#we fuck under a willow tree
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brokeback mountain but it’s reader and ellie and thoroughfare by ethel cain is on constant repeat forever and it’s like 𝜗𝜚𐚁𖤓
yk? or am i cray cray
#dolly’s stuff 𝜗𝜚#lesbian#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie williams smut#tlou part 2#am i crazy#we fuck under a willow tree#but nobody dies tragically
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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
one | two
Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.
bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
You're in the process of ruining your pyjama bottoms with willow charcoal when your father dies.
The charcoal is fragile, unhoused, and it snaps with too much pressure. An uneven half falls between the sheets of your sketchbook, marring the artwork it rolls over indiscriminately.
You sigh without thinking and rub your tired eyes, spreading a line of smudgy black under your brow. Squinting, you peek at the portrait you'd been drawing. A young woman with deep, dark skin, her cheek shaded by the leaves of a sycamore tree. The branches arc over her skin in shadowed lines, sunlight dappling illustrated by sparse triangles of the white paper underneath.
It had been an okay sketch. The snapped charcoal distracts from what you'd originally set out to do — a dynamic, revealing portrait — and instead replaces it with a more abstract feel.
You sigh again, this time with a melodrama you'd only ever feel comfortable displaying alone. Thankfully, that's the case more often than not. You live by yourself, no partner, no pets, nobody around to see you drop your sketchbook onto the floor beside your bed, kick out your feet toward the rug, and moan. Your socks slide against the hardwood. You kick them like a child as you slip down the side of the bed, shirt caught behind you, soft middle exposed.
You swear to yourself quietly, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes.
A sharp trilling sound chimes. On the nightstand, your phone vibrates hard, and the water in the glass next to it crests against the sides like tiny shockwaves.
You pull it into your lap and stare at the number. It goes to voicemail, and then it rings again. Again, again, and again.
You consider turning your phone off. Five phone calls and counting indicates an emergency, but every cell begs to avoid whatever it is on the other side.
You can't avoid everything, no matter how much you want to. You answer the phone.
"Hello," you greet.
The muffled echo of a cheerful voice responds.
"Yeah, that's me… Okay. Yeah, now is fine."
More chattering. Less cheerful, diplomatic.
"My father?" you ask.
You are told two impossible truths.
"Oh," you say. The walls spin. "Right."
—
"I hate flying," Sirius mutters.
James hums, noncommittal.
"You know, my good looks are wasted if we end up lost in the middle of the Atlantic ocean."
"It's not the middle of the Atlantic ocean," Remus says, sounding about as interested in Sirius' whining as James is currently. "It's an arm."
"It's the fucking English channel," James says. It's barely the ocean. "How much do you reckon a pair of in flight headphones will cost?"
Sirius, despite his anxiety, has the bandwidth to appreciate James' bad mood. "What crawled up your arse?"
James sinks down into his seat, knees immediately pressed into the hard plastic of the chair in front, back aching and head heavy from a lack of rest he won't make up anytime soon.
"He's agitated," Remus says.
"Helpful, Moony. Super helpful."
"Fuck yourself, then," Remus says, pulling his sleep mask over his eyes and plugging in his earbuds.
The tannoy dings. The seatbelt light flashes.
A flight attendant raises his voice from the start of the aisle. "If everybody could take their seats and buckle in, we'll be taking off in less than two minutes. Please turn all electronics to aeroplane mode. Thanks so much."
"Is your phone off?" Sirius asks.
"No, I actually want us to drown in the channel, but thanks for asking."
A dark shock of curls lands against his shoulder. Sirius drapes himself unabashedly across James lap, hand on his friend's thigh, ankle crossing over ankle. Genovian through and through, Sirius doles out affection wantonly, smelling ridiculously nice as he does: a heady smell like browned sugar and citrus blossoms coalescing tickles the inside of James' nose.
"Are you still cranky that you got demoted?" Sirius asks, smooth tones pitched into bubbly baby talk.
"I didn't get demoted," James argues.
James had, in fact, been demoted.
"No, of course not. You've fallen from third guard to the Royal Prince of Genovia, may he rest in peace, to glorified babysitter of said Prince's illegitimate, forgotten child. Sounds the same to me."
"Then we agree," James says, wanting to close his eyes.
He'd pretend to sleep if he thought Sirius would believe it. Growing up together erases any semblance of privacy. Sirius knows James as James knows Sirius, and as they know Remus. Remus likely knows them all better than he'd ever admit, the youngest of the trio and the smartest, most perceptive man James has ever met.
Sirius isn't perceptive, he's vigilant. He can read even the smallest signs of unrest, and it makes him uneasy. There will likely always be a shadow cast over him from a rough childhood, and while James is in a god awful mood, he reaches out to alleviate Sirius' anxiety.
"I'm fine," James assures him, "just tired." Not mad at you goes unsaid.
"It won't be as bad as you're thinking."
"I'm fine. I'm not worried. Didn't sleep last night, and," —he grins as Sirius clasps his arm, their seats shaking underneath them, the plane beginning its race across tarmac— "some scrawny git is squeezing fuck out of my arm."
Sirius flinches away from him. "You're annoying."
James presses his shoe up to the side of Sirius' and leans back in his chair, wincing at the rattling carriage as they take off, and again when he remembers where they're going. You wait in London, though nobody in the task force assigned to your assimilation or the advisement team could come to explain how you'd ended up there. Your Genovian citizenship is unacknowledged on your passport, your birth certificate, even, and as far as Lily had been able to suss, you have little understanding of who you are.
"She sounded tired, mostly," Lily had said when pressed for details about the new princess' personality. "In shock. Slightly disbelieving, but could you believe it?"
Lily, James'... friend, and work colleague at a stretch, is an ambassador for the UK and full-time genovian resident. Along with a handful of other representatives and officials, she’d been responsible for opening the talks between Genovia and yourself. That is to say, she'd broken the news.
Surprise! Your dad just died! Double surprise, you're a princess. And, no pressure or anything, but we kind of need you to come back to Genovia to maintain the royal lineage before your grandmother abdicates the throne (unwillingly).
"Did you mention the tiara?" he'd asked Lily. The Princess' diadem, a master craftsmanship of silver-gold with a diamond the size of an apple.
"Weirdly, Potter, I didn’t mention the jewellery."
He supposes there hadn't been time to weasel that tidbit in between condolences and recruitment.
You haven't promised anything in ways of returning to Genova or taking up the mantle. James understands. If he were in your shoes, he likely would've laughed down the line and blocked the number. You’d shown incredible promise as a future leader, agreeing to meet with Lily and her team at the Genovian embassy. Then, a day later, they'd modified the plan and asked if you'd be okay meeting somewhere more private.
You'd said yes.
As someone who may be very involved in your bodily safety in the near future, James thinks you're an idiot. Somebody calls you, claiming that you're a princess, though nobody has ever bothered telling you this before because you were never heir apparent, and that they'll tell you more should you deign to meet with them in a place with meagre surveillance, and you say yes to this?
How you've survived as long as you have is a mystery.
He hopes you won't make his job difficult. Isn't that what everyone hopes? He feels guilty for judging you without meeting you, promising in his head to be nicer to you in actuality. You're probably grieving and definitely confused. He shouldn't be worrying about his job.
Redetermined, James lets the anxiety of his new assignment water down.
Sirius is thinking along the same lines: how easy will you make his particular occupation. "Bets are on. Scruffy or sweet?"
"Huh?" James asks, pretending he doesn't understand in hopes of rectifying Sirius' attitude.
"Slovenly or love-nly?"
"I'm sure she's fine."
"You should hope so, you'll be looking at the back of her head for a while."
James rolls his eyes.
"I'll manage, pretty or not."
His confidence draws Sirius' curiosity. "How're you so sure?" Sirius asks, chin-lifted, light eyes narrowed in bemusement. His expression dances with the surety of somebody well-raised. He could wear a potato sack and his regal air would endeavour, deep-seeded and neat like the trim stitching of his expensive clothes.
"Look at my face right now. Do I seem affected?"
Sirius laughs much too loudly at the implication. "Don't act like I'm not handsome, Prongs."
"Years of practice." James schools his features into an unaffected mask. "Uggos have no effect on me."
"How else would you look in the mirror?" Sirius drawls.
When Remus wakes afterward, he finds they haven't quite killed each other, though James has threatened it twice. With one hand, Black.
"Far are we?" he asks.
Sleep has made little difference to him. He’s the kind of fatigued that can't be improved with an afternoon nap, and the kind of unwell that can't be fixed. Medicated, diminished, but never fully healed. He rolls his neck and makes three separate, unfortunate sounds, stretching his tight hands out flat over his thighs.
"Landing any minute now is my guess," Sirius answers. "How are you feeling?"
He waves his hand around, tired eyes locking onto James' lasting frown. "Sorry for leaving you alone with him."
Sirius gasps his indignation. The three of them all smile in tandem, James in a rush to add to the joke.
"You should be, fucker, I don't care how sick you are. You're sick in the mind if you think it's acceptable to-"
"You're sick for acting like I'm some misbehaved child you've been pandering to. You're bullies, and as soon as we're in the airport I'm ditching you both in favour of a Great British Burger King."
"One," James says, still smiling widely, "I have your per diem, so unless you brought your wallet, you're sunk." Sirius frowns. "Two, I'd love it if you would repeat that little moniker you gave me a minute before he woke up. Seriously. Shed some light on the real bully."
Sirius pulls his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and places them over the bridge of his nose delicately. "Unnecessary."
"I wouldn't mind Burger King," Remus says.
"We have to be quick," James says.
Sirius is so incensed he actually spits a bit as he scathes, "You fuckers. I want food and it's lorded over my head, but Moons wants something and your only limitation is how fast he can eat it?"
He's not truly as angry as he appears. He's joking, and he's fallen into a familiarity that can only come with years of ragging on one another relentlessly. Still Remus pats his tight shoulder and smiles.
"I'm a slow chewer."
"He's a slow chewer, Sirius. Have some compassion."
“How fast could he chew missing a few teeth, I wonder?” Sirius asks.
James gasps, delighted at his friend's casual threat. Remus does a better job at hiding his amusement, tamping back a smile as he reaches over the armrest between their seats and slapping a hand into Sirius’ seatbelt. The mechanism unlatches, the ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ sign flashes, and a shaming beeping sound rings overhead.
Sirius squeaks.
—
What do you wear to meet a British ambassador? A Genovian ambassador? Any sort of diplomat? You aren't too sure what an ambassador even is, only that every word Lily Evans has said to you sounds shockingly official.
"Your citizenship has been reinstated whether you choose to move forward or not. We want to stress that you have choices," Lily says. Call me Lily, please. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"We also want to stress," says Emmeline, the Genovian ambassador, "that your presence in Genovia is greatly desired. For the funeral."
"The funeral," you say softly.
"It will be a… very, very big event. We don't have to talk about all of the logistics now. Or ever, if you're not interested."
Emmeline clears her throat. "The family would appreciate it."
The family. The royal family. The Queen of Genovia, your grandmother, and her… unfortunate younger sister, who's behaviour (according to the Internet) has been less than ideal. Her sisters son, who might take the throne if you refuse it. Or, so you've come to understand.
All this lineage and politics has been hard to navigate by yourself, though rest assured, you've been assigned two personal assistants of a sort. One for appearances of the physical, and one for appearances of the mind.
A stylist and a tutor.
"And a bodyguard," Lily says, "your safety is the most important thing."
You grip the end of your dress in your hands and squeeze the skirts tightly. Safety? You'd rather not embarrass yourself by asking.
"We actually want you to meet them now," Emmeline says.
"Whenever they show up," Lily adds. She sounds embarrassed but unsurprised, like this has happened before.
There's a small silence. You pull your bag into your lap and squeeze it, hoping it hides the curve of your stomach. You aren't sure what you're supposed to wear to occasions like this, and so you'd worn the nicest thing you owned, a pretty, simplistic dress ruched under the chest, and a cardigan overtop.
You catch yourself frowning and quirk your lips up into a practised smile. Gentle, amicable, the kind you'd offer a passing stranger.
"Well," Lily says, filling the awkwardness, "I'm sure they'll come around soon. Maybe we should talk about inheritance."
"Legally, you're entitled to an inheritance. You could think of it like a pension, an allowance you'd be given from the age of eighteen. You've already passed that, and so you'll be given the years upto, and then the rest in annual increments," Emmeline says. "There's a team of people who can and will explain it better at a later date, or whenever you want to discuss it, once you've agreed to a paternity test."
"A paternity test?" you ask.
You feel rather useless. All you've done is ask for explanations since you sat down, your head a spinning mill. Information goes around and around with no time to sink in.
Emmeline opens her mouth to continue and is interrupted by three sharp knocks.
"Come in," Lily calls. She turns her gaze to you, orange hair moving over her shoulder in a silken sheet, and raises her eyebrows.
You don't know what it means.
First to enter the room is a modestly dressed man with straight, sandy hair. It's long enough to peek out from under his ears, where it curls. He steps into the light, illuminating a shock of shiny scars clawed over the bridge of his nose and teasing up into one thick eyebrow.
"Sorry," he says, not quietly but certainly not loudly. "We had trouble finding the room."
Behind him immediately stands a man with dark hair to his shoulders, white but tanned. He wears slacks, in which a shirt has been tucked on one side and not the other, a purposeful dishevelment.
"And the building," adds the second.
Last to enter is the biggest of the three. You'd hazard a guess that he's six foot or taller, not the tallest of his companions but the most imposing, with a monotone outfit of pristine blacks that he fills too well, his shirt clinging to the muscle underneath it. His skin is a warm brown that soaks up the big light overhead and shines golden, his hair black and thick, laying in mussed ringlets stroked back from his face.
He is the most handsome person you've ever seen in real life. It startles you. Worse, when he meets your eyes.
You smile carefully. He smiles back.
Lily stands to gesture toward each man in turn. The first, "Remus Lupin," she says, "your tutor on all things Genovia." The second, "Sirius Black, stylist and your guide on media presence."
The third.
"James Potter," Lily says, not looking at him. "Bodyguard. James will be with you for the foreseeable future, even if you decide on– Well. You should get to know one another, at any rate." You must wear your worries on your face, as she continues, "You're in safe hands. James was third in command in the protection of His Highness."
"Hello," you say.
Sirius' eyes widen in tandem with his smile. "Hello."
"It's nice to meet you. We're sorry for your loss," Remus says.
"No," you say, head tilted toward your shoulder as you frown at James sympathetically, "I should be sorry, you actually knew him. I can't imagine how this feels for you."
"Thank you. But don't be," James says. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess."
You look to Emmeline, almost like you're waiting for her to correct him.
She smiles at you hopefully. "Shall we talk arrangements for your departure?"
—
James is trying not to look at you too much, though if he is he can write it off as purely protective. You're sitting in your seat like you're worried about touching a seat mate who doesn't exist, arms wrapped around your middle and face pointed to the floor.
"I'll rent a car," he says.
You curl into yourself a little more. "What for?"
"It's much safer."
"I don't want you to– I mean, you aren't a chauffer."
"I'm not." He bends at the knees to speak directly to you. "There are seven other people on this bus. One is elderly. Three are younger than sixteen. All seven could potentially harm you."
You look to the left without turning your head, toward the sound of young laughter. He'd bet money on your thoughts. Even the children?
"The driver could have an aneurysm. He could be paid off. He could be carrying a concealed weapon." James smiles at you placatingly. "Understand? If I drive, the potential danger goes down to one."
"Me?"
"No. Me." He tries very hard not to wink and look like a dickhead. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Not really my perogative."
"Oh, good."
James recall what Lily had said, rightfully. You and James will be in each other's company for the foreseeable future, and while he has a job to do, there's room for friendliness. Sort of.
He splits his attention between you and the front of the bus, where a small family carts a pushchair.
"What do you do?" he asks.
He knows you attend classes for a degree equivalent at your local college. He knows you're a waitress. He knows you moved to central London when you were very young, and that your estranged mother had been the cause of all this confusion. He asks you because he wants to know how you'll frame it. In your own eyes, what is your life?
"I'm a waitress."
He nods. "Local?"
"Mm. At a pub called The Morgan."
"You have a shift today?"
"Not today. I took the day off." You stand up and click the STOP call button on the rail James is holding. Your arm brushes against his. "It's this stop."
James trails behind you, off of the bus and straight into a busy street.
"How far is it to your house?" he asks, loud to be heard over the hubbub and the roadworks.
"Not long. Are you okay to walk?"
James finds himself oddly charmed by your question. "I'm just fine."
You squeeze through the crowded pavements lining the street, folded in, keeping your arms close, and you apologise every time you touch someone, even if it's the other person's fault. James keeps close to your back, moving to your side when he worries you might sprain your neck trying to check that you're following. He had some height on you, which is a good thing for security purposes — he can see uninterrupted over the top of your head when he stands this close.
The day is cool, the last dregs of an end of summer heat lingering in the air and encouraged by so many bodies in one place. James wonders if you're too warm, dressed as you are in tights, but the thought fades when you trip.
James grabs the top of your arm, fingers sliding between your arm and your chest. Closer than he wants to be, crueller than he means to be as he keeps you steady.
To his surprise, you laugh. A really nice sound, sudden but sweet.
"Sorry, Princess," he says.
"You saved me," you say, a hint of breathlessness in your tone. "Thank you. My flat's in the next building over."
"Brilliant." His bag is fucking heavy, a weight between his shoulders that aches when he lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it sets. You've got a long, long night ahead of doing nothing. "What's your address?"
You tell it to him. "Why?"
"For the rest of your security detail."
He slows as you come to the main door of your building. It's quieter here, the loudest sounds a symphony of barking dogs, car engines revving, and the jangle of your keys as you unlock the door and bump it with your hip.
"More people?" you ask. "Is that really necessary?"
"You always do that?"
"It gets stuck," you explain.
He hums. "It's necessary. The media's been paid handsomely to keep our operation to themselves for now, but there's always pressure to be the first to break a story."
"And I'm the story?" you ask, nodding toward the stairs in the centre of the room.
He steps over a bundle of scattered letters. The building is mostly clean, but mail bulges from cubbies, and an old mattress has been left propped against a wall.
"You're the story," he says, head up to analyse the atrium. There's a skylight spotted with green moss above.
You take the stairs up to the first floor, where your flat is the first he comes across. That increases your risk of a break in, rapists or robbers. He asks you to wait at the door while he clears each room, knowing it's an unecessary precaution but taking it anyway. It's not worth saving the half a minute it costs on the off-chance you've been infiltrated.
He snorts at his own train of thought and returns to you, where you're sliding a special locking mechanism between the door latch and the frame. You shake the lock.
"Did you get that recently?"
You look up at him and smile. "Since I moved in. I'm first on the floor. Don't want to get murdered in my sleep."
"Good girl," he says absentmindedly, crossing the room to secure your window.
He moves into your room again and secures the larger window over your bed. Then, because he's awful and curious, he catalogues your things.
"You're an artist," he says, head listed toward the doorway.
You stop by the dresser, hastily stuffing clothes left aside back into the top drawer. "Not– not really."
The room is a crammed collection of things. It's clear you've attempted to keep it clean. You were doomed to fail, an outpouring of your heart stuffed into a matchbox; books, sketchbooks, notebooks are stacked against the leftmost wall between your bed and your dresser, while paints and pencils take up two thirds of your desk. A small sketchbook rests closed in the mess of your unmade bed, dark bed sheets disrupted by a pair of white pyjamas discarded at the end. Soot or something similar stains the fabric.
He averts his gaze from your dirty hamper and faces you.
"At 8PM, one of my team will swap duty with me. His name is Frank, and I've worked with him before, but if you aren't comfortable with anything he does while I'm not working, you can tell me. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell Lily. You can tell me, of course," he amends. "I can take the couch."
"You sleep at eight?"
"I sleep at nine."
"You don't mind sleeping on the couch?"
"Not at all."
You walk to your dresser and pull open the bottom drawer. Inside is a layer of linens, and you pull them out neatly.
"You don't have to, uh, put on a show for me," you say with a wince.
"Sorry?"
"I'm not a princess. I'm not the princess."
"You don't think so?"
You look sweet, kneeling on the floor, hair in pretty disarray from the walk home. You move it out of your face and offer a folded square to him with both hands.
"It's a misunderstanding. But…" You take a pillowcase into your hand and stand up, closing the drawer with your ankle. "Even if I were, I don't think you need to be so formal, you know?"
You move past him, a wave of nice smells.
"It's my job."
Again, you surprise him by laughing, climbing on top of your unmade sheets to grab one of your pillows. "Right," you say, stripping it of its pillowcase and shaking it into a new one. The tip of your tongue makes a brief appearance as you plump up the corners.
You climb off of the bed. "Here," you say, taking the sheet he's holding to press the pillow into his hands.
"Oh," he says, looking down at the pillowcase. It's covered in small pink flowers. "I don't need this."
"My settee isn't comfortable."
"Half of my job is being able to sleep anywhere."
You smile at him. His words don't discourage you, and he stands in the doorway between your bedroom and your living room as you lay down an old quilt over the settee and tuck a sheet around it and under the sofa cushions.
"I know it's strange, but you could take my bed, if you wanted to. You're so tall, I don't think-"
James cuts you off, not unkindly. "Thank you, but I couldn't." He lets the side of his chest rest against the doorway, arms crossed. Your back is straight, tense with anxiety. "I have something for you."
You blink at him. "For me?"
He grins, his first proper smile all day, and pulls his bag onto the freshly made settee to unzip the front compartment. He pulls out a small jewellery box, pulling the lid off to hold between his arm and chest.
The tennis bracelet inside is thin but strong, made up of gold-silver links with sapphire-coloured gemstone. He assumes them to be real sapphire or something similar, like blue-hued ruby.
"This is a panic button."
You seem more anxious than when he'd pulled out the box.
"Don't worry about losing it. I'm sure the Genovian coffers will recover."
"It's not that. Do you think it will fit?" you ask.
He hadn't thought about it. Luckily, Mary had.
"There are spare links hidden under the velvet."
James puts the box on your coffee table and clicks the links into place, handling the bracelet with less care than he ought to. Firmly snapped into place, he offers the lengthened bracelet to you unlatched.
"Here," he says, pointing toward one link in particular. "If you squeeze this tightly, the heat sensor will alert me."
"It won't feel the heat of my wrist?"
"It will. It's sophisticated, it'll disregard anything that isn't a sudden spike. That's your panic button. You squeeze that–" He pinches it in demonstration. The small radio clipped discreetly to his shoulder starts to beep, a circling alarm. He removes his fingers from the bracelet and it stops. "Okay?"
"I haven't even passed the paternity test yet."
"My being here indicates that you're of special interest. We don't know if you're the Princess for certain, and neither do the newspapers. You're still in danger either way."
You press your lips together and hold out your wrist.
James steps close to you, enough to see details and lines he's missed. The longer he stays in your company, the more endeared he is to your shy smile, and your kindness, and he thinks you're the type of person who's outsides reflect the insides. You smile.
Either side of your wrist glows with heat as he drapes the bracelet over your skin and clicks it closed, wary of pinching you.
The room is quiet. The clock over your small kitchen table ticks.
"There," James murmurs, taking back his hands.
"Thank you."
He disregards it completely. "No worries."
His informality gets you, and you smile, your own first and proper smile since you'd been introduced.
By the time Frank arrives for turnover, James is confident that his assignment to your protection won't be nearly as awful as he'd thought. You'd insisted on making him something to eat, which he'd been sincerely grateful for, as a man can't run on Burger King alone, and then you'd practically showered him in an awkward but entirely genuine hospitality, offering your bathroom and all its contents, every blanket you owned, the TV remote, and a tin of biscuits.
He introduces you to Frank, and for an hour you make yourself busy in the kitchen, cleaning dishes you'd refused his help with and wiping down the counters.
He senses your unease at being outnumbered in your own home. Unfortunately, there isn't much he can do to make you feel better, besides appoint Frank to door duty and try to offer some words of comfort.
James tries not to look as imposing as he feels, clearing his throat to draw your attention as you leave the kitchenette.
"Listen," he says softly, a mirror of you now that you're both changed into lounge clothes and damp-haired from the shower, "I want to reassure you— I'm here to protect you from any and every threat. I know this is unconventional, but I promise to do my best to make this easy for you."
You look down at your trainer socks. "Sorry."
"Can you do me a favour?"
"Yeah, of course," you say, raising your chin.
"No more apologies. This is hard, and I know that, you don't have to say sorry for anything. I'll promise you whatever you need me to if that will make you feel more comfortable."
Princess or no princess, you're confused, and you're unhappy in your own home. James wouldn't want that for anybody.
"Do you think someone's going to kill me?" you ask.
James softens. "No. Nobody is going to kill you." His smile melds slowly to mischief, dark lashes kissing in the corners of his eyes as he squints. "I'm a brilliant bodyguard, okay? Don't doubt my skills. And Frank's alright."
You laugh under your breath, relieved. "I'm not doubting your skills."
"Good. I'm not just a pretty face, Princess."
You sober at the title. The flicker of camaraderie between you fizzles, and you shake it off.
"Can I get you anything?" you ask.
He hopes that in a month, or a year, when you're living the high life in Genovia with a hundred serfs and lavish goods beyond your wildest dreams, you'll keep your earnest smile, and your good heart. He's seen exactly what court politics can do to timid young women like you.
"No," he says, matching your volume, "nothing."
"Okay. You can wake me if you need anything."
He absolutely won't. "Thank you... Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
You disappear behind your bedroom door. James lays down over the small sofa, alarm set for a dry-eyed 4:30AM, and listens to your flat as it cools. You close the blinds, sharpen a pencil, and for a period of time, he's lulled by the mild shushing of a pencil over paper.
He falls asleep. He must. A silence settles, thick and uninterrupted as poured molasses.
A splintering crash pulls him back to consciousness, and every nerve-ending sings as a weight falls to the floor. A thump sounds from behind your closed door. James practically leaps over the settee's arm to your door, Frank hot on his heels.
He throws open the door, braced for impact.
You aren't anywhere to be seen.
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this first part, and if you did and you have the time please consider reblogging, it makes a difference! plus i'd love to know what u think or what you'd love to see in future<3
the fics title is adapted from a line in piedra del sol by octavio paz
#james potter fic#james potter#marauders era#marauders#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#the marauders#the marauders fanfiction#the marauders x reader#the marauders fanfic#james potter x fem!reader
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The Sweetest Sylaung
A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)
Word Count: 6k+
Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!
Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader
Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.
“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift
The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions
At least that’s what you had discovered so far.
The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.
You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.
It was in your blood.
The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.
“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.
Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.
“Sorry, cu-”
“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”
“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”
You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”
“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”
The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.
Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.
“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-
“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.
She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.
The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.
I mean, what else is there to do?
Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”
He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.
Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.
A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.
“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”
“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.
Which it kind of is.
Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.
Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.
It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.
Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.
You’d heard about interspecies hookups.
Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.
Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.
“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”
You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.
You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.
When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.
You tell her of the fact, often.
Kiri tells you to stop projecting.
———
The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.
“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”
“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.
Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?
You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.
So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.
Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.
But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.
Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.
He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.
At the hope of seeing you.
You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.
Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.
And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.
“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.
“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”
Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.
“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”
“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.
Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.
“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”
Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”
He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.
Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.
“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.
“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.
Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.
“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.
“No”
Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.
He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.
“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.
“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”
Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.
The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.
“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.
He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.
Beautiful.
“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”
You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.
You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.
And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over
“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”
You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.
“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”
And you could, a few weeks or so ago.
When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.
He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”
“Of course I did”
“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”
“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”
You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.
He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.
He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.
“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”
His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.
Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”
Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.
He makes you so easy.
“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”
Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.
If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.
Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.
You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.
He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.
“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.
“Hmm?”
“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.
“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.
“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”
“Neteyam! Hey!”
The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.
It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.
The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.
“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.
Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.
Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.
Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.
It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.
———
You dont know that though-
No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’
Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?
You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.
What if he told Neytiri?
That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...
…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?
You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.
“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…
“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.
“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.
The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.
“Y/N?”
You’re so stupid. “What time?”
You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”
“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”
———
The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.
When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.
You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.
“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.
That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.
It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.
You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.
“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.
Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.
He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-
His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.
His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-
“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”
“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”
And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.
You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”
You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.
No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,
“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”
Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.
You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.
With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.
“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.
“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.
“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.
He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.
You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”
“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.
You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.
He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”
He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”
“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.
“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.
“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”
He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.
“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”
You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”
It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.
“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.
It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.
“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”
You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.
He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.
You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.
“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.
The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-
You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.
It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.
Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.
He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.
He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.
His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.
“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”
He doubles down and you’re a goner.
The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-
Which reminds you.
Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.
You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.
”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.
He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.
When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”
You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-
When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.
“Who said I’m done?”
You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”
“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”
His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.
“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.
It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.
“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.
Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.
You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.
It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.
It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.
You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.
“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.
“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”
When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.
“Please” you wail instead “please”
The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.
Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.
You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.
It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.
You’re so in love.
“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”
Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.
You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back
“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.
Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.
When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.
He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.
He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.
You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.
“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.
“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.
The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…
It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.
“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”
You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”
He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.
Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.
You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.
———
Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.
He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.
There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.
He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.
It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.
Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.
Minds his own business.
So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.
Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!
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And of course, Witch does notice him. She probably kind of hates him at first for always disrupting her prayers with his languid, confident footsteps as he enters her house under the guise of asking for a very specific remedy. She hates the way her stomach twists every time she sees his rugged face. She hates the way her mind goes blank for a second when his soft, yet commanding voice echoes in her ears.
And she despises how she can’t help but silently gush at every single one of his gifts. How she always puts them in places she just knows she will always see them, and how comforting their sight is. How she feels her gaze soften even just a little bit when he breathes a sigh of relief as she bandages his wounds an massages his sore muscles. How her shoulders suddenly feel heavy with worry every time he tells her he is about to leave for another expedition, barely managing to steel her voice when she tells him to come back in one piece (after all, it’s always a nightmare to rummage through the heavy northern snow to find the ingredients needed to take care of big injuries). How she immediately goes to ask the Gods to watch over him, her hands clutching the necklace he once gifted her.
And, most of all, she loathes the way she loves him, her mind distracting her with many thoughts of him when she has to tend to her duties. She is down bad, and he is too. It’s only a matter of time before they both crumble in each other’s arms under the delectable tension these feelings weave in between them.
Just a little headcanon. Mii is inspired. We love characters who can fit in multiple AUs.
Mii do you wanna just take over for me because holy shit. I literally sat up and rolled my shoulders let's fucking go, I gotta write some fic, I'm inspired but I don't think I can match that because GOD. The mutual pining.
There are small things you do to prepare for men to come home. There are big things too, of course, you bind winds with your staff, you ask the gods for protection, you bless the wives with their husband's safe return. But the small things... You change out the furs you wear, return the silky pelts to their usual hanging place so you don't seem too fond of the man that gifted them. The same with your buckles, your brooches, your necklace. You twist a thin silver band around your finger, like a branch from a willow tree it always strikes you as too delicate to come from a viking. There's no filigree to it, not stones, no patterns, it's simple and well loved.
You do these small things because you loathe the man they represent. He's a distraction from your duties, he clouds your judgement, pulls the spirits from you. He watches you with such bare affection in his eyes that you wonder how it would be to be his wife. How it would feel to wake up every morning to those hands cradling you. Only to have him leave you, the same way he always does.
The gods whisper to you as you sit in front of their alter. Dissonant, clouded by the spirits that guard their realm. Chills wrack your body, your mind far away, drifting through the different planes searching for some new prophecy or vision that might keep your man somewhere closer. (They come to you in dreams, and tell you of new lands, new people, force you on to the elders and tell them to send out a party. You'll never be free of this awful wanting.)
The spirits pull your head back, arch your back painfully to look at the intruder in your temple. "You're always in such a rush to get back here," They tell him, voices overlapping, "is she really so special to you?"
"Of course," Price breathes, his shoulders heaving to compensate for his run to the temple from the shore. His feet carrying his heavy body to stand behind you, what are a few steps when you're at the end of them? He watches as you jerk forward and spit henbane seeds from your mouth, coughing and sucking in breaths to shake the trance. He crouches, his hands reaching for your shaking form. Völva don't live long if there's no one to care for them. It's the spirits, the elders say, no living creature can hold the dead without joining them a little each time.
Your fingers scrape the floor, nails digging into the wood and furs that surround the alter. Hands touch your back, familiar enough to make you shiver and tip your head to look at the man you always send so far away from you.
"Welcome back," He tells you, his voice so soft it feels like a blow. You look away from him, fix your eyes on the carved wood of Freyja's statue.
"I should be telling you that."
Price hums, his hands leave you. It's freezing without their warmth. You're frozen without his warmth, doomed to this until it takes you the way it takes every völva. Stuck, until Hel calls you home. You hate this man, you shouldn't love him the way you do. He shouldn't entertain your affections the way he does. He shouldn't encourage them.
"I brought you something." His furs rustle behind you as you collect yourself. You hear the leather cord of a pouch open and you sit up with a sigh. When he doesn't follow up or press anything into your hands you turn to ask him what he's brought. He presses a berry against your lips and like a fool you take it. It's a slightly bitter burst on your tongue, crushed gently by your teeth into something almost sweet. You eye the pouch in his hands, the bright red and orange berries inside. You feel yourself soften a little, smiling when you meet his affectionate stare.
"Rowan berries," You half ask, your voice feels lighter, gentler, "Thank you." It sticks like a knife in his chest. Something so simple makes you look at him like that, like coming home. Gods what he wouldn't do for you.
He's never seen you use any of his other gifts, doesn't even know if you've kept them. Price had thought something edible would go over well, easier to make sure you were satisfied with it. You reach for another berry out of the bag, the thin strip of silver around your finger glinting in the firelight. His ring. The first thing he'd gifted you, when he'd been overcome by the need to have any foothold in your life. You look up at him through your lashes, pop another red berry in your mouth with a questioning hum.
"Are you alright?" You ask, deft fingers reaching to inspect him, "You're not injured are you?" The concern in your voice might kill a weaker man, surely no one can hold up under your care. Not when you look at them like that.
"No," Price chokes out, gritting his teeth as your fingers brush his skin, "No injuries to report, we've got a healer now so-"
"You don't need me?" You smile when you say it, like a joke, but there's sorrow in your eyes. Price can't stop himself from cupping your face, your soft skin under his rough hand is intoxicating. It makes his heart clench painfully. Can't you see he's trying to ease your burden? Are you truly so wrapped up in völva that you've lost sight of any other value you might have?
"What would I do without you sweetheart?" He whispers. There's a pain in your eyes he can't name. It hurts to see you turn away from his hand. To see you smooth your hands over your dress as you stand, offer him your hand to help him up. You smile, some mask closing off your eyes from him.
"Well, we might as well go and greet the men," You pull on your duties like a well worn cloak, more völva than person when you pluck your staff from the ground, "do our jobs for the elders."
It's a reminder to both of you. The spirits aren't the only ones that keep their eyes on you. Price nods, and follows you out of the temple, pressing the pouch into your hands as he goes.
#I know I said there's no magic in the viking au#but völva!reader/Witch can have a little spooky magic#as a treat#cod x reader#x reader#cod x oc#x oc#oc: witch#captain john price#john price#captain john price x reader#john price x oc#john price x reader#john price mw2#captain price cod#captain price mw2#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x oc#f!reader#original female character#price x witch#they're so down bad for each other#absolutely heartbreaking these two dumbasses can't talk to each other about their feelings#viking!price#viking au#völva!witch
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dairy farmer!Sevika plowing her strawberry farmer wife? 😣
(outside sex maybe 👀)
YESSSS i love them (read part 1 here!)
men and minors dni
sevika moved you into her house about a week into you guys dating.
over the years, you and sevika slowly converted your old house to a little shop, where you sell jams and strawberries and eggs and honey and mead, and sevika sells wool and sweaters and milk and cheese.
you guys got married on your one year anniversary.
sure, it's fast, but you and sevika had been friends for years before dating, and you were both certain that you were soulmates.
it's been paradise ever since.
sure, you still have every day headaches.
the sheep are just as rambunctious as ever, escaping whenever they find a fault in sevika's fencing. you have good and bad harvest seasons, some years, the strawberries are just a little more tart than usual.
but, overall, you're happy.
especially in moments like this.
sevika finds you in your strawberry patch, helping the vines climb up their trellises, sneaking a few berries for yourself as a snack.
you smile the second you see her approaching.
she's got some dirt on her cheek, her overalls muddy, a little puff of wool in her hair. you laugh as she approaches you, reaching up to wipe the dirt from her cheek and brush the wool out of her hair.
"hi, hot stuff." you say. sevika grins, wrapping her arms around your waist.
"hi sweet thing." she replies, swooping in for a kiss. you giggle against her, and she swipes her tongue out to lick your lips.
"you taste like strawberries." she says.
"that's so unusual!" you say. she snorts and rolls her eyes.
"fuck off." she says, not pulling away from you in the slightest. you smirk at her.
"what's up?" you ask. you assume she's tracked you down for some help wrangling the sheep-- it is shearing season, afterall, and it tends to be a two man job. sevika smirks at you.
"i'm all done for the morning." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her. "was wondering if you needed any help over here." she says. you give her a skeptical look.
"you were, huh?" you ask, knowing just how boring sevika finds your strawberry plants. she giggles guiltily.
"well..." she says, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand to her crotch. you gasp, realizing sevika's strapped up, then grin. "there might've been other reasons i came to see you." she says. you laugh.
"i can see that." you say, slowly palming her bulge. a blush works up her cheeks as you tease her. "'d you put this on this morning or 'd you just slip it on now?" you ask. sevika smirks.
"saw you bendin' over about fifteen minutes and got struck with inspiration." she says.
you burst into laughter, tugging sevika in to kiss her again. she hums, her hands trailing down to palm your ass.
you reach up to undo the straps of her overalls, letting the top fall down, sneaking your hands up her wife pleaser to palm her tits. she hums against you.
"so?" she asks, pulling away with a gasp. you smile.
"not on the strawberries. i'm not crushing any more plants because your horny ass couldn't wait until we got outta the field." you say. sevika just laughs, then ducks down to hoist you over her shoulder.
you squeal as she jogs out of your strawberry patch, setting you down under the willow tree on the edge of your property, pinning you against it, tugging at your jeans.
she gets you naked in a flash, tripping over herself as she tries to pull her overalls off over her boots. you laugh and reach out to steady her, and she smiles shyly up at you.
"thanks, baby." she says. you smile and lean forward to kiss her nose.
"i'm not puttin' my bare ass on the muddy ground, y'know." you say. sevika laughs.
"i figured. princess." she teases. you roll your eyes.
"just 'cause i don't like wrestling in the dirt with the sheep doesn't mean--"
sevika cuts you off with a kiss, pushing you back against the trunk of the tree. you sigh, slinging your arms over her shoulders.
"i love you." sevika mumbles against your lips, nipping you when you open your mouth to respond. you huff and push at her shoudlers and she pulls away with a smile.
"i love you too." you say. sevika melts, her head falling forward to rest her forehead against yours. you push at her shoulders, getting her to kneel, and open your legs. "now get me wet." you command.
sevika grins as she kneels, not caring about the mud dirtying her knees, and hooks one of your legs over her shoulder, wasting no time diving forward to eat you out.
"oh, fuck." you whimper, leaning back against the trunk of the tree as you grab her hair. sevika hums against you, sucking on your clit, before leaning down to work her tongue inside you, her nose grinding against your clit. "you got such a good mouth, baby." you say. sevika smirks up at you and you laugh down at her. "couldn't help yourself, huh?" you ask. "'y had me this morning-- it's only been a few hours." you say. she laughs against you.
"yeah, but that was my fingers. didn't get to taste you. didn't get to get my cock inside you." she says. you shiver, and sevika presses another kiss against your clit. "plus, you know i like fuckin' outside." she says. you laugh.
"i know."
it's something about the thrill-- you're both the only people on your property, and the chance that someone will ever catch you is nearly impossible, but it is invigorating to feel the wind blow against your naked body, to hear the distant bleating of sevika's sheep, the sound of your ducks quaking in the pond.
sevika's got you close-- your thigh shaking against her face, and she grins up at you, before shoving your leg off her shoulder and jumping to her feet.
"you ready?" she asks, her fingers probing your cunt, feeling how wet you are. you nod, desperate to get her inside you.
"yeah." you say. sevika spits in her palm, then holds it out for you to spit on it too. it gives you butterflies, despite how gross it is, and sevika seems to know it, if the sweet little smile she gives you is anything to go by as she jerks her cock off with her wet hand.
"how do you want it?" she asks. you roll your eyes.
sevika knows how you want it-- it's the same way you always want it when she's fucking you outside. she just laughs and waits for you to answer with an eyebrow raised.
"c'mon sev." you pout, tugging her toward you. she doesn't move, waiting to hear the words from your lips. "fucker." you curse her. she laughs.
"i could spin you around, bend you over?" she offers. you huff and flick her forehead. "or maybe you want to ride me while i lay on the ground?" she asks.
"pick me up." you whisper. sevika smirks.
"oh, yeah?" she asks, like this isn't how she does it every time. "want me to pin you to the tree? fuck you against it?" she asks. you gulp and nod.
"yes." you say. sevika grins.
"and why's that?" she asks. you groan.
"sevika!" you cry.
"tell me." she demands. you roll your eyes, and regret ever telling your wife your dirty secrets.
"i like how strong you are." you whisper. sevika licks her upper teeth, a predatory glint in her eye as she gets in your space, pinning you to the trunk.
"yeah?" she asks. "turns you on?" she asks. you huff.
"i'm never telling you anything again." you say.
sevika just laughs as she grabs your thighs, lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. you sigh, clinging to your wife.
"you ready?" she asks, thrusting her strap through your folds. you bite your lip and nod.
"yeah." you whisper. sevika looks up at you to give you a quick kiss, before she looks down between your bodies, slowly guiding her strap inside you.
you sigh, satisfaction flooding your senses as sevika fills you, her body surrounding you, her grip on your thighs bruising. "love you." sevika groans as her hips meet yours. you smile.
"love you too." you whisper.
sevika starts fucking you slowly, timing her thrusts to her deep breaths, intermittently pausing to press a kiss to your lips.
"fuck." you groan. "you're so good." you say. sevika smiles.
"you are too." she says. you snort.
"i'm not really doin' any work." you say. sevika chuckles, ducking down to bite at your tits. you whimper.
"you're doing all the work-- looking good enough to fucking eat-- distracting the shit outta me-- you knew what you were doing wearing those tiny shorts." she says.
"you set my clothes out for me this morning!" you laugh.
sevika just smirks. "i'm fucking brilliant."
she keeps her slow pace-- not wanting to scratch your back up against the bark behind you.
it's a lazy fuck, the day's still young, there's still some dew on the shady parts of your property, and you and sevika have nowhere else to be.
she pauses her thrusting several times just to kiss you.
you scratch at her scalp, loving the way she purrs in your hold.
"fuck." she whispers against you. you hum.
"you close?" you ask. she nods.
"'re you?" she asks. you nod.
"wanna cum with you." you say. her hands on your thighs grip you harder, and she huffs.
"i love you so much." she says. you smile.
"love you too sev." you say, your hand coming down to rub your clit as she continues to fuck you.
sevika starts to whimper the closer she gets, and the sounds drive you fucking crazy, your thighs shaking against her waist.
"oh, shit." you moan. "fuck, i'm gonna--"
"me too." she grunts. "you first." she whispers. you shake your head, focusing on your impending orgasm. "c'mon baby, cum on this cock." she grunts. "fuck-- i can feel you clenchin', i know you're almost there. wanna feel you cum around me." she says.
you gasp and shiver, cumming silently, your nails digging into sevika's shoulders.
"there you go, pretty thing, f-fuck, you look so fuckin' good, shit!" she gasps as she follows you over the edge.
sevika catches her breath against you, and you nuzzle against her shoulder while the world stops spinning.
"fuck, that never gets old." sevika laughs. you snort.
"we should at least do it against a different tree next time." you say. she laughs.
behind her, a suspiciously loud 'baa' sounds out. you lift your gaze to look over her shoulder and groan when you see a few of sevika's sheep wandering over to your field.
"sevika!" you scold, smacking her shoulder. she gently sets you back onto your feet before turning and laughing at the sight of her sheep congregating around your strawberries. "you didn't close the fence?!" you ask. she shrugs.
"was kinda distracted, honey, sorry." she says, pulling her overalls back on. you giggle, helping button her back up, before dressing yourself.
"go get your sheep." you demand. she swoops forward to press a kiss to your lips and you pinch her side.
"you gonna watch?" she asks. you roll your eyes and bite back a smile.
"duh." you whisper as she struts off to wrangle the first sheep, her biceps glistening in the morning sun.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki
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3 months and counting
[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]
cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk
The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.
Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.
The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.
Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.
How long has it been? He wonders.
Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.
Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.
He misses you.
On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.
For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.
It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.
The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.
The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.
“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.
What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.
Gone… all gone, far too soon.
“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.
Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”
You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”
“Hey,” he whined.
You beamed up at him. “I love you.”
How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.
“I love you too.”
God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?
It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.
He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.
Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.
The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.
3 months.
It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.
Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.
Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”
“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”
He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.
Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”
Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.
The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”
There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.
“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”
Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.
He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.
“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.
“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.
Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.
Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.
His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.
“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.
There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.
He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.
Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.
He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.
The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.
Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.
The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.
Then it all went dark.
✩ ·┆ masterlist
notes—
— this was fun to write
© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate
#[💫] acaaai-t#astronetwrk#genshin impact#genshin#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#genshin scaramouche x reader#genshin impact scaramouche#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche
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cough syrup
warning : mentions violence and cursing
sypnosis : secrets can kill
poly!marauders x female!reader
"okay boys how do i look?" you posed like a model in your floral dress, giggling.
sirius dropped his book and gave an overdramatic gasp, walking towards you, "absolutely stunning bunny." he picked you, causing you to yelp.
"put me down!" you giggled.
"how can i when you are so beautiful?' he rose you higher.
james looked about you both with a giddy smile as sirius put you down, "and jamesie, how do you think i look?" you inched closer to him, climbing on his bed in your best impression of sexy.
"i think you are the fucking sexiest thing on the planet." he replied, smiling as you kissed him on the lips.
"what about me?" sirius frowned as you giggled, pulling off of james.
you walked to sirius, both your lips meeting once you approach him. he began to grab onto your ass as you pulled away, "you know we can't, you have an important practice tonight and you know that you need all your stamina." you joked, patting on the chest.
sirius sighed, "y/n, we have been over this, i have infinite stamina." he said as you laid on remus's bed.
"who are you fooling padfoot?" james replied, barking laughing.
sirius side-eyed him, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it at james as james replied but throwing it back which turned into a full blown pillow fight.
you laughed at both of your boyfriends childish antics and began reading a book, still hearing james and sirius's bickering.
it all came to a stop when you heard the door open to see remus standing there.
he was currently in a bad mood like he did some months and it was like walking on eggshells. you quickly put down your book, sitting up immediately.
you walked over to him, pecking him on the lips as he grabbed the back of your head, kissing you roughly.
you blushed in his hold, separating from him.
"how was your day remmy?" you beamed as he sat down on his bed.
he had dark circles under his eyes, and he had this look that made you shiver. he was the most intimidating person you could see and you knew that one wrong sentence would become hell for you.
"could've been better." he grunted.
sirius and james looked at eachother in worry. if he was in a bad mood now, the night will be even more awful for them.
remus was usually only bad after the full moon but this time was different, he was grumpy before.
you gave him a light kiss on the cheek, trying to show how bad you felt for him.
"well i have to study with lily for slughorn! will catch all of you later." you kissed them all individually.
"but-" james protested.
"love you guys!" you said in a rush as you went out the door.
little did they know, you planned to figure out where they were going all those late nights. they would tell you it was late quidditch practice to strengthen their weaknesses but you could tell that clearly wasn't true.
they would come back all battered and bruised and just tell you that they were 'playing too rough.'
they would usually disappear during dinner, not showing up but you were determined to figure it out.
you wondered if they had a secret fight club or gambled. the only realistic options in your head, i mean what else could they have been doing?
when it was dinner, you couldn't find them anywhere.
it was as if they were invisible, you had previously waited for them to leave their room but they never did.
which caused you to wander around the castle, trying to find where they were without getting caught.
the last place you thought would have to be impossible. there was no way they would wander in the forbidden forest.
but then again, they were the most reckless people you knew.
so you were willing to look for them in there, i mean it wasn't harmless if you didn't wander in areas unknown.
you moved quickly, trying not to get caught. you went towards the whomping willow, staying far enough for the tree to not spot you.
after making your way past, you happened to spot the most beautiful view of the moon you had ever seen. suddenly, a stag ran past you, causing you to flinch.
a dog suddenly appeared in front of you, blocking you from something you couldn't spot it.
you could hear the squeaks of a rat and you turned back to see the stag in pain, a cut across its hip.
suddenly, you heard a howl that made you shiver. you turned to look where the dog was looking and saw something creep out of the shadow.
it was a werewolf.
and it was staring right at you, foaming at the mouth.
the dog began barking rapidly and the stag started to get up with a limp.
the stag began sprinting at the wolf as the dog looked at you, barking as if it knew you and was telling you to go.
you began running back to the castle as you heard something chasing you ten times faster. you felt a deep pain your leg as you fell down on the leaves.
there was a deep claw mark on your thigh, causing you to hiss in pain. the werewolf was looking at you, growling as you slowly tried to get back up.
you got back up, inching towards a tree as you kept your eyes on the werewolf.
the werewolf suddenly lunged at you, causing you to bring your arm up. it felt as if your lungs had been crushed by the impact of the tree. you tried to make a sudden fast movement towards a safe place.
this caused the werewolf to bite onto the middle of your arm, you had never felt so much pain.
you began screaming quite loudly as the stag head banged the werewolf causing it to be pushed into a tree.
the dog quickly chased after the both of them, trying to gain control of the werewolf.
you began crying so hard that the tears were blocking your eyes. your arm was a ghastly sight that shocked you so greatly.
you began to regain sight of what was happening, getting up and limping towards the castle as you did once before in the fastest way that you could.
you couldn't make it far before you fell down on the ground. you were on your backside and looked up at the sky to see the beautiful night sky, the moon decorating it so finely.
you could hear lots of commotion near you but you didn't have any more strength to see what was happening.
a tear rained down your cheek as your eyes slowly closed.
and it was all dark for now.
#bestfriend!james#bestfriend!james potter#james potter smut#james smut#marauders#marauders era smut#james potter#marauders era#marauders smut#marauder x reader#james potter x reader#james x reader#james x you#james potter x you#the marauders#the marauders smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin smut#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#james potter fanfic#James Potter#sirius black fanfic#Sirius Black#Remus Lupin#hp smut#harry potter#james potter x y/n#hogwarts#singmyaubade
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ABBA Marathon
masterlist
pairing: father sirius black x daughter reader
warnings: like one curse word, tooth rotting fluff, sirius being an icon, literally just a very fun read that i hope has you smiling in your bed
summary: you meet sirius, play chess with sirius, and have an abba singing and dance party with sirius (sirius meeting his daughter post azkaban - requested by anon)
a/n: im so obsessed with this idk i wish sirius was my dad, also sorry this has been in my inbox for so long
song: waterloo - abba
Being Sirius Black's daughter was quite tiring. But also thrilling. Especially since it was your third year when he escaped Azkaban.
Your best friends are Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You couldn't have asked for better ones.
With the rumors of Sirius coming after you and Harry, people had been cold towards you because of your father, not that you could control who your father was.
Right now you were outside, taking a walk in some fresh air. Suddenly a dog comes up to you and barks once. "Why, hello there," you coo and bend down. The dog happily wags his tail and jumps onto her. "Aww, you're so cute!"
You pet the dog, who leans into your hand. "You are very skinny," you frowned. "Follow me, I'm sure Hagrid has some food I can give you."
As you two head down, you get near the Whomping Willow. As you pass by, the dog suddenly spins and before you could blink the dog was biting your pants, tugging you to the tree.
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Dog, but these are new pants." You then get very close to the tree, "Er- I don't think this is a good idea," you say nervously as the branches of the tree start to move.
The dog looks up in alert and quickly tugs you into some type of hole that they slid down into. "Ah!" The dog jumps up and pulls on your pants again. "Where are we going?"
Finally, you come into an empty abandoned room. "What is this place..."
You walk over and pick up a dusted book, blowing on the cover before putting it back down. You turn around and her eyes go wider than they've ever been. "AHH!" you scream.
"AHH!"
"AHH!"
"SHH!"
You cover your mouth and stare at the one and only Sirius Black.
Your father.
"What the fuck," you whisper to yourself. "Oh my Merlin, I'm too young to die! I- I haven't gotten to slap Malfoy yet, I haven't been able to prank Snape! I ha-"
"Prank Snape?" Sirius pipes up.
"I'm going to die. Oh, Godric," you pace while frantically whispering to yourself. "I'm in the same room with Sirius Black, alone."
He frowns at being called by his name instead of Dad, which it should be.
"Relax, love, I'm not going to kill you."
You spin and face the man, "You're not?"
"No."
"Then why am I here? For giggles and a tea party?"
"One, you're about to find out. Two, I don't like tea," Sirius makes a face.
"Huh, me neither. Now, go on, tell me why I'm in an abandoned room with an escaped convicted murderer," you cross your arms.
"I'm not a murderer. I'm innocent, I swear."
You narrow her eyes, "How so?"
"Well, it started when I first got to Hogwarts..."
You wipe the tears from under your eyes, "That is the saddest thing I have ever heard."
Sirius waves his hand, "Now that you know what happened, you believe me right?"
"Of course!" You throw her arms around the man, who relaxes into his daughters hold. It's been a long time since he has had human contact.
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you can't tell anyone about me just yet."
"Why?! If I tell them you're inno-"
He smiles sadly, "I'm not so sure they would believe you."
"But-" Sirius shakes his head. You sigh, "Well, are you going to be staying here?"
He nods, "I guess. It's a bit dirty though, if you ask me."
"I can fix that," you grin. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. You takes out your wand and flick it. The room starts moving and the dust all collects together before flying out the window. The furniture vanishes and new ones appear. Pictures form on the wall and the room cleans up into a brand new, clean room.
"Wow, impressive. Thank you," Sirius says. You nod and flick your wrist again. In the blink of an eye, Sirius is freshly cleaned and looks well taken care of. His eyes almost water at your kindness. "I truly can't thank you enough."
"That's better, isn't it?" You smile proudly at your work. "Oh! You need food," you think for a moment, "I'll just bring you down daily meals."
"I can't ask you to do that, it's too much."
"It's a good thing you don't have to ask. You mentioned your friend... Remus Lupin." Sirius nods and gestures for you to continue, "He's a Professor this year... anyway, is he a..."
"A...?"
"Werewolf," you say hesitantly.
Sirius' face goes a bit pale, "What makes you think that?"
"His boggart was a moon, and he has lots of light scars."
"Would it change your opinions about him?"
"Not at all! If anything I think it makes him even better." Sirius nods his head. "Yes... he's a werewolf?"
He nods again, "You're a bright witch."
"Thank you," you beam. You looks at your watch, "I have about twenty minutes before my friends start looking for me. In the meantime.... Wizard's Chess?"
"Yes! Checkmate!" You jump up from your seat in excitement. "I won!"
"That's not fair! You only won because I'm rusty," Sirius crosses his arms and sinks into the couch.
"Sure, sure. Rematch tomorrow?" you ask.
"Rematch tomorrow," you two shake hands and you go to the exit.
"I'll bring you some food in a little while."
"Bye, darling," he waves, watching you leave.
A few weeks later, you were on your daily trip to see Sirius. You snuck in through the Whomping Willow, you also learned how to avoid the branches.
"Hello?!" you shout.
"Over here!"
You follow his voice and see him digging through a closet. "What are you looking for?"
"I- that's... a good question." He stands up and clears his throat, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"It has come to my attention that you recently made an appearance in the castle."
"Mhm."
"And you didn't inform me about it beforehand," you gives him a blank stare.
"I wanted to, but it took a while to plan and I wanted it to be a surprise," he grins with jazz hands.
"You do realize that I could have helped you in, right?"
"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk you getting in trouble," he frowns.
"I appreciate your concern," you salute him and he does it back with a chuckle.
"What's in the bag?" He nods to the one hanging on your arm.
"This, my furry father-"
"That was a horrible joke."
"-Is a record player!" You excitedly pull it out of the bag and place it on a table.
"A what?"
"A record player. It plays music. Want to see?!"
"As if I would say no to music."
You reach into the bag and take out some vinyl records. "I picked ones that I think you would enjoy best. There is a supergroup that I thought you would really like. They're called ABBA. They're one of my favorites."
You set up the record player and place one of the vinyls in. You grin at the man as you hit the play button.
"YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE! HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE! SEE THAT GIRL, WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"
You and Sirius continue to shout the lyrics into your fake microphones as you hop around the room with the song blasting. When the room was first set up by you, you placed several privacy and silencing spells, so you two didn't have to worry about anyone hearing anything.
"YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN-"
"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME CHASE THE SHADOWS AWAY?" you sing while bouncing on the couch.
"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! TAKE ME THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE BREAK OF THE DAY!" Sirius continues as he walks and dances as if he were on a stage.
"MAMMA MIA, HERE I GO AGAIN! MY, MY, HOW CAN I RESIST YOU?"
"MAMMA MIA, DOES IT SHOW AGAIN! MY, MY, JUST HOW MUCH I'VE MISSED YOU?"
Sirius and you hold hands as you jump together and flip your hair with matching goofy grins.
"YES, I'VE BEEN BROKENHEARTED! BLUE SINCE THE DAY WE PARTED!"
"WHY, WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"
"BUT NOW IT ISN'T TRUE! NOW EVERYTHING IS NEW!" you grab your wand to create two pairs of light up sunglasses, you toss one to Sirius and you both put them on.
"AND ALL I'VE LEARNED HAS OVERTURNED! I BEG OF YOUUU!" Sirius sings.
"DON'T GO WASTING YOUR EMOTION! LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON MEEEE!" you shout together.
With a flick of your wrist, you - much to Sirius' surprise - somehow managed to have a disco ball with neon lights come from the ceiling.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit in the Gryffindor common room.
"I wonder what she's doing right now," Harry looks thoughtfully.
"She's been leaving a lot recently," comments Hermione, biting nervously on her nail.
"I hope she's okay," says Ron, "Sirius Black could be out there."
"LAST NIGHT I WAS TAKING A WALK ALONG THE RIVER, AND I SAW HIM TOGETHER WITH A YOUNG GIRL!"
"AND THE LOOK THAT HE GAVE HER MADE ME SHIVER! 'CAUSE HE ALWAYS USE TO LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!" Sirius grabs your hand and twirls you, causing you to laugh.
"AND I THOUGHT, MAYBE I SHOULD WALK RIGHT UP TO HER AND SAY 'AH-HA-HA, IT'S A GAME HE LIKES TO PLAYYY!" you and Sirius shimmy dance to each other.
You jump and freeze before breaking out in another dance and sing the chorus. "LOOK INTO HIS ANGELEYES, ONE LOOK AND YOU'RE HYPNOTISED! HE'LL TAKE YOUR HEART AND YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE!"
"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE!"
"THE FEELING IN IT, SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"DO I REALLY SEE WHAT'S IN HER MIND, EACH TIME I'M CLOSE TO KNOWING, SHE KEEPS ON GROWING!"
"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"SOMETIMES I WISH THAT I COULD FREEZE THE PICTURE!"
"AND SAVE IT FROM THE FUNNY TRICKS OF TIME!"
Sirius and you wrap an arm around each other's waist as they sway to the music.
"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERSSSSS!"
Sirius then starts pretending like he's playing the guitar to the music making your giggle.
You and Sirius fall back, panting, onto the couch. Sirius turns to you and gives you a high five.
"Oh my Merlin! That was the most fun I had in forever!"
"Me too, kid. Thank you. I don't know the last time I felt like that."
"You're welcome," you bumps his shoulder. "Oh! And you can keep everything, I have my own."
"Really?"
"Mhm, I'll bring you more vinyls I have. We can have more singing and dancing parties like this."
"I'm looking forward to it." He looks at a watch you got him, "I think it may be time for you to head back."
You look in a mirror on the wall, "My hair is messy from flipping it."
"I can help you with it, if you want," he smiles at you.
"Really?" He nods. "Thanks!"
Sirius gets up and grabs a brush, you turn on the couch so he is behind you as he brushes through your hair. "I'm going to try to do that braid you taught me."
"Here's a hair tie," you take one off your wrist.
He struggles at first but manages to do a good, tight braid. "Done!" Sirius claps his hands.
You look in the mirror, "Wow, you have a good teacher."
He shrugs, "Meh, she's alright." You slap the back of his head, "Okay, okay! Not the hair! Okay, I have the best teacher."
You nod happily and grab your bag, "Bye, Dad."
"See you soon, y/n," he winks.
#nina writes 🤭💗#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black fanfiction#harry potter x you#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#dad sirius black#fluff#abba#oneshot#harry potter oneshot#sirius black oneshot#hogwarts#sirius black daughter#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#sirius orion black#harry#ron#hermione#shrieking shack#the whomping willow
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Pre-Girl Dad!Eris with Pregnant Reader
Guys, I just had this thought to do a mini drabble of what Eris was like when you were pregnant with your babes, Marwa and Twila!
Eris was initially terrified when he found out you were pregnant. He walked in on you changing and just paused at the door, eyes wide open and jaw on the floor as the change in your scent flooded his senses
He didn't want to fuck things up with his own babes. He is deeply terrified of turning out like his father and it takes a couple weeks of reassurance from you that he is going to be the best father to your babes
The final nail in the head for him is when he feels the babes kicking in your swollen belly while he rests his head, and murmurs down stories at the babes
We all know Eris swore left and right that he would be fine with any gender, as long as the babe is healthy… we all know he constantly reassured you he had no expectations for whether he was expecting a girl or boy.
We all also know that he secretly prayed to the mother and gods for the entirety of your pregnancy that it would be a girl babe that looks exactly like you and is exactly like you.
I think you were blessed with no experiences of morning sickness, but Eris suffered nausea for the first trimester of your pregnancy. He always claimed it was him stealing any sort of pain you could possibly experience for himself to save you, but you know it’s because the poor male was anxious
Protection spells galore. He has Helion teach him every sort of shielding spell in the books and even out of the books. Surprisingly, the people of Autumn are really good with charm magic, and so, Eris brought you an anklet with little willow tree charms that he had spelled for protection. He insisted you wear it the entirety of your pregnancy.
Any pregnancy cravings you experienced had Eris jumping out of bed at 3 in the morning to go to the kitchen so he could cook for you himself. And if it was something restaurant specific, he was going to the homes of the chefs and bakers, promising them bucket loads of money if they were to make whatever you were craving
Foot massages daily, your feet were swollen from carrying your babes, and at the time, you didn’t even know you were carrying two. No wonder your ankles were the sizes of apples. Eris constantly had you resting your feet in his lap, massaging at the skin delicately. He constantly had a little stool around that he could rest under your feet so they would be raised instead of hanging on the floor
This male spent hours designing the nursery, he wanted everything to be perfect for his perfect babe. He worked hand in hand with different carpenters and artisans to create everything that was in the room, part of it with his own hands.
Eris bought tons and tons of children’s books. He created a wall of book shelves in the nursery filled with books because he wanted to spend hours reading to his babes.
Constant cuddles with you. Your scent is so soothing to him, and he is constantly resting his warm hands on the swell of your belly, rubbing it in circles and pushing in every so often to feel the babe kick back at him.
Sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night to Eris resting his head on your belly, whispering stories of his life and promises to protect and love his babe no matter what. Promises to be the best papa he could be. Promises to shower the babe and you with love and affection, promising only happiness.
Anytime he came back from being away, he would kiss you deeply before getting down on his knees to rub and kiss your belly, “hello little love, papa missed you,” smiling as a little foot pushed at his lips
In your final trimester of pregnancy, Eris bought you a cottage by the sea as a thank you for giving him the best life, for giving him love and happiness he couldn’t have ever imagined.
The autumn midwives are able to use magic that allows for you to listen to the babes heartbeats, and Eris cried the first time (and every time after) he heard it
Hours upon hours of searching for baby names. You went through books and myths and meeting people and reviewing history to find the perfect names for the babe. Constant debating with the stubborn lordling on what his perfect babes name should be.
While the babe is in your stomach, he settles for “squish” and “little love.”
“Hello my little love”
“What’s my little squish thinking about in there?”
“Why are you kicking your mama squish?”
“Can you believe your mama is eavesdropping on our conversations little love? What a busy body she is… that’s okay, we still love her more than we can describe, right little love?”
I’m weak
Also when you finally give birth to not just one, but two girls???
First off, Eris nearly passed out from the shock.
Second off, he was sobbing as the babes were laid down on your chest, smothering you with kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, thanking you over and over for the best thing that has ever happened to him.
And when he held his babes for the first time? He felt complete.
Some NSFW stuff (really not a lot) so MDNI 18+ only
Your scent is absolutely soothing to him later on during your pregnancy. Absolutely.
But those first five months????
This male was absolutely feral for you.
Like, you thought he was horny 24/7 prior to your pregnancy, think again.
Bending you over the couch before you had your belly bump, fucking you on the kitchen counter, splaying you across the floor right next to the hearth so he could devour your cunt.
It was fucking endless. Orgasm after orgasm. Climax after climax.
You could barely walk by the time he was through with you and that’s okay because he would just carry you bridal style to wherever you needed to be.
He loved grasping at your widening hips as you would ride him into oblivion
Constant palming and small squeezes at your swollen tits, he just fucking adored them.
Cumming in your cunt every time and tonguing it back in
Ugh, missing my girl dad Eris, I love him so much.
As always, please gimme some feedback with some likes, comments, and reblogs
@fieldofdaisiies
#girl dad!Eris#marwa and twila#girl dad!Eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#eris vanserra#acotar Eris#Eris acotar#Eris vanserra acotar#rose rambles
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honestly people who are insufferable about “the prank” or whatever can eat my entire ass because everyone crucifies sirius for telling snape how to get past the whomping willow but i’ve never seen anybody acknowledge what a fucking idiot snape was for meddling and willingly following somebody he assumed to be a werewolf inside a tight passage under a tree that could murder you during a full moon. what was the little bitch even trying to achieve by following remus? we know from his flashback that he had a hunch about remus being a werewolf, then he was told from a guy he hated and who hated him back the way to get past the tree and actually did what sirius said during a full moon? i’m sorry but that’s just being fucking stupid. i’m like 97% sure sirius did not even expect snape to do what he said because why on earth would he do that and if he had actually died that would have been well deserved because god knows the amount of times harry almost got himself killed by doing dumb things in the books but nothing he ever tried was quite as idiotic as this
#i did not say he’s in the right do not start putting words in my mouth assholes#did sirius force him? no#like snape quite literally walked into that himself#i’m sorry some of y’all are just very fucking insufferable#snape apologists stay away from this post and my blog#the prank#or whatever#i’ll defend sirius with my life#stop blaming him for talking shit and start blaming snape for being a fucking idiot#harry potter#sirius black#remus lupin#anti snape#anti severus snape#marauders#marauders era#rant#ish#peter pettigrew#in defence of sirius black#pro sirius black#severus snape
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i just seen ur post abt shuri things..sooo shuri angst into fluff or somethin. idk i’ve just been craving angst to somethin
— craving your comfort
⚠️ Spoilers for Wakanda Forever, angst, hurt/comfort, grief. | 🏷 Friends to lovers. WC: [2.9k] ;
The day starts bleak, hollow, and pale. It ends differently—as a matter of fact, the day takes a complete three hundred and sixty turn, but you would could never see it coming by the way it starts.
Colorless. Weighted down by everything that once was.
Not too long ago you sat by Shuri’s side as she meditated on the river, her eyes lost lightyears away to memories of her brother who now had been gone for two years, but it was nothing compared to today.
Today, Shuri laid under a willow tree, her whole body spread like a starfish, and she stared up at the sky.
You laid by her side, listening and answering her random trains of thought, doing your best to help in any way. Anyhow. The only thing that doesn’t feel wrong is this: being by her side. This is where you’re meant to be, and you know that.
She turns her head to you. “I used to think I’d always have him to help me mourn father. Then… Well. When mother said he was with the ancestors, I thought… okay. This is unfair. This will probably never fucking heal, because I’ll never allow myself to think about it long enough… but at least someone in this world understands me. At least… I have her. And she’ll always get it. And we’ll go through all the moments and stages of missing them… together.”
And now, she was gone too.
“That is the worst,” you agree.
“Isn’t it?” Shuri chuckles humorlessly. “It’s like the universe heard me and laughed at it.”
“I mean… I’m not sure on where I stand on the whole—matters of the universe stuff. But—we fought aliens. And nothing we see or experience can be measured, let alone by our standards of what’s fair or not, so…”
“Basically, we’re all lost?”
“Bast, no!” you laugh. She asked it with sarcasm, but even through it you knew better than to answer yes in moments like these. “No, no.” Nothing is lost if you’re still around. “Little things give me hope.”
There’s a loud scoff from your side. “What’s hope good for at the end of the day?”
So little time passed. So much hurt endured by just one person. You wanted Shuri wrapped in the warmest of blankets, drenched in lavender and vanilla, guarded from anything the universe could dream of throwing her way. “For the ones that are lost. I was lost years ago, and it was him, your brother, that made me think of better ways.”
“Hm. I haven’t found much use for it, if I’m being honest.”
“No? Not even when you crafted a bridge between your nation and a realm no one dreamt existed?” you make a tsk tsk, and watch as her eyebrows pierce together. “Not even when you restored the genome and re-created a herb everyone thought was lost? Or when you reinforced that Wakanda has never and will never be weakened—that our protection comes from more than herbs, or suits, but in the whole?” Without waiting for her reply, you lean your back against the tree and let out a confession. “Seeing you in that suit made me believe that better days are coming. To last longer. It made me smile, and not want to rip my eyes that see too much out of my body.”
From your peripheral vision you see Shuri’s mouth gaping at your words. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“It’s what I wanted to do before he showed up. It’s what you steered me away from.”
There are heartbeats of silence, and you wonder whether Shuri knows. If she’s heard it in your voice at some point, or if she’s seen in the way you act whenever she’s around; how your body language changes, blooms just because she’s there. If she’s noticed that you cling onto every word that falls from her lips.
You pray not.
The Panther is meant for greatness, and all your mind has is madness for the most part.
The only thing good about being gifted and weird in a nation such as yours is that you don’t end up locked away so no one has to deal or witness your marbles clicking together in ways that make sense to you and only you. You get to become someone, have a job, live a moderately normal life—befriend a Princess, only to watch her become Queen in the most brutal of ways.
“Are they always bad?” Shuri asks eventually.
So that’s where her mind was—on what yours sees. “Not always. Just… confusing, most of the time.” And impractical. Not to mention torture—when your visions drop sights such as Shuri with her lips on yours right on your lap, you find out that even when they’re really good, your gift can be bad. “It’s just—a lot.”
“I didn’t believe it for the longest time,” she whispers to you like a confession. “When mother told me about you, I laughed.” A short breath of laughter escapes her. “T’Challa told me to stop laughing at things my science couldn’t put its finger on, and I replied with ‘that’s my point, if I can’t measure it, how do I know it’s real?’”
It makes you laugh, too, but for different reasons. “Damn. And you’re supposed to be the smartest one of us all. Maybe we truly are doomed.”
“What?!” Shuri shrieks, and this time, her laughter is real. “Did you just low-key call me stupid?”
“Oh, no, no, no, no. Never. I said that even the smartest of the humans has their limits, it’s different.” Over the sound of Shuri laughing and mouthing ‘wow. wow! and I thought we were friends, wow’, you go on. “You said that if you can’t put your finger on, then it’s not real… which is pretty stupid.”
“Is it?”
“Shuri,” you laugh. “Can you measure the universe? Or time? Or feelings?”
The laughter quiets down; both of you get sucked back into the reality of it all—the grief enveloping the very ground you two are laying in.
It’s a lot to take in. You wished you could bathe her in a river and compel the water to wash away everything that hurt, but just thinking about it froze you in fear as the image of all of Shuri being dragged by a current.
“It’s all real,” you whisper.
All she can do is nod.
“I had a nightmare,” Shuri whispers into the deep silence of the woods.
It raises the hairs on your arms, so you scoot closer to her, even if you don’t touch. “Want to share?”
It takes her a few moments. Then, Shuri closes the gap between your arms, and presses the side of her body on yours. “You’ve grown fond of me these past years, right? Dunno if I wanna ruin that just yet.”
You scoff, nudging her with your elbow. “I’m pretty sure you could tell me something like ‘I’m thinking about waging war against the entire universe’ and, whilst stupid, I’d still support your ideas.”
“That’s… concerning. And kinda wholesome,” she slaps one hand over her chest, right where her heart is, and sends you a look. “Really? You would?”
The logical answer would be ‘yes, my Quern, I would do anything for you, as would any other Wakandan in this or other lands’, but your heart has sunken further down. To everyone else, she may be Shuri, Royal Highness, but to you, it goes much deeper. For some reason, what comes out instead is: “I would. If you asked me, I’d deliver.” You turn to face her, staring into her eyes. “Anything. Because you deserve everything.”
Too many emotions fly behind her eyes for tou to put a finger in any of them.
“Everything is a lot of things,” says Shuri.
“I’m aware.”
“And you’d give it to me?”
In the same heartbeat, you answer. “Without a doubt.”
The ghost of a smile forms on her face. “I might’ve lost everything…” her lips quiver, then she bites on them, breathes in, and finishes. “But I think I’m ready to admit I gained others.”
“Balance comes.” If there was one thing we could count on, it was that. “Sometimes in ways we don’t realize, but it comes.”
“I see you,” Shuri whispers.
“I see you as well, my Queen. And I—“
“No,” she interrupts. “Don’t call me that if there’s no one else around. I—My name is better.” Shuri nods along to more than just her words, and you wonder what her internal thoughts are. “I like it when you say my name.”
Fuck. And there goes your ability to say or do anything else. A nod is manageable, but you need a moment before you remember what you were going to say.
“I see you, Shuri. And I hope one day you’ll deem me someone who knows you. I’m not sure how or why I ended up with the honorable chance of being your friend, but… It warms my soul.”
Shuri's stare is almost too much.
You'd gladly drown in that 'too much'. It holds you hostage, pierces like the afternoon Sun. "You're the coolest," she whispers, then turns her look back towards the sky. "I think I've told you that by now. It's true." A small smile lands on the corner of her mouth. "Your company's all I need."
"Then you have it."
"Thanks." One of her fingers points to a tree branch. "What animal's that?" she asks you. Not because you would definitely know it—Shuri probably does too, but because of how you go on rants when talking about animals.
"Pretty sure it's an elephant shrew," you reply.
"Ah, that's true—he loved those little things. I always forgot their names, for some reason," she says, and the words fall with so much ease, that you can hear the pin drop when Shuri realizes how easily.
Loved.
"Grandma thought they were weird, but there used to be a little family of them that lived nearby the school, so she always made up these little stories whenever she saw them," you tell her.
No one else gets to hear those stories, but Shuri loves them.
"Your grandma had the foulest mouth, I can only imagine how those went," she laughs.
"Entertaining," you answer.
"Do you remember them?"
"Almost every single one. I did a top three in my head, once."
Shuri whistles, smiling at you. "Oh, I need number one."
You scoff. "That's a highly prized story, thank you very much. One has to earn that story."
"Where did this bureaucracy come from?" Shuri sasses.
"From nana herself!" your smile gets a little loose and gone when Shuri does this — staying too close, smiling at you, touching — but she seems oblivious to it. "Remember the story about the card games night? Grandma said no one living or dead knew all the things that happened in her life. That woman..."
"That woman," repeated Shuri in a tone that said Oh, I get it.
Shuri understood a lot of things, and did so better than most people. It was sort of overwhelming at times.
"You really want to know the nightmare?" Shuri asks in a whisper.
Your answer is only a nod, but Shuri sees it.
Facing her, you hear all of it.
It terrifies you, and your whole chest burns in sympathy, empathy, and second-hand grief.
Throughout the next four hours, you and Shuri discuss a bit of everything.
A slice of love, loss, grief, sadness, emptiness, the sense of being lost—the desire to scream, to sleep until the end of times, to feel alive again.
Shuri shares, and you reciprocate, and it's exhausting how many emotions you've been under through so little time.
There were tears and laughter, and tears of joy.
"Will you come with me somewhere?"
"Of course."
"It's a bit far. A hill. Deep woods, rough paths, And I want to walk there."
"That's okay, Shuri—"
"If you need something at any time just let me know. My body's different nowadays and it needs different things than yours, so just—"
"Trust me, I won't starve or die of thirst. It's almost like I know how to stay alive in 'deep dark woods'—"
"Why are you so sassy? I'm out here, trying to be nice. Trying to be cordial."
"Did you ever think of joining a theater crew? You are so over the top."
"You should've seen the scene I caused when my brother walked inside my lab with his goddamn toes out. Now, when you're done laughing, follow me, please."
The view is worth every second of the hard way up there.
At the bottom, you two still have plenty to say to each other.
The stories pile up on top of one another. You're quite sure you know more stories about King T'Challa than you do of some of your friends by now, and it's still weird to comprehend the pseudo-connection your brain has established with him through Shuri's lenses. In return, she gets to know Grandma Iriya like only you did—the pieces and parts of her she showed only to you, and that now Shuri gets to hear as well.
You ask for a pause in the middle of the hill, and Shuri sends one of her air drones to deliver some supplements.
It's quieter through the second half up, and slower, too.
It comes as a surprise that Shuri has it:
easy silence.
Real, palpable, immaculately easy.
There's no desire to fill in the gaps, and you enjoy just watching her from afar, throwing fruits you find in the path in her hair just to hear her laugh and mock you, and enjoying the tiny demonstrations she has of gadgets she's recently built when the opportunities show.
You two only talk when you sit at the big rock that marks the end of your climb.
It's a view of Wakanda you never saw before.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Shuri asks.
You two might've been quiet for a few minutes or two hours. You can't bring yourself to care about little things such as 'time'.
"This is..." perfect. Too much. I'm surrounded by blue. You look at your side, and Shuri's side profile staring right ahead makes it even harder to breathe. "Why did you bring me here?" it comes out in a whisper, and your chest feels ripped open in half—you turn back to the view, and breathe in deeply. "It's... flawless." Makes you believe in greater things. "I wish I could live here. I'd live right here."
Shuri chuckles. "Funny."
"What?"
"Heard that before," she exhales loudly, a smile still on her face as she drops her upper body on the rock and places both hands behind her neck. "C'mere. We should nap—Griot will wake us up for the sunset."
You don't need to be told twice.
It's hard to angle your body in a way it doesn't touch her, because that's what every inch of you wants to do. You lay there, a few inches separating you, and get comfortable. "What are we going to do after that?"
"Uhm..." Shuri thinks. "Go home. You want dinner? I could eat something and then absolutely pass out. I could use some company for both of those things."
"I'd love dinner. Your chef's food is amazing. Well—that's if you manage to wake me up this time."
"I always get the job done. Don't worry." Shuri's elbow nudges against your side. "Nap. We'll see the pretty sunset, eat good food, and then only wake up for tomorrow."
"Enough of today."
"Yup."
"I hope it was at least—tolerable."
"Y/n?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't know what it says, but—today was... okay." Shuri turns her head to the side, and looks at you, eyes roaming all over your face. "I've had some really terrible ones, and you made this one okay. So, thank you. And please—smack me next time you come to my lab trying to get me out of a spiral and I'm anything but the nicest person ever to you, okay? I grant you full permission. I just—I haven't listened to anybody in a while. And I listened to you this week. Which I needed to." Shuri averts her eyes. "Feels good to trust someone."
It's necessary, and they respond for themselves when they do it—your arms wrap around Shuri's shoulder so certain that they're welcome there, as if they had ever been there before.
As if your body and hers knew all along how much it felt like the last puzzle piece sliding between the others.
It was an okay day, and something 'okay' never felt like this—like living, and colors, and being so full of the consciousness of everything that is and surrounds you.
Shuri hugs back like it made sense of her, too.
Like her arms belonged around you with her face buried in your neck.
If Griot stayed quiet, you two would miss the sunset without a care in the world, too preoccupied with hugging each other for much else.
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you bring me home - matty healy
part two
pairing- matty x f!oc
wc- 3.1K
summary- following her fiancé suddenly calling off their engagement caroline daniel finds herself moving in with her brother and his best friend who she had a huge crush on as a teenager just in time for a worldwide lockdown.
For the most part since their convenient escape to the countryside Matty and George have been scarcely seen. Caroline found it quite amusing how even now after nearly twenty years of friendship that they were still joined at the hip just like they were as teenagers. The first night spent in the studio had been deeply nostalgic, the boys playing music and singing along to the tunes Matty was in charge of as they tried to distract Caroline from the dinner she was attempting to cook for the three of them.
She had found herself swaying to the beat, occasionally humming along as she sliced vegetables and stirred pots on the stove. Meanwhile her brother's high-pitched laugh reverberated through the walls at Matty's antics. They had ended up all but dragging Caroline away from her cooking despite her protests and roped her into dancing with them. Even with her initial hesitance, Caroline could admit that it had been fun. For just a few minutes her mind was free of the memories plaguing it and she could just focus on the present.
The three of them had dinner together that night and it miraculously hadn't turned to charcoal when Caroline had to abandon it per the boy's request. It was truly the only time since the breakup where she'd felt that she could get through this. In the days after that she was proven to be sorely mistaken. Matty and George had been basically locked in the studio with one of their producer friends who had turned up shortly after they did and the only way Caroline knew they were actually still alive in there was the faint humming of an electric guitar every now and then, and the wine bottles suddenly depleting.
The last thing she wanted to do was be bitter about it because George didn't have to invite her to come and stay with them, he had done because she was still his little sister and even if she was old enough to handle herself he didn't think she should have to do it alone. And yet he had been a ghost from the first full day spent at the studio.
As the days passed, Caroline's loneliness had only grown, and the walls of the countryside studio felt like they were closing in on her. Matty and George had been consumed by their work on the upcoming album, leaving her feeling isolated and forgotten. Each day blended into the next, and she longed for some company. There was only so many times she could go and sit outside under the large, low-hanging willow tree in the garden with a book before even that became mundane and repetitive. Not even the permanently hyperactive Mayhem could fully lift her spirits. The puppy was absolutely adorable but he spent most of his time with Matty and George.
Then, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the bleak, looming cloud that seemed to permanently reside over her head these days, a familiar face appeared at the studio's doorstep with his bags in hand. None other than Louis, Matty's younger brother, who Caroline used to babysit for Denise once Matty had moved out. A warm smile lit up her face as she rushed to embrace him.
"Louis! It's so good to see you, fucking hell you've grown up. What are you doing here?"
Louis grinned, hugging her back with equal enthusiasm. "Hey, Caro! Matty told me that you guys were staying up here and he invited me to join you guys."
Caroline's heart swelled with gratitude for this unexpected company. Louis had a knack for bringing joy wherever he went, and his presence was exactly what she needed. He was basically her little brother as well and she felt oddly emotional seeing him all grown up now and that he'd overtaken her in height as well.
"It's been so long since we last saw each other. Come on in! Matty and George have been buried in their work, but maybe your arrival will get them to take a break for a bit and we can all catch up."
He followed Caroline inside and as they settled in the two made idle conversation with Louis mainly sharing stories of his recent adventures. Caroline listened with genuine interest, cherishing the connection they had shared during his childhood and happy to catch up on his life. She chimed in occasionally with updates about her own life but she didn't go into much detail figuring it would only dampen her mood that she was so desperately trying to keep high.
Eventually they cracked open one of the full bottles of vodka sitting untouched in the cupboard figuring they may as well have fun while they waited for Matty and George to realise Louis was there. Both of them had attempted to text the boys, well Caroline had only messaged George because she didn't have Matty's number, but there had been no response. She had a half a mind to just barge in there and get their attention but she really didn't fancy George being in a pissy mood with her because she interrupted them. There were many instances when she'd mess with him but the one unspoken truce was when he was working on music.
It was strange to think that a month ago she had still been engaged, her life had still been on track to fit the cookie cutter standards in place for her by society and then everything had come crashing down with an unmatched force. She had known everything four weeks ago (or at least she thought she had) and yet now she felt like she knew nothing at all. Except that she was doing shots with the boy she used to babysit which felt absolutely insane because in her mind Louis was still twelve while waiting for their brothers.
"I give up," Caroline groaned after her fourth consecutive shot and the persistent radio silence from Matty and George "I'll just make us dinner and then if they join us, great."
The kitchen was small but cozy, adorned with rustic wooden cabinets and a large countertop occupied most of the space in the centre of the room. A soft, warm glow from overhead lights bathed the space in a welcoming ambiance. Caroline opened the fridge, eyes flickering over the ingredients they had. It was pitifully under stocked because she'd used most of what they had to cook for everyone throughout the week but she couldn't drive to the shop herself to get more and the boys had been hermits so she couldn't send them off either. Basically they were hopeless but she'd make do.
On the stovetop, multiple burners danced with life as pots and pans simmered and sizzled. The enticing scent of garlic and onions sautéing in a glimmering pool of olive oil filled the air.
Caroline deftly chopped colorful bell peppers, the knife gliding through them with ease. The rhythmic sound of chopping accompanied the lively melodies that were now echoing from the studio. She added diced tomatoes, their vivid red hues brightening the mixture in the pan. A sprinkle of fragrant herbs and a dash of spice transformed the dish, infusing it with an aroma that tantalized the senses.
Beside the stove, a pot of water bubbled and boiled as Caroline cooked a hearty portion of pasta. Cooking came as a second nature to Caroline, it was so instinctual to her that people often wondered why she hadn’t gone to culinary school or sought a job along those lines - and well her answer was that she loved the control she held when cooking, every decision she made was her own and not someone else’s.
As she finished the final touches, Caroline plated the pasta with the flavorful sauce that she had meticulously crafted. The vibrant colors of the dish mirrored the warmth she felt in her heart, sharing her love for cooking with the people she cared about.
Louis peered over her shoulder, eyes wide with anticipation, "Caroline, this looks incredible! You've truly outdone yourself."
Caroline's eyes sparkled with delight, and she playfully nudged Louis, "Well, I hope you enjoy it because the last time I cooked for you I’m pretty sure it was dino nuggies, right Lou?”
He nodded seriously “the peak of your cooking career I’m sure.”
That earned a laugh from Caroline, Louis hadn’t changed a bit over the years. Then she heard the click of a door opening elsewhere in the house and she had to hide the smirk that so desperately wanted to form when Matty and George suddenly appeared. Of course they’d lock themselves away for nearly a whole week and come out for the first time for food, they were so predictable.
“Nice of you both to finally join us,” Caroline snarked (albeit light -heartedly) at their rightfully sheepish presence.
“Sorry Caro,” George actually did appear regretful as Matty made a beeline for Louis. The Daniel siblings let them have their moment of privacy as Matty murmured how happy he was that Louis had made the trip out to join them.
“You’re lucky I knew you’d take a break for food and to see Louis,” Caroline pointed out “or else I wouldn’t have made any for yous.”
George didn’t look like he believed her. To be fair she understood why, she had been leaving stuff for him and Matty to eat whenever they emerged from their glorified man cave because she didn’t want them to waste away.
“This looks fucking stunning Caroline,” Matty said as he finally caught a glimpse of the dishes lining the countertop “you’ve outdone yourself.”
Caroline shrugged, she’d never been sure how to take praise from people. Especially if they happened to be someone her teenage self melted for whenever they acknowledged her existence. “When don’t I?” She settled for in the end figuring it was better to just play confident.
They gathered around the table for the first time since the very first night at the studio, this time with the welcome addition of Louis to liven the place up a bit. Conversation flowed between the four of them as did the wine that Matty had opened and poured more than generous glasses of. Moments like these were something Caroline held closely to her heart. After feeling so isolated throughout the week she had been desperately craving company and now she had it.
Throughout the night the music gradually got louder and the alcohol coursed through their veins as they returned to the open bottle of vodka after polishing off the wine faster than they’d care to admit. Caroline was probably the most sober of the bunch but even then she was fairly tipsy and she watched with amusement as Matty stumbled about the place, giggling at things that weren’t even funny and how George was further gone than she’d seen him in years. Most importantly she actually felt content, a rare and fleeting feeling for her at the moment so she intended to treasure every second of it.
The early morning light seeped through the curtains, gently illuminating the bedroom where Caroline slept soundly. Suddenly, a soft but persistent tapping on her shoulder roused her from her slumber. She opened her eyes to find Matty standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. Internally she was freaking out and cursing the universe because this had not been what she meant when she used to dream about waking up with Matty in her bed.
"Morning sunshine," he whispered cheerily as Caroline groaned and flipped him off, wondering how he had that amount of energy this early in the morning "ok ouch darling," he smiled "are you really telling me you didn't enjoy waking up to this face?"
Caroline shot him a deadpan stare "not particularly," before adding her own little remark "if you still had the curls maybe I would have."
She expected some sort of protest from him but instead all she got was a wink and a "duly noted darling."
"So did you just have a death wish this morning or do you actually have a reason for waking me up at sunrise?" Caroline asked him once she started feeling a little more coherent and less like a zombie.
Then Matty's expression turned a bit more sheepish "I wanted to make G a birthday cake but as it turns out I'm shitty baker, who would've thought? But you're decent at baking right, so any chance you can help me because right now I think I've got more flour on me than in the mixing bowl..."
Only then did she notice the faint flour stains brushed across his t-shirt and the patch of flour sitting tauntingly on his cupid's bow. "Wow, decent," she echoed his words "high praise from you Matthew."
"Try not to beam any wider Caro," Matty grinned with amusement "but seriously will you help me?"
Caro - god it sounded good falling from his lips. "Go on then," she let out an exaggerated sigh "since you've woken me up already I guess I'll save you."
"Thanks love," Matty was already full of energy again and about to climb off her bed until her next request made him come to a halt.
“Hang on a second," Caroline uttered quietly, half hoping he'd hear her, half hoping he'd miss it. She brought a delicate hand to his lips and she didn't miss the way his breath hitched. Meanwhile she hoped that he couldn't see how flustered she was as she wiped the stray flour off his face. "Now you can go."
The tender moment between them lingered for a heartbeat before Matty flashed her a warm smile, his eyes holding an unspoken gratitude for her touch. He nodded softly, and without another word, he slipped out of her room to let her get ready for the day.
Caroline took a moment to collect herself, her heart still fluttering from the closeness they had shared. She couldn't deny the flirty undertones to most of their recent interactions but she knew better than to let her heart wander down that path again. After all, they were hardly even friends and she didn’t intend on complicating the situation more than needed by adding romantic feelings into the equation. It couldn’t happen.
In the kitchen, the scent of coffee wafted through the air as Caroline joined Matty, now looking much cleaner without the flour mishap. He was already busy gathering ingredients for the cake.
"So, what kind of cake do you have in mind for George?" Caroline asked, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Matty leaned against the counter, looking pensive for a moment “I hadn’t really gotten that far…”
“How about a triple-layer chocolate cake with a dark chocolate ganache between the layers? And we can top it off with some chocolate curls and berries if we have any left?” Caroline hadn’t spent a birthday with George in quite a few years now but from what she could recall he’d enjoy this.
Matty's eyes widened with approval “perfect, as long as you’re leading though because I can hardly make one layer let alone three.”
“You’ll be a pro once we’re finished,” Caroline assured him “but for now just sit there and look pretty while I get everything set up.”
“Now that I can do,” he hummed with a coy grin.
As they worked together, Caroline and Matty found themselves in a comfortable rhythm, their playful banter interspersed with shared laughter. She gave him a lot of the more simpler tasks just to keep Matty involved and speed up the process as well.
Once the cake was in the oven, they decided to take a break and sit in the studio's cozy lounge area. As they sipped their coffee, Caroline couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected bonding time with Matty.
As they stood in the kitchen, the scent of chocolate cake filling the air, Caroline couldn't help but notice the state of disarray Matty had managed to create. Flour was dusted on countertops and spilled on the floor, and a smudge of chocolate ganache adorned his cheek. That boy seriously couldn’t keep food off of him when he was in the kitchen.
"Wow, Matty, it's like a hurricane passed through here!" Caroline teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "I thought I was supposed to be saving you from making a mess, not joining you in it!"
Matty chuckled, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on, Caro, where's your sense of adventure? Baking is supposed to be fun!"
Caroline rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in mock indignation. "Fun, yes. But I didn't realize it was a competition to see who could create the biggest mess."
She didn’t miss the twinkle in Matty’s eye which she could only assume meant he was up to no good. And she was proven right as she noticed him eyeing the bag of flour with a poorly concealed smirk. With that, they both reached for a handful of flour, and laughter filled the kitchen as they playfully tossed it at each other. Caroline had only retaliated out of self-defence but soon they were both covered in a fine layer of it. The kitchen being properly disastrous now and looking as though it had snowed indoors given the amount of flour spilled across the surfaces.
“You’ve got something there love,” Matty quips before he mirrors her previous actions from when he had woken her up less than an hour ago. His hand gently caressed her chin as he locked eyes with her and wiped the flour off of her lips.
The space between them was rapidly closing but before either of them had a chance to do something they’d likely end up regretting someone cleared their throat to announce their presence. Caroline turned around quickly and was met with Louis Healy bearing a shit-eating grin as he posed the question “what are you guys doing?”
“We’re baking,” Caroline giggled as she realised there was flour in Matty’s hair “since it’s George’s birthday, you’re welcome to join us Lou.”
The younger Healy brother did end up sitting in the kitchen with them sipping a cup of tea as Matty insisted on decorating the cake with the icing pump Caroline had handed him. She held back a snort as she realised he was creating a dick out of the icing in the centre of the cake but she wasn’t bothered enough to intervene so she just let him do his thing. Her mind was in another place anyway, one where what ifs and alternate scenarios of what could have happened if Louis hadn’t walked through the door when he did.
#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald#adam hann#the 1975#matty healy fic#the 1975 fanfic#matty healy x oc#matty x reader
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Chapter 23 Excerpt: The Three Broomsticks
Now on AO3:
A large ‘closed’ sign greeted them as they approached the doorstep of Honeydukes. It didn’t surprise Tom; it was well after midnight on New Year’s Day after all. Hermione, however, acted like the news was completely unprecedented.
“What do they mean they’re bloody closed?!”
“It’s past midnight on—”
“I know what time it is, Tom!” She paced in front of the doorstep, her feet dragging through the freshly fallen snow.
The winter chill was making itself known in the Scotland mountains. Icy air entered his lungs with each breath. He shifted their shopping bags to his other hand. His fingers going numb.
He opened his mouth to reply, but then decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Any attempt to console her would only rile her further. Silence was his best option.
“We could unlock the door!” She suggested.
He kept quiet.
“It’s a simple spell!”
He said nothing.
“It’s worth a try!”
He tried not to say anything. He really did. But the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You think they wouldn’t have wards? You believe wizard-owned shops lock their doors at night and move along?” He watched Hermione’s eyes widen with horror. He pursed his lips as he fought to keep the smile off his face. She looked ready to pull her hair out.
“We could go through the main gates!” She rushed to say, her pitch getting higher. “It’s late. Maybe no one would notice us sneaking back into the castle!”
“I highly doubt that. Plus, with all the students at Hogwarts, I’m sure they have more security measures in place than some iron gates.” She glared at him. His blasé attitude about the whole thing did not help.
“There are other passages! We could go through the Shrieking Shack!”
“What the fuck is that?”
“Shoot!” she muttered something about werewolves and a willow tree; along with a bunch of other stuff Tom couldn’t quite make out.
Speaking of making out… He watched her assault on her lower lip increase with her anxiety. That bloody bartender interrupted them just when things were getting good. He had his hand poised, ready to slide under her skirt. He didn’t give a fuck who saw them.
His eyes glazed over as he imagined the possibilities. Apparently, a quick wank in the bathroom didn’t satiate his appetite for her. Nothing did these days. “We could get a room,” he said. He would have her all to himself. No interruptions. All night long. Together. Alone. On a bed.
Fuck.
“What?!” She stopped pacing and gaped at him. She looked at him as if he just suggested running away into the mountains to be married and having her bear his children—rather than merely staying some place warm for a night.
He watched her tongue peek out and wet her lips. He would suck on that tongue as soon as he slammed the door closed.
Snow fell lightly on her curls. Her nose was pink with the cold.
“The bartender said they had a room. We’ll come back in the morning when Honeydukes is actually open.” He gestured at the building with his hand—or was it a giant ice cube? It was difficult to tell.
“We can’t share a room!” She squealed, crossing her arms over her chest in exasperation. She did this adorable, outraged scowl—like a cute little lion.
“I would have suggested sleeping on the doorstep of Honeydukes, but it’s freezing and doesn’t look comfortable.”
“Are you laughing right now?”
“No.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“I’m not laughing.”
“It looked like you were laughing to me!” She moved her hands to her hips and her lips pressed into a firm line. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he fought to suppress a grin at her comical pout. She definitely wouldn’t appreciate that right now.
“I promise, I wasn’t laughing,” he repeated.
“You’re a garbage liar, Tom!” she said. He was actually an excellent liar, but he wasn’t about to dispute her claim. “I don’t appreciate any humor in this!” she huffed and returned to her pacing, watching the ground where the snow accumulated. He could almost see the panic welling under her skin.
Dammit. Despite how entertaining the situation was, he hadn’t planned on freezing tonight. His witch was being stubborn.
He stepped closer to her. “Hermione, stop.” His fingers touched her upper arm. He imagined her red coat’s texture to be soft, but the bitter chill made his skin prickle with pain at the contact.
She paused and eyed him skeptically.
“I’m going back to The Three Broomsticks.” He had a purse full of Galleons in his pocket. There should be enough for one night. “I would like you to come too, but I won’t force you. It’s up to you.” He decided not to add that he wanted to fuck her into the mattress.
She blinked at him once, then twice, three times before she spoke. “Okay,” her voice sounded small in the strange quiet of the winter. “I’ll go back to The Three Broomsticks with you.”
#fanfic#hermione granger#tbsits#tom riddle#tom riddle x hermione granger#tomione#tom marvolo riddle#tomione fanfiction#hermione jean granger#the brightest star in the sky#harry potter fandom#hp fanfic#harry potter#fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#ao3 fanfic#ao3#hp fandom#hp#writing#ao3 writer#archive of our own
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I DESPARATELY need more fics of huntlow at hexside. Hunter is immediately picked out as the bad boy type everyone crushes on, but we all know he's just a cute little dork most of the time. he does not pick up on a single idea that people may find him attractive, purely because it's never crossed his mind and he's too preoccupied with his massive crush on Willow to care.
BUT THEN,
Willows already popular at hexside we know this, but it's now that people start going "oh wow, Willow Park is amazing and I have to know if she's available"
But the first time someone at school tries to ask her out, walking up to Willow and friends sitting under a tree at lunch, and then are shut down without even being anywhere near the group. Why?
kinda hard to see Willow turn to Hunter, whisper something that has the two of them falling over onto each other in laughter with pink flushed faces and not go "Ohhhhhh. They are totally a thing"
and from there it just becomes a thing. Everyone from hexside is convinced they're together, even casually mentioning it to others in the hexsquad who are all like "DUDE I WISH. THEYRE HOPELESS. THEY JUST NEED TO HURRY THE FUCK UP ALREADY" and of course THAT spreads around too.
Now everyone's placing bets on when they're gonna get together, because it WILL happen, and who's gonna ask. Hunter and Willow are practically oblivious to it bc for some reason this is the best kept bet going on at hexside.
#the owl house#toh#huntlow#i cant tell what would be better#them only figuring out after they get tpgether abt the bet#or them finding out and deciding to fuck with everyone#i have brain worms and theyre huntlow shaped
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Winter Wolf: Part 15
Pairings: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst
Word Count: 4,421
A/N: Finally got the muse to finish this story! YAY!
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I want it to look like a plantation house.” You said as you stood in front of what was left of your house between a general contractor, and Bucky as you bounced Ana on your hip, while you looked at another contractor that dealt with historic homes, specifically, and Tony, who was paying for the reconstruction. It had taken him a month of cutting red tape, but on the afternoon of your one year anniversary, he handed you the updated deed and a photo of the new metal arch across your driveway with the real name of your plantation and the real year it was established displayed proudly beneath it.
“I want the same wide wrap around porch, and the balcony on the second floor with all glass French doors. I want the white columns, and my stone fireplace in the parlor, and wood floors throughout. Oh, and I want to see my willow through my bedroom windows. Everything else, you can ask Bucky for. But the kitchen has to be in the back, left corner, and it has to have six bedrooms. Four up, and two down- one on either side of the first floor. Classic.” You finished as you switched Ana on your hip and turned to let her play in the willow tree. “Oh, and bathrooms. Lots of bathrooms. And air conditioning. And a swing in that oak tree over there.”
“Did you want to knock down that old workers house still, doll?” Bucky asked as you put your daughter down, and held on to her hands so she could stretch her legs.
“Yep! Get rid of it.” You called out with a nod. “That’s what we’ll do, Anastasia. When Daddy’s done, we’ll walk back and go look at the little river where you can sit and play in the water. You’d like that, huh? Better than being raised in a tower.” You sighed and sat down in the short grass with a small smile. “We’ve really come full circle here, baby girl.” You said as you shifted her grip on your fingers. “I really hope your mom would like us moving you here. I think she would. You’re gunna have a huge yard to play in, and your own room. And we can start a garden again, and we can plant some more apple and peach trees in the back. And I think I remember how to fish, but maybe Daddy does so he can teach us both. And maybe we can get you a little pool to play in on hot days…” You paused for a moment as you looked over at the distant sound of tires turning into your driveway. “James…”
“Yea…”
“That’s a government car.” You called out as you picked up your daughter, and walked out from under the willow tree to look over at the drive. You stopped half way to the small group as not one, but three black SUV’s with tinted windows and a massive armored car pulled up to stop in the parking lot area. “Shit… take her.”
“Babe…” Bucky said as you took the last few steps over to him and practically shoved your daughter into his arms.
“Take her.” You said as you stepped back away from him as men started to pour out of the vehicles and head toward you quickly.
“Doctor (Y/N) (Y/M/N) Barnes, AKA (Y/N) Scott, née (Y/L/N)…”
“Ross!” Tony yelled as you mentally battled the decision to run for your life or accept your fate.
“You are under arrest for the murders of Howard and Maria Stark, John F. Kennedy, Jasper Sitwell…”
“No, no!” Bucky shouted as you were nearly tackled to the ground by four guys nearly twice your size that were trying to get you into cuffs and shackles as quickly as possible even though you were not resisting what so ever in front of your child.
“Ross, you are making a huge mistake.” Tony said as Ana started to scream for you as some of the men kept your husband and daughter back at gun point.
“Babe, don’t you fucking listen to her!” Bucky roared over everyone as he watched your whole being shift into something he barely recognized when he saw you register the face of the man that had a gun pointing at your innocent one year old. “Don’t give in to her! Stay with Anastasia and me! Stay with us!” You met his eyes for a moment with a look he had only seen in old HYDRA photographs as you were lifted off the ground and unceremoniously thrown into a cube shaped jail cell.
“You’re all gunna fucking pay for that.” You said evenly with an evil smirk as you let them chain you to the chair before they all stepped out of the truck and shut you in with a single pair of heavily armed guards. A dark laugh you normally hated to hear, but that you absolutely welcomed in that moment started to echo in your head as you looked directly at the man who had no idea what was coming to him. “You have no fucking idea how much you’re gunna pay for pointing a gun at my daughter.”
——
You were locked in a room, a half mile below ground at least, in a bulletproof glass and metal box similar to the one you were held in the last time the American government had captured you, and left completely alone in a small room with multiple armed guards keeping watch outside the only door. For an entire month, you were given barely a meal twice a day, and allowed to use the “restroom”, which was really just a bed pan shoved under your ass after two guards held your hips up and yanked your pants down for you, twice daily as well, but you were given no other privileges other than those. You didn’t get to shower or get clean clothes; it was “too risky” to uncuff more than the lower part of your right arm for you to eat and wipe yourself.
But you couldn’t complain. You didn’t say a word or move a muscle unless you were told to, because every time you did, they shocked you. Everyday for that entire month, you lost just a little more hope that this would one day come to an end, and the Wolf developed her plan of escape just a little bit louder in your head for when the part of you that made you ‘you’ finally gave up. But on the very last day of the month, the entire wall in front of you lifted up and a large group of armed men filed in ten bodies wide, and at least six bodies deep.
“Let’s move her!” The man in charge called out, which made the guards split down the center so a fork lift could be brought in to pick up the cage. You wanted to ask where you were going so badly, but you didn��t dare say a word as you were carted out of the room, on to a massive platform, and brought out of the pit of your own personal hell.
‘You can break out now!’ The Wolf said as you were transported to an armored truck. ‘It’d be easy. You know I can do it. We can go far, far away from here where no one will ever find us again…’
‘I’m not leaving my family.’ You told her as you slowly and carefully closed your eyes and leaned your head back on your chair, despite every other ounce of your being being poised and ready to attack at a moments notice like it had been for weeks. ‘I won’t leave my daughter or my husband.’
‘Weak.’ You mentally agreed with her as the truck stopped, and the back doors were opened so that the cage could be removed. You opened your eyes again and looked up at an impressive federal courthouse in Washington DC. Your guard led you inside and through the halls, and some how, it took you until were just outside the court room to realize what was happening. (Which was probably from lack of sleep, but you weren’t quite sure of that or anything anymore.)
“Oh, my God!” Bucky and Wanda screamed simultaneously as the pair of them, the rest of the Avengers, and a man you assumed had to be your lawyer jumped to their feet the second you were carted into the room.
“What are you doing to her?!” Tony screeched as he looked over at General Ross, who was sitting front and center behind the prosecution with a smug yet straight look on his face.
“Have you even let her change her clothes or shower at all?!” Bucky chimed in as tears welled in his eyes as he searched the dead look in yours.
“Is this the reason you’ve refused to let me see my client?!” A man said as he turned toward the other side and pointed back at you.
“This is inhumane!”
“She’s a mutant.” The prosecutor said with a shake of his head. “And she’s dangerous…”
“Get my wife out of that box…!”
“Alright, order! Order!!” The judge said as she slammed her gavel down and looked over at you. “OK, everybody hold on!” She yelled over your lawyer, and your large family as they all screamed at the government officials responsible for your mistreatment. “Has this been her living conditions since she was arrested?” She asked as she looked over at you, and the Wolf responded before you could stop her.
“I haven’t even used a toothbrush…” You shrieked and seized when the box shocked you once again, and Wanda and Steve instantly leapt over the partition.
“Get her out of that box!” The judge and your lawyer roared as Wanda ripped the front and the side of the box away so Steve could get your restraints off. Everyone in a thirty foot radius recoiled from the smell as Bucky pushed past Steve to pick you up out of the chair as gently as he could.
“She needs a medic!” Steve yelled as your lawyer told the other that he would be filing law suits against every single person responsible for your mistreatment as the judge scrambled to get the jury out of the room.
“I got the jet on the roof ready…” Tony said as he came over with a shake of his head. “Jesus, I didn’t know it was possible for her to be so thin.”
“Court officers…”
“If you so much as think of taking her out of my fucking arms right now, you will see what the Avengers are capable of for one of our own.” Bucky said evenly as he looked up at the woman on the stand.
“Can you please bring in a monitoring bracelet for Dr. Barnes so she can be confined to Sibley Memorial…”
“Can you make that the Four Seasons here in DC?” Tony asked as he tapped the ear piece in his ear to hang up his phone call while Steve ripped your dirty jeans away from your ankle so the monitor could be attached. “My personal physician is already on the way.”
“Fine.” The judge said with a nod as she sat up in her spot. “Dr. Barnes, you are not, under any circumstances, allowed to leave your hotel room once it has been established unless it is to come to court, do you understand what I am saying?”
“Yes ma’am.” You nearly whispered as you looked up at her.
“OK then. We will reconvene in one week for trial.” The prosecutor and General Ross both shouted ‘what’ as Bucky hiked you up in his arms to carry you out, which made the judge whip toward them. “As for you? You should be ashamed of yourselves. Mutant or not, you just violated every single one of her civil liberties…”
“Bucky?” You breathed as you reached up with your metal hand and brushed your fingertips across the scruff on his cheek. “Anastasia?”
“She’s at the hotel with Pepper. We’re gunna go see her right now.”
“OK.” You said as you laid your head down on his shoulder where the Wolf finally let you fell asleep in the safety of his arms.
——
“Mama!” Ana screeched when you got out of the shower in your much nicer jail cell after your extensive check up with a doctor that worked for Stark Industries. You stumbled the slightest bit and looked over at your daughter, who toddled toward you all by herself on her impossibly more chunky legs. You stopped in the doorway and Bucky nearly ran over you from behind when you teared up and sat down on the carpet since you had missed her first steps.
“Oh, my baby girl!” You cried as tears filled your eyes when your little angel threw herself into your chest and hugged your throat tightly.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you two were showering.” Pepper said softly, but Bucky shook his head as he held his towel tightly around his waist and stepped past you.
“No, it’s OK.” He said with a glance back at the two halves of his heart. “We all just a little out of sorts right now.”
“I know what you mean.” Pepper said with a nod. “I’m gunna tell Tony to have Michael come and speak with her the day after tomorrow about the case. She needs you and Ana and she needs to eat something first.”
“And we all need some real rest.” He said as he turned a bit to watch you lay down right on the floor to play with the toys Bucky had brought with him to entertain Ana while he was in court. He could see the sheer exhaustion in your eyes as you watched Ana lay down just like you to put her hand on your cheek, and he startled the slightest when Pepper touched his shoulder.
“She’s gunna make it through this.” She said softly with a nod. “You both are. We’re all in this together, OK? And we will make it through this trial…”
“She won’t make it if she gets convicted…”
“She won’t.” Pepper reassured. “Especially after today. The jury saw her get shocked in that box, we can use that to our advantage…”
“Bucky?” You called out softly, which made him whip around toward you. You sighed heavily and looked up at him with a small shake of your head. “If I get convicted, I’m letting the Wolf out, and going to Wakanda. I won’t spend another minute of my life in a box like that again. Just get Anastasia there before I’m sentenced…”
“OK, we’ll worry about that later, doll.” He said as he walked away from Pepper and carefully laid down on Ana’s other side facing you. “Let’s just talk to the lawyer first. He has a pretty good plan for us. We’re all pretty confident anyways, OK?” You nodded your head against your arm and reached out to hold his hand as Pepper left your room for the night.
“I love you, Bucky. You and Ana are the only reasons I didn’t break out already.”
“Well you’re here now.” He said with a small smile. “I love you, (Y/N), and I will never stop doing so. No matter what happens.”
——
“Well you look much, much better than the last time I saw you, Dr. Barnes.” The judge, Stacy Benson said as she took a seat in her chair. “How are you feeling?” You glanced over at your lawyer, Michael Young, almost seeking permission to speak, before looking up at the judge with a small nod.
“Cleaner. But I’m a mother so I think I’ll forever be tired.”
“As the mother of three kids myself, I can tell you that never goes away.” She said with a small laugh as she organized the paperwork for your case. “Now, I assume you’ve had a chance to meet with your lawyer this past week?”
“Yes ma’am, I have. Thank you.”
“And you come to court today understanding all of the charges against you and are prepared for the trial against you to begin?”
“Yes ma’am, I am.” She looked up for the papers for a moment and nodded her head before glancing over at the bailiff.
“Let’s bring in the finalized jury.” You nodded your head, took a deep breath, and glanced back at Pepper, who was one of the only Avengers that wasn’t testifying which meant she was the only one allowed to hear the trial from beginning to end. She gave you a reassuring nod and reminded you to breathe and to sit up a bit more as the jury all took their seats. You turned back around and folded your hands in your lap the way your lawyer had told you so that your metal hand was ‘out of sight and out of mind’ until the ‘perfect moment’. You sat almost perfectly still and started singing the ‘Good Night Moon’ song on repeat in your head the way Bucky had suggested to try to drown out the Wolf as both lawyers started the trial with their opening arguments.
The prosecution’s was almost stereotypical. Mr. Everett Ross kept his voice raised and his tone angry as he used big hand gestures to make his argument feel much larger than it was. But unfortunately, he was so convincing, hell, you yourself even believed for a moment that you- the normal, pre-brainwashing you was the one who committed the sixteen murders they had proof for out of the ninety-seven actual murders the Winter Wolf had done. When he was finished, even the Wolf sat back in your mind with an agitated huff.
‘Well we’re fucked.’
But then Mike stood up for his turn.
“Ladies and gentleman of the jury, this case is going to be one for the books. I have been practicing law for almost thirty years and I have never in my life seen one like this. Especially because what I am about to say is going to contradict itself completely. My client did commit these murders. She doesn’t deny it, there is plenty of evidence to support it, some of which, I’ll even be bringing up myself. But at the exact same time, my client is completely innocent. And I can prove it.
Over the next few days, you are going to hear plenty of eye witness testimony from witnesses that saw first hand what the Winter Wolf is capable of. You will see videos, and photographs the prosecution as procured to support the fact that the Wolf, which is what I will call the murderer from here on out, is the one that committed these crimes. But then it will be my turn to show you why Dr. Barnes, the woman sitting directly to my left here, is not the same person.
Please know in advance that the images, and testimony will be brutally graphic as we reveal the torture and agony Dr. Barnes went through at the hands of HYDRA from 1939 to 2014 when she was able to escape their control. And yes, my dates are correct because Dr. Barnes is a mutant, and one of her mutations is that she is not capable of dying. Which is also something else I will be able to prove as well. So while you sit here, and listen to the facts, I beg of you to keep an open mind through it all. Look at all of the facts and really see that the Winter Wolf and Dr. (Y/N) Barnes are two different entities in the same body. And prepare yourself now; like I said, this is not going to be pretty.” You looked up at him in awe as he nodded at the jury and came back around the table to sit down as Everett stood up and called his first witness. “Just remember what I said.” Mike said softly as he reached over and pat your back as an elderly man came in and sat down at the witness stand to be sworn in.
“Mr. Jones, how are you today?” Everett started with a smile.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Now Mr. Jones, can you tell me where you were on November 22nd, 1963?” Your mind instantly flashed to that day, and you knew exactly where this man was on that date.
“I was in Dallas, Texas at Dealey Plaza with my late wife to see President John F. Kennedy.”
“And where were you exactly, Mr. Jones?”
“We were sitting on the grassy knoll. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“Now, refresh my memory.” Everett said almost sarcastically. “You were there, what happened, and what did you see?” You couldn’t stop your mind from following the man’s description as he led up to the moment the shots were fired, but from your point of view. You remembered getting off the way to advanced for its time jet, and heading through the packed streets to get to your mark. You remembered slipping into the shadows of a giant tree behind a picket fence and you could even feel the weight of your gun in your hand as you held it up and pulled the trigger. The faint hum of your daughter’s bed time song caught your attention though as it wasn’t part of the memory, and you shook your head and glanced behind you at Pepper, who simply smiled and nodded as she hummed a few more notes and stopped.
“So you saw the shooter?” Everett asked with a slight tilt of his head. “What can you tell me about her... or him.” He clarified, quickly before Mike could object.
“It was a woman.” Mr. Jones said with a small nod. “Caucasian, roughly five foot five like my wife, dark hair, wearing all black.”
“Anything else?” He asked as he oh so subtly adjusted his watch on his wrist, but Mike immediately jumped on it at the same moment you realized exactly why Tony and Bucky had insisted you wear the shirt you had on under your suit jacket.
“Objection! Leading!”
“Councilor, I will only warn you once.” Judge Benson said as she looked down at him as he raised his hands in innocence.
“Wasn’t leading...”
“She had a metal arm!” Mr. Jones said over him as if he had just remembered the award winning answer on a television game show.
“Your Honor, can you ask council to instruct his client to remove her jacket and roll up her sleeves.”
“Against my better judgement...” She started, but you had already stood up to take off your jacket anyways. The black metal stood out spectacularly against the light pink, sleeveless, backless, collared halter top button down you had on, and nearly the entire room gasped at the sight. You purposely turned around to hang your jacket on the back of your chair so that every single member of the jury could see your scars, and you went out of your way to use both hands to collect your loose hair to pull it over your right soldier so that the jury had no choice but to see what HYDRA did to you.
“A metal arm like that?” Everett asked as he turned back to the witness with a victorious smile, not realizing that every single thing he was doing was just setting himself up for failure.
“Yes, just like that.”
“No further questions.” He said with a nod as he walked back over to his table.
“Mr. Jones, you said you remember that day as if it was yesterday, correct?” Mike asked with a smile as he stood up from his spot.
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Wonderful. So you can remember if the shooters metal arm was black or silver, correct?” You could see the subtle hesitation in Mr. Jones’ eyes as he glanced at you for a moment before looking back up at your attorney.
“It was black. Matched her outfit.”
“And, how was the killer wearing her hair?” He continued as he leaned back against the table. “Down like it is now? Up in a pony tail? Do you recall?”
“It was...” He started as he glanced over at his lawyer, who no longer had a smile on his face. “It was pulled back. I’m not sure what the style was called back then.”
“And her outfit. I know you said it was all black, but could you describe it further?” You could see the slight panic in the witnesses eyes, before he jumped to the defensive.
“Are you calling me a liar, sir?!”
“Not at all, sir.” Mike said with a shake of his head as he turned around to grab something from the file he had sitting on the table. “Merely asking for more details. Defense exhibit one, your honor.” He said as he pulled out a stack of paper to give to the judge, to the jury, and to the witness since the prosecution had already been given the photographs. “Now Mr. Jones, would it surprise you in any way to know that up until 2018, Dr. Barnes had a silver metal arm with a giant red star on the shoulder as seen in photographs recovered from leaked HYDRA files from 1932, and 1967, photos from government files from 1974, ‘81, ‘91, ‘96... all the way to personal photos of her in Stark tower up until 2018 when it was exchanged for the current arm she has now?” He paused for a moment so that Mr. Jones had a chance to look through at least some of the photos, before continuing. “And would it also surprise you to know that the uniform she has on in those HYDRA and government photos was the official quote ‘uniform’ for the Winter Wolf, and that it never deviated?”
“Objection!” Everett snapped as he finally got to his feet. “How is he supposed to know that?”
“Just simple questions, that’s all.” Mike said as he took the photos back from the witness and walked back to the table. “No further questions.” As he sat back down at the table beside you, he put the photos back in their file before glancing over at you with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’m just getting started.” A smile pulled at the corners of your lips as Everett got up and called his second of fifteen witnesses, realizing at that moment that your lawyer was going to win this case.
Part 16
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ana my beloved my heart my love!!! in your most recent writing, what has been your favourite scene/line/dialogue you've written? (or all three 👁️👁️) also do u have any aes/moodboards for ur hp fic?? i cannot wait to devour this fic when it releases 💖
oh emma u know how to ask the most bestest of questions.
Malfoy is chatty when he is as high as a kite.
She learns a lot. He tells her about Malfoy Manor, the ghosts that linger in the stone foundations, the way the grass never really grows under the grove of willow trees by the adjacent lake. The first time he remembers seeing magic. The first time he created magic: just a few sparks in protest when Narcissa had given him an outfit that was apparently a crime to fashion. The fashion sense of a four-year old, he admits, curling his body towards her on the floor, starlight hair falling into his eyes like meteors. He tells her about the worst of it too. The way his father would tremble with rage, the whispers of the portraits following him in sixth year whenever he dared to return. How the nightmares began to follow him home, culminating in an oil slick of a tattoo embedding itself into his being.
Hermione’s fingers hover over the ink, curiosity and revulsion warring it out plainly on her face.
Did it hurt?
Yes.
this piece had been a tadpole in my brain for the last year or so and although i didn't intend for the space metaphors and similes to be so overt, when they flow into the prose like this i know i've made the right choice for themes and general ~aesthetic. i want the scenes where they're high off their faces to be so gossamer and blurry (vasalined to fuck as @dairogo and i were laughing about a few nights ago!) there's such a tragedy and horror to space: it is a gaping maw, we know so very little, and yet there is beauty in the most destructive of the physics we know of. black holes? objectively terrifying. but so fucking gorgeous at the same time.
this fic very much has that dark academia feel to it, although there is this underbelly which is rooted in a bit more southern gothic than british gothic alone. ethel cain and her work is def playing a part to how themes are developing in the story, as well as how i want that story to be told. this book i'm reading about the cannibal mermaids has a similar kind of slant in a way: the horror is already there. it's up to u to decide to look into the abyss.
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