faintly lingers when Satoru wakes for yet another tedious work trip. Allowing himself to indulge in the quiet, the sorcerer’s eyes trace every inch of the figure sleeping beside him, committing every line and dot to memory. A soft mumble leaves his lips, internally fighting himself with the thought of having to leave you alone once again.
He watches you fondly with a familiar sense of longing. He wonders if you’re aware of how much he thinks about you, how much his heart burns at the mere thought of you, wanting only you to be with him. You came into his life so suddenly, catching him in a moment that threw him into a whirlwind of weakness. Yet even after all of it, after every twist and turn, Satoru is nothing but proud to be yours.
Beneath the bulky comforter, your limbs are intertwined with his in a perfect tango. Like a puzzle piece, you’re slotted perfectly against his broad chest, face buried beneath the white tufts of hair. Satoru sighs again, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he plants a feathery kiss atop your temple, signaling his inevitable departure.
To this, do you begin to stir, grumbling and muttering something Satoru isn’t sure he can decipher. His hands cradle your head, thumbs sliding across your heavy eyelids as he watches you open your tired eyes in a way that he thinks could kill him instantly. With one eye fully open and seeing, you look at your partner with a pout, tilting your head to feel more of his warmth. 
Already knowing where he’d be off to in a few minutes, you still offer him a pair of pleading eyes. “Not yet,” Your hand finds his wrist and the croak in your voice causes you to wince. “Can’t you stay?” 
The two of you know more than well that the answer was out of the question. Yet you both continue to hold on and relive this same morning exchange time and time again, trading turns in a dance to ask the other if they could simply just… Stay. 
For Jujutsu sorcerers, there is never an option, nor is there a choice to stay. With the line of work you share, there are only so many of you that can go on missions. Always going, fighting, leaving. Nothing is ever enough, and no one ever stays. So many of you repeatedly risk lives and fight without end. And if there isn’t you, there’s Gojo Satoru. He goes where he’s needed, and he goes anywhere where he can to rewrite the world. The very world that was altered the day he was born.
When you remind him of this, Satoru looks at you as if he’s ventured through every universe. With a voice so confident and unwavering eyes that hold nothing but truth, he answers that the only place he needs to be in is with you. 
“Sweetheart, we both know I can’t be late… Again.” Gojo whines, dropping his hand from your face.
“Oh? Since when did you care about being late?” 
“I don’t.”
“Then stay here with me, just for a little bit.” You try again, poking him beneath the covers and encasing his waist with your legs. “Don’t tell me someone’s cursed you…”  
He laughs at your words, a smile reaching his ears. You’re too much like him these days. The simple thought of that scared him. The way you act so carefree, how you can still smile and readily take on anything that may come your way. It lights a fire of fear in him, knowing you’ve placed all your trust in him. That wall you’ve once surrounded yourself with crumbled completely just by his existence alone.
“The only curse I have is you.” Satoru teases, flicking your forehead. You let out a groan and pull yourself into him, trying to be as close to your lover as possible. Satoru can’t help but hold you tighter, almost as if you’d slip away from his grasp. Whatever mission he had today could wait for a few more minutes. The warmth that you radiated was a more pressing matter.
“I’ll tell you what…” You trail off, eyeing the way his deft fingers play with your own. They seem to linger around your fourth finger, playing with something imaginary, almost as if there was something sitting there. “I’ll let you go if you can escape my grasp!”
“What a challenge.” Satoru smirks.
Your attempt to cage the strongest in your arms is fruitless from the very start. There was no one that could ever counter his strength. They would be a fool if they even endeavored in such an act. The sorcerer is swift in his moments, and within a blink, you are pushed flat against the pillows. 
Hovering over your delicate figure, a winsome smile graces his lips. “I win.”
Huffing, you bring your palms up to frame his sharp face. Satoru mirrors the gaze you have on him, watching your features carefully, afraid to leave you out of his sight. He wonders if you knew that the world he fought so hard to protect was holding him so delicately. 
“Be good ‘til I get back, okay? We can stay in bed all day long.” 
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ivnxrori · 26 days
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When Sun and Moon meet - S1
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Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers
As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage
Masterlist
҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 1 - Welcome Avatar
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“The avatar is here” The guard spoke up as my eyes widened in shock. “The…avatar…?” The guard nodded at my question. I genuinely thought the avatar had died a while ago but I guess they were just rumors? “Chief Arnook wants both of the princesses and prince to attend the gathering for the avatar” I nodded as I went to get up to follow the guards. It's been a year since Sivoy, our youngest brother, was born. Not a lot has changed over the years, except knowing probably this year is going to change us the most. Yue is getting engaged to someone who she has been crying about. I will never forget when she broke down in front of me in my room. I held her, that's all. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't whisper any reassuring words to her or tell her it's going to be okay. The truth is, I was consumed by my own fears of my own arranged marriage next year. It's selfish yes, especially it isn't my situation currently but it will be sooner or later.
We both make it towards the feast, also having Yue’s special announcement of her being able to get married. What everyone else doesn't know is that she is already engaged. I follow her lead, sitting next to her at the edge of the table looking at the variety of foods, which is all seafood. I take a quick peek of our surroundings and see our sister tribe. A sister and a brother which I assume, including a young boy with a blue shaped arrow across his head. “The Avatar is quite young” I whisper to Yue as she nods. I continue watching the show Master Pakku has been presenting to us. It was intriguing, for sure but what was more enjoyable was a southern water tribe member poorly flirting with my sister. Getting called out by his own sister already. I stifled a laugh and just when I knew it, the whole thing has already ended. ҉ ☾
It was quite late at night, the moon spirit was shining brightly. I bowed slightly towards the moon and put my mask on. The mask was carved like a full mood with room for eyes, including feathers surrounding the mask. I pull up my hood from my jacket and go outside, quite far away from the other male waterbenders who were practicing. I mimic the movements that were taught to them. Yes, this is how I'm able to learn and use waterbending. I never know when to give up, I have been told many times by a variety of people. My dad specifically. “Hey! Young one!” I snap my head towards the sound of guards and before they could even ask a question, I disappear. “Where did he go?” one of the guards asked, clearing the mist lingering in the air from my leave. Home. I went home heavily breathing from almost getting caught. I'll just try again tomorrow.
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“It wasn't as fun after you left…” I wanted to drown. Oh how much I just wanted to flip this boat upside down to stop Yue and this Southern Water boy from flirting, and I could have flipped this boat around if there were no restrictions. The next thing I know that stopped me from day dreaming was the southern water boy falling off the ledge. I laughed softly, asking Yue “Do you even know his name?” while she was waving off to her new crush. “Sokka” She responded dreamily with a hint of red on her cheeks. My eyes widened with sudden worry “Yue…” The way I spoke was intended to remind her that she was an engaged lady. I doubt father would allow her to marry someone else, especially if he is constantly traveling. “I know” Yue cut me off with a disappointing tone I felt nothing but sorrow in the moment, what's worse I couldn't do anything to save her. I stayed silent, leaning slightly back hearing the water move around us.
I was able to stop by Yagoda’s place, there was no reason to but she taught me when I was very young, it was a way to make use of my water bending by my father. She only taught how to heal however but what more can you do in this kind of situation. It's only fair I show respect for her by bringing her food, supplies, trinkets or even my presence. Before I stepped foot I overheard her talking to…someone? I take a little peek, leaning my body so only my eyes would be visible towards the door. It was the southern water tribe girl! What is she doing here…? Looking further towards the door only to realize she’s a waterbender…She's a water bender! I could use her to somehow convince Master Pakku and my father. Yes, it sounds horrible. Using an important guest to my own advantage but it's beneficial for everyone, even her so it's not entirely selfish. I wasn't able to convince Master Pakku. Instead he told my father my plan which led me to get in more trouble than I already was. I'm just a princess, and that's all I will ever be. My head snapped up as I heard the Southern Water Tribe girl coming closer. I took the chance to grab her wrist and pull her to the side. “Hey! Who-” “It's me!” I said pointing to my very obvious white hair. “Oh you're the younger princess! What happened?” “You can waterbend? Correct?” I asked already knowing the answer “Yes…why?” “Because I feel like you can convince Master Pakku to allow us girls to waterbend” I whisper “A lot of girls have water bending abilities however they’re forced to keep it in because of the strict rules but!” I pointed at her “Your the southern side of the water tribe, maybe somehow show him your abilities and possibly convince him to allow girls to water bend” She looked at me confused. “How am I able to do that when I can't even learn whatever he is teaching?” I thought about it for a second until an idea popped into my head “Get it from your avatar friend! He is getting taught, right?” Her eyes widened as she nodded “You're right! Then I'll get it from him. Thank you…uh- princess…” I giggled “Y/N, just call me Y/N” “Katara” “Thank you Katara” I smiled as she walked away.
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And this was the last thing I wanted. Seeing Katara and Master Pakku fight with waterbending. “This is all my fault” I muttered under my breath. “Your fault?” Yue attempted to confirm my statement. “What?” I look at her confused. Did I really say that out loud? “You said something” “I'm sure I did not” “But I hear-”
A big wave of water hit the ice, hearing the splash turned me away from the conversation. Both Yue and I were wincing from the sound of the impact. Last thing I see is Katara with a bunch of icicles surrounding her. She…lost…
I sigh sadly as I go to grab Katara's betrothal necklace that laid on the icy floor. But before I was able to, “This is my necklace…” Master Pakku grabs it gently. I immediately walked back. Ah…so the southern tribe existed because Katara’s family members did not want to stay in an area with unnecessary rules. It was quick to piece together. I heard Yue’s breathing become unstable, so I turned to look at her but she didn't look back. She was slightly shaking and tears were brimming her blue eyes. “Yue…” I spoke softly and sadly, reaching for her shoulders but she ran, covering her eyes with her hands to prevent more tears from falling. “Yue!” I yelled, already planning to chase her only for the southern water tribe boy to pull me back. “I’ll get her” He gave a reassuring smile then ran towards Yue. Both of them slowly disappearing. I wonder if he knows why Yue was crying. I furrowed my eyebrows in pity and turned on my heel to go back. “Y/N!” Katara yelled out for me, I turned towards her direction. “Thank you” she said out of breath. “I didn't really do anything” “You helped me gain confidence” She smiled “Well…your welcome and thank you for…all of that” I patted her on the head and she laughed. “You're an amazing water bender” I said and turned to go home. I sigh sadly wondering if Yue is alright.
<- Back - Next ->
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a/n: I finished this quite quickly! ALSO THERE IS STILL NO ZUKO IM SORRYYY! I PROMISE ZUKO WILL BE THERE IN CHAPTER 2. The masterlist should be out by the time this chapter is out. This whole fic is COMPLETELY last minute like I started writing all of this today. BUT WOO impulsive decisions led me to post this. Also surprisingly, S1 of this series is literally almost ending LMAO. I think S1 is only like 4-5 chapters? I only finished Chapter 3 currently so im not sure. However I think S2 and S3 will be PACKED and im planning to add some extras in there too :D ALSO If you want to be in the taglist pls go ahead and comment or ask me :) Have a nice day!
-- Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months
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Push the Sky Away - Part One
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Lorra Stark) Chapter warnings: Angst. Canon typical violence. Mention of loss of virginity. Smut. Word count: ~6.5k
Summary: We are getting to know Aemond in this chapter. Some scene setting and world building, not much to be found of our OC until she is introduced towards the end. Laying the groundwork for what's to come later. Series masterlist.
Author's note: For @sapphirehearteyes. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
Fire and Blood, the infamous words of House Targaryen. It is a phrase that both haunts and eludes Aemond Targaryen from an early age, with its promise of greatness and constant reminder of all he will never be. 
The Targaryen name is the only thing of any value that Viserys has ever bestowed upon his sons. Aemond ponders whether his father’s disinterest in him is a result of the illness that weakens his body by the day, or if he simply has no room in his heart for the children borne of his second marriage. When he watches him interact with Rhaenyra, how he lights up in her presence in a way that he does not for him or his other siblings, he knows it is the latter.
The fireplace warms his skin, uncomfortably so, and despite the septa’s caution that he not sit so close, he refuses to budge. Sweat prickles the back of his neck, dampening and curling the ends of the hair that sticks to it. His discomfort is of little importance to him, he needs to remain within this proximity to the hearth in order to keep his egg warm, to ensure it hatches. It is a vigil he has kept for as long as he can remember, not moving until he is forced to bed with aching joints and soot covered hands. Unable to understand why it had never hatched in his cradle, he is certain that if he does his due diligence then soon he will have a dragon of his own.
His mother is alerted of his disobedience, and Alicent regards him with sadness in her large brown eyes, as she reaches for him.
“Come away, my dearest love, you will have a dragon of your own one day.”
He simply shakes his head. She could not understand. He does not want just any dragon, he wants his. There must be a reason why this particular egg was imparted upon him, otherwise it is all for nothing.
Despite this, day after day the hardened scales remain cool to the touch, little more than a rock between his tiny fingers. Perhaps placing it within the flames themselves will yield the result he hopes for?
He leans forward into the fireplace, heat blazing against his pale cheeks, and an acrid stench fills his nostrils. It is not until he is pulled forcefully back by the firm grasp of the septa that he realises the ends of his long, fair hair have singed, charred and blackened by the heat of the fire.
The egg is taken away after that, and Aemond weeps bitterly at the unfairness of it. It is his birthright, his only birthright, and now his sole purpose for being has been snatched from him; it seems there is little point to his existence now. He never sees the egg again, but he often wonders what would have happened if he had been left uninterrupted to place it upon the flames.
When Aemond is a little older, he begins to frequent the Dragonpit, for what is a Targaryen without their dragon? If he no longer has his own egg then he will find another, or perhaps claim a riderless mount of his own.
The warmth beneath the Grand Sept is different from that of the fireplace. It is dank and humid within the pit, the odour of droppings hangs heavy in the air, mixed with sulphur and ash. The smell sticks to his clothes when he returns to the Keep each evening, and momentarily he feels his chest swell with pride as his mother winkles her nose in disgust at the scent. It is the same look of distaste that she bestows upon both Helaena and Aegon when they return from flying, and for the briefest of moments he can pretend that he has too.
Yet still he goes to bed each evening dragonless, and begins each day anew with the bitter taste of jealousy in his mouth as he watches his nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys, interact with their dragons, Vermax and Arrax. Targaryens are considered to be closer to gods than men, so it feels like a cruel twist of fate that his half sister’s bastard offspring should be blessed with eggs that hatched in their cradles when his did not. Rhaenyra’s children have the favour of the Seven, whereas they seem to have turned a blind eye to him.
Aemond’s heart soars with hope when the dragonkeepers reveal to his sister that Dreamfyre is gravid. If she produces a healthy clutch of eggs then he can claim one, one that will actually hatch. In spite of the warnings that the she-dragon be left in peace during this sensitive time, and Helaena’s frustrated and repeated requests to stop disturbing her, he cannot resist the pull towards where she roosts within her darkened cave. If she is to lay an egg, then he wants to be the first to see it, to ensure he can take one for himself.
The blistering heat of the flames that Dreamfyre expels with her mighty roar of anger as he approaches yet again causes him to stagger backwards, wide eyed and slack jawed. But Aemond feels no fear as gazes into her fiery maw, his only thoughts are that one day soon a beast of his own will do much the same.
When Aegon claps a heavy hand upon his shoulder, steering him forward, and claiming a dragon has been found for him, he does his best to remain calm. He is used to his brother and nephews’ cruel japes at his expense. But as he stands at the top of the slope to the Dragonpit, he cannot help the way his heart races with excitement at the possibility that it might be true.
His hopes are dashed when a pig is led out to him, trussed up in wings, having been jokingly named “the pink dread”. He bows his head at the raucous laughter of Aegon, Jace and Luke around him, humiliation flushing his cheeks for having dared to believe it could be true.
The echoes of Aegon’s mocking pig grunts ring in his ears all the way home, and he stands dejectedly as Alicent delivers yet another scolding for him having dared to disturb Dreamfyre. He is usually silently accepting of her scorn, confident he knows better, and prepared to defy her all over again the next day. However, this time he can no longer bear the injustice of it all.
“They gave me a pig!” He cries, feeling the prickle of tears in his eyes. “They laughed, they all laughed.”
The warmth of his mother’s embrace does little to comfort the inferno that blazes inside of him. Today is proof of the fact that his own brother does not view him as equal - how could he? Aemond is a second born son and has no dragon. He is worth nothing.
If he is not destined to be a dragonrider, then Aemond decides he will give his all to becoming a fearsome warrior instead. He excels in the training yard with each daily practice, every strike of his wooden sword against the straw stuffed target more ferocious than the last. The proud glint in the eye of Ser Criston Cole as he watches diligently, offering guidance on both stance and technique, serves to spur him on. He will be the best at this, he has to be.
Much to his displeasure, the allotted time for sparring is shared with his nephews. Though they learn under the watchful eye of Ser Harwin Strong, there is still a competitive element, and an underlying sense of animosity between Criston and Harwin that he does not quite understand.
Aegon later tells him it is because Ser Harwin is the true father of Rhaenyra’s children. He feels a smug sense of satisfaction at being privy to this information, and it brings him and his older brother closer together. The two of them share rare moments of comradery each time they don their armour and pick up their practice blades. It’s the only time that Aemond ever genuinely laughs or smiles.
There is an obvious divide from that point onwards, Targaryens uniting against Strongs, and as the tension grows between the boys, it does between their mentors too, until one day it reaches a boiling point.
At first Aemond titters along with his brother as they watch Criston scuffle with Harwin, but his smile quickly fades upon seeing how valiantly their father fights for them, knowing his own would never do the same for him. As he looks up into the solemn features of Aegon, he knows the sentiment is shared. It is yet another privilege that Rhaenyra’s children possess that he does not have; the love of their father.
They journey to Driftmark when they receive the news that Laena Velaryon has passed away in childbirth. The icy, coastal winds that whip Aemond’s hair around his face as the stone coffin is committed to the sea are as bleak as the mood that envelopes them all. He seeks warmth near the brazier, attempting to catch the eye of Jace, who stands on the opposite side. Despite the tension between them, he hopes to offer condolences, knowing the loss of both Ser Harwin and his aunt play heavily upon his nephew’s mind.
He realises it is a futile gesture the moment that Jace turns away in disgust, and once more Aemond is reminded of how alone he truly is, that he has nothing. Luke will inherit Driftmark, and their mother has betrothed Helaena to Aegon. Luke snivels at what he is offered, claiming that when Driftmark passes to him it means everyone will have died. Aegon scoffs at the notion of being married to Helaena, claiming they have nothing in common.
It angers Aemond, to be overlooked in favour of those who are so ungrateful for all they have. If he were set to inherit anything, he would do everything in his power to prove he is worthy of it and bear the title with honour. If his mother had betrothed his sister to him, he would do his duty and ensure the match produces heirs that would make House Targaryen proud.
His attention is drawn to the clifftop when he sees the spread of enormous wings and hears the mighty rumble of the creature atop it. Vhagar. Laena Velaryon’s dragon is now riderless, and the pull he feels towards her is one he simply cannot ignore. At last, he has found his purpose and his desire to claim a dragon is reinvigorated with new strength.
Aemond waits until nightfall. Sea spray has made the rocks slippery beneath his feet, and he ascends carefully, though determined, towards the top of the cliff where Vhagar roosts. Windswept and breathless by the time he reaches the top, he stands awestruck at the sleeping dragon. Even partially submerged in sand, she is a magnificent sight to behold. She had appeared massive when looking at her from above, but it does nothing to prepare him for the sheer scale of her up close. She is gargantuan.
For a moment, icy fingers of fear grip Aemond’s heart, and he considers simply turning back, he has made a dangerous mistake. He shakes the thought from his mind the moment it presents itself.
I am no craven.
His approach is tentative, palms outstretched to communicate that he does not present a threat, as the elderly beast grumbles and shakes sand from her back. He stares transfixed as she opens her jaws, the white hot inferno that swirls within their depths makes that of Dreamfyre’s seem like a mere campfire. He feels as though he is looking into the very mouth of the Seven Hells themselves, but instead of fear Aemond feels kinship. Vhagar is without purpose, as is he, until now.
“Lykirī,” he calls out, the wind carrying half the sound away with it. Yet she hears, and she stills, eyeing the child before her with keen curiosity. Be calm.
Emboldened by her calmness at his command, Aemond steps closer, fingertips ghosting against the heat that radiates from her scales.
“Dohaerās, Vhagar,” he tells her, voice trembling. This is the same dragon ridden by the great warrior, Visenya, the conqueror’s wife. She is battle hardened, and with the smallest of movements could snuff out his short life. Serve.
The faintest sound of displeasure reverberates through Vhagar’s body, yet she remains still. Aemond’s heart beats wildly in his chest as he grips the ropes attached to her saddle and begins to pull himself up. If he had thought the climb to the top of the cliff difficult, it proves nothing compared to this. His arms ache with exertion, the expanse of the great beast he is attempting to summit is vaster than anything he has ever climbed before.
By the time he pulls himself into the saddle, Aemond’s palms are red raw with rope burn and his skin is damp with perspiration. There is barely time for him to catch his breath though, as the moment Vhagar feels him settle on her back, she rises to her feet, vast quantities of sand slipping from her back and wings in drifts.
The movement startles Aemond, and he fears he will fall. His sore hands cling tightly to her reins as he shouts his final command to her. 
“Sōvēs.” Fly.
As she rises into the air with an effortless flap of her wings, he feels as though he has left his stomach on the ground below. The rush upwards is dizzying, frightening and exhilarating all at once. Aemond begins to laugh as he grows used to the weightless sensation of every ebb and flow through the air as it whistles past his ears, and chills his skin to the bone. He is finally complete, he has his dragon, and for the first time in his life he is genuinely happy.
That happiness is short-lived.
The moment he reaches solid ground, his cousins, Baela and Rhaena, are waiting for him, alongside Jace and Luke. He had anticipated this, and is well prepared.
“It’s him!” Rhaena shouts as soon as she sees him.
“It’s me,” he responds calmly, confident there is nothing to be done now that Vhagar is his.
“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!”
“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now.”
“She was mine to claim!”
“Then you should have claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride? It would suit you.”
He is startled when Rhaena angrily charges towards him, though he is bigger than her and pushes her to the ground with ease. A punch from her sister, Baela, catches him off guard, the pain in his face enraging him and causing him to hit back so hard she falls over.
“Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” He snarls angrily.
Jace and Luke rush at him, and in a moment of confidence Aemond thinks he has bested the both of them, until all four children knock him down and begin to rain their fists down upon him.
He is the rider of the world’s largest dragon, and his new found confidence coupled with the surge of adrenaline allows him to fight them all back. He grasps a rock, holding it above Luke’s head as he grasps him tightly by the collar.
“You will die screaming in flames, just as your father did. Bastards!” He hisses.
“My father is still alive!” Luke wails.
Aemond smirks, rock still held above his sobbing nephew, and he glances to Jace. “He does not know, does he, Lord Strong?”
Jace unsheathes a dagger, to the protestations of both Rhaena and Baela, and the distraction is enough for Aemond to knock it from his hand. His dedication in the training yard has paid off and he quickly gets the better of Jace, snatching up the rock once more, prepared to bring it down upon his skull should he try to attack him again.
In Aemond’s mind, the matter is settled, they should accept what has happened and retire to bed.
Unfortunately, his nephews do not share the sentiment. He winces, staggering backwards as Jace throws sand in his face, and before he has had time to fully recover, Luke is racing towards him, Jace’s dagger in hand.
The pain is excruciating as his nephew slashes upwards, and suddenly his vision shows blackness on one side, instead of his surroundings. He falls to his knees, a shriek of agony leaving him as blood seeps through the fingers of the hand he clasps to one side of his face.
His only focus is the searing, torturous pain he feels, waves of nausea rippling through his prone body, until a clamour of armour alerts him to the presence of the Kingsguard. As a knight kneels beside him, coaxing his hand away, his pale, horrified expression and exclamation of “Gods be good” are all Aemond needs to know that his face is ruined forever.
The fire in the hall of Driftmark is warm against his skin, and he does his best to focus on that sensation instead of that of the Maester extracting his eye from his skull. Though he has been dosed with milk of the poppy, he still feels every cut, every tug, and the pierce of the needle as it’s pulled through his skin repeatedly to stitch up the wound.
Aemond is unsure if it is the milk of the poppy that dulls his senses, or the satisfaction he feels at having claimed the world’s largest dragon, but he does not feel anger or sadness as he expects he would have when he is told his eye is lost forever.
When his mother snatches a knife and charges towards Rhaenyra, he is certain she has more blood of the dragon coursing through her veins than his coward of a father does. She is willing to risk everything to avenge his disfigurement, while Viserys makes excuses and appears more affronted at his eldest daughter’s children being called bastards. The loss of Aemond’s eye seems of little importance to him.
It is in that moment that Aemond feels the tiny semblance of respect he had for his father wither and die. As he takes in the harrowed expressions of Alicent, Aegon and Helaena, he knows they are all he has left.
“Do not mourn me, mother,” he says softly, rising to comfort her, though unsteady on his feet as he adjusts to his partial sightedness. “I may have lost an eye, but I have gained a dragon.”
A scar mars the flesh of Aemond’s face, but also ravages its way through the Targaryen family. Rhaenyra and her children leave King’s Landing, settling upon Dragonstone with Daemon and his daughters. Meanwhile, the health of Viserys continues to decline and the instances he is not bedridden grow fewer. Aemond does not miss his presence.
Worry hangs over his mother, a permanent shroud of anxiety, while Aegon becomes more debaucherous, sinking further into his cups with each passing day. Helaena retreats deeper into herself, rarely speaking unless spoken to, and bristles at any initiation of physical touch.
Slowly, Aemond heals, though it is not without struggle. He must learn to do everything anew. His favourite books become a chore to read, no longer able to pore over their pages for as long without suffering a terrible ache in his head.
Criston has to begin his training with the sword all over again. There is a newfound blind spot to account for when he fights. Not only does he have to learn how to balance, pivot and wield his weapon with accuracy, he also has to develop hyper vigilance and an acute awareness of where his opponent is at all times, to prevent them from drifting to the side from which he cannot see, and besting him.
Even flying on dragonback is difficult, though he only has one flight to compare it to. He learns fast, and is grateful that Vhagar’s advanced age makes her placid and more forgiving than a younger mount might be. When Aemond is airborne he can almost forget his disfigurement entirely, until he returns to the ground and the world is half blackness once more.
It is enough to make Aemond want to scream in frustration and give up at times. However, he is accustomed to a life of feeling out of place, of having to work harder than everyone else to prove his worth. There is nothing to be gained from a defeatist attitude, so he hardens himself to the challenges he faces, determined to be better with one eye than he was with two.
If his vision of the world is now limited, then he will simply expand his mind beyond that. He loses himself in tomes of history and philosophy, ignoring the dull pain that plagues his skull as he reads into the small hours.
In the training yard, he is quick to learn to keep Criston within his line of sight at all times, and wields his sword viciously, relentlessly, always striving to be faster, stronger, more precise. The proud look upon the Knight’s face means little to him now. The only person he means to prove anything to is himself. 
He reasons that a warrior must appear as fearsome as they fight, and takes to wearing a sapphire in the empty socket of his eye, when it is not covered by a patch.
The single matter that Aemond is never able to quite grasp is that of the fairer sex. Aegon has always seemed to have an overly indulgent interest in women, moreso what lies between their legs, but he has never understood his brother’s obsession with fornication. He has read about the mechanics of it in books, and the idea makes his lip curl in disgust. However, he reasons that Aegon is older, and perhaps his own appetite will develop in much the same way as he ages.
Aegon reasons that women’s skin is soft, they smell nice, and when you find one that has the perfect pair of tits and legs then there is little else that matters. While it is agreeable to Aemond that women are indeed more pleasant to look upon than men, he questions why he should not take an interest in their education or how they like to pass the time. His brother argues that once you are sheathed inside a woman, it is not what is in their mind that matters in the slightest.
Upon Aemond’s thirteenth name day, Aegon slaps him on the back and informs him that it is “time to get it wet”. The very idea makes his guts churn with unease, yet he dons the clothes of common folk just the same, pulling a hood over his head, and allows his brother to guide him to the Street of Silk.
The walk through Flea Bottom reeks of urine, with men staggering half drunk through the narrow cobbled streets, while women in varying states of undress beckon them forward into darkened hovels. Aemond keeps his head bowed, dreading what is to come, and is thankful when the establishment that his older brother guides him to looks slightly more respectable than the half a dozen they have passed by already.
The pleasure house is dimly lit and the heady scent of cheap perfume burns his nostrils, though it barely covers the smell of another undesirable stench that he assumes is the byproduct of what goes on here. He half wonders if it will stick to his clothing, much like the smell of sulphur and ash does when he returns from dragonback. He sincerely hopes not. 
His throat runs dry when Aegon staggers away with a busty woman, full of giggles, leaving him alone. The brothel’s madame has a kind smile, though it does not meet her eyes, and when she places her hand upon his shoulder it makes him shudder. He feels her touch there like a brand long after she has taken it away.
“Choose any of my girls that you like,” she tells him.
Timidly he eyes all of them. He wants none of them, but how can he say that?
When he hesitates, she chooses for him, pushing him towards a room with a girl that cannot be much older than he is. Her hair is the colour of straw, her skin reeks of the same perfume that lingers thick within the air, and there is wine upon her breath.
The fireplace burns low in the room as he lays upon the bed, and he keeps his eye fixed upon it until it is over. He has enjoyed none of it, the finish feeling little more to him than the satisfaction he experiences when scratching an itch. He cannot understand why Aegon makes such a fuss about it, if that is all there is to it then he never wants to partake in such an act of vulgarity ever again.
He leaves without saying a word, and walks as quickly as his legs will carry him back to the Red Keep. In the bathtub that evening, he scrubs until his skin is red raw, wanting nothing more than to erase every trace of what he has endured that day.
When he is served his favourite meal for his name day feast, roasted haunch of venison, he finds he has no appetite. Sickly perfume fills his nose and turns his stomach, and he leaves his plate untouched.
From that day forth, Aemond decides that he has no taste for depravity, and dedicates his time to reading, training with the sword and taking flight on Vhagar. Despite the nagging ache at the back of his mind that Aegon is set to succeed their father when he passes away, despite neither wanting nor deserving it, he feels a sense of fulfillment in knowing that he is making both their mother and House Targaryen proud.
There are few books in the Keep’s library he has not read at least twice, and he trains daily in the yard with Criston, now at a point where he is the victor in almost every sparring match.
The years pass, and Aemond is content with solitude, assuming that is his lot in life. Fire and blood course hotly in his veins, and in spite of his disfigurement he feels every inch a true Targaryen.
Viserys deteriorates to the point that Aemond’s grandsire and Hand of the King, Otto, now oversees most of the royal duties, and he has begun in earnest to plan with Alicent for Aegon’s eventual coronation. It comes as no shock to Aemond the day that he is beckoned to the Small Council Chamber, though he is surprised to find it is just his grandsire that sits at the table, there is not even a cup bearer present.
“I trust you are aware of the plans to crown Aegon once your father passes?” Otto asks, once Aemond is seated in the chair nearest to him.
Aemond sits up straight against the backrest, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, as he regards Otto impassively. “I am.”
“Good,” Otto nods, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. “Then I am sure you must know of your own duty to the realm.”
Aemond purses his lips, eyeing the older man carefully. “I will do what I must to ensure Aegon’s claim to the throne goes unchallenged.”
Otto sighs, leaning back and regarding Aemond with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Rhaenyra is sure to challenge your brother’s birthright, as your father foolishly named her heir, but there are means to remedy that.”
Aemond says nothing, waiting for Otto to say what he means. He watches as he fills both their wine cups, before setting the jug down. He takes a deep drink from his own, but Aemond leaves his untouched, wishing his grandsire would just get to the point.
Otto clicks his tongue before continuing. “To strengthen Aegon’s claim, we must curry favour with the other Great Houses of the realm.”
Aemond lowers his gaze, fingers drumming absentmindedly on the armrests of his chair. “You wish for me to marry.”
“Yes, Aemond, you are to be betrothed.”
The tone of voice in which Otto says this has such finality, it sounds as though a match has already been decided. His eye flickers upwards to meet the unyielding gaze of his grandsire.
“To who?”
“Your mother and I thought it best not to present you with suitors, we know you would not enjoy such a spectacle.”
You know all of them would take one look at me and be horrified by the very notion of being married to me.
Otto continues, “So we have chosen for you. The daughter of Lord Rickon Stark, Lorra. She is a pretty girl, and having the allegiance of a Great House of the North will weaken Rhaenyra’s claim.”
Aemond stays silent as his mind races.
House Stark. Their sigil is a dire wolf, their words are Winter is Coming.
Beyond that, he knows nothing of Northerners, what could he possibly learn about his betrothed from a book anyway?
He wets his lips, resigned to his fate. “When?”
“She will arrive in King’s Landing in two weeks, so that you can begin your courtship of her.”
“I will do my duty.”
“I trust that you will.”
Aemond retires to his chambers for the remainder of the day. He had anticipated that he would have to marry to form a political alliance at some point, however, the thought rattles him all the same. 
He is a solitary creature by nature, what on earth will he do with a wife? He supposes life will stay much the same, if his mother and father and Aegon and Helaena are to be used as examples - both couples married, yet living entirely separate lives. It is a mere formality. He will not be expected to spend time with her.
They will be expected to produce heirs, however. Nervousness swirls in his gut at the thought. He does not want to endure what happened to him at the brothel each time he couples with his wife, yet he cannot leave her childless either.
Lorra is a highborn lady, however, not a common whore, so perhaps he will be able to find pleasure in the act. Doubt niggles in his mind as he ponders his inexperience. A Prince must know what he is doing if he is to produce children, and Aemond possesses neither experience nor interest in the act of procreation. He will need to prepare if he is to perform his marital duties as anticipated without embarrassing himself or his wife.
The thought of returning to Flea Bottom makes him shiver in revulsion. He has no desire to part with coin for an act that sickens him. He will need to find an alternative.
There are plenty of maidservants around the Keep who are pretty enough, and of a similar age to him. He does not wish to be like his brother, however, and will not take what is not freely given. He has observed the way that Aegon expresses interest in the women that attend to them during mealtimes and decides to deploy some of the same tactics, though in a much more subtle manner.
At supper the following evening, he spots a young woman who is pleasing to him. She has a slender neck and pretty face, her large eyes framed by thick lashes. He watches her carefully as she rounds the table, filling each cup with wine, and when finally she approaches him, he deliberately reaches forward, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her wrist as she pours from the jug she holds. She glances down at him and he looks up, holding her gaze, the faintest of smirks on his face. A slight blush creeps up her neck, dusting its way across her cheekbones and he knows she is interested.
He spends the rest of the meal catching her eye whenever he can, and when the evening draws to a close, he lingers in the doorway, beckoning her with the slightest tip of his head when she looks at him, before walking back to his bedchamber. Aemond does not have to wait long for the knock at his door.
“Your grace, will you be needing anything else this evening?” She asks with a polite smile.
He closes the door behind them, steeling himself before turning to face her. “You understand why you are here?”
She nods, reaching up to cup his face as she leans in. He turns away, pulling back slightly.
“I have no need for you to kiss me.”
She nods in understanding and moves towards the bed, slipping out of her clothes. Aemond stands in silence as he watches her disrobe. She is attractive to look at, much more desirable than the girl he had coupled with in Flea Bottom. Smooth skinned, with subtle curves and firm breasts. He wonders how many others have looked upon her in the same manner that he has.
“Lay down,” he instructs her, once she is fully bare before him.
She moves to position herself face down, but Aemond steps forward, halting her actions.
“Let me look at you.”
“As you wish, your grace,” she whispers, blushing again, and repositions onto her back.
Aemond stands over her, his eye raking over her form as he takes in the way her chest rises and falls with every breath, the way the narrowness of her waist expands outwards towards her hips.
Tentatively, he reaches forward, fingers trailing lightly over the plush flesh of her inner thigh, tugging gently.
Obediently, she spreads her legs and he sucks in a breath at what glistens between them, curiosity guiding his actions as he spreads his fingers through the slick folds. She sighs in pleasure, and he looks back up at her face. Her lips are parted, eyes hooded with desire. Admittedly, though this is a much better experience than what he’d endured when he was thirteen, he still feels little in the way of excitement. Aemond appreciates that she lays there quietly, however, allowing him to take things at his own pace, and he feels his body respond to her regardless of his lack of emotion.
When his cock strains almost painfully against the lacings of his breeches, he unfastens them, crawling over the maidservant to cage her body in with his. She feels better against him than the whore had, her skin is more supple and her scent not quite so overpowering. He grunts as he pushes himself inside of her, her tight, wet heat gripping every inch of him as he slides forward.
The inside of her is different from the grasp of his own hand. Aemond is no stranger to the act of self pleasure, using it as a means to clear his mind or lull himself to sleep on nights when rest evades him. It is not a carnal act for him though, he simply focuses on the sensation, guiding himself to release. Despite the pleasant warmth of her body, he does not feel driven to desperate passion as he had anticipated, as he has so often heard Aegon describe.
As he rocks his hips into hers, back and forth, the growing ache he experiences is nice enough, but it does not light a fire within him. He is simply rutting against another person. The dulcet sounds that fall from her lips as he pistons into her sound too performative, and he feels resentment as he looks upon her face, just wanting to put an end to it.
He speeds up, and her sounds grow louder. Annoyance prickles at his skin.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses.
She falls silent and the room fills with the sound of the slap of his skin against hers, until finally he spills inside of her with a quiet gasp. He is quick to withdraw from her, standing and tucking himself away.
“You can go now,” he tells her, turning away.
He doesn’t watch as she dresses and quietly leaves his chamber. Aemond feels disappointment that he is unable to derive pleasure from such a carnal act. He has read that it is supposed to evoke excitement within a person, and from the way Aegon behaves he knows it is certainly true. So why does such a feeling evade him?
It matters not, he supposes. He will treat his wife in the same way he has the maidservant this evening. He will not take her by force, and he will be gentle with her. The act will be for the sole purpose of producing heirs, besides that they will live their lives as they please. He did not choose her, and she did not choose him, so he is confident that this will be an arrangement she finds satisfactory.
The next two weeks pass by without incident. Aemond reads, he trains and he flies, and thoughts of his betrothal scarcely enter his mind.
Upon the day of Lorra’s arrival to the Red Keep, he gathers in the Great Hall, with Alicent, Otto, Aegon and Helaena to greet her upon her arrival. He stands straight, hands clasped firmly behind his back, eye scanning the room impatiently. He hates the formality of it all, and wonders what could possibly be taking such a long time.
He will, of course, be dutiful and stand here for as long as necessary, but irritability simmers within him as he exhales heavily through his nose, wishing to be anywhere else right now, the library, the training yard, on dragonback. Such a display seems wholly unnecessary for an arrangement that is a mere formality.
When finally the doors open to the steps that ascend into the Hall, he faces forward, eye fixed upon the Kingsguard that file in. Until he sees her.
Draped in a cerulean cloak, trimmed with grey fur, she seems as though she is floating, rather than walking as she approaches. Her ivory skin is tinged with the faintest of pink against her cheeks and the curls of her ebony hair are braided down her back.
Aemond’s throat runs dry, his heart pounding quickly against his ribcage, and he realises he is holding his breath. The last time he felt such a powerful combination of fear, awe and longing had been the night he had first laid eyes upon Vhagar. It unsettles him, and he is grateful that his hands remain behind his back, otherwise he is certain that she would be able to see how they tremble.
“Lady Lorra of House Stark,” comes the announcement to the Hall, but it sounds distant and far away to Aemond as he stands, transfixed by her.
His blood pumps like liquid fire through his veins. Her eyes, so blue they could almost be sapphires, meet his and he feels a shiver run through him. After a lifetime of resonating in the warmth of flames, he is chilled by the ice that is reflected back at him.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Say Goodbye Part III (Chris Sturniolo)
part one, part two
a/n: so ig im just letting this story go where it wants to, idk how many part it will be but lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist
contains: fluff, angst, breakup emotions, cussing, childhood friends to lovers to exes?, mentions of kissing, use of y/n (i couldn't avoid it anymore <\3), friendship issues, 1.1k words
There’s a tree in my backyard that’s witnessed almost every big moment Chris and I have ever shared. There used to be a treehouse in it, built one summer before I was born, where I first fell in love. It was just wide enough for our ten-year-old selves to lie head to head, our shoulders just barely kissing, as we listened to music on my first phone.
The treehouse was where, at thirteen, he first leaned in to kiss me, egged on by a dare from our friends. It was where I stopped him and whispered low that I wanted my first kiss to be real and he just stared at me nodding patiently like he understood.
Then, after my dad had torn down the treehouse and replaced it with a hammock bed, this tree is where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Where we lay together, watching the stars through the branches, until he got the courage to make that first kiss real after all.
But it’s also where I sat to make the call that ended us a year ago. Where my mom found me the next morning after I had spent the night crying so hard there was nothing left to do but sleep.
So I guess it’s fitting that I’m laying under this tree, swinging gently with the wind, when Chris finally makes his promised call. I take a deep breath, wondering if this is a step forward or backward before I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, baby.”
**********
I pull my phone away from my face to check the time, my eyes widening when I see how late it is. We’re two hours into this conversation about everything and absolutely nothing, and it’s getting cold out here. But somehow, going inside and away from this spot feels too much like breaking a spell so I’ve stayed put.
Chris finishes up telling me about some of the craziest fan interactions he's had and I pretend I haven't heard them all on his channels. Pretending to forget all the nights when the distance between us hurt too bad to ignore, and I'd turn on their podcast listening to them argue to chase the ache away. I shake off the memory and sigh, picking at the frays of the hammock.
“What was your favorite tour stop?” I ask. stifling a yawn and pushing off the ground to make the hammock sway.
“Umm…” He starts, and I can hear movement on his end like he’s pacing his room. “Is it cheating to say Boston? It was just a crazy moment to be on a stage in our hometown.”
I smile to myself at the wanderlust in his voice.
“I bet. I wish I could have-” I cut myself off remembering our situation and bite my lip. “I mean, I’m glad you guys got to have that, Chris. I’m sure it was amazing.”
“You could have come, you know.” He says quietly after a beat.
“Chris.”
“No. I know. It’s just…For some reason, I really thought you would. I had this vision of the show ending and I would find you waiting backstage. I played it over and over again in my head. How I’d get the chance to make it right.” He laughs, the sound a little bitter. “Man, it took a lot out of me not to call you that night. Took everything I had.”
“Don’t do this.” I sigh, closing my eyes to fight off the emotions he’s stirring up.
“I don’t know how not to do this.” He admits breathlessly. “I don’t know what it’s like to not want you.”
Neither of us says anything for a few moments letting his declaration hang in the air before I clear my throat.
“We’ve tried this before-” I begin but Chris interjects.
“If at first you don’t succeed-”
“Nothing has changed between us!” I cut in, my tone stern. “It will be exactly the same.”
“You’re wrong. Everything has changed. I know what it’s like to live without you now.”
God. I sit up and stare at my phone, trying to keep my heart from running away from my head. I want to get my car and drive to where he can hold me. But what if all roads to my first love lead me right back to this heartbreak?
“We can’t just go back to how we were before,” I say sadly, shaking my head to clear out the fantasies.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to move forward.” He insists.
I scrunch my face up in thought. “Friends?”
He laughs like I’ve said something hilarious, “Not a chance in hell.”
“Chris, I can’t-”
“We get on a plane back to LA in four weeks. Give me until then. Four weeks to make you fall back in love with me. And if not, I’ll walk away. I’ll call you my friend. I’ll do whatever you want. Just give me a month.”
I take a deep breath and give in, making a small noise of agreement. Chris makes a goofy celebration noise and I smile despite myself before we finally end the call.
What the hell did I just do to myself? I run a hand over my face in disbelief as I wonder how the hell he could ever think I fell out of love with him in the first place.
**********
I wake up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking and almost float down the stairs to the kitchen. My mom only ever cooks on special occasions so I’m confused until I turn the corner and find all three of the triplets around our island.
“Uhhh… good morning.” I sputter out, reaching a hand up to smooth down my hair. Chris and Nick smile over at me but Matt won’t meet my eye.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” My mom says, smiling as she slips past me in the doorway. “See you tonight.” She tosses a grin back at the boys and they call out their goodbyes. Nick stands from the stool and comes over to me, wrapping me up in a hug that I melt into immediately.
“We missed you, Y/N.” He says when we pull away, making tears spring to my eyes.
“I missed you guys more,” I say earnestly.
Matt scoffs and stands up, grabbing his keys and pushing past us. “I’ll wait in the car.”
I flinch as the door slams and Nick shrugs apologetically.
“Yeah, about him…” He trails off and Chris picks it up for him.
“I wasn’t the only one you left in the rearview, Y/N. Maybe you should go talk to him.”
I swallow hard knowing they are right. Because before there was me and Chris, there was Matt.
Matt who sat next to me in kindergarten and shared his crayons. Matt who pulled his sleeping cot closer to mine when I was scared at naptime. Matt who was my very first best friend. Our friendship plays on repeat in my mind as I walk out to their car, wondering what I say after a year of silence. A year of ignoring my best friend for a fight that was never his at all.
I hear Kid Cudi playing as I approach his window and bite back a smile at how much nothing ever changes. I knock softly against Matt’s window and he cuts his eyes to me, annoyance evident.
“What do you want?”
part 4
taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris
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ineffablydaydreaming · 7 months
Text
Okay. I need to ramble.
Crowley's entire existence revolves around the apple, it's an event that's in constant repetition. Let me explain:
To humanity, he only had to give them the apple once. With humanity, neither the two hesitated: Crowley says it out loud, he doesn't get what's wrong with knowing the difference between good and evil (even though personally I don't interpret that as being the only thing the apple is about), so he didn't hesitate in creating the original sin, because he either didn't think it was a big deal, or because he thought it was important that humans gained that Knowledge and formed their own opinions and thoughts on the universe rather than being eternally naive, or both. And the humans didn't hesitate to grasp that knowledge either, because... Well, we're humans, you and I. I think we can probably relate.
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So as soon as he climbed that wall of Eden he was done, but just with humanity. When he re-encountered Aziraphale, the apple event started to repeat itself again. Over and over, throughout their entire 6000 years of being together, Crowley tried giving Aziraphale the apple, but differently from humanity, Aziraphale hesitated every single time and only took small pieces.
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Over and over, Crowley voices his thoughts on God's plan and God Herself. "You can't kill children! [...] But that's something one'd expect my side to do..." He also voices his thoughts on Heaven and Hell's way of working, especially the way they treat humans. "Our administrations don't care how things are done, they just want them done." "That only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle."
All of this is Crowley offering Aziraphale the apple. The apple is knowledge, it's the knowledge that you aren't the good guys. you are flawed. you are corrupt. they are brainwashing you. you're just a tool for them to meet their own goals. they don't care about you nor humanity, just keeping the status quo.
He's tempting him, constantly, with the knowledge, for him to finally realize the truth, and sometimes it works. The Beginning, The Deluge, A Companion to Owls, The Ressurectionist and Armageddon were all attempts Crowley made for Aziraphale to finally eat the apple. In The Beginning and in The Deluge it doesn't do much. You can see the doubt in his eyes and his voice, how he doesn't approve of what God wants to do but can't say it nor do anything about it.
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In A Companion to Owls, it's the first time he lies without lying by omission, instead directly lying to Gabriel. He looks at Crowley before he does it. He looks at Crowley, because they share empathy for humanity, for Job's children they refused to let die.
He looks at Crowley, and Crowley offers him a slice of the apple. And he bit it.
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In The Ressurectionist, it's not about Aziraphale going against his staff, it's him questioning the morals he was taught by Heaven. It isn't much in comparison... But you can see he regrets what he did and chooses to help Elspeth. The one who rebels is Crowley, who prevents her from dying and going to Hell, and it's implied he's tortured because of it (next flashback is him asking for Holy Water).
In this case, Crowley simply led him to the apple. Humanity offered it. He took another bite.
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In Armageddon, Crowley offers him the apple, saying that they can't just let the world end while watching it. Aziraphale hesitates, then bites it, agreeing to help raise Warlock. They realize they got the wrong boy and Crowley wants to give up, but Aziraphale doesn't give up, instead continues his search. Crowley offers him the apple, saying they need to kill the antichrist somehow, saying he won't do it because of his own morals while Aziraphale says he won't do it because of Heaven's reputation: he refuses to bite it. But only this time. After their two breakups, he's hopeful, he thinks he can fix things, he talks to Metatron. His hope vanishes.
He bites the apple, at last. It's why he doesn't hesitate trying to shoot Adam while he's in Tracy's body. It's why he tries to defend Adam saying Heaven and Hell might be going against the Ineffable Plan. It's why he tells Crowley to do something when Satan is coming. It's why he and Crowley swap bodies in order to survive. He eats the apple, he has the knowledge, and he doesn't give it up.
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He and Crowley always do what they think is right. I doubt I need to explain Season 2 in this post, do I? Entire season is Aziraphale evading Heaven and trying to find a solution to Gabriel's situation on his own. He bit the apple on the first episode before Crowley even showed up.
But then, why did Aziraphale give Adam and Eve the flaming sword if he didn't talk to Crowley beforehand? Wasn't that his own idea?
Well. Before the Beginning, I truly feel like that conversation about how the nebula will have to be shut down in 6000 years didn't just plant the seed of doubt on Crowley, it also did on Aziraphale. His was much tinier, quieter, he was still loyal to Heaven... Until he no longer could be. Until he saw an unarmed Adam and a pregnant Eve leaving the Garden to the outside world where everything was cold and deadly and out to get them. The seed of doubt tied its roots on Aziraphale's sympathy and kindness, for Crowley but, especially, for humanity. He's their guardian, after all. He couldn't just stand and watch.
Because, back then, in space, he had bit a tiny piece of the apple when Crowley, unintentionally, offered it to him. "You can't create an entire universe, run it for a couple thousand years, then stop!" He tasted it, even if just for a fraction, but then handed it away. "It's not up to us to make decisions for the Almighty." But the taste, the seed of doubt, was still there, lingering. So he gives away the flaming sword.
Their sympathy for humanity (and for each other; "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble!") is a trait they mutually share, and because they've both tasted the apple, they're willing to break their respective rules in order to stand for what they think is right. And we can see that Aziraphale's sympathy doesn't extend only to humans, he feels it for Gabriel when he says something terrible would happen if he didn't come to the bookshop.
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But Crowley wasn't the first person in the universe to offer someone the apple, you see.
This is the ironic part.
You see, Crowley offered the apple to Aziraphale, then to humanity, then tried, for thousands of years, to make Aziraphale eat the rest of it. But do you know who made Crowley eat the apple himself? Do you know who made Crowley receive the knowledge? Do you know who made Crowley differentiate fair from unfair, good from evil, bad from good? Do you know who made Crowley decide to disagree, to form his own thoughts, to express his unsatisfaction with God's plan?
Aziraphale.
Aziraphale started it -- he stated a fact, a knowledge, that Crowley disagreed with and thought was unfair and a bad idea. Crowley's Fall began right then and there with him voicing his concerns and losing his faith.
Aziraphale stated where the apple was and Crowley willingly picked it up and ate it, and now, Crowley is in a constant loop of offering the apple to Aziraphale himself.
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Crowley fell because he bit the apple before it was even called an apple. Aziraphale offered it to him without even knowing and now he's doomed to eat it too.
"I'm just a demon who goes along with Hell's plans as far as he can."
[...]
"You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven's plans as far as he can."
"But that sounds..." "Lonely? Yeah."
[...]
"We're on our side."
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kyber-kisses · 10 months
Text
The Red String
Miguel Ohara x Spider!reader
Summary: Legend has it, there is an invisible red thread that connects us to those we are destined to meet. Regardless of time, place, or circumstances. It may stretch and tangle but never break.
Warnings: slight ATSV spoilers, cursing, canon typical violence.
A/N: HI FELLOW SIMPS! Please enjoy this mediocre fic that I wrote because I’m in love with Miguel.
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A freak.
That’s what you felt like.
But surprising enough it wasn’t due to the enhanced spider abilities like crawling up the walls and sensing a flying projectile from a mile away.
No. No, it was the issue with your fucking soul string.
Letting out a deep sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the fire escape, pulling off your glove as you examined your hand. . . Or more accurately; your pinkie finger.
The thin faded string tied around your small finger was nothing but a hinderance to you at this point. When your mind was supposed to be on New York and keeping the streets safe it was instead occupied with thoughts about the stupid little string.
Everyone had one. Hell, everyone was born with one. A soul string. Only you and one other person can see your string. To everyone else it’s invisible. Like a sort of ghost others can walk through and not even notice.
The other end of it was tied to your soulmate.
Most people go out and find theirs between the time they’re twenty and thirty, others just wait for the moment to come naturally. But in the end it was a universal fact: everyone had a soulmate.
Except for you apparently.
It was either that or they had died at some point. Either way, the end of your string didn’t go anywhere. It was a faded red and only stretched a few feet in front of you before fading into nothing. It went no where.
And that’s why you were thankful only you could see your string because of others knew. . . Oh boy would you be an outcast.
Then again, you already felt like one.
“Stupid fucking thing-“ you hissed, scraping your finger along where the string was tied in a futile attempt to get it off. But like always. . . It didn’t work. Your finger phased through it as if it were nothing more than a figment of your imagination. In other words: it wasn’t on the physical plane of existence.
You don’t know why you let it bother you so much, like hell- you were a fucking web slinging superhero, what more did you need?
As of being able to tell you were caving in on yourself, the police radio next to you crackled to life.
“Yeah, we got some sort of hi-tech robotic octopus dude climbing up the side of the bank on east 48th, we need back up over here—“
A groan of annoyance left your lips as you swung your legs back onto the fire escape, pulling your mask back on before tossing the radio into your bag.
It was always fucking something.
Why didn’t the universe ever allow you just fives minutes of peace? Sometimes all you wanted was to wallow in self pity but no. New York had to keep pumping out new villains by the handful.
But at least the journey from Greenpoint to Midtown was quick. All you had to do was go down Huron Street, leap across a few moving ferries before swinging through the midtown tunnel. Practically a walk in the park.
At least it was until you got to your destination.
Despite the obnoxious amount of light pollution that New York gave off, the explosions were easy to see and so was the weird fucking guys scaling the side of the bank with. . . What were those? Tentacles.
Coming to a stop on a roof a block or so down, you observed the scene quickly, finding potential ways to bring the guy down along with potential exit strategies of things went side ways.
It was only when you were readying yourself to dive off the side of the building and begin your attack did all your movements falter. Skidding across the gravel rooftop, you stopped at the ledge, watching with wide eyes as some other. . . person grappled with the guy you were gunning for.
A person. . . Who seems to have similar abilities to you?
Beneath your mask your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you watched the figure swing around them, dodging blows as swiftly and quickly as you did.
At the same time the faded red string around your finger faltered. The band glitching into a violent pixelated mess before resorting to its regular bland old self once more.
You really couldn’t catch a break couldn’t you?
With an annoyed shake of your head you focused your attention back to the other spider person and the tentacle guy on the wall.
You had to get closer, maybe then you could get a better look. Plus. . . Whoever they were might need help, and who were you if not someone always there to lend a helping hand.
In the end you did end up getting a better look because the second you got close you watched as the new spider person was slammed into the side of the building, one of the mechanic arms of the enemy latched tightly around them.
Your body was moving before your brain was and a second later you where sailing through the air like a dart, your foot slamming into the jaw of the criminal.
The movement was enough to shake him and with that the cows released the person in its grasp. A mask similar to your own stared back at you, it’s eyes wide as the person beneath look at you.
“What? The least I could get is a thank you.” You speak plainly, ducking a swing from the man behind you.
“Oh uh yeah, thanks.”
Trying to multitask between taking down the guy behind you and conversing with the vigilante in front of you, you paused before bringing your foot in a swift sailing arc towards your assailant, once again knocking them down a few pegs.
“You wanna tell me whit his guy is?”
“You don’t have a Doc Ock here?”
You duck another mechanic arm, moving quickly to web it firmly to the side of the building you were currently grappling on. “What do you mean here?”
“You know, this reality?”
You paused in your movements, titling your head. “What did you smoke?”
Though you couldn’t see it, you could sense the way they rolled their eyes under their mask. “Ok enough of this, just help me take down this guy and I’ll explain everything.”
There was silence for a moment as you thought it over before quickly nodding, and with that the two of you sprung into action.
In less than two minutes the attacker was down, bound firmly in webbing on the sidewalk of the bank.
“I’ve never seen this guy before. And you sounded surprised when I said that.” You folded your arms, looking down at the unconscious villian in front of you.
“I mean, most spidermen have some variant of him in their reality.” The guy next to you shrugged.
“Their reality?” Turning your head you looked at the person next to you and the blue and red spandex suit that cling to their body.
“Yeah, you know- the multiverse?”
“Bullshit. That ain’t real.”
“Oh trust me, it is.”
You raised an eyebrow underneath your mask. “Why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Does it sound like I’m kidding?”
The so called spider-man inc don’t if you sighed, hand going to his hips. “My names Peter B. Parker. I’m from a different reality. Earth 616-B to be exact.”
Despite how ridiculous he sounded your senses were telling you everything he said was true. “How did you get here?”
“A gizmo.”
“Ok now I have to call bullshit. You have something called a fucking gizmo that got you here? That sounds like something a kid would call their toy.”
At that Peter laughs. “Oh ho! That’s good, wait till I tell Miguel that someone called his devices a child’s toy. Oh I’m gonna have to record that—“
“Miguel?”
“He’s the boss man, the one who sent me here to grab that guy.” Peter points down at the unconscious Doc Ock on the ground.
“Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Well you give me a reason to ask a lot of questions.”
There’s a pause and you can only assume that beneath his mask he mouth his hanging slightly open as he thinks. “I. . . Ok fair enough. I’ll give you that. Long story short, this guy isn’t from your reality which means that if I don’t get him back to his your whole world could start to disintegrate. We call guys like this anomalies.”
It’s your turn to be quiet, your eyes wide as you listen to him. “oH. Ok then. Yeah please get this guy out of here then.” Nodding quickly, you stepped back. “I’d rather not have my world disintegrate.”
“I’m completely agree.” Peter nodded, moving to punch a code into the device on his wrist. . . Or gizmo as he called it. You nearly jumped out of your suit a moment later when a multi colored portal whizzed open behind him, brining with it a dull sort of hum that made your spider senses stand on end. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to get this guy back to HQ for processing before sending him home.”
You could only nod silently as your eyes stayed glued to the portal, mouth hanging slightly ajar in pure wonder. “Uh yeah- yeah.”
With a swift throw, Peter launched the unconscious Doc Ock through the portal. “It was nice meeting you fellow spider. . . ling?” He nodded as he stepped into the portal himself. “Maybe I’ll see you around again at some point.”
And with that he was gone.
And you should have left it at that. You should have just watched the portal close, turn on your heel and headed home. . . Or maybe a bar. Either or sounded like a good idea.
But you did neither.
Because hair as you were readying yourself to leave the tiny red string around your finger glitched again, the fading red line pointing in the direction of the closing portal.
You were moving before your brain was, the portal closing shut behind you, drowning you in darkness.
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