#lil memory loss too to make it more angsty? eyes
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side order but every run up the spire causes agent 8 to begin to lose more and more of their free will against the grayscaling
#lil memory loss too to make it more angsty? eyes#anyway this idea has prob already been thought up of and it's barebones asf I literally just thought of it like 2 mins ago lol#I also like the idea of their tentacle color resembling that of the bleached coral surrounding the spire by the end of it <3#this is probably just gonna be yet another idea/au that i'll probs never use or get around to fully flesh out#so feel free to use it#splatoon#splatoon 3#side order#agent 8
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and nothing else matters | eddie munson x reader
summary: reader is in a bit of a tight spot, and realizes during their musings what's really important. this was a little plot bunny that wouldn't stop bothering me! a short little drabble
warnings: cursing, mentions of dying, shortage of breath, a lil' angsty but some fluffy goodness at the end
word count: 1041
It’s funny, really. How things can seem so important when you’re young. It can feel like the world might end when you stutter whilst saying ‘here’ during roll-call at school. It’s like that when you’re in high school, you guessed. Nevertheless, it all seemed wholly unimportant now. How could you have worried so much about whether or not Ms. O’Donell would forget to collect the homework you’d ignored the night before? How did it feel like your life would end when some popular basketball guys tripped you in the hallway and everybody laughed? Not owning that one really cool walkman seemed like a really big deal last week.
Being worried about dating the only guy you’d ever had eyes for since years back because he was considered, amongst your friends, as a weirdo – seemed so fucking stupid when you were on the brink of death. It was only these last couple of days that you’d managed to talk to him. Whilst he was hiding because people thought he was responsible for a girl's death. You wished you’d had time to tell him how much he meant to you. How amazing he was.
Struggling to breathe, you truly cursed yourself for every little thing you’d agonized over. Your heart clenched at the way you’d screamed at your younger sibling that morning. With a cringe you remembered their hurt little face staring up at you. You even felt bad for being so cold towards your absent father, who’d probably had a rough upbringing too and couldn’t help how he treated you. A lone tear escaped your terrified eyes, as your fingernails clawed at the slimy vine that had wound itself around your throat, tight enough to completely cut off your air intake.
In your short life, it felt like you had already accumulated a great deal of regrets. The biggest one was probably not letting Eddie Munson know how much joy he’d brought to your life. Every one of his little outbursts of exasperation in the dining hall, or his snappy retorts to Ms. O’Donells’ evident memory loss had somehow managed to put a smile on your face – even when things had been shit at home.
It was him that you thought about now. The thought of his serene, doe-like brown eyes brought you some solace in your last traumatic moments. The way his long locks framed his kind face, and the way he’d smile a bit lop-sided sometimes felt like a soft blanket wrapping around you as your limbs started to feel colder by the second. It felt like it might be over soon. The edges of your vision had long since started to blur, perhaps due to the now constant stream of tears that ran freely down your cheeks, or perhaps due to lack of oxygen. Either way, it was starting to get dark now. You wish you could form words. Perhaps a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ would make its way back to your younger siblings, perhaps an ‘I love you’ would reach your mother, and perhaps a ‘I'm sorry I was too worried about what others thought’ would reach Eddie before you left the world.
It was all dark now, and your feeble attempts at drawing oxygen into your lungs echoed coldly in your ears. If this was what death felt like, it was rather loud. Bangs, screams and frantic voices could be heard, and you briefly wondered if this was some of your relatives retrieving you to some afterlife – how traumatic of them.
Your spirit guides, or whatever they were, were screaming your name. Over and over. Each time they sounded more and more desperate, frantic, frightened. They were trying to tell you something, but it all seemed so far away.
“Please! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go – I-i didn’t leave this time! I stayed! I tried, I really did– oh, fuck, fuck, please - not again,” the voice was familiar. Distraught and high pitched it sort of reminded you of when Eddie had one of his little tantrums. If you weren’t so out of it maybe you would’ve smiled.
“Son of a bitch!”
You briefly wondered if this was God laughing at you. Although perhaps she was trying to make your passing a bit more lighthearted? Or perhaps she thought Eddie’s frantic voice would ease your pain. And it did. You could hardly feel the vine around your throat anymore.
You could hardly feel the vine around your throat! With great effort, it seemed to take every fiber of your being just to manage to force air into your aching lungs. After a raspy, almost asthmatic sounding half breath, you gasped in a large breath of air as your eyes flew open. You could hardly remember closing them at all. Panting, you frantically started flailing your arms, trying to remove any threat to you as you realized you had lived.
Blinking, your vision was still slightly blurred as you frantically tried to see what was around you. Kneeling beside you, hovering over your frame was a long haired man who looked like he’d been through hell and back. His sweet eyes were filled to the brim with tears and he looked frightened. You took one look at him before you threw yourself into his arms and let panicked sobs wrack through your frame as your ordeal caught up to you.
“Oh, shit, fuck, son of a–” Eddie breathlessly muttered “I thought you– I didn’t think I– I thought I was too late,” he mumbled into your hair as his arms wrapped around you and kept you close to his warm chest. As his warmth started to seep into you, your body started to shiver and shake violently in his arms. Perhaps due to shock, or from being without oxygen for so long - either way, it made you cling to Eddie more desperately as you whispered how scared you had been, your words muffled slightly by his neck and hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart - you’re safe, I’ve got you now” he repeated, rocking you back and forth soothingly as his rang clad hand stroked your hair softly.
“You’re safe,” and maybe that wasn’t the whole truth, but right now you chose to believe Eddie. You felt safe, there in his arms.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic
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Your Favorite — Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N and Spencer decide to keep seeing each other in secret. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, cockwarming, heavy petting, penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral sex (both receiving), degradation, exhibitionism, fingering, cum play maybe? Word Count: 7.5k
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST
NOTE: This is... *nervous laugh* this is pure filth. Like... It’s nothing but sex scenes, y’all. Buckle in. (Also the end is a lil angsty so watch out hehehe)
———
JULY 8th
"You're sure you guys are okay without me for a little while?"
I love my mom. Really, I do.
But if she delays her bath for any longer than one more second, I'm going to burst into flames.
Thankfully it seems that Spencer is patient enough for the both of us. "Positive. You deserve to relax a little. Go. Take your bath, we'll be fine."
Mom looks to me for extra reassurance, and I give it to her with a nod.
"Okay. I'll try not to be too long."
She turns and kisses Spencer, long and lovesick, and I want to barf. What's even worse is that when she pulls away and pats my head before retreating up the stairs, he's smiling. And he's supposed to, I know that. Part of him obviously cares about my mom, and even if he's only fucking me on the side, the fact remains that he goes to sleep next to her. That's the way it has to be.
But it still makes me incredibly envious.
It's a problem.
Mom is upstairs now, but our rule is that unless we know for certain that she's not coming into sight or earshot anytime soon, we remain distant.
Still, I make my distaste for their affections known. "You guys are gross..."
Spencer laughs, his hand sneaking over the couch cushion and grazing the end of my skirt. "Jealous, are we?"
Of course, I have to make it difficult for him. "You're a genius, you tell me..."
"Hey now... You're lucky I'm giving you any attention at all... Besides, you know the rules."
I glance over at him, practically crumbling apart at the seams under his intense gaze. It's one I've gotten used to as of late, one that rivals every smile I've ever seen him give my mother.
"Doesn't make it any easier," I mumble, glancing down at where his fingers are still toying with my skirt.
"I know..." He reaches out and touches my hand, and my skin tingles. "Come here."
Even though I can hear that the bath water has only just started running from below, I comply all the same. I scramble off the couch and return on his lap, straddling him and nesting my fingers through his hair while I lean in to kiss him.
He welcomes me with open arms and an open mouth. The moment our tongues brush, I sigh and melt into him, needing desperately to be as close as possible. Our kisses then are languid and wet, and soft. We don't want to get carried away in case we need to be alert and jump apart, so it's best to keep our bodies controlled.
But as I'm learning, around Spencer, controlling myself is painstakingly difficult.
A whine escapes me when his right hand slips under my skirt and rests along the inside of my thigh, and I shift, silently begging him to give me more.
"So impatient..." he mumbles over my mouth.
I pull away and slide my hands down over his neck and shoulders, my hips rolling forward as I pout. "I haven't had you all week. I'm lonely..."
It's true.
Once all my STD tests came back clean and I got my birth control figured out and solid, the first thing he did was tell my mom he wasn't feeling well and texted me the address to his apartment. And after I told her I was meeting up with a friend, I drove over there and got my brains completely fucked out. We spent all day under the sheets, on the couch, over the kitchen counter, and then on the floor, until I had to go home and pretend like it never happened.
Since then we'd only slept together once, and that was just over a week ago, quickly while Mom ran to the store for an onion of all things. And then Spencer had been busy with consulting on new cases that his old job wanted a little help with, and once he had free time, Mom insisted they go on a date weekend.
I pout harder, stomach churning at the memory of the look he gave me before they left—a silent, sweet goodbye that had left me empty and wanting.
But he's just amused.
A smirk ghosts over his lips, red and a little puffy from the pressure of my own against them. "So I definitely can't trust you to be quiet enough to fuck you properly..."
That warrants another whine and another roll of my hips, and I can feel his hand gripping my thigh a little tighter.
"Please... Spencer, I need you..."
His name rolling off my tongue must be what makes him give into me, because I barely have time to react before he's kissing me again, using both of his hands to lift the back of my skirt up and knead my ass.
"Wait... Are you wearing..."
I grin over his lips, wiggling my ass into his touch and utterly turned on by the fact that he knows what underwear I'm wearing just by touch.
"Mhmm," I answer, nipping his bottom lip. "Your favorite..."
The sound that rumbles in his chest as he crashes his body against mine has to be the sexiest thing I've ever heard. He's obviously trying not to be loud, but it's hard, and that makes the sound strained. He really wants this, wants to keep me, and to do that he has to refrain from going absolutely primal right now. He has to do anything to keep this quiet.
So he pushes me off of him, and I pout, thinking he's given up until we can get a true moment alone.
But I know that isn't the case when he spins his finger and then starts undoing his pants.
"Turn around, sweetheart," he huffs, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough that his erection emerges free. "You're gonna sit here, keep quiet, and keep my cock nice and warm, understood?"
Don't have to tell me twice... I'll fucking take what I can get.
So I spin, back up, and move all my clothing to the side, my skirt lifting as I nestle into Spencer's lap and hold my panties to the side. He laughs at my eagerness, though he isn't laughing much longer once I sink down onto him and get in real close. His hands come out to grab my chest and pull me flush against his own.
The way he stretches and fills me has my eyes rolling back, a long, happy sigh falling from my lips. I wish I could say I'm being dramatic about it, but I'm really not.
I'm genuinely relieved and satisfied with the burn.
"There's my girl," Spencer muses through a sigh of his own, his breath fanning gently over my neck right before he gives it an open-mouthed kiss.
His hands slip under the baggy sweater I'm wearing and run along the planes of my stomach, then up and up, taking the fabric with him until it rests above my bare chest. Being exposed like this, right in the middle of the living room while my mom is just upstairs, excites me more than I think it should.
While Spencer kisses and licks at my neck, his hands now gently kneading my breasts, I squirm.
He doesn't like that very much.
"Ah-ah," he warns, squeezing me tight and pulling me into him more. "Relax..."
He hooks his legs around mine then, spreading them apart and somehow filling me deeper. I whine, leaning my head back onto his shoulder and trying not to roll my hips.
Instead, I settle for clenching myself around him, and that seems to be the right move.
"Atta girl... Lay back and relax... Just feel me filling you up nice and slow..."
"Mmmm," I respond in kind as his hands loosen and glide down my body.
He's light with his touch, though the kisses on my neck feel hungry, and his cock feels heavy and thick inside me. It's a beautiful contrast, really, making me feel so full and yet so light, like I'm a raincloud.
Soon his fingers dip under my skirt and cover my hand, which is working at keeping my panties off to the side. He traces the curves of my fingers with his own, mumbling praises and scattering kisses along the side of my neck. And I'm distracted enough that I almost don't feel his other hand make gentle contact with my clit until I gasp from the sharp sensation.
I can feel his smile against my skin as he starts rubbing in slow, precise circles.
"That feel good, princess?"
"Uh huh," I breathe out, trying to keep still. My other hand digs into my knee in hopes that I can stay grounded and focused on keeping still. But despite that, I'm feeling rather calm. Satisfied...
Right where he wants me.
"Mmm..." He hums happily into my skin, continuing to kiss my neck while working my clit.
And I have no idea how long we lay there. It feels like it could be hours.
The TV is on, but we're not paying any attention to it. In the back of my mind I know that Mom could be done with her bath at any minute, but it's been too long without Spencer inside me... And even though he's not actually fucking me, just having him this close and feeling him touch me, fill me, breathe me in...
God, I never want it to stop.
I'm almost on the verge of coming, but he removes his hand from me and slides them up my stomach again.
I whine at the loss of orgasm, but he pays it no mind. "Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna start moving..."
I start to get excited, wiggling in his lap a little.
With a dark laugh, he brings his hands to my breasts, kneading them gently and nipping my earlobe. Getting my attention...
"But you're not gonna stop until I fill that slutty little cunt with my cum, got it? I don't care if you come more than once. I don't care if you come at all... I don't care if your mom comes down here and sees..."
I swear I almost come on the spot from his words alone.
And then his voice is somehow even darker, seeping through my skin and settling into the very deepest parts of me.
"You will not stop until you make me come, am I clear?"
I wouldn't deny him if I could. I'm so damn whipped by this man, so eager to please and be near him that he could ask me to do any fucking thing on the planet and I would.
My rational brain might have second-guessed that feeling if it hadn't been horny as fuck...
And so I get to it, maneuvering my hips and working Spencer's cock like my life depends on it. And honestly, it kind of does, because if my mother comes down and catches us I'm dead.
Despite the urgency, though, I relish every second of it. I try to remember every sensation vividly because I don't know when I'll get to feel it again. So every time I sit back down on his dick, I clench it on the way up, because I know that drives him wild and it also means I get to feel him grab me tighter.
I can't see him, not even really when I turn my head, but I can picture how he's probably biting his lip, trying not to be loud. His eyes are probably shooting daggers at the ceiling, praying to the heavens above that my mom won't come down.
But it looks like the heavens above have decided to damn us to hell.
That unmistakable sound of the drain in the tub rumbles through the ceiling and down the inside of the walls as the water travels through the pipes, and my heartbeat races faster than it ever has.
Spencer tugs my hair then, pulling my head to meet his shoulder once more. "You better hurry, little girl..."
That's when I finally come. My cunt throbs and shakes around him as I bounce as quietly as I can. His grip in my hair is tighter, urging me to keep going, and the sharp sensation seems to extend my orgasm a little.
I whimper and whine as I feel it, and that seems to be what does him in.
"Fuck, Y/N, that's it... That's my girl..."
Four more bounces from me is all it takes, and then he's holding my hips in place. He grunts as quietly as possible into my shoulder and fucks into me slowly, filling me to the brim with his cum and breathing harshly into my skin.
I can hear Mom walking around upstairs, most likely getting dressed, which means she'll be down any minute...
"Time to get up, princess," Spencer whispers a moment later, letting go of my hips.
I turn my head into his neck, whining. "I don'wanna..."
"I know, I know... But you have to."
I know he's right. But I can't just get up and lose him so quickly. I want to hold on for as long as possible.
So I tilt my head up and bring his lips to mine. Thankfully he doesn't reject me, instead returning my affections and sighing into my mouth. He's still sheathed inside me, and I can feel his cum very slowly starting to drip down.
I have to get up now...
My mouth reluctantly parts from his and pouts. I expect him to return it with a sad smile, but his lips are rather mischievous.
He smirks, lifting me off of him and quickly pulling my panties back in place. His cum instantly soaks into the thin, lavender fabric, and it only reminds me of his absence.
But then Spencer spins me around on the heels of my feet and presses his hand firmly to my clothed, sopping wet cunt under my skirt, rubbing it in and making me whimper out at the overstimulation.
"I missed you," he whispers sincerely. Sweetly...
I can't help but smile as I lean down to kiss him one more time.
"I missed you, too."
JULY 23rd
I've been looking forward to this weekend since Mom brought it up after her bath—A call from work. A weekend business trip across the country.
She would be gone for almost a whole week.
Spencer's already started on his coursework for the next school year so he'll be busy most days, but at night? That's when he's all mine.
The only hard part about this, really, is containing my excitement. Just yesterday Spencer got me alone and warned me that I better keep my cool and be patient. Though, the way he said it was hardly a bad thing considering it gave me an excuse to feel his hands on me, even in the laundry room where, more or less, this had all started.
Even now I can still feel their warmth and their heft as they grope and paw at my breasts while he attacks my neck with sloppy kisses.
But right now he's not here, and as much as I can't wait to spend the week with him, my mom is also going to be gone for that long.
Just because I'm fucking her boyfriend on a regular basis doesn't mean I don't still love her.
Though, the thought of it all makes me a little uneasy—I don't know what the future holds. I know Spencer obviously cares about my mom, but if it really gets to a point where they've been together long enough, would he ever marry her?
And then what?
It's one thing for him to be my mom's boyfriend, who doesn't live here and only stays when he can... But it's a whole other one to be my stepfather. And what if my mom wants to have another kid?
No.
I'm not even going to think about it... If it ever gets to that point, then we'll deal with it, but right now I've only known Spencer for nearly 2 months, and it's way too soon to be thinking about any of that right now.
"You gonna be alright without me for a week?"
I curl into Mom's side, laughing and thankful for her distraction. "I spend almost a whole year away at college without you, I think I can survive five days."
"Ugh, don't remind me. I wish you could just stay here with me forever."
"Ha, no you don't. I'm a menace."
"Only when you eat all my food and then complain that you're starving..."
My eyes roll affectionately. "Mom. That was one time, and I was fifteen and dramatic."
She kisses the top of my head and then rests her chin on it. "Then my point stands... You were only a menace when you were fifteen. Now you're an angel."
I can tell she's sincere, and when I tell her Thank you, it feels incredibly deceitful—Especially when she starts humming my favorite song and brushing through my hair with her fingers, just like she used to do to get me to sleep as a kid. The foggy feeling it sends through my bloodstream reminds me that I'm definitely not the same person I was back then.
Although, it is true that some things never change, and within minutes I'm soundly asleep in my mother's arms.
———
When Spencer and I are sending her off at the airport the next morning, my heart thrums wildly in my chest.
"You have Spencer's number in case of an emergency?" she asks me in a haste.
"Yes, Mom. For the thousandth time, I have his number, and I have Grandma's number, and I have just about every other number you've ever given me for emergency contacts."
She gives me The Look.
"Yes, I have it. And I'll be okay. I love you."
"Oh, I love you, too," she says, pulling me in for one last breath-reducing hug, though, that's not truly what knocks the breath from my lungs.
She goes to Spencer next, reaching up to give him a goodbye kiss. I'm expecting it. I'm okay with it.
But this is unlike any other kiss I've seen them share, and it admittedly makes me jealous.
Spencer almost has her off the ground, pressing her close to him and kissing her deeply. Her hands weave through his hair as he tilts his head, and this time I can see his tongue slip into her mouth.
"O—kaaay, my eyes are burning... Thank you for that..."
I know I can get away with that because it's a completely normal reaction to seeing your mother make out with anyone, so I don't feel bad about it one bit. And I especially don't feel bad about the warning look he gives me over my mom's shoulder when she comes to give me another hug.
But then she's gone, and minutes later we're leaving the airport parking lot, and I can't seem to shake my jealousy. Even when his hand rests politely on my knee.
The whole way home I only barely acknowledge his presence, giving him half-hearted smiles and remaining mostly still when he glides his hand higher up my leg. By the time his fingers slip under the hem of my skirt, I think he knows something is up, because it stops there.
He waits until we get in the house to bring it up.
"Y/N, are you okay?"
I plop myself down on the couch with an overexaggerated sigh. "Kinda..."
I know Spencer used to be a profiler, and really, it's not that hard to figure out what's wrong with me. But it's still a little scary how easily he just knows.
"You know I had to," he says, walking over and standing in front of me. "Keeping up appearances and whatnot."
He's right. And it's a consequence of what we've decided to do, so really I'm in no place to complain.
Still, I reach out and pull him in by the belt loops, leaning my face in rather close to his crotch. "You know... Actually, I think you just like making me jealous..."
The smile that dances over his lips is amused and downright sinful. "Oh?"
"Mhmm," I drawl, sliding my hands to the front of his pants and rubbing him through the fabric.
He laughs. "Yeah, you are pretty cute when you're all huffy."
With big eyes and a fluttering in my stomach at the way he looks down at me, I feel that pressing of jealousy start to lift off my chest. I know that within an hour he'll have me pinned under his body somehow, and the thought allows my response to come out clearly and without question.
"So how are you gonna make it up to me?"
———
We're already out of our clothes by the time we make it upstairs. And when we finally get into my bedroom, I'm about to shut the door and then Spencer stops me.
"No one's home, sweetheart... Leave it open."
He takes two steps and has me in his arms, his hands sliding down my back and resting over my ass. And when he gives it a squeeze, he grins down at me. "You're gonna be loud for me, understand?"
"Hey, that's on you," I tease, wiggling against him. "You want me loud? Make me loud."
His grip on my ass gets tighter as he pulls me closer, and I yelp out. "Don't challenge me, little girl... You'll regret it."
I laugh then, calling back to his earlier statement. "Aw... You're pretty cute when you're all huffy..."
"Alright, fine."
The next thing I know, I'm on my knees, and his hands are rooting in my hair. The rough carpet underneath me already burns, but I know in the end it's gonna be so worth it.
Spencer brings me close to his exposed crotch and tilts my head up to look at him. "I'm gonna fuck that attitude right out of your pretty little mouth, got it? And you're not gonna do a damn thing but take it like a good girl."
I would have asked him if that was a threat or a promise if he hadn't immediately shoved his dick in my mouth. It has me wet in an instant, the way he just pulls me onto him and starts fucking my face with an urgency that seems to contradict all the time we have. He needs me now, with no time for teasing or pleasantries, and I fucking love it.
Which is why I do as I'm told, enjoying every second as he holds my head still and snaps his hips forward, his velvety smooth cock gliding over my tongue and down my throat with ease. It doesn't take long for my eyes to water, my vision going blurry and my body growing hot. My face is angled straight ahead, but I still find a way to look up at him, and from this low angle?
It's the best thing I've ever seen.
No matter how many times I've been on my knees like this, staring up at Spencer as he loses himself at my hands (or rather my mouth, if you want to get technical), I swear I could never tire of it.
His eyes are glaring down at me as he concentrates, his arms are out in front of me as they hold my head in place, and his pubic bone and sculpted hips are right there, moving ferociously in front of my eyes. He's so deep in my throat for a few seconds, holding me down while I gag around him, that my nose is buried in the soft trail of hair that gathers on his skin, and I want to stay there forever.
But my gag reflex isn't much durable for more than fifteen seconds, much less forever, so I have to pull back.
Spencer pulls me off of him completely, a trail of spit following my lips and then detaching until it lands along my chin. I blink away some of the tears that had gathered in my eyes and pout up at him.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?"
"You're supposed to be making it up to me..." My voice is scratchy and a little hoarse now, but I know it'll probably be worse if Spencer really thinks he can make me as loud as he says (which I truly don't doubt for a second).
He tugs me up by the hair, and I whine as I get to my feet, my knees aching already. And then his mouth is on my cheek, gently kissing away a tear. "Aw, I thought you liked having my dick in your mouth..."
"I do..."I giggled a little, nestling into his body and feeling his erection, now slick with my saliva, press up against the inside of my thigh. "But I like it better in other places..."
"Mmm, you're right... I do, too..."
I certainly hadn't been expecting that answer.
But it doesn't surprise me when he walks us over to the foot of my bed and pushes me onto it. "Hands and knees, princess."
My knees still burn from the carpet, and I'm sure this squeaky-ass mattress won't alleviate the pain at all, but if there's one thing I've learned since having sex with Spencer it's that pain is all part of the pleasure.
So I don't question it. My limbs submit to his simple command, and once I turn away from him and perch myself on my hands and knees, I can feel him climbing on the bed and crawling up the backside of my body. His hands roam my ass and my waist, and within seconds he has his cock nestled against me.
He moves nice and slow at first, dragging the length of him through my slick cunt and ghosting the skin of my backside with his hands.
"Remember... Nice and loud, okay? Wanna hear how good I make you feel."
Like I could ever deny him. Even though I like to tease him and push his buttons, I couldn't think of a single thing in the moment that I'd ever deny him.
So he finally pushes into me, stretching me out well and good, and a low groan slowly rolls off my tongue like a waterfall. And I'm not doing it for his sake; It's like he draws it out of me like a syringe, and I'm utterly powerless against it... Against him.
Like I need a metaphor to explain how I'm well and truly his bitch...
"There she is..." Spencer breathes, reaching the very deepest part of me and staying there. "There's my obedient little girl... Tell me what you want."
I turn my head to get as good of a look at him as I can, and give him the pout to end all pouts. "I want you to fuck me, hard... Please?"
His answer is a gentle push forward, his body leaning over mine to take my hands and pin them behind my back, which pulls me up towards him so that my back is nearly flush with his chest. His hands are so big that one of them is able to hold both of my wrists while the other gathers my hair and tugs.
I feel like I'm being held by a bungee cord, especially when Spencer starts snapping his hips and pounding into me roughly. My knees are pushing into the springs of the mattress and lifting again with each thrust, and I can't help the stream of whimpers and shouts that escape me at the whole experience.
He lets go of my hair in favor of reaching around and palming my left tit, his pace never faltering for a second. Everything he's doing is precise and swift and so fucking good that my eyes can hardly stay open.
"I'm hearing you, pretty girl, but I don't think you're quite loud enough..." he grumbles in my ear, letting go of me and gently pushing me back down on the bed. He slips out of me and I whine at the loss, but I don't have to worry about it much longer when I feel him lay down over top of me and slam into me hard.
I yelp out, my hands reaching out and clutching the comforter for dear life. Spencer's hands, meanwhile, push up off the mattress on either side of my hips to lift himself up, and then he's grabbing my waist and pushing me into it while he fucks me.
When I instinctively shove my face down and try to muffle myself, though, one of his hands leaves my waist and comes up to tug my hair, pulling my head up. His hips pause, pressed deep into my backside, and I can feel how he's struggling to keep still.
"Uh-uh... No one's home, princess... Let it all out..."
He pulls back and plows into me again, and this time his pace is frustratingly slow. With each slam forward my voice grows louder, begging him for more with incoherence until I start to feel myself grow tense with pleasure.
"You're almost there, baby, I can feel it," Spencer breathes. His voice is far away, and I wish he was closer, his breath on my neck and his lips not far behind. But for now I gladly settle for his hands, tight and bruising on my hips, and the force of his pelvis as it collides brutally and wonderfully with my ass.
What finally brings me sweet release is the sound of him grunting out one word. A command. And once again it's like I'm powerless under his spell.
"Come."
I do, and he fucks me thoroughly through each wave. Even once I've finished, he chases his own orgasm for minutes.
By the sounds he's making and the way his hips falter here and there, I can tell he's close, but he wants to make it last. I want to tell him that we have all weekend, to maybe tease him a bit, but I'm so fucked out and incoherent that I couldn't have said a single word if I tried.
So I lay there and take it with a weary smile on my face, ever the whiny, whimpering mess that I am, and patiently wait for the moment he decides to let go.
And when he does, it's the most glorious feeling in the world. I'm tired, yes, but never tired enough to lift myself and wiggle my ass back into him, clenching myself around him and relishing in the way he grunts out my name. He empties himself into me, and I hum, positively satisfied and warm.
Before I know it, I'm sinking down within the comfort of my blankets, and I rest my head in my arms, the pillow still a little too far out of reach. And though I'm content, I still whine out sadly when Spencer retreats and leaves me feeling empty.
I'm about to tell him to get over here and cuddle me when I feel his weight redistribute, and it isn't long before he has his head between my legs, his tongue acting as a net for the cum that drips out of me. He barely touches me, only the tiniest of flicks with the tip of his tongue darting over my skin. I can't tell if I'm thankful because of the relief or if I want the burn to go on forever.
In the end, I don't really have a choice.
He pushes his tongue up, sweeping over my dripping cunt and cleaning me up. Suddenly his mouth is everywhere, making the most delicious sounds and bringing me closer to another orgasm, and all I can do is let it happen. My weary smile is joined by a fluttering pair of eyelids and a string of whimpers that are so small they don't dare drown out the words Spencer is grumbling between my legs.
Some of which, I can hear, sound out, "Another one..."
His finger adds to the mix, coming up and rubbing my clit in tight circles as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made, and within seconds I'm a writhing mess at his undoing.
I'm not sure how long it lasts, only that one second I'm tensing with another orgasm and the next I'm having my limbs moved.
Spencer is beside me in an instant, his face coming into view as I feel my breathing slow to a steadier pace. The longer I wait, the more focused I am on his features, soft and even a little concerned as he strokes some of the hair from my face.
"How are you feeling?"
The smile that beams across my face is just about the most natural thing I'd ever felt. And it seems to bring out those bright glints of adoration in his eyes that only ever serve to make my heart flutter, which makes what I tell him even more true.
"I'm happy."
JULY 27th
Waking up to Spencer next to me, while a daily occurrence these past few days, is still possibly the most surprising and comforting feeling in the world.
Our bodies never part. From the moment we lay down to sleep until the moment we wake up and decide it's time to start doing necessary daily things, not one inch of skin is untouched. Even when showering.
I think back to yesterday morning, where he dragged me out of bed because he had to pee and didn't want to leave me. I was slumped over the backside of his body while he went and then in his arms again while he ran us a shower to wake up.
It brings the widest smile to my face, however sleepy it may also be.
"What are you smiling for?"
I squint one eye open and see that Spencer is staring at me. I hadn't expected him to be awake.
"Just thinking about yesterday..."
He tightens his grip on my waist and pulls me even closer, my face instantly drawn to the crook of his neck. "Mmm," he hums as I nestle in and press a sleepy kiss to the bare skin at the column of his throat. "Which part?"
"Our shower."
I feel his thumb then, rubbing back and forth over my hip as clearly as I can feel him smile against the top of my head. "That was fun, wasn't it..."
"Mhmm," I agree. My lightly tongue traces over his collarbone before I kiss it again. "Our shower is much better equipped for sex than yours."
"So... What you're saying is that shower sex is out of the question this morning?" he confirms with a laugh.
"That's exactly what I'm saying..."
"Well then, princess, what uhh... What alternatives do you think we should try out?"
I start to laugh when he pulls my leg up over his waist and hoists me over on top of him. My face remains buried into his neck, though I trail my lips up and up until I reach his jaw.
"Hmm... What if I just ride you and see where it takes us?"
When my lips finally reach his cheek, Spencer shifts and captures them in a long, butterfly-inducing kiss before pulling away with a smile and brushing the hair from my face. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."
It helps that I can already feel him hardening beneath me, and from the moment I felt his hands on me, I'd been aroused.
Though, as soon as I line him up and get ready to start our morning the right way, his phone rings on the bedside table. I'm tempted to keep going, but he half pushes me off of him when he reaches and reads the name.
"It's your mom."
That instantly kills my mood.
With a dramatic sigh and a pout, I hop off of him and curl up under the covers, letting him answer.
"Good morning," he chirps rather happily, and I try not to imagine my moms smile on the other end of the line. Thankfully I can't hear her, but I can still see Spencer smiling as he greets her and goes through all the pleasantries that come with a long distance relationship; I miss yous and how are yous...
I wonder if he really does miss her. He must, at least a little, right?
I'm staring straight ahead now, picking at my nails while I wait for them to finish talking, but something feels off.
I can feel Spencer's eyes on me.
But then he asks, "What are you wearing?" through the phone with a voice so playful and seductive, and I snap my head around, glaring at him.
"Really?" I mouth.
The smirk on his face makes me want to chuck his phone across the room.
"Mmm," he hums, looking me dead in the eye. And the next time he speaks, I swear he's talking directly to me. "Why don't you take it off... I want to talk you through some things..."
I know my mom is hearing the roughness in his voice through the phone, but right now I can see his eyes, hungry as they rake over my body once I slowly peel the blanket away and reveal myself to him, and I know that his main goal isn't to get my mom off.
It's to finish what we started before she'd interrupted.
"Touch yourself for me, baby? Nice and slow. Just relax..."
He softly crawls over to me, keeping the phone to his ear with one hand while the other takes my knees and spreads them apart.
I start to touch myself as instructed, but he swats my hand away and winks, nestling between my legs. I lean up on my elbows and tilt my head, wondering where he's going with this, when he leans his other cheek into my thigh.
"You know what I'd do to you right now If I was there?" A small pause. And then, "I'd use my fingers to slowly stretch you open... Feel you contract around me..."
His fingers do exactly like he says, and I have to stop myself from making any sound. The evil grin growing on his face as he does it all makes it even harder.
"I'd finger-fuck you nice and slow," he continues in a voice just above a whisper. "Until you're begging me for more."
When his eyes meet mine, once more I want to lean forward, snatch his phone, and smash it on the floor. I want him to utterly devour me, without any interruptions or avoidances at getting caught.
But he's such a fucking tease.
Mom must be talking on the other end, because Spencer is silent, slowly fucking me with his fingers and watching them intently as they disappear inside me. Entranced... The thought of her speaking to him and holding his attention makes me jealous— Sure, he's fucking me right now, but really, she's the one calling the shots.
I lean my head back in frustration, letting out the tiniest of whines and grinding my hips up into his hand, hoping and pleading for more.
A low laugh leaves him. "Please, what?"
It's not lost on me that my mom must have asked for more from him at the same time I did... It cements just how absolutely fucked this whole situation is, and yet I can't help but clench around his fingers in earnest, silently pleading with him to go on.
He removes his fingers from me and I sigh out, trying not to disrupt their call.
"And... How would you like me to fuck you?" he asks, looking at me with an evil grin and knowing damn well I can't actually answer.
After he gets her answer, he climbs up on his knees and spreads my legs further, throwing one of them up on his shoulder while he leaves the other on the bed. Since he only has one hand to work with, he gestures to it and I help him out, lifting my other leg up to my chest and holding it with one arm to let him get inside at a good angle.
"Yeah, and how do you want it, baby?" He lines himself up with me and very slowly sinks the head of his cock in, holding it and running his hand along my stomach. "I'm thinking... I'd like to fuck you so slow you're practically writhing beneath me..."
I stick my tongue out at him, and then without warning he slams into me. I bring a hand to my mouth and bite down on my finger, trying not to make a sound.
"You're gonna be patient... And you're gonna let me take my time... Until you're nice and desperate... Whining out for me like a good little whore..."
Each sentence is punctuated with another thrust, hard and deep, followed by a short pause, and it's all I can do not to cry out his name and beg him to go faster.
Mom must be talking on the line again, because Spencer doesn't say a word as he fucks me. His pace doesn't pick up or slow, and his own self control starts to recede—I can see it in his features. I can also feel it in the way his free hand grips my leg. He wants to go faster, he wants to lose control, and this is killing him just as much as it's killing me.
But then he pants into the phone, his voice breaking a little as he pauses and rolls his hips into me, slow and burning. I whine into my hand as quietly as possible, and he asks the question that will seal my fate.
"Where do you want it?"
I wait, clenching around him and praying for the result I want.
And then he laughs. "Yeah? You like when I paint you with my cum, huh?"
I shake my head, silently begging him to resist and stay inside me, but he only shrugs as if to say, Sorry about your luck, and then pulls out, leaving me whiny and desperate.
Just like he said.
And then, he comes all over me, stroking himself fast and hard. Even though I've still yet to feel any sort of relief, seeing him in front of me like this, feeling his warmth dance across my skin in warm spurts, and hearing him groan out as he watches my body gladly accept it all...
It's quite honestly the most satisfying thing I've ever seen.
I can't say I'm not happy, though, when he slumps down and pants, sighing out a few goodbyes to my mom and then tossing his phone on the floor when she hangs up.
He smiles at me then, and I pout.
"You're evil..."
"Mmm, you love it," he drawls, leaning down and starting to dart his tongue over the mess he made on my stomach. Meanwhile his finger finds its way inside me again, and I feel myself start to turn into a writhing mess once more.
And he's right.
I do love it.
JULY 29th
Approaching the front door with Mom in step behind me, knowing that Spencer awaits for her on the other side isn't what makes my heart jump out of my chest.
It's the look on both of their faces when they see each other.
Though I push Mom forward to go see him, it nearly breaks me seeing her run into his arms. He picks her up and spins her around, reminiscent of their little moment at the airport, and the pure happiness on her face specifically makes my stomach twist.
This time it isn't jealousy.
It's guilt.
She's... incredibly happy. I don't think I've ever seen her this happy before. She's positively beaming as she hugs him tight and buries her face into his chest.
And when he looks past her head and looks over at me, I feel it.
The heartache.
Spencer's eyes burn holes into my own, and fill them with a sympathy that makes me feel more wounded than comforted.
I wonder then if he can see it on my face; The way I'm trying not to break down and cry... The way I'm only holding myself together by the weak smile I'm wearing, both to assure him that I'm fine and also to feign happiness for my mother, rather than the aching envy and sadness that festers within every crevice of my soul.
I offer to grab more of Mom's things from the car and dart right back out the door to avoid them for a little while. Maybe to also get some fresh air, even though I'd just been outside less than a minute ago.
After flinging open the trunk of the car, I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my chest start to tighten at the realization that I might be starting to fall in love with him.
A man who isn't mine, and who could never be.
———
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12 Grimmauld Place (5/?)
Pairings: Sirius Black (post Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader
Word Count: 2,909
Warnings: lil angsty
A/N: The longest chapter yet and it’s entirely in Sirius’ perspective! Hope I wasn’t too far off from his inner monologue. Also lots of spicy Tonks cause I love her.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6
Sirius’ POV
Feeling intrusive, I caught Tonks’ eyes as Remus and Y/N hugged each other, her sobbing into his shoulder. With a quick twitch, I signaled to her that we let them have a moment. She nodded and followed me into the living room.
“Still haven’t gotten around to cleaning anything, have you?” she teased, gesturing to the layer of dirt and dust that seemed to cover every inch of the house.
“Whenever you feel up to joining in...” I teased back.
“Well, it looks like you’ll have Y/N to help you with that,” she responded, raising her eyebrows at me in a funny way.
“What?” I asked.
“Y/N,” she looked at me meaningfully. But not knowing what she meant, I stared blankly back. “You men--it’s a wonder you make it up in the morning by yourselves...Obviously, her flat is no longer safe. She’ll have to stay out of sight for a while too. What better place to both be safe and stay out of sight than here?”
“Stay here?” I asked dumbly. Sure, I figured she’d stay the night, but it never occurred to me that this would be the best place for her. But now that Tonks pointed it out, it did make sense. Not like she could go back to her blown flat; besides, she was vulnerable there. Vulnerable and alone.
“Yes, cousin. Are you alright?” she laughed at my bewildered state, but I didn’t find it so funny. It was difficult to ignore my feelings for her when I wasn’t seeing her every day. How was I supposed to manage now?
At school, it was easier to manage. In the hallways, I’d look at anyone but her, smirking at any girl I caught looking at me, any sort of distraction. But when Moony wanted to go have a chat with her, well, I’d have to plainly look away, instead contenting myself with glaring at passing male members of her house, daring any of them to speak up or look at her.
Remus had made his views very clear in the year of her arrival. He’d been gushing about since first year, always saying how she’d enjoy something or another. I still remember her terrified face during Sorting dissolving into a bright smile when her eyes found us seated at the Gryffindor table. Remus waved excitedly at her from his seat, the rest of us doing the same--all hoping she’d soon join us. However, upon seeing the rest of us with him, her face turned bright red, and her eyes went terrified once more. Before I could even shoot her a reassuring smile, she’d turned back to McGonagall. Unfortunately, she’d been placed in Slytherin, something we never let poor Moony forget. That night in the common rooms after everyone else had long gone to bed, he’d made us all swear to never lay a finger on her--to essentially be another three big brothers--never to look at her in any sort of way. Of course we all made the promise, but I couldn’t honor it.
I still found myself scouring the Great Hall for her face at mealtimes, ducking around shelves in the library in between classes looking for her. I always made sure to be on my best behavior in front of Remus, but behind his back, my eyes couldn’t wait to hungrily devour his sister. Her witty remarks as some Gryffindor teased her, her filthy mouth when a fellow Slytherin made the wrong comment--and just when I thought I couldn’t fall for her any more deeply, I’d caught her hexing a Gryffindor in the corridor. The poor bloke came out a few seconds later, clutching his jaw and nose, both of which were expanding at an alarming rate. She came skipping round the next moment, smiling broadly at her achievement. It was all I could do not to kiss her right then.
“Sirius?” Tonks asked, pulling me from my memories.
“Sorry, yes?” I asked, trying not to appear as anxious about it all as I was.
“What’s your problem?” she asked. Looking at her, I weighed my options. On the one hand, the only living soul who knew about how I felt about Y/N was now no longer, in fact, living. On the other, keeping it such a secret allowed me to continue in my friendship with Moony. Lovely as she was, I couldn’t have anything come between us. Not when we were the only ones left.
“I--” I started to begin the story, but upon remembering James, I stopped. “Nothing.”
“Sirius,” Tonks started, an offended look on her face. “I am your cousin. You tell me right now, or I’ll go get Remus, and he will.”
“You would, wouldn’t you,” I said, a fond smile coming on my face as I looked at her.
“I most certainly would.” she threatened. With her hands on her hips, I was suddenly reminded strongly of Mrs. Weasley, which only made my smile bigger. “Now, go on and tell me, you grinning git!”
“Alright, lower your voice. Can you keep a secret?” I asked, looking at my hands.
“Course I can,” she indignantly responded.
“Well, there’s a, a slight--er, problem, with Y/N staying,” I said quietly, keeping an ear out for her sniffles.
“Problem? What problem? Not like you don’t have enough rooms. Or is it you fancy her or something?” she said, laughing. I kept quiet, and after a moment or two, realization began dawning on her face.
“Oh, but Sirius, she’s Remus’ sister!” Tonks said, looking at me scoldingly.
“Don’t you think I know that, Nymphadora?” I barked, angry that she responded the way I feared.
At the sound of her birth name, her hair began burning bright red, and I retreated.
“Sorry, it’s just--I know, okay? I’m very much well aware of the fact she is Remus’ sister. Why do you think I’ve kept my distance all these years?” I said.
“Likely cause you were in Azkaban,” she pointed out. I gave her a nasty look, and she smiled softly. “Next time, don’t use my full name.”
I rolled my eyes and began anxiously pacing the floors. This was wrong; this was all wrong. The one girl Remus said was off-limits. All he let me get away with all those years at Hogwarts. With a fresh pang of guilt, I recalled a put-out looking Remus looking at me while I talked to a tall, blonde Ravenclaw during Charms. It was only years after I learned he’d had a thing for her--but to my defense, I’d have backed off without a complaint if he’d only told me.
“All these years?” Tonks said, liking working things out in her head. “Surely that doesn’t mean...since Hogwarts?”
“Yes,” I admitted miserably. “Since her first year.”
“First year?” she shouted.
“Keep down your voice.” I hissed at her, pausing to hear Remus speaking softly to Y/N.
“Sorry,” she winced. “But really, since first year and you’ve never said anything?”
“Well, I couldn’t. Remus made us all swear to leave her alone--and bloody hell, was that a job. After school, it was easier, once I was able to keep my distance. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muggles say. Sorry, you know how Arthur loves his Muggles.” I laughed as she gave me a funny look. “And then--as you so astutely pointed out--I was in Azkaban. So it really hasn’t been a problem these last few years.”
“But now she’s living in your house,” she pointed out.
“Precisely,” I responded, running a hand over the scruff on my face. She remained quiet, looking thoughtful for a few minutes before responding.
“Well, this is just bloody ridiculous. You’ve got to do something,” she said.
“Do something? Do what? How could I betray Remus like that? He’s the only one left, Tonks. How am I supposed to betray him this way, especially after James, and then all the time apart, and then managing to let Peter slip through our fingers? I can’t do this to him.” I reasoned, beginning to harden my resolve.
“Oh, you are bloody ridiculous, you know that?” she sighed, running her fingers through her now bubblegum-pink hair.
“Excuse me?” I said, stopping my pacing to glare at her.
“Bloody ridiculous!” she repeated, “Sirius, that was years ago. That was a feeble promise forced to be made by an older brother before his friends got horny and couldn’t think straight.”
“What?” I said, pulling a face as I considered her words.
“Remus made you all promise that so young so she wouldn’t become a plaything of yours, especially when the both of you turned out to be such whores.” Tonks laughed.
“Whores? I was not a whore! And certainly not James, why after fifth year I don’t think I ever heard so much as a comment about any girl besides Lily.” I defended the both of us, vaguely aware of how I’d ridiculously brought my hands to my hips in indignation.
“Sirius, you’re family, you know I love you--but Merlin, you were the biggest sodding slut the whole of Gryffindor has ever seen! I’d bet there isn’t a room in the castle you haven’t done something naughty in.” she laughed once more. I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn’t come up with a room fast enough--only proving her point.
“Now, you two are not schoolchildren anymore. You are a grown man, Sirius. There’s no need to honor such a trivial and unnecessary pact.” She took a step towards me and put her hand on my cheek, dropping her voice. “Think of how much you’ve suffered, Sirius. Think of what you’ve lost; think of who you have lost. Remus has suffered the same loss. He lost James just as you did, but he also lost you. He thought you’d gone bad, thought Peter dead--James and Lily were dead. And then, years later, you return--innocent. You came back to him, and he, you. Things like that change a man. I’m sure there’s no one on this planet he trusts more with his sister than you. Don’t sacrifice your happiness for one more minute, cousin. Especially not when things look so similar to how they looked before, back when it all went wrong. Don’t waste another minute; I’m not going to either.”
Shaken at her words, I remained quiet for a few moments. So much had changed since that night in Gryffindor tower. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the idea so much anymore. Besides, he trusted me enough to keep her safe.
My happiness...I’d never given the idea much thought, never considered it much of a possibility after being imprisoned. Never had reason to since. But now, my brain was swimming with possibilities.
“Hang on,” I said, remembering the end of her monologue. “You aren’t going to either?”
She cursed under her breath before looking at me.
“Noticed that, did you?” she grimaced. I merely looked at her expectantly. “Alright, fine. Can you keep a secret?”
“I mean, if I outed you, you could just out me,” I pointed out.
“True, alright. Well, it’s Remus,” she whispered, avoiding my eyes.
“You and Remus?” I asked, frowning in thought.
“And what about it?” she said, looking at me testily.
“Well, nothing really. It’s just I never thought about it...are you sure?” I asked after a moment. I loved them both, but the thought had never even crossed my mind once. Surely if there was something between my cousin and my best friend, I’d have suspected something by now.
“Of course I’m sure, you git,” she hissed at me.
“So then why aren’t you together?” I asked. I couldn’t think of any reason they shouldn’t be if they both felt that way. Not like I had a sit down with the lot of them about not dating her.
“Because he too is being ridiculous. Refuses to even look at me most of the time. Says I’m too young, says I deserve better than him.”
“Better than Moony? Good luck with that one, cousin.” I laughed, shaking my head at the thought.
“That’s what I keep saying, but he’ll hear none of it. Says I deserve better than a shabby, poor old werewolf.” she rolled her eyes.
“Is that really what he thinks of himself as? A shabby old werewolf?” I asked, sad for my friend. If anybody deserved happiness, it was Remus. Before she could answer, we heard him calling.
“Pads?” I suddenly heard. He entered the room alone, smiling softly at the two of us.
“Hey, mate.” I smiled at him, opening my arms once more. Remus had always grudgingly accepted my affection, which only made me more inclined to give it knowing it bothered him. And as I knew he would, he rolled his eyes and smiled as he accepted.
“Perhaps we should stay...” Remus said, looking to Tonks and then back to the kitchen.
“Ooh no, you don’t. We’ve got to go, cut up sister or not. Besides, who better to take care of her than Sirius? Isn’t as if he’s got anything better to do. Perhaps she could persuade him in actually cleaning something in this wretched house.” Tonks added, gesturing to filth. I glared at her but remained silent; she was right. The house was filthy, but it was painful enough to be here, let alone restore the bloody thing.
“Suppose you’re right...” Remus said after a moment, “Take good care of her, Pads.”
“Course I will, Moony. Always took good care of you, didn’t I?” I jeered.
“Not bloody likely! And don’t you go taking credit for that, that was all Madam Pomfrey,” he scolded, wagging his finger at me like he used to as a Prefect. “The group of you could hardly stand to sit still in the hospital wing for half an hour, let alone get me through a transformation!” As Remus told his story, Tonks looked at him with a funny look, and with an alarming pang, I realized Y/N often shot me the very same look. Did that mean she felt for me as Tonks felt for Remus?
“That is bang out of order, mate! I worked hard at becoming an Animagi! Took years, it did. Don’t remember seeing Madam Pomfrey out trotting about with a teenage werewolf. Besides, kept your arse out of trouble!” I bantered back, smiling jovially.
“Oh, it just as easily could’ve gotten me in trouble,” Remus shook his head at the memories.
“But it didn’t, did it?” I teased, “You know you loved it just as much as we did, Moony. Try as you might to remain all high and mighty. Ickle Prefect Moony,” I jeered, poking at him as he laughed.
“Alright, alright. C’mon, let’s go before the two of you really start down memory lane. We’ve got to meet Dumbledore.” Tonks said, gently steering Remus towards the door.
“Hang on, you’re going to Hogwarts?” I asked. I couldn’t help but be jealous.
“Briefly. That wretch woman gets nosy when we’re there for more than a quick pop in.” Remus said; the disgusted look on his face told me he meant Umbridge.
“Ah, well, say hello to Harry for me if you see him. I hear the little scamp likes roaming round nearly as much as we did.” I smiled after them.
“That he does; I still remember catching him with that map...I don’t even know how he got ahold of it. James would’ve been so proud, out in the dark corridors taunting Snape. Like father, like son.” Remus smiled fondly at the memory before hanging his head slightly and ambling off to join Tonks. My chest hurt at the mention of James and Harry, and I was once more painfully reminded of my solitude. What I wouldn’t give to see James again...
I followed them to the door, waving goodbye as the two of them popped out of sight. I stared longingly at the spot where they’d disapparted.
Standing in place, I gave myself a moment to gather my thoughts before returning to the kitchen.
Tonks had made many good points, but were they just good because I was looking for any kind of reason to be with her? Did they actually make sense, or was I just looking for an out?
Remus had only made us promise once in the wee hours of the morning in the Gryffindor common room. Besides, if family was off-limits, well, that made him a right hypocrite, didn’t it? He did leave her here with me though, with the promise I’d take good care of her. That meant, to some degree, Remus trusted me with her. Would I be breaking that trust by going with my gut with Y/N?
Good and evil continued to argue on my shoulders, but if I waited for a decision, I might be here for years.
What’s more, was she even interested in me? I mean, sure, I’d caught her staring in school--but that was years ago; a lot had changed since then. But then there was the blush that always colored her cheeks every time I said something cheeky, the relief on her face when I’d met her in the port key room. Surely she wouldn’t let someone she detested bathe her, right?
I resolved to simply flirt. If that went well, then she felt something too. And if she felt something too...well, let me not get ahead of myself.
*******************************
Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh @green-intervention @stopbeingcurious
#Harry Potter#harry potter fanfiction#Harry Potter Smut#Hermione Granger#Ron Weasley#Granger#Ginny Weasley#Fred and Goerge Weasley#weasley twins#weasley#tonks#remus x tonks#remus lupin x tonks#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black smut#sirius black fanfiction#sirius#black#post azkaban sirius#sirius x reader#Draco Malfoy#Draco#daddy draco#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#Crabbe and Goyle#vincent crabbe#Gregory Goyle
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Who are some of your favorite tv/book/movie characters? And what is it about them that you love?
Oh jesus there are so many and I'm brain farting on all of them. I need to have a think...
Let's start with the obvious because he's who this tumblr is about.
My sweet baby boy Peter Parker (tasm version but all Peter Parker's are precious to me):
Why? He's angsty, he loves to self flagellate, he blames the world's problems on himself, he's an introvert (now that I think about most of my fav characters are probably angsty introverts) he turns into a giddy nervous idiot around the girl he loves, he's sassy and cocky and stubborn and a bit of an ass at times, he's also a mushy little lover boy who simps hard for his ladies, he's a mommas boy (well...aunties boy), he mourns his losses hard and doesn't know how to get over them, he destroys personal relationships in misguided attempts to protect his loved ones, he's a perfect baby and can do no wrong and I love to turn him into a serial killing monster in my fics.
My second favorite sweet baby boy Spencer Reid:
Why? He's another sad angsty introverted baby. I have a type. A gentle personality with an intense drive to protect his loved ones. Is self sacrificing. Would give up his life and safety in a second to save a stranger. He's a literal genius with an eidetic memory. Much like Peter Parker he would be an absolute simp for his ladies. He just wants someone to love him for himself and not have to watch his love get shot in the head in front of his eyes and traumatize him forever. Is that too much to ask for this poor angel?? Omg him and Peter really are a lot alike. So much trauma.
My favorite vampire hunter Guillermo de la Cruz:
Why? I love that he started off being a timid pushover who's only dream was to become a vampire. Then he transforms in the most badass, gay, plus sized serial killer/vampire hunter. I'm pretty sure he's a sociopath. He's an evil bitch who looks like a sweet cherub in a grandpa cardigan. He has killed and will kill again to get what he wants. He will manipulate anyone and take control of his own life. I love him. I love that even though his morals are reprehensible, you still can't help but be on his side and root for his success in whatever nefarious scheme he has going on.
I should put this shit under a read more. I'm getting carried away and now I can't stop.
My heart and soul April Ludgate:
Why? I would die for Aubrey Plaza. April is my favorite weirdo. She's a mean, harsh, scary, sarcastic bitch on the outside but a nervous, self doubting, awkward, loyal baby on the inside. She is a queen and deserves the world. And she adopted a three legged pitbull named Champion. She gave birth in full zombie make up. She's a Halloween loving freak. Her friends become her family. She's a ride or die kind of girl. She is perfection.
Yes I fell hard on the Munson train, sue me:
Why? Why not? Look at him! He's lovely! He's an 80's outcast nerdy metal head who sells pot to his peers out of his lil lunch box. What a hero! People love to discuss his sexuality. To throw my hat into the mix, personally, I think he's pansexual. I think he would straight up fall in love with anyone who gives him an ounce of kindness and attention. He's a little dumb scaredy cat with a heart of gold and probably chain smokes himself to sleep every night. 10/10 would ride him deep into the night. He might of died young (in the dumbest way ever like the dumbass that he is) but he will always live on in the fics I create in my headspace as I go to bed each night.
okay last one
Michonne from the Walking Dead:
Why? I would let her behead me with her katana without a second thought. She's the most bad ass bitch on that show (granted I haven't actually watched the show in forever, I stopped after Carl died, but I still adore those first handful of seasons). Like most of my other idiots on this list, Michonne is a quiet introvert who is fiercely loyal to people she considers family. She doesn't say much but when she does, it's important and you should fucking listen. She's intelligent, crafty, knows how to survive, and is stronger than any man on that show. What's not to love?
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give us a random headcanon go 👀
UHM OK
So
This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-
Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.
Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.
Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.
When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.
When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”
They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.
Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.
“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”
“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”
Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”
Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”
“You look just like him.”
“What was he like?”
Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”
Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”
Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”
Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”
“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”
On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.
“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”
And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.
He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”
When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”
Which. Mark obeys.
Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.
Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.
“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”
“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”
Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”
Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”
“The fuck did you do to me?”
“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”
“You WHAT.”
“Three times.”
They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.
In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.
Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.
Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”
Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.
“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.
The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.
He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.
“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”
“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”
“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”
“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”
“So... are you... like...?”
Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”
“I think I’m straight.”
Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”
Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”
“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”
Which brings me to my next point
Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.
He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..
“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”
“But what if-“
“No.”
That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”
“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”
“How do I like... do that?”
Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“
“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”
Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”
Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺
#yes I own that pikachu doll shut up#and yes it was worth every penny#axel cluney#axel cluney angst#axel cluney fluff#axel cluney imagine#axel cluney deadpool two#axel cluney deadpool 2#deadpool two#deadpool two angst#deadpool two fluff#deadpool two imagine#deadpool 2#deadpool 2 fluff#deadpool 2 angst#deadpool 2 imagine#mark#mark assassination nation#mark fluff#mark angst#mark imagine#assassination nation fluff#assassination nation angst#assassination nation imagine#axel cluney x mark#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard angst#bill skarsgard imagine#bill skarsgard fluff#bill skarsgård
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folklore - isaac lahey {1/?}
my first isaac piece... y’all i can’t even lie this kind of got away from me but here we are so let me know if you want me to commit to making this a series!!
this is pre-bite isaac!!!! because i haven’t seen anybody write for him before he was bitten so i wanted to explore the dynamic of him and reader while he was just normal, which obviously i’ll get more into in future parts if anyone would be interested in reading more <33 feedback would be really appreciated !!!!!
masterlist
word count: 3.2k
warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse (i think that’s it but let me know if i missed anything)
mostly fluffy but a lil angsty
i’m gonna tag the people that replied under the post i made asking if anyone wanted an isaac fic hope that’s okay <3 let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list for possible future parts!
tagging: @makeusfreefromthisfandom (thank you for putting up with me while i attempted to write this), @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @tanyaherondale again lemme know if you wanna be removed or added <3
PART 2
You could remember with complete clarity the day you'd met your best friend, who also kind of happened to be your only friend, but that minor detail didn't even matter as you wouldn't ask for anyone else or anyone more and what was better was that you knew for a fact that said best friend felt the exact same about you.
It was the first day of middle school when you'd met your long time best friend, both of you had been wide eyed and hopeful about the coming years as you were seated beside each other in your very first class. He'd been shy at first, glancing at you with a nervous smile and playing with the zip of his pencil case when the teacher instructed you all get to know the person beside you.
"My name's (Y/n), what's yours?" You asked him, a friendly smile on your face- you knew from the get go that you were the louder of the both of you.
"I'm Isaac." He answered you with a smile that was more certain than the last one he'd offered you.
He'd tensed up again, however, when you pointed towards his backpack. Even so early in the day someone had already poked fun at the bag that was covered in comic book characters that the boy loved so much, with the way you pointed at it excitedly he couldn't help the nerves that built up in him, he didn't know why you were excited, you either liked his backpack or you liked teasing people, he seriously didn't know.
His nerves settled down once you'd actually opened your mouth, "Woah, your bag is so cool! You like Spider-Man too?" Your eyes sparkled with excitement and Isaac finally allowed himself to reciprocate it.
"Thanks! Spider-Man is my favorite superhero! Do you read comics?" He asked you with a smile that had widened significantly since the beginning of your meeting.
"No, I don't have any comic books at home…" You explained with a slight frown before your lips lifted back upward as you continued, "I watch all the movies with my dad, though!"
Isaac nodded in understanding, blue eyes shining bright with happiness that he'd made a friend so easily, while he usually found the task quite difficult since he was very soft spoken, your charismatic energy seemed to rub off on him as he found himself talking to you easily.
"I've got some in my backpack, do you want to read them with me at lunch?" The boy asked hopefully, his shy demeanor returning ever so slightly as he realized he'd just taken a leap of faith, something he didn't love doing.
Head nodding enthusiastically, your smile grew only wider, "Yeah!"
The memory always made you smile as you'd sat with each other at that lunch time and at every other lunch time from that day onwards. You and Isaac were a pair, as you grew up you did mostly everything together, his father and brother loved you and your parents loved him just the same.
He knew all of your secrets and you knew all of his, including how abusive his father became after the death of his older brother, he'd told you but under the condition that you didn't breathe a word to anyone else, so you kept your mouth shut but did everything in your power to support him in the aftermath of a punch or emotional scar.
Isaac often voiced how much you meant to him, despite the fact that he wasn't great with putting his feelings into words, he always managed to remind you that he was sure you were some sort of guardian angel to him or how you were really and honestly his favorite person in the whole world. The proclamations more often than not came mixed with shaking breaths and sobs from your favourite boy. You were both sixteen the first time it happened.
A knock on your front door tore your attention away from the show you were watching, you raised an eyebrow in question. Neither of your parents were home and you weren't expecting them back until the next morning, shrugging your shoulders you made your way to the front door, opening it revealing Isaac looking more broken than you'd ever seen him in your five years of friendship, his blue eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, cheeks painted in tear tracks and loud sniffles sounded from him along with a sob that threatened to rip your heart out when he met your eyes.
Immediately you'd rushed him through your doorway, barely taking the time to shut the door before you had your arms wrapped around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to reach him due to how tall he'd become in the last few years. His arms wrapped around you in seconds as he began shaking against your smaller frame, sobs wracking his body violently.
After a minute, when his cries didn't die down as they usually did, you ushered him towards the couch, sitting him down and taking the seat beside him while you looked him over for any obvious injuries.
The only thing you noticed was that his fingernails were stubbed and bloody, as if he'd broken them trying to claw himself out of somewhere. You slowly and gently placed your palm to his cheek, stroking your thumbs under his eyes, removing his tears as you did. He was cold, no, he was freezing and you couldn't tell if he was shaking from the temperature or from whatever trauma his father had inflicted on him to put him in such a state.
"What happened, Isaac?" You asked softly, scooting closer to him when his hands reached out for you, they clutched the fabric of your hoodie- his hoodie- tightly, he only shook his head, pulling you into him completely, arms now wound tightly around your torso as he cried into your shoulder, you'd never seen him this shaken up, you'd never felt his tears soak through two layers of your clothing but you supposed there was a first time for everything as your curly haired best friend couldn't fight the tears that just kept flowing.
Your hands ran through his curls, scratching softly at the nape of his neck, something that usually always worked in calming him right down, only it wasn't working and you couldn't stand the way he was still freezing, you wanted to help him, you always helped him, you were at a loss as he cried this time though, you didn't know how to help.
"You're freezing." You murmured, his breath hitched at your statement and you had to move his head from its spot between your neck and shoulder, hands back on his cheeks.
Reluctantly you separated from him, fighting the urge to throw yourself back in his arms when he let out a panicked whimper, quickly you grabbed the throw blanket you kept on the armchair beside the couch and made your way back to Isaac's side, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders tightly and rubbing your hands up and down his arms softly, you tried your best to heat him up.
"I'm going to make you a hot drink, ok? Then we can talk- or watch a movie or just- yeah. I'll be back in a minute. I'm right in the kitchen if you need me." You fretted, kissing his forehead before rushing into the kitchen. Hot chocolate always cheered Isaac up, he'd once proclaimed that if he could only drink one beverage for the rest of his life it would be hot chocolate. You really needed a win with him tonight so with shaking hands you began making a cup of hot chocolate for your best friend.
It got hard sometimes, staying strong when you saw him so broken, sometimes you wanted nothing more than to cry with him, let the pain you felt for him consume you, but you never did, not in front of him anyway. If there was one thing he hated more than himself being upset it was making you upset and you knew that, you knew that it you cried for him in his presence he'd be reluctant to confide in you in fear of upsetting you. You couldn't have that, he needed you and you needed to be there for him, even if it hurt.
So you took a deep breath and walked back to your living room, cup of hot chocolate in hand, relief flooded you when you noticed Isaac had stopped crying, he was still sniffling but the tears had ceased.
"Here bub." You placed the cup in his cold, shaky hands before returning to your place pressed against his side, "Thank you."
His voice was scratchy and broken as he spoke, "Not just for the drink." He added on, voice merely a whisper.
Shaking your head you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, "You don't have to thank me for anything." You told him quietly, he'd never ever owe you anything and you wouldn't want him to ever think he did.
"But I want to." Isaac placed the cup on your coffee table and took both of your hands in his, "You're the only good thing I have left." His voice was certain and as steady as he could make it because as horrible as his experiences were, the thought of being able to collapse into you once it was over got him through it.
Without saying a word you rested your head against his shoulder and tightened your grip on his hands, holding them in your lap while you waited for him to continue.
"I don't know what I'd do without you." Titling your head up at his words you let your lips press to his cheek, something you did often.
"Well, you don't ever have to worry about that because I'm not going anywhere." You reassured him, a smile rising on your face when his lips met your forehead.
You and Isaac were always affectionate with each other, from sharing beds at sleepovers to holding hands if one of you was anxious. Naturally, you were very touchy person and it played in your favor that your best friend craved physical affection. The two of you just worked.
And sure sometimes when he'd hug you from behind or when he'd absentmindedly play with your hair you wished that he was more than just your best friend. What you didn't know was that Isaac felt the same, every time he told you that he loved you he wanted you to know just how much he really meant it, let you know that the words ran way deeper than just your friendship.
What made things difficult was trying to act none the wiser about Isaac's home life when his father would invite you over for dinners or movie nights, the same way he used to before he started using his youngest son as an emotional and physical punching bag. It was genius really, he kept up appearances and if you hadn't gotten the truth out of Isaac you probably wouldn't have guessed that his father was such a scumbag.
Tonight was one of those nights. Mr. Lahey invited you to stay for dinner when he noticed you studying with Isaac, helping him with chemistry, at the dining table. Not wanting to leave Isaac alone with the man for any longer than he absolutely had to be you had taken him up on his offer.
You even helped him make the meal, it was times like that you were extremely thankful for your acting skills.
Isaac's father sat at the head of the table while yourself and Isaac sat across from each other either side of the table.
"So (Y/n), d'you find yourself a boyfriend yet?" The older man asked you with a smile, "Dad-" Isaac chastised, his eyes wide and cheeks blushing a rose red.
"Um, no not yet." You answered, glancing at Isaac quickly before moving your gaze to his father, "How are things at the graveyard?" You asked sweetly, praying to God that he'd drop the topic of your love life. What were you supposed to say? "No I don't have a boyfriend but I am in love with your son who you're abusing you piece of shit."?
Luckily, he didn't push on the subject any further, "It's been busy lately with all these animal attacks."
"It's a mountain lion right?" You asked with interest, looking at Isaac now, the boy shrugged, letting out a chuckle at your curiosity, "That's what everyone's been saying."
"I heard from Scott McCall that it's some kind of wolf." You explained, finishing off your plate as Isaac raised an eyebrow, "You know McCall?"
"Yeah, he sits next to me in homeroom, he's pretty nice. Anyway he said him and Stiles were out in the woods and he swears that he heard a wolf howling." You shot off, a million theories cooking up in your head as the words left your lips excitedly. You didn't miss the soft smile on Isaac's face as he listened to you talk so passionately.
The hearty chuckle of his father cut you off and you turned your head to look at him, "There hasn't been a wolf in California in over sixty years." He stated, standing from the table, collecting your plates and placing them in the sink before pointing to Isaac.
"Whatever it is, it got someone else last night so I need you to go down to the yard and start digging." Isaac only nodded, pushing himself up, "I'll walk (Y/n) home and then I'll head over."
"Sure, you kids be careful out there." He replied superficially, letting out one last chuckle as he left the room completely.
"You ready to go, bubs?" You ask, grabbing your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder, "What?" You asked when you noticed Isaac hadn't moved but was instead looking at you with a quirked eyebrow and a fond smile, his arms crossed infront of his chest.
"You gonna be warm enough walking home in that?" He motioned towards your blouse and you threw your head back in frustration and grumbled, "No probably not."
"Wait here, I'll grab you something." He told you, pecking your cheek as he passed you.
It only took Isaac a minute to return to the kitchen, grey cardigan in hand, he loved that cardigan but in all honesty he loved it more when it was on you, which is why he picked it for you to wear on your walk home. Usually you forgot to give his clothes back to him when he'd leave you at your doorstep, which always led to you wearing it into school the next day, he absolutely loved when you wore his cardigans and his hoodies, the way the sleeves hung way past your wrists made you look so adorable to him and he had to stop himself from throwing his entire closet at you.
"Is that your favorite cardigan I see?" You questioned, a knowing smile on your face.
Isaac gave you a playful shrug, handing the cardigan to you and stating, "My favourite cardigan for my favorite girl."
*
"Hey!" A whisper hissed from the desk behind you, glancing back you saw Stiles Stilinski leaning forward towards you, his entire upper half against his desk.
"Hi?" Your voice was uncertain as the boy with the buzzcut gave you a triumphant grin while Scott rolled his eyes from his seat beside you and infront of Stiles.
"You know Derek Hale right?" The question threw you off slightly, your family had been close with the Hale's before they'd all perished in the house fire six years ago, all except Derek- the prime suspect although you knew it couldn't have been him who set the house ablaze.
"Well, I knew him. He and Laura used to babysit me. I was friends with his younger sister too, back in elementary school." You answered Stiles' question, "Why?"
"Did he seem murder-y to you?" Stiles asked, ignoring your question while Scott let out a tired sigh at his best friend's antics. "No. He was sweet, they all were." You told him sternly, growing tired of his questions about people you would've considered your second family until the vast majority of them burned alive.
Scott's voice was softer than Stiles' when he leaned towards you, "He's uh back in town. We saw him at the Hale house yesterday. We were just wondering if you knew why he was here?"
"Derek's in town?" You asked, eyes wide while Scott nodded in response, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of answer to his previous question. "I didn't even know he was back." Your voice was merely a murmur, you tried your best to digest this new information but all you could think about was how you needed to see him.
"If you're looking for him, I'll help you find him." You offered to the two boys who shared unsure looks causing you to release a sigh, "Come on you two, out of the three of us I'm the only one whose gonna get any answers out of him. He's not exactly welcoming to strangers."
The words left you flatly and the two of them knew you were right, "Yeah you're right. We're going to stop by the house again after school you could meet us there?" Scott agreed, furrowing his brows as he watched you shake your head and scribble something down on the corner of your page, ripping it off, "I've got plans with Isaac after school today but I'll ask my parents if they know anything, they were really close with the Hale's." You explained, handing the scrap of paper with your phone number on it to Scott, "Give me your numbers so I can call you if I find out anything useful." Scott nodded gratefully, scribbling down his number on the side of his page the same way you had while Stiles just looked at you with a funny expression on his face, "Don't you hang out with Isaac like every day? Can't you just ditch him this once?" You let out a humorless chuckle, raising an eyebrow at the boy, "Would you ditch Scott?"
Stiles grumbled something under his breath, finally seating himself back in his seat properly, defeated by your retort.
Stiles wasn't wrong, you did hang out with Isaac almost every day but you'd never once ditched him just as he never ditched you, you weren't going to change that for the sake of two boys that you barely knew.
You'd met Isaac during a dark period of your life, when the Hale fire happened and all the people you'd been raised around suddenly disappeared from your life, he'd been exactly what you needed and he continued to be that person who always made you feel like there was always something to hope for even if everything looked grim.
He was the living embodiment of surviving hardships, and although he'd never realize it, he was the reason you were able to pull yourself out of slumps and keep pushing forward even when you felt like the weight of the world was crushing your chest. One smile or word of encouragement from Isaac and all that weight would evaporate into nothing.
As the bell rang you wanted nothing more than to find the boy who occupied your thoughts and tell him about the information you'd just been given, you definitely needed a pick me up after finding out Derek was back in town and you hadn't even seen him.
So you set off, giving Scott a small smile before exiting the classroom and making your way into the busy hallway, starting your search for Isaac the second you entered the crowd.
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The Next Life : Napoleon Bonaparte
GUESS WHO JUST RECENTLY FINISHED NAPOLEON’S ROUTE? and what do i have to do with the dramatic and promising information given to me? make everyone suffer, that’s what.
if you thought my comte angst hurt... well, that was soft compared to what i usually write~
so my brain cooked up a lil something for everyone and if you haven’t figured it out yet i hate the holidays yet, well you’re about to and possibly hate me too lol.
SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE AND HERE’S A LIL ANGST JUST FOR YOU LOVELY DARLINGS ♡
↪ GUIDELINES
✒ tags : reader-insert, female reader, angsty af, direct quotes from napoleon’s route, sort of a happy ending?
✒ warnings : major character death, loss & grief
✒ word count : 2729
The letter in your hand trembled, a frantic and uneasy motion that your body took as your anxiety rose. Your eyes fixed on the parchment, carefully folded and sealed, a seal you did not want to break.
Disbelief still swam through you. It took hold of every part of your being, it wrapped its hands around your heart and clouded your mind. Both refused to accept the facts presented to you, to acknowledge this was not a bad dream but the waking nightmare that had become your life. But it could not have been real, you did not want it to be, you refused to let it be.
Yet days had passed.
The signs, or lack thereof, all pointed to one end.
Napoleon was dead.
Even the inhabitants of the mansion knew it, that everything that had happened and the inability to find so much of a sign of their friend… even a vampire could not have survived.
Still, you stubbornly refused to accept it to drown in the pain and sorrow that wanted to pull you under.
So after three days of holding up in your room, of crying yourself to sleep, desperately trying to convince yourself he would walk through those doors at any moment, you finally returned to the land of the living. You, yourself, felt anything but alive though because some part of you had been stolen and left a gaping hole in your chest.
That was when Sebastian had come to you, or more specifically, given you something when you came to him for work.
You wanted a distraction, something to busy your mind and hands because your mind and heart both assured you, any moment, he would come through the mansion’s grand doors and sweet you into his arms.
The letter in your trembling fingers chipped away at that hope. The sinking feeling in your gut grew, consuming you, making your senses swim and swirl as you grew nauseous.
Your name, written ever so eloquently, was the only thing that gave a sign to what or who this letter was for.
Your head was spinning, the kitchen floor swayed underneath your feet but you swore your body was rooted in place. Yet the room rocked, trying to get you to stumble, to fall and the pit in your gut was only made worse.
Denial.
That was what you were told, that you were in denial.
And this letter in your hand, the last thing your beloved left for you, was chipping away at the walls you had so quickly built— the walls of denial to defend yourself against the shock and pain of the truth.
You ran.
You ran straight from the kitchen and into the hall. Your feet moved on their own volition, your body following as you allowed yourself to be led away with only one thought— away.
There was no saying why, but it was as if you believed you could outrun the thoughts, the truth, that if you fled then that feeling of sinking and being consumed would be left behind.
Into the foyer you rushed, stumbling down the stairs and straight into someone.
Your body collided against his. Hands found their way to your arms, bracing you from a fall. Your head lifted instinctively, panicked and wide eyes finding a single violet one gazing down at you. An unusual note of concern shifting the usually stoic expression of his.
If you had been in any other state, you would have found it strange to see Jean about and in the mansion at this time, but you had hardly noticed him.
Jean’s lips were moving but the blood rushing through your skull drowned out his voice. The beat of your heart echoed like a low drum as it hammered against your ribcage, begging to be let out, to be stopped, to be in any place or state but where it was now.
You shoved out of the arms that held you up and your legs stumbled beneath you as they lost the support that had been holding you up.
The action surprised Jean as you turned and took off in another direction, like a frightened hare trying to outrun a hungry fox.
Again your body followed your feet in their path to escape, encouraged by the desperate plea of your mind to just getaway. You wanted—no, needed— to be anywhere, somewhere else so long as it was not here.
And you did just that.
Into the garden, you went, deeper and deeper until everything around you was unfamiliar to your frantic mind. Finally, in the safety of solitude, your legs gave way beneath your weight and you collapsed. The path scraped your knees as you fell, catching yourself on your hands just before you hit.
A ragged breath passed through your lips, greedily searching for the breath your lungs were denied. Tears gathered in your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to cry now, not now.
There was no silence to settle over you, just the pleasant sounds of songbirds and chitter of insects. It was enough to ground you, to pull you from the cage your mind tried to build, and lift your head.
Your senses returned to you and suddenly the letter, still held tightly in your shaking fingers, was made aware again.
Your eyes fell to it, following the delicate flow of your name with penmanship you had just begun to recognize. Slowly, you turned it over in your hand, tracing the outline of the wax pressed to the fold, the only thing that kept the contents hidden from you.
You took a deep breath as you slid a finger beneath the edge of the parchment and pulled up.
With a snap, the letter opened.
My dearest…
Your mouth twitched with a broken smile at the sight of your name. The ghost of a memory whispering in your ear, the sounds of his voice as he called to you.
If you are reading this letter, then most likely, I am no longer at your side…
Those words brought a fresh wave of emotion and your eyes began to cloud with tears. You forced yourself to stay focused though, to continue reading because you needed to.
Are you crying while you read this?…
You wanted to laugh and scream. He knew— he knew— the decision he would make would end with him dead and yet made it anyway, claiming it was for both your mutual happiness.
The bastard.
The lovable, charming, charismatic, sweet bastard.
How dare he be sorry, how dare he call you strong and say that he was worried for you still. To say that he had stalled or stopped your life and regret it, it hurt you to think he had thought you did not love him with every fiber of your being even now.
Who had given him the right to make the decision and tear himself away from you? Who had given him the right to take your heart with him and leave you broken?
You wanted to be angry, so unbelievably angry at him to dare write with loving concern when he knew what would become of you after he left. Yet you could not find it in yourself to yell, to even let a whimper slip from your lips.
Your eyes trailed further down the page, sniffling and brushing your face to hide the evidence of tears that began to sneak down your cheeks.
Then you saw it.
…return to your own time…
You reared your head up and pressed your fist to your mouth. Teeth clamped down on the soft flesh of our fingers, holding tight as you fought back a heart-wrenching sob.
The question of why he had to be so kind yet so cruel was trapped in your throat. Only a pitiful sound escaped your tongue, not even the semblance of what it should have been— his name.
You tried to compose yourself, to force down the storm that wanted to break free from your chest and leave you in shambles, if just to finish the letter before you fell apart.
Once more, your eyes fell down to the letter, unsteady in trembling hands.
And forget about this place, if you can. Forgetting isn’t a sin. I will remember this time for you. Always…
There was no chance you could forget even if you tried, even if you wanted to. You would never be able to forget the feeling of happiness in your chest and the warmth that would envelop you at the sight of him. The smile of his that would make your heart race excitedly or the sweet kisses he would press with a feather-soft touch all over you.
You would never forget him. The memories of him were far too precious, even with the pain that broke your heart now, you would never want them erased.
My heart will remain one with yours…
And your heart would forever be his.
You said you would love me no matter how much I changed. You said you would recognize me and fall in love with me still…
Tears dripped on the page— when had you started to cry?
Do you remember that?…
More tears cascaded down your chin as you nodded slowly. With each drop, the parchment would dampen with your sorrow and the ink began to blur and bleed together.
This was unfair, even now he was too sweet, but the love that swelled in you tangled with your pain.
Even if I am reborn, I will find you and fall in love with you again…
“You better,” Your voice came out quiet and broken by a sob.
You would hold him to that, it was a promise, it had to be. You wanted it to be a promise, to be true, that one day he would come back to you.
Adieu. Je t’aime…
You wanted to say it back, to let the ‘I love you’ fall from your lips countless times so that he heard you from wherever he was now. Yet your voice never came out, your breath barely returned to you. The farewell you knew you needed to whisper was lost on your tongue.
Though we could not be together in this life… I swear I will see you in my next…
You wished it did not have to be the next life. You wanted this life, you wanted this moment, you wanted him. You wanted to be able to wrap your arms around him now, to press your lips against his, to feel the warmth of his skin and hear the beating of his heart in his chest.
But you could not.
Not in this life.
Only the next.
A wail tore from your throat. The letter in your hand was clenched tight around the letter, further blemishing it with wrinkles and splotches of tears. You curled in on yourself, to protect what little of yourself you had that had not shattered yet.
“Why do you have to break my heart a second time?”
Broken sounds escaped from your lips as your body trembled with the sobs that wracked through it.
Fate had been unfair. Fate had torn you away from your blissful ignorance and thrust you into a world so unfamiliar and frightening. To give you a knight that had come to your rescue and sweep you away to protect you from harm. Only to find he had unknowingly stolen your heart. It had been such a lovely gift of fate, such a surprise, but suddenly you found your life so much fuller.
Then fate twisted and stole from you, taking with the other hand that which it had offered. So cruelly, the happiness of your life was snatched away from you. Fate laughed in your face, taunting your consciousness, for you could never return to your ignorance now.
You had not even been given the chance to say goodbye.
All you were given was a fleeting touch as he slipped between your fingers and a letter of love and regret.
How you hated Napoleon for it.
But how you loved him far more.
So you sat in the garden, huddled over on yourself as you balled, allowing the pain and anger to drag you under for the first time.
And there you stayed, allowing yourself to drown in grief because Napoleon was gone.
Napoleon was dead.
—————
On a weather-worn bench, you sat underneath a slumbering tree. Snow adorned its branches like clumps of white, shimmering leaves. The wind drifted through the stems, catching the frozen water to flurry down from its perch.
You bundled your soft scarf around your throat and further snuggled into your thick coat.
It was cold but not unbearably so if you were dressed right and especially not if you were a child running amok on the playground.
A small smile stretched over your lips, eyes trailing after one of the small children— your small child specifically.
A pair of jade eyes found your own from the distance and you were met with a suddenly serious stare as your daughter stopped. Then she smiled at you, the biggest, cutest, toothless grin she could manage as she threw her hands in the air and ran towards you.
“Mama, Mama!” She called out to you. A small ‘oof’ escaped you both as she collided into your chest, wrapping her small arms around you as best she could.
“Are you ready to go now?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around her. One of your hands found its way to her hair, combing through the soft locks.
She nodded her head vigorously.
“Uh-huh! Can we go get hot cocoa now?”
You could not resist the sweetest tone and the pleading expression she gave you. Those big, jade eyes were a weakness of yours…
“How could I say no, Jade?” You stood up and your daughter put her hand in your own.
“And how about a cookie too?” Jade gave you a grin, a devious one at that.
“I don’t know…” You mused, looking back up to the street as you began your walk back home.
All sorts of signs were lit bright, signaling the shops that you passed were open and welcomed business. People flitted across the street, up and down the sidewalks, bustling in their own personal worlds as they went about. The sounds of chatter filled the air, almost drowned by the busy noise of the streets as cars zipped by.
The sweet scent of baked goods ladened the air, laced with the bitterness of freshly brewed coffee. The cool crisp air nipped at your face as the wind seemed to gust by. Your hand tightened instinctively around your daughter’s own.
She seemed not to notice and swung your joined arms back and forth.
Your eyes fell down to her. The wind teased her midnight hair, lifting it away from her ruddy cheeks.
Once more a smile came to your lips as your eyes lifted back up.
From across the road, a pair of jade eyes met yours.
Your breath was stolen by the wind.
The ghost of a man who had long since passed stared back at you.
Your heart leapt for joy and fell apart at once. The urge to scream, to cry, to laugh all at once was overwhelming yet you did nothing, frozen in place out of fear this was all another dream.
You dared not even blink lest he disappeared.
So you stared, stared long passed when the light changed to allow you to walk safely across.
“...Mama?” Jade's voice broke through your trance.
Your eyes darted down to her, wide and bewildered.
“Are you okay?” Her sweet face twisted with concern for you, “Did you see someone?”
Your heart clenched as guilt washed over you. She was far too kind, far too sweet— just like her father— and to cause her worry was something you never wanted to do.
It was only a memory, after all.
“Sorry, I thought… I thought I saw someone, someone from a long time ago,” You smiled sweetly down at her, “How about those cookies and hot cocoa now, hm?” You tugged her hand lightly as you lifted your head.
There were those same gentle eyes, the same man who had stolen your heart, staring back at you.
And he smiled.
#HAPPY HOLIDAYS HERE'S THE ANGST#all aboard the angst train#i'm here to bring the hurt#Ikemen Vampire#ikemen series#ikevamp#ikemen vampire napoleon#ikevamp napoleon#Napoleon Bonaparte#ikemen vampire x reader#napoleon x reader#ikevamp angst#hurt fic#angst fic#x reader#ikevamp fanfic#ikevamp fic
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2020 fic roundup
howdy pardners 🤠🤠 in order to procrastinate more writing here’s my list of all the fics i posted this year (sorted predominantly by ship and mostly in order of posting) - ft a lot of dabihawks and a surprising amount of todobaku lmao. oh and my personal faves are **starred
dabihawks (x)
a lesson in romantics (x) - 66k across 4 fics - the collection of standalone memory loss fics! canon divergent and centered around either dabi or hawks losing their memories thanks to the wonderful commission :) some solid angst and getting back together content, always happy endings!!
haven’t had enough (x) - 5.7k - silly little quirkless au where dabi goes to claire’s to get his ears pierced. multiple times. bc hawks is hot
last of the real ones (x) - 2.6k - less silly, just as little, set in canon-divergence bc i couldn’t get the idea out of my head of dabi getting red wings tattooed on him before ever meeting hawks
**dancing after death (x) - 25k - one of my faves from this year, a canon divergent sort of getting together story involving nightmares, some bad burns, and a bit of dancing
if you fall (hold my hand) (x) - 7.4k - canon divergence (bc apparently i’m a slut for that) and some hurt/comfort, ft a bit of makeout-level spice
no shame (x) - 16k - ah, and here we really dive into the ‘crack treated too seriously’ category, where the league sells feet/hand/misc kink pics to fund their activities and dabi has some photography skills and a wing kink (or maybe just a hawks kink)
broken parts (x) - 23.9k - i stole my own idea for a vigilante!hawks from my tiktok, then twisted it into a severely angsty (with a happy ending) hurt/comfort fic intended to break my own heart and piece it back together. it worked
freeing icarus (x) - 1.8k - the first fic without a happy ending i think i ever wrote, because the canon dabihawks fight actually broke me. some dabi introspection
**to the stars that burn (x) - 3.9k - the second fic without a happy ending, based more around childhood friends dabihawks working at the commission together. bittersweet but without much sweet
**king of disaster (x) - 119k+ - i poured my entire soul into this series, a fantasy au where dabi accidentally binds himself to hawks (an absolute stranger) and shenanigans ensue - this has also evolved to include todobaku, shinkami, and kirideku
enemy of my enemy (x) - 2.6k - a quirkswap space pirate au that truly tested my ability to write action scenes, part of the random prompt collection i did during october 2020
without a fight (x) - 2.2k - a rival band au ft singer!hawks and a grumpy dabi, another of the random october prompts
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todobaku (x)
like i’m bakugou (x) - 2.1k - it was supposed to be a MEME based on a TIKTOK but i made it kinda serious....and here we are. todobaku on a froyo date
take a bite of my heart tonight (x) - 5k - VAMPIRES lmao. honestly it was a blast to write tho lmao
**if we go down, then we go down together (x) - 9.3k - tdbk get stranded on a deserted island bc tropes are fun lmao. also todo tries to freeze the ocean like elsa which i think is where my writing skill peaked
cold rebellion (x) - 4k - quirkless au where its HALLOWEEN and theyre in a CORN MAZE and they don’t LIKE EACH OTHER BAKA (part of the october prompt fic collection)
make it spicy (x) - 5k+ - predominantly todobaku with a healthy dose of dabihawks and some shiggynatsu as well, a bakery and nightclub au (yes u heard me)
**stitch me up (x) - 35k - todo gets split into both halves of his quirks, sort of, and baku has to deal with it (and i love this au so much i had a blast working on it)
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bakudeku
rescue me (x) - 11.4k - basically the concept of ‘what if baku and deku were actually childhood friends tho? aka some good wholesome content
**into the dark (x) - 3.3k - afterlife au and originally part of the random prompts, baku didn’t survive the sludge villain incident and deku’s been carrying that weight for a while. and then he doesn’t survive a villain encounter...keep an eye on this one cause i’m working on a part 2 lmao
are you with me (x) - 2.1k - future fic where baku and deku are both heroes and, appropriately, the wonder duo. lil angsty but ofc a happy ending, part of the random oct prompts collection
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todobakudeku (x)
**kintsugi (x) - 117k - future fic where they’re all UA teachers, with some established todobaku + todobakudeku getting together, a lil sprinkle of erasercloudmic, a nice dose of shinkami and some great shiggy redemption arc + eri attending UA content
reunion (x) - 1.8k - another future fic lmao with some getting-back-together content. part of the random october prompts collection
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kiribaku (x)
rewrite the stars (x) - 2.8k - also a mina&kiri friendship fic, a soulmate au where kiri doesn’t get the soulmate he was hoping for (part of the oct prompts collection)
the mystery gang (x) - 4.1k - tell me how i wrote this much about a scooby doo-styled fic concept lmao. anyway, part of the oct prompts, includes some bakusquad shenanigans
wasteland, baby (x) - 4.5k - bakusquad bodyswap post-apocalyptic au and yes it’s just as chaotic as it sounds lmao. part of the oct prompts collection
like the sun (x) - 2.8k - the beach episode + baku&mei friendship (which i learned is called kat and the hat???? adorable) fluffy content, part of the oct prompts collection!
something sweet (x) - 1.2k - the actual kiribaku prompt i got lmao. coffee shop meets scavenger hunt, we adore a grumpy barista baku lmao. part of the oct prompts collection
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todokami/todo&kami
oh, worm? (x) - 16.5k - it was supposed to be a joke but oh my god i love the idea of both todo and denki being memelords and falling in love with each other over it
secret tunnel (x) - 3.6k - conspiracy theorist todo meets conspiracy theorist denki in college au format and it’s really just top tier content imo - part of the oct prompt collection
all i want for christmas (x) - 3.5k - it was supposed to be a crack concept but as per usual it became less cracky the longer i thought about it. todokami fake dating babeyyyy - part of the oct prompt collection
**hydrangea (x) - 2.9k - soft todo introspection about his lil dragon hoard of things that make him think of his friends, which he decides to share with denki
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shiggynatsu (x)
**death of summer (x) - 28k - the first fic i ever wrote for them and the most chaotic meeting i could come up with within the realm of canon divergence lmao. todofam hosting...shmigaraki
terrible people (x) - 960 - a lil babie established shiggynatsu fic about shiggy’s bday, basically just soft and wholesome - part of the oct prompt collection
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shinkami (x)
don’t want to say goodnight (x) - 3.2k - kyouka pov on a shinkami getting together lil thing that lived in my brain rent free for a long time
don’t want to say goodnight (x) - 1k - yes i’m aware i see what i’ve done lmao i see the mistake i made. anyway this one is villain!shinsou and villain!denki so it’s like,,,,,the slightly spicier version. part of the oct prompt collection
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other
**twelve over, seven up (x) - 4.5k - a bit of aizawa introspection after oboro’s death, bittersweet but mostly wholesome
a danger and a wonder (x) - 2.4k - mina&tokoyami friendship and bonding over mina’s kid and hawks’ kid (who tokoyami is babysitting) - part of the oct prompt collection
fish and feathers (x) - 4.1k - my chance to flex my remaining runescape knowledge to have jirou and denki friendship via the interwebs content
a name freely given (x) - 4.2k - shigadabi fake dating royalty au where shiggy’s fae? sure why not lmaoooo. part of the oct prompt collection
kabloom flower shop (x) - 2.8k - a wrong-number tattoo shop/flower shop kirikami au that was lowkey hilariously fun to write. part of the oct prompt collection
awake me from my nightmare (x) - 2.3k - the only fic i’ve ever tagged with mcd, an among us au of all things. baku&uraraka friendship and betrayal, part of the oct prompt collection
**for the record (x) - 2.1k - shiggy&dabi...allianceship? sort of? lmao they’re angel and demon, spies, and part of like a rebellion thing. and they don’t like each other which is always fun! part of the oct prompt collection
a different kind of hero (x) - 1.1k - established tododeku future fic where todo just got his quirk stolen (and deku already lost his in an afo fight), mostly bitter with just a tiny spark of hopefulness. part of the oct prompt collection
forget me not (x) - 2.1k - kiri&uraraka friendship, amnesia and artist au like i really went off here but it was so sweet and wholesome and i had a great time. part of the oct prompt collection
**lightning in a bottle (x) - 4.5k - chaotic kamibaku getting together but they’re WITCHES it’s a MAGIC AU and BEDSHARING IS A THING. part of the oct prompt collection
passing notes (x) - 1.6k - shiggy&eri friendship which is a thing that would be hilarious if it happened in canon tbh. part of the oct prompt collection
no turning back (x) - 6.5k - shiggy&deku friendship but make it royalty au and a 5/1 trope just for kicks lmao. part of the oct prompt collection
worthy adversary (x) - 1k - baku&shinsou friendship/childhood friends au that deserved more than 1k lmao. part of the oct prompt collection
together (x) - 3.2k - denki&mina friendship but they’re allied with vampires to fight some werewolves bc why not right? also lil taste of shinkami just like tiny bit for the flavor™. i should really do a bit more with this au huh? part of the oct prompt collection
a good thing (x) - 1.2k - shinsou&aizawa friendship? fathership? sonship? u know how it is lmao. a little sprinkle of shinkami for the flavor. part of the oct prompt collection
brighter than the sun (x) - 730 - can u tell i don’t usually write miritama lmao. some soft parallels bc they are soft. part of the oct prompt collection
try again (x) - 1.4k - dabi&shouto siblingship but dabi can time travel bc i said so (actually bc the prompts said so but whatever lmao) part of the oct prompt collection
that’s it lovelies!! nearly 600k this year and some of my favorite fics i’ve ever written, and i cannot begin to thank you all enough for your incredible support, i adore you all so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺
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Snowman
Day 15 of @remus-john-lupin holiday prompt list. This one is sad and angsty :(
TW: death, loss of a loved one, first Christmas without a loved one, brief mention of alcohol abuse.
The sun was warm in the sky, and Remus’ body was warm in his arms as they cuddled atop the picnic blanket. Seagulls flew over their heads with wings spread against the wind as they called to each other. Some landed on the sand just a few feet from the couple and fed off of the bread and vegetable scraps Sirius had thrown to them earlier. The moment was paradise. Sirius’ vision was hazy for some reason, but it was perfect nonetheless.
Remus laughed when Sirius leaned down to whisper in his ear, though Sirius couldn’t remember what he said. Probably some dumb joke about the guy they had met at the market earlier, or about something stupid James had done that morning. Whatever Sirius did say, though, didn’t matter as much as Remus’ laugh ringing from his lips like a bell. That laugh that made Sirius feel like he was home.
“I love you.” Sirius said, leaning back so he could make eye contact with his fiancé. He expected the words to be returned, or to get a kiss. Instead, Remus’ eyes turned sad.
“I love you too baby.” Remus whispered, hands moving to cup his chin. Sirius was baffled as to why he couldn’t feel the warmth of Remus’ hands on his face. “But you need to let me go now.”
Sirius furrowed his brow, looking at Remus like he had grown a second nose. “What are you talking about, Rem?”
Remus sighed, his eyes looking pained and sad, though it didn’t stop him from slowly fading away. Sirius tried to hold on tighter. “Rem what’s going on?”
Remus leaned in then, kissing Sirius on the lips even though it lacked its usual warmth. Sirius closed his eyes anyway, confused but still in love with these moments. When the lips pulled away, Sirius kept his eyes closed and smiled to himself.
“I miss you. So much.”
Sirius tried to laugh, thinking it was a joke.
“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”
Though when Sirius opened his eyes, he wasn’t on a beach with Remus, basking in the warm summer sun that would put a tan line on each of their ring fingers. No, Sirius was home in bed and Remus was gone. He had been for 4 months.
This part was always hell. Sirius dreamed about Remus every night, whether it was a memory of one of their old dates, or they time they got engaged. Once, he had dreamt of the wedding that never happened. When Sirius woke up after that one, he didn’t get out of bed for six days. Every dream ended the same way. Sirius told Remus he loved him, and Remus begged Sirius to let him go.
The crying always came next. Sirius would lay numb in their bed, staring at Remus’ cold pillow as tears ran from his eyes. His face and body lay motionless, letting the salt water wet his pillow until there was no more to let out. Sirius did the same thing every morning for the past four months and it still didn’t get easier.
James came by most days. At first it was to force Sirius to actually eat something and then force a cup of water, or really, anything that wasn’t alcohol down Sirius’ throat. Now though, James came by so they could both grieve together. And it hasn’t been any easier since the first week. They didn’t always say anything. Sometimes they sat on the couch and held each other while they cried, sometimes they were both too numb to do anything but sit and stare at the floor. Still, it was a comfort when James came by. He always knew what Sirius needed.
The knock on the door got Sirius to stand up, forcefully tearing his gaze from the empty pillow on the other side of the bed. Sirius didn’t know if it still smelled like Remus or if it was just his mind making up things to help him cope. There was no need to get dressed, since Sirius was still in the same sweats and sweatshirt as yesterday. The knocking got more insistent.
Sirius shuffled through the house and opened the door to see James carrying a box with him. One that was wrapped in white and gold paper.
“Hey.” James said.
“Hey.”
Sirius moved to let James in, who walked past to set the box down next to the couch and then was back out the door before it could shut. Lily came in next, carrying two small gifts stacked on top of each other, and then she, too, went back out the door without a word. Sirius watched silently from the sidelines, his bestfriends going back and forth from the couch and back out the door. Each time they brought more boxes wrapped in colorful paper.
“What’s going on?” Sirius finally asked, as James and Lily settled themselves on the couch and started sorting the boxes into three separate piles.
“Well you didn’t think we’d let you spend Christmas by yourself, did you?” Lily asked, throwing a tiny box wrapped in green paper onto the beanbag by the fireplace.
Sirius was genuinely confused.
“It’s Christmas?”
He didn’t miss the look James and Lily shared, and equal mix of concern and sorrow. They spared him a smile before they went back to their sorting.
“I think so?” James joked. “December 25th, right? Usually the day most folks sit under the tree and exchange gifts.”
Sirius watched them for a minute more, wondering if they were taking the mickey. “I haven’t got a tree.”
Lily huffed, mumbling a sarcastic we know, thanks while James moved to the kitchen to grab some hot chocolate for the three of them. Lily turned to face him then, holding her arms out for him. Sirius crashed into them like they were a lifeline.
“Merry Christmas, pads.” Lily whispered into his ear, and Sirius started to sob.
“Lil- Lily, I- I didn- didn’t know it was Christmas. I didn’t get you guys anything.” The words had a hard time getting out through his broken sobs, but Lily didn’t need to hear them anyway. Instead, she stroked his hair and tried her best to shush him.
“We know, love. It’s okay. You don’t need to do anything, it’s okay.”
Sirius sobbed into her shirt, letting himself be held and comforted. He didn’t know how long he had been there, but when he finally sat up, James was holding a warm mug of cocoa out to him with a small smile on his face. There was no judgement from his bestfriends. Just love. And a shared feeling of emptiness.
They sat on the couch in silence, taking occasional sips of hot chocolate. There was no rush for him to do anything, no rush to get to presents or make breakfast. There was just a quiet moment with people who knew almost exactly how he felt.
“This is our first Christmas without him.” Sirius thought, staring into the pool of dark brown in his mug. The same color as Remus’ eyes. He realized he might have actually said it when he felt Lily shaking beside him.
“We know, sweetheart.” Her voice was shaking as bad as she was, though she still smiled when he looked at her. “But we have something for you, we’re hoping it will help fix that.”
James set his empty mug down on the coffee table to get one of the boxes that was sitting next to the fireplace. It was confirmed as Sirius’ Christmas pile when James set it on his lap.
“Go on.” James said. Sirius looked at him with confusion, but decided to do as he said. He looked down at the box to see it was the one with white and gold wrapping paper and a silver bow on top. Sirius moved it off carefully.
He was confused to find a plain brown box underneath it all, but James and Lily just smiled encouragingly. Sirius unfolded the flaps on top and saw a smiling snowman staring up at him. He noticed the color of the eyes first, right before the forest green sweater came into view. It was definitely something Remus would have put up for a Christmas decoration. Everything about this stuffed little snowman reminded him of Remus.
“We customized the sweater. Made it to look exactly like Remus’ favorite one.” Lily explained, and then she pointed to the gloved hand of the snowman that held the words “squeeze me”.
Sirius felt the tears coming again, knowing and wanting what the press of the button would give him. He needed to hear Remus’ voice today. He needed Remus here with him, in anyway he can. Sirius squeezed it.
Hey, Sirius. Remus’ voice came from the snowman. He sounded like he was smiling.
I just saw a dog on the street, he reminded me of you. He came up and sniffed at the flowers I was holding and barked. I think he was telling me he approves of your surprise gift. Oh, shit, I guess it’s not a surprise anymore. Oops. Anyways, I called to say that I sent out the invitations today. Made me smile like a fucking goon, but it was worth all the funny looks I got. Nobody can judge me for being happy when I get to marry you in two months. I’m patiently waiting to spend forever with you, baby. I love you.
Sirius thought he had nothing left to cry, but that was Remus’ voice he just listened to. Remus’ voice, which he hadn’t heard in four months except for the times he called Remus’ phone and prayed for him to pick up. He always got his voicemail instead. Remus’ voice, telling Sirius he loved him, telling him he wanted to spend forever with him, telling him how he got so fucking happy about sending out their wedding invites. Remus’ voice.
Sirius squeezed the Snowman’s hand again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
James and Lily moved in closer, holding him as they all listened to Remus. His voice filled the living room, and if he closed his eyes, it was like he was there with them.
Remus is here. Remus loves him and Remus is here. Everything was going to be okay.
#harry potter#hogwarts#remus lupin#sirius black#wolfstar#jily#james potter#lily evans#mwpp#aesthetic#wolfstar holiday 2020#snowman#christmas fic#angst#fluff#barely
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something wretched about this (something so precious about this)- A Vera x Hamish Fic
Alternatively called Caught: A Vera x Hamish Fic
A/N: Sorry it took a while but I finally finished a prompt! This ended up bringing two prompts in one so hopefully that’s okay. Also it got way longer than I expected. Hopefully it turned out okay.
Prompts: Hamish and Vera (madly but like subtly (or not) in love- from @upsetpizzaaaa
Everyone walks in on Hamish and Vera- from @nerdgenie:
Warning: It starts a little angsty but then gets more lighthearted.
Enjoy :)
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They really needed to stop doing this. Meaning, that he and Vera needed to stop having sex in her office, not that they needed to stop having sex in general. They had way too many close calls for comfort and even though everyone practically already knew, both of them had agreed to keep their...relationship private. So they really needed to stop doing it in a place where anyone could just waltz right in while they were in a...compromising position. Though they also frequented both her place and his apartment, those were more for when they had made plans in advance and/or wanted to stay the night. The reliquary was more...convenient since both Vera and even Hamish for the past few months spent more time at the temple than anywhere else. Often either dealing with the latest Order business or researching the current threat against them all. Even though after the breaches stopped where they ended up spending more time at the other’s places, more often than not they still found themselves having stolen moments in her office. Usually it was either after another failed attempt of getting Vera’s magic back or when seeing the beautiful bar in the temple’s lounge became too tempting for Hamish and his sobriety.
This time it was a little mix between the two.
Vera had started to close in on herself after the latest spell they had tried to get her powers back also didn’t work. She had looked so...broken. Definitely not like the powerful woman, with or without magic, whom Hamish had grown to care for way too quickly for his liking. Yet, at the same time, he knew the significance of her showing him such open vulnerability and selfishly relished in it. He relished in the fact that Vera was opening up to him, showing the sides to her that she deemed “weak”, not in the fact that she was hurting in a way that he couldn’t seem to help.
It reminded Hamish too much of Cassie. Of the times where the hunt to stop bad magic got too much, dealing with yet another loss pack member because of it. To anyone else, she was a poised pack leader, ready to fight for their cause no matter the cost. To him, he saw much, much more than that. In retrospect, that was probably one of the many reasons why he was so drawn to Vera in the first place, even when she was the enemy. Apparently his type was older strong, powerful women leaders who often felt like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders but didn’t show it. It was moments like those, where Vera looked so lost without her magic like she was about to give up, where the reminders of Cassie got too much for Hamish and all he wanted was to go to the lounge’s bar and get himself lost in all of his favorite cocktails.
Only he didn’t.
Instead, Hamish had followed Vera into her office before closing the door behind them with the snap of his fingers and watched as she sunk into her chair, her eyes looking into empty nothingness. He had ended up kneeling down in front of her and gently touched her cheek, making her turn to catch his gaze. Instead of recoiling away like she had the first time he tried to comfort her, she sunk further into his touch.
“Listen to me.” He had fiercely told her. “You are still a powerful and terrifying woman, with or without your magic.”
A small smile had appeared on her face and shone brightly in her eyes at his words. She had then turned away from his grasp, leaving his arm to fall on his side, and cleared her throat. “Even if that may be. The council is going to find out sooner or later. And when they do...” Vera hadn’t finished her sentence, but she didn’t have to.
They wouldn’t allow her to be the Grand Magus, or even to still be a part of the Order of The Blue for that matter. The least damage they would do would be erasing her memories of her entire life in the Order, like she had done with him and the rest of the Knights. However, he knew that in the Order’s eyes, Vera had been very lenient on them when she had done it. If most or even some of the council members were like Kepler, then they’d might want to kill Vera and be done with it, not wanting to risk someone with that much information on the Order to get in the wrong hands.
“Hey,” Hamish had said, taking her hand within his, “look at me.”
Normally Vera would scold him for telling her, the Grand Magus, what to do. Instead, she had turned to look at him again with an annoyed expression on her face that didn’t hide the sadness and fear in her eyes. “What?”
“I’m not going to let that happen.”
She gave him an incredulous look, “Oh really? How do you manage to do that? We’re nowhere close to finding a way to get my magic back and you can only use magic for me to stay face for too long.”
“Well, I think my acting has improved.” He teased to which she rolled her eyes. Hamish then placed his free hand on her cheek again, and began to say in a more serious tone, “I’ll make sure no one finds out even if it’s the last thing I do. And we will find a way to get your magic back. Mark my words.”
Her eyes shone with such emotion that he had the pleasure of being one of the few people to witness. “Why do you care so much? Why would you risk everything for me?”
Hamish gave her a small smile that hopefully told her everything that he couldn’t fully say yet. He then took her hand that he had still been holding and lifted it up towards him before placing his lips against her soft skin. He put all of the feelings that he had felt for her as much as he possibly could in that one kiss. At her barely audible gasp of pleasure, Hamish tilted his head to meet her gaze. “I think you know why.”
And just like that, their mouths and bodies had swiftly collided.
It usually would be rough and hungry with both of them exhilaratingly fighting for dominance, Tundra loving the push and pull as well. But then she’d eventually take over and he’d always happily oblige. Though this time had still been similar, it had been slower, both taking their time to discover each other’s bodies on top of her desk like it was their first time doing so. There were moments where it was still rough and hungry and then others where they were slow and tender, depending on which emotion they wanted to get out at the moment. Whether it was from their individual emotional turmoil or their feelings towards each other, they poured it all out.
Nothing else existed. Only Vera. And their bodies colliding together in perfect harmony and euphoria.
Usually Hamish would be able to get lost in the Grand Magus but be alert enough to use his keen wolf senses to detect if anyone was coming before it was too late. They had a little more close calls recently since he also had to use his magic to quickly make themselves and her office look unruffled. But they had always made it just in time before getting caught.
Only, this time their luck had finally run out.
Unlike those other times, Hamish had completely gotten so lost in Vera that even if he had heard someone coming or Tundra’s warnings, he hadn’t even noticed. Which was why when the doors flew open, they didn’t have any time to separate before the entire pack caught them in an extremely compromising position.
“Shit.” Hamish breathed out as both he and Vera quickly tore themselves from each other as he both heard Randall and Jack make two completely different kinds of noises of shock.
Vera then quickly grabbed the nearest piece of clothing and covered as much as she could before nudging his shoulder. He tore his gaze from the gaping mouths of his friends to catch her expectant look.
“Clothing spell.” The Grand Magus ordered him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it was, but Hamish was also used to being naked in front of his fellow knights and the thought didn’t occur to him as quickly as it would have if anyone else caught them.
But then once she gave him the command, it completely sunk in that they all had caught him naked with Vera. He then quickly spoke the incantation that put anything that they had messed up back in their places, including their clothes.
“I knew it!” Randall exclaimed, pointing his finger toward the pair both out of accusation and triumph. He then turned his attention to his fellow wolves. “You all owe me 50 bucks each.”
“We agreed to no such thing, Babe.” Gabrielle replied first, arm intertwined with his as she checked her nails on her other hand, not seeming to be phased by the current situation.
He gave her an incredulous look like she said that 2+2=5. “Uh, yeah we did.”
“No we didn’t.” Jack interjected, who had his hand covering his eyes and his back facing Hamish and Vera. “You said and I quote ‘I bet you 50 bucks that Hamish and Vera are doing it’. And I said ‘I’d rather turn myself into a tree again than find out’.”
“And I said that I didn’t give two flying shits.” Lilith chimed in. “I’m just glad that it seems like Hamish is having an active sex life again.”
“Thanks, Lil.” Hamish gave her a small tight smile, wanting to be anywhere but there. If they had caught him with anyone else, then he’d take their teasing in stride. But this was the Grand Magus. And Vera Stone, with or without the esteemed title, wasn’t like anyone else.
Gabrielle interrupted his thoughts with a bored sigh. “And I said that they are obviously screwing each other so I definitely wasn’t going to bet against you.” She then turned her attention toward Jack and rolled her eyes. “Jack, you can turn around now. They’re fully clothed.”
“I don’t wanna.” He huffed, reminding Hamish of a little kid.
Randall wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulder, “Come on, Dude. I thought you were way passed the whole ‘only-child-shy-around-naked-people’ thing?”
“It’s not that. I’d just rather not see Hamish and Vera all,” he visibly shuddered, “post sex and shit.”
The two in question turned to look at each other, both silently ready to end this little conversation about their personal sex life with the entire pack.
However, Randall responded to Jack before they could. “Ohhhh. I get it, Buddy. This is awkward for you because you see Vera like some weird hot mom figure. And no one wants to see their parental figure getting all hot and sweaty with their friend.”
“That is enough, Mr. Carpio.” Vera finally spoke up, using her ‘sexy Grand Magus in charge’ tone, as Hamish secretly liked to call it. She then as gracefully as possible, slid down off of her desk before straightening her clothes. The Grand Magus then stood behind her chair and clasped her hands together, looking as regal as ever. “I think we can all be civilized adults here. So can you please act like it and make sure this stays between us?”
“Oh, like a ‘what happens in the Reliquary stays in the Reliquary’ sorta thing?” Randall asked, making weird hand motions that Hamish for the life of him could not decipher.
Hamish then quickly got up from the desk as well. “Basically.” He nodded, folding his arms. “Can you all just please keep your mouth shut about this?”
The four knights looked at each other before turning their attention back to the pair and all nodded in unison. A certain sense of pride formed within him at the sight of his wolves making a decision together without any verbal communication and being so in sync.
“If you really want to keep whatever,” Lilith began to say then waved a lazy hand toward him and Vera before continuing, “this is. Then you really should stop screwing in a place where anyone can just waltz in and catch you two banging each other’s brains out.”
Hamish placed his hand on his head in exasperation as Vera cleared her throat. “Duly noted, Miss Bathory. Now can we all please move on from mine and Mr. Duke’s private relationship and focus on whatever it was you four came here to talk about?”
He straightened his stance, ready to focus on more Order and Knight business instead of his friends continuing to talk about his and Vera’s relationship.
Jack then raised his hand and Hamish could not help but be amused at the sight.
“Mr. Morton, this isn’t a classroom.” Vera told him, a slight soft tone of fondness laced in her voice.
Jack looked at his outreached hand and seemed to realize what he was doing before putting it down and saying, “Right. Sorry. I just have a question before we change the subject.”
Hamish and Vera both turned to look at each other for a moment, both deciding together if they should allow him to ask the question or just finally move on from this horrid conversation. They then both sighed, knowing that they were going to give in anyways.
Turning their attention back to Jack, the pair reluctantly nodded.
“Fine. Go ahead.” Hamish answered for them, bracing himself for whatever the question was.
“Just please try to be quick, Mr. Morton. This isn’t a high school bathroom where we dish on the latest gossip.”
“Not with that attitude it’s not.” Randall muttered under his breath, earning a glare from both the Grand Magus and Hamish.
“Well…” Jack timidly began to say then cleared his throat before continuing. “What exactly is going on between you two?”
Hamish immediately regretted his and Vera’s decision to allow him to ask the question, even though that was the most probable question for him to ask.
Jack continued. “I mean besides…” He then proceeded to awkwardly create an image with his hands that normally Hamish would’ve laughed at if it wasn’t about him and Vera.
Randall shook his head. “No, Dude you got it wrong. It was more like this.” He then proceeded to create his own, making Hamish groan in annoyance.
He was going to kill his friends.
“That’s enough!” Vera exclaimed, one hand on her hip and the other placed on her head in frustrated exasperation.
“Seriously, you two.” Hamish scolded them. He then relaxed himself and shrugged before continuing in a more casual tone, “Besides, it was more like a mix between the both of them.”
“Not helping.” She chided, giving him a deadly glare that made him gulp both out of fear and from being turned on. The Grand Magus then cleared her throat before turning her attention back toward the four knights, Jack in particular. “Mr. Morton, as I said, my and Hamish’s relationship is private. And we prefer it to be that way.”
It was not lost on him that she called him by his first name and not ‘Mr. Duke’. Which Vera usually would do in public as a guise to help make appearances look like she didn’t see him in a different way from anyone else. Sometimes, she’d call him ‘Mr. Duke’ in private but for completely different reasons. But that was beside the point.
Hamish then noticed Jack had been looking between him and Vera. “But it is a relationship? Not just...that?”
She opened her mouth to respond and he knew that she was probably going to reiterate that their relationship was private or even say something like ‘That’s none of your business Mr. Morton’. Instead, her mouth closed again before Vera turned to catch Hamish’s gaze. Her expression was filled with more emotion than she liked to show, especially in public. There was a vulnerability in it that he only saw when it was just the two of them. Her eyes searched within his, seeming to ask permission.
He then nodded and gave her a small yet tender smile. Before she could do anything else, however, he walked toward her before placing an arm around her back and waist. Vera gave him a small, genuine smile that he noticed was only reserved for him, and wrapped her own arm around his back as well.
She then turned her head back toward his four fellow knights. “Yes, we are indeed in a relationship.”
The four of them were uncharacteristically silent as they seemed to take the image in.
Randall became the first one to speak up, seeming to be the one that was more shocked that they were in an actual relationship. “So you two aren’t just angerly boinking each other because it’s kinda forbidden and hot?”
“No.” Hamish answered him with a wince. “And please never say the word ‘boinking’ ever again.”
“Or the term ‘weird hot mom figure’ while we’re at it.” Vera chimed in. She then lifted her free hand up and pointed a finger in the air. “In fact, consider those actual orders from your Grand Magus.”
Randall rolled his eyes. “Ugh, why do you always gotta ruin the fun?” Only, there wasn’t any malice in his voice like there would’ve been a month or so prior.
“With that out of the way,” Vera began to say, “do any of you have any more questions about us that we may or may not answer before we talk about actual Order business?” Vera asked them all in general. “Mr. Carpio?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I think for now I’ve had my fill of the Adventures of Hameo and Veriet.”
Hamish groaned and placed his free hand on his forehead again. “Don’t drag her into the names. They’re bad enough just with me.”
Randall shook his head. “No can do Hamikan Skywalker. You and Veradme Amidala are a package deal now.”
“Hey, you know I identify more with Obi-wan Kenobi.” Hamish couldn’t help but argue. “Besides, if you watched Clone Wars like I keep telling you to do so then you’d know we’re way more like Obi-wan Kenobi and Duchess Satine.”
“Okay fine, how’s Hami-wan Kenobi and Veratine?”
Hamish mulled it over. “Hmmm. Actually not bad this time.”
“Enough! The both of you!” Vera exclaimed. “I am this close to powdering you both again and making you think that you are penguins from Antarctica.”
“Sorry.” Hamish apologized in a soft tone, giving her a fond look, which seemed to calm her.
Randall didn’t seem phased by her threat like he would’ve been before. “That’s a very oddly specific threat. May I ask why a penguin? I mean they’re adorable and all. But if I were to think that I was an animal I’d much prefer to be a puppy.”
“Duly noted.” Hamish told him and then turned to the other three. “Anyone else have questions before we never talk about this again? Jack?”
“Nah, I’m good. After this conversation I’ll be happy to never talk or even think about this ever again.”
“Agreed.” Vera interjected then turned her attention to Lilith. “Miss Bathory?”
“Nope.” She shrugged. “I’m just glad Hamish seems to be the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time.” She then asked him, “You are happy, right?”
Hamish stole a quick glance at the woman who he still had his arm around, before looking back at Lilith and nodding with a giant smile. “Very.”
He noticed Vera looking at him but couldn’t quite meet her gaze, feeling a little self-conscious.
“I have a question.” Gabrielle interjected.
The Grand Magus turned her head toward her direction. “Yes, Miss Dupres?”
“Are you happy, Grand Magus?” She asked pointedly, something sparkling in her eyes that Hamish couldn’t quite figure out and was kind of afraid to.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” Vera answered in a clear, authoritative voice. But he knew better, feeling her arm loosen in its hold.
She was closing in on herself again.
“Well, you did ask if we had any more questions and that is mine. You don’t have to answer, like you said before. But I figured since Hamish answered the question that you might as well.”
“Gabrielle.” Hamish chided, but she didn’t look phased. He wondered what angle she was playing, but knew it wasn’t anything nefarious that she might’ve had in the past. Whatever it was, however, she seemed to be using her psych degree for help.
He then looked at Vera. “You don’t have to answer it.”
“It’s okay.” She told him, still looking at Gabrielle. The younger girl gave her what seemed to be a nod of encouragement. Vera then shifted her body in his grasp so that she was fully facing him. She then gently placed her hand on his cheek, making Hamish stare at her wide-eyed. It had been hard for her to visibly show affection, and though the process was slow, she had been starting to show it more and more to him. But doing so in front of the others? That was completely out of her comfort zone. Did she really care about him enough to do so? What exactly was happening?
Vera then gave him a rare and bright smile before saying, “Yes. I am very happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in a long time.” Her eyes then shifted inward and he could practically hear her say in her head, “Even with the ever lingering threat of my demise without my magic”.
Hamish couldn’t help but gulp at the sincerity in her voice and the way she looked at him with such emotion. He was completely taken aback by not only her words and the fact that she even said them in the first place, but also the fact that she said them in front of his friends. It would be amazing enough whenever she would show him such vulnerability when it was just the two of them. And now she was showing not only her vulnerability but her feelings for him to the others.
Oh how he so badly wanted to kiss her and then go back on her desk to finish what they started.
But his friends were still there and they already saw way too much. Both in the physical sense and the emotional sense.
Seeming to be thinking the same thing, Vera changed her expression and tore herself from each other’s grasps. Both he and Tundra ached at her missing touch already. She then walked around her desk and toward his four knights, clearing her throat. “If any of you utter a word about anything that just happened since the moment you walked in, I will make you regret it so badly that you’d wish you dealt with an Emperor demon instead. Do I make myself clear?”
The four of them nodded with both amusement but mostly fear in their eyes. “Yes Grand Magus.” They answered in unison.
Vera then clasped her hands together. “Great. Now that all of that is finally over.” She then placed her on her hips expectantly. “What was such an emergency that all four of you needed to come to tell me?”
“Oh right yeah.” Jack responded first before clearing his throat and saying in a more serious tone. “Speaking of demons...there’s one on the loose.”
Both Hamish and Vera gaped at them before he asked, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“Sorry, we were a little distracted by the confirmation that Vermish became canon.” Randall answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hamish gave him a pointed look. “You gave us a ship name?”
“He did.” Jack answered for him. “Like a while ago.”
He mulled the name over. It was kind of flattering that their relationship had a name. “I like it.”
“What the hell is a ship name?” Vera asked, but then shook her head. “Never mind, I do not want to know. We’ve tangented enough already.” She then went back to full Grand Magus mode. “Pray tell, what do you know about this demon?”
“We’re not quite too sure who it is, but if my suspicions are correct then I think they’re a friend of mine and possibly not even all that dangerous.” Lilith answered for them.
“Right, you have demon friends now.” Vera then walked back toward the back of her desk before taking a seat at her chair.
Hamish remained standing beside her, placing a hand on the top of her chair. Vera then placed her own hand within his before pulling it down to the arm of her chair and placing their intertwined hands on top. All four of the knights eyed the hand placed but didn’t seem to be bothered by it.
Vera then gave his hand a gentle squeeze for comfort before saying, “Now, tell us everything you know.”
#hamish x vera#the order#hamish duke#vera stone#the order fanfiction#vera x hamish#randall carpio#jack morten#gabrielle dupres#lilith bathory#kj writes#kj's writings#my stuff#kj's writing
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Do u have ny angsty headcanons aboht aby character
first of all i relate heavy to the way this was worded, you’re so valid bro and secondly, lemme think of some! this is my first time doing angst so please bare with me! (this one is very long and you have my utmost admiration and thanks if you read it fully (if it’s too long and you can’t just know you’re so valid and i still love and wanna thank you) and to whoever requested this, thank you bc it made me really feel something and made me appreciate these characters even more!)
—
- percy will personally never in his life touch alcohol and he won’t dabble in drugs, he knows firsthand the vile effects of it and wants to be in control of his faculties. let it be known he will legitimately murder any abuser in sight, on sight.
- leo and percy often talk about their terrible home lives and percy gets really upset when leo mentions his foster homes and how he’s ran away multiple times, he talks about how much he misses his mother. he feels like it’s his fault and percy won’t hear any more of it, he’ll hold leo close & tight and let him cry into his shoulder and percy will also cry while leaving kisses on leo’s head and running his fingers softly through leo’s hair bc they’ve gone through so much hurt and pain and it’s unfair. percy in a silent pang of guilt is so grateful for his mother and that she’s safe and alive and just wished that the same could be said for leo’s mother. he wishes that gabe never existed and that their mother’s weren’t thrown into the bs they have to be thrust into just by virtue of being a demigod. he wants the gods and goddesses and monsters to just leave them alone and let them just find peace and rest
- piper talks to leo about her life and how she just wishes it was all normal and that they didn’t have to have such difficult lives, and how she just wanted everyone to be safe and leo just has his arm around her shoulders and lets her know that she isn’t alone in that feeling and they have a new found family and that’s what matters
- nico will sometimes just shut down in his bed and feel numb and realize that there’s water coming out of his eyes and he’s realizing he’s crying and is confused. he really misses bianca and just thinks about how she reincarnated and he shadowtravels the world trying to find her, but to no avail. there’s a sense of bitterness and betrayal in him but that quickly fades bc she was just a child that had to be a mother to him, and he starts feeling guilty and sobs uncontrollably bc he misses her and just wants her back and wants to hug and hold her again. hazel comes in bc she senses nico’s upset and just holds him so tight and whispers softly and sweetly that it will all be okay, that she’s there for him, that she’s his sister too and she loves him and she knows that nico loves her too
- he’s also never sleeping due to his nightmares of tartarus and he decides for a while just to not go to bed and stay awake, and around camp he might have a sense of dread and power roll off of him into waves that the campers feel and the hairs stand up on the back of their necks - jason & will notice this and quietly take him into the hades cabin and just sit quietly with him in his bed. eventually, nico dozes off and his hands are held both by jason & will - there’s an unspoken but understood communication between the both of them
- frank also always is missing his mother, he’s never not thinking about her and he has identity crises about how he can be the son of mars while he feels a strong connection to apollo and why did his mother fall in love with mars? his burning stick also is always looming in the back of his mind and still gets nightmares about it which he wakes up in the middle of the night from, in a cold sweat. fellow ares campers know that feeling and clarisse tells frank to come with her and they both sit down at the lake and talk about all the issues and heartache that comes from being the child of the god of war. clarisse lets him know the other kids know what it’s like, and she & they are always here for him, they’re always there for their own. frank starts to cry and clarisse holds him quietly knowing this is what he needs
- will is the resident doctor and while he’s saved countless lives, he’s lost a few too. they were his friends, his comrades, his brothers and sisters and some days it just eats him up - he feels guilt settle so deeply that he just goes outside bc he feels a sense of claustrophobia. piper & nico see him and sense this and they hold him up and take him to an open field that the demeter children have that is full of green grass, strawberry patches, and is filled with sunshine. they sit him down and will rests his head in nico’s lap while his legs are on piper’s and he just lets out everything he’s feeling while they both quietly listen and he talks until he can’t anymore bc he’s about to break down. nico kisses him very softly and let’s him know that everyone he’s saved is good and well because of him and those who were lost were granted elysium and are eternally grateful to will. nico said he’d even take will to the underworld to show him and make him realize the difference and good will has done in the world - the entire time piper is holding will’s hand and uses her charmspeak to calm him down in a way she knows will needs
- sometimes jason and annabeth just sit in the zeus cabin talking to each other about anything and everything. annabeth quietly speaks about tartarus with jason whenever she doesn’t want to talk to percy about it, because she knows it’ll bring him into a spiral as well and she doesn’t want to do that. jason feels a pit in his stomach as deep as tartarus bc how could she have survived? he knows how much will power she has, how capable, intelligent, strong she is but he can’t help feeling unbelievably frightened for her bc she’s not a child of the big three. big three kids are powerful and look at the wreck percy & nico feel - and while she is too, there’s just so much fear in her eyes and her voice falters and jason just holds her. she just sobs into his shoulder and he just holds her so tight in a silent gesture of “i’m here for you.” he rubs her back, let’s her get everything out, she doesn’t have to put on a strong facade and simply lets all her fears and worries out into the open air. jason hears her out, gives out advice and wisdom right at the perfect times, and he reiterates that he’s always here for her. the genuine thankfulness in her eyes is something he holds dearly
- jason will talk about how heartbroken he is that his memories were wiped. his own life feels like a game that’s being played by the gods and all the other demigods can relate to that notion, and percy hears him out and has jason lay his head on percy’s lap and just talk about the hurt. percy knows what it’s like, while it may be on a smaller scale, he can attest to the sadness and confusion jason feels and agrees w everything he says. sometimes jason just goes quiet and forgets to talk, and percy has to run his fingers through jason’s hair to let him know that he’s here, he’s alive, he’s making new memories and that he’s here for him.
- something reyna and jason have in common is the fact that both their parents descended into madness. they talk in hushed voices and tears softly fall down both their faces, they are both holding each other’s hands to make sure they’re tethered to this earth and that they’re here for each other bc they know what the other person is going through. reyna told nico this and she tells jason this too, and she speaks about how she’s afraid bc committing patricide is one of the biggest sins in the roman camp, and she’s afraid of what that means for her fate. jason tells her that pluto will be kind to her, he reminds her that nico & hazel have both talked to their father to guarantee elysium for them all, and while she appreciates that there’s always that sense of what if she doesn’t? jason eases her worries and tells her it will all be okay and reyna nods and looks into his eyes and makes sure that jason knows that it will all be okay for him too
- percy will sometimes just be alone in the poseidon cabin and will start uncontrollably sobbing. he furiously thinks to himself that if he’s a son of poseidon can’t he control his tears? to make them not fall? he thinks of how much he misses bob and constantly tells the stars that he says hello & he’s made a promise to himself that he would get him out of there one way or another. then he spirals about tartarus and how frightened and powerful he felt when choking the goddess of misery. he goes numb for a bit and then forces himself to think about the goodness in his life and the friends he has and the mother he so dearly loves and like a gift from above he sees tyson comes in and tyson is wondering why his big brother is crying? tyson tells percy to please not cry and holds him so tight and tyson’s eye is filling up w tears and his voice is wobbly and percy holds tyson’s face and tells him that him & tyson are going to be alright and that he loves him so dearly and he’s so thankful for him. tyson has the biggest smile on his face and percy just wants to protect him and he just hugs him so tight, trying to convey his love, admiration, and adoration for his lil baby brother
- leo and hazel will just sit together near the forest and hazel puts her head on his shoulders speaking about how much she wishes she had a normal childhood, how both her & leo were forced to make sacrifices for the greater good, and how the people she loved were hurt by her powers. leo stays quiet for a bit and tells her that they’re both the same and that their bond and friendship is strong because of that. hazel holds his hand so tightly bc she knows they’re both scared but they’re both alive and they’re here against all odds, and that’s what matters
- i know nearly all demigods deal with not only survivor’s guilt, but they had to deal with the loss of friends/loved ones, they’ve had to deal with horrific family situations and they’ve had to be thrust into war - it takes a physical, emotional, and mental toll and i just want them all to go to therapy, get necessary medication, and have people tell them that they love them
here you go anon! i had to bust out my sad songs in my playlist for this and if i’m honest, this made me love & appreciate these characters even more and i didn’t think that was possible. i love you and hope you enjoy this! also the way you wrote the message still is making me giggle you absolute icon - thank you if you take the time to read this, i know it’s way too long but this one really made me feel something <3
#sorry for how long this is i just really got into it#if it depresses you please forgive me#it made me love these characters more and i just want to hug them#percy jackson#percy jackson headcanons#if this is too long to read just know that’s so valid and i’m sorry <3#this is something i have never done before and wow what a request!!! made me feel things#also i know the people they talk to may not be some people’s first choice and idk why i chose it like this it just seemed kinda natural#if anyone reads this i just hope you enjoy :’)#percy jackson asks#asks
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day 24: loss | liam x mc (au)
title: disruption
pairing: liam x mc
@choicesfebruarychallenge | @bi-cookie ; @cxld-play
warnings: angst, smut, n*sfw, (18+)
word count: 5,764
song inspiration: if i ever feel better - phoenix
author’s note: first off, i’m not good at naming characters like at all, so elliott is just a placeholder bc i knew mc would look weird. second, i haven’t written an au choices fic yet, so i’m a lil nervous to post this! I’ve also never written liam before, much less smut for him, so i’m also nervous bc of that! this will probably be my only trr fic bc there are sooo many trr fics out there. lmao anyways, hope you enjoy this angsty smutty sad fic !
“We’re almost there, Elliott,” Bastien called to the backseat, startling her out of her sleep.
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, slipping her coat she’d been using as a blanket over her shoulders, zipping it up to her chin.
Lythikos had an intense frigidity to it, one that Elliott couldn’t forget. She only visited monthly for short periods of time, but the stinging sensation of the snow on her bare face never left her memory.
She checked her phone, her heart fluttering at the pseudonym that appeared on her phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I’m finishing up my last obligation, but I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.” His voice warmed her heart. It was the first time in weeks she’d heard it over the phone, not on television in a rehearsed speech.
“Okay. I brought some of my work with me if that’s alright with you. I’d love your feedback,” Elliott smiled to herself, treasuring her lover’s genuine interest in her new profession.
“Of course,” she could hear him beam through the phone. “I love you.”
“I love you too. See you soon.”
He hung up, and she sighed. Sneaking around was getting so tiresome, but she’d do anything and everything for Liam.
After Elliott and her friends couldn’t locate Tariq, the wedding went on as scheduled. It took her months of hiding out in Cordonia with her best friends to get herself together. Hana stayed by her side consistently, consoling her until she figured out a game plan.
She thought she’d be able to find a solution and live out her fairytale, but she was too late. She’d never be able to fully have Liam like she wanted, but Madeleine offered her a compromise to keep everyone happy.
She’d brought it up to Elliott before everything went to shit, and Elliott rejected it. She saw being a ‘mistress’ as an insult, because she knew she could find a way out of the mess she was in.
Months later, Madeleine, Liam, and Elliott ran a tight ship with friends to keep the affair under wraps.
Elliott could only meet with Liam once a month, under the guise that he had important monthly meetings to attend at Olivia’s home. They could only meet for a weekend at best, and a few hours at worst.
They rarely contacted each other between their meetings. It was depressing, but necessary to keep them a secret. Liam had a burner phone, and Elliott had to save his number under an undetectable moniker. When they spoke, it was short and sweet, and they couldn’t use each other’s real names.
She flew to Cordonia monthly, usually having to go to great lengths to disguise herself from the paparazzi.
It was emotionally draining and everything leading up to the rendezvous was stressful and tense, but all worth it when she saw Liam’s face light up when he first saw her.
Bastien pulled into the driveway behind the castle, easing up next to a side entrance that Elliott was all too familiar with – she knew Olivia would be waiting behind the large door.
She fixed her wig, pulling her beanie over the top of it, and hid her purple-rimmed eyes behind huge square sunglasses.
“Olivia informed me that you can go to the door. I’ll bring your bags in later. There aren’t any paparazzi in sight, so you’ll be safe,” he smiled at her through the rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.
“Thank you so much, Bastien. I could never repay you for what you’re doing for Liam and I,” she replied gratefully, apology laced through the tone in her voice.
“Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t feel guilty. The only time he’s happy is when he sees you, and I’d never get in the way of that.”
Her heart swelled at the thought. She waved to him, stepping out into the blizzard.
The door cracked open, and Elliott spotted the fiery hair before her expression.
“Come in, come in,” Olivia frowned at her messy disguise. “That wig’s a mess, Elliott. If you’re gonna opt for a cheap, frizzy wig, at least hide a pocket knife in it.”
Elliott shrugged, grinning at Olivia’s annoyance. “Why should I do that when I have my best friend here to protect me?”
Olivia scowled, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’re lucky I’m your ally.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, leaving Elliott scurrying to catch up.
Elliott had gotten pretty familiar with the underground tunnels of Lythikos over the past year. Olivia secretly renovated an unused area to make an apartment-like cluster of rooms, so that Elliott could stay safely in the tunnels with everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.
It was an ingenious idea, and Elliott had no idea how to pay her back for her generosity. Honestly, Olivia probably did it to avoid controversy, like most every noble was doing. Elliott wasn’t sure if Olivia was doing it for the sake of Cordonia’s image or the sake of her friends’ sanity.
Olivia pulled out a skeleton key and unlocked the door, turning on the lights. “I added a more comfortable bed, some more decorations, and got Bastien to fully stock the fridge, so you can cook pretty much anything you want.”
She walked over to the living room area and pointed at the T.V. “I didn’t have to get a 60 inch flatscreen for you, but I know how much you love binging horror movies that I had to help scare you somehow.” She smirked, and pulled out a few drawers from the T.V. stand. “I ordered a hundred or so movies in case you get bored. I have no idea how long you’re gonna be here.”
Elliott shifted her weight, sighing. It was too painful to stay longer than a couple of days. “I was gonna leave on Sunday like I usually do –”
“How asinine. You’re taking a 9 hour flight on a Thursday night to get here by morning, and you take another 9 hour flight back on Sunday morning? You’re wearing yourself thin for no reason, Elliott,” she shook her head at Elliott, confusion lining her expression.
“Liam usually can’t spend more than 2 days at a time with me.”
“You have other friends in Cordonia, you know that right?” She narrowed her eyes at her, crossing her arms.
“After all that happened, I can’t show my face here. My reputation is tarnished, and even being seen here is a scandal waiting to happen. It gets riskier and riskier every time. I can’t risk any of my friend’s well-being for the sake of my secret relationship,” Elliott plopped onto the couch, defeated.
Remorse flashed through Olivia’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “None of this is your fault, Elliott. We know the truth.”
Elliott shook her head, a lump forming at the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that Justin and Adelaide were ousted as terrorists, and that Elliott’s friends were able to stop them from assassinating Liam and Madeleine.
Tariq was never found, and King Constantine was killed before he could clear her name. No one would believe Bastien, and Penelope was too afraid to publicly admit her wrongdoing, so Elliott didn’t have enough evidence to be exonerated.
“Sometimes… I wish everything were different. Maybe if we’d split up and searched on our own… or if I tried a little harder…” She struggled, her throat burning, a sign of tears to come. She didn’t want to talk about this situation any more than she had to, which was every time she visited.
Her new life was pretty much an escape from the events of the past year, but she was forced to face her past trauma head on every time she stepped foot on Cordonian soil.
“Elliott…” Olivia trailed off, and reached towards her, but dropped her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I’m still seething over the whole ordeal. I’m pretty defensive since I know we’re right but no one else knows that.” She sat down, leaning back onto the couch, crossing her legs. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re risking our social standing or anything. All of us know exactly what we’re risking to help you and Liam, and we’re okay with it. You’re our…” She whispered the last word and Elliott couldn’t quite hear her.
“I’m your what?”
“...friend.”
Elliott threw her arms around Olivia, relishing in the rare vulnerable moment. Olivia seldom showed her true feelings, but when she did, it was like watching a shooting star. It was beautiful, fleeting – a great memory nonetheless.
“Get off of me, you sap,” Olivia patted Elliott’s back with the tip of her fingers.
“Thank you for everything you’re doing. I seriously can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you all, please tell me. I owe you a lifetime of favors.”
“Well, first, you can actually spend time with Hana, Drake, and Maxwell. They won’t shut up about you.” Olivia rolled her eyes.
“Deal. I never got to see Cordonia on my own time, so maybe you could give me a proper tour of Lythikos next time I’m here. You know, when I’m not banished to the cellar.” Elliott grinned.
Olivia laughed once, a delightful noise. “Sure, but you’ll need better snow gear. And take a self-defense class or two before you do so.”
Elliott quirked a brow at her friend, then shook her head. “I won’t even pretend to know what you have planned for me.”
Olivia stood up, and headed for the door. “You have no idea.” She opened it, and before leaving, she said, “Liam should be here soon. Let me know when he’s in the room so Bastien and I can keep watch.”
“Be careful, Liv.”
“Don’t call me that,” Olivia smirked, and closed the door.
----
Elliott spent the next hour working in her notebook, editing and rewriting paragraph after paragraph. An animated movie she’d seen a million times played in the background, prompting Elliott to hum along to her favorite song.
After another hour, she started to worry. She aimlessly flipped through the collection of DVD’s, not really paying attention to the titles.
Where’s Liam? She thought, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.
After hour three, she read a little from a book she’d brought until her eyes started getting heavy.
She awoke to a sequence of 5 sharp raps on the door, followed by a pause, then 3 more.
Our secret knock, She thought. She shot up from the couch and ran to the door, happy tears already welling up on her bottom lids.
She fumbled with the lock, anticipation causing her to shakily rip open the door.
And there Liam stood, holding a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a neatly wrapped present. His perfectly tailored suit laid perfectly on his arms and torso, his muscles just barely concealed. He beamed, his eyes glistening as his eyes grazed over her face.
She grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him inside hastily. “Whoa,” he said, nearly losing balance.
Elliott blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips softly on his, a picture perfect moment she snapshotted and tucked away in her favorite memories.
All of the anxiety she felt traveling in disguise melted away the moment she touched Liam.
“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.
“I missed you more,” she breathed, snuggling into his neck.
After a sweet moment, she pulled back, and snatched the champagne from his hands. “What’re we celebrating, love?”
He grinned, and locked the door behind him. “It’s a momentous day, Elliott. It’s been a year to the day since we first met.”
Elliott looked at him lovingly, hugging the bottle to her chest. “A whole year?”
He nodded, setting the flowers and present on the table, and gathered Elliott in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. “A whole year. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Elliott.”
He used a finger to tilt her chin to him, and he pressed a soft kiss on her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me.”
“I love you so much, Liam.” She giggled, shaking her head. “From waitress to mistress. Same suffix, different job title.”
His smile wavered, and he exhaled a long breath, obviously uncomfortable with the joke she’d told. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. Marriage is just a title. Madeleine and I are just business partners. You’re my soulmate, Elliott.”
She pulled back, fiddling with the top of the champagne. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be so secretive.”
He gently took the bottle from my hands and popped it open. “I’ve still got local historians and lawyers on my payroll, and they’ve been extensively researching Cordonian laws. I don’t know if they’ll find anything, but I’m determined to keep looking. I don’t want to lose hope.”
Elliott pressed her mouth into a line, then quirked it to the side, processing everything he’d said. “I want to be hopeful that we’ll get out of this eventually, but I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you, baby. Stress free.”
He poured them two glasses of champagne, and handed one to her. “Of course. My apologies.”
They sat at the kitchen table, and Elliott picked up the flowers, taking a deep whiff of the bouquet. “You really outdid yourself this time, Liam.”
The cluster of sunflowers, lavender, and white roses contrasted beautifully, and smelled even better. “They reminded me of you, so I had to pick them up.”
“Along with a gift?” She lifted a brow, challenging him.
He sipped his champagne, trying to hide a smile. “I think you’ll like it. Open it.”
She ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. She lifted the top off, revealing an assortment of toys on top of a lacy lingerie piece. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“I love it,” Elliott said, nibbling at the skin on her lip.
Liam eyed her lips, a playful look in his eye. “I thought we could try something new this weekend.”
The blush on her cheeks stayed, despite her eagerness to get in bed. “I like the sound of that.”
She gulped down the rest of her champagne and snatched the lacy piece, running to the bedroom.
“Hey!” Liam called, about to stand from the table.
“I’m trying on the lingerie! Stay where you are! It’s a surprise!” She yelled through the closed door.
Elliott emerged after a few minutes, peeking her head out of the door. “You ready?”
“Beyond ready, my love.”
She stepped out, and Liam’s breath hitched in his throat. She could plainly see him shift his legs, desperately trying to conceal his bulge.
“You look… stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, Elliott,” he said, his mouth agape, eyes hungrily roaming across her body.
The strappy lace piece fit like a bikini. The bottom was closer to a g-string than a thong, and the crotch was cut out, making it for easier access. The lace was sheer, barely covering her nipples and folds. She should’ve felt sexy, but was more out of place than anything.
“This is so corny, Liam. You bought me something that you’re just going to strip off of me, and I look absolutely ridiculous in it,” She said, crossing her legs to cover the lack of cloth around her opening.
He stood from his chair and crossed the room to touch her. He laced his fingers through her hair and draped his other hand across the small of her back. He tilted her head back, kissing her neck and nipping gently at her exposed skin.
“You’re right. I want to rip this off of you, but I can’t even begin to describe to you how arousing this outfit is. You never have to wear something that you’re not comfortable in, but I assure you it’s a pleasurable experience on my end,” he breathed into her ear, tightening his grip around her waist.
“Oh fuck,” She whispered, his bulge rubbing against her, causing her to gasp in repsonse. “Please, let’s talk later, and fuck now. I need you now, Liam.”
“Say no more, beautiful.” He swept her up and brought her to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them with his foot.
He dropped her onto the bed, and shimmied off his coat jacket, hanging it on the back of the wall.
“You’re so adorable, Liam. In the midst of a heated moment, you still have the mind to hang your coat up carefully so that it doesn’t crease before fucking my brains out,” she giggled.
Liam scrunched his nose up in confusion. “I can be reckless.” He threw his coat on the ground, but after a few seconds of eye contact with Elliott, where she could tell how absolutely tormented he was, he snatched it by the lapels.
Elliott howled with laughter as Liam hung it up carefully, brushing off the dirt.
“You always manage to be right, Elliott,” he softly smiled, unbuttoning his top buttons slowly. “But I don’t mind.” His arms flexed as he rolled his sleeves up. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a little reckless in private, that’s all that matters.”
Her heart raced as he left the room and returned with the box of toys. Although she’d committed Liam’s body and their sexual encounters to memory, she still found herself enthralled with him like it was the first time they met.
He sat on the bed next to Elliott’s lace-clad body, and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Are you okay with me trying some of the toys out on you? I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with it before trying anything.”
She smiled, nodding. “Yes.”
He pulled a small handheld vibrator out of the box, just small enough to fit on a finger. “First things first, I want to taste you.”
Her lower stomach clenched and ached as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs. Before she could throw out a sexy quip, he had taken advantage of the crotchless design by plunging his tongue into her folds, stroking relentlessly.
She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. He in turn rumbled against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.
“Liam, please,” she breathed, feeling his hand on her stomach, holding her bucking hips in place.
He knew exactly what she wanted; he always read her cues perfectly. He slid a finger into her, curling it the way Elliott loved. He moved his hand and tongue in unison, the similar paces bringing her close to the edge.
Just as she was about to release, he pulled away, slipping the vibrator on his fingers. “Is it alright if I try this out on you now?”
She nodded, her body eager for his touch. He massaged her clit slowly with his fingers, keeping in time with the laggard pace of his other fingers pumping in and out of her.
The strong vibration mixed with the pressure of his fingers sent Elliot into another world. Her eyes rolled back, and she focused on the image of Liam’s naked physique, his head between her legs…
Before she knew it, her legs were shaking. Liam kissed her softly, and reached into the box again, but she placed a hand on his wrist lightly. “We have all weekend to play with them. I need you in me now.”
His pupils dilated even further, and he nodded, standing up to slip off his clothes. Although she’d seen him bare numerous times, it never failed to amaze her that the man whose heart belonged to her was so breathtaking. His body looked as it was crafted by the gods themselves, chiseled to perfection, undoubtedly due to his strict fitness and diet regimen.
He grabbed a condom from the box of toys, but before he could tear it open, she stopped him. “Could we… go without one this time? I’m on birth control.”
She wanted so desperately to tell him the whole truth, but she decided she’d wait until the time was right. It would sound like an irrational decision to him, but she had thought it out nearly every day since she left Cordonia for the first time.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but… I’ll pull out. Just in case.” He looked unsure, but lowered himself onto the bed next to her anyways.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”
“No, please continue. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be honest with me, Elliott.” He touched her cheek softly.
“The only time we had sex without protection was our first time in the garden, remember?” She smiled softly, reminiscing.
“Of course I remember, my love. It’s one of my favorite times that we’ve been together.”
“Oh, so you’re ranking them now?” She smirked.
“Definitely not. Every time is special, but that one was even more special to me.”
“I was thinking we could kind of recreate the night.”
His eyes twinkled, full of love for the woman he could never fully give himself to. It was depressing, but Elliott pushed those thoughts behind her horniness and flipped on top of him.
“I love when you take charge, El,” he said, his voice verging on a growl.
“You’ve never used that nickname. What gives?” She tried joking, but his bare shaft pressed between her legs was distracting to say the least.
“I don’t know, I thought it was cute,” he shrugged. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”
“No, I love it,” she breathed, and began grinding her hips against his. His grip on her hips tightened, and she leaned forward, kissing him deeply.
He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip against her opening, teasing her. “You’re a tease.”
He pressed his hips upwards, entering her. Her body shuddered with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, as her hips moved lazily against his.
“It’s so weird hearing you curse, King Liam,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.
His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “I’ve never been aroused by a title before, but I have to say that ‘King Liam’ sounds delectable coming from your lips.”
He moved his hands to grip underneath her ass, lifting and lowering her the length of his shaft. She mewled in response, her legs tightening their grip around his middle. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you speed it up,” she purred.
He picked up the pace, deepening his thrusts. All of her worries of the future were a fading blip, her sole focus on pleasuring and being pleasured by Liam.
Before she knew it, he’d flipped her, raised her hips, and pounded into her from behind. “Oh,” she cried, her guttural moan muffled by the thick down pillow.
He sped up, his skin smacking against hers relentlessly, the sounds of ecstasy filling the room. She turned back to gaze at him through half lidded eyes, and was met with Liam’s sultry concentrating face. She’d seen it many times before, when discussing security issues with Bastien, but never in this context.
She felt herself getting wetter and wetter at the sight of him getting off inside of her. She was the one pleasuring him behind the scenes. She was the one exploring parts of him the public would never see, much less Madeleine. She got to see a side of Liam that not a single soul would ever experience. It gave Elliott a new sense of security, despite the harrowing situation they were in.
He reached into the box again and grabbed a handheld vibrator she hadn’t seen before. “I’m close, my love, and I want to make sure you’re there with me,” he panted, before switching it on.
He tried handing it to her, but instead, she guided his hand between her legs. “Oh fuck, El,” he cursed, sweat trickling down his clean shaven chest.
He leaned over her, keeping his fast pace, and placed the quivering toy between her folds. She arched her back in response, pushing herself further into the pillow.
The sensation of the vibrator mixed with getting fucked brought her to the edge quickly, and she released, her body convulsing beneath Liam’s. She shrieked his name, clutching the sheets. “Oh, Liam, fuck.”
He quickly followed her, his pace becoming more jerky as he came with her. “Fuck, I love you, Elliott,” he shouted. The deep commanding bass of his voice reverberated off the stone walls.
When they could finally move, Liam plopped next to her, spooning her while peppering soft kisses across her neck and shoulders.
She couldn’t have imagined herself anywhere else in that moment but Liam’s arms.
----
After they cleaned up, Elliott threw on a robe and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to browse through channels.
He sat next to her shortly after, clad with sweats and a plain t-shirt. “This might be a terrible time, but we need to discuss something rather difficult.”
“That phrasing definitely scares me, but go ahead,” she joked, turning the TV off.
“We’re being pressured to pursue producing an heir,” Liam shook his head, pain and regret dripping off of his every syllable.
“Wh… What?” She forced out. Her knees wobbled, the air knocked out of her lungs. She knew it was coming, but not this soon after the wedding.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands balled into fists at his side.
“Why? You just got married! I thought we’d have a couple years at least!” she said, her voice hiking up an octave.
“With Constantine passing away and the terrorist attacks, there’s still some uneasiness within the people and nobles. They’re not sure that we’re still stable as a country. It’s more for the benefit of our image than anything. Trust me, I’ve held off as long as I could.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Are you going to have to fuck her?” Elliott’s voice quivered, her breath unsteady. She didn’t know if she was ready for the answer.
His eyes widened. “No, Elliott, I would never. We don’t have feelings for each other like that. The public doesn’t need to know that we’re not having intercourse.”
Elliott’s chest loosened a bit, but she was still cautious as she waited for him to continue. “We’re either opting for adoption, or artificial insemination. There’s not a fertility issue with either of us, but we’re both not capable of sex with each other. It just can’t happen.” He held her gaze, pleading with her to understand.
“I–I can’t continue this if you’re going to have a child with her, Liam. I’d be a homewrecker. I can’t let you be that kind of dad to your kid,” Elliott shook her head, tears freely falling.
His jaw dropped, and he staggered back. “Elliott, my love, I–”
“I know you love me, and I know that I love you. I know that life is going to be so fucking hard without each other, but I can’t do this to your future kid,” she sobbed, sinking into the couch. “You and Madeleine may have consented to our relationship, but your child didn’t sign up for this. Imagine if they found out about us? He’d think so little of you. I can’t have that.”
Her shoulders shook, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs shakily. She was experiencing a loss like she’d never felt before. She could stay with the love of her life in order to satiate her desire to be with him, but at the expense of horrendous guilt, knowing she could possibly break a family up and warp Liam’s future child’s perception of him.
If they stayed together, and the public found out about them, he’d be painted as the bad guy, even though Madeleine encouraged the affair. She’d throw him to the wolves, and he’d be absolutely obliterated by the press.
There wasn’t a winning solution to this problem. They were going to have to do what was best for everyone else, instead of what they truly wanted.
“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I can’t do this. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated and the excruciating pain in her chest continued.
“Elliott, we can figure it out, I know we can–”
“We can’t, Liam! This is it! This is the last time you’re going to see me!” She shouted, her voice trembling and unstable.
“We can still be friends,” he said softly, kneeling next to her trembling form on the couch. “I still want you in my life no matter what, Elliott.”
Anger flashed through her disjointed train of thought. Before she could gather them together, she unleashed her momentary rage on him.
“You’re really that selfish, Liam? You’re that fucking selfish that you could want to maintain the picture perfect life and get everything you could ever want, while keeping me on a short leash? To be there for you emotionally, physically, sexually, but I get nothing in return?” She stood up, pushing an accusatory finger into his exposed chest.
“I have to work under a pen name because of everything that happened. You can’t even Google my government name without reading about how much of a whore I am. I risked my whole life and career to be with you, and you didn’t have the decency to publicly defend me. You just sided with everyone else except for the woman you supposedly ‘love’,” Elliott continued, pushing a tormented Liam closer and closer to the door.
“I have to fly back home when you’re done with me and leave all of my closest friends. This is my real home. I have people who love me and care for me here. I fell in love with Cordonia, its people, and you. But I’m pretty much a prisoner in a dungeon every time I come over,” she rolled her eyes, refusing to shut her mouth and let Liam speak. “All for sex. All for a quick fuck and less than 48 hours of your time before I’m shuttled off back to the cold, heartless city of New York.”
Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Elliott suddenly cackled, cutting off any attempt of him speaking.
“I forgot to tell you that I landed a book deal with a huge publishing company in the city. They want a few novels out of me. They loved my first rough draft of my book so much that they offered me a multi-book deal,” she smiled, shaking her head.
“That’s incredible, baby–”
“I was excited to tell you and instead all I can think about is how by the time I get my first book printed and released, you’ll have a kid. A family,” Elliott walked away from Liam, and sat at the kitchen table, taking a long swig from the champagne bottle.
After a long moment of silence between them, Liam finally spoke. “I know it seems like the universe is fighting us tooth and nail. I know that this situation is the worst we could be in. But Elliott,” he sat down across from her and lifted her chin up with his finger, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, and I won’t give up on this unless you tell me to leave you alone.”
“You know I don’t want to tell you to leave me alone. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do, but that’s how it has to be. You’re being selfish right now, Liam. You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes. This whole situation was selfish, but I guess it was okay since Madeleine okay-ed it,” she took another deep drink from the bottle. “But your child is completely innocent. They don’t deserve to be caught up in your selfish decisions.”
He flinched, and his form deflated. “I think… you might be right, El.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening. “I guess it was absurd to think this affair would last forever.”
She smiled sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”
“I’ll always love you, El. I’ve always been truthful about that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”
She leaned forward to cup his face in her palm. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liam.” She took another gulp of the alcohol. “I guess now that you’re confessing, I’ll have to confess, too.”
His brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.
“I have an appointment with my OBGYN next week. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve been seriously contemplating a hysterectomy for months now. Since you married Madeleine, really.”
“What? Why?” His eyes widened in surprise.
“I can’t see myself with children, but I can with you. You’re the only man I could ever picture having children with,” her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a punishment to myself. I just know in my heart I’ll never want children again.”
His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”
Her chin wobbled as the truth of the situation finally set in. She was no longer his, and he was no longer hers. The crown disrupted the fate of the lovers, and there was no amendment.
----
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Pocahontas (Thorin x Reader) -Chp1
Story summary: Set before the quest for Erebor. Homeless and wounded after the Battle of Moria, Thorin and his kin find shelter in an ancient dwarven tribe. He meets the Chiefs daughter who teaches him the beauty of nature, challenging his royal upbringing.
Chapter summary: lil angsty backstory for Thorin after the Battle of Moria. Will be more speech in next chapter I promise lol
Fandom: The Hobbit
Warnings: mentions of death
A/N: I'm backkk *laughs nervously* I'm not even gonna make an excuse this time, but my laptop is permanently broken so I wrote this on my phone. New Pocahontas series bc why not start a new series when you haven't finished the others :)
They had won the Battle of Moria but at what cost, Thorin reflects gravely as he looks upon the sea of corpses. The King is dead. Frerin is dead. And Thrain has fled, Thorin thinks of his father bitterly. They had come to Moria to seek refuge, to rebuild their home, to recover from the loss of Erebor. Instead their enemy was waiting and ready for blood. Azog. The name brought a wave of pain and rage as Thorin takes the decapitated head of his grandfather and returns it to the rest of his dead body. The remaining dwarves gather around, paying their last respects to their King.
"Gather the dead," Thorin commands coldly, "we are too few and defenceless to stay and protect Moria. We shall leave in the morn." The company nod solemnly and separate, some start digging graves whilst the others collect the bodies of their fallen brothers and sisters.
Thorin himself goes off to search for his own kin, through the blood and mud trying to spot the familiar golden armour. Memories of his younger brother begin to flood his mind. Frerin. So full of life, so happy. Frerin was protected from his royal duties, allowed to enjoy his sheltered childhood. At first Thorin would envy his younger brother but as time went on and Thorin's own duties began to get too much he found solace in Frerin's joyful innocence. Lighting up any room with his smile and mischievous antics.
Thorin spots the familiar red strip of cloth, Frerin had tied to the handle of his sword, flailing in the wind. His brother's keepsake of their mother. He stumbles into the pool of blood and collapses to his knees beside the body, sinking into the mud.
Cradling Frerin, Thorin is pulled into memories of when he was a boy and Frerin was a babe, holding his baby brother close as he cried. It was Thorin who was crying now. Silent tears streak down his muddy face.
He should've been here for him.
Guilt racks his body. Even in death Thorin couldn't make it up to his brother. His funeral would be an unmarked, isolated grave. They had been rendered to poverty after Smaug's attack, and although Frerin kept high hopes, he had at least wanted his brother to have a funeral fit for a royal.
He takes off Frerin's helmet, swallowing dryly as he takes in those piercing eyes staring up at him. Shaking hands go to close the corpses eyelids. He picks up the body and begins to trudge back to camp, stepping over the numerous bodies in his way.
"Where are we heading for son?" Balin breaks the silence of the caravan, walking beside Thorin. They had been travelling for days on end, disheartened and wary, trudging blindly along Middle Earth.
"We head for Ered Luin," Thorin replies gruffly and Balin nods.
"Laddy we need to set up camp tonight. Many of the dwarves are injured, we all need to rest for the journey ahead." The words make Thorin tense up. He knew he was pushing his kin but it was for their own safety. They would not survive another attack and at the snail pace they were currently travelling at they wouldn't reach safety in time. They haven't got the luxury of resting.
However, as Thorin looks behind him, he understands Balin's words. His people were exhausted, hungry and dangerously low on supplies and medicines to tend to their wounded. They'll be digging new graves soon. Reluctantly Thorin nods, this was not how he dreamt he would take over as king. He was failing his people.
Balin's warm hand grasps his shoulder knowingly. "You're doing well lad. These are trying times but I know you'll lead us to the light." He says sincerely, and Thorin can hear the pride in his words. A small but sincere smile graces his lips in thanks to his old friend.
"We'll camp soon, beyond those trees." He gestures to the oncoming forest.
They had set up camp seeking shelter in the thriving forest. Thorin had never seen a forest quite like it, so lush and healthy, it was certainly unusual. A small haven in the midst of their misery.
Thorin watches the camp as they rest. He had helped tend to the wounded as best as they could, he had helped his kin settle down for the night and had taken first watch. It had made him feel slightly lighter, having the reassurance and trust of his people.
Yet his heart is still heavy with everything they have lost. Being brought up in royalty and riches it was hard to adjust so drastically. To look upon his impoverished people who were nobles back in Erebor, it left him cold to know of what they had been robbed of.
His thoughts are interrupted with the faint sound of splashing water. Grasping his sword, Thorin scrambles to his feet ready for an attack. He had sent Dwalin out to scout the area beforehand and the dwarf had come back satisfied they were alone, clearly he was mistaken.
Leaving his company behind, Thorin ventures out to locate the sound. Silently, he walks through the dense forest imagining what kind of enemy awaits him and how many there would be. He tightens his hold around his sword as the splashing grows louder and wades through a small pond. He stops as a thick leafy veil blocks his view. Knowing danger lurks behind it, Thorin doesn't even stop to think as he charges through the veil ready to slaughter the enemy.
His warrior cry is caught in his throat as he stops in his tracks and stares at his 'foe'.
But instead of danger, Thorin is met with a small, copper-skinned woman, innocently filling her ceramic pot with water.
Taglist: @j25m18c24 @spooookyscary @waddles03
#thorin x reader#thorin one shots#the hobbit#thorin#Thorin Oakenshield#thorin imagine#the hobbit imagine#the hobbit fanfic#the hobbit fandom#The Hobbit fic#thorin oakenshield x reader#pocahontas
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been dying for the Mordred/mastersona in their tag so ty so much 😭... May I request another Mo/fem!mastersona? In this case, a mastersona who tends to be reckless with their own safety bc she wants to protect her servant (in this case, Mo!) She really takes care of others but rarely herself, making her a lil messy but she's trying..!
Hi, thank you! I really enjoyed writing your request as well. Alright, that sounds good ^^ This may end up being a bit angsty and sad though...
Reckless fem! master x Mordred Headcanons
- The very first time that you rushed to save Mordred- by intercepting an enemy master before they could unleash their servant’s sneak attack- was highly successful. As you turned to look back at Mordred with that warm smile of yours, they were at a loss for words; their expression laced with pain.
- Were you underestimating their strength as a servant? Were you unable to rely on them? Negative thoughts such as these burst within Mordred’s mind, as a torrent of anger begins to bubble within. As soon as they start to scold you for your actions, your response of “I’m so glad you’re okay!” catches them off guard. This response makes them realize that you’re not looking down on them at all, which leaves them even more confused by your actions.
- Their simmering temper finally explodes once you dusted off your clothes, walking ahead as if nothing has happened. Despite the wounds grazing your arms; as a trail of blood follows in your wake- your brave composure has the opposite effect on them. “I can handle myself, damnit!” They all but yell, eyes blazing with fury. “Why the hell would you do something like that?! I never asked for your protection!” Even if your intentions were kind hearted, Mordred can’t help but feel somewhat offended by this. However, this sense of rage is also tinged with worry and concern for your wellbeing.
- As you explain to Mordred that you saved them out of a sense of compassion towards them- as tears pool around your eyes; their expression changes from anger into pure dread. “Shit...” Streaking their hands through their wild locks of hair, Mordred sighs, feeling slightly guilty for shouting at you. “Look. All that fighting crap is my duty, not yours. No matter how much you care for me, there’s no way in hell I can let you get injured on my behalf, you hear?” Although they’re happy that you care for them, your self-sacrificing traits send all sorts of uncomfortable feelings and memories bubbling to the surface.
- Before you can even open your mouth to protest that you just want to do your very best for Mordred, by offering your assistance in any way you can- your body begins to falter. Just before your body blacks out entirely from the blood loss, Mordred scoops you up in their arms; eyes wide with fear. This is why they didn’t want you to sacrifice yourself for them. It hurts so much for them to see you like this, when they feel like it’s their job to take care of you instead. Biting back tears, they rush you back to safety.
- When you finally reawaken, you find yourself wrapped up within a cozy assortment of messily-arranged duvets, bandages haphazardly wrapped around your body. Turning your head to the side to take in your surroundings, you see none other than Mordred sitting by your bedside. “Yo. Glad you’re finally up again.” Although their tone of voice is playful, their expression is cold.
- Worried that you’ve caused irreplaceable damage, you begin to apologize; only for Mordred to stop you, mid-sentence. “Don’t say sorry, damnit!” As your expression falters, they awkwardly pull you some sort of hug. “Just don’t do that kinda stunt again! You should take care of your damn self too!!!!” Mordred gingerly pats you on the head, as you cry into their chest. “O-oi...don’t cry, okay?” They feel somewhat bad once you explain your tendency to value the needs of others above your own.
- Mordred has seen for themselves what happens to those who give all of themselves away, until they have nothing left. Sometimes they sacrifice themselves so much for the sakes of others that they lose themselves entirely; garnering naught but cold stares and glares from the very people who they wished to protect in the first place. As they struggle to suppress such memories, they look you straight in the eyes. “Put yourself first for once.” Their words are final. “Don’t be like that old man, who- shit, just be nice to yourself! I’ll even use force to prevent you from sacrificing yourself, if I have to! You hear? I won’t hold back, even on you!”
#mordred#fate series#my writing#fgo#gilgablog#ah man this made me wanna cry actually. i hope ur okay. please value yourself too. i felt this like this prompt gave me legit feels
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