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#(but technically they looked into each other's eyes the last ever time we saw them together and you know i'm clinging to that fact buds!!!)
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if someone ever makes the gifset of all the times roman and gerri don't look at each other or deliberately look away from each other in season four, it's gonna be over for ol' me (in the best way possible)
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toovaeloe · 2 months
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awkward | “I don’t want to forget.”
mdni
satoru gojo x genderneutral reader
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in which you accidentally fucked your friend and now he doesn’t want to go back to being just friends.
☁️🎀☁️
Yeah…
So that definitely was not supposed to happen.
Satoru couldn’t say when it happened, how it happened, or what exactly happened….
Except he could.
He remembered everything, in extremely vivid detail for that matter.
Every word you said over drinks at that bar counter. Drinks that neither of you even finished. Every casual touch that seemed to linger longer than the last. Every laugh and snort and wheeze you shared stumbling out of the place. Not as much of an effect of the alcohol as it was the two of you shooting brazen, flirtatious retorts back and forth, one after another. Practically hanging off of each other, hunched over in your loopy hysterics. Cackling as you fumbled to his car like newborn giraffes.
He recounted the way you slouched sideways over the center console on the drive to your home. The way you traced distracting patterns against his clothes. The curve of your cheeky smile at the way it made his muscles tense that he could see out of the corner of his eye.
And then he was at your door; making sure you got in safe. That should’ve been the end of that night.
But it wasn’t.
Nor did it end when your lips met his in your doorway, or when he reciprocated just as eagerly— if not more. Waltzing past the door’s threshold, his large palms caressing up and down your sides; smoothly gliding down your lower back and squeezing handfuls of your ass.
He really should’ve pulled away right there; said something, anything besides the filthy confessions he had been whispering against your neck. Ones that turned to promises when he sealed them against your skin in a trail of hot, wanton open mouthed kisses.
Fuck, he remembered everything.
The softness of your skin as he kneaded every squishy, sensitive part of your body he could get his hands on. The way a shiver ran through you every time his fingers angled just so his nails barely grazed you. Every gasp and moan and plead of his name was permanently burned into his memory.
One thing he couldn’t recall was the hazy, love-struck look in your lidded eyes that night; and he swears no one’s ever looked at him like that before. He couldn’t, because you technically can’t really think back on what you don’t stop thinking about.
And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it— not since he saw it, and not even as he got up and left before morning. He didn’t even say “bye”.
That was an asshole move. He knew it was an immature, asshole move. He just couldn’t stop himself from spiraling; worrying about what he would do or say when you awoke; how this would affect your friendship…were you even still friends after this?
It didn’t feel like it. Time was passing; a few days, and everything was strained. An odd barrier of discomfort and dry texts between the two of you that wasn’t there before.
He felt crushed, guilty, angry at himself; the kind of frustration that had him flopping onto his bed everyday after work and screaming into his pillow.
So imagine the hopefulness he felt when you messaged him; suggesting him to meet at your place to talk.
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“Just forget it happened.”
“…What??”
But now he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I think we should just…y’know,” You struggled to articulate; lip catching between your teeth and hands nervously twisting and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Sweet Jesus, this was such a painful conversation. “try and not think about it.”
He was sitting on the sofa across from your armchair in your living room, gawking at you for a long moment that felt frozen in time.
You were sitting there, asking him to forget. everything that had happened?? He understood why; you wanted to salvage the platonic relationship between the two of you. Still, he couldn’t comprehend such an impossible demand. Even though he knew it was partly his own fault for abandoning you wordlessly in the night, it still made his heart twist uncomfortably in his chest. He couldn’t. He wouldn't.
Satoru was finally able to pick his jaw up off the floor during the long silence that had stretched between the two of you. Thick with awkward tension. And then his body was moving before he could think; pushing himself off the couch and crossing towards you with purposeful steps.
“I can’t,”
He practically forced out, the vulnerability feeling so foreign that he had to swallow the lump in his throat that seemed to be plugging up his words. His hands landed on the armrest on either side of you, caging you in against the upholstery. At this proximity, you could clearly see the way his frosty brows creased together through his bangs, the way his pink lips pressed together an uneven line.
“I don’t want to forget.”
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a/n: more drabble bc im still trying to get more comfortable with posting my writing on tumblr😚
l 🤍 u MWAHMWAH
allusion to “awkward” by sza
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nsharks · 10 months
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part thirteen —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.
"Twix."
Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.
“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."
"Well, technically, I hurt them."
Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."
"It was important—"
"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”
"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.
"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."
Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.
"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."
A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.
You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it. 
"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."
She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words. 
"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"
"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."
You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No— I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.
"How many have you killed?"
"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."
"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.
"I know. Me, too.”
With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”
"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.
"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."
"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."
"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little. 
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Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.
"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.
Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.
"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.
He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."
A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank. 
Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.
"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"
It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"
"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."
"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"
"On a good day, maybe," he answers.
"What about you, Twix?"
"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."
"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"
"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.
"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.
"It does matter. Might change my answer."
"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."
"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.
"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."
Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."
"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims. 
"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead. 
"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"
"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.
"Knife."
"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."
They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."
In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight. 
The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo. 
You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.
He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands. 
"Here."
It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss. 
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Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.
At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping. 
At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"
"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point. 
"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."
"I could go for another three."
She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.
The sleep is good until it's not.
On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.
Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair. 
You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.
On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall. 
It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.
But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.
"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."
"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.
You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night. 
"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.
"And you what?"
"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."
He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."
"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"
Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him. 
"Twix."
You pause, looking back. "Yes?"
A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do." 
With that, you crawl back onto the couch.
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fleurriee · 1 year
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— the best way to learn ; aemond targaryen
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pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader
synopsis ; for a second there, you thought you’d lost your daughter. you should’ve known she’d be with her father, doing what they do best - causing mayhem in the privacy of your chambers.
word count ; 3.3k
themes ; fluff, established relationship (married)
warnings ; none. maybe slightly ooc aemond???
author’s note ; first time writing for aemond,,,, what do we think??? this man has a chokehold on me ever since that first episode we saw him in & i’ve finally given in and done something about it asdfghjkl also i can’t make alicent a villain, especially when she’s olivia cooke, im sorry.
masterlist request a fic!
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You couldn’t find your daughter.
The last time you saw her had been early in the morning, sending her over to her nursemaids as they took over. She’d be spending majority of the day there, catching up on her reading and slowly beginning to learn more equity. You didn’t like it when the day turned out in such a way, because she was your daughter, and it was technically your job to teach her such things, but when yourself and Aemond became busy at the same times, you had no other choice.
This morning, you were called by Queen Alicent, your mother-in-law, requesting that you spend the majority of the day with her, sharing between both the council room, but also her chambers. She’d asked that you come in on some of the council sessions that would be taking place during the day, aiding her in the errands of the kingdom she was suddenly having to take care of due to the King’s declining health.
(Although, she had also mentioned that she also wished to spend some time with you regardless, seeing as it had been a little too long for her liking. The two of you had gotten along pretty much from the moment you met, with her relishing in the perfect match between yourself and Aemond. Ever since then, you’ve been like another daughter to her.)
You were constantly feeling honoured and a little proud of yourself whenever Queen Alicent would ask specifically for your presence during these meetings - after all, you were only her second son’s wife, with barely any authority placed upon your shoulders when it came to making final decisions like this.
When you’d first told her of your worries of others opinions on your presence there, she’d instantly shut them down. Queen Alicent head adamantly stated that she valued your opinion, not only as a member of her family, but as a woman. She knew you’d go with the options that would be best for the kingdom entirely.
No one had ever said anything to you, despite the lingering glances they’d continue to give you throughout each meeting. You had an idea that the reason nothing had happened was both on the Queen’s orders, and for the fear of your husband’s wrath should you mention just a slither of an occurrence to him.
The reason why Aemond was unable to properly look after your daughter was due to the training he had with Sir Criston Cole in the yard. It was an errand he didn’t enjoy - in fact, every time he knew he had it forthcoming and afterwards on his return, he would grumble and groan about participating in it.
When it came to Aemond, he much preferred staying in with his family, reading some other tome he’d found in the archives of the family library that spoke of extravagant histories. Aemond Targaryen had never been into tourneys and training like that, but, he knew, as was his duty as the second son of the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he needed to learn to protect those close to his heart - his two girls at the top of that list.
So, despite wishing he was anywhere else rather than in that particular yard, as onlookers watched on with beady eyes, he keep himself there. The practice would allow him to feel confident in himself that he could protect his wife and daughter. Not that he would never not try, anyway, but the reassurances were nice.
The bonus was that he was good at it, meaning those of the guard would command that he help protect the rest of the kingdom, alongside them. No one was about to pass up a good warrior like Aemond Targaryen, even if he did grumble and glare at them.
Therefore, due to the both of you being busy with duties neither of you were particularly happy to be doing, you had trusted your only daughter in the care of her nursemaids. Before you’d left her, you promised her that her mother and father would call for her later, at a more suitable time where the three of you could be together as a proper family in the safe confines of your chambers.
It was difficult to really show off the love you had for one another in the way you admired, majority of the time. You couldn’t really do so when roaming the halls of the castle, or when walking some of the better streets of the kingdom.
As royals, it was customary for you to keep straight faces, to smile politely in a nice way, and to only ever speak when you were spoken to, more so than ever seeing as you were a woman. To you, as a princess, the wife to the second son of King Viserys, it was of paramount importance that you taught your own daughter the same thing you were taught, too - to be a lady when seen in public, to be prim and proper, but when safely wrapped in the warm embrace of those your trusted wholeheartedly, be whoever you wanted to be.
Even from a young age, yourself and Aemond did your absolute best to teach her that, knowing it was to be a fundamental part of her personality if she were to survive in this part of the world she was chosen to grow up in. Thankfully (as you’d always say), your daughter had taken after her father immensely in every way, and not just in her appearance, with her violet eyes and silver mane - no, she was also fierce, wishing to one day be wearing a similar armour to her father and wield a sword that represented his.
This dream of hers wouldn’t disappear, no matter how many times you heard others try and quell it. It wouldn’t, though, not when you, Aemond and Queen Alicent herself allowed her to dream whatever she wanted, promising her that one day, they would all come true. And, if it was up to the three of you, you’d make sure it did. Aemond had told her it would, too, many times, but reminding her that, for now, the two of them would have to pretend it was the same when fighting with wooden swords in your private chambers.
And, that’s exactly where you were headed now.
After bidding a swift goodbye to your good mother, promising her that you would make sure to see her again before the day was over (to which she replied, preferably with my son and granddaughter, with a chuckle), you’d gone back to where you’d left your daughter with her nursemaids early that morning. But, upon entering, you noticed she hadn’t been there - no one had.
Despite believing that surely she’d be safe if she was in the company of her nursemaids, knowing they’d protect her with their lives as they had vowed, for just a split second, you could feel your heart dropping to the very bottom of your stomach, feeling as though you were going to throw it up out of nerves. But, you told yourself that everything was fine, willing yourself to calm down, and repeatedly telling yourself that you simply hadn’t checked enough rooms to be completely worried yet.
However, it only spiked up more than ever when you’d gone down to the yard to speak to your husband, wanting to see if maybe he had seen her. Only when you came up short, everything felt worse. Not even Sir Criston was there, meaning you couldn’t question him about anything, even if you’d wanted to.
There was a part of your mind that was desperate to think logically, to think rationally - maybe Aemond had left to see her. Yeah, you’re sure that was it. Still, that one part of your mind wouldn’t stop nagging at you with dangerous, pessimistic thoughts.
Palms sweating and eyes flickering madly from one corner to the other, and then only repeating the same process, desperation is clear in your actions as you tried your damn hardest to keep a levelled composure. You knew it wouldn’t do well for anyone else dwelling in the confines of the kingdom’s walls to see you acting so wildly and brash, not when they were so used to you being the rational one that calms your husband down during his own heightened tempers. There would be no use in causing a mayhem if there was nothing to worry about, which is what you continued to tell yourself, hoping that the more you thought it, the more likely it would be on the other end.
It wasn’t like you could help these particular feelings, either - you were a mother after all, and you were always going to worry. No matter the circumstances, no matter the place, no matter the people… you would always have these lingering doubts that something was wrong with your baby if she was ever not in your’s or your husband’s arms.
That’s why your steps stayed hurried and frantic, and your breaths started to become slightly laboured as you rushed to your shared bedchambers, forcing the doors open and hoping above all hopes - to both the Old Gods and the New - that something would be inside that would give you the answers to calm your racing heart.
And, the sight that greeted you, face-to-face, the moment those doors opened, managed to fill your heart with the upmost of love.
There, standing on your bed, feet bouncing her up, down and around as she yelled out with her squealed, tiny giggles, was your daughter. Her hair was an absolute mess, no longer styled in the plaits you’d given her that morning; strands of silver falling into her face from the length of it - again, wanting to take after her father. It wasn’t bothering her, though, not when there was an elated smile plastered right upon her lips as she attempted to push her father further away from her, hands pulled out in front of her like she was warning him off.
Said husband of yours was continuing to stand at the end of your bed, a teasing, expectant expression on his face, like he was awaiting something. Aemond was slightly hunched over, preparing for the next opening when he could pounce upon your daughter and attack with all the love he had on offer.
As all this was happening, you stayed silent, watching on as the two of them breathed heavily. That was a sure sign that this had possibly been happening for a short while now - as it always would, when she was playing with her father.
“Kepa (father),” she paused, taking another deep breath, the flush of her cheeks apparent as another small giggle escaped from her lips. “Kepa (father), I don’t know!”
Walking ever so slightly closer to her, Aemond tsked, shaking his head. Still, the reading grin never left his features. “Yes, you do, ñuha byke zaldrīzes (my little dragon)…”
My little dragon. You absolutely adored it when he called her that, making you feel proud and domesticated with the two of them, with your little family. And, she was his little dragon, in every aspect - looks, personally, heritage. It would only be a matter of time before she possessed her only companion, and you couldn’t wait to be there with her for that achievement.
However, too caught up in the haze of the love you held so dearly for them, you hadn’t realised your daughter spotted you, her eyes sneakily looking for a way of escape and heart jumping for joy when she spotted you lingering. “Muña (mother)!” her yell pierced through the walls of the chambers, clambering herself off the bed as quick as possible (trying to avoid her father’s arms reaching for her), and wrapping her tiny self around one of your legs, safe beneath your dress and hiding herself behind the material.
Watching her, and noticing what had caught her eye, accompanied by her correct High Valyrian, your lord husband spotted you, as well. His once teasing, mischievous expression instantly turned softer at the sigh of his lady wife, stepping a little closer to the two of you. “My lady wife, I did not expect to see you until later in the day.”
You chuckled, smiling back at him lovingly before reaching a hand out to stroke the top of your daughter’s head, both a motherly gesture and an attempt to brush some of the silver strands back from her flushed face. “As did I,” you replied, “but when I went to check in on Visenya only to find her not there… I panicked.”
With a sympathetic smile, Aemond looked lovingly down at you, at the worry that was still slightly hidden behind your tone of his at your admittance. He reached over until his hand was clasping behind your neck, bringing you forwards and all the more closer to him so he could place a delicate kiss against your forehead. The whole gesture was so loving and tender, so much different in comparison to how he usually portrayed himself anywhere else that wasn’t in your chambers with his little family.
“Kepa came to get me,” your daughter explained, not realising that she was beginning to rat her father out. Her chin was propped up against your leg, looking up at you with such innocent eyes - violet, like her father. “He told me it was time to learn more High Valyrian.”
At her words, you focused your attention back on your husband, cocking a brow at him as your smile slowly faded just a smidge. No one would’ve noticed it, but, Aemond wasn’t no one - he knew you better than he knew himself. He sighed, “I know I should’ve told you, but, I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You know I always check up on her, Aemond,” you spoke, voice quiet and just a tiny bit exasperated as you reprimanded your husband. You should’ve known Visenya would’ve been with her father all along, for reasons exactly as this one. But, the worry of a mother would always eat away at you until your daughter was back in your own grasp. That’s just how it was - you couldn’t help yourself.
As a second longer passed and the silence stilled within the room, the small slither of annoyance you previously felt dissipated at the apologetic, longing look he was sending you. You always gave in easily when it came to Aemond Targaryen, no matter the face he was pulling at you - he was just that handsome. You could feel a small shift down by your leg, spotting your daughter continuously looking from yourself, then over to her father, trying to fully understand the situation playing out in front of her, and you couldn’t help but feel refreshed again, like you hadn’t had any worries to begin with. “And,” you began, smiling wide down at her, Aemond instantly knowing your next moves just from one look at you, “you know I always like to join in when you learn High Valyrian.”
The moment the last word fell from your lips, you bent down with quick movements, picking her up within your arms and holding her tightly against you before she could even think about trying to run away. She squealed in utter excitement, laughing and giggling all the same, feet kicking upon your sides as she desperately tried to leave your embrace.
“Now,” you began, tilting your head down at her, before looking back up to your husband, “what were you teaching her?”
Aemond began to stand a little further back, already sensing that you were going to join in on what he had been doing to your daughter earlier, and sensing that more chaos was about to be brought forwards, giving you a little more room. After all, this was how the two of you always taught your little Visenya High Valyrian, because, at the end of the day, it worked out in the end, helping her remember her words. Plus, she secretly loved it, too, but, she’d never tell either of you that.
“I was teaching her to say one day, I am going to ride the biggest dragon in the world.” A prideful smile lingered upon his lips after he’d finished, looking at his daughter fondly. There was a look in his eyes that told the two of you he’d make sure it ended up true - he’d make sure the two of you always got what you deserved, and more. That was his role as husband and father, and he would continue to do so until the Stranger forced him to go.
You gasped mockingly, looking back down at your little girl, pretend disbelief marring your features. Visenya had stopped in her attempts to escape since, now looking up at you with her doe eyes, a small, subtle smile on her lips, waiting. “You know how to say that, my sweet girl,” you cooed sweetly, “kepa (father) taught you not too long ago.”
The memory came back to you instantly, of Aemond speaking about how excited he was of your daughter claiming her own dragon egg to you. It was something that had been on his mind practically since the day you found out you were expecting, and ever since then, he’d gone on about it. So, of course, he was going to teach your daughter how to boldly proclaim such a thing. It was all he wanted to hear from her.
Visenya’s face scrunched up when you’d reminded her she’d been taught it not too long ago, raising her hands in the air like the little drama queen she is. “I know, but I can’t remember!”
“Well,” you began, pointedly, in a sweet tone that had a lingering tease within it, one that came accompanied with a look that instantly told your husband that the usual was about to happen. “You know what happens when you can’t remember…” you gave a pause for more effect, sneakily looking down upon her before the biggest smile broke out upon your features, instantly digging your fingers into her sides as you began tickling her. Even more giggles than before erupted throughout your bedchambers, mixed in with both pleads and begs for you to stop, but, you wouldn’t. It was obvious she was having a fun time just from the sounds she was emitting.
Continuing on with your playful attack, you moved the two of you over in the direction of your bed, lying her down on her back as her little legs kicked in the air, trying to feign you off. Aemond came up beside you, looking down upon his family with loving eyes, laughing at your daughter’s demise, her peals of delight capturing his heart and squeezing it tight.
There was nothing he simply loved more than being trapped within his chambers - something he enjoyed before he’d met you, anyway, preferring his own company rather than having to pretend around others - but, that had only intensified when his two girls came tottering along, looking for someone to cling onto and protect them, something he’d always do even in his sleep.
Nowadays, he never truly complained or minded as much when he had to go about his duties and pretend to be someone he wasn’t really, putting on a front just to please some overweight lords who wanted to get in his family’s good books - not when it meant he had something special waiting for him towards the end of the day when he returned home.
Aemond Targaryen had the two of you under his dragon wings, arms wrapped firmly around him and not letting go any time soon, and he couldn’t ask for anything more… not when, already, he’d felt like he’d accomplished everything within his life.
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looneyleyle · 8 months
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waves ~ f. odair
synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion
warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution
words: 1916
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first person pov
waves.
that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.
so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.
finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.
and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.
miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.
this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.
instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.
"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?
he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.
when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.
so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.
after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.
this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.
waves.
when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.
as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.
i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.
i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.
i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.
waves.
the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.
after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.
"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.
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Flesh for Fantasy
Note: what can I say, it's a good song.
Warnings: smut 18+!!! mention of weed and smoking.
pairing: "modern"!Sihtric x you (f)
summary: Sihtric invited you over to play some games and listen to a record.
wordcount: 4,6k
Masterlist
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1983.
There he was; Sihtric Kjartansson. You saw him across the record store as you browsed through the newly released vinyl section with your friend, Eadith. Sihtric looked so effortlessly stunning when he was just standing there, leaning back against the wall next to the checkout while he spoke to his friends; Uhtred, Osferth and Finan, the latter who owned the record store.
Sihtric's friends were also handsome, you couldn't deny that, but Sihtric was truly something else. He was always a little different and a little more extravagant looking than the other boys, like today. He was wearing untied black leather boots, fitted leather pants and a KISS shirt that was cut into a crop top. Sihtric often wore crop tops and you loved it, as it showed off his well trained body. Around his neck he wore a hammer pendant, which he wore religiously, and around his wrist he had a chunky silver chain bracelet. His hair was partly shaved off, his beautiful curls only gracing one side of his perfectly scarred face. Sihtric was into punk and rock music, and he often wore shirts of bands you liked and sometimes those you had never even heard of. You also knew he drove a black BMW M3, and he was always blasting music loudly in his car as he drove. And last but not least, the pretty boy had two different coloured eyes.
You simply had the biggest crush on him ever since the first time you saw him in that very same record store, and you sort of knew each other, but only vaguely. Eadith had a thing for Finan and they had hooked up more than once in the past. And since she was your best friend, you had hung out with the guys too on several occasions when you joined Eadith at a party. But you never spoke much with Sihtric as he made you a nervous wreck.
Sihtric had glanced at you from across the store a few times already while you searched for a specific single, but to no avail. You eventually gathered the courage to walk up to the guys so you could ask Finan if the vinyl was still in stock, leaving Eadith browsing on her own. Your heart was beating rapidly as you neared them, and you swallowed hard when Sihtric looked at you as you stood right next to him, waiting for Finan to ask you if he could help you, but he seemed rather busy as he argued with Uhtred about how great that new Men at Work single was, and Osferth got caught up in the discussion too. You flashed Sihtric a shy smile while you waited, and he returned a sly smile. He then used the fact that Finan was too busy to acknowledge you to his advantage.
'Hey, sugar,' Sihtric said smoothly, his sly smile still set on his face.
'H-hey,' you blushed heavily.
'Looking for something, doll?'
'Eh, yeah,' you chuckled nervously, 'but I can't find it, so…,' you shrugged.
'What are you looking for then?'
'That new Billy Idol single.'
'Flesh for Fantasy?'
'Yeah,' you smiled, 'it's really new.'
'Mhm, I know,' Sihtric pushed himself away from the wall, 'let me have a look with you then,' he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, walking you with him to the newly released records section.
Technically, Sihtric didn't work in the record store, nor did Uhtred and Osferth, but they all often helped Finan out since they loved records as much as the Irish man himself. So whenever someone needed help and they were around, none of them would hesitate to help out.
'I already checked here,' you said, feeling all giddy as you were closer than ever to your crush right now, 'but it's not here.'
'Really?' Sihtric frowned and let go of you, then quickly flipped through numerous vinyl to find your desired single, 'hm, looks like you're right, sweetheart. Guess we sold out already. I'm sorry, love.'
'Ah, man,' you pouted, 'I really wanted to listen to it.'
'I'm sure there will be a restock next weekend, so you'll have to hang in there a little longer,' he winked, 'also, MTV plays it like every hour, just switch on your tv, doll.'
'But then I have to sit through the rest of the shitty music they play too,' you argued.
Sihtric chuckled and looked you up and down while he leaned back, his elbows on the countless vinyl next to you, 'Well, if you really want to listen to it,' he said, 'I got a copy back home, darling. Why don't you stop by sometime?'
'What?' you asked wide-eyed, 'oh, n-no, I don't, eh, want to be a bother or anything.'
Sihtric smiled when you looked away, desperately trying to hide your flushed face, which he thought was adorable and he couldn't help but chuckle again.
'You're not a bother, angel,' he said and nudged your elbow, 'besides, it's more fun to listen to music together anyway, isn't it? We could also play some video games too. I saw you coming out of the game store a few days ago,' he confessed, 'so I figured you like to game too, correct me if I'm wrong. But we could play some games and listen to some records, you know, veg out. No pressure though.'
You looked with panic in your eyes towards Eadith, who was behind Sihtric, and she mouthed a 'do it!' to you.
'I, eh, I- I guess, yeah, s-sure.'
'Rad,' Sihtric smiled, 'hm, you got any plans tomorrow afternoon?'
You looked at Eadith again, who shook her head and mouthed 'no.'
'Not… not really, n-no,' you said to the pretty boy, who still smiled at you and leaned in a little too close for it to not be flirty.
'Well,' he said, 'then if you'd like to, we can meet up here at four? I'll give you a ride to my place.'
'Yeah, o-okay.'
'Rad,' Sihtric said again, 'I'll see you tomorrow then, sugar,' he winked.
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You were so nervous to meet up with Sihtric the next day that you had called Eadith hours before four. You went on and on about how you didn't want to get your hopes up with him, that there's no way he would be into you and eventually you even decided you didn't want to go anymore.
'You're going!' Eadith hissed through the phone, 'he clearly likes something about you, so find out what he wants.'
'But… but what if he only wants to… you know, like, have sex?'
'Well, then you have sex with him! Christ, girl,' Eadith sighed, 'you've liked him for so long, you can't not meet up with him now that he finally made a move!'
'I don't know…'
'Come on,' your friend groaned, 'what are you afraid of?'
'God, I don't know,' you sighed as you laid on your bed, twirling the telephone wire around your finger, 'what if he just meant it friendly?'
'Did you not see the way he was eyeing you up? There was nothing friendly about that. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen him check you out. He always glances at you when you're in the store. And he even remembered seeing you a few days ago. This is not just friendly, I promise you. It will be fine. Sihtric is a nice guy, okay? He's not going to use you once and just dump your ass. He's not Uhtred. Sihtric is the loyal type of guy, everything will be fine, just go for it.'
With those words kept in mind, you got ready to leave for the record store. You put some light blush on your cheeks, some black mascara and eyeliner, and you put a popping pink lipstick on your lips, which matched your pink eyeshadow. You were dressed in a short black dress with fishnet tights and black sneakers underneath, and a pink denim jacket draped over your shoulders. You put on a necklace with a lightning pendant before you left out the door, and you walked to the store while butterflies taunted your stomach. You were so nervous for your date, as you weren't even sure if it was a date date, that you felt like throwing up. Regardless, you made it to the record store without getting sick, and you found Sihtric already waiting for you at the parking lot. He was wearing a white Vikings crop top with denim jeans underneath. His jeans were tucked into his black signature boots and held up by a black leather belt. You felt your heart skip a beat when you neared him while he sat on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. Unlike yesterday, he was wearing several rings on his tattooed fingers today, and he fidgeted with one while he stared towards the record store entrance.
He only averted his eyes from the store when he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye, and he smiled when he saw it was you approaching. He breathed out the smoke he had inhaled and flicked away his cigarette while he jumped up.
'Hey, sweetheart,' he said, so smoothly again as he embraced you.
'Hi,' was all you managed to say, and you inhaled his scent; a mixture of cigarettes and fruity bubblegum.
'You look bodacious,' he smiled, 'how are you doing today?' he asked and opened the car door for you.
You lied and said you were doing perfectly fine, while your nerves almost got the best of you, and you took a deep breath when Sihtric slammed the door shut and made his way over to the driver's seat. He smiled at you as he started his car, and soon the familiar sound to Black Sabbath's Crazy Train blasted through the car. 
'I like your necklace,' he said, 'lightning. Matches my pendant,' he winked, and you were glad that the music filled up the silence when Sihtric drove off the parking lot, because you forgot how to speak after his compliment.
'So,' Sihtric then said and lowered the volume of his radio, 'what game did you get the other day then?'
'Hm? Oh, eh, I, eh… Donkey Kong 3,' you mumbled.
'Really? You played it already? I heard it's wicked.'
'Oh,' you chuckled, relieved to find out Sihtric didn't think you were a loser, 'y-yeah, it's pretty wicked. You could, you know, maybe, like, borrow it sometime?'
'Really?' Sihtric smiled, 'yeah, that'd be nice. Hey, you can check out some of my games, and if you see anything you like you can borrow them too.'
'Really?' you fought a smile.
'Of course, why not? Sharing is caring, right?' Sihtric chuckled and smoothly placed his hand on your knee while he kept his eyes on the road.
You silently gasped at his sudden touch, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you felt yourself blush and completely melt when he began to slowly rub his thumb over your skin.
'I got the latest Mario Bros game,' he said, 'we could play that one today if you like.'
You agreed to his plan with a smile, and Sihtric kept his hand on your knee until he had to shift gears several times. Then, he kept his hand on his gear stick, while lightly tracing your knee with his fingertip as you sat close enough. Once he pulled up at his house, he was quick to get out of his car and open your door, and he walked you up to his apartment.
As soon as you stepped through the door you felt intimidated by how cool Sihtric was. Even cooler than you thought. His small but cosy place was decorated with flags of some of his favourite musicians; Aerosmith, Mötley Crüe, KISS, AC/DC, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Blondie, The Clash, Iron Maiden, and last but not least; Billy Idol. He had a few cabinets that held several skulls as decoration, as well as a variety of headphones and game consoles. On one wall a sword was mounted, and underneath it you saw a reverted pentacle, which he had painted on the wall himself, simply because he thought it looked cool. He had a tv, a record player, a stereo with a huge speaker set, loads and loads of videotapes and hoards of vinyl and videogames. Here and there were some clothes scattered around, and his small place didn't have a couch, only a bed, one recliner chair and a table with two chairs next to the kitchen. Sihtric noticed you were a little taken aback by his home, and he smiled while kicking off his boots.
'Too messy?' he asked.
'N-no,' you chuckled and took off your sneakers, 'no, it's fine. I just… I- I like your… decor. It's pretty rad.'
'Yeah?' Sihtric smiled, a little cocky, 'thanks.'
He told you to get comfortable and offered you a drink. You awkwardly sat down on the side of his bed and waited until he returned to you with your drink.
'No need to be shy, darling,' Sihtric laughed softly and joined you on his bed, 'just act like you're at home.'
He laid down comfortably and beckoned you to sit closer. You scooted over and propped up a pillow to lean back against while Sihtric shuffled even closer to you. He turned to lay on his side and you caught him looking down at your legs, while he slowly licked his lips and bit down on his lower lip. A cheeky smile appeared as he brought his hand back to your knee again, and he lightly trailed his fingers up and down your thigh.
'So,' he said softly, 'you want to play a game first or listen to that single?'
'W-we could play a game first,' you said as cool as possible while his warm hands set you on fire.
'Mhm,' he hummed and looked up at you, 'you're really pretty you know?'
'I bet you say that to a lot of girls,' you blurted out.
Sihtric stared at you, surprised, and an amused smile appeared on his face.
'You're right,' he admitted, 'I do. But I only do that in the record store,' he shrugged, 'you know, fake flirting.'
'So you're fake flirting now?'
'No, I'm not. I only fake flirt at the store to boost the sales for Finan,' Sihtric revealed and continued to slowly caress your skin, 'I'm never serious when I flirt there. However,' he paused to look back into your eyes, 'I'm very serious right now.'
'Oh,' you mumbled and looked away. 
Sihtric enjoyed watching you being at a loss for words for a moment, and he then chuckled softly again before he sat up.
'Well, let's play some games then.'
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After two hours of gaming, you finally felt more relaxed while Sihtric became more flirty. As the game was loading to the next level, he pulled you in his lap and sat back against the bed's headboard, and he snuck his arms under yours, around your waist, locking you in as he held his Nintendo controller with both hands. You sat back against his chest, feeling a mixture of nerves and comfort when he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You watched him play the next game and giggled when he lost, terribly, to which he gave you a teasing squeeze.
'Are you laughing at me, darling?' he asked playfully, 'this is a hard level, okay?'
'Sure,' you laughed, 'or maybe you're just not that good.'
'Oh, really?' Sihtric dropped the controller next to him on the bed, 'like you're so good, lady.'
'Better than you,' you grinned as you looked back at him, 'I won the most games here.'
'How dare you?' he squinted his eyes, 'insulting me in my own house?'
Sihtric gave you a mean glare but then broke out in smiles and started to poke your ribs. You yelped and tried to fight him, and soon you were playing pretend wrestling with the handsome Dane on his bed. It didn't take long before he had you flipped over on your back while you were both laughing, and out of nowhere he suddenly cupped your cheek and kissed you firmly. The sound of both your laughter was silenced instantly, and for a moment the only sound being heard was the nintendo menu soundtrack and the beating of your own heart in your ears. When the kiss was broken after a few long seconds, Sihtric looked at you with a half smile and he slowly traced his thumb over your lower lip. When he felt your hands move up his body and underneath his cropped shirt, he leaned back in to capture you in another firm, head spinning kiss. Soon, the sound of heavy breaths and soft gasps filled the room along with the cheerful Nintendo melody, and your hands moved through his hair while he squeezed your waist as you made out on his bed.
'Hold on,' Sihtric husked and pushed himself up from the bed, 'let me put on that record now, sweetheart.'
He quickly grabbed the vinyl you had been looking for at the store the day before, and he switched on his record player and pressed auto-repeat. When the song began to play, Sihtric took a small box out of a drawer and returned to you on the bed. You sat up and leaned in when he beckoned you closer. He opened the box and looked at you as he leaned his shoulder against yours.
'You want to share some devil's lettuce, baby?' he asked, sweetly.
'W-what?' you frowned, confused, 'I… hm, what is that?'
Sihtric smiled at you, but then realised you were truly confused and didn't know what he meant.
'Devil's lettuce,' he smiled and held up a half smoked blunt, 'is weed, sweetheart.'
'Oh,' your eyes grew big, 'oh, I, eh… I've never… you know…'
'Wanna try it with me, love?'
Your eyes darted between Sihtric and the blunt he held up, and you smiled nervously while you considered his offer. But Sihtric already knew your answer, and he didn't want you to do anything you didn't truly want only to impress him or whatever you thought you had to do. He already liked you for you and didn't want to change you.
'Hey, it's okay, doll,' he almost whispered and held your chin, 'you don't have to try it if you don't want to.'
'Yeah, I… I don't think I want to,' you admitted shyly.
'No worries,' he pecked your lips, 'mind if I smoke though?'
You told him it was fine, and you sat back watching him as he lit the blunt and took a few long drags. He closed his eyes and smiled, then threw his head back slowly and exhaled the strongly scented smoke through his lips.
I am experienced, oh yeah…Face to face… and back to back…
You watched him in awe, the way he sat next to you with his eyes closed, his head thrown back and his lips parted in a smile, his neck tattoo completely exposed and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed; it was enough to turn you into the neediest lady. And then he slowly opened his eyes, put the blunt on an ashtray and turned to look into your eyes.
You see and feel… my sex attack…
You gazed at each other and he leaned in, cupped your cheek with one hand and pulled you in for a heated kiss.
Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…
He pushed you down on the bed, his hands shoving underneath your skirt, pushing it up and easily pulling down your fishnet tights and panties at once. You were quick to remove his shirt and worked his belt while he kissed you, holding your face with his warm, slightly trembling hands, his tongue in your mouth allowing you to taste the Devil's lettuce he just smoked.
We want…
Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…
Sihtric took off his jeans and boxers and then completely took off your dress, leaving you both completely exposed while the music blasted through his room. He quickly grabbed a condom out of his nightstand drawer and pulled the blankets over you both. He then climbed on top of you, slowly grinding and teasing you with his hard cock, rubbing it against your soaked folds to the rhythm while he kissed you hungrily. He brought one hand to your throat and moved his other slowly down your side, to your waist. Your breath hitched when he lightly squeezed your throat, and your eyes widened as that was not something you were used to. Your previous lovers had been rather boring, so to say, and you looked up at Sihtric with uncertainty in your eyes while you placed your hands on his wrist.
'Relax, darling,' he murmured against your lips, 'you're safe with me, I promise,' he pecked your lips and then flicked his tongue teasingly, 'and if you don't like it then you'll have have to say it, and I'll stop, okay?'
You hummed in agreement and slowly released your grip on his wrist, then brought your hands up into his hair again, adding pressure to keep his lips locked with yours while you kissed. He then teased your clit with his fingers, earning soft moans and gasps from you even before he slid his fingers inside you. And when he did, you tensed for a moment at the stretching sensation, but you relaxed just quickly when you felt his lips drag down from your chin to your neck. You smiled and squirmed while he slowly thrusted two digits in and out of you, completely dissolving into the pleasure he gave you. Sihtric watched you with hazy eyes, admiring the pure bliss on your face and the sounds you made just for him and because of him.
'You're making such a mess for me, sweetheart,' he purred and continued to pleasure you with just his hands, to which you smiled and bit down on your lip.
Sihtric watched you closely with an intense gaze, desperately wanting to see your eyes roll back in pleasure, just for him, so he picked up his pace to get you to the edge as fast as possible. But he also wanted this moment to last; he wanted to torture you in the most pleasant of ways as long as he could. He wanted to break you, lovingly though, and he wanted to make you beg. He worshipped you and adored you, and he didn't want to hurt you, ever. But the thought of making you cry was one that wouldn't leave his mind while he watched you gasp and moan so sweetly for him. He wanted to see your eyeliner and mascara run down your face, and see your pink lipstick smudged and have his own lips and neck covered with the popping colour. He wanted to see your eyeshadow stains on his pillowcase when he was done with you, as well as feeling the burning sensation of the scratches that your nails would leave on his skin. Sihtric wanted to fuck you. Fuck you to the point you're all marked up and claimed by him. He wanted to own you, but not in a psychotic kind of way, no, only in a loving way.
And as he felt your walls clench around his fingers, knowing your climax was approaching, he pulled away from you. You gasped at the sudden loss, a surprised look painted your face as you looked up at Sihtric, who smiled slyly as he watched you being all needy and desperate for him.
'S-Sihtric,' you breathed, 'please…'
'I know, sugar,' he cooed and repeatedly kissed your lips gently, 'I know you want more.'
'Please,' you begged.
You heard his soft chuckle in your ear and then he swiftly moved to lay behind you. He placed his big, warm hand on your hip, pulling you flush against his body underneath the sheets and he wrapped his other arm around you. He peppered your neck with soft kisses while he smoothly slid his hard, twitching cock inside you. A sharp gasp escaped you, smiling, and the music in the background suddenly became quiet as the record player prepared itself to repeat the single. Seconds later you heard the familiar beat again, and you threw your head back at the feeling of Sihtric's slow, deep thrusts inside you. He kept his pace steady, rhythmically, and he cupped your breast only to massage it before he squeezed your soft flesh.
'Fuck, ahh,' he breathed, then chuckled and grazed your ear with his lips, 'I've never had a pussy this good.'
He brought his hand back to your throat, lightly squeezing it, and he growled when he felt your walls clenched tightly around him while a needy cry left your mouth.
'Hm,' he hummed, 'you like it, don't you?'
'Y-yes,' you whined, and moaned when you felt his grasp on your hip becoming firmer.
Sihtric trailed his fingers over your neck, up your chin, and he traced your lips lightly.
'Suck my fingers for me, doll?' he whispered brokenly while he began to thrust harder into you.
You did as he asked, sloppily sucking the fingers he had fucked you with before, and the sound of his heavy breathing only made you suck his fingers more eagerly.
'That's good, darling,' Sihtric rasped, 'just like that. Keep going for me.'
Your moans were muffled as your mouth was full, and only a faint cry of pleasure snuck out when he suddenly slapped your sensitive spot. You squirmed in his embrace, desperately wanting to reach your climax, but he continued to tease and edge you while he fucked you slow and steady. 
You cry…
Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…
You brought your hand up to the back of his neck, clawing at his skin, turning your face to the side so you felt his hot breath on your lips and in your mouth as he pulled out his fingers. His pace became rougher, and each time you neared your climax he slapped your pussy hard and sunk his teeth in your neck, marking you, until you begged him to let you finish as tears ran down your face.
'P-please,' you cried, 'I n-need to… c-cum.'
And then he finally flipped you over, face down and pressed into his pillow, and he grabbed your waist to fuck you relentlessly. The fire in your lower abdomen rose quickly, and your muscles tightened up as the heat finally exploded inside you and spread through your entire body. You grabbed onto Sihtric's arm he had around you, digging your nails into his flesh while you came with loud moans, and inaudible curse words left your lips while he fucked you through your climax, chasing his own. And when his pace became sloppy, he dug his fingers in your your waist and you felt him pulsate when he stilled inside you. You were both breathing hard and heavy, gasping for air while you collapsed into each other's arm, and you were only brought back from your highs when you suddenly heard the record player preparing itself to repeat the record again. 
You looked into Sihtric's eyes as he held you, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb while he gazed back into your eyes. You both had flushed cheeks and yours were covered with your smudged make-up, which Sihtric thought was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And you loved seeing your lipstick stains on his lips, cheeks, and smudged all over his chin, neck and shoulders. He leaned in and sweetly pecked your lips, then smiled at you.
'So… you heard that record enough now?'
'I think so, for today at least,' you chuckled and buried your face in his neck.
'Hm,' Sihtric hummed, smiling, 'well, we could always listen to it again tomorrow.'
'Only tomorrow?'
'Tomorrow,' Sihtric whispered and kissed your forehead, 'and every other day after.'
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taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a
181 notes · View notes
sunnyie-eve · 2 months
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5. Beautiful
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Series: Devious Opportunity
Pairing: (Aegon II Targaryen x Cousin! OFC Targaryen!)
Word Count: 1.1k
Notes: Hinted Smut, Incest, Pregnancy, Childbirth,
| MASTERLIST |
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The two pass time catching up and just talking and sitting in silence. At the moment Aegon had his head resting on her lap as she played with his hair, "Lets go for a ride on Sunfyre." He sits up with a smile.
"And we run into my father up there on his way back?" She laughs.
"What if we just fly far away? Leave Westeros together. No one to stop us from seeing and talking to each other."
"Aegon, I can't do that." She tells him so he shuts her up by leaning in with his hand cupping the back of her skull making their lips touch. Aegon let his tears fall freely, and Celeste could taste them in the kiss. Sighing in slight relief as she cupped his face, her soft skin on his encouraging him to look at her.
"I'm here for you." She tells him holding his face as she placed feather light kisses all over him, hearing him let out a quiet whimper as she finally connected her lips with his on her own. Aegon suddenly became more forceful, his desperation pouring into the kiss, grabbing onto her waist with a bruising grip.
Right before the sunrises both Celeste and Aegon wake up from their little rest then she watches him fly off heading back to Kings Landing. She felt a bit bad because their last words to each other was her telling him to just move on and forget about her. She didn't want him getting in trouble from Otto, his mother, or her father. She cared about him and didn't want him going through it.
"You know how hard that is going to be for me?"
"Ageon, please for me so I don't have to worry about you." She tells him.
"Celeste please."
"Aegon, I care you but I don't feel the same." She lies to him, "I don't love you like that. I didn't feel anything during our time together."
He stays quiet getting on Sunfyre leaving her and that would be the last time they ever saw or talked to each other until another two years.
Walking back to her room she sees her father sitting on her bed waiting with a disappointing look on his face, "You have nothing to worry about, father. I told him to forget about me." She tells him.
"Aegon came all the way here to see you?"
"Yes, he just left." She looks over at him, "I'm not sorry."
"I know," He stands up walking up to her, "But I'm sorry." He lets her know before leaving her room.
-
Sitting on the sofa in her room reading Jace wonders in taking a seat next to her, "Are you here to bug us again with your presence?" She asks keeping her eyes on the pages.
"I'm not bugging them just you." He smiles, "They like when I poke at them." He pokes at her swollen belly making the babe move.
"They're moving because you're bothering them, Jace." She turns her head to look at him still poking her belly with a smile.
"I say differently. They love their uncle Jace."
"Technically you aren't their uncle. You're their cousin." She corrects him so he hits her.
"I'm their uncle." He smiles then notices the look on her face as she touches her stomach. "I'll get my mother." He gets up rushing out of the room.
Screams of pain ends up shaking the walls as hours pass by, "I can't do this anymore! Please make it stop!" Celeste yells, clawing at the bed-sheets.
"You can do it dear. You're a strong girl." Rhaenyra holds one of her hands to help her through it, "You're doing a great job."
"I can't take it anymore." She cries squeezing her hand as one of the handmaids dab at her forehead with a cloth.
"You're almost there."
Celeste groans in pain, "I can feel the head. Just a few more pushes." She's told.
Groaning even loudly, her teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked her frame. Pain radiated down her spine and into her groin. She felt like she was being ripped apart at the seams.
"You hear that? You're almost done. You're doing so good."
She squeezed onto Rhaenyra's hand as hard as she could, pushing with all the strength in her body. The harder she pushed, the sooner it would be over. She needed it to be over. With a final push, her vision began to blur and blank mind went blank.
Before she knew it, loud cries pulled her back to Earth, and coo's from the handmaidens filled the room. She laid back with a sigh of relief. As she relaxes Rhaenyra smiles at the baby before Celeste is told to keep pushing.
"I'm not done?!" She groans still pushing.
"It's twins." She's told as she gives birth to the last one.
"Both are girls." Rhaenyra tells her with a smile.
Celeste holds both of her babies to her chest while looking at them she starts to cry feeling something she's never felt before. "Is this feeling normally?" She laughs wiping her tears away.
"Yes, especially with your first." Rhaenyra tells her.
The handmaids clean up both Celeste and the babies before leaving her to rest for a bit. Laying in her clean bed she looks over at the babies next to her in a crib. She couldn't help but find her girls so beautiful. It was love at first sight with her.
Later when Celeste was well rested enough Jace and Luke were excited to meet the baby, "We hear it was girls!" Luke shouts so Jace tells him to quiet down.
"Yes," Celeste smiles.
"What did you decide to name them?" Jace asks as she hands them each a baby..
"Dahlia," She motions to the one Jace was holding, "And Astraea," She looks at the one Luke was holding.
The boys found them both beautiful just like her mother was. They took turns holding them till Daemon entered the room so they left them alone. Daemon walks over looking at Celeste holding the girls. Stepping closer he takes in how they looked.
"They're about identical to you when you were born." He speaks up.
"I didn't know you were even around then for that." Celeste says not looking at him but her girls in her arms. "Do you want to hold them?" She looks at him and he steps back, "Father, please."
Daemon steps forward taking Dahlia from her first and she could have sworn she saw him smile a bit, "That's Dahlia, she has a mole near her eye while Astraea has one on the tip of her nose." She lets him know who was who.
"I thought I was doing the right thing with you. I should have had you with me." He lets out looking over at her.
"I forgive you, father."
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spawksstuff · 4 months
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De on Merv Griffin Star Trek II Promotion
Transcript below.
Merv: Well you saw DeForest in this last scene that we saw appear uh not the docking the- what do you call it? The?
Leonard: I’m not going to help you.
Merv: Whatever they do with the ship in space to get it going.
Leonard: We’re taking it out of space dock.
Merv: Taking it out of space-that’s what you call it?
Leonard: Yes.
Merv: They were taking it out of the space-I thought there were technical words.
Leonard: Space dock is Bones McCoy.
Merv: Going to de-dock. De-dock the spaceship Yeah, yeah.
William: (unintelligible)
Merv: Well this is the young fella who portrays the outspoken ship’s surgeon Doctor Leonard Bones McCoy. Would you please greet DeForest Kelley.
DeForest: First off-
(unintelligible)
DeForest: Yeah. I want to tell you that I have nothing coming out other than Star Trek II except a 75-year-old turtle which just came out of hibernation.
William: Oh my word.
Merv: You wanna talk about it DeForest?
DeForest: Well her name is Myrtle
Merv: Myrtle the Turtle?
DeForest: Myrtle the Turtle which is a very original name of course.
Leonard: He or she?
DeForest: Myrtle’s a she. I gave you remember?
Leonard: Yes I remember.
Merv: And how do you know she’s 75? Where’d you peak around?
DeForest: Well a friend of ours gave us the turtle which was shown to a vet and the vet arrived at the age.
William: The rings around the shell.
DeForest: The rings around the shell and we’ve had the turtle 10 years and we felt it would be a good thing to have something in the house older than both of us.
Merv: Was the house in an uproar when she came out of hibernation?
DeForest: Just a terrible uproar. It upsets us each spring, it’s a terrible feeling-but I’m glad she’s out. But I must tell you something before I forget about it. I’m so scared, I never do talk shows you know.
Merv: Well we’re delighted you’re here
DeForest: I’m absolutely a wreck I must tell you
William: You don’t like a wreck Leonard-DeForest
Leonard: You look alright.
Merv: You look very relaxed and comfortable.
DeForest: Thank you.
Leonard: You’re handling it beautifully De.
DeForest: That’s what you always tell me.
Merv: You’ve not always been a good guy on film.
DeForest: No, no I haven’t.
Merv: You had your years of being the bad guy.
DeForest: Yes indeed. Yes, a great number of them.
Merv: Which is preferred DeForest?
DeForest: I don’t know. I spent about 10 years trying to get out of the heavy department. There were a group of us running around at the time, James Coburn, and a guy named Jack Elam, with the crazy eye, and there were about 5 of us that were running from show to show. And I got into this thing, I like them because they really are the most interesting roles I find actually.
Merv: More guts to ’em.
DeForest: But then like everything else, I wanted to get out of it. And I had just- I was finding my way out of it, slowly. I had done a film called “Raintree County” in which I got away-he was still a heavy, I kill Lee Marvin in the show.
Merv: That very seldom almost ever happens.
DeForest: But he was a good guy as far as I was concerned. I only kill one guy. But then Eddie Dmytryk put me in a role at Paramount called “Where Love Has Gone” and that was not a heavy. Then I went into Star Trek after that and I got into the Doctor McCoy thing.
Merv: And you’ve just been a lovely person ever since.
DeForest: Yes, I’ve just been darling.
Merv: What’s your most vicious moment on the screen do you feel DeForest?
Leonard: Insulting me.
DeForest: Yes, this is right here.
Leonard: All the time.
DeForest: My situation right here.
Leonard: This is terrible what I have to put up with him.
DeForest: I must tell you about some friends of yours that I do not know personally but on Star Trek one, I went to Australia and New Zealand to do some promo stuff for the film and on the way back I stopped in Hawaii for rest and relaxation. And while there, I was staying at the Kahala Hilton, if you’re familiar with it-
Merv: Very
DeForest: The units that are in the back of the hotel that lead right out to the beach the apartments-
Merv: Oh yeah right out on the-
DeForest: Yes.
Merv: Everyone always fights for those.
DeForest:  And all we did was sleep we were so you know with the jetlag and the whole thing so I had been down to the pool a couple of times and found that it wasn’t too- hi Bob how are you? That it wasn’t-that’s Bob Sallin
Merv: We know.  
DeForest: Yeah we saw him. You put the camera on him, handsome. We had, Carolyn had not been out of the unit hardly at all and I had wondered out. I went to the swimming pool and I found the usual thing, signing autographs and that sort of thing. And I thought well that’s no fun so, but I did see this beautiful coral reef running out to sea and I said, “Carolyn” I said “before we go back to California” I said “you gotta come out, at least walk out on this coral reef”. So we walked down these steps and there was the grass and then the beach. And as we got to the foot of the stairs this applause, tremendous applause, these people on the beach, started to applaud and I thought “My God it can’t” you know this is impossible.
Merv: Well your best performances-
DeForest: Carolyn said “just ignore it and keep walking”. I said “I can’t do that.” They just kept applauding and kept applauding. I said “I can’t do that” I said “I must go and speak to them, at least say hello.” So I walk out there, and here was Don Rickles and his wife.
Merv: Probably coming out of the coral.
DeForest: That’s right, out of the coral. Steve and Eydie.
Merv: Oh the whole gang.
DeForest: And Bob Newhart and his wife. I had never met them before. Come to find out they’re the biggest Trekkies in the world. They had seen the film the night before and they were thrilled with it. The only thing was they Eydie said that she was very unhappy about the theme, the music, and she missed the Star Trek theme. But I had to tell you that because I’ve seen them on your show so many times.
Merv: Oh I know. And I have also been there at the same time they have been at the Kahala.
DeForest: They go there every Christmas.
Merv: And the only fortunate one who is ever there is that dolphin who can swim underwater and get away from Don Rickles. Let’s show another-I can’t wait. I figure if I show enough of these clips I won’t have to pay to see the movie.
DeForest: We haven’t seen it.
Merv: Oh, well this is where Khan, or “Can” as the case may be. Richardo “Mat-ol-ban” Montalban has killed almost everybody but Captain Kirk. (Note: earlier Shatner was being interview alone, and at one point he pronounced "Wrath" as "Wroth" so Merv and Leonard had been teasing him about his pronunciation .)
DeForest: I see.
Merv: Oh you haven’t seen it?
DeForest: No I haven’t seen it.
Merv: Is there a doctor in the house?
DeForest: But I see what you’re talking about. Yes, you’ve got it here.
Merv: Another scene from Star Trek II. Watch.
When they come back from the clip William talks about Ricardo and then they go to a commercial so I ended it here. The interview continues with Bibi Besch coming out, but I have not been able to find that portion of it.
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kage-567 · 4 months
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Sukugo fic recs [part II]
Fuck flowers, what flowers by misstraffy
The first time Gojo saw him, it was in front of his flower shop.   In which Gojo falls in love with a man who isn't ready for it yet. He just doesn't realize until it's too late.
No Color, No Light by nekk0mancer
"That was the second absolute truth of Gojo Satoru: he was completely and utterly alone. The red string of fate that everyone else had, his was either severed or never existed." Soulmate AU where people can't see color until they look into the eyes of their soulmate
Fan the Flames by nekk0mancer
Satoru’s new roommate is a complete nightmare, and things get heated between them quickly.
grief felt so like fear by losingcontrolnow
“Something on your mind, sorcerer?” Sukuna asks, his voice a deep, low drawl and somewhere inside Gojo, it makes a cavity, makes a home and lives inside him. He descends the throne, white robes and bloody hands and fuck, Gojo can’t take his eyes off him. This murderer. This killer. This evil incarnate.
But, above all, Gojo’s equal. Sukuna wins. He saves Gojo for the last.
And in the middle of my Chaos, there was You by Luluwoo
Thanks to Kenjaku and his frustratingly complex bag of tricks, Sukuna and Gojo have been trapped in the Prison Realm together. With the high of their fight still lingering in their veins and being confined to such close courters, they are forced to address the strange, almost comfortable bond the two of them now share thanks to having finally met their match in each other, Gojo's questionable morality and Sukuna's dangerous allure combine to create the perfect storm, culminating in them taking a path that leads to an outcome neither of then had ever really expected. Or alternatively   Q : HOW MUCH DO YOU SIMP FOR GOJO ? SUKUNA : Yes.
Slut by InfiniteTeal
The honored one goes against the king of curses. However, Sukuna easily becomes distracted by Gojo’s indestructible compression shirt. He gets so distracted that Gojo can’t help but play around with him a bit.
When We Were Dreaming by YunaYamiMouto
This story is about that awkward moment when two insanely powerful individuals realize they have technically grown up together despite their births being a millennia apart and one was practically born to be the other's enemy. Needless to say, NO ONE was expecting THIS. The Fates really liked their games, it seemed.
To Covet a God by Luluwoo
“Do you remember the last words I spoke to you?” Sukuna asked. Of course Gojo remembered. He could never forget the satisfaction that had enveloped his soul when he’d been given those words of praise in his final moments. Should he feel guilty about that? Probably. “You said I was magnificent,” Gojo whispered. “Which you are, What else?” The Sorcerer swallowed down the lingering taste of copper on his tongue, conjuring up the words forever engraved into the cosmos of his mind. “You said you would never forget me for as long as you lived.” “Exactly. And then, after realising how worthless the others were in comparison to me—to us, I changed my mind.” Sukuna leaned forward, bringing with him the smell of incense and metal. “Why have you as a memory when I could simply just have you.”
|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|
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mercurygray · 7 months
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Mission Reports
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Interrogation Hut, June 25th, 1943.
The first time was always the hardest.
Just once, Marion would have liked to have the CO, or the Air Exec, or someone with a modicum of authority sit down with the new fellows before they went out on their first mission and actually tell them what would happen when they got back - that they’d get out of their plane, and pack silently into the back of a deuce and a half, and file into the Interrogation hut, and then, once they’d all sat down, someone would start asking questions and they’d start talking.
But no one ever did.
And so Marion and her girls were faced with a room full of anxious, terrified men who’d just had their first taste of combat, men who’d just seen their friends shot and their planes wrecked and who had rushed along to they knew not where and shouted at to keep quiet and then asked, in unsparing terms, to tell the good lieutenant just what had happened when they were still trying to figure it out themselves.
(The fact that the people taking notes were a team of women was a different problem, but that too would pass, with time.)
John Egan was hanging around the room like a kicked puppy, superintending the proceedings with enough of his own anxiety to start a house on fire. Marion almost wanted to ask him to leave, but that would have been too much, and too soon - these were his men, and his mission, and whatever Hughlin might have thought about his leadership, this was what leaders did. They saw things through.
Still, when the last of the men had finally given his reports, and the whole group had trooped off to barracks so that each man could shower and shave and peel himself out of his flight suit, Egan remained, pent up and pacing.
She liked the young Air Exec, if the truth were told. A little enthusiastic some days, and his singing voice certainly left a lot to be desired, but he was truthful, John Egan was - no artifice, no hidden meaning. Either he said what he meant to, or he didn’t speak at all, and it was a rare day indeed when Bucky Egan didn’t have a single thing to say. And he cared deeply about people - she’d seen him steal oranges out of the mess hall for the village children, and empty his pockets at the sweet shop so that he’d have candy to pass around. He’d even brought her flowers, once - swiped from the roadside, and presented, with very little fanfare, before a staff meeting, a little boy handing his teacher his ill-gotten gains. Hughlin had scowled at him for it, but Marion didn’t much mind, and she’d thanked Egan for them and asked the kitchen for a jam jar to display them in. He deserved some credit, even when Hughlin didn’t think much of his command potential. Everyone deserved a little beauty, even in the middle of a war - and a little patience, too.
Marion collected a spare pencil from underneath one of the chairs and took a chance on a question she already knew the answer to. “I take it you're not a man who likes being left on the bench, Major.”
Egan practically snarled. “You ever met a guy who was? I'm not doing anything down here! I ought to be up there with them, where the real work is!”
Oh, there it was. Marion took a breath and looked him square in the eye to deliver her punch – “Are you saying that what I do here isn't real work, Major?”
That pulled him up short enough - just like she’d known it would. Maybe he didn’t respect Hughlin, but he’d never had an argument with her in the two months they’d known each other, even if he was technically her superior. (The edge added by five extra years of age helped a lot.) “No, I - just…”
“There are many reasons why I'm not up in a plane right now, and the fact that I'm not a pilot, or a man, is only one of them,” Marion said, her voice as non judgemental as she could manage. “Even if I were, the best place for me is here, where I am, doing what I am doing. Because what we do here, on the ground, is valuable and necessary. It means telegrams get sent to worrying parents. It means the Red Cross knows to look for names. It means men get the medical care they need. It means the next time we send the wing up, we know where the flak is, we know that the guns work, we know that we have done everything we can to bring them home.” She continued to hold his eye, though he looked very much like he wanted to look away. “And when you say things like that, Major Egan, like real work, it denigrates all the very real work it takes to get those planes up in the air every morning.”
He looked away, down at his shoes, and sank down into a chair, trying to make his tall frame a less easy target. Insult me all you like, John. I can take it. But not the cooks, or the mechanics, or the clerks in the mail room. Because every single of them thinks they’re not doing real work, either, and they’re all wrong.
She took another breath, tried to smile. “None of this is glamorous. None of this will get you a medal. But it will bring your friends home, and that is noble and right, and good. That is what a good leader does. That is part of caring, too.” And you care so much, John Egan, that that big heart of yours is going to burst with it some day. Don’t let anyone take that truth from you. You care, and that’s a hell of a lot more than some officers I’ve seen.
“Just feels wrong, is all,” He admitted, finally, drawing his shoulders up to his ears like he was suddenly cold. “Them getting shot at while I'm down here. Was easier when it was just me getting into it, but now that it’s them…” He left the sentence to hang in the air.
Marion nodded. “I feel that every single day. I can tell you that it does not get easier. But doing the work helps.”
“Doing the work?” He sounded lost.
“You have crew in the hospital. Go visit them and see they're not forgotten. You have supply requisitions to sign. Go make sure your mechanics have the parts they need. You have a bed. You need to sleep in it.”
He snorted. “Sleep in it?”
“So you can do the work tomorrow, too,” Marion said, unflinchingly. “And the next day, and the day after that. And it will not get easier, and you will not like it more. But the work will be done, and you will have done what you can do here to help them up there.”
He rose from the chair he’d been slouching into, taking all of this in with the same quiet consideration he gave many things when people weren’t looking. “Why doesn't anyone tell you?”
Why doesn’t anyone tell you what it’s like to watch your friends go out to die? “Because they can't,” Marion admitted. “Not until you've seen it.” Then you understand it too well.
He nodded again. “Thanks, Captain Brennan.”
“Any time, Major.” She paused and added something. “You know, you're welcome in here too, you know. I'm sure the Air Executive needs an after-action report of his own, some days.”
“Sure.” He glanced at the door for a moment and turned back with a sudden thought. “Who listens to you, Captain? When you’ve gotta get something off your chest?”
Marion tried hard not to beam at him. See what I said about caring? “Don’t you worry about me,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I believe your friend Cleven went with the Doctor to the hospital wing. I think you can catch him there.” I’m sure he’s got something he’d like to say to a friend, rather than a fellow officer. That's part of your work, too.
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captain-mj · 1 year
Note
Can you do where Graves gets captured by enemies and Price (solo) goes and rescues him without anyone knowing until he comes back with Graves in his arm?
Sure!!
Price slowly packed each of his guns, working out the exact amount of ammo he'd need for each one. His thoughts were a mile a minute, but his hands moved smoothly. Not a single sign of the vibrating anxiety and adrenaline he was feeling right now. He was used to this though. This rolling feeling. Just never had to deal with it quite like this.
Missing in Action. His love was missing.
Price had to get him back. Immediately.
Graves was a Commander. He was extremely capable and that made him even more nervous. Who ever got him was either really good or a lucky bastard. Either way. Their luck wouldn't last.
Price got the rest of his gear on and simply left their hideout. Only Ghost noticed him who simply nodded and promised to keep watch of the Sergeants.
He felt this itch against his skin. Desperation to get him back. Put him between his legs and hold him to his chest. He should've done something differently. Price wasn't sure yet what he could've done differently, but Graves was working with them and was technically under his command. They were a rank apart, but Price was still higher and therefore he should've been watching for him. Should've kept everyone safe and he had fucked up.
Graves would kick his ass for thinking that way. He'd insist that he was fine and that it was his mistake. Or he'd simply tell Price to not be an idiot and that he was fine.
Price started where he last saw Graves. The branches and grass in the area were smashed down in a rather obvious trail. Probably assumed no one would go after him again. But Price was never one for leaving people behind.
His gun stayed firmly in his hands, sight ready to go for the first moment he saw someone. He saw one of those fuckers and sniped them. An easy shot. There a building nearby that looked like it had guards patrolling.
Price perched in a nice spot that gave him a good view of everything. He timed them all and waited until he got a handle of their routine.
Two options. Sneak in or go in blazing.
The angry part wanted to go in blazing but there was a risk there. A risk he didn't want to have. Gambling with Graves's life... unsettled scared him to hell and back him. So he decided to just roll with this. That's all he had to do. Get in. Get Graves. Go home.
Price searched through the building. Real slow and real quiet. He switched to his knife and hid the bodies as he went. One by one, he cleared out as many as he could. Once he had Graves, he wanted it to be a smooth get away. His safety was top priority.
They had Graves stuffed in a basement, hanging by his wrists. Luckily not bloody, just a little roughed up. Probably left to focus on other things.
Graves looked small. Bruised and a little dazed. His eyes were closed right now, but his breathing was a little too low and even for him to be asleep.
"Love."
Graves quickly looked up. "John?? What do you think You're doing??"
Price started to cut him free. "Rescuing you."
"You idiot. What if we both get caught?"
"Then we'll be caught together."
Graves shook his head but as soon as his feet touched the ground, he collapsed into Price. "I'm going to be slow."
Price quickly knelt down to look at him, noticing there was some blood on his socks.
There were some deep cuts on his achille's, luckily not severing from what he could see, but it was still deep. Probably so he couldn't run away if he got free.
Luckily Price benched quite a bit and Graves wasn't the heaviest of men. He picked him up and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"This is humiliating." Graves groaned, legs twitching as if in pain. The blood rushing to them must be painful, especially as more blood started to pour out of his ankles.
Price gave him a pistol so he could shoot if anyone came. He started to run as soon as he found the exit, racing towards the hide out as quickly as he could.
As they went, Graves started to make more and more pained noises. It was clear that he was becoming more lucid, but if that was good or bad remained to be seen. Price rubbed his back soothingly, ignoring when Graves started to shoot. He trusted him to watch his back.
They got inside the hideout and Ghost and Gaz took to shooting out of the exits when anyone was stupid enough to poke their heads out. Price laid him on the couch and then joined them in the fire fight, getting everyone down.
Soap, who had learned some more in depth field medical after Los Almas, took a quick look at Graves.
"What's the diagnosis, doctor?"
"We're going to have to amputate both legs." Soap said, laughing half way through. "Fuck, you should be fine. May limp for a while, but we'll check into that later." They managed to fight everyone back and Price could do what he wanted.
Which was fuss over Graves.
Price checked over his hands and over his chest. There were some deep bruising on his ribs which was probably what made being carried so painful. He held on to him tight and Graves grumbled but relaxed.
"It hurts." Graves sighed softly. He melted a little more into Price's grasp. "Might have to carry me to exfil. Only until the clearing though. I'll limp before I let anyone else see me carried like that."
"Alright, love."
Graves nodded and slowly tilted his head to let Price nuzzle into his neck. He felt warm. Almost feverish. He'd keep an eye on that too.
Price gently kissed his forehead.
"You shouldn't have come after me. Glad you did though."
"Couldn't let you die alone."
"How romantic."
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hairstevington · 1 year
Text
Stranger Therapy - part 3!
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Steve and Eddie visit Dr. Bauman a third time. While they figure out their feelings for each other, Dr. Bauman attempts to speed up the process. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Link to Ao3
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: Discussion of intimacy, PROLONGED EYE CONTACT, talking about sex in a very PG way, sexual tensionnnnn, modern day AU, aged up, Matchmaker Murray.
A/N: Things are heating up folks ;)
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Next time, you’re in the hot seat. No fake dreams, I’m talking real shit, okay?
Technically, Steve had never agreed to that, but he knew Eddie wasn’t going to let it go. Besides, Eddie had been extremely vulnerable in their last session, and Steve did feel a slight need to have things balanced. 
The thing was, things kind of were balanced, because the dream he’d brought up in therapy with Dr. Murray wasn’t entirely fake. 
Steve had never been that great of a liar. He had to come up with something to talk about, and he didn’t have enough time to make up a problem, so he actually had brought real shit into their counseling session. Sure, it devolved into something unrelated to Steve’s real recurring nightmare, but the core of it was intact. 
It’s just that - Steve wasn’t used to talking about his feelings. He locked all of it away ever since - ha, nice try! 
He knew if he was going to open up to anyone, a therapist would be a great place to start, but the problem was that it wasn’t just Dr. Bauman. It was Eddie too. And Steve liked Eddie - at least, he was pretty sure he did. The only person that really knew what went on in Steve’s head was Robin, for the most part. Even then, there were a lot of things Steve just…never talked about. 
Then again, if he didn’t share at the next session, he’d be going directly against what Eddie asked of him. Which really didn’t matter that much, because they didn’t know each other, and because Steve was paying for all this anyway, but for whatever reason Steve couldn’t let this go or go against Eddie’s wishes. Despite everything, he was genuinely excited to go to counseling again. 
Steve had been through a lot of wild shit, but this was most definitely the craziest thing he’d ever done. 
-
The last guy Eddie went on a date with turned out to be a serial killer. That’s not even a joke - the man was secretly a literal serial killer. Eddie felt something was off after they went out, so nothing ever came of it. About a month later, Eddie saw the guy on the news. 
So, that was weird, and a hell of a story. Couples counseling with Steve was extremely tame by comparison.
Yeah, the concept of going to therapy with a person he didn’t know that well was a little out there, but it certainly didn’t feel as weird as it should have. Steve must have felt the same, and that’s why they both continued to go back. 
Who knows? Maybe they were onto something.
Steve: So I have an idea if you’re up for it
Eddie: Pray tell
Steve: We drive together this time?
Eddie: Hmmmm
Steve: Or not, all good either way
Eddie: wow you got anxious about that really fast
Steve: Shut up lol
Eddie: Am I sensing a fear of rejection?
Steve: Dude come ON
Eddie: If only there was someone we could maybe discuss this with
Steve: Asdfghjkl are you done yet?
Eddie: your car or mine ;)
Eddie liked the way he flustered Steve just a little bit, but not enough to throw him off. He felt solid and secure, and he looked out for Eddie without being asked or seeming condescending about it. 
Even though the entire thing was unorthodox, it was also kind of perfect. The initial stages of dating were always a chore, anyway - this blew them way past that and into something entirely different. 
Eddie pulled up to Steve’s apartment and barely had to wait a minute before Steve came tumbling out. Steve tended to always look good, but the weather was getting warmer, and this time he was wearing short sleeves. 
Yeah. His arms were gonna be a problem. 
“Hey babe,” Steve teased as he hopped into the passenger’s seat. 
“Hey,” Eddie grinned. “You’re especially chipper today.”
“Yeah, well…” Steve ran his hands through his hair, putting his flexed bicep fully into Eddie’s view. He tried not to stare, but…come on. “What?”
“Nothing,” Eddie replied quickly, turning his attention back to the road. “So, how was your week?”
Oh my god, what the hell is this? 
Eddie rarely got thrown off by men. Typically, he was the one who did the teasing, and most people found him too intimidating to dish it back. That was the dynamic he was used to, but with Steve -
“My week was good. Yesterday, Robin and I went to this fancy dinner. It’s become a tradition every year on March 27th because the first time we went we lied and said it was our anniversary to get a free dessert. Now it’s been three or four years and we get all kinds of special treatment. They love us.”
“You mean to tell me I’m not the only one you’re pretending to date right now?” Eddie asked, dramatically pretending to be offended.
 “Well, yeah, Eddie,” Steve responded. “I’m a pretty hot commodity as a fake boyfriend. I mean, look at me.” 
Eddie saw Steve gesturing at himself in his peripheral vision, and very much didn’t need to actually look to know how hot the man was. 
“Damn, well it’s a good thing I like a little competition.” They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Eddie spoke again. “How long have you and Robin been friends?”
“God, since I was like, eighteen,” Steve answered. “She went to Hawkins High too, actually. Robin Buckley?”
“No shit!” Eddie exclaimed. Of course he remembered Robin - they were both band geeks. “Never would have thought you two would have been close.”
“Yeah, well a horrible minimum wage job will bond you to someone,” Steve said with a laugh. “If you ever see us together, you’d think we were dating, too. Most people think that.”
“But you’re not dating?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Eddie asked. Steve chuckled lightly.
“Seriously, man? Read between the lines and think about why you and I started talking.” Eddie smirked. 
“Got it. I just mean, like, bisexuality exists, so I didn’t want to assume anything.” 
“Right, well I am bisexual but Robin only has eyes for women,” Steve explained. “But every partner either of us has ever had always gets jealous or suspicious of us. It’s, like, the first big test of our relationships.” 
“Well, personally I’d love to see you two in action,” Eddie said. “If you ever wanted to do something, like other than therapy.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Steve replied. He didn’t say it in a dismissive way, but he also didn’t agree to it, which was weird. 
“Does she know about me?” Eddie asked, suddenly curious. 
“Yeah, she does,” Steve responded. The cracks in his charisma were starting to show. Interesting. “She doesn’t know we still, uh - she thinks we’re just going out. Like, normally.”
“But we’re not,” Eddie concluded. The only real date they’d had was the coffee, but they’d each paid for their own. It could easily be construed as friendship. For all Eddie knew, he was about to become another Robin. Which wasn’t a horrible thing to be, except now Steve was reaching over the dash to turn the radio up, and Eddie could smell his cologne, and he knew for sure that whatever this was, it sure as hell wasn’t platonic. At least, not for him. 
Very, very interesting indeed. 
-
When the boys sat down in Murray’s office for their second official session, he could practically see the pheromones between them. He could have cut the sexual tension with a swift karate chop. 
Naturally, he had to mess with them a little bit about it. 
“Okay, so today I wanted to bring things back to your initial complaint of not feeling connected and talk about intimacy,” Murray began. 
“Intimacy?” Eddie asked. “Like, sex?”
“Intimacy comes in many forms,” Murray reminded them. “Physically and emotionally. For example, some couples find it incredibly intimate to cook together, read to each other, or shower together - once again, in a non-sexual way. Even physical intimacy is on a spectrum. Some couples have sex, some don’t.”
Murray saw both of the boys stare at him as if he was speaking a different language. Evidently, they needed to talk about this whether they were actually dating or not.
“Okay,” Steve finally said. 
I wonder if they’ve banged it out, yet. 
“We can start with physical intimacy, if you’d prefer. How is your sex life going?” The boys immediately stiffened, their cheeks rosy red, which answered Murray’s question pretty clearly. Huh, not yet. What’s taking them so long? They recovered within moments, then answered the question confidently. 
“Good,” Steve answered.
“Top-notch,” Eddie added. They shared a look that Murray assumed the idiots thought he wouldn’t catch. He could read them so easily, the way that Steve was now flattered at the insinuation that Eddie thought he was good in bed, and the way Eddie was so eager to brag about their sex life. 
“So, what are some ways you two are emotionally intimate with each other?” That question seemed to stump the boys. Murray had found that a lot of people in their twenties struggled with being emotionally intimate. “Hmm. Would you guys be willing to try something a little different today?”
“Like, what exactly?” Steve wondered. 
“An experiment, I suppose. Nothing too scary.” 
“Fuck it, sure,” Eddie agreed. He turned to Steve. “You up for it?” Steve looked slightly less enthused by the idea, but nodded. 
“Okay,” Murray said, rubbing his hands together. “So, first I’m going to have you stare into each other's eyes for two minutes, and then I’ll ask you both some questions.” 
They hesitantly did as told, turning towards each other on the couch and making eye contact. Once again, their chemistry basically jumped off them - the way they were both nervous but tentatively trusting of one another. They’d already built more trust than a lot of couples Murray had worked with who had been together for years.  
Any day now, they’ll figure it out. I give it a week, tops.
-
Eddie had no problem with eye contact. In fact, he was known for using it as a way to intimidate people. He was comfortable with it, so when Murray suggested the eye contact thing, Eddie thought it would be no big deal. 
But then, Eddie and Steve turned on the couch to face each other. The stupid thing had a dip in the center that caused both of them to slip forward slightly and knock their knees together. There was a brief moment where Steve reached to stabilize himself on Eddie’s thigh. Eddie was touchy, and it didn’t usually faze him at all. 
This time, it did. 
As he looked at Steve, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering about what had changed. The first few times they’d met up, Eddie felt perfectly in control. He found Steve attractive and all, and he liked being around the guy, but this time something had shifted. He pondered it for the whole two minutes, and came to the conclusion that Eddie’s vulnerability in the last session and Steve’s ability to calm him down afterwards was what did it.
Dr. Bauman was absolutely onto something with the emotional intimacy thing. This shit was worth every penny. Well, Steve’s pennies, technically.  
-
God, this feels weird.
Steve didn’t care about eye contact, but it wasn’t usually, like, scheduled and moderated. He knew Murray was watching them, studying them, and at this point Steve didn’t know where he ended and the whole relationship charade with Eddie began. 
He wasn’t an idiot - he knew what Eddie had been hinting at in the car before with the whole, if you ever want to do anything other than therapy. It’s just that Steve kinda panicked at the thought of it, because it felt like things were moving too fast for them to actually date outside of whatever the hell this was. 
Then again, Eddie had very pretty eyes. Most of Steve’s two minutes were spent desperately trying not to look at his lips. 
He didn’t know what the hell was going on. 
“Time’s up,” Dr. Bauman said. Steve relaxed and immediately broke eye contact to look back at the counselor beside them. “Not so fast - keep looking at each other.”
“Doctor, did you lie to us?” Eddie teased. Steve noticed he had absolutely no issues holding his gaze, but that he somehow sensed Steve’s anxiety. Eddie reached out and laid his hand on Steve’s knee, but it was unclear whether or not that was intentional or just a product of being so close to each other on the couch that forced people together. 
“Now I’ll ask you both again. What are some ways you two are emotionally intimate?”
Here. This. I’d rather be naked. 
“We, uh - “ Steve thought back to their conversation at the coffee shop and smiled. “We play music together.”
“Very nice,” Dr. Bauman said approvingly. “Eddie, anything to add?”
“I know his coffee order,” Eddie replied. “Does that count?”
“Absolutely,” Dr. Bauman confirmed. “How did this exercise make you feel?”
“Scared.”
The word left Steve’s mouth before he could even think to stop it. Shit. He’s totally going to ask me about that. Steve turned his body back around to face the therapist, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze anymore. 
“Let’s dig a little deeper into that fear.” I knew it. Dammit. “Why might you feel so scared?”
Might as well just keep going. We’re already here.
“Because every time I open up to someone I end up - “ Steve sighed. “I lose them. One way or another I lose them, because I’m not good enough, or I'm too much, or there’s someone better, or because of other bullshit I sure as hell don’t want to get into right now. So I don’t really talk about my feelings anymore. But then, not letting people in makes people leave, too.”
“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” Dr. Bauman noted. “Very common. Why do you think this feeling started?”
Steve wondered if it was too late to run out of the office and never look back. He could call Robin, have her pick him up, and never think about this ever again -
“Hey,” Eddie said quietly from beside him. Steve turned to see Eddie's face drained of its usual vibrance, instead replaced with something more empathetic and soft. All of a sudden, it was only the two of them in the room. “You okay?”
Steve wasn’t ready to feel so seen. He shook his head without intentionally doing so.
“I - I can’t,” he whispered. Eddie nodded, then turned back to Dr. Bauman. 
“Doc, do you mind if we switch over to something I’ve been thinking about that I want to unpack with you? I have a lot of things actually. I made a list…” 
Steve watched as Eddie dug through his pockets and found a literal, paper, list. And normally, Steve would tease someone about that, but with Eddie it was both endearing and completely on brand. 
This thing they were doing - whatever it was - it worked.
The rest of the session was far less intense. As time passed, Steve felt the tightness in his chest fade little by little. 
The last two times they’d done this, their time together ended when the session did. This time, there was still a whole ride home. 
“Thanks for driving,” Steve said once they got inside the van. “I’ll do it next week.”
“So, you still wanna go back?” Eddie asked, surprised. 
“Well, yeah. I mean, isn’t that what you want?”
“I - I don’t want you to do it just for me, you know? Like, if you don’t want to do it then that’s okay,” Eddie said. Steve shrugged. 
“If we didn’t - if we stopped, I mean. Then what?” Eddie’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and his lack of response caused Steve to continue rambling. “And like, what if the lying combined with us telling the truth is throwing him off, and then we get all messed up in the head or something?”
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Eddie replied. 
“We should just tell him what’s going on.” Once again, Eddie was silent. “That we’re not really in a relationship, I mean.”
“I think you’re completely glossing over a very obvious solution,” Eddie finally said. “Like, we matched for a reason originally, right? I know the first appointment was supposed to be a one-off thing, but then we kept going. Are we still - like, did we scrap the actual dating part of this or is that still going on? Because I mean - like, even if you didn’t want to see Dr. Bauman anymore, I think I’d still wanna - I don’t know, keep seeing you.”
“I wanna keep seeing you too,” Steve agreed. Obviously, he wanted to keep seeing Eddie. “But I also want to keep seeing Dr. Bauman, which complicates things.” As much as he hated therapy, he needed it. That much was clear. 
“So, we can’t do both?” Eddie asked. 
“We are doing both,” Steve argued.
“You know what I mean.” They were almost to Steve’s, but their conversation felt very unfinished. “Look - I like you. Do you like me?” Yes. Steve couldn’t get himself to say it, for some reason. Yeah, I totally do. If only Eddie was a mind reader. “Got it. Okay, well here’s your stop. I’ll see you next week I guess.” 
Eddie put the car in park, and for a fleeting moment, Steve thought about leaving the conversation at that. But he wasn’t going to fall into his old patterns of - what did Dr. Bauman call it? A self-fulfilling prophecy? 
“I like you too,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to only focus on what goes on in the office, but I keep thinking about, uh, things between us. I mean, on the one hand, we get along great, but on the other, we’re in therapy together, and you already know more about my issues than most of my previous partners. So I just, I don’t know. It almost feels weird to consider us dating, because it messes with what we have going on in there, and it seems like we both need the counseling, so…”
“You’ve thought about things, huh?” Steve finally looked back at Eddie to see him stifling a grin.
“Were you even listening to the rest of what I said?”
“Well, I wanted to, but I was too busy thinking about things, too.” Steve felt some type of way at the confession of mutual attraction. 
“You - you were?” Eddie nodded aggressively, and Steve tried not to think about the things Eddie could possibly have been thinking about. “Okay, well if you’d been listening, you would know why us doing anything might be a bad idea. If it ends badly between us -”
“Good thing we have a couple’s counselor, right?”
God dammit. Eddie had a hell of an argument, and Steve was all out of excuses. He took a deep breath.
“Wanna come in?”
(next chapter)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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markerofthemidnight · 6 months
Text
Blinding Eclipse - A CCCC Oneshot (Prompt: Fluff)
Yesterday’s poll sure was a thing, so I wrote this in 24 hours!
I don’t have the attention span to go through all the trouble of making a new fic and beta-reading it myself for now, so I’ll just keep this and the second one on Tumblr for now, then post them to AO3 once all three are done!
(Honestly kinda worried about this? The last time I wrote a oneshot about two weirdos who don’t like each other having an awkward conversation that results in them understanding each other better, and ends in them hanging out and being dorks, it was a fic that I now rather infamously don’t like and will probably put me off writing gift fics for a year. Anyways, here it is:)
Blinding Eclipse
After a particularly nasty fight, Heart gives Mind the time to recover from his injuries by (against his will) sheltering him in his room. By the time the conversation ends, he might understand the emotional side a bit more.
***
A short hum echoed through the dark room followed by a dim blue light, as the android’s systems restarted following a rather… forceful shutdown of them.
He groaned, grabbing his temples. For him to pass out during a fight with Heart was rare: he must have been especially aggressive today for some reason. Where was he now?…
“Hiiiii.”
Oh, goddamit.
He looked up to see a certain avian asshole staring at him with… probably not the smuggest look he’d ever seen on his face, but it was definitely in the top five. It took him a bit to realise… he was lying in his room, in his bed… and had been using his chest as a pillow while he was asleep.
“…Get the hell off me.”
Heart smiled in response. “Technically, ‘Mister’ Mind, you’re the one on top of me. And you’re still not the boss of me. You’re only leaving when I let you leave.”
Mind narrowed his eyes. We’ll see about that, then. When he turned around, trying to wrestle his way out of his grip, he realised- oh fuck. Fuck, he had his wings wrapped around him, this asshole had this planned to a tee.
He shifted uncomfortably in his grip, something Heart clearly noticed as his wings tightened. “C’mon, I had to. I had a, like, 200-and-something-pound robot lying directly on top of me: they would’ve gotten crushed if I didn’t.”
He was absolutely not 200 pounds, but he wasn’t in the mood to correct him over something so trivial right now. Rather… “You carried me all the way here?”
“Yeah. I’m stronger than I look, you know? Turns out, getting into fistfights with a robot on a daily basis does wonders for your muscles,” he gloated.
“No, that’s not- I mean, why?” The android raised a non-existent eyebrow, glaring in confusion at his other half. “You were literally just trying to kill me. Why bother dragging me here when all it would likely do is start another fight?”
“Wanted to make sure Soul doesn’t find out when he comes back,” Heart simply replied. “I needed to make sure you recovered quick, and make you promise you wouldn’t tell.”
“And why would I ever do that?”
“If he finds out, we’ll probably both get punished. He blames us both for the fighting, you know. And besides… don’t you think we should at least try to get along? Just this once, for Soul?”
After he said that… he stopped, and thought for a second. That… sounded about right. Recently, he’d noticed Soul had stopped caring about who started the fights: the way he saw things, if they both participated in the fights, they both deserved punishment.
…Goddamit, Heart was actually making sense right now.
Mind didn’t feel like getting disemboweled- or… whatever the robot equivalent was- today. He was still aching from faux pain from the previous fight right now, as a matter of fact.
“…Fine. I’ll play along with this game. I promise not to tell Soul.” He gave in, sighing. “Well? Now let me go.”
The avian stopped at that. He winced, and hesitantly shook his head. “Not yet. Your legs still feel pretty banged up.”
Now, that came as no surprise to Mind. His legs still hurt like hell- though it wasn’t too big of a deal considering he, unlike most androids, had his own healing factor. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, like most things in the Headspace, but it definitely came in handy often.
Not to mention, it was common knowledge by now that Heart had empathy that bordered on superpowers: all he had to do was touch you, and he’d understand exactly what you were feeling in the moment. Not just your emotions, but physical sensations too, so it was no wonder he’d be able to tell so easily.
Still, he really didn’t feel like staying here for too long. So as uncomfortable as he was, he grumbled and laid his head down on his other half’s chest, to which he smiled and held him closer.
They were sitting like that for a short while. One wallowing in his own shame and embarrassment that he needed Heart’s help, the other simply enjoying the peace he could get with his pseudo-brother.
The Moon stroke his hair, sighing as he broke the silence. “And besides, this is your chance to ask questions. There’s still a lot you want to learn about me, right?”
The Sun didn’t reply, simply nodding. “Well, go ahead. Anything you want- that won’t piss me off- ask away.”
He thought for a second. Well, now he was mentioning it, there were a few things on his mind… “How are you so perceptive?”
“Because I have ears?”
“No- well, yes, but that’s not what I mean. I’ve seen how precise you can be at times. Mid-flight, you always seem to know exactly what you’re targeting and where it is, even if hearing alone shouldn’t be able to help you,” he elaborated.
Heart tilted his head, trying to consider his answer. “It’s kinda hard to describe- I think it’s just… intuition. I just know where my target is immediately, even in the heat of the moment.”
Well, that didn’t help at all. Leave it to the stupid asshole to give a stupid answer.
“That’s the way it feels while flying, anyway. Normally, it relies more on muscle memory and hearing.” He looked away from the Sun at that, with a melancholy smile on his face. “When you lose one of your main senses… you have to learn to adapt.”
He couldn’t help but be intrigued by that, for that smile was so obviously pained that even Mind, who admittedly wasn’t very perceptive when it came to feelings or “reading the room” as the others called it, could notice. “…Do you ever miss it?”
“Kinda?” Came his instant response, as if the blind man was expecting him to ask that. “Like, you know how much I hated it at first. I didn’t know how I could live without sight, but then I forced myself to adapt and… now I see it’s not so bad. Well, it is bad, but I got over it.”
And then, his smile disappeared. “Really, the worst part is the memories. Everything from before I got blinded seems so far away, and I’m trying to hold onto them, but… hell, I barely even remember what you two look like, let alone anything else.”
Heart sniffled, before sighing and internally suppressing the pain. His grip on Mind tightened as he pulled him into a pseudo-hug… and, intentionally or not, began smothering him in his chest’s violet fur. The faint scent of lavender permeated his nostrils as his muffled scream of protest went unnoticed by his fluffy kidnapper.
Seconds after, the grip loosened, at least giving him some room to breathe. He reflexively gasped for air despite not needing it, and sighed. “S-sorry,” his other half sheepishly replied, “Might’ve forgotten how hard I was hugging…”
“See, this is why I call him a creature,” he groaned to himself, “Not because he acts like one, but because his anatomy makes no sense.”
Heart hummed in confusion, tilting his head at that. Mind blinked for a second before elaborating, “Come on, you must know what I mean. All you need is decently-sized wings and you can fly despite a lack of streamlining and flight muscles. Your neck works like an owl’s. You used to hoard shiny objects, I’ve heard you make bird noises on multiple occasions, you- you smell like lavender, for fuck’s sake!”
The Moon continued to stare for a few seconds before simply shrugging, “What’s wrong with lavender?”
“It’s fucking unnatural, that’s what! Humans don’t smell like plants, and neither do animals- it’s just… how are you so satisfied with living as this, when you know you’re supposed to be human?!” He snapped.
Admittedly… Mind let a lot more of his insecurities show just now than he would have liked. Then again, Heart was perfectly aware of said insecurities, so he wasn’t too shaken up. He was staring at him with an empathetic gaze as he finished, and simply turned to the ceiling. “I dunno. Maybe I just find this more… exciting? The flight’s fun, and my wings look really pretty… or used to, but the point is, it’s a lot more interesting than just being a regular person, don’t you think?”
Well, what was wrong with being regular? It wasn’t his fault the boy lacked an attention span and thus thought “order and logic” meant “depressing and bleak”. He should hate being the way he is, just like how the Sun wants to be human again: because being a robot is confusing, frightening and just plain wrong whereas anyone with a working brain knows how being a human works.
Heart should hate being some kind of weird, furry bird-person-creature for the same reasons. After all, it’s not like there were any practical applications that came from some of your limbs catching on fire depending on your emotions.
As he was lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Heart had let go of his grip, still staring at the ceiling. His foot tapped against the side of his bed a few times before he clicked his tongue and turned to him. “You know what?”
Mind raised an eyebrow and sat up, his other half doing the same as he continued. “I think your problem is that you’re so uncomfortable with being a robot that you only see its downsides, and ignore all the good parts.”
He narrowed his eyes, stuttering. “G… good- there is no ‘good’ parts, dumbass. I barely resemble everything I used to be, and as time passes all it does is make me look more like a… a-“
“-Monster?” He interrupted. “That’s what you want to say, isn’t it? It’s how you see yourself. You try to hide it, but it’s still there. Well, think again: after all, I’d say only needing to sleep once a week is a pretty big perk for someone as workaholic as you.”
He stopped at that. He opened his mouth to retort, but felt it slowly closing soon after. That wasn’t exactly… incorrect… he did appreciate that, at least.
“See?” Heart smiled, tilting his head. “I know that silence! You do like that, don’t you? And then there’s your healing facto…” he trailed off before, suddenly, leaping off the bed. “Oh crap, right, your legs! A-are you okay? Can you walk now?”
He, too, had almost forgotten his legs were damaged before this moment. Regardless, he took a few seconds getting off the bed, slightly shaking as he stood up. “…Not perfectly, but I’ll manage just fine. Thank you, Heart.”
Consumed by his thoughts, he likely didn’t even notice that he was thanking him, and if he did, he had no idea exactly what for. Either way, as he took his first slow steps towards the door, the avian once again wrapped his arm around him, forcing him to lean on his shoulder. “Not so fast. I’m not taking any chances with how badly they were banged up before.”
With that, he began borderline carrying the android back to his room. He wanted to complain about this, but… he didn’t.
“We should do this more often, you know,” he smiled. “This is the first time we’ve been able to have a normal conversation in months.”
“Yes. This was… quite satisfactory,” he hesitantly replied. Crap, how should he have worded that?
“Can we hang out again later too? I know walking in to see us getting along for once would really startle Soul!~” the emotional side playfully quipped. “What was that game you were playing earlier? The one you decided to restart cause you… weren’t satisfied with your last run, or something?”
“Lobotomy Corpora-… wait, how do you know about that?!”
“These walls aren’t exactly soundproof, y’know,” he teased. “No, seriously, your little mutterings while playing that’re probably the most emotion I’ve ever heard from you! It sounds like fun!”
——
Another day, another argument.
That was what Soul was expecting to see, anyways, as he materialised back into the Headspace for tonight, only to be met with silence… mostly.
He could hear voices. Distant and quiet, but they were there. As he followed the trail, he realised they were coming from Mind’s room. Huh. Weird of Heart to willingly enter Mind’s room, and they were being so passive as well… what was going on there?
He opened the door expecting to see… anything, really, only to do a double take as he saw what was probably the least likely scenario he could imagine.
Heart, sitting down on one of his little bean bags, was listening intently to an oddly calm Mind as he sat at his computer, taking the time to carefully and even somewhat happily explain the details of some game he was playing to him.
What. The fuck. Was he watching.
Was… was this real? He’s not just, like, hallucinating Heart and Mind getting along, right?! This was actually happening? Being Whole again was a possibility even without his help?!
Regardless, as he opened the door, Heart heard the creaking and turned to the opposite corner of the room, knowing who it must be.
“…so even if Penitence’s defences seem better at first glance, since this is one class higher it’s actually the superior-“ Mind was cut off by his other half tapping his shoulder and pointing to Soul. He looked at him for a few seconds before quipping, “How is it that you look even crazier now than you do when you’re stabbing us?”
…The ruler slowly closed the door, not knowing how else to react. What was that. How did that happen. How did they will themselves into getting along so easily, he could hear Heart giggling like a madman from behind the door like he thought this earth-shattering revelation was funny, oh my god he needed some time to think.
***
Soul would later go on to sit in the kitchen slowly drinking a Monster for ten minutes, all with this disbelieving smile on his face, before going to “supervise” them (really he just wants in on the fun).
Well, aforementioned anxiety aside, I liked writing this! Establishing that Heart makes bird noises as well as his lavender chest floomf, and projecting my Lobotomy Corp liker onto Mind was really fun!
Expect Mind’s instalment, its prompt being Self-Discovery, to come out soon. Or maybe not, after all DoaI Vol. 1 comes out tomorrow so I may be a bit busy.
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fazfacts · 8 months
Text
HOT DAGA SENTENCE STARTERS
it's actually criminal that nobody has done this before. feel free to change as needed!
❝ If you don't like it, you can kiss my buns. ❞
❝ Oh, he looks all pissed off 'cause his hat's still gone. ❞
❝ Good, I'm glad he's pissed. ❞
❝ I hope he crashes into that wall. ❞
❝ Oh shit, he crashed! ❞
❝ Wow! They look like a happy couple. ❞
❝ She's not happy with his driving, I'll tell you that. ❞
❝ Oh, he's on fire, he looks like he's hurting. ❞
❝ What a horrible occurrence that just happened! ❞
❝ What the fuck? ❞
❝ He's gonna come back like Michael Myers. ❞
❝ I can't really tell what it is, but it went by real quick. ❞
❝ Why did you run from me? ❞
❝ I...I didn't know how to tell you, but...we have a son now. ❞
❝ Wait -- I'm so confused... ❞
❝ Hello, [name]. I'm your father, [name]. ❞
❝ Why did you try to shoot me and leave me for dead? ❞
❝ That wasn't me. ❞
❝ It's me, [name], your evil twin sister. ❞
❝ I won't have you two together. You know I love [name]. ❞
❝ Now it's time to die. Mount your crab. ❞
❝ [Name], step aside! ❞
❝ Do you remember where we were? ❞
❝ Who are you? ❞
❝ Nice to meet you. I love you. ❞
❝ Promise you'll never shoot me, [name]. ❞
❝ Let's cover ourselves in mustard and get craaazy! ❞
❝ I hope you never get eaten on the Fourth of July like my parents. ❞
❝ Your words are making me happy, so I am smiling. ❞
❝ Always love each other, no matter where your paths take you. ❞
❝ We are siblings, but also best friends. ❞
❝ Why would we ever fight? ❞
❝ I have seen it in my special dreams. ❞
❝ Let's go eat the rest of Amelia Earheart for dinner. ❞
❝ My funding...my precious funding... ❞
❝ It's all over now. I suppose I'll let myself rot. ❞
❝ I'm in urgent need of your services. ❞
❝ What a shame...I was so close. ❞
❝ That's a good hashtag. ❞
❝ Like my dear old dad used to say, there's no free condiments in life. ❞
❝ Most condiments are free, actually. ❞
❝ How dare you! ❞
❝ Please, respect my father. May he rest in peace. ❞
❝ This talk of your father seems very shoehorned into this conversation. ❞
❝ I'm your son! From the future! ❞
❝ Hoooly shiiit. ❞
❝ Why did you do it, [name]? Why'd you do any of this? ❞
❝ Because, [name], I'm straight-up evil. ❞
❝ That's bad for the fabric of reality and space-time, I think. ❞
❝ Okay, it's technically not murder or anything. ❞
❝ This is what you get. This is the law of the wild. ❞
❝ I can't bear to watch this inevitable carnage. ❞
❝ I just want a picture of this moment. ❞
❝ I need your help to avenge my death. ❞
❝ We're a family again! A real family! ❞
❝ That's a terrible name. ❞
❝ I'm pretty sure this is a trap... ❞
❝ A crow ate one of my eyes at the bank last Labor Day, by the way. That's why I have an eyepatch now. ❞
❝ Did it ever occur to you, [name], that I loved you and your mustache? Well, I don't anymore, and I see you've shaved your mustache, you idiot. ❞
❝ The day we broke up was the best day of my life. ❞
❝ I saw him do a magic trick once where he sat on his own lap. ❞
❝ I'm suddenly afraid my wife will leave me for him, but he's a nice guy, so that's okay. ❞
❝ Wait a minute, you weren't invited! ❞
❝ It's me, [name], and I'd like to welcome you to Hell. Time to die! ❞
❝ I am displeased! But that does sound narratively rich. ❞
❝ Will you press pause on your shit for five minutes? ❞
❝ I now have to imagine a thing I don't want to imagine, under any circumstance? ❞
❝ Are you proud of yourself? ❞
❝ But I cannot attempt to process that at the moment, for the fear of the emotional toll it would take on me. ❞
❝ How'd we survive? ❞
❝ Ooh, what a plot! ❞
❝ We could go back in time to stop it all. ❞
❝ No need to explain that, we'll remember it always. ❞
❝ Thank you for your service. ❞
❝ Enough talky-time, more spacey-time, idiots. ❞
❝ We threw them into a volcano. They're gone. ❞
❝ I don't negotiate with assholes. ❞
❝ I can't believe it -- I'm alive! ❞
❝ Oh, no, no, hey, c'mon. Nothin' to worry about here. ❞
❝ That doesn't make any sense. ❞
❝ My parents were very juicy and I am, too. ❞
❝ You...don't seem trustworthy. ❞
❝ Oh, I'm plenty trustworthy. ❞
❝ So what's your deal again? ❞
❝ Hm. Makes sense if you actually track the story, probably. ❞
❝ I wonder if Earth's tasty. ❞
❝ I'm not one for decision-making. ❞
❝ I'm both the mayor and the sheriff. ❞
❝ Don't worry, you will soon go to jail. ❞
❝ I want to get perfectly sane, haha. ❞
❝ You're getting more and more sane by the day! ❞
❝ Everyone's dying and the world is basically over. ❞
❝ Sometimes your life don't go exactly as you planned. ❞
❝ The fact that I doubted myself for even a split second is some military-grade bullshit. ❞
❝ It's me, [name], and I'm pissed. ❞
❝ I can't die, I'm beloved! ❞
❝ Question: what the hell's going on? ❞
❝ If you do anything dumb, I will kill you with my hat. ❞
❝ You didn't need to do that, by the way. That's cruel. You understand that? ❞
❝ I didn't ask to exist. In fact, I was very content not being. ❞
❝ Look, I'm sorry about doing you dirty. ❞
❝ We've got some things to discuss, you and me. ❞
❝ Ohhh, okay. We're both dead, then. This is for sure a place where we're both dead. ❞
❝ My last memory was me putting a goldfish in my mouth to make my children laugh. Then I choked to death. ❞
❝ Play shitty games, win shitty prizes, [name]. ❞
❝ I was so consumed with hate and anger that I lost sight of who I was. ❞
❝ Are you just, like, checked out of this conversation now? ❞
❝ I'm just a guy in a void. ❞
❝ I got murked and it chilled me out. ❞
❝ That's my catchphrase, now that I'm fun. ❞
❝ Tell you what, I hate this planet. ❞
❝ There's a small part of my funky, no-good heart that's like, "hell yeah." ❞
❝ Hey, you want some money? It's got my face on it. ❞
❝ The one thing I've always said is, "you can definitely trust someone who repeatedly insists that you can trust them," you idiot. ❞
❝ I'm the queen of deception and straight-up dirty tricks. ❞
❝ Game recognize game, however inferior. ❞
❝ I've just had a tremendously confusing dream. ❞
❝ I'm not in the habit of taking drinks from strangers. ❞
❝ But I'm beloved... ❞
❝ I. Don't. Caaare. ❞
❝ It's almost Friday, the day for kissing! ❞
❝ If you value your life, you might consider staying out of mine. ❞
❝ Is there any way we can put this all behind us? ❞
❝ Are you fucking kidding me? You shouldn't have asked that question. ❞
❝ Oh, thank God. I was about to flip my shit. ❞
❝ Full disclosure, no offense: you seem nuts. ❞
❝ My mind is so clever, some describe me as a God. ❞
❝ My name is [name], and I'm here to say: you'll soon straight-up die today. ❞
❝ I'm perfectly sane, so now it's time to play my funny little game. ❞
❝ Where'd you go to college? Detective school? ❞
❝ I'm gonna save your life for my own benefit. ❞
❝ I have no beef with you. You're clearly dealing with some stuff. ❞
❝ Don't worry, I will murder you. ❞
❝ I feel like you're not being receptive to literally any of my shit. ❞
❝ I was hypnotized for many, many years and frankly, I'm not too happy about it. ❞
❝ Well, you can't blame me for that. I'm dead. ❞
❝ I think you could maybe choose not to be complicit in the destruction of the universe. ❞
❝ Jesus Christ, take a breath. ❞
❝ If you don't stop this instant, I'm gonna hug you. ❞
❝ I feel like a happy sunshine person who always wins. ❞
❝ I feel as critically-acclaimed as I always do! ❞
❝ You should know by now, nothing exciting ever happens around here. ❞
❝ Hey, you ever think about what happens after we die? ❞
❝ Sorry for my dad being a dick all the time...and for following his orders without question. ❞
❝ I hate you and I'm glad you look all fucked-up! ❞
❝ Namaste or whatever. ❞
❝ I just wanna chill 'til I'm dead. ❞
❝ Whoa, okay. I think I'm gonna die. ❞
❝ Those were the bad guys! Why were you, like, chilling with them? ❞
❝ Man, you really pooped the bed on this one. ❞
❝ Okay, your tone is appropriate and I apologize. ❞
❝ I will miss you, [name], the biggest baller of them all. ❞
❝ I'd actually be double-dead, which is the worst kind of dead. ❞
❝ What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now. ❞
❝ Sometimes your death don't go exactly how you planned. ❞
❝ I tried the best I can, but I ain't got the stuff. ❞
❝ Frankly, life's been pretty dope. ❞
❝ I know life's been crazy, but believe me, you'll be fine without me here. ❞
❝ There's really no need to cry. ❞
❝ I know things seem kind of shitty and that the odds aren't looking pretty, but what's the point of quitting now? ❞
❝ I won't be here to see it, but you bet your ass that I believe that you'll still save the day somehow. ❞
❝ If I had a fuckin' bucket, then I got a hunch I'd kick it. ❞
❝ Sorry for the cursing, but I'm feeling worse and worse. ❞
❝ I don't wanna die, but I'm probably gonna die. ❞
❝ I'm dying now, just so we're clear. ❞
❝ Holy shit, this is it, I'm gonna die. ❞
❝ I'll see you later, pals, I'm outta here. ❞
27 notes · View notes
reigningqueenofwords · 3 months
Text
The Avenger's Neice
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Word count: 914
Read on AO3
Part 1 of The Unknown Stark
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Popping your gum, you had your backpack over your shoulder, and your hands in your hoodie pockets. It was a rainy day in New York City, but that was nothing new. Your hood was up, shielding your dark hair from the cold water. You loved when it rained, you did not love walking in it. You saw taxis all over, but it would be quicker, and cheaper to take the subway and walk. Just because you technically had the money, didn’t mean you weren’t going to be smart about it.
At last, you found yourself at your destination- Stark Tower. While you had complete access to it, you hardly ever visited. Tony always came to see you, or would facetime. Man was so busy you were amazed he found time to breath. Letting out a sigh, you walked in the front doors. “Heya, JARVIS!” You greeted him happily.
“Ah, Miss Stark, how are you?” You rolled your eyes at the greeting. “I should inform you that your father is out at the moment.”
That was no surprise. “First, stop calling me Miss Stark. Been telling you that since day one. Secondly, that really doesn’t come as news anymore. I’ll just hang out. Are the others here?” You paused, waiting to hear if you should just head to Tony’s level, or what.
“It would seem as if they are currently in the dining room, Miss Y/N.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks.” That was a step up from ‘Miss Stark’ at least. What 15 year old wanted to be referred to like that? Not you.
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As you’d been told, you walked into the kitchen and saw the Avengers. Or, to you, Uncle Bruce, Uncle Thor, Uncle Clint, Aunt Nat, and Uncle Steve. Outside of this room, the only people that knew you were Tony’s daughter were Tony, your mother, and Nick Fury. Who apparently didn’t take kindly to you calling him ‘grandpa’, and were then forced to refer to him as Mr. Fury. 
Thor was the first one to spot you, a grin spreading over his face. “Little one!” He chuckled, getting up and moving towards you. The others turned just as he picked you up in a hug. “It’s been too long!”
“Can’t. Breath.” You slapped his arm, making him chuckle and put you down. “It’s good to see you, too, Uncle Thor.” Letting out a small sigh, you smiled at the others. “Hey, guys.”
Dropping your bag off to the side, you moved to join them at the table while taking your hoodie off, taking half of Clint’s roast beef sandwich. You put your hoodie over the back of your chair while taking a bite. “Hey, you little shit.” He laughed when you smiled at him with a mouth full of food, making you look like a chipmunk.
Once you’d swallowed, you chuckled. “I had to walk the very long streets of New York City, and travel such a long way on the subway to get here. I’m famished.” You teased him, taking another bite.
“Why didn’t you just call? We could have sent a car.” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because I’m a normal 15 year old girl and not some spoiled brat?” You shrugged, reaching over and stealing the last half of Bruce’s soda. “Thanks, Uncle Bruce.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re welcome.” Most of the time, they saw you for holidays and birthdays- unless they were on a mission. In which case, it was when they got back. “Anyways, what gives us the honor of the tiny Stark’s presence?” He teased you right back.
You’d downed the soda and gave Clint back part of his sandwich, making him roll his eyes. “You haven’t heard?” You looked around at their faces, each of them shaking their heads. “Mom was sent to prison…”
“Wait, what?” Steve wasn’t sure he heard that right. “What for? I mean, we’ve met your mom…” They all thought she was nice.
“Uh, murder?” You muttered. Everyone was stunned into silence. “I don’t know the details. I wasn’t allowed into court. All I know is that by the time she gets out, I’ll be old. Like…Steve old.” You tried to make a joke of it, but it didn’t go over too well.
Nat furrowed her brows. “Why didn’t she call Tony? He could have gotten her the best lawyers in the city.”
Sighing, you shrugged. “Since I was a kid, mom’s always talked about not relying on Dad.” You explained. “She did her best not to have to go running to him. For one, she always thought that him visiting and paying for stuff was enough, and secondly…you know that he doesn’t want people to know about me. The second he hires a lawyer for her, someway, somehow, that would be front page news. Whether or not it’s intentional.” You’d been raised to do your hardest to do things on your own.
“Nothing’s been on the news, either.” Bruce spoke up. “Not even a little mention at the bottom.”
“There wasn’t some big trial. She did the whole without a jury thing.” Why, you didn’t understand. “Look, you’d have to go see her for answers. I don’t have them. I’d been staying with a friend so I could keep going to school, but with it now being a long term thing…”
Clint nodded. “You’re moving here. Does Tony know? He hasn’t said anything.”
Hearing the elevator, you all turned to see Tony and Pepper. “Y/N/N?” He smiled. 
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k-evans-reads · 2 years
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In Living Color
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Chapter 10 - Part Two
Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?
Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton
Word Count: 6,819
By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour
We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Smut.
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Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist
July 2021
There was a dull ache in Nat’s body as she slowly awoke, stretching out her limbs to take away that pain from how she’d been curled up in bed. Once she was comfortable, her eyelids slowly fluttered open and she saw the surroundings of the white bedroom, immediately reminding her where she was and at that one thought, a smile appeared on her lips. 
It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up in his bed, seeing that stunning view of the California hills out his window, but it was the first time that she was completely comfortable being here and her smile only grew when she turned to look at the sleeping figure next to her. Chris’ long eyelashes were resting against his cheek while his mouth had fallen open and he was snoring softly. One arm was splayed out next to him while the other rested on his bare tattoo covered chest. Nat wanted nothing more than to just touch him, to confirm to herself that this was real and he finally was back with her, and when he stirred in his sleep, she got the chance to do just that. 
Knowing that he was drifting in and out of sleep allowed her to scoot her body right up next to him, wrapping her arms around his thick middle while he just lazily hummed, not even opening his eyes while he immediately let his arms come to hold her and his face nuzzled against her messy curls. Nat just laid there, breathing in his scent as she told herself just how real this was and that the months of being apart were finally over. 
It was almost funny, if she thought about it long enough. Finding it comical that she was technically in the home of one of the biggest movie stars in the country with his arms wrapped around her. But somehow to Nat, she couldn’t seem to find it in herself that it was true because to her, he was just Chris… that wonderful heart of gold man who laughed over chips and salsa with her. He had become so much more to her that she could have even imagined months ago. He had basically become her best friend and that made moments like this so much better than she could have ever dreamed. 
His voice was raspy with sleep and low when he finally murmured, “Hi Nattie.” His face was still buried in her hair, but his fingers were moving against her sides, dancing over the bare skin there. 
She smiled, eyes following him when he moved his face out of her hair. His blue eyes were hazy in the early light as he yawned, then smiled at her while she whispered, “Morning baby.” 
“I sure do like waking up and seeing you right here by me,” he murmured, a dopey smile on his face that she knew he’d deny anytime she brought it up. 
“Good, because I’m planning on staying here,” she told him.  
She felt Chris’ hand move underneath her chin, gently tilting it up so he could lean down and kiss her softly. Nat loved the slow way he was kissing her, showing that he wasn’t in a hurry, both of them finally having all the time in the world and soaking up every bit of it. Every bit of her body felt good, curled up against him in that soft white bed while his lips caressed hers in the most perfect way. 
“I didn’t get a chance,” Chris stopped, leaning his lips down to kiss at her bare shoulder before finishing, “to see your tattoos last night.” 
She laughed, her hand moving to the back of his head. She found herself wishing for it to be longer again and looked forward to when it’d grow in again, no longer resembling the aftermath of the Lloyd styling. “Well considering I pretty much haven’t had clothes on since I got to your house last night, I’d say you had plenty of chances,” she smirked. 
“I was kind of focused on something else.” 
“Oh really? What might that have been?” 
“Something I plan on doing a lot more this weekend,” he whispered, nipping at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. “But I’m serious Nattie, I want you to show me.” 
“I have this one on my shoulder,” she began, turning slightly to show him the tattoo on her back. “It says ‘Sisters’ in Hungarian. Heather, Alex and I all have it.” 
Chris nodded before his hand moved to her ribs, curling around the side of her body near her arm. “What about this one?” 
“Oh god, that one is so stupid. I was twenty and wanted a tattoo and apparently all I could think of getting was an airplane because I wanted to travel the world,” she huffed, shaking her head at how ridiculous it was. 
“It looks like a painful spot to get it,” Chris whispered, his fingers tracing the delicate outline of the plane.
“I don’t know, I was drunk,” she shrugged. 
His lips twitched as he huffed out a laugh before he yawned, then offered, “If you want to get it removed, I have a good person I go to.” 
“Honestly it doesn’t show much so it doesn’t really bother me,” she explained, pushing her unruly hair back behind her shoulders. “I had an appointment to get one on my hip but then COVID happened so that one hasn’t happened yet.” 
Chris nodded, nothing but complete understanding in his eyes as he spoke, “I love it. I just love art on our bodies, I think it’s such a beautiful thing.” 
Nat smiled as she listened to him, before she bit her lip and told him, “I want to finally have a good look at all of yours.” 
Chris was eager to share, pulling the blanket down off of his torso to show Nat each and every black line that littered his body, explaining the significance of each one. But somehow through it, she found herself listening less to the explanations, and seeing more the passion and joy that came through as he spoke. It was one of the many things she was crazy about with him, just loving how sensitive and passionate he was about specific things in his life, and it made her blush to think that she might become one of those things. 
At the lull in the conversation, Chris glanced over his shoulder at where Dodger was snoring happily on the couch against the far wall. “Are you hungry? I’d love to take you out for breakfast,” he finally asked her. 
Nat shrugged, knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea, especially in the aftermath of last month’s blow up. “We could just make some breakfast here and stay in,” she suggested. 
He frowned, voice quiet as he reminded her, “I don’t have any groceries here.” 
“Yeah you do,” she smiled sheepishly and shrugged at his curious look. “I went shopping the other day and got you some things. I figured you’d be tired coming back here and wouldn’t feel like getting groceries.” 
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” 
“Oh I don’t joke about ice cream, Chris. You should know this by now,” she told him, her voice dry as she smirked. 
Nat loved watching the way his eyes scrunched up as he barked out that infectious laugh, but that laugh was replaced with a soft smile and a tender look in his eyes once they had pulled on some comfortable clothes and made it to the kitchen and he finally got to see just how much she’d filled his kitchen with so many of the things she knew that he loved. Without saying a word, he just walked over to her, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest, kissing her temple as he mumbled, “Thank you, Nattie.” 
She wanted to stay in this bubble for the rest of her life, just here with him, no responsibilities or outside voices echoing in their minds. It was almost comical how easily they fell into step with each other, making and eating breakfast side by side until Dodger wandered out of the bedroom and Chris grabbed his leash to go on a quick walk. She cleaned up and headed into the laundry room, finding his bags from Scott, and started a load of his laundry. 
They spent the rest of the morning enjoying each other but doing their own things, Nat drawing on the couch while watching The Office while Chris answered some emails and then ended up on the piano, until he wandered back over and laid down next to her with a deep yawn. 
She looked over at him, smiling as she saw his arm slung over her hips from where he laid between the back cushion of the overstuffed couch and herself. “I’m sure you’re probably so tired,” she murmured, moving a hand to run through his dark hair as his eyes slipped shut for a moment. 
His eyes opened as he frowned at himself and sighed, “I thought I shook most of my jetlag the past few days in Boston but I guess not.” 
“Why don’t you take a nap?” She asked him quietly. 
He nodded, yawning as he shrugged, “I might,” and despite the lack of commitment in his phrasing, she knew he’d be asleep within seconds. 
And she was right, smirking to herself when she heard – and felt – his breathing even out as he slipped to sleep next to her. She lost track of time, moving from piece to piece as she drew on her iPad, half-watched the marathon of The Office, and listened to his soft snores, chuckling to herself as Dodger joined in from his spot on his own bed. 
Nat felt his arm twitch against her, and with a quick glance at the time, she realized it’d been almost two hours since he fell asleep next to her. His breaths were still deeper than normal and his eyes were still shut, but his arm tightened around her. 
“I take it someone’s awake,” she whispered, smiling when his eyes opened and found her immediately, his lips turning into a half-grin before he moved a hand to rub his eyes. “Did you have a good nap?” 
“Mhmm,” he yawned, before he leaned up and pressed his lips to her cheek before moving down to press them to her neck.
“Chris! Don’t mess up my drawing!” 
He smirked against her chin, his voice low as he informed her, “I’m not messing it up, I’m just kissing you. You’re the one drawing.” 
“Well, you’re making me mess up,” she sighed, but smiled to herself as he kept up with the kisses, then met his eyes as he raised a single brow at her. “Why don’t you go back to sleep instead of wreaking havoc on my art?” 
“It’s kind of hard to think about sleep when you’re lying here looking so fuckin’ good in my shirt,” he shrugged, arm tightening around her hip minutely. 
“Oh is that so?” 
“Yes that’s so.” 
He proved his point by bringing his lips to kiss her sweetly while his hand rested on her bare thigh, following her skin up and slipping underneath the white tee shirt that hung loosely on her frame. Nat felt his big palm rest on her waist, holding her in place while he started kissing her deeper. 
He gently plucked the iPad from her hands, placing it on the side table behind the arm of the couch before he shifted them so he was laying farther up the couch on his side, hovering over her while Nat was on her back below him. 
As if Chris wasn’t attracted to her enough, seeing that white tee shirt of his had almost a primal feeling running through him. He loved seeing that piece of fabric that signified that she was his and he was the only one seeing her wearing it with her pink rosy nipples pressing against the thin fabric as she called out his name. Although Nat didn’t know any of those thoughts were running through his brain at the moment, she could tell by the way his hands were rubbing across her, the soft tee shirt being the only thing separating his hands from her skin, that he liked that shirt on her and she knew it wouldn’t be the only time she was in it. 
Nat leaned her head back, opening up her neck for his lips to attach to as his hand slipped underneath that shirt and she finally felt his touch rubbing along her skin. She couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his hands rubbing along her skin, toying with her nipples and absolutely driving her wild. That mixed with the little bites and sucks he was littering along her neck had her eyelids fluttering closed as she sighed softly. 
But Chris seemed to want more than that, his hand starting to travel south and grabbed the waistband of her panties and worked on peeling them down her long legs. She pulled her knees up, letting him get them off and tossed onto the floor without pulling his lips away from her skin. Nat knew what he was doing and laid down one leg on the comfortable couch while the other lazily rested against his body, helping to open herself up to him. 
She could feel herself clenching from just the feeling of his big hand cupping her for a long moment, just feeling her in his hand while he moved his lips to kiss along her jaw. Nat was already so turned on for him, but when his index finger pushed between her folds and traced along the length of her wet core, she was shivering in his arms as she whimpered his name. 
“I want to learn all the things you like, Nattie,” he told her, his low voice sending a shiver down her spine.  “I want to know every spot that drives you wild.” 
Nat’s chest was already heaving as his finger just kept teasing her, rubbing gently along her core and learning the feel of her. She instinctively grabbed onto his forearm, just needing something to hold and felt his firm muscles move as he kept teasing her. All of it just felt so good from his warm body pressed against her side, his low voice crooning in her ear and having his loving touch on every inch of her body. 
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, baby,” he murmured, almost chuckling at the end as she gasped. 
But there was a good reason she was gasping as he pushed a finger inside of her before adding a second only a few moments later before he slowly stroked her, causing Nat to let out a strangled, “Oh fuck, Chris.” 
“You like that? Is that a good spot, Nattie?” 
“Y-Yes, right there,” she encouraged, head falling back against the couch as her eyes slipped shut. “Go faster.” 
He huffed out a laugh, his head dipping to press nipping kisses to her neck before murmuring, “Anything my girl wants.” 
She could feel her whole body tightening, getting pent up from just how good this felt. It wasn’t as if it was the first time she had been thinking of Chris with her fingers inside herself, even having his voice talking her through it a few times, but this was so much better. She actually got him and nothing was better than that. 
“Remember when you touched yourself for me?” He suddenly spoke, reminding her of that phone call in June. “I remember hearing you moan and wishing I got to see your face but now I get to.” 
But Nat couldn’t respond to that, she was too busy focusing on the pleasure running through her, feeling every sense in her body heightened. It wasn’t just what his fingers were doing that was driving her wild though. It was him and all he meant to her. He had become her best friend over the past few months, learning everything about her and seeming to just… enjoy her. It was something brand new to her, never having experienced anything even close to that before with a partner and it had made her feel wanted, accepted and just plain liked. 
She felt as if everytime he picked up that phone, he had wanted to talk to her. He valued her thoughts and opinions when he’d asked her questions and was genuinely interested in what was going on in her life, loving every little story she told about her nieces or when she gushed about the new gouache paint color she’d gotten that was just perfect. He cared about her in every sense of the word and she knew it, she felt it from him. But this was that last piece, getting to physically be together that was driving her over the edge and making her feel like she was on cloud nine. 
“I missed you so damn much, Nattie. I thought of you so many nights when I was alone,” he murmured just before he nipped at her neck and moved to press his lips to hers for a momentary, deep kiss, then pulled back. “So fuckin’ happy I’m back here with you.” 
And as if she wasn’t already wanting every single thing he was giving her, that only made her even more weak at the knees. Nat wanted to tell him she felt the same, but no words came out of her mouth, only a loud cry of pleasure as he kept his fingers rubbing oh so perfectly against her. 
“Chris, please,” she gasped, nails digging into his forearm helplessly.
“Tell me what you want,” he encouraged, voice softer than it had been. 
And although she couldn’t muster the strength to tell him, she grabbed his hand and moved it up where she wanted it, giving Chris the hint while his soaked finger started rubbing circles along that sensitive button. Instantly Nat’s head tipped back farther into the couch pillow, her back arching as she ached for more friction, telling him, “A little harder.” 
Chris did exactly as she said, pushing just a little bit harder as he rubbed those circles that had Nat moaning out obscenely. He loved getting to learn her, wanting to be able to know what she liked as if it was the back of his hand but it didn’t take a lot of brain power to figure out that this must have been pretty high on the list for her judging by the way she kept spreading her legs and crying out his name over and over again. He kept up his movements, not changing one thing as he kept his face away from hers, dying to kiss her but needing to be able to see her face when she hit that peak which happened sooner than he thought as her eyes scrunched up and her whole body tightened. 
She could hardly process how hard she came, seeing stars from behind her eyelids as the only thing she focused on was the perfect way he was touching her, working her through her peak as her body slowly unwound and relaxed onto the couch. Nat smiled when she felt his lips return to her skin, kissing her neck before moving up to her swollen lips. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, needing to hold him close as they kissed softly until he finally pulled away enough to look at her and ask, “Feeling good?” 
“Yeah but now I’m going to be the one who needs a nap,” she laughed, opening her eyes again finally. 
He slowly moved to lay on his side next to her, putting her between him and the back of the couch. “Do you mind if I go shower?” He finally asked her quietly, just as her eyelids grew heavy. “I haven’t taken one since landing yesterday and I desperately need one.” 
She smirked, opening her eyes and turning to look at him. “After what you just did to me I think I need one first,” she murmured, slipping her hand over to the back of his shoulder. 
Chris pursed his lips, leaning into her touch before he shrugged and suggested, “Or we could just take one together.” 
Nat’s head moved, resting on the cushion to stare at the high ceiling above them. Her eyes darted to the side, meeting Chris’ as she asked, “I don’t know, can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?” 
“Probably not,” he smirked with an amused look in his eyes. 
She laughed as she sat up, Chris following her lead as she told him, “Well in that case it’s a deal.” 
They made their way out of the living room, heading into Chris’ room at the end of the hallway and slipping into his bathroom. She still couldn’t get over the sheer size of the bathroom, it’d been something that surprised her in May when she quickly gathered herself before she tried to leave after they spent the night together. But it truly hadn’t registered until the previous month, when she stayed at his place for a few nights after her car and purse got stolen until she felt comfortable returning to her apartment. The bathroom itself was bigger than her bedroom at her apartment, and the shower was bigger than any she’d ever seen before.
But it clearly wasn’t something even on Chris’ mind as he opened the door into the marble shower, turning on the water before he reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head. She still was standing there marveling over how incredible the space was while Chris shucked the rest of his clothing and climbed in underneath the warm spray before Nat pulled off the white tee shirt of his and tossed it over with his other pile of clothing and got in after him. 
Almost immediately his arms came around her waist, pulling her up against him so he could press a kiss to the top of her bare shoulder and a matching on her cheek, making Nat smile brighter than the California sunshine out the window. She stood up on her toes, kissing his lips and reminding him, “It is so much better kissing you without that caterpillar above your upper lip.” 
“You know that saying about protesting too much? I think that’s you and the mustache,” he chuckled, smirking down at her. “Don’t lie Nat, it secretly turned you on.” 
She raised a single eyebrow as she looked up into his eyes, a near-scowl on her lips as she confessed to him, “Honestly you should just be lucky I was turned on while having to look at that hideous thing before.” 
He shook his head, moving away from her to duck under the stream of hot water, making his short hair stick to his forehead. “At least you met me when I had the beard otherwise I would have probably sent you screaming,” he called over his shoulder to her. 
Nat reached for the bottle of shampoo she’d left for herself earlier, pumping some into her hand. “Well once you got it, it knocked you down in my favorite voice actor rankings for sure,” she admitted, smirking as he met her eyes with a frown. 
“Oh there’s a ranking? So where do I rank on this list?” 
“Maybe fourth or fifth,” she shrugged, working the shampoo through her hair as he stared at her. 
“Fourth or fifth?!” He asked, voice incredulous. “I’m literally naked in a shower with you right now and you’re going to tell me I rank fourth or fifth?” 
She laughed, biting her lip with a smirk before she reminded him, “Remember you drive a Tesla so that’s another point docked for being a snob.” 
The running water trailed down Chris’ broad, muscular back before he turned, facing her as she washed her hair. “So what do I have to do to get up at least in the top three?” He asked, jutting his chin out as he looked at her. 
Nat pursed her lips and shrugged, unable to stop herself from teasing himself a bit as she mused, “That’s for you to figure out.” 
Chris smirked, almost dangerously as their eyes remained locked on the other’s. She knew exactly what he was thinking and her brain was stuck there as well, on the long night they’d just spent together and what he’d just done to her on his couch. But before long, Chris shook his head, reaching for his own shampoo and working it through the short hair on his head. 
His eyes kept finding hers as she washed her hair, his once-shock and now cocky attitude turning to amusement as her curls grew from the water and shampoo, the suds likely comically big while she ran her hands through it, making it grow bigger and causing Chris’ loud laughter to echo off the tiled shower. He reached out, running his fingers through the mess of sudsy hair and shaping it up to make it even taller and his laughs to come out even harder. Nat just stuck her tongue out at him before rinsing out the shampoo, washing out the white foam and making her dark curls reappear. 
His voice surprised her when he finally spoke, interrupting her train of thought as she worked her conditioner gently through her curls. He was occupied with the random bottle of body wash she’d stuck in the shower earlier in the week, squeezing some into the palm of his hand as he asked her, “So who is number one?” 
“Number one what?” She replied, tipping her head back under the shower head and rinsing the conditioner out gently.
“On your list?” He clarified, stepping next to her and under the second shower head, washing his body off. 
“Oh that’s easy, Mindy Kaling,” she easily answered, knowing the answer already. “She honestly was the most involved actor I worked with. She loved Disgust so much and was really involved with a lot of the process. We’d go out to lunch all the time and honestly became friends through the process.” 
His shoulders slouched and his head turned to look at her, head tilted down to meet her eyes as she opened them and straightened up. “Damn I thought I was special,” he whispered. 
“I didn’t sleep with Mindy so you still are the only one with that title,” she placated him, smirking as he grinned at those words. 
He handed her the body wash when she pointed to it, watching her as she finished up. “I want to know who these other idiots are who outranked me,” he murmured, eyes trailing over her body. 
“Tina Fey is number two. She brought me doughnuts a lot,” Nat remembered, smiling at the thought. She reached for the shower wand, moving it over her body before she turned the water off. “And then Samuel L. Jackson is number three. I only met him once but he’s Mace Windu, so he just automatically gets a high ranking.” 
“I’ll allow that,” Chris nodded to himself. He opened the shower door, grabbing towels as the colder air rushed inside the steamy shower. He ran the towel over his hair and face as he stepped into the bathroom, holding it open for Nat as she wrapped it around herself, then reached for her hair towel before following him. “So am I at least number four?” 
“Yeah, I’ll put you in fourth,” she agreed, smirking to herself. 
“So basically what I’m hearing is that I just need to bring you doughnuts and be in Star Wars and then I can move up to second place,” he began, pausing until she nodded in confirmation, making him laugh. “That’s doable.” 
Chris’ laugh echoed through the bathroom as he stepped into his closet, drawers opening as he found clothes for himself. Nat headed into his bedroom, finding her bag near the couch against the far wall, and she began pulling clothes on as well. She’d just made her way back into the bathroom to hang up her towels and begin taming her hair when he reappeared, dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a faded t-shirt, brown hair sticking up all over the place as it dried haphazardly. 
There was something about this that just felt so… good. Sure last night had been wonderful, the excitement of Chris coming back and actually getting to see him in person again, not to mention how incredible it was to be tucked in his bed, being fully connected to one another. But this was different. Today had just been slow and easy, doing laundry, watching TV, and taking a shower. Just normal things, but after so long apart and never having been able to have these moments until months in, it just felt so natural and so right. 
As they moved around each other in the bathroom, Nat drying her curls and Chris pulling out his clippers to shape his stubble that was growing in, she realized just how close they’d become. How he truly had become her best friend in every sense of the word. But that one nagging part of her brain couldn’t help but wonder if he was in just as deep as she was. Chris was in a different world, no doubt having women throw themselves at him constantly and most likely getting his way with most things. She knew that he cared about her but Nat felt anxious, wondering if he was planning on this being a deep committed relationship. 
This kept filtering through her head once they were in the kitchen making dinner together. Nat kept her mouth shut, just listening to the sound of Chris softly singing to the song stuck in his head while she put the chicken in the hot pan on the burner before turning back to the counter, chopping the parsley slowly. Normally Nat wasn’t an anxious person… in fact quite the opposite. She had always been able to just go with the flow, beating to her own drum as she rolled through life. She wasn’t afraid of her emotions, feeling them all so deeply and able to express them so easily, but there was a piece of this that did cause anxiety in her. 
What if he rejected her? 
What if a relationship wasn’t what he wanted, or if this was some temporary thing that he was just filling his time with? If she had been in a more logical state of mind, it would have not even been a thought, his actions proving for months that he wanted her and all that came with her. But the lack of clarity and knots in her stomach had her brain kicking into high gear on overthinking. 
She glanced up, seeing where he had his back to her as he washed the green beans underneath the faucet while Dodger paced back and forth by his legs. She watched the muscles ripple beneath his thin, worn shirt as he moved back and forth between the package of green beans and the cutting board. His eyes occasionally drifted down to Dodger at his feet, his laugh echoing through the open space as he stepped around the dog. Nat swallowed nervously, voice timid as she asked,  “Chris?” 
“Yeah?” He replied easily, tilting his head but barely looking at her as he shut the water off, holding a single green bean in his hand as he smirked down at Dodger. “Hey bubba, you want a snack? You want one of these?” 
“Chris, we’re…” she paused, hesitating enough that Chris turned to look at her fully, brows furrowed. “We’re….dating now, right? Like we’re doing this?” 
He shrugged, a grin pulling on his lips while he placed the last green bean on the cutting board next to him. “I was under the impression we already were,” he told her. 
Nat sighed, shaking her head as she insisted, “I’m being serious.” 
“So am I,” Chris shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was thinking we had been for a while now.” 
Nat nodded, biting her lip to stop the smile from overtaking her expression. “I kind of did too, but I just, wasn’t sure I guess so I wanted to ask,” she replied. 
“If it helps to clarify, I want us to be dating because I only want you,” Chris explained, pushing himself up from where he’d been resting the small of his back against the marble countertops, crossing the distance to stand in front of Nat. His hand reached out for her own, pulling her closer to him. 
“I want that too,” she murmured, unable to help the smile this time as she looked into his eyes. 
She watched as Chris moved both of his warm hands to cup her cheeks while Dodger came to sit by their feet. Nat just looked up into his eyes for a long moment as his thumbs rubbed softly against her cheeks before he leaned down to kiss her deeply as if to seal that spoken commitment between them. The warmth that filled her stayed there throughout dinner, Chris holding one of her hands across the table as they ate together and talked effortlessly but that talking turned to kissing once their dishes were in the sink and that kissing landed them back on the couch where they had been earlier. 
Nat’s sweatpants and panties were discarded before they had even made it to the couch, the only thing on her body being the thin cami that had been buried at the bottom of her bag. She couldn’t pull her lips away from his passionate kisses as she blindly reached for his Nike shorts, Chris lifting his lips so she could get rid of them as well as his boxers before he sat back down as she climbed on his lap. 
His hands slipped underneath the light green cami, holding onto her waist while Nat’s arms slipped around his neck, pressing her body fully into him while their passionate kissing continued. 
It was so easy for Nat to hand her whole heart over to him, trusting him in every way. He’d hardly ever let her down, proving time and time again just how thoughtful he was, how he could apologize when needed, and just how deeply he cared for her. She knew it hadn’t been a mistake trusting him and here she was again, putty in his hands. She rolled her bare hips down into his lap, feeling his hardness underneath her and only managing to get her even wetter than she already was. 
Chris pulled his lips away from hers, his blue eyes bleary as he leaned his head back against the cushion and looked at her. She watched his eyes drop down, following along the lines of her neck before lingering on where her nipples were poking through the thin material and he moved a hand from her waist to come up and pull the loose fabric down, exposing her bare chest to the cool air of the room. Her nipples hardened quickly, even before he dipped his head down, lips meeting her bare skin just as Nat moved a hand down, holding him in place as she lowered herself down onto him. 
Almost immediately, Nat’s head tilted back as she moaned loudly. It was the first time she was feeling him without any barrier and feeling the warmth of his cock inside her was enough to have her shivering on his lap and by the squeeze of his tight grip on her waist, she figured out that he was feeling the exact same glorious feeling. She just sat there for a long moment, adjusting to the slight pleasurable sting of him stretching her while they each caught their breath. 
“Nattie,” he groaned, nipping at her chest. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” 
She moved slightly on him, feeling the sting turn into pure pleasure as she moaned, “So do you, baby.” 
Chris didn’t verbally respond, instead just taking the moment to peel off the bunch up cami and toss it to the floor, allowing him to litter kisses across Nat’s chest before her hands grasped at his broad shoulders and she shifted her weight on his lap. Nat pushed herself more onto her knees, allowing her to start moving her hips up and down, sliding herself along his length and making moans pour from each other's lips. 
It felt so good to be working herself along his hard length, but she knew that it felt even better because of the person she was sharing this moment with. It was right there in her heart, those three little words that were begging to come out. She knew she loved him, she knew that more than she knew anything else, but what she didn’t know is that he felt exactly the same way and had those same words rattling around in his head. 
But she told herself it wasn’t the right time with them having barely been back together, barely hitting the twenty-four hour mark just now, and she instead pushed those words back down, instead letting out a soft moan of his name as she bounced up and down on his lap. It was all so good, her body feeling like it was on fire as Chris’ firm grasp helped lift her up and down as he pressed messy kisses along her collar bone. 
Everything just felt too good and soon her knees were buckling as she faltered in her rhythmic movements. Feeling her stuttered movements, Chris held onto her waist even tighter, gently pulling her off of his hard cock and laid her on the couch right next to where he was sitting before moving to hover over her. Nat was already feeling weak but when he pushed himself back inside her and she heard his low grunt mixed with the thud of his necklace hitting against his chest, she knew that she was almost done for and with him changing his angle to drag against that sensitive bundle of nerves she couldn’t hang on any longer. 
She was grabbing onto him as she cried out loudly, eyes pressing shut tight as she hit her peak, the action making Chris groan from how tight her walls were squeezing him. Nat was panting as her eyes slowly fluttered back open, just enjoying the sight of him plowing into her harder and harder as he got close to his own edge, but seemed to suddenly remember the lack of protection between them and pulled out of her. 
Wanting to be the one who got him over that amazing edge, Nat reached out to palm his throbbing cock, pumping her hand up and down until he was moaning her name while he spilled his essence onto her with his loud cries. Nat just watched as he sat down between her legs, rubbing a hand over his short hair while he tried to catch his breath. She reached out for him lazily, just wanting to feel him close but he took her hand, pressing a kiss in the palm of her hand before telling her, “I’ll be right back, baby.” 
And he was, heading toward the kitchen before returning a moment later with a damp paper towel, cleaning her off meticulously before he folded up the paper towel and left it on the coffee table to be dealt with later. Nat smiled widely as he came back to lay on the couch, maneuvering them so that he was laying on his back while she laid face down on his chest while they basked in the afterglow of how they were feeling. 
She pressed a few soft kisses to the crook of his neck before he nuzzled his nose against her face, getting her attention and making her look up so he could kiss her pink lips. Nat felt his hands running down her bare back, coming to rest on her round cheeks where he rubbed his hands softly as they kissed over and over again. 
She never wanted to leave here, never wanted to leave his embrace, be as far as an arm’s length from him. She never wanted to forget the way his lips felt against hers, never wanted to forget the way he sighed as they kissed, then smirked before he deepened it. She never wanted to forget the sound of his breaths, the slight hitch in them as she moved her hand below his shirt. She never wanted to forget the sound of his laugh, the one that echoed in her mind nearly all the time. She didn’t know how she’d ever live without any of this, and she never wanted to try to figure it out.
A/N: We love them so so so much! We are so thrilled to finally be to this point and sharing these chapters with you all! As a reminder, feel free to send in asks for them at any time! Thank you all for reading!!
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