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eydi-andrius · 1 year

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Fool Entire II

warnings: none, a chase but none at all

pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Highborn!Reader

summary:

If someone asked you who Prince Aemond was in your life, you probably would have said the love of your life.

Years have passed but still your heart yearns for him.

But you were no fool.

It was a lesson learned for you not to give your heart to a man who knows nothing but duty. Highly inspired by the song Bitter Water by Oh Hellos.

a/n: thank you so much for all of your kind words. y'all know how to cheer up this duck. i also started watching chainsaw man and it helped me with swimming out of my misery. thank you and love you all, lovelies!

like always, LIKES are really welcome but this duck will do the duck dance if you also REBLOG and LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS about her stories. i love reading them and they inspire me a lot. ✨ Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

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"He was looking for you."

Mysaria's voice echoed throughout the room and your body went rigid by the mention of the word "he".

Even without mentioning who she was referring to, your mind only sees one person. His silver locks and tall frame in your memory were as clear as the days you have him on your side.

That someone has been haunting your dreams and waking life for the whole year.

Someone you thought you'll forget sooner when he revealed who he truly was.

However, it wasn't as easy as they've said.

You can always hear him anywhere. Smell his familiar scent that once brought warmth and love to your heart. Feel his calloused hands clasping yours as he retold how his day had been. He always carries the air of comfort you believed was impossible to have in King's Landing. Yet, he did it with ease and regal. He was your sun. Bright, beautiful and restful. He was the source of your delight that you forgot how the sun can be harsh the longer you stay close to it.

You thought of his light as gifts long ago but now it was the source of your nightmares and it blinded you from the truth.

The truth that he changed and the love you once shared was nothing but an illusion you created to protect your sanity from your crumbling life that once was an envy to others.

It gets worse the more you try to push the memories away. It gets stronger and more vile. It was torture.

You gulped and straightened your back before you looked at Mysaria.

"Who?" You bite your lip to prevent it from trembling. You're nervous, scared and resentful. What does he need after all this time?

"You know who." Simple words came out of her lips but the impact resounded on your veins. Anger overtook you and with a bitter smile continued the conversation with her.

"I do not understand why you are sharing this with me." You turned your back to her and continued the work you had forgotten for a moment.

"Aren't you curious?" She said and you heard the rustle of her coat as she sat on the nearby stool.

"Why would I be? We both know that when men look for the woman they discarded, it always ends poorly for the lady." And it always does. They mysteriously die or they get miserably imprisoned. Nothing in between.

Silence remains as you continue sewing the clothes. The needle puncturing the cloth echoes loudly and fills the quiet between the two of you. But you can still feel her eyes trained on you, waiting.

"Do you know why he was looking for me?" You finally asked. The thrill of ending the discussion was your only purpose asking.

"I did not inquire. I do not want to know unless you tell me to." With a sigh, she responded and looked from afar.

"I don't want to know." You replied.

"Then I'll pretend I did not hear about it." Defeated, she looked back at you again. A kind look passes her eyes.

A soft "hmmmm" was your only answer as you reeled back your mind to focus on your current task. You do not need any more distractions. The thoughts of him will not fill you and your sister's belly with a warm meal.

~~~~~~~

You huffed as you suddenly stopped, almost tumbling forward, you looked around thinking of where you must go.

"Why are we running!?" An angry shout was heard on your back as Simon tried his best to keep up with you.

If you were still a lady, this type of run was not possible as you were taught to be refined at a young age, at all cost. But after what you have been through, running fast and smart was the first thing you learned in order to survive the harsh truth of living a poor life.

"Tell me where would you go if you wanted to run and not be found by someone?" You looked at him with fear visible in your eyes.

His earlier scowl turned into worry as he looked at you.

"Tell me what is going on?"

"I-" You opened your mouth to explain even a little for him to understand your fear but then you heard your name echoed among the throng of people on the street.

It was impossible to hear it especially if it was called among the busy streets and surrounded by the loud noises of the area yet you did. You’ve heard it growing up, all your life and you will not mistook it from anything else.

You missed how your name rolled off his tongue. How his tone becomes softer and kinder each time he mentions your name even on the worst days of him.

You turned around and saw his lilac eye staring at you. He was on the other side and only the people were his obstacles before he could stand in front of you.

He was breathing heavily and hair disheveled, the hood of his robe flew away, revealing his beautiful silver hair.

You were standing on the other side, frozen. You have forgotten why you run away. You only see him. He had gotten older, mature. But still as beautiful as you remembered him. Silver hair is longer than before. He also wears a new eye patch. The leather is more refined than the ones you help him wear each day.

He called forth your name once again and was about to step forward when Ser Criston tapped his shoulder and his attention was caught by him off guard.

Like a cold water splashed on your face, you realized the reason why you ran and looked back at Simon again, begging.

He looked between you and Aemond and was glad when he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the narrow streets to the center of the market. Running away from the company you did not expect to see today.

By the time you two turned the corner, your name was shouted by him again and hurried footsteps followed you once more.

You expertly dodges the vendors who carry their wares and jump through the carts that blocked your way following Simon diligently.

Meanwhile, you can hear on your back the angry shouts of those who surprised him or Ser Criston’s groans of apologies as they manage their way to the unfamiliar street of Street of Silk.

You ducked when two men holding a pig blocked your way. They were surprised by your sudden appearance and completely stood still in the middle of the street, shouting curses your way. Without looking back you yelled a loud apology as you continued your legs to run faster and forward.

However, when you were about to pass a cart full of fruit, a groan of pain caught your attention and you looked back.

Aemond's hair was caught in between a wheel, possibly because he tried to jump on it but was pulled back when it caught his hair.

You were contemplating whether to help him or not when strong arms suddenly hugged and pulled you back with him. Before you can open your mouth to yell for help, he covered yours and was pulled on a small opening behind a cart. The small door was shut off quickly and you caught a glimpse of Simon in front of you.

The old man signaled for you to be quiet and you nodded at him.

It did not take long before hurried footsteps were heard in front of the small wooden door. You can hear his familiar voice yelling "Qogralbar!" a Valyrian phrase you get used to hearing whenever he is frustrated or annoyed with Aegon.

The sound of your huffed breaths were loud on your ears as all your senses were fixated on any sounds that the men made outside. Until you heard strong footsteps halted in front of the door.

"Have you seen a lady running towards this way?" His deep voice not only echoed through the tight space but also inside your head as it soothes something that you tried so hard to kill and forget.

"You see….. It is normal for this street to see ladies and men running around, running away and running to get away from someone. You need to be more specific about that, ai?" The vendor that was asked replied and all his response was a loud gruffed of disapproval. Even without seeing his face you can imagine his usual sneer.

"My prince, I'm afraid we must go and look now for your brother." Another voice can be heard on the other side, that voice belongs to Ser Criston. When he said brother? Does he mean Aegon is on the Street of Silk? Again? At least something never changes.

Their voices were quiet for a moment before you heard fading footfalls walking away from your hiding space. You breathed a sigh of relief and sagged down. Simon gave a light chuckle at your action.

"I am truly amazed by your speed." He praised and even laughed at you.

You laughed back at what he said and shyly said "thank you."

You were startled when suddenly the door was pried open and a familiar round face of a child peeked at the two of you.

"They're gone." He said and ate the apple he was holding. You nodded a silent thanks and crawled outside the space.

When you were able to go out fully and stand up, a sharp whistle caught your attention and all the loitering people surrounding the area disappeared and sat down in places that will never bother those who will decide to walk here.

You turned around when you heard the clanking coins and saw Simon giving the older man who whistled a bag of coins.

The old man whistled again when he opened the bag and saw what was inside. The child who called forth you two was tiptoeing trying to check the contents of the bag.

"She your mistress?" The man looked and pointed at you using his lips. He wears a goatee and his face has a large scar across his cheek.

Your face reddened and was about to explain when Simon turned his hand to a fist and hit the man on his head.

"We both know my wife is my only love. Stop joking around, Scar." He replied angrily and Scar just gave a throaty laugh.

"She's Mysaria's, best to treat her well." Simon continued and the man named Scar looked at you and nodded.

"Ah…Best to treat her right then. Anyway, I'll go. This will be used for booze, ai!?" He yelled and all the people around yelled "yes" in unison.

You moved forward and stood beside Simon.

"I did not know this existed…." His only response was a sigh and he looked at the retreating frame of Scar.

"This existed not a long time ago when I decided to stay here. Scar is a friend and he is a people person. I'm glad he is doing well" He replied with a look of content and pride.

"Let's go. I'll take you home to make sure you'll be safe so I can ask Mysaria for my lost gold again because of your mysterious Targaryen following you." He winked and you frowned at what he said.

"Targaryen? You knew him?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I do. I am a mercenary. I knew what nobles looked like. And Targaryen was well known for their silver hair. I'll ask you about him at our next meeting. You must go home now and take care of yourself." His face was etched with worry as he stared at your hands. You looked at it and saw that it was shaking. You do not know if it came from fear or you were glad you were able to lose him but you know that you must go home.

The walk home was quiet as Simon whistled a tune and you stared at the floor the whole time.

Maybe you should have asked Mysaria to know why he was looking for you and maybe you could have avoided running around the market to get away from him.

But it was also a fact that no lady who was discarded came out alive except you. You cannot risk it.

So you pray to the new gods that this will be the last time you'll meet him. For your safety and sanity.

"We're here." Simon announced while his hands were on his back. He was standing nearby your home.

"Thank you. I cannot thank you enough for saving me, again." You smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Oh! Don't thank me. I will be paid for running around and saving you. So no, thank you." He responded with a grin. “I beg not to ask for Mysaria’s, I’ll pay for it.” You told him when you realize the amount of debt you must have now with the mistress. “Nah! Mysaria treats you better than her girls. I bet she even liked you like her daughter.” “We both know she hated children.” “That I agree.” He nodded with confirmation and you chuckled. Remembering the way she discarded the idea of children so easily.

He waved his hand once more and you waved back as he walked away from your home.

The small, almost collapsing house, was the home you had known since you started living your new life. It might be run down in someone else’s eyes but you were proud of what you had accomplished on this tiny stone house with a couple of holes on the roof. And you might be ashamed of your previous life in front of all the noble ladies in King’s Landing but no one can shame you for the hard work you did in this second life. You smiled before opening the door softly, afraid to destroy the hinges completely. You called your sister's name but was surprised when you were met with her worried eyes and figure standing in the kitchen. Body facing the wooden seat you had, the only seat you have.

Confused about what was going on, you stepped forward and was met by someone who stood up from sitting. His face was obstructed by his hair at first but when he turned…..you felt your face distorted into a frown.

Your breath quickens with worry and eyes rounded from surprise. You tried to open your mouth to say anything but was too astonished to even form words.

You looked up from your sister when she called out your name and asked you if you knew who the mysterious visitor was. It might be mysterious for her because she was way too young back then but you remembered him.

“Uncle……..what are you doing here?”

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aridlands-apologist · 8 months

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Jurassic Park analysis post 1/??

was watching jurassic park the other day and was just really struck by how much this shot communicates, like.

okay, we have hammond in all pristine white, fancy clothes. opposite him, divided by the worktable that he funds, are sattler and grant, in practical work clothes covered in dust from the literal work on the ground that they were doing. and he is about to use his class position to coerce them into doing what he wants them to do.

his posture is upright and straight and places him in a somewhat superior position to them.

and the light coming in through the window directly onto hammond, illuminating him, giving him a look as if he's descended from on high (and in a way, he has dropped from the heavens to the ground, just. in a helicopter). and knowing from the film just how much spielberg saw himself in this magician who presents illusions for the entertainment of the masses, it is fascinating to me how reminiscent that window light is of a film projector, casting the image of the kindly old wizard hammond is projecting himself as. and so hammond is shown as above them — in space, in class relation, and in his method of arrival. and throughout the film we see hammond associated with this sort of deific imagery, both in how is is positioned compared to those around him, and how he describes himself.

Here, immediately after the brachiosaur reveal (which is a purposeful move to hook them on the park) he engages with the awe the paleontologists feel and positions himself as someone who has performed a miracle and about to cause a revelation. and here too, he puts himself into the superior position. and the first thing he does after this is take them to see a film about the "miracle" of cloning.

he projects himself as a benevolent master to all the little creatures. though we know from how he talks about these creatures that he doesn't care about them at all beyond what revenue they can get for him. they aren't even animals, they're products. living biological attractions.

backlit by another projector, he discusses the science and tech behind the park in terms of light, once more evoking the idea of revelation

in the scene where he argues with nedry, he purposely walks around to this ramp and puts himself into a superior position over nedry in order to talk down to him.

and during his flea circus conversation with ellie, he directly invokes deific language about himself. he is the creator, and this was all a mistake, and he can start it all over, bring a flood and just move on with the next iteration.

#jurassic park

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sabosbabygirl · 10 months

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Pleasure 🩸👅

Y/n & you, female reader

Short read

Warning: blood, sex, chocking, fantasy

Choso (JJK character)

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You look up from your book. He is staring at you intensely.

“What Choso?” you ask him. He looks at you, no change in expression, “I want to…” he trails off.

“Want to what?” you ask, slightly annoyed due to the cramps. “Eat you out” his voice is calm and enticing.

“I..uh…huh?” you are blushing…doesn’t he know…

His eyes elevator you, he leans in and takes the book nicely from your hands and lays it on the coffee table. He grabs your feet and pulls your entire body towards him until you are sitting in his lap. His hand comes up pushing your hair behind your ear and he whispers, “I’m going to eat you out. I want to taste your cum and blood.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There was no arguing this one. Time and time again you keep telling him that “maybe, one day.” Honestly, what reason is there not to let this man eat you out? His entire jujutsu is blood related, the last thing he is concerned about is blood.

You look at him, he is staring, waiting for you. His eyes are light but the dark circles give off the illusion that he hasn’t slept in his entire life. 150 years old, had to sleep at some point. Maybe blood would rejuvenate him. His left hand is around your waist and his right hand is tracing your jawline. All you can do is nod.

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

“CHOSO….I”, you let out a loud moan. You look down to see his eyes rolled back, his tongue playing with your clit and his fingers inside you whirling around. You tighten your thighs around his neck, he removes his fingers……there’s one….slurping up all your wetness and blood. He takes a minute to look at your face…..his face is glistening with your juices, eyes ready to devour again. You bite your lip.

He nods. He starts again but this time he puts his thumb on your clit, massaging it in a circular motion. Slow movement that causes your clit to heat up.

His tongue slowly licking around your pussy. Your moans are his sign of pleasure. With those pleasures sounds, he buries his tongue inside you. Instead of his thumb you now feel his nose against your clit…you can feel the warm of his breathing, tickling, and sending chills of sensation throughout your body. His tongue feels deep inside you. Stroking, moving up and down, twirling. The wetness of his tongue is hot making you quiver.

Your back arches as another wave flows out of you. You hear him drinking in your juices. Not one drop is missed. You feel him start to suck on your clit. He moans. His sucking becomes harder. “CHOSO” a tear starts to form…you are about to go into full ecstasy. His tongue is back inside you, nose against your clit. He slowly moves his head up and down so that his nose is rubbing your clit while his tongue is exploring the inside walls of your pussy.

You look at him, his hands are at your sides, your thighs around his neck. Sounds of him moaning and the wetness mixed together. You look back at his hands…is he……before you are able to understand what he is doing you feel his tongue length to hit your G spot, one hand is *gently* around your neck, squeezing.

His tongue licking vigorously on your G Spot. Your eyes roll back, tears falling, legs shaking, your head is dizzy…….you fade into the Choso Ecstasy.

-----------TWO DAYS LATER-------------

You wake up. You are cleaned, new clothes on and in bed. Choso comes in, “Good Morning” he smiles and puts a tray of food in front of you. He made all your favorites: rice, spam, eggs, chocolate chip pancakes, fruit bowl, iced coffee and water. You look up at him, “Thank you…I…what happened?”

He looks guilty. One of his hands goes behind his head and he smiles, “Um I may have gone a little too far on pleasuring you.” You look at him. “You’ve been out for 2 days. Don’t worry I told the other sorcerers you were sick. But honestly, I used one of my techniques on you so I could fully pleasure both of us.” Your eyes widen. “Umm, but how are your cramps?” he asks while smiling to himself and walking away.

Once he was gone, you assessed yourself. You go to the bathroom: no bloat, no pimples, no pain. You feel your boobs, no sensitive sensation. You pull your shorts and underwear down; you notice that there are no feminine products on your panties or inside you. You feel yourself…no blood.

You look in the mirror…did he…no……no…yes. You remember that his techniques are strictly blood related. You remember seeing him this morning, his eyes a little livelier and his dark circles are not as dominate but still there.

No..No…Did he really eat you out so good that he took all the blood from your period with him…is that even possible.

----Gojo once said: “Anything in sorcerer world is possible, y/n. Even things that seem crazy or too good to be true. That’s what separates us from humans.”-----

You pull yourself together and wash your hands. When you exit the bathroom, Choso is in bed with his own tray, waiting for you. You can see he is a little shy or maybe nervous.

“Soo….” you start off, “you just take all of it” motioning to your vagina. Choso shakes his head “Yes, if I use the technique.” “Are there long-term consequences?” you ask. “Aside from your body passing out for a few days, no. You will still start your period, but I can make it end sooner….” He says.

“Does it help you?” you know it does, you can see it but if you are about to be pleased and not have a long period every month, you want to ensure he gets something too.

“More blood is good for me and my techniques, so yes. And it’s also pleasurable seeing you squirm, and cum repeatedly.” His face changes to almost teasing but also excited.

You blush. A part of you is turned on but you haven’t eaten so the food and hunger are taking over.

You sit next to him and start eating the spam. “So, you aren’t mad at me?”, he asks. “You used a technique to not only further my pleasure but to also take away my period early……that doesn’t warrant a mad “y/n”, does it?” He shakes his head no. “As long as your promise that you will do it monthly” you smirk at him.

“Gladly” he smiles.

#jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #choso #jujutsu x reader #choso x reader #jjk #anime #smut #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso thirsts #choso fanart #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso

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frankcastlescumslut · 10 months

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What If

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Family Planning w Matt Murdock

warnings: mainly fluff, maybe some angst? not really, mentions of pregnancy,

A/N: short little blurb that absolutely nobody asked for this but oh well!! I want it!!

It was calm in the apartment for a Friday night. The smell of Josie’s was confined to the hamper of dirty clothes in the corner while hints of lavender scented body wash permeated the bedroom. It was calm. Peaceful.

It was a nice change; your nighttime routine including Matt, for once— there was something homey about it. Domesticated. He was there, just around the corner, pulling the sheets back and adjusting the pillows to your liking before you would both climb into bed and recount your days to one another as if you had been married for years.

You were afraid that if you verbalized the thought, told him you enjoyed not sharing him with Hell’s Kitchen for once, that the illusion of peace and routine would snap. That he would snap, and you would go back to the familiarity of falling asleep alone again, only to be awoken by a bruised and heavy body falling next to you.

Some things were better left unsaid, so you kept quiet, brushing your teeth in circular motions until you noticed the blood dribbling from your lips.

You almost didn’t hear him, his question drowning behind the gargling water in your throat.

“What if it’s not enough?”

Enough?

“What’s that?” you yell into the sink before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Did you say something?”

The bedroom was dark, your side of the bed bare, the comforter pulled back as an invitation. He was concentrating on something, his brows noticeably furrowed even as your eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“What happens when it’s not enough?” He followed the question with a kiss to your temple as you positioned yourself into the side of his body.

“When what’s not enough, sweetheart?”

“Daredevil.” The stunned silence speaks for itself. “The firm. You. Us.”

Us.

You.

Me.

Your body stiffened at the thought of being lackluster to him. That your life together was somehow incomplete.

Dread quickly spread throughout your body, practically pulling you away from his body, untangling just enough so you could prop yourself against the headboard.

“Well,” you cleared the knot in your throat. “I would ask you what ‘enough’ means.” The chipped paint on your fingernails stole your attention. “What does ‘enough’ look like? Did I do something wrong?“ He was blurry when you finally looked at him.

“No!” God, what an idiot. “No, you didn’t do anything at all!” He was quick to hurry you into his chest, internally damning himself for being the cause of the lump in your throat.

“Then what’s wrong? You just said I wasn’t enough—“

“It was a poor choice of words, that’s my fault, I’m sorry.” His heart galloped in his chest, just beneath your ear. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But?”

“Everything is good— great right now,” his grip against your frame grew tighter.

“But?”

“But it still… it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“Then what can I do to help? What do you need, Matt?”

The confusion began to transform into a mild frustration, and you were grasping at imaginary straws, trying anything to answer his impossible questions.

“I want more.”

The air became stagnant in your lungs as you held your breath.

“No, wait,” he stammered. “I want more of you! I want more of us.”

“I’m not following.”

“I want to start a family.”

The air left your lungs in an impressively long exhale, long enough for you to untwist from his grip and lean against the headboard, suddenly forgetting how to breathe.

“A family?” The mattress dipped beneath your palms and your neck groaned with the weight of your head. Your stomach churned, from both relief and anxiety.

He waited patiently, pushing himself next to you. His breathing was steady, an inconspicuous cue for you to follow his lead, and he gave you both physical and emotional space to process what he himself had been grappling with the past several days.

A baby.

“A family?” You repeated, desperate to read his face.

He was unable to conceal a soft smile, and you softened in return, inching your hand closer to his so that your fingertips barely touched.

“With me?”

“Only if you want to.”

His fingers interlaced with yours, the pad of his thumb rubbing melodic circles into your skin.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of starting a family with Matt before. He would be a wonderful father, that you were certain of, and there were times where you would catch yourself holding onto your stomach, fantasizing about how your appearance would change with a growing belly.

Many of your closest friends were having children or had already started their own families, so it wasn’t that out of the ordinary to think about your future with Matt, but you never allowed yourself to think that way or to go that far, given the implications of his second job and moral obligations.

“What about Daredevil?” Your voice was unwavering, much to your surprise.

“I have it under control,” he said with a lighthearted smile.

“Under control? What does that mean?”

“I got some help. It’s taken care of.”

“Taken care of?” His voice was so steady and matter-of-fact that your eyebrows raised automatically. “Did you just happen to pick someone off the street?”

“He’s from Queens, actually,” he laughed.

“Right,” you huffed in tandem, not fully understanding the connotations, but enjoying his ease nonetheless.

The room grew with a bloated silence, and for once, you allowed yourself to wonder. How does maternity leave work? Would he take paternity leave? Would you breastfeed or bottle feed? Are there any good schools in Hell’s Kitchen? Who would watch the baby while you go to work? Why aren’t there any cute boys clothes? Will a crib fit in the room? Would they look more like you or him? What if you dropped the baby? What if you’re not a good mom?

“Sweetheart,” he called, bringing your hand to his lips, as if leading you away from the cacophony of what ifs and hypotheticals.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I’m just—

“Thinking.” He finished your sentence and you deflated automatically, resting your head against his shoulder.

You weren’t sure of how long you sat like that. Inhaling and exhaling. Inflating and deflating. Slowly sinking into the mattress, disappearing beneath silk sheets.

“You’ve really thought about this then?” You whispered, afraid to jinx something so precious so soon.

“More than you know.” He kissed your temple, emphasizing his sincerity.

“I have one requirement.”

“Go on,” he stretched an arm behind his head, enjoying the simplicity and ease of the conversation.

“Call me old fashioned, but I want to be married first.”

His laugh mimicked a bark, and for a second you were almost embarrassed by your reservations.

“Sweetheart,” he turned onto his side, somehow towering over you, before meeting your lips with his own. “I am Catholic, you know.”

#matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fluff #dad!matt murdock #matt murdock #do i think that matt murdock would willingly stop being daredevil? absolutely not #am i going to make him put daredevil down so he can have a normal and happy life? absolutely yeah #i think matt murdock would be such a great dad and it makes me weepy #he gotta drop that messiah complex though #and go to therapy

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littlebluentebook · 2 months

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Alastor x Sewing!Reader pt.2

Chapter 3

You and Alastor crossed the threshold of the door and as soon as the blanket of darkness took you both over, you shivered.

"You must be freezing Y/N!" Alastor said pulling away.

"Huh? Oh no I am quite alright. It is just a couple of blocks to my place." You countered to the best of your abilities but your actions put no truth into your words. You brought your arms around you in a hug as an involuntary shiver spread throughout your body.

"Well," Alastor chuckled, "if it is just a couple of blocks my dear then I suppose I will be 'quite alright' as well." Alastor reached over his shoulders bending down slightly to wrap you in his coat.

"Thank you," you said going back to his arm.

"Anything for you" he said with a satisfied grin on his face.

You two walked back to your shop in a comfortable silence. You owned the building on top of your shop and lived there. It worked well because you saved time from the commute and were not paying for two separate areas in town. Walking together, you took notice of Alastor's coat around you. Different seams were tearing and there were plenty of holes in the lining. Safety pins that proved the illusion of a well fitting jacket poked at you with each step. 'How on earth is this comfortable' you thought to yourself. The shoulder pads shifted slightly with each step as they weren't stitched down.

"I broadcast at the end of this road." Alastor broke the silence recognizing where you both were as the sewing store came into view. Why didn't he ever take notice of your shop?

"Do you now? Who would have guessed we worked so close to one another and have never crossed paths" you chimed knowing its because you liked the comfort of your home.

"Thank you for walking me home Alastor" you continued incredibly grateful for the gesture.

"Of course darling. Do you need anything else from me tonight?"

"Just for you to get home safe"

"I will. Only because you were pleasant company tonight and I look forward to seeing you again." He ended the night the way it began, a simple gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

"Why thank you doll, you're just as charming as your voice on the broadcast. Safe travels- I'll see you again." With that you waved him goodbye, a smile plastered on your face. He was just the sweetest thing to you!

Alastor made it halfway home realizing you still had his coat. 'No worries' he thought. He would just pick it up Monday on his way home from work. He was content with the night, happy a nice person such as yourself was home safe and likely tucked away sleeping.

However, as soon as Alastor was out of your view, you got to work. Sure you had the next two days to get the coat returned to Alastor but you were excited for the project. Immediately you went to your sewing tables and flipped the blazer inside out. This made it easier to see what you were working with. There was a large tear in the lining in the back middle seam. The waist was pinched by bent safety pins on both the left and right sides as well as the back to create a tailored appearance. There were rips in the armpits causing the lining to tear away and multiple inner seams were torn.

It must have been difficult for Alastor to find properly fitting clothes with how tall and lean he was. If he sized down things would be too short on his long body so sizing up and altering the appearance was his only option.

The best way to fix his coat would be to tear out and replace the lining. It needed to be taken in at the waist and armpits and the sleeves needed to be hemmed a slight amount. Getting to work, you took your supply of old flour bags and started to trace a pattern. Cheap fabric could be difficult to come by so you offered discounts to anyone who would bring you the fabric for flour bags.

The new lining was made out of a heavier duty material rather than the cheap fabric already in the suit that could hardly hold a stitch without ripping. It took a while between all the cutting and stitching but you had the lining fit and sewed into the suit. Getting ready to hem and tailor the the coat, the sun started to peer through your blinds clearly curious about your work. Being focused in your work wasn't anything new, often times you were unable to sleep when you got a new project idea in your head.

Deciding to take a break, you headed upstairs. While getting ready; changing your clothes and washing your face, just doing the daily fixings you put a cup of coffee on the burner and set some breakfast in the oven to warm up. Once finished you headed down the stairs to open your shop and get started for the day.

You had Alastor's coat to finish- which now would take half an hour at most now that the hard part was out of the way. The blanket needed to be done this weekend and a few pants and dresses to hem. Next week you would start preparing for Mimzy's dress order.

A/N Hi everyone! Sorry this is short. I have been writing out all the parts to this story and then typing them all! I intend for this story to get pretty long and will be asking for some opinions soon! Thank you for reading!!

#alastor x y/n #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #x reader

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omkookie · 10 months

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♡ Suitors ♡ · Roger, William and Alfons.🩷

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, kind of angsty.

His hands roam your body, his fingers teasing all of your sweet spots and undressing you with a practised hand.

Even if you still resent him for how he betrayed you, your body still loves his touch and craves it. You haven't changed one bit since he remembers… except you've gotten quite snarky and aggressive towards him.

But he still likes you, even if you're like this.

He holds you closely as he penetrates you, his cock sinking into you with one swift thrust before he ruthlessly fucks you into the mattress. Even if you curse him, curse his name, and tell him how much you hate him, you still come undone beneath him. Your nails claw his back so hard that you leave marks behind. He turns you into an overstimulated mess with tears running down your face, and his cum dripping down your legs.

Unfortunately, you don't waste a second to stay any longer once you're done having sex. You put on your clothes and leave him.

It's okay though, even if you leave him the moment that you've finished, he knows you'll be back. He knows that it doesn't matter how many times he makes you cry, you'll always come back.

But why does he feel a pang of guilt in his chest every time you leave?...

You shouldn't have indulged in your desires, as tempting as they were.

He was the worst temptation of all, and even if you hated him you still couldn't resist wanting him and his body.

You touch him, craving more and more of him throughout the night even as you know this will be nothing but a fleeting moment where you exchange intimacy. Your lust for him still manages to overthrow the part of you that resents him, and you run your fingers through his smooth hair while his face makes its way between your thighs.

He takes care of you throughout the night and until morning, his mind curious about what path you'd take next…? What would you do? Go back to your normal life and cut him off, or continue to seek him out like this?

Not wanting to do anything more than fuck him, you leave him once you're done and head off to who knows where.

Only later when you stop visiting him for a late night tryst does he find out that you've found a new lover.

A fair enough play of events for the self-righteous king who left his little robin all alone outside in the raging storm.

Why does he feel some envy when he sees you happily holding hands with your new lover though?

You hate this man full of lies and illusions.

He's a sick…sick…twisted evil man.

Even if so, he continues to please you with his body and toy with you despite knowing you hate him.

He puts his body on yours, your tongues coming together to entangle in a kiss while he strips you of your undergarments and positions you on his lap. His big hands hold your soft thighs as his fingers make their way towards your entrance, and then slide inside of your wetness with ease.

"Isn't this the best proof that you're enjoying it?" He asks you while slipping another finger inside of you, and making your face flush red in embarrassment at how easily his fingers enter inside of your body without any resistance.

He unbuckles his belt, allowing his cock to spring out of its confines and then eagerly press against your entrance. Even if you can't stand him... what's wrong with indulging in the temporary pleasures that he can provide you with and escaping reality?

How he holds you is awfully sweet and gentle… almost like a lover would, while he whispers sweet little words of praise in your ear.

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bumpkinspice0 · 9 months

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Parallels Chapter 8: Not a Monster

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5824

Summary: Miguel is lost in the multiverse and you're the only one that can possibly find him... but how? And what does it mean for your relationship?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, Slight Dubcon (Miguel is full feral but his advances aren't unwanted), ANGST, man pain, some self loathing, it's time to grow up and talk about our feelings... just a little. A/N: Electro is a silly, silly name and I couldn't take it seriously. You have my full permission to laugh at the fight scene.

Previous. Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 8

Not a Monster

The Tower was practically empty this time of night. Your quick footsteps echo through the massive, vacant building, it was haunting.

You pull at your nanotech suit as you run down the long corridor. You’re still not used to the futuristic material. You had to rush out of your apartment, Lyla claiming there was no time to waste. You left a hastily scribbled note for Gwen and headed to the roof.

A new wave of panic rushes over you as you enter the dark hallway of Miguel’s lab. It felt wrong being here without him. Lyla hovered with you the entire time.

Miguel was missing. What did that even mean?

How the hell can you go missing when your energy signature is constantly tracked throughout all of time and space.

Lyla informed you of the situation as you ran. Miguel had gone after an Electro anomaly yesterday afternoon. He’d tracked it for hours through whatever universe it’d fallen into. It could teleport, making him extremely illusive. The last time they had a clear signal on his location he was engaged in combat then… nothing. He’d disappeared off the map for at least 10 seconds, then— he was everywhere. His signal was scattered to thousands of dimensions, each one indecipherable from being the real one. Lyla couldn’t reach him anymore. If she scanned them all at once she would crash completely, taking hours to reboot. She could only go through a few dozen at a time and her efforts were proving to be fruitless. Valuable time was wasted while she scanned through the multiverse at a snail's pace, so she called you in to help. You still had no idea why she called you of all people.

If Lyla, the all-knowing omnipotent AI, couldn’t find him, how the hell could you?

You walk to the center of Miguel’s laboratory, expecting to see dozens of spiders working tirelessly in front of computers to find him. Instead, you’re met with more silence.

“Lyla, where is everyone?” you ask, completely dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” She glitches in front of you.

“Miguel’s missing. Don’t we have a team, like… working on this?”

“Not protocol,” she shakes her head, “At least, not for something like this anyway. We don’t want to cause panic. If we can solve this quietly, we will. In such a massive malfunction case like this, the lead duty falls to the architect.”

You furrow your brow, “Who the fuck is the architect?”

“That would be me,” A voice from overhead echoes across the cavernous room. Miguel’s desk platform begins to lower down. On top of it stands a man you’d never seen before. He was tall, tan-skinned, with messy dark hair and a lean build. He wore a set of goggles atop his head and loose-fitting clothes with an obnoxious striped scarf to top it off. You’ll never get 2099 fashion. No, you’d never met him before, but you recognized someone else in his features. That strong jaw, kind eyes, and pouty lips. This was undoubtedly Miguel’s brother, “Gabriel O’Hara. Gabe.”

You jump up to the platform and shake his hand, offering your name as well. “Why am I here, Gabe?”

He lazily raises his eyebrows at you as if annoyed by the question, “You can track Miguel through the multiverse.”

You have to catch yourself from falling on your ass. “Excuse me?”

“I told you to ease her into it!” Lyla blips in front of Gabe, several pixels flaring around her in anger.

“We don’t have time to ease into it. We barely have time for a crash course ,” Gabe waves her off and walks to a computer. With the click of a button, a massive projection takes over the room. Intricate weaving webs of red connecting together. Within the webs, hundreds of white dots are scattered. “One of these…” Gabe points to a white dot, “...is Miguel. The real Miguel. The rest are false readings. I don’t know what that thing did to his watch and we have no way of knowing which one is the real one. It’s like his signature was cloned and thrown around. Lyla said we wanna try do this quietly before we jump to rally the calvary, so that’s why you're here. Your connection with him can make you do that. You can track him.”

Your heart instantly sinks. He was talking a mile a minute to the point you barely understood him, but that last sentence rings in your head like a gong. He knew.

“I told him,” Lyla explains as she materializes in front of you. You wonder briefly if she can read minds, but your dread must have been painted all over your face. “It’s our last chance and I couldn’t just keep important information like this. He’s the only one that knows my system, he would have found out eventually. You could be our only hope if—.”

“I– I don’t understand—” You finally stammer out.

“Look, I don’t know how your bond thing works either but Lyla seems to think it’s the best chance we have. So, whatever you did to get him to...” Gabe’s rambling comes to a slow halt. He must have finally understood what you’re confused, blank stare was about. He sighs into his hand, “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?!” You blurt.

“That’s why we should have eased her into it!’ Lyla palms her non-existent face.

“Fucking Migs. Tengo que hacer todo por aquí ,” Gabe mumbles as he turns back the control console. “Here. You might as well hear it from the horse's mouth.” A screen illuminates in front of you, Miguel in the center frame. It’s a recording, a timestamp and a date marked across the bottom. You recognize the date— That day after the Goblin Queen attack.

“New developments with the spider-sense connection,” He starts, his voice clinical and monotone. “While the sense was previously thought to be only triggered by close contact of various ranges, this is no longer the case. A response seemed to also be triggered by distress from the opposite party. I felt her while she was in her home dimension. This connection appears to be able to… transcend the multiverse itself.” He takes a moment to breathe into his hands. You share the sentiment. Your spider-sense can travel time and space? There’s just no way. You feel your legs buckle, catching yourself on the nearest chair. Miguel looks back up at the camera, “I went to her dimension last night. I just felt a… pull there. When we fought it was—”

Gabe stops the recording and you feel like you take your first breath since you got here.

The way you’d been feeling since this afternoon… you chalked it up to being too emotional over catching the Fisk’s and having nostalgia because of your great partner. Idiot, you should be able to recognize a spider-sense by now. Then again, if Miguel wasn’t there, what reason would you have to think it was?

A spider-sense that could stretch the multiverse? It didn’t sound possible.

“He’s not in the original dimension he started in, we know that much. We don’t know what was damaged,” Gabe continues, “I know we’re asking a lot but you might be our only option here.”

This was just too much. He says it all like it’s so goddamn easy. It must be an O’Hara trait, you think.

This was something that was so far beyond just you. The leader of Spider Society, the man with the answers to the multiverse’s fate rests in your hands. You want to scream. You want to fall apart and crawl into the closest dark corner and never come out— But you don’t have that luxury right now.

You’re Spider-Woman. You’d done more reckless things on less information dozens of times. Not necessarily a bragging point, but it helped you feel better at the moment. Miguel was out there somewhere. Amongst these thousands of scrambled dots, one was the real him— struggling and alone. You could feel him fighting.

Save Miguel first, yell at him for putting you in this position later.

Lyla materializes in front of you, a gentle expression on her face, “You can do this.”

So… How do you fucking do this? Your spider-sense was never something you actively thought about. It just happened, usually at the most inconvenient times. Maybe that was just it. You were thinking too much— You had to just let it happen. It’s as good a starting point as any.

You swivel to the center of the multiverse projection and take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Gabe speaks, “What’s she—”

“Shut up!” Lyla instantly silences him in a hushed tone.

Several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. You feel the tension in your limbs melt away as the buzzing in your head becomes clearer— it was your guiding light. You’re not sure how to follow it, but if this thing was truly a part of you then it should come naturally… right? Your gut stirs, knowing somewhere out there your spider double needs you. Know that it may only be you that could save him. How poetic, you think.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, recalling those first feelings of the spider-sense. You’d never felt it before yet you knew exactly what it was. On top of that, you knew exactly what caused it. A completely alien sensation to your body yet you knew exactly what it wanted— You just knew. You weren’t naive about it anymore, you weren’t scared of it. You wanted to know its full potential. It was showing you tonight.

It starts like a faint pulse in your ears. A beacon. You open your eyes, taking in the thousands of twinkling white lights amongst the web of the multiverse. One of them is Miguel… the real Miguel. One calls to you.

You stand, walking amongst the projection. You step to the left, the pulsing fades— Colder. You continue to your right, following the rhythmic pull. You picture Miguel, everything about him. His face, his scent, the deep baritone voice— The pulse grows faster.

You recall the way he squeezes your hips when he makes love to you. His touch was always rough but somehow still caring and loving. Ironic how that encapsulates him as a person. A sheep in wolf’s clothing.

You come to a stop, one of the single blips seemingly shining brighter than the rest. Your sense jumps as you reach out for it. This had to be it. You tap the small projection, several screens expand with various information about the mystery universe.

Earth 774-b. A decimated world ravaged by wars long past. Almost no human population. What remained there was rubble, slowly being grown over with moss.

“This it?” Gabe steps to your side, looking over the schematics.

“It’s… what I felt.” You answer.

“Well, we wouldn’t wanna ignore a gut feeling,” He grumbles, jumping off the platform. He motions for you to follow— you do. Several small robots crawl to his aid, carrying various pieces of equipment. He comes to a work desk, rummaging several things out of the drawers, “Your watch, please.” He demands more than asks.

You extend your wrist and he immediately begins tinkering with the interdimensional device. He welds on a small bolt to the side, “This should protect it from any direct electromagnetic attacks. Wouldn’t want a repeat and have 2 missing spider’s on our hands.” He turns to one of the robots, grabbing a backpack it dutifully brought him. He reaches inside, grabbing a second watch, “This is for Miguel when you find him. I suspect his current watch is fried,” He drops it back in and pulls out another device. You recognize it as one of the force field traps, “This is for Electro when you find him. It’s specially made for someone of his abilities. You have 3 of them. Contain him first if you find him.” He hands you the backpack, “There are medical supplies and food and water rations. You have 3 hours before we send in backup. Stay in contact.”

And with that, he hands you the pack and walks back to the monitors. You feel like a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool. You don’t have time to think, you barely have time to breathe. After all your years of superheroing, you think you’d be more used to being treated like a soldier. In a lot of ways, you were still just a kid that got bit by a spider.

You put in the coordinates to Universe 774-b. Lyla appears at your shoulder as the portal bursts to life in front of you.

“If anyone can do this, it’s you.” She assures you. She probably recognized the fear in your eyes. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nod, your mask materializing over your face. You were Spider-Woman. This was just another Tuesday night for you—no big deal. You can do this.

______________

This universe had a distinctive scent you’d never smelled before. Like oil poured over fresh-cut grass. An entire planet that humans hadn’t touched for decades, but their crumbling cities and rusting machines still sat idle. Nature had already overtaken most of what remained in this dystopian New York— You hated it. It could very well be a bleak image of your home city. The thought makes you shutter and you push it to the back of your mind.

It was mid-afternoon. You’d been in the apocalyptic world for nearly an hour now, Lyla leading you to the largest energy signature in the vicinity— Smack dab in the middle of what used to be Time Square. With no technology on the planet, it wasn’t hard to find. Your spider-sense has been a quiet hum the entire time here, surprisingly. You thought it would jump and sing as soon as you entered this dimension but so far it remained tame.

It was starting to feel like a complete gamble on Miguel even being here.

What if your intuition was completely wrong? In the rush, you hadn’t even considered this could be all for nothing. A multiverse spider-sense tracker? Ridiculous. Miguel could have been wrong before. You could have just convinced yourself there was something special about this universe, surrounded by people begging you for an answer.

This could all be for nothing and Miguel could still be lost… or worse.

You push the intrusive thoughts down, not wanting to needlessly distract yourself from the task at hand. You had 2 more hours here and you were going to use them regardless. You were closing in on the energy signature.

You hear it before you see it. Distant electric crackling followed by crumbling bricks. Hope overtakes your growing anxieties. You swing up to the surrounding rooftops and peer down into the crumbling historic square. There in the open center of the towering buildings stood Electro, alone and fuming.

“ Come out! Come out!” He screamed, blasting an electric charge into the withering billboard for Phantom of the Opera. By the looks of the surrounding freshly charred buildings, he’d been at it for a while. “ Come out and fight like a man! ”

He was talking to Miguel. Taunting him… but where was he? Hiding or injured, most likely. You’ll find out soon enough. Even amidst the several revelations, relief washes over you. Miguel was here— somewhere.

You hadn’t seen an Electro like this before. Whereas most wore a green and yellow suit with an obnoxious lightning-decorated cowl, this man didn’t seem to even be completely human anymore. He still wore a skin-tight suit, but it was black. His skin glowed a translucent blue. You could see the energy flowing through him. It surged through his entire being, like blood through veins. He didn’t just have power over electricity— He was electricity. This was a being of pure energy.

That would have been nice to know ahead of time.

He abruptly halts his rampage, cocking his head to the side. Before you can react, a bolt shoots directly at you. It hits the bricks at your feet, sending you tumbling into the square. You catch yourself mid-fall and swing to the opposite end of the street. So much for the element of surprise.

You find a perch on a crumbling billboard a few stories above the square. Electro faces you, searing in anger.

“ You’re not him! ” His electronic voice crackles, “ Where is he?! ”

“Look, dude, I was hoping you could tell me.” The attempted joke is immediately met with another rage-fueled blast of energy. You’re able to dodge this time, swinging down another level. You expect another attack but instead, you see the villain fall to his knees, wheezing and shaking. He was exhausted, who knows how long he’d been at this stupid charade.

A realization hits you. He feeds off energy. It sustains him as well as his powers. There wasn’t anything for him to feed off of in this dead world. He was weaker— Significantly weaker. If there was a time to capture him, it was now. Gabe told you to contain him first before you hunted for Miguel.

You quickly grab one of the traps out of your bag. Not giving him a single second to regain himself, you pounce. You can end this now and find Miguel. Easy as pie.

But of course, it’s never that easy, is it?

You’re almost on him when he vanishes, and you stumble to the now empty ground— Teleportation. Right. He reappears behind you in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate to blast you again at point-blank range.

An electric field engulfs you, surging searing hot pain through every fiber of your being. You drop the trap amidst the chaos. You twist and scream in the field, unable to control your body’s movements. It takes hold of you as you're lifted from the ground by nothing but pure energy.

“ Your suit’s like his,” Electro laughs, “ Makes for a great conductor. Now let’s see that watch. ”

He knew about the multiverse watches too— Great.

You could feel the nanotech waving in and out of existence amongst the static. You desperately reach for the trap, trying to shoot a web or just bring it to your hand by sheer willpower. No such luck.

Even amongst the blinding pain, you felt something. The very thing you’d been praying for since you got here— A buzzing in the back of your head.

It happens in a flash. A rusted car is thrown towards you both, missing you by inches but dispersing Electro’s being into thin air. You drop to your hands and knees, taking in the biggest breath of your life. The remaining energy twitches through you as you stand back on your shaky feet. Your nanotech suit tames down back to its original design.

You look in the direction the car was thrown from— and there he is. Crouched on all fours with a mask drawn over his face.

“Miguel!” You shout, immediately running towards him.

“S-stay back!” He growls, a deep raspiness to his voice. You screech to a halt instantly. He didn’t sound normal.

“ Spider-Man! ” Electro materializes back above the square, arms outstretched. He couldn’t have much juice left. He was putting all he had left into this fight. “ And a Spider-Woman, my lucky day. I’ll kill you both and rip those dimensional travel devices off your cold dead bodies. ”

Miguel pounces immediately, swinging up to the floating menace. So much for making a plan. If Miguel had been stuck in this hellscape for nearly a day, you’re sure he was frustrated. He was lashing out without thinking— and it could be the perfect distraction.

They dance around each other in midair. Miguel effortlessly dodging lightning bolts and Electro weaving between webs. Their efforts were fueled by rage and exhaustion. You take the opportunity to scale the buildings rather than join in the fight.

Webs and brute force meant nothing if he could disappear at will. You had to be smarter than that. He just had to get close and you’d have him. Proximity was all you needed.

You perch yourself 10 stories up, at least half a block from the fight. You pull out your second trap. With how fast they were moving, they’d swing by you any second. As if on queue, you see Miguel’s head snap in your direction. His gaze shoots through you like a spear. You hold up the electric trap and wave your arm in a beckoning motion, you think he gets the message. He swings the fight around, moving directly for you.

Keeping Electro’s focus on him, they swing in front of you. You have a split second to react. Electro’s back to you, you jump. He’s only a dozen or so feet away from you and at a lower angle. You have the advantage.

You arm the device mid-air as you lunge closer. Once directly above him, you release it. The trap locks on to its target and begins webbing glowing red beams around Electro. It entangles him, trapping him inside an impenetrable force field. Trapped, he plummets back to the ground. You swing down to follow, flanked closely by Miguel.

He tumbles to a jarring stop inside the makeshift prison cell.

“ What is— ” He stands, touching the glowing red walls. He’s immediately zapped away from the containment field. Enraged, he attempts to blast through it, only to have the electricity immediately returned and ricochet around the containment cell. He continues to rampage despite the repeated results.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch, setting the coordinates for Spider Tower, “Take him in.”

“Aye, aye,” The AI replies, a portal forming directly beneath the red cage. Electro drops out of reality in an instant.

You turn to Miguel, only to find him several yards away with his back turned to you. His posture isn’t normal, he’s hunched over and twitchy. You can hear him dragging in ragged, growling breaths. He was tired. He’d just been through a traumatic event for all you know.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch again. “Tell Gabe I’ve found Miguel, but just… give us a minute.”

“Don’t be too long,” She responds. Even though she’s artificial, you think you can hear a sense of relief in her voice. The crisis was averted. Miguel was safe— you think.

“Mig?” You step towards him, cautiously reaching out.

“I said,” His head flinches to the side, sleek mask dissipating. “ Stay away! ” He slashes at you, baring his teeth and claws. His fangs, you’d never seen them before. His eyes were completely taken over by crimson red. His features were contorted and angry. He crouches down, resting his weight on his hands. He was trembling— Holding something back.

His power dampeners— oh, you absolute idiot.

Amongst the chaos, you’d all somehow completely forgotten the thing Miguel desperately needed to stay cognitive. The very thing that keeps a side of him at bay. He hadn’t dosed himself in nearly a full day, and the animal was taking hold. He was agitated. Volatile. Your spider-sense rings through you like a warning— or, something else?

This was not the same Miguel you knew.

A glitch shakes through his being. His watch was damaged, unable to regulate his unstable atoms in the alien world. He comes out of the glitch raging, clawing at the surrounding rubble. Anything and everything was his target. He throws more cars, he slashes street lamps in half. So, this is what happens when he doesn’t take his dampeners?

“Miguel!” You scream over the chaos. He halts his rampage, staring you down. Those eyes were absolute daggers. You speak calmly “I have a watch for you. Let’s get you home and get you taken care of. It’s over. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Taken care of,” He repeats. His animalistic voice sends chills down your spine. He stalks toward you, you don’t move. Even hunched over, his height still dwarfs you.

You take out the backup watch and drop your bag to the side. The spider-sense hummed in anticipation. You’re not sure if it’s telling you to run or stand your ground. Regardless, you reach for his arm. Just get the watch on him, and you can go.

He grabs your wrist so quickly you don’t even register the movement. He pulls you against him. You feel yourself shrink in his grasp, and your spider-sense sings. He brings your wrist up to his face, trailing his nose down your arm with a deep inhale. He stops at your neck— you feel his fangs graze the soft flesh there. It sends a wave of heat straight to your core.

Why weren’t you scared right now?

“ Mi añarita. Me encontraste,” He growls against you, sending all your hair on end, “ ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí?”

He brings you down to your shaking knees, crawling on top of you. His massive limbs cage you in. You could easily scurry out of it— away from him, but you don’t want to. You could feel it building as you had dozens of times before. He could take you right here and you’d revel in it.

It takes every fiber of your being to push down your building urges. Not here. Not now— He could be hurt and starving for all you know. You had a mission. Get Miguel home, despite what your selfish desires wanted.

His guard is lowered, distracted by his primal impulse. You were completely on your back while he hovered over you. You take the opportunity to hit the home button on his backup watch, opening a portal directly behind your head. You raise your feet to Miguel’s stomach, kicking him over you into the portal before he can fight back. He needed his meds. You had to get him back now, like it or not.

“Lyla!” You scream into your watch, jumping through the portal as well, “Tell Gabe to get his dampeners ready! He’s on edge and we’re coming in hot.”

You fly through the dimensional wormhole, trailing only feet behind Miguel. He thrashed and spun as he was shot through the fabric of time and space itself. You take advantage of the rolling zero gravity environment and start to web him up, subduing his violent movements. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Simple webs couldn’t hold him for long but they’ll have to do for now. You had to get him back and everything could be taken care of.

You both fly out of the portal, tumbling over each other on the lab floor. Miguel roars as he struggles against the webbing, several strands snapping in the process. He stands, whipping himself around violently, his arms are nearly free.

A small neon green dot flashes across your vision. A dart filled with his dampener serum sinks into his neck. He collapses to the ground instantly. You turn to see Gabe holding a tranquilizer gun.

“Three times the dose with a little bit of sedative,” He places the gun on a nearby table, “Sorry about that, his… condition completely slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, mine too,” You groan, picking yourself up off the floor. You look at Miguel laying there, subdued and face still contorted in anger. You have the urge to wail over the sight. You did this to him. You want to reach out to him, take care of him. He’s in pain and you—

You immediately head for the door, feeling your spider-sense threatening to make your emotions boil over.

“He’ll be up in a few minutes!” Gabe shouts after you.

“Just need some fresh air,” You call back, picking up your pace.

___________

You sit on the walkway outside of his room for nearly an hour. You dangle your feet over the cavernous edge, looking down at the vast multi-hundred-story tower. There wasn’t a single spider inside now. Gabe had left about 20 minutes ago, wishing you a good night and thanking you for your help. You tell him the same and that was that. Miguel’s brother, the architect of spider-kind… You wonder what his background role was the rest of the time. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

You don’t know why you haven't gone home yet. You wanted to but… something was keeping you here. You wanted to make sure Miguel was okay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in to see him either. You wanted to… but you wanted to give him time. Hell, you needed to give yourself time too.

You felt another urge from the spider-sense tonight. The need to protect. To soothe and subdue. To save your— You were getting too close to him. Too close to all of this, and it scared you.

You wonder if Miguel remembers. If he has any semblance of control when the spider side takes over. He seemed to, if only just barely.

“Hey,” A familiar calming voice pulls you from your thoughts. Miguel stands behind you— The Miguel you knew. The man with kind eyes and rigid posture. The sight of him instantly puts you at ease. “You didn’t come inside.”

“I wanted to but… It felt… It was a lot.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, taking a seat next to you— the understanding is completely mutual, you know that by now. “You saved my life today. I won’t forget it.”

“Don’t mention it,” You look down at your feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.

“I mean it. Thank you," he insists. You give him a faint nod and a smile. You want to ask him about it, about the animal inside him. About the spider-sense and why he didn’t tell you about its full capabilities sooner. About his brother, “I’m sorry.” He says instead.

“About what specifically?” you ask, coming off more irritated than you’d like to.

“How about everything?” His words cut through you like a knife. You felt his guilt behind them, “Sorry you had to come here, sorry about Gabe, sorry you had to clean up my mess, sorry you… had to see me like that.”

You could hear the regret in his voice. Miguel O’Hara sincerely apologizing, you should get a camera.

“What happened to start all this?” you ask.

“It was a routine mission,” he starts, “He showed up in a populated area in a separate dimension. I thought it would be a quick grab. I underestimated him… drastically. You saw him, he could disperse his form at will. He could connect to any technology— Any machine. He got into my watch… to Lyla. I had to cut my connection.”

Untold horrors could happen if a desperate villain got a hold of Lyla— a hold of the power of the multiverse. It was a scary thought.

Miguel continues, “He fried my watch’s power by the time we landed. Thought I caught some luck when we landed somewhere he couldn’t recharge.”

“Your signal was copied over a thousand realities,” You inform him.

“He scattered it looking for a way out, sending us both flying through the multiverse. When I cut off my connection, he was booted out of the system.” He clarified, “Didn’t want him to know where the home base was, anyway. Turned out to be a good thing, I think. Didn’t really consider myself at the time. I just had to keep him out. I would have figured something out eventually. I just had to outlast him.”

“Made a lot of work for me,” You grumble, jokingly. You bring your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me… That we could do this? Sense across the universe.”

He takes in a heavy breath, running his hand through his fluffy hair, “I thought it was a complete fluke. I thought I felt something and it turned out you were in a fight. Or maybe even a coincidence. Or if it was something, at least it only pertained to me. I’m… different from you. I had a shaky hypothesis. I should have tested it more. I’m sorry.”

Two apologies? You really should get that camera.

“Did you feel me too, tonight? Across the universe?” you ask.

“Not until you were there. My mind wasn’t— I wasn’t—” He looks away, ashamed. You stomp down the urge to reach out and hold him. You don’t want to overstep a boundary. Did you even have those kinds of boundaries with him anymore? “If you ever have to see me like that again, you have my full permission to stop me… By any means necessary.”

“Miguel, it’s—”

“By any means necessary,” he repeats, tension dotting his words.

You could feel his self-loathing in his words. His hatred for this part of him. He was disgusted with himself. What he had done— what you both had almost done. You wanted him so badly in that moment back in the dystopian world, your spider-senses battling each other for it. You felt a little disgusted with yourself too.

The only other person in the multiverse that could understand was sitting right next to you, and you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything.

You wanted to be his friend. You wanted this man to know he could talk to you completely judgment-free— and you knew you had to be the first one to take the step. You couldn’t keep each other at arm's length while still sharing these deeply intimate and personal things together.

You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. There had to be a compromise. You had to tell him you cared about his wellbeing— if only a little. You needed to.

“I know you don’t feel like you can always rely on people, Miguel,” You begin, feeling his gaze drill into you, “I know you think you have to hold it all together yourself. That’s just part of being a spider… being a hero. But if that were true you wouldn’t have built this place. Even with all the help in the known universe you still think you’re the only one you can count on. Think about that.”

You stand, taking a few steps down the walkway. You take a deep breath before continuing “You’re not just a man but not a monster either, Mig. And you’re not alone. Remember that next time you treat yourself like you're expendable.” A portal to your dimension opens. You pause before stepping through, “I would do everything I did tonight again. I’m glad you’re okay, but don’t scare us like that again. Lyla was worried sick at the thought of never seeing you again.”

And so was I.

His somber expression is the last thing you see before stepping into the multiverse.

__________

Translations: Tengo que hacer todo por aquí.- I have to do everything around here. Mi añarita. Me encontraste. ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí? -My little spider. You found me. Have you come to take care of me?

And as always, let me know if I'm making a complete fool of myself, Spanish speakers! I appreciate anyone who comes in to help out with it!

__________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #parallels fic

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fortune-fool02 · 1 year

Text

Her Teasing

Leon Kennedy x female reader

Summary: She knew teasing him so often wouldn’t end well. But that’s what she wanted.

Warning: 18+ Smutt. Rough-kissing. Teasing, Oral-pleasure reader giving, Leon receiving.

Vendetta Leon is king and he haunts my mind. Forgive this attempt at sin as it has been a long time since I wrote any.

Please enjoy.

He knew she was doing it on purpose now. At the beginning of the night, it was brushed off as playful moments, but now he knew what she was trying to do. [Name] had put on that dress that hugged her body just right to show off her figure. Cutting off just above her knees, giving the illusion that the stockings she was wearing were tights, but Leon knew better.

On the surface to their friends and colleagues, [Name] was this timid, sweet-hearted woman who would bend over backwards to help them with whatever they needed. A woman who would blush at the mere thought of sexual jokes or commentary. But deep down, she was one of the most dirty-minded people he knew. And he loved it. There were times she caught him by surprise, making him feel a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Bringing him up to higher peaks and giving a gentle comeback down. It was funny how she would act so polite and innocent around their friends but give him the most hungry look the moment their backs turned.

Tonight was no different. Leon sat with Chris, the man talking about something other than he missions for once while [Name] and Rebecca sat on either side of them. The table was large and round, allowing coverage and comfort. The music spilling from the speakers made it a bit difficult to hear their conversation but they were able to make out most of what Chris was saying.

“So, it turned out, he didn’t even have any bullets in the chamber!” Chris and Rebecca broke out laughing at the story while [Name] only chuckled. Her eyes fluttering with that sweet little smile of hers that could melt hearts of the coldest of people. Leon’s eyes fell to those lips, recalling time and time again when those lips were on his body, kissing his neck just right as her hands explored him more. This woman had the face of an angel but the touch of a succubus. As proven by how her hand slipped under the table and rested upon his lap, her fingers brushing up and down the muscle slowly, from the end of his knee all the way up to his waist.

Leon swallowed a bit, trying to keep his face unresponsive to not give anything away to their friends. But he did give her a reaction to her relentless teasing. His hand slid under the table also, his fingers slipping under the dress until they came in contact with her skin and dug his nails in lightly. She fidgeted a little, masking over the light sound made in her throat at this. A smirk tugged his lips at this.

Standing up a little, [Name] pardoned herself to the bathroom. Not ten seconds later, Leon's phone vibrated, the screen glowing with a text message.

'Baby: Bathroom. Now.' A smile tugged his lips before he got up, and walked towards the bathrooms. He slipped through the crowd, his eyes searching for the bathrooms, a teasing warmth in his lower gut. This was her fault, of course. Her teasing throughout the night, riling him up and leaving him wanting her more than before. She had that magic touch that could make a man come undone.

As he passed by a door, a hand shot out and pulled him in quickly before he was pushed up against the now closed door, soft lips pressed against his in a needy hunger. He didn’t even hesitate to kiss back, returning with equal hunger as his hands found their place on her waist, squeezing the soft muscles.

“Someone’s excited~” [Name] purred, her hand brushing along his clothed cock, lightly stroking it to earn a low moan from the man. That devilish glint in her eyes, a carnal desire that burned through Leon. A predator finally sinking her teeth into her prey. And for her, he would happily allow her.

“And who’s fault is that?” His lips returned to hers, his hands roaming her body over that damn dress, slipping under the hem of it before crawling up her thighs, his nails digging into the soft flesh. Sadly, they only had a few minutes before anyone would get suspicious, but when they would get home, he would devour her completely until she couldn’t think straight.

Her fingers looped in his belt, unravelling it and sliding his pants down just above his knees. Another moan slipping from him as her fingers brushed along his hard cock again, savouring the look of delight on his face before she lowered down to her knees. His fingers finding their way in her hair, gripping hold as she lowered his underwear. The chilly air making him shiver a little but it was short-lived as her warm lips came into contact.

“Ahh~” Leon’s head rested back against the door, his deep blue eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he focused on the sensations. Her lips moved along his length, prepping little kisses along his shaft from base to tip, leaving no part untouched. Such gentle touches that shot electric through his body. Those pretty lips. The tip of her tongue slid up along the sides, pulling another moan from his mouth and a light buck of his hips. He didn’t care if anyone heard though it wasn’t likely thanks to the loud, blasting music.

“Ah, that’s it, love~ Ohh, don’t stop~” His words were thick with need, his fingers tightening in her hair. His cock twitched lightly as she took it into his mouth, working her way down slowly. The warmth of her mouth pleasantly inviting, arching his back a bit to push deeper in. Her eyes locked on his, a playful flicker in them to see this man come undone so easily, something she was always proud of. Leon always acted tough and cold around their friends but with her, he was a whimpering mess.

Her tongue moved, running along the underside of his shaft as she took as much as she could, soft moans slipping past as she worked her mouth. His moans and whines more entertaining than the music ever could be, and made even more so when her name came out. Leon moaned it out like a prayer, his hips moving more as she held them in place, he was always eager like this.

“Ah~ Fuck~ A-Ahh~ That’s good~ So good~” His praise only made that burn in her lower gut chew away more and more, he could repay her back later tonight. She would make sure he would. His head was spinning, the alcohol in his system and the rousing pleasure making everything feel warm and fuzzy, so much so that his hand in her hair was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment. He could feel that coil in his gut tightening with each little movement.

“Mmh~ Ah, yes~ You’re so good at this, love~ My good girl~ Always doing her best for me~” His cock twitched more in her mouth, the coiling tightening more before he released with a cry of her name, his body tensing up as his release spilled down her throat. Ecstasy washing over him, leaving a tingling in his veins in place of that rushing electricity, it was comforting almost. Slowly pulling back, [Name] panted lightly, delight painted on her face as she licked her lips and looked up at him, fluttering her eyes with that innocent look again as if nothing happened.

“C’mere.” Leon motioned her up with his finger, his hand grabbing her dress and pressing his lips onto hers in a deep kiss. He could taste the light saltiness of himself on her, as well as her own sweetness. “Let’s get back before they come looking for us.”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 6 #resident evil vendetta

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cdragons · 2 months

Text

"La Vie En Rose" - Ikaris x Eternal!Reader

Summary: You and Ikaris are finally ready to take a big step in your relationship. The two of you hare details about yourselves to really show how much you two have loved one another throughout your entire existence and since the failed Emergence.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, very heavy smut in the beginning, loss of virginity, Persephone!Reader/Sephia is demisexual, spoilers, talk of WW2 and its aftermath, mention of suicide, Druig and Kaety are mentioned, almost character death, author tries to talk about music but has no musical background

Author's Notes: I think this might be the longest Ikaris oneshot ever on Tumblr, with a whopping 9.2k word count. For context, I would go to this masterlist, and read the very first post. I would like to thank Grammarly for making sure I don't write like a hill-billy. A huge thanks to @ethereal-athalia for her help. A lot of these ideas could not have been done without her input. I hope y'all have a wonderful Valentine's Day! I also plan to make a Valentine's Day for Druig x Hecate!Reader

Inside the Ritz’s Suite Chopin in Paris, clothes were sprawled across the room. Your dress had pooled on the ground where Ikaris zipped it off you as soon as the door closed. His suit jacket and tie had been removed before you two entered the room. Despite how frantic your movements may have seemed on the outside, you and your lover knew that this moment had been long overdue.

The blue rings in his eyes thinned as his pupils widened at the sight of your strapless bra with its matching lacy cheeky-cut underwear and garter belt. After you ripped his dress shirt and buttons flew across the room, you marveled at the mass of muscle and heavenly skin by softly revering his body with your touch.

You traced every scar and line on his body as if handling a priceless painting. Ikaris sharply hissed at the feeling of your feather touch ghosting over his body. He responded by lifting you in his arms and wrapping your legs above his hips while he kept a firm grip on your soft, ample bottom. He felt your muscles tense before relaxing, and your body melted into his embrace as if the two of you were bodies were born to be together.

“I love you,” he whispered with each kiss he pressed on your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Ikaris,” you panted, “don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

Trailing kisses down your neck, your lover never took his lips off yours as he carried you across the living room to the boudoir covered with pomegranate flowers. Laying your body gently on the goose feather duvets, Ikaris stood utterly captivated by how your hair framed your face like an ethereal halo.

The sight was nothing short of heavenly.

The luminosity of the moonlight shining through the overhead window gave your form a celestial glow. Your divine figure, added with the contrast of colors from the blossoms on the stark bedspread, made him wonder if this was all a wonderful dream instead of his cruel reality.

Sensing his fear that you were only an illusion, you sat up and took Ikaris’ hand from his side to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Ikaris, I am here. I am with you. We are together – now and forever, forever and always.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, your immortal paramour felt a mountainous burden topple down as the relief of knowing this moment was not a figment of his imagination. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tears welled up in his iridescent blue irises.

Ikaris brought his other hand to cup your other cheek before lowering himself to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes – savoring the feel of your skin on his lips as he tried to memorize the scent of your hair with the fragrance of the pomegranate flowers surrounding you.

“Ikaris,” you softly begged, “please kiss me.”

And who was he to refuse such a sweet request?

Pressing his lips to yours, Ikaris felt you lower yourself until your back was fully pressed against the bedspreads underneath them. No matter how much his lungs clenched for air, he refused to part for even a breath of air. But you softly pushed him back. Ikaris opened his eyes – prepared to ask if you needed to stop. But he stopped himself at the sight of your lust-filled eyes with the blush on the apple of your cheeks. You reached behind your back and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere before removing the rest of your undergarments.

Time slowed down frame by frame as Ikaris watched you further reveal yourself to him. A part of your hair fell forward to cover your breasts as you lowered your head and fixated on your gaze on the silky scarlet petal of the flower you rubbed between your fingers. Scars and marks dotted your body from battles between deviants in the past. Ikaris knew he was the only man you let see so much.

You sighed as you couldn’t help but feel like shrinking into the shadows as he stared.

“I don’t…I know I’m not as pretty as most of the women you’ve slept with. My body is a bit…, and I’m not as willowy and lovely as Kaety or Sersi. Even Thena is so beautiful and strong. My hips have a weird dip and –” You felt like crying for ruining the moment. “I’m making this so awkward – I’m so sorry.”

Ikaris quietly sat across you for a moment. Then he tipped your chin, and you were forced to look at his stern expression but heated gaze.

“Sephia, your body…it’s lovely. There isn’t a woman or creature more beautiful than you.”

You scoffed inelegantly, but Ikaris shook his head.

“I’m serious. Sephia, I – everything about you is so mind-bogglingly wonderous and beautiful. I have thought so since we first met on the Domo. Who could possibly have given you the idea otherwise?”

You leaned into his chest and let out a deep sigh. “It was no one in particular. I just noticed that men continually gawked at my chest whenever we settled into a new location. They would always stare when I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, when they were drunk, they would tug on my dress and comment that I was either too big or too small. It’s why I preferred to wear their clothing. I thought I attracted too much attention from my Olympian Attire, so I hoped to be noticed less in their garbs. I tried telling Ajak, but she told me not to pay attention to their actions since they were only curious. But it didn’t stop until I told Kaety.”

Hearing your explanation, Ikaris’ hold on you tightened. Once more, he was in your friend’s debt. How dare those lowly men cause you so much strife? Had he known of your troubles, he would have ensured that those fools feared for their lives. But he knew if you were aware of his thoughts, it would only push you away – so he remained quiet.

Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on both of your cheeks and whispered to you how honored he was for this moment. His hands caressed your thighs, and he had your legs straddled on his hips as he made sure you were comfortable on his lap. He let you take the lead by wrapping your arms over his shoulders and groaned at the feeling of you pressing his chest against your bare bust.

The way he moaned your name made your stomach clench. “Sephia. Thank you. I will show you how beautiful to me– tonight and every night from now on if you’ll permit me.”

You nodded your head against the crook of his neck. You didn’t trust your voice to convey your love for the man with you tonight.

But Ikaris needed more. “Say it, Sephia. Look me in the eye and tell me if you want us to continue.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to show your trust. “I want you to continue.”

Bringing you in for a heated kiss, Ikaris and you explored each other’s bodies with your hands as your lips were locked in a familiar embrace. He then trails kisses down your chin and travels down your neck and across the tops of your breasts. You wondered if he could hear how hard your heart was beating against the confines of your rib cage as you panted for air.

Ikaris used one hand to cup one of your flushed breasts covered in love bites and kisses. On the other, he put his mouth on your puckered nipple and swirled his tongue around the areola.

You slowly rocked your hips and whispered for more. “Ikaris, Ikaris, Ikaris – more, more, please.”

Your body was his paradise, and you were his angel. Everything about you – the perfume of your skin, the silky luster of your hair, the addictive scent of your arousal – it was both all too much and never enough.

Switching breasts to continue his services, Ikaris wondered if he could get you to cum without directly touching you down there. He felt emboldened by the challenge with the breathless praises spilling from your lips that were swollen and red from his kisses.

He traveled down to your navel while continuing to trace his tongue and lips across your skin until he stopped at your navel. Dipping his tongue into your navel region, your initial reaction was a giggle, but then he used both of his hands to reach for your abandoned mounds to massage them. The rough calluses on his fingers gave way to new sensations unbeknownst to you, making your laughter change to moans.

Arching your back, you called out his name with your sweet voice. “Ikaris- Ikaris! It’s too…it’s too much!”

As you arched your back, you pushed your chest further into his hands. He tendered cupped them before giving them a hard squeeze and then used his fingers to pinch your nipples. Twisting and tugging them brought tears to your eyes as the pleasure from the attention he granted to your bosom with the swirling of his tongue in your navel.

The feel of Ikaris’ hot tongue contrasting with the cooling spit from his saliva only added to your rapture. You felt your stomach tighten into an invisible coil as you clawed and grasped onto the bed covers to ground you. The coil became tighter and tighter until your lips started to tremble as your core clenched around nothing, and your mouth opened to let out no noise as your vision went white. Your body squirmed, and you clamped your legs to unsuccessfully quell the sensations.

Ikaris’ mouth traveled down to your nether lips as he removed his hands from your breasts to spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. Although the sight of the Eternals’ strongest fighter between your legs was certainly an arousing view, you couldn't contain snorting at the absurdity of it all.

Your cerulean-eyed beloved raised a quizzical brow to showcase his offended feelings.

“And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing right now, flower?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“I’m sorry-” you couldn’t stop laughing “-I’m so sorry – I just never imagined being in this situation with you – with anyone.”

He gave you a flat look for you to continue.

You went on with your explanation. “For so long, I have never felt this way. You- you aren’t the first person I’ve been with – romantically, at least – but I could never feel myself wanting to go further. It always felt like something was stopping me. For so long, I thought something was wrong with me. And then, after talking with Kaety and Phastos, I thought I might be asexual. But it hadn’t been until those moments we spent in the field outside the village that I- I felt a bond transform from friendship to what I didn’t realize to be love to- to this.”

You stopped laughing and lifted your torso on one elbow to reach him. You cupped his face with one hand, and Ikaris nuzzled his face into your palm – welcoming the feel of your silky touch. In your eyes, there was enough love to make the world outside this room disappear.

“I haven’t felt this way for anyone but you. It was such an unexpected surprise, but I wasn’t scared. I think it was because- well, despite everything, I never felt unsafe around you. Ikaris, the years I spent with you after Thanos’ Snap and before the Emergence were some of the happiest years of my life. I don’t think there are words to describe how much I love you.”

It was only when you stroked your thumb on his cheek that Ikaris realized he was crying. As Ajak’s most trusted and loyal soldier, he had an image of stability to maintain. Before his suicide attempt in flying to the sun, he could count the number of times he cried throughout his life on one hand.

The first was when a deviant managed almost to sever his spine. The pain was so terrible. It took the efforts of Ajak and Kaetlyn to stop him from bleeding out and close the gash, but not without a garish scar across his back.

The second was when you left him and what remained of the team after Kaetlyn and Druig left in response to the genocide of Tenochtitlan citizens from Spanish conquistadors. He was hurt and felt betrayed. He called you weak and naïve to believe that you, Kaet, and Druig had better judgment than Arishem for humanity’s future. While your leaving broke his heart, his sobbing resulted from the pained look on your face from his words. He cried for three days after your departure.

The third time was after he killed Ajak. It broke his heart to kill the one he admired and followed for so long. She wanted to stop the Emergence and stop Arishem’s Grand Design of the birth of a new Celestial. But to do so was to condemn you to a slow and painful death, and Ajak knew that. The Avengers destroyed your regained health when they brought back the rest of humanity.

Ikaris knew that destroying the planet you loved so much would have brought you more pain than your illness, but it was humanity that weakened you so much from the beginning. If the Emergence must occur, Ikaris was sure he could ask Ajak to convince Arishem to allow him to keep his memories. If he had, he would have been able to love you from the beginning of everyone’s rebirth.

But he failed, and it nearly cost him you and your sister. The memory Druig implanted in his mind would haunt him forever. It was so unnatural to see Kaety so lifeless, so cold. The sight and Aisling’s screams with Laoise’s cries made it worse.

The fourth was when he stood before Sersi as her frame kneeled atop Tiamut’s emerging body. You lay unconscious as you allowed your new leader to use your cosmic energy to kill the infant Celestial but also to use your body as a medium to use the Celestial’s infinite amount of cosmic energy to revitalize the Earth. Standing in front of his sister as she kneeled next to your body, Sersi was ready to accept her death at her brother’s hand. But Ikaris could not steel his resolve to aim his heat vision at her heart.

He could not kill his sister – not when she was the one person he could ever love as much as he does you. She was the only person who trusted more than anyone in the world. She knew all his secrets and was the first to realize his love for you.

Just as Kaetlyn was your sister, Sersi was his. And so all he could do was let himself be used to destroy Tiamut, give one final goodbye to his sister, and give you one final kiss before he flew to the sun.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Ikaris? Are you all right?”

“Yes, flower,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“‘Thank you?’ Whatever for?” Your confused expression was so utterly adorable.

“Everything, I suppose,” he said while shrugging. “Sephia, you said you never imagined making love to anyone for thousands of years. But for me, it was all I could think about with you. As I said that night on the balcony, ‘I was made to love you.’ And I will say these words and show you how much I mean them for however long you permit me.”

Your heart sang out to his at his sweet words. You reached to pull him down for a kiss before whispering in his ear.

“Ikaris, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” came his immediate answer. “But first, I must prepare you.”

“Has that not been what you’ve been doing so far?”

Your immortal worshiper gave you a lascivious grin in response. “My petal, this had only been the beginning.”

Your hands clenched his hair in a feeble attempt to get him to ease Ikaris’ feasting. But all your actions brought were him spreading your legs further apart. The feeling of his tongue flitting over your clit as he drove fingers to furiously thrust inside your cervix to the point of making you weep in ecstasy.

It started with one, then it became two. Soon, he added the third, and the pain from the stretch quickly drove you to a state of nymphomania. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, and it was far more intense than its predecessor. You felt your body spasm for a little bit before relaxing into the mattress as Ikaris languidly stroked your walls to carry out your climax for as long as possible.

This wasn’t the first time he had eaten you out, but it was the first time he could do so without interruptions.

As your essence spilled on his tongue, Ikaris let out an obtusely loud, close-mouthed groan, and its vibrations added to your overstimulation. Your body’s nectar was ambrosia worthy to be tasted only by gods. It was addictive enough for an Eternal such as himself to get drunk on it and crave its taste for all eternity.

He removed himself from the bed before frantically unbuckling his belt and stripping himself of his black slacks and boxer briefs. The way his shaft sprung out and its head hit Ikaris’ naval region made your eyes widen. It must have been around eight inches long, and the sight of it made you unconsciously clamp your legs close. It was pulsing dark pink with veins running along its length, and its head looked so swollen and red that it neared to purplish hue with a pearly white bead of precum leaking out.

You’ve seen corpses and anatomical diagrams. Kaety was the more explicit one out of the two of you. She had no qualms sharing even the most graphic details of Druig’s…thing.

But this was the first time you saw it in person, and you didn’t realize men could be so…big.

“Does it hurt…being like that?” you hesitantly asked as you reached forward to touch it. But he softly grasped your hand from getting too close.

Ikaris chuckled at your innocence. “It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is very sensitive. And if you touch it, I cannot promise you that I will last long enough to enjoy it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he carefully grabbed his length and positioned it just outside your soaking womanhood.

He cupped your cheek and brought your eyes to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Don’t think about me. Do you want this?”

Looking into his eyes, you drowned in the overwhelming sea of love that was his beautiful blue eyes. You admit you still felt a twinge of fear. But more than fear, more than lust and desire, you felt safe. What you shared with Ikaris was more than how you ever hoped to feel with someone. It was real – what you shared with this man was true and went beyond physical attraction. Your bond with him had only grown stronger since his return; nothing would ever change that.

“I’m ready,” you whispered as you felt the increasing rate of your heartbeat. “I love you, Ikaris. With all of me.”

He positioned his cock until its head had just entered you. You sharply sucked in a breath.

“I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Take a deep breath if you need to. I won’t move until you feel like you’ve adjusted to it. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I promise.”

“I know,” you replied. “I trust you.”

He gently pushed himself inside you inch-by-inch. The stretch of your walls around his manhood was almost painful. He was halfway inside you when you asked him to pause with two thin trails of tears running down your eyes.

“I just -” you gasped, “- I just need a minute.”

Ikaris softly stroked your cheek before catching a tear under your eye. “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

When you nodded to show you were ready, Ikaris continued to insert himself inside you until he fully bottomed out slowly. When he reached his hilt, he let out a mighty groan and husky rasp as you took a sharp and loud intake of breath. Despite how well-lubricated you were, the stretching of your cervix to accommodate his size was more than you expected. Thankfully, your lover did not move for the sake of you being able to adjust to the feel of him inside your tight walls.

Ikaris propped himself on one of his elbows as he hovered above you. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his moans, but the feeling of him being swallowed by your warmth was more euphoric than he could ever dream it to be. He lowered his head enough to kiss away the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so sweetly. “This discomfort will pass, my love. I will not move until you are ready.”

Thank the stars he prepped you earlier. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have been able to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It was the strangest sensation. You felt so full – as evidenced by the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach – but the fullness was almost comforting.

It was evidence that you and your love joined bodies and became one.

You slowly wrapped your legs around Ikaris’ waist. Despite the discomfort, you wanted to feel as close and connected to the beautiful man hovering above you as possible. Soon, the pain lessened to a sting, and it dulled further before shifting to pleasure. It was not long before you craved the friction from Ikaris’ shaft moving inside you and slowly began grinding your hips against him to ease the ache inside you.

Ikaris could feel the fluttering of your cervix and your walls becoming more slick from your increasing arousal. Feeling your hips moving against him, he couldn’t stop the teasing leer at your squirming and the soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good? I wonder how it would feel if I did this–” he pushed his hips to give a shallow thrust and reveled at the way your back was so beautifully arched.

Your cries were no longer laced with pain but adorned with shock from the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” he chuckled in smug amusement. “Fuck, your body is so responsive. You have no idea how much your sweet cries add to my ego.”

“I-Ikaris!” you stammered as you frantically moved your hips. “Please!”

“Please what, my flower?” he teased. “You know I can’t do anything until you provide explicit instructions.”

You wailed in frustration. “You know what I mean, you cruel man! I-I need you to m-move! I want to feel everything! PLEASE!”

Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Ikaris gave you precisely what you wanted by giving hard, powerful drives. The squelch of your folds from each thrust was downright sinful and caused you to cry out his name. The slapping of his hips against your thighs, coupled with his gruff grunts and your high-pitched mewls, made for the most erotic symphony.

You felt so embarrassed by your reactions, but there was no use in holding back your reactions. You put your arm over your eyes to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ikaris pinned it down to the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see if your lover was as out of control as you.

You were shocked to see how nearly black his eyes were, with almost no evidence of his lapis-lazuli irises. His lips had a thin, wet sheen of film covering them, and his hair was wholly tousled and unkempt from his usual militant style – a result of you running your fingers through it and yanking it.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cover your face,” he rasped. “I’ve waited for this moment for seven thousand years. All those years of watching those men stare at you with lustful eyes – every soldier, king, even fucking Thor. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it – what right did I have to do so? But tonight- tonight, I ensure that you will never want anyone else but me.”

You shook your head. “No…only you- I only want you, Ikaris. I swear!”

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “You feel so perfect – gripping me so tight. Do you feel as good as I do, my flower? Can you feel how I was made for you? As you were made for me? Can you feel how greedy your cunt is for me – I fit so perfectly inside you.”

The euphoria between you two reached such a crescendo that your bodies were frantically rocking against each other at an erratic tempo. You reached forward to cling onto his shoulders as you brought him in a close embrace. The only thing that mattered to you was the man above you and the love overflowing between you. The only thing that mattered to Ikaris was the feeling of you under him and knowing this wasn’t a dream.

The rest of the world disappeared, and the noise from the festivities of the City of Lights became white noise. The only sounds you could register in your lust-hazy mind were Ikaris’ hoarse groans and hushed gasps. The only sounds Ikaris could hear while in his bliss-intoxicated state were your breathless whimpers and sharp cries.

The two of you looked less like the gods humanity regaled in myths and legends and more akin to wild beasts. The sight of your legs tightly wrapped around Ikaris’ waist and the vulgar rings of the slapping of skin from him pounding into you was sinful. The feel of your full and soft breasts rubbing against his hard pecs only heightened the pleasure.

The familiar coil in your stomach returned, and its intensity was reaching a point of almost unbearable pleasure. All you could do was continue to cling to your lover with your nails dragging down his back as he continued to slam into you. Ikaris cursed under his breath at the feeling of your nails scraping long red marks on the skin of his back. He felt your walls start to tighten to show that you were reaching your peak. He increased his tempo to a relentless pace as he felt your walls continue to grip him.

With his newfound vigor, you became all the more aware of how he dragged each and every inch of his cock in and out of you. Your cunt wept at the way his new pace made you stretch even wider to accommodate for all of him. His rough patch of curls around the base of his cock hitting your swollen clit made your mind go blank.

“Ikaris!” you wailed. “Slow – slow down! I think – I think I’m going to – oh, FUCK!”

“Let go, Sephia,” Ikaris grunted. “I want to feel your cunt gripping my cock. I want to feel your walls creaming around me as your womb begs for my cum to fill so much that it leaks.”

Refusing to part from you, he snaked his arm to the space between your legs to press your swollen clit. The pressure from his fingers pinching your nub broke the dam inside you as your juices sprayed and soaked Ikaris’ manhood and naval region. Your back arched, and your legs trembled while the rest of your body pathetically spasmed from the intensity of your release. Your vision went white, and your mind was filled with blissful static as drool dribbled out of your mouth, hanging open at the sheer shock from the release of pressure.

When you came around him, Ikaris gripped the sheets so hard that he heard a faint rip as he felt a mass of textiles clump in his hand. If the fluttering of your cunt was heavenly, then the feeling of your walls clenching so hard around him as you sprayed your essence around him was euphoria. Using both hands, he unhooked your legs around his waist and spread them wide apart until your feet dangled by his head. The new position allowed him to reach so deep in you that he felt the tip of his shaft hitting the entrance of your womb.

He chased the end of his release as you senselessly babbled – your mind was too far gone from your climax, and all you could do was take all of him until he was done himself. It was not long until he felt his body tense, and he thrust himself into you to the hilt and came with a thunderous shout that echoed with your loud cries. The shift of all his weight ramming into the warm and wet hole that greedily latched onto him brought you a new sensation so pleasurable that it rocked on the edge of pain. The spilling of his hot seed inside your womb made you further cling onto him as tears streamed down your cheeks – as if melding your bodies into one being.

Ikaris completely let go of all of his tensions as he lay on top of you – panting for air. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. For a few minutes, the two of you only wanted to bask in the feel of you together in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

Not wanting to crush you with his weight, Ikaris gently tried to pry himself off you. He thought it would be best to grab a wet rag to help clean you or at least give you some water, but you refused to let go.

“I like feeling you inside me,” you whispered, your voice was a bit hoarse from your screams and cries.

His voice sounded more gruff than usual as he chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you’re prepared for another round. And by the looks of it, I think you’ve had enough for one night – especially for your first time.”

Ikaris stroked your cheek as he smiled at the sight of you. Your hair was tousled, and your skin was flushed to a lovely hue. There was not a patch of your neck that was not completely littered with red splotches from his bites and kisses. Your eyes were wet from the tears that streamed down your cheeks, and there was a small trail of drool from your mouth.

You were the very image of erotic perfection – only to ever be seen by him.

“…Was it good?” he hesitantly asked. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…at peace,” you replied after a few moments of thinking. “I don’t really feel any different from before. I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again. But I just feel…content- and happy. Does that make sense?”

You felt your love’s feather-soft lips press against your hairline. “Yes, it does. But are you sure you don’t want to clean yourself? I know your thighs will feel…sticky in the morning if we don’t wipe it off.”

You shook your head. “No, I just want you here with me.”

“At least let me get you a glass of water,” he reasoned. “Believe me when I say you’ll be grateful for it in the morning.”

“Fine,” you relented with a pout. “Hurry back.”

He lowly chuckled as he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your temple.

When Ikaris returned with your water, he found you bundled under a cocoon of the bed’s sheets and covers. Shaking his head in amusement, he placed the glass on the nightstand on your side of the mattress. He carefully lifted the covers, not to wake you from your well-deserved slumber, and crawled under them before gently shifting your body in his arms.

As Ikaris closed his eyes and felt the beckoning lull of slumber reach him, he swore he could hear the tune of a trumpet blowing as a rich timber voice sang a familiar song that held a special place in his heart.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

With a peaceful smile on his face, Ikaris dreamt of a dear memory. It happened in Paris only over seventy years ago. He recalls the day he first heard the phrase ‘rose-colored glasses’ as if it were only yesterday. Unbeknownst to him, you were playing the same memory in your sleep.

Paris in February 1948 was a less-than-ideal time. The weather was dismal, and the air was filled with smog and cigarette smoke. The snow surrounding him more resembled ash blown from a forest fire than frozen ice particles falling from the heavens. People were still hurting from the losses they suffered in the war. The industry was ruined, food was severely rationed, and housing was in short supply. The once luminescent City of Lights and her people were living in misery.

But Ikaris’ longing to see you was greater than his misery.

You had been visiting the graves of soldiers and victims across France every February since the signing of the Paris Peace Treaties in 1947. While there were thousands of unmarked graves, you knew the names of each fallen soldier and nameless body. The Earth whispered each person's tale as their blood spilled to the ground. You would breathe their name to a single red poppy before laying the bloom on the ground. It was too little while also being too late, but you wanted to show your thanks.

Your heart ached at the thought of anyone crossing over without someone remembering them. You walked these hallowed grounds because these brave men and women had fought for that privilege. You walked to honor and thank them.

It was what Kaety and Phastos would have wanted. It was what James would have wanted.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air, you did not need to look to know who had joined you.

“Hello, Ikaris,” you greeted your friend while still kneeling on the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied. “Is that not what friends do?”

You bitterly laughed under your breath. You finally stood from the ground to face your old “friend.” It hurt to see how beautiful he remained despite how he impassively stared at you – as if you meant nothing to him.

“Are we still friends?” you asked. “After everything?”

If your questions hurt him, Ikaris had not let it be shown. But he at least had the decency to soften his tone and look down at his feet, slightly admonished.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he answered. He looked up to face you once more. “Sephia, I…I missed you.”

A new wave of tears threatened to spill as you scoffed at his words.

“Cruel man,” you inwardly wept. “Cruel, cruel man.”

“Forgive me for my reaction,” you scornfully replied. “But I find that a bit hard to believe, considering how we left things between us last time.”

The last time you had seen Ikaris was over fifty years ago when he visited you in the small open field outside Kaety and Druig’s commune. It was your usual meeting place for the past two centuries. It was close enough to the village that Kaety still felt your presence but far enough to ensure your meeting remained private.

The first time he came, you were so happy to see Ikaris. You were terrified at the idea of him forever hating you for joining Kaety and Druig in seclusion. He had criticized you for going against Arishmen’s orders. He told you it mattered little of what you and Kaety did – humanity was doomed to fail.

The last you heard from Kingo was that Ikaris had disappeared from Earth. No one had seen him since Ajak sent all of you away – not even Sersi or Sprite.

His reaching out to you over everyone else meant so much to you. Perhaps it was selfish, but it made you happy to know your talks and meetings with Ikaris were done without anyone’s knowledge. Not even Kaety knew of his presence. You two would talk about the world that was changing around them while reminiscing about the world that had passed.

With each talk, you felt your bond with your friend strengthen. With each meeting, your attachment to Ikaris became more profound as you often craved to see him just hours after he left. Your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer contain them. It felt like you had laid your entire heart on the line.

“Would you stay here?” you softly asked. “Would you stay here with me?”

And then he left, leaving you in the field by yourself.

“Did you hate the idea–” you hastily inhaled to stop your voice from breaking “– of staying here so much? Could you really have not found any joy in what I do here for those people?”

Ikaris reached out to hold you in his arms.

“No,” he whispered in your hair. “No, Flower, that’s not it. I swear… I swear that’s not it.”

He should not have come. If he were a better man, he would have let you hate him until you could forget him. But he knew you were alone, and his selfishness won out in the end.

“Then why?” you cried. His shirt muffled your words, but your voice broke his heart. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you come back? Every year, I waited in that field! Because I thought our friendship meant something to you! But you never came!”

“Sephia,” he explained, “I could have never been who you needed me to be for those villagers. I have nothing to offer them but my combat skills.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Everything you told me that night – you were right. It doesn’t matter what any of us do. Humans will destroy everything themselves. Just look where we are now.”

You and he looked at the thousands of white crosses that stood from the ground. You still had nightmares about the bodies surrounding you as hundreds of soldiers entered your tents – only to pass away from their fatal injuries. So many graves without names were men and women you treated before you had to bury them.

Kaety still woke up every night screaming at the horrors and abuse of the victims of Unit 731. What remained of the records of Ishii Shiro and his use of anthrax and the plague as biological warfare would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her thrashing had almost gotten to the point where she ordered Druig to sedate her if she ever accidentally hurt herself or him.

Phastos was practically left in a continuous catatonic state after leaving the site of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But during the times he came back, he could only weep out apologies to the millions of victims for his interference with humanity’s technology from the beginning.

“Was everything we thought we were building for nothing?” you asked. “Was this planet and its people doomed from the start?”

Ikaris only stood silently. He wondered if he was more cruel not to tell you the truth of Arishem’s grand plan after Ajak told him so long ago. But he wanted to see your smile for however long he had left. You were so proud of your creations, and rightfully so. Not knowing what else to do, he figured to let his actions speak more than his words.

“Can I show you something?”

He took you in his arms when you nodded. He lifted the two of you to a dark alley in Paris next to the Seine. The lights surrounding them with the people walking along the river bank made the night cold winter night less cold and desolate than the hopelessness you felt in your heart.

It was a pretty sight, but the view couldn’t have been the only reason why Ikaris brought you here.

“Look around you.” He spread his arms to emphasize his point. “What do you see?”

“…Litter and pollution?”

“Besides that.”

You tried to look harder. “Ummmm…people?”

“Exactly, people who are alive. A florist who sells flowers in the spring to young lovers because she wants to share the fruits of your labor with the world. Families who tour the Gardens of Versailles because they want to bask in the splendor.”

You understood Ikaris’ point. You were the one who tried to explain it all to him for so long, but everything seemed so hopeless now.

“Sephia,” he spoke your name to break you from your thoughts. “What you brought into this world was not for nothing. It never was. You are why people can find beauty and joy in the simplest pleasures.”

You wanted to say something – anything. But words failed to come to you. They always had during the most important events. Suddenly, you heard the melody of one of France’s favorite songs creep into your ear. You felt your Ikaris softly grasp your hand as he gently led the two of you to the direction of the melody.

It was a mixed jazz band playing in the middle of a packed Place Vendôme. They were playing La Vie En Rose.

The symphony of clarinets and flutes made for a beautiful melody. The saxophone altos, French horn, and trombone gave the song a homophonic texture. But the real star of the ensemble was the trumpet. It added a sense of joy and lightheartedness that so deeply contrasted the past decade.

“A favorite demon of yours told me this song was all the rage in France a few ago,” he quipped. “Care to show me why?”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need to stop calling Kaety that. She’ll bite your head off for being unable to think of a new nickname after seven thousand years.”

Ikaris took a few steps forward before turning to you and held out his hand. You only stared at it before realizing the meaning of his gesture. You stared at his face with wide eyes and a gaped mouth to represent your shock.

“You,” you choked out, “want to dance? In the middle of the square?”

Ikaris only shrugged. “Why not?”

“But…but, there’s just – there’s so many people around!” you stammered.

“That’s never stopped you before in Reykjanesskagi.”

“That was during the Maiden’s Day festival!”

“You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings with how long you’ve kept my arm like this.”

You huffed out a breath in annoyance before you reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. Ikaris must have known that you wouldn’t refuse a dance, especially a dance to one of your favorite songs. You hated bringing attention to yourself, but you loved to dance. You didn’t know what it was – but you could always lose yourself in the notes as your body moved in tandem with the tune. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in any city where the Eternals were stationed, you and Kaety would disguise yourselves as peasants or low-born nobility to fade into the background. So often, you would lose yourself in joy that you would accidentally make flowers bloom around you, even in the harshest winters.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Ikaris pulled you close to his chest. One hand was placed on the small of your back while one of your hands clutched on his shoulder. But the other was firmly clasped in his other hand. Before you began, you saw a few other pairs sway to the band. It eased your nerves to know that you and he were the only pair dancing in the historical square.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Everyone around you seemed to be dancing in slow, expressive, rhythmic steps, resembling an American-style bolero. Given the time and place, it was only natural that Ikaris took the lead. You were prepared to offer instructions, but he surprised you again by showing how comfortable he was in the role and steps.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you remarked.

Ikaris looked slightly embarrassed as his cheeks reddened. “Sersi taught me. She basically threatened to castrate me if I refused to dance at a speakeasy we frequented in New York in the 20s.”

“Sersi?” you snorted out as he spun and dipped you. “Sersi threatened you? Our Sersi? Lying is a very unbecoming quality, Ikaris. I didn’t think you’d be one to develop it.”

“Oh, if only I could make up such a tale,” replied Ikaris as he grabbed your waist before lifting you without struggle. “Sersi’s can be downright terrifying if she wants to be. Ask Kingo – he’s the only other person who’s seen her like that.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of your throat. And as the band continued to play, you and Ikaris swayed, dipped, and spun for hours. Over three hours had passed by the time the band was finished for the night. When you stopped, all you could do was stare into your friend’s eyes in a rose-hued haze before a thunderous round of applause broke you out of your dreamlike state and into reality. A sizable crowd had surrounded the two of you – hoots, hollers, and whistles accompanied the applause. Your impromptu performance enchanted men, women, children, and even pets.

“Bisou!” called out from a random face in the crowd. It wasn’t long before the call became a chant.

“Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou!”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, you cupped your Ikaris’ face and kissed his cheek softly. The following whistles and cheers would have made you wish to disappear – had it not been for the sweet peck Ikaris placed between the furrow of your brow.

All of a sudden- without even knowing it at the time- the world seemed brighter, and the air started to smell like roses.

Ikaris woke up to the feeling of gentle poking on his cheek. Hearing the swallows sing and feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. He turned his body in your direction before opening his eyes. He was immediately blessed with your bright eyes and sweet smile. Raking his eyes down your body, it looked like you wore his dress shirt from last night.

He adored the way it draped over your curves – especially with how it showed off your legs.

“Are you ready for your Valentine’s Day present?” you asked with poorly contained excitement. Judging by how your smile went ear-to-ear, you practically bounced out of your skin.

Ikaris furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Was last night not my present?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would sex be your present? I thought I made it pretty clear that I hadn’t expected the night to turn in that direction.”

“Well then,” he chucked in amusement over your flushed cheeks and pout, “what is my present?”

Your eyes shone in delight as you lightly kicked your feet against the mattress. “You’ll have to get out of bed for that! Come on!”

You dashed into the next room while Ikaris wrapped the sheets around him before locating his briefs and grabbing a pair of gray sweatpants in his luggage. Once putting them on, he stretched out his back and arms from behind the balcony window before opening it and letting in some air to freshen the room.

When he crossed to the piano room, he was mildly surprised when he saw you seated at the pianoforte. You pressed the keys to carefully listen if the instrument needed any additional tuning. Satisfied that the pitch wasn’t flat, you turned to Ikaris, who was leaning under the doorway.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

You positioned your fingers over the right keys while straightening your posture. Clearing your throat, you began to play at Adagio. Your body swayed to the melody as if you had become one with the instrument. Every key you lovingly caressed let out a note sounding so beautifully as if the music came alive just for you. You closed your eyes before you began singing.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Ikaris’ eyes widened. Were you playing…had you –

But his thoughts were interrupted as your rich singing broke through his stupor. Your sweet voice was soaked in honey and laced with the roses from the song.

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause

For a moment, Ikaris truly hated that his French wasn’t as proficient as yours. Had it been, he would have been able to appreciate your singing that rivaled the voice of angels properly. Was it possible for one to sound as rich and effortlessly fluid as sweet syrup?

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat

Your fingers lightly danced along the keys to give your voice a brief intermission. And for a few moments, it felt like Ikaris’ soul had returned to his body. And although he expected you to stop, you began to sing the English translation.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Whereas the original French version required a slower and softer pace to grasp the ballad's meaning and beauty, the English version required a slightly quicker tempo. It brought a more joyful mood and tone compared to the lovely but melancholic French version.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

When you finished, Ikaris was once more completely and utterly entranced. You turned to face him with hopeful eyes. You long memorized this song since that night in Paris over seventy years ago. When you began to learn how to play the piano, you did it because you never wanted to forget the ballad’s meaning and how it touched your heart from that night on.

“You once asked me why this song was so popular,” you began to explain. “Édith Piaf wrote ‘La Vie en Rose’ in 1945 and released it as a single in 1947. The song’s popularity quickly reached global success as jazz artists began to sing its covers. Louis Armstrong played it on March 2, 1948 – at the same Jazz Festival you took me in Salle Pleyel.”

You stood up as you tenderly traced a single black key that released a soft C sharp when you pressed it.

“As you remember, all of Europe was in chaos and misery after the war. Everyone lost someone fighting. So many men and women who returned became shells of themselves. People were starving and homeless from the constant airstrikes. But Édith wrote this song to remind Paris to never lose sight of the happy times and good things in life. You shouldn’t forget the bad times, but you also shouldn’t forget to look at life without seeing the beauty of everything around you.”

You walked towards Ikaris before standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. You laid your cheek against his chest and smiled at his beating heart's steady and strong rhythm.

“That night- when we danced at the Place Verdôme- the song they played was stuck in my head for months. Whenever I felt sad or disheartened, I would put on the record I bought to listen to it. I know you have your doubts about humanity. You always had them, as had I. We were never the ones who loved humankind, especially after the atrocities they had committed. I hated what they did to the Earth, how much they polluted it, but – Oh, Ikaris. I made you cry again.”

Touching his cheek, Ikaris realized that he was indeed crying. That’s twice in less than twelve hours, a new record. Just what in Arishem’s name had you done to him?

He shook his head. “Never mind my tears. Continue.”

“Listening to that song, I finally realized why so many of our family kept faith in humankind. Kaety and Druig have their twins and remain in their village. Phastos and Ben have Jack. Sersi has loved and lost more than any of us, first with Jane, but now she’s with Dane. Kingo lives among them effortlessly and adores them. Even Makkari remains joyful because she keeps looking at life and seeing its beauty.”

You paused for a moment before standing only tip-toes to press a kiss on his nose.

“Ikaris, you don’t care much for humans. But that night, you reminded me why I did what I did in the war. You reminded me that there will always be people who will take comfort in the most simple pleasures- a rose’s bloom, the crisp bite of an apple, or even the sound of a child’s heartbeat. So, for just a few minutes, I wanted to give something to you the way you have for me.”

Words failed to convey the love Ikaris felt for you. All he could do was tightly hold you in his arms and never let go. For the first time since he came back, he felt it was alright to love you. That he wouldn’t pollute or ruin you the way he had done with everything else in his life so many times. Ikaris knew that it was his destiny to love you. But you- you chose him. You chose to love him. And that fact alone was enough to make him die without regrets.

“I hope children have your voice,” he murmured into your hair before facing you with wet eyes. “And I hope that they have your heart.”

He cupped your cheek, and you kissed his palm softly. “Only if they have your eyes and your art skills.”

Ikaris must have heard you sing your rendition of ‘La Vie en Rose’ a million times. You sang and taught it all your children— Laurie, Aggie, and Ari – on the piano or tucking to bed. But that first time he heard you sing it- that morning when the sun pooled into the room as pink roses and red asters suddenly bloomed- that will always be his favorite.

Thank you if you if finished the story! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and make sure to like, comment, and reblog!

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freesia-writes · 7 months

Text

Chapter 30: Costuming

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

LISTEN. I am chopping and rearranging the canon timeline like nobody’s business, but I swear it all works out. ;) If you’d like more of an explanation than what I tried to convey in the story, check the notes at the end of the next chapter. It’ll be well worth it, trust me. ;) Also… I know there are tons of “wait, but what about–” kinds of points to be made with where the story goes, and I was going crazy trying to account for them all, but… just… ssshhh. Just enjoy. LOL!

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“Look at youuuu!” the grizzled old shopkeeper exclaimed, clapping Vel on the back as she faced a dirty old mirror. “It’s like it was made for you, sweetie!” The delight on the woman’s face was so pronounced that Vel couldn’t do anything but stare at her reflection, mouth slightly open in a dumbfounded stare.

“I… ah… Thank you,” she stuttered, barely able to recognize the person looking back at her. She’d never been one for makeup, but everything had escalated quickly out of control today, and she now had dark, accentuated eyebrows, bright green eyeshadow, and peachy pink lips. Her hair had been piled on top of her head, twisting in some elaborate poof that led to a large green flower before spilling down her back. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen so much green in her entire life. On the plus side, it did compliment and contrast with her skin quite well, and it made her smile inside as she remembered Tech noticing that her eye color was not gray, as many assumed, but a dark pale green.

“Oh honey… He is going to have trouble getting his eyes off of you!” the vendor continued, making one last adjustment to the puff sleeves as Vel awkwardly tried to pull the tight shirt back over the frilly bra cups. She’d never seen such a contraption – this “push-up” bra suddenly made her look as though she were significantly more well-endowed than she was, and with the polka-dot shirt tied snugly at the top of her stomach, the hems curved over her now-voluptuous chest and created the illusion that she was positively spilling out of it. Not only that, but the skirt, as twirly and fun as it was, had a huge slit nearly all the way up, which meant that anything more than a small step would reveal the seamed stockings and garter belt underneath. Fortunately, it was high-waisted, and accentuated with adorable gold buttons that held in the parts of her stomach she was less confident about. But other than that, it didn’t leave too much to the imagination. When the woman produced a sharp pair of black high heels to go with it, Vel couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head.

“I don’t think I can walk in those,” she admitted, noting that even the bottom of the soles was the same flashy color as the rest of the outfit.

“That’s what his arm is for,” the woman answered, waving her off as though it were a ridiculous thing to say. “Come on, step in. Wait til you see what these do for your backside!”

After only a few ungainly wobbles, Vel stood up straight again, and the ensemble was complete. She stared at herself in the mirror, puzzled at the conflicting emotions. No matter how many times the shopkeeper reassured her that she was stunning, beautiful, and would have been a complete hit during the era these clothes were popular, there was an odd queasiness in her stomach. She wasn’t one to be “sexy”... the disaster with Jouren Terrik had cemented that. And when she’d gotten fancied up for that, with a dress that covered much more skin, Tech had said she was good bait for the unintelligent male gaze. She was much more comfortable in a mechanic's coveralls or loose-fitting tunics; things she could hide behind rather than being exposed, noticed, and found wanting. Taking a deep breath, she tried to shift her perspective… She was simply playing a role tonight.

(LOOK!! Fanart by @mythical-illustrator that inspired this chapter! And my mental image for Tech's costume)

* * *

The cab stopped in front of 79s, which was every bit as uproarious as Tech had made it out to be. Even more so tonight, apparently, with the contest going on. Tech had come across the advertisement for it while they were grounded on Kamino for a while. Their mission to Anaxes had led them to Skako Minor, where they discovered a clone who had been horrifically modified, imprisoned, and used for the military strategies in his mind. After his rescue, he’d decided to come with the Batch, feeling it to be a better fit than trying to return to his old squad, and they’d been summoned to Kamino for him to receive proper medical treatment and rehabilitation, as well as better-fitting cybernetics.

So while Echo was “being upgraded”, as Tech had put it, the rest of the crew enjoyed some rest. Or tried to. Never ones to be in the same place for long, they began to get restless, each in their own way. Vel was positive that if Wrecker worked out any more, he wouldn’t fit through the Marauder door, and she hadn’t even seen Crosshair for a few days now. Tech was lost in the holonet, at least until he came up with this fantastic idea.

The delegations from Pantora and Alderaan had offered to sponsor a costume contest at 79s, “to raise morale and thank the troops”. That in and of itself wasn’t very attractive, but the considerable monetary prize promised to the winner definitely was. Since Echo was still in bacta and didn’t look as though he’d be done anytime soon, Tech had tried to convince the team to go for it. He was immediately shut down, even by Wrecker, which was a surprise. But the look on his downcast little face had tugged at Vel’s heart so much that she’d agreed to do it with him.

When the day arrived, they’d spent the entire afternoon in various seedy parts of Coruscant, sifting through “treasures” at a variety of shops that featured all sorts of things that people had decided they didn’t want. Many of the items were old and ragged; some were intriguing in their foreign nature, being from other planets and other centuries. Vel could have sworn they’d gone through at least twenty possible costumes, but Tech had something in his mind, and he was determined to win. Maker knows they could use the credits, but Vel was starting to tire of his relentless search for… something.

His triumphant proclamation upon discovering the set of costumes they were now wearing had been music to her ears… until she saw what he was holding up. Her green ensemble had been wrapped around a dusty mannequin that Tech had picked up by the breasts, completely unaware as he was so distracted by his discovery. Along with it came a three-piece brown suit – the jacket and pants were lightly pinstriped, and the vest was a heathered beige color with the same gold buttons that adorned the high waist of Vel’s skirt. The tie and pocket square matched her outfit as well, and the final piece was a funny-shaped hat with a thin swash of fabric running around it.

“Tech…” Vel began, but she was cut off immediately.

“I cannot believe it! If these are authentic, they are truly a piece of lost history!” he exclaimed. Vel had questions, but she knew he was far from done. “If I am not mistaken, these are standard pieces of clothing worn by humans on a planet that is long since gone. Well, not gone, but entirely desolate. Their short-sighted waste management techniques and unsustainable environmental practices led to the planet’s abandonment, but before that… There were quite a few centuries of fascinating history. This style of clothing was worn during and after their second “world war”, which is inaccurately named due to– Never mind. The point is simply that these are genuine artifacts from a time period and civilization that is long gone. Something so unique will easily set us apart and ensure our success in the contest.”

“I don’t think people will know… Or, like…”

“Ahh! Hello, my beautiful clients! I’m so happy you found those!” the shopkeeper had appeared out of nowhere, the delight on her face mirroring Tech’s. “Those have been in my family for generations. A real piece of history! It would warm my heart to know that they are being put to good use and seeing life again.”

“I’m just not sure–”

“We would like to purchase them,” Tech interjected, and Vel covered her face with a hand. He balked upon hearing the price, and after a very thorough and nearly heated period of negotiations, the costumes were theirs, as well as a full makeover for Vel from the shopkeeper, who was apparently an expert on the fashions of other planets.

So as she began her precarious high-heeled walk across the platform toward 79s, Vel had plenty of regrets to mutter under her breath, most of which she had tried to say earlier but had been prevented from completing. A couple of comments from passersby caught her ears, suggesting that perhaps she was the hired entertainment or possibly an “underworld dweller looking to make some money tonight”. She grimaced, walking more stiffly as she scanned the crowd for Tech. The heel of one of her shoes found a crack on the sidewalk, jerking her off balance and sending her toppling to the side with her arms flung out. A pair of strong arms caught her, lifting her back to her feet with a gentle chuckle.

“Easy girl,” a trooper in a pilot’s uniform crooned as she steadied herself, not letting go of her arm and waist even once she was situated. “Looks like you fell into the right arms. Need some help getting around tonight?” His greasy grin and frequent glances at her outrageous cleavage did not give off good vibes, and she furrowed her brow with a snarky retort at the ready.

“That will not be necessary,” came the pert voice she most wanted to hear, and the pilot turned to see Tech standing behind him. His outfit was similar to his casino disguise in the way it stood out like a sore thumb and also made Vel’s heart flutter. The smart brown suit and hat were slightly loose on his frame, but the wing-tipped shoes had miraculously been a perfect fit. The pilot turned back to Vel, who had jerked her arm back with a stubborn expression.

“You’re… uh… with him?” the trooper asked in disbelief.

“Damn right I am,” she snapped, lifting her chin. “And you might want to work on your game.”

“Hey!” he squawked, holding his hands up in surrender, “I just thought you were a…”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Tech said firmly, stepping closer. His extra three inches of height came in handy as he gave the pilot a stern expression, moving past him to take Vel’s hand and wrap it around his arm. “And best wishes in your pursuit of sexual release.”

A laugh burst out of Vel before she could contain it, and the sight of the clone’s face as they disappeared into the crowd of the club was one that would bring her mirth for weeks to come.

“What?” Tech asked, tipping his head toward her with a slight smile.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. “That was brilliant.”

“It was merely a statement of fact,” he returned evenly, although she could swear she saw a glimmer in his eye.

“You didn’t mean it as a jab?” Her tone was laced with suspicion, cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard.

“Hm. Perhaps it functioned in multiple ways,” he observed, eyebrows slightly raised in complete innocence.

“Alright, clever boy,” Vel chuckled, snuggling against his side. She was eternally grateful for his steady frame and gentlemanly arm as the club doors whooshed closed behind them.

reblog artwork by @vimse!

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