#and soft and smart and she told him he was beautiful and loved and pointed out every name and held him the way a mother does. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

courtforshort15 · 1 year

Text

Green is the Color

Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader

Word Count: 7,200

Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.

Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

You're jealous of Karen.

Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.

And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.

They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him.

They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.

"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.

"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."

The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt.

Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.

With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over.

Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby.

Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship.

With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine.

"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"

"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."

He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”

You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”

“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”

Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”

The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”

You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.

The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.

“Then I should definitely–”

Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."

Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”

“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.

You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.

Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.

When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.

He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations.

…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.

In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.

You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.

****************

“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”

Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”

“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.

“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”

You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”

Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”

Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”

“So this…was a while ago?”

Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”

You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”

Ah, Elektra.

The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.

“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.

“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”

You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.

“Are you okay?”

Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”

Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”

You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.

Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”

Perfect.

“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”

Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”

He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”

Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire.

Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.

But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.

You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.

*****************

The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause.

Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.

You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.

He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible.

You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.

It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.

“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.

“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”

She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy

“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”

“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”

But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.

Your heart drops.

Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.

“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”

“I’m not—”

“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.

Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up.

“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”

You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.

The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.

Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor.

You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.

You have to get out of here.

An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister.

Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.

You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.

Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?

Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.

Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?

Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.

You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.

In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.

You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.

A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.

You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.

True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.

“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.

“Did Matt do something?”

“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”

“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.

You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie.

“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.

“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.

Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.

“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch.

Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.

“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more.

You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.

******************

You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.

“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.

“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”

“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”

You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”

“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”

“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”

“Nothing hap–”

“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”

Your jaw snaps shut.

“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”

You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you.

“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”

He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”

“No–”

“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"

You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”

“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”

It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.

Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.

To take up as little space as possible.

The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him.

You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.

“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction.

Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands.

You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.

He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.

Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.

He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”

“With Karen?”

You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing.

“It’s happened more than once?”

“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”

“What do people say?”

You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”

Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”

“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him.

“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”

“Why would you–”

“And then Foggy told me–”

“Foggy?”

“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.”

“But–”

“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”

His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.

“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”

You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”

He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.

"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."

Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."

You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."

You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."

Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”

You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it.

“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”

“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”

He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”

Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”

“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"

"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.

Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"

"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”

“Absol–”

His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #marvel #foggy nelson #karen page #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction

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misguidedasgardian · 8 months

Text

I need to... (1)

1... Get the f*ck out of here

MASTERLIST

Summary: An awful event leads you to rethink of everything

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now)

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). might forget some warnings…

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: This just started like a blurb, and now we are here. AAAHHHH this is going to be soft, romcom sort of thing, but a bit angsty at first…

You knew him like the palm of your hand, and that is how you could pinpoint the exact day something went wrong, were perhaps his affair started, you couldn’t be sure

You wanted to go to Winterfell University, it was far North in the continent, they say it was always winter there, cold, and wild, but you had seen pictures and had been there briefly on vacations with your family and you absolutely loved it, besides, it had a great program on what you wanted to study, you wanted an adventure, you wanted to completely change your surroundings, get out of your comfort zone, fly off the nest.

But Aemond, your loving boyfriend and highschool sweetheart didn’t think so, you didn’t want to break your relationship, besides, Aemond’s family owned an airline, it would be a four hour journey to meet you there. But he insisted it was too far. You believed that on the one hand that a time apart could be good for you, you would miss him more, and therefore your reunions would be way more intense and hotter, but no.

An that time it made sense, you were drawing your future together, so he convinced you to go to Dragonstone University with him. The university of his dreams.

It was completely his environment, the university specialized on what he wanted to study, diplomacy and political sciences, so for him it was a perfect fit.

But not for you

All the alumni were perfect, serious, dressed like they all belonged to old money, just like Aemond, he was like a fish of the same pond, and you? were a fucking Alligator. You felt big, clumsy, unwanted.

There wasn’t a career in design, like the one you wanted to follow, instead, there was plastic arts and photography, even architecture, so, in your first year, you made sure to take a couple of subjects leading in all of those directions.

That was your first mistake.

You should have stayed in architecture, maybe, photography even, but instead, you decided to take a course with Professor Alys Rivers. In a plastic arts class

That was your second

Soon you became some sort of friends

She was tall, beautiful, dark long locks, big green eyes, the woman was stunning, young, just started teaching, and soon she became your mentor

You liked her

She realized you were frustrated, and take special care in you, mentoring you, and keeping you close to her, she told you maybe you would be good at teaching, and maybe she wouldn’t have taken so long in deciding she wanted to teach

She was thirty five years old

But as Aemond was thriving, you were quickly losing yourself

Classes were boring, didn't raise your interest, the people here were strange, you were afraid to say you weren’t making any friends and not for the lack of trying

It got so bad you only went out with Aemond, who was even after a few months, the most popular guy in his class, it was becoming a very unbalanced relationship

You and Aemond had grown up together, you were neighbors with his nephews Jacaerys, Lucerys and joffrey, the first one being your classmate with Aemond

You played together as children, and in eleventh grade he had formerly asked you to date him, to be his girlfriend

Both your families were ecstatic

HIghschool sweethearts, you knew each other forever, you were going to marry and live a perfect life, Aemond wanted to be a diplomat, and you were catching up to be his beautiful, smart, joyful trophy wife.

You didn’t see it that way then

You wanted to follow a design career, he didn’t take you seriously, but encouraged you

The problem is that Winterfell was too far away, so he convinced you to take architecture courses in his university, the best one in the country for what he wanted, the kind of university that grooms the men and women that were going to take over the world one day. It was huge, a big castle from five thousand years ago, the least you could do was enjoy the architecture.

He was the perfect man, the perfect boyfriend, the one your parents would adore, and they did, he was chivalrous, patient, kind, generous…

You introduced him to your favorite teacher hen you ran into each other at the campus’ coffee shop

That was your third mistake, to invite Alys to join you both to take a cup of coffee,

If you only payed attention to the looks they gave each other

“So she is the teacher you have talked to me about”, Aemond said sheepishly, you only hummed as you kept reading a tome about a tyroshi painter who was the first in drawing the human body in all its forms, he was sort of famous, had lived more than a thousand years ago

“Yes, she is so sweet”, you whispered, “she is an artist, but so down to earth you know?”, you said without even thinking, “you can completely see the process behind her works, she is amazing”

Aemond had the luck (or money), to get single in the dorms, so he slept alone, so you could stay with him anytime you’d like, and you really liked it, your roommate was a bit mean.

And suddenly, Aemond has to study… a lot, you didn’t sleep with him anymore, even though your after class activities were as active as ever.

He was concentrating on his classes, (or that is what you thought), so you were going to start and do the same, and you tried, so so hard

But you were failing

You were already started the last month of the semester, and two of your teachers told you unceremoniously, that you were failing

BAD

You barely contained your tears, your lips were quivering and your nose tickled, and you went to the only person who could bring you comfort… one of the two… your professor Alys, whose class you had been getting pure A’s in

You never saw it coming

Her classroom was the last one in one of the towers of the incredible castle, and when you started climbing up the stairs, your stomach sank

It was late, the sun already hiding on the horizon, but you knew she was still in her atelier, and there she was

You could what the moans and whispers before you saw them, your cheeks heated and a sick curiosity made you sneak a peek inside the classroom

Oh how you wish you didn’t

There she was, your thirty five year-old teacher being pounded by your nineteen year old boyfriend

You’d recognize that silver hair anywhere, everywhere

You wanted to throw up

Alys and Aemond, Aemond was fucking Alys

Together

Fucking

Sweating

You just stood there

Your arm moved alone, as you raised your phone and took a picture of them, you could need it for later, but it wasn’t you who made that decision, it certainly wasn’t you

You were crying

You covered your mouth to sob outloud and for them to hear it, and you walked away, it was a miracle you managed to went down those treacherous steps and not smash your head, perhaps you would have preferred it, to smash your head against the stone floors, to turn off your head

the tears stopped, and your feet moved on your own as they took you out of there, you didn’t want anyone to see you, you didn’t want to give this university more of you, not your tears, not more of your efforts, no nothing

You didn’t go to your room, you couldn’t, you know she was going to be there, Maris Baratheon, and you couldn’t face her, not now, not ever.

You needed something else…

So you walked to the only bar near campus, many of your classmates would call it a “slum”, it wasn’t very popular with students, and that’s exactly what you needed.

You sat on a stool on the bar, and waited for the bartender to get to you, didn’t push him, just looked at the

“looks like you need a drink”, you looked to the side to find a young guy, maybe short twenties, dark born hair, green eyes

“Don’t I?”, you mocked, smiling shyly, he was cute. You couldn’t help but notice his Winterfell University Jersey. He offered you a pint, and you took it gladly, you really needed it, “aren’t you a bit far from”, you pointed at his chest where the varsity letters told you where he was from, he only chuckled

“They sent me in a… diplomatic mission”, he said with a mystery tone, and wiggling his eyebrows

“Are you recruiting students to go to the far North?”, you said, and if he said yes, you were going to beg him to take you with him

“Yes”

“Oh”, you seemed truly amused so he offered you his hand

“Ben Tallheart”, he whispered, and you shook his hand, giving him your name. “What do you know about the university anyways?”, he asked, taking a sip of his beer

“I wanted to apply there”, you answered, and he looked at you surprised, “I wanted to take the designer degree”

“Why didn’t you?”, he asked

“I decided to follow my boyfriend here, who I just found out is screwing my plastic arts teacher”, he spitted his beer

“What?”, he asked, not knowing if to laugh or just be horrified

“Yep”, you said, taking a long sip of your own beer

“Uf, that must be tough”, speak of the devil, your phone started ringing, to no surprise, you discovered it was Aemond who was calling you, and fuck it hurt

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this”, you said to him, canceling the call, you just wouldn’t let it ring, you wanted him to realize you had hung up on him. Ben smiled, asking the bartender for two tequila shots

It was to pints later and five tequila shots, that you were laughing your face out, hugging him with one of your arms the shoulders of Ben

“I want to go to Winterfell, fuck this college”

“Yes, fuck it!”, he said, “this college sucks, filled with stuck ups…”

Your phone had ringed so much it vibrated off the table and it was currently missing from your earshot and eye shot

You didn’t want to know either

“You think they’ll take me?”, you asked him with teary eyes

“Of course they will!”, he laughed

“Half semester?”, you asked

“Of course!”

“Let’s fucking do it!”, you cheered, and everyone in the bar cheered with you, “I need to get the fuck outta here”, you said, and Ben laughed wholeheartedly.

The rest of the night was a blur, you knew Ben had walked with you back to campus and accompanied you to the door of your room

“My stuck up roommate is probably in”, you told him, and he nodded

“If you meant what you said”, he said, “and you are truly interested in coming to Winterfell University, here”, he passed you his presentation card, “give me a ring tomorrow”, you only nodded

“Thank you”, you whispered, and he only nodded, and left you.

You entered your room and there she was, your roommate, putting innumerable creams in her face

“Eh, where have you been?”, oh that tone

“What?”, you asked, already coming down from your binge, “what do you care?”

“Ugh, you’re drunk!?”

“A little”, you grumbled, dropping to your bed

“Iu”, she whined, “Aemond was here you know, looking for you”, she told you, “you truly don’t deserve him, he was so concerned”

Oh poor Aemond, he couldn’t find you after he was fucking your plastic arts teacher, i bet that filthy motherfucker didn’t even shower before he came looking for you

“I bet”, you whispered, you then remembered you couldn’t find your phone, probably was still on the floor of that bar… Shit you were going to need it if you truly planned on contacting Ben for that transfer.

But tonight you couldn’t do anything because you were practically kicked out of that bar, it had to be tomorrow, so, to the horror of your roommate, you just dozed off, dressed in the same clothes, reeking of bar and secondhand smoke.

The next morning you woke up and thankfully, you were alone, your head hurt, but not as much as your heart.

Gods it hurt

You had burned the image of Aemond and Alys, fucking on top of her desk, and you couldn’t believe it. Aemond, your Aemond.

Your nose started to tickle, knowing you were about to cry you stood up, and searched for a change of clothes, you took your towel, and went straight for the bathroom, to wash your night off of your hair.

That morning you had classes with profes-… with that bitch Alys, so you didn’t even bother showing up. And since most of the college was in classes by now, you found yourself alone in the big bathroom.

You hadn't cried until now, but as you undressed yourself and got under the generous flow of water, something inside you just… unraveled. You started weeping uncontrollably, choking with your tears and the water, you hugged yourself under the falling boiling water seeking for comfort, but you couldn’t find any

Every breath you took hurt, deep within your chest, and you cried and cried until you felt your eyes sore

Your Aemond, your boyfriend, the one that gave you a promise ring… the one you knew since kindergarten, the one who was your first kiss, your first… everything! He was cheating on you with your own professor, Alys, the one that encouraged you and tried to nurture you, and guide you through this uncertainty in this part of your life. The one that you considered to be your only stone here besides your loving boyfriend

What was wrong with them?

What was wrong with you? What did you do wrong? you chose school because of him, you changed careers, you endured a hell for him, you dressed how he liked it, to arranged your hair the way he liked it, you stopped doing things you enjoyed, stopped watching films that made you laugh because they were “childish”, you stopped listening to upbeat music because it wasn’t “proper”

Everything for him

You loved him with all your heart

You knew Friday morning he had this debate class, very important and he couldn’t miss it, or he would have been throwing your door down, so you took that as a sign, you needed to work fast and sneakily.

You needed to get out of here

You didn’t want to see him ever again

So you ran back to your room, got dressed quickly, and the first thing you did was run back to the bar, where the cleaning lady returned your phone to you.

You turned it on and to no surprise, you found thousands of texts and missed calls from Aemond

“love where are you?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m coming to your dorm”

“Maris says you were not there, wtf? where are you?”

“You clearly don’t want to speak to me, but I just wanted to know you are ok”

“I don’t understand why you are doing this to me, did I do something wrong? Are you mad?”

“The least you could do is face me like an adult”

You rolled your eyes as you read the messages, he growing angrier, trying to turn this on you

But then he sent a video of a instagram story, of you and Ben hugging and laughing, taking tequila shots, it was uploaded by a classmate of Aemond who had clearly saw you

“I see that you were not alone, I can’t believe you would do this to me”, he wrote, and you chuckled darkly, the audacity of him had no limits whatsoever, “I just wanted to see you, and be with you, I wanted you to help me study for my finals, I know this few months had been hard on you, but I least I thought we had eachother”, but then it got worse, he send you a picture of a flower bouquet and a dark red box, “I wanted to gift you this, to show you how much I love you, and how much I was looking forward to a future with you”, you couldn’t kept walking, you had to sit down in a bench looking down at a cliff, you couldn’t even walk because of how much you were crying.

You couldn’t believe this

Why would he do this to you? you had given him your everything, you had sex almost every day, you complimented each other, you told each other everything, you were what you thought a power couple, only that he had all the power while you were his cheerleader….

This fucker, you wiped your tears angrily from your face.

You were feeling a pain in your chest and you truly believed for a second you were having a heart attack, that you were positively going to die right here in this rusty bench, alone.

Your drunken thoughts from last night came rushing back in, of wanting to transfer to Winterfell University half semester.

It was an insane thought

But you also believe you couldn’t stay here, for what? this isn’t what you wanted, the only thing you thought you had was Aemond, who you just found out fucking YOUR teacher in the classroom. Staying here was insane, you had no friends, now you had no boyfriend, no career

When you finally calmed down and walked back to your dorm room, Aemond was waiting for you right outside.

And it's like all your convictions of leaving him and this school faltered just like that, just seeing him like that standing, his furrowed brow looking concerned for you. He was worried bout you, for a second you even believed that this was all a misunderstanding, they he couldn’t possibly do this to you

Right then and there you just wanted to beg him to stop, to stop his affair and look you in the eye and promise you it was never going to happen again, that he loved you, that you were the one. That he was drunk, or she made him do it. She coerced him into it.

But then he looked at you, and his concern went to annoyance

“Where have you been?”, he asked, walking towards you, “I was concerned for you!”, he immediately went to himself and what he was feeling, and you didn’t know where you got the strength from, but you looked at him, serious in the eye

“I failed color theory and anatomy drawing class”, you said, looking him in the eye, and the worst part is that you weren’t truly lying. His face softened as he looked at you with pity, “I feel like a massive failure, and I didn’t want to cry to you because you are already in the excellency program”, you whispered, looking at the ground in front of you

“So your solution was to go drink at a bar?”, he asked then, again, annoyed

“I found this guy that was from Winterfell University, the one I wanted to go, and asked him about the programs…”, he sighed

“We talked about this”, he said, “that college is not even ranking…”

“I don’t care Aemond”, you whispered, “I just need to sleep, please, and you are going to be late”, you whispered, not daring to look him in the eye

You believed you knew his schedule, but apparently not, because when he was supposed to be in study group, he was fucking your teacher…

“Are you going to be alright?”, he asked, “because I need my study partner”, he said, trying to sound hopeful. Yes you helped him study, you prepared flashcards for him, because you knew he had visual memory so he studied better with colors and images, so you prepared his study material and quizzed him

Maybe a couple of times with stripping quizzes…

Oh how foolish you had been

“Yes Aem”, you said, managing to smile at him, “I just need some time”

“You have it love”, he whispered, “I love you”

“Love you”, you closed the door gently, leaving him outside, and threw yourself in the bed, hiding your face in the pillow and weeped a bit more.

Perhaps you should face Aemond, hear what he has to say, you wanted to believe it so badly, that there was something else to it, that perhaps…

You were a fool

They were fucking on top her desk… what else is there? he was cheating on you, she was violating hundreds of protocols, so was he

You dozed off to sleep

You woke up when your roommate entered the room

“You still drunk?”, she sneered

“No”, you whispered, “just tired”, you didn’t even know why you bothered

You have made a decision…

You were going to leave this place

You were going to leave and not tell a soul, not even Aemond, you were going to disappear from his life, from one hour to the next

You contacted Ben, and he told you everything you need to know, the semester was almost over, but the next one was just around the corner, and you had to do this, not even for spite, but because this is what you wanted from your future

So you did the only thing you could think off

So went to speak with the dean

She was an old family friend, she knew your parents and family since forever, she was very professional and never showed favoritism, but, you knew you were on her good side

“I want to know if I can transfer to another university”, you asked shakily, once she invited you to take a seat in in front of her desk, she looked at you puzzled

“Did something happen? the school year is not even over yet”, she said with her kind eyes, truly worried for you

“I realized I didn’t choose the university for the school path I wanted to take”, you tried to explain, but the sorrow in your face made her believe you were not being truthful, or that you weren’t telling her the truth, “I choose Dragonstone because of love”. you continued, “and now I don’t have that love, and… I want to study a design mayor”

“I see”, now she was more pleased, “Where would you like to go?”, she asked

“Winterfell University”, you said without even thinking about it, she only nodded

“I have a good friend up there”, she said, “so the change wouldn’t be the problem, you have the grades and the Maester exams scores in your favor, but, are you sure this is what you want?”, she asked.

“More than anything”, you said with a smile

Rhaenys Targaryen was the cousin of Aemond’s father, but they didn’t get along very well, it was messy, she was the Headmaster to Dragonstone University

“You will have to start in the middle of the year”, she warned, and you only nodded

“It’s what I want”, you assured her, she looked at you, analyzing you

“Good, but first, I need you to finish the courses you are in”, your face said it all as it froze in place, looking at the face of that witch is the last thing you wanted to do

“That is expected of me”, you said, and smiled, she smiled back

“I’ll start with the paperwork, I have already received a letter of recommendation from Ben Tallheart, a representative of Winterfell university that is in the grounds this week”

“Yeah, I’ve met him”, you said smiling shyly

“Good luck finishing the rest of the courses”

Luck, you will need.

After chapter notes: look, if I stopped and wrote all the details of their relationship, this whole fic would be around them, so I narrated what happened instead of making the reader “live it”, get my meaning? This is about healing and seeing that there is something more than “that great love”, so I didn’t stop to focus on the toxic relationship with Aemond, so… One mroe chapter of reader's mess, and we are off to Winterfell! jeje

taglist!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hbo house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark

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kairismess · 3 months

Note

Hii!! Can I request Hinata with childhood best friends to lovers with a fem! s/o? I'm in love with soft pining stuff and Hinata so why not put two and two together ✨✨

Btw love your writing!!!

hearts' day 003.

from his best friend to his girlfriend, his one and only.

"oh, her? she's my best friend! well... at least i think she's just my best friend..."

shoyo had never thought twice about what you were to him, whenever someone on his team, in his class, or any of his close friends and family members asked him about you, he never hesitated to say you were his best friend.

you were his best friend in the sense that he couldn't remember what life was like without you, it was like you were always just with him, and to imagine his life before you... it didn't feel right, like every happy, good thing that happened to him, ever sad, gut-wrenching memory he has, you were always there to support him, to comfort him, to laugh with and cry with him.

he had always admired you, for every little and big thing you did for and with him, for every memory you two shared together, it was like you were the most comforting constant in his life–the warmest ray of sunshine in is life without even realizing it.

whenever the orange haired boy spoke about you, he always had the biggest, brightest smile on his face; always had the happiest voice when he told stories about you two, and never stopped complimenting you, never stopped describing you in the sweetest way possible.

and only when others kept pointing out how his feelings for you were probably a little more than just friendly feelings... he soon felt the butterflies flying around in his stomach, the fuzzy heat in his cheeks, and the unbearable urge to want to hold you in his arms, be your strength, your refuge, for as long as you'll let him be.

he couldn't find the courage to tell you right away, because you two had been friends for so long that it just felt a little weird to him to suddenly go from being your best friend to suddenly your best friend who had feelings for you. he overthought so much when he was around you during that time, there were so many things he wanted to do for and with you, but he could never quite take that first, pivotal step to letting his feelings for you be known.

but of course, no secret of his could ever be kept from you for too long; and so... he confessed to you one starry evening when you were at his place, with his parents and natsu fast asleep, the two of you outside in the backyard, just lying down on a picnic blanket under the stars. he let out his heart to you, expressed how he just couldn't not love you, because... you were everything.

you were beautiful, you were smart, you were kind, you were loving, you were... you. and that was more than enough reason for shoyo to love you more than anyone he's ever loved before.

and from that evening forth... he finally felt free. he finally felt like you two could soar together, that's how he felt when you made the first move and became the girl he shared his first kiss with. and now, he can't imagine the rest of his life without you.

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angstflayer-council · 9 months

Text

July Drabble #4- Girl Talk

“I like Nancy.”

Her voice cracked and she curled in on herself, afraid of the response that would eventually come. She didn’t know what she would do if Steve hated her for something she had tried to ignore for so long. Robin knew it was wrong to have a crush on her best friend’s ex and she knew there was a chance that Steve could react negatively, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

She told Steve everything. She needed to tell him this.

His silence scared her. They hadn’t turned the lights on when they climbed into the bed so she couldn’t see his face; couldn’t see his reaction. 

Robin reached out with a shaky hand and breathed a sigh of relief when Steve entwined their fingers together, their socked feet were already touching as they lay facing each other in Robin’s bed. “Are you mad at me?” The question broke the silence in the room and caused Steve to squeeze her hand in reassurance. 

“I’m not mad, Robs.” He sighed softly and held her hand against his heart. “I’m worried you’ll get hurt. I don’t know if Nancy is... ya’know.” He trailed off and if the light was on, Robin would be able to see the sad smile that no doubt pulled at his lips.

“And for that exact reason I tried not to like her, Steve, I really did. She’s just so - “ Beautiful, smart, caring, brave. 

“Perfect.” Steve said with a soft laugh. 

Robin sighed and rolled onto her back; Steve kept her hand held tight in his own. “Perfect.” The word was both right and wrong. Robin felt she needed a whole new alphabet to find the right words to describe Nancy.

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“Tell her that I like her? God, no. That’s between us and whatever god is listening.” Robin's not stupid. She knew she was never going to be anything more than Nancy’s friend, she’s cried and journaled about it already. It’s completely fine with her. Sort of. Not really. 

Steve moved closer, his big head now squished onto the same pillow as her. He waited a beat before saying softly, “No, are you going to tell her you’re a lesbian?”

Steve’s words settled on top of Robin like a weighted blanket that’s just slightly too heavy. She knew that in order to confess to Nancy she'd have to come out to her but the thought made Robin’s stomach flip and flop like a fish out of water.

“Do I have to?” She was scared, terrified actually.

“No, but maybe telling her could help. Maybe Nancy broke up with me because she's secretly a lesbian.” Robin could hear the smile in his voice. He had a point but it was still so nerve wracking.

What if it went badly? What if the one person Robin really wanted to know the truth didn’t accept her?

Robin let out a sad noise, somewhere between a groan and a sob, and Steve, sensing her distress, pulled the covers over their heads so that they were shielded from the world. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Robs. There’s no rush. You’ll get there one day and when that day comes, I’ll be by your side.” 

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy.”

“You love my cheese.” 

Robin snorted and shoved him lightly. “No, I don’t. I’m lactose intolerant.”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #Nancy wheeler #ronance #platonic stobin #stranger things #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin friendship #July drabble game

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starsandhughes · 11 months

Text

Summer Lovin'— Quinn Hughes

request: "for Quinn's beautiful Monday Y/n has been best friends with Jack for years and was always invited to the boys' parties and summers at the lake house. She and Quinn were never close, he only saw her as his younger brother's best friend, but now, this summer at the lake house, Jack invites her over to catch up on their homesickness. Quinn hasn't seen Y/N in a couple of years (she's in college) and is amazed at how beautiful, mature, smart, and sarcastic she has become. I imagine them flirting as a joke, him trying to win her over AND Jack being jealous of his best friend"

warnings: none that i can think of!

word count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

HAPPY QUINN HUGHES MONDAY <3

You hadn’t been to the Hughes family lake house in a while. This summer will be the first time in three years due to moving away for college in California. You’ve seen Jack a few times, obviously, since he’s your best friend. But the rest of the family? It’s been a while.

You arrived an hour early, so the boys and their friends are still out on the boat. You took the time to catch up with Jim and Ellen, telling them all about your life in college so far.

“I better see a graduation invitation in the mail!” Ellen said, pointing her finger at you.

“You will!” you laughed. “I can’t graduate without my second family there!”

The boys, them being Jack, Quinn, Luke, Trevor, and Dylan, got back to the house about an hour and a half after you arrived. Jack definitely spotted your car parked out front, because he bursted open the door.

“Y/N!” Jack yelled excitedly.

You turned around with a big smile on your face and ran straight to your best friend. You practically jumped into his arms and he spun you around in a giant hug, lifting your feet into the air.

“I’ve missed you so much!” you said when he put you down.

“My turn!” Trevor announced and pulled you in for a hug. “I’ve never missed someone so much!”

“I see you all the time,” you rolled your eyes jokingly. “I’ve enjoyed my space.”

“Rude!” Trevor gasped.

After you pulled away from Trevor’s hug, you spotted Quinn. He looked different than the last time you saw him. Really saw him, since you watched all of his games over the years. He looked good. Really, really good. You were never that good of friends, since you were mostly just with Jack. Quinn had gone to NTDP and college and then the NHL, so you didn’t really have many good opportunities to get close.

“You cut your hair,” you smiled at Quinn. “It looks good.”

Quinn blushed and pulled you into a hug. You suddenly noticed your heart beating a little faster at his touch. Which is weird because you’ve never experienced that before around him.

“I’ve cut my hair lots of times over the past three years,” Quinn laughed.

“Yeah, but it’s different than when I last saw you on my TV! Can’t even take a compliment,” you tutted.

“You… You watched my games?” Quinn asked, clearly flustered.

“Every one,” you told him with a softness in your tone. What was going on with you?

Quinn and you stared at each other a little too long, but Luke stepped in before it got too noticeable.

“Hey, I missed you, too, you know!”

“Moose!” you said with glee. “Look at you! Look at how much you’ve grown!”

You played catch up with everyone. From the NHL seasons, to college, to injuries. You caught up with every single little detail. The details you paid the most attention to? Quinn’s. You talked about how hard some of the trades this season were, and how much he does love his new teammates. Jack inched closer to you every time you said some harmless, yet very flirty, comment at Quinn.

“I was dying at your fight in one of your last games! You took him down real quick, it was pretty entertaining,” you told Quinn.

“Entertaining?” he asked, laughing.

“Oh yeah; I would’ve loved a front row seat to that. It was kinda hot,” you said, putting your elbow on the table and resting your head in your hand.

Jack shot a look at Trevor, silently begging for him to do something.

“What about my fights?” Trevor asked, copying your pose. “Were those hot?”

“No, because you whined like a baby to me after about a bruise! And I’m not sure that any of your game time extra curricular activities classify as a fight! You’re just a professional nuisance,” you laughed, shoving your hand in his face to make him lose his balance.

“You’re a professional nuisance,” Trevor grumbled.

You fake gasped and put your hand over your heart, “How dare you! I’m an angel. Right, Quintin?”

“You’re alright,” Quinn said, sending you a wink. You couldn’t help but smile at him. And Jack couldn’t help but be practically glued to your hip and sending Quinn a look.

“See? I’m alright,” you smirked.

Quinn couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You’ve grown up. He never noticed how beautiful and mature you’d gotten, while still keeping true to your joking and sarcastic self. He told you you were alright, but to him, you’re much more than that. He thinks you’re amazing. He thinks you’re mesmerizing.

Jack wasn’t a fan of how cozy you and his brother were getting. You used to barely talk to him growing up, and suddenly you think his fighting is hot? And he’s winking at you? You’re his best friend. Not Quinn’s. He didn’t even mind how close you and Trevor have gotten due to you going to college near where he lives. You two have always been friends. That isn’t new. This is.

Trevor, however, was all for this new flirtationship. He was enjoying watching it, much to Jack’s displeasure. You all decided to play Sorry, and by that you mean that you begged to play it and everyone would be in pairs. Trevor immediately called Jack as his partner, so Quinn took his chance to ask if you wanted to pair up. That left Luke and Duker as partners, and Jim and Ellen would play as the fourth pair.

“I’m going to whoop your ass, Hughesy,” you said, talking to Jack.

“Who’s ass? My ass?” Quinn asked jokingly.

“Maybe later,” you said, now sending him a wink. “But I meant Jack! He’s partnered with Trevor, so I’m elated for their downfall.”

“We could’ve been the dream team!” Jack protested.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased. “This is much more fun.”

Luke and Dylan ended up winning first place, but you all continued to play for second, third, and fourth place. The parents got second, so that left you, Quinn, Jack, and Trevor playing for third.

You stood up and got behind Quinn when it was his turn to draw. You needed a two to win. You reached over and tapped twice on the deck and then put your hands on Quinn’s head. You leaned down and whispered into his ear, “You will draw a two! You hear me, Quintin? A two!”

You dramatically placed a quick and hard kiss on the top of his head and ruffled his hair for good measure for “the maximum good vibes.”

Quinn slowly picked up a card and hid it from everyone’s view, including your eyes. He sighed, acting like it wasn’t a good card.

“Sorry, bro,” Jack tutted. “We can’t all be winners.”

“That’s true,” Quinn agreed. He placed the card down, revealing it to be a two, “But not us.”

You threw your hands in the air and cheered, making a show to place your final piece in home. You hugged Quinn from behind and squeezed really tight making him laugh.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Suck it!”

“I think you’re too excited about third place,” Dylan laughed.

“I’m excited about Jacky and Z losing, Duker!”

After everyone called it a night, you followed Jack into his room instead of going straight to yours.

“Alright spill it,” you said as you sat down next to him on his bed. “You’ve been surgically attached to my hip and glaring at everybody since I got here. What is up with you?’

“Wouldn’t you rather be talking to Quinn?” Jack asked passive aggressively.

“Aww,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder. “Are you jealous, Jacky?”

“No! You’ve just been all over him today,” he grumbled, but accepted your hug.

“Don’t worry, Jacky, you’re still my number one guy. You’ll be my maid of honor at my future wedding!”

“It would be my honor,” Jack joked.

“That is in the title, so I sure hope so,” you said. “Why do you have a problem with me talking to Quinn?”

“You’re not just talking! You’re flirting and winking at each other and kissing him. It’s weird! You two have never been close.”

“It’s not like we’re making out! What’s wrong with being close to your family? It’s basically mine, too.”

“Do you like him?” he asked quietly.

“We’re adults, J,” you said low.

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

“I don’t know! Okay? This is new to me, too.”

Jack turned away from you and you sighed. You moved to be in his view again. You grabbed his face in your hands, “I don’t know if I like him or not. Everything just feels… different. And I know I like that.”

Jack said nothing. He looked deflated. He loved you, as his best friend, and he obviously loves his brother. But you two together? He didn’t love that at this moment.

You kissed his cheek after a long period of silence, giving up on him saying anything.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen this summer, but I hope I’m still your best friend at the end of it. Because you’ll always be mine.”

You got up and walked to his door to go to your room when the sound of his voice stopped you.

“You’ll still be my best friend. No matter what,” Jack told you. You turned back around and sent him a soft smile, “Goodnight, J.”

The next few weeks consisted of more flirting and teasing between you and Quinn, more bullying of Trevor, scolding the boys whenever they teased Luke and Dylan because they’re your “precious and innocent babies.”

The sexual tension between you and Quinn grew tremendously every day. You were now completely sure of your feelings and it was driving you crazy. Summer was almost over, and you decided to be a lot more bold with Quinn in hopes that he would catch your endless hints.

You were all around the bonfire that night and the spots were limited for some reason. Trevor rushed ahead of you and placed himself right next to Jack, the last actual seat, and tossed his legs over to lay in Jack’s lap. He motioned to you towards Quinn, and you knew what he was doing.

You walked over to Quinn, “Do you mind?”

Quinn heated up, “No! I mean… I don’t mind. You can sit.”

You breathed out a laugh and shook your head as you sat down in his lap. You grabbed his hands and put them around your waist and leaned back against him.

“You’re quite the comfortable seat, Quintin! Ten out of ten, would recommend to a friend,” you said.

“I try,” Quinn said back.

You looked over at Jack with an almost pleading look in your eyes. You would back off if he really wanted you to. Trevor smacked Jack’s shoulder to make him look at you. Jack sighed, but gave you a slight nod. What you didn’t catch was Jack giving the same nod to Quinn.

“Hey, do you two want to head inside and grab some beers?” Jack asked, directing his question to you and Quinn.

You hopped off Quinn’s lap and made your way inside with him to the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to come,” Quinn said. “I can handle the beers and I got you some Smirnoffs that I can–”

“Quinn!” you cut him off.

Quinn turned around and looked at you confused.

“You called me Quinn,” he said. “You haven’t called me Quinn all summer.”

You stepped closer to him, “Tell me you’ve caught on to what Jack and Trevor are doing.”

Quinn smiled and took a step closer to you, bringing you inches apart from each other.

“I like it when you call me Quintin,” he whispered.

“And I’d like it if you kissed me,” you said boldly. “Quintin.”

Quinn didn’t waste a second. He spun you around and pushed you up against the fridge. He had one hand pressed against it and his other on your waist, slamming his lips against yours. Your hands reached up and tangled themselves into his hair, opening your mouth to let him in. It wasn’t a typical soft and slow kiss. This was rough and raw. It was filled with everything that has built up between you over the last few weeks.

You two pulled apart, breathing heavily.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to come to Vancouver for some games?” he asked breathlessly, still inches away from your lips.

“Kiss me again and I’ll go anywhere for you,” you said.

He did. You didn’t think it was possible for the kiss to get even hotter, but you two needed each other. Bad.

“What’s it going to take to get you to go out on a date with me before you go back to Cali?”

“Kiss me again and I’m yours.”

You heard the door open and you two quickly pulled apart. It was Jack and Trevor.

“We were wondering why it was taking you two ten minutes to grab a few beers,” Trevor smirked. “Now I see why.”

Your and Quinn’s faces turned bright red. Quinn ran a hand through his hair and you tried to fix yours as well.

“We were just–”

“LA LA LA LA LA I don’t wanna hear it!” Jack cut you off. “Just don’t do it in front of me.”

You two moved out of the way and let him grab the drinks.

“Have fun you two!” Trevor called out as him and Jack made their way back outside.

“Not too much fun! I expect to see you both back out here tonight!” Jack shouted.

“Don’t listen to him! Have a lot of fun!”

You tilted your head down and stifled a laugh, “Who do you want to listen to?”

Quinn moved back in front of you and closed the space between you.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Trevor.”

“Yeah? You gonna kiss me like that again, Quintin?” you teased. “Or do you wanna go up stairs for some… extracurricular activities?”

“I vote the second one.”

“Good,” you said, biting your lip and running your fingers through his hair. “Lead the way.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes #trevor zegras #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #quinn hughes monday

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papercorgiworld · 2 months

Text

When friends help you get the girl

A Remus Lupin love story

Remus struggles to ask you out and James tries to help. When Remus doesn't want to tell you he's a werewolf Sirius takes the blame. And Peter makes sure you spend some extra time together.

Not really a request, but I got two Remus related asks and I took that as a hint. First time writing for Remus, so I hope I did it right. Furthermore, atm I'm not working through my request chronological bc I was in the mood for a few short things, before I start on the bigger ones. Anyways, I hope you likey and per usual happy readings!

Warning: none, a bit flirty at the end

I. James intervenes

Remus was staring, no, he was ogling you as you walked in front of him and James snickers at his love struck friend. “Mate, you gotta stop staring and just talk to her.” Remus looks absolutely horrified at his friend’s advice. “Yeah, that might work for you, but I’m not doing that.” Remus argues and James chuckles. “So what’s your plan of action then? Stare at her… and hope for what?” Remus sighs. “I’m not staring… and nothing has to happen.” Remus drags his eyes away from you embarrassed at James' accusation. A mischievous smirk tugs on James’ lips as Remus’ eyes land back on you when you laugh at something Marlene says. Without Remus catching on James’ hand moves to his wand and he casts a little spell that causes a soft breeze to lift up your skirt, making you yelp and turn around.

You notice Remus, who’s just smiling at you like a fool, and James who’s pointing at Remus telling you he’s the culprit. You frown at Remus and only then Remus realises James is pointing at him. Remus’ face fills with panic and he takes a step towards you. “No, no, it wasn’t me.” James laughs and Remus gets even more flustered. You grab your wand and James realises it’s time for him to run, leaving you with Remus. “I know it wasn’t you. I know you.” You reassure Remus as he watches James run around a corner, but he quickly looks back at you. “You do?” Remus asks, surprised by your answer since the two of you haven’t talked a lot. You smile at Remus’ surprised look. “Yes. Some people you just know from the moment you meet them.” The beautiful and genuine smile on your lips makes Remus relax.

***

Remus returns to the common room and spots a grinning James sitting next to Peter and Sirius. “So, when’s the date, mate?” Remus chuckles at his friend’s question. “No date. We just talked. She is still after you for what you did by the way.” Sirius and Peter aren’t impressed and James just looks annoyed with Remus. “I took a risk blowing her skirt like that, but I took that risk because I thought you would take your chance and ask her out.” Remus gets flustered, because now everyone’s staring at him. “Guys, I’m not asking her out.” Sirius huffs. “Lame.” Peter shakes his head in disappointment and James looks almost mad, but they decide to drop the subject.

II. Sirius takes the blame

You had your suspicions. The injuries and always after a full moon, and there was also the nickname Moony, but you were sure when you had overheard the four friends whisper about werewolves. However, when you asked subtle questions hoping Remus would tell you something he always changed the subject or denied it, lying to your face how nothing was going on.

You had been understanding up until now, but today you’d had enough. As soon as Lily told you that Remus was in the hospital wing again you marched over there. Not to say you looked angry, but people moved aside when they saw you approaching.

When you spot Remus laying in bed all bruised and cuts on his face you calm down a little, not wanting to yell at him since he’s hurt, so you decide to play it smart. Unaware of you approaching, Remus laughs at something Sirius is joking about. “Hi.” You announce yourself with a sweet voice and Remus looks up startled to see you were here again for him. You had visited him every time he had ended up there and every time he had to come up with a lame excuse. She must think I’m the clumsiest guy alive. Ugh, I’ve got to come up with a better excuse. Something tough and manly. Remus smiles. “Hi.” You take a seat on his bed and grab his hand. “Tripped and fell down the stairs again?” You ask with a concerned voice and Sirius struggles to hide a chuckle, making your eyes dart to him for a second, before focussing on Remus again. Remus swallows and scans the room searching for a good excuse, when his eyes land on Sirius. “I got in a fight with Sirius.” He suddenly blurs and Sirius looks absolutely horrified at the accusation.

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. “You got in a fight… with Sirius?” Remus nods, thinking his answer has you thinking he’s a strong tough guy, but you're not impressed by his lying nor his lame excuse. “So Sirius beat you up? But now your friends again?” Your eyes move between both Gryffindors and both nod hesitantly. Your eyes widen at their act and amused you cross your arms. “Why?” Remus shakes his head at your question. “What do you mean why?” You narrow your eyes at Remus. “Why did you two idiots fight?” You clarify and Remus frowns as he tries to come up with an answer. Worst liar ever. You roll your eyes. “Sirius got drunk.” Remus suddenly yells, happy he found an explanation. You frown and look over at a shocked Sirius, who then turns to you staring for a few seconds before picking up on the act. “Yeah. Sooo drunk. And then I punched him hard. And threw him off the stairs.” A nervous chuckle leaves Sirius and you sigh.

“Remus! Stop lying!” You yell suddenly and Sirius takes a step back in surprise. Remus’ smile falls as he realises he was fooling himself thinking you would fall for the stupid lie. “Fine you figured it out.” Remus admits and you sigh relieved that he’s done lying. “I have been keeping a secret… I’m... an animagus.” Your eyes turn stern and sigh annoyed with him. “No Remus, you’re a werewolf.” You state and look to meet his eyes, but he avoids your gaze, feeling ashamed of what he is and also because he was caught in a lie. You shake your head with sad eyes. “Why would you keep something so big from me? You know me, I would never judge you for something like that.” Sirius slowly and quietly moves back, giving the two of you space.

Remus sighs defeated and he knows he has to admit everything, you deserve the truth. “I know we would still be friends, but I don’t want to be just your friend. I wanted to be the perfect guy… for you.” He still doesn't dare meet your eyes, but you continue to watch him. “Remus.” You whisper and smile, leaning a bit closer. “You are perfect. And not despite being a werewolf, but because you are one.” Your statement makes him meet your eyes, confused about what you’re trying to say. “Your compassion, your strength, your loyalty, your gentleness towards everyone and everything is because of who you are as a whole and what you live through. I think every scar makes you look even more pure and perfect.”

There’s a silence as Remus processes your words, but you mistake this silence for rejection. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, when you are more than I can wish for.” At those words Remus closes the last bit of space between you two and hesitantly he opens his mouth. “No, no. I was being a coward, you’ve been nothing but good to me and you make me so happy. Please. I should’ve been honest with you. I just- I-.” Feeling encouraged by his words, you reach for his shaky hands. “Kiss me, Remus.” You whisper and his heart stops beating for a few seconds, before he nods making you smile as he nervously moves so his nose gently brushes yours, before your lips meet for a tender kiss.

III. Peter has a plan

At the Hufflepuff party certain Gryffindors are up to no good. “Ingenious!” James whispers excited with Peter’s plan. “This will definitely work.” Sirius adds, making you and Remus frown as you approach the trio. “What are you up to?” You ask, making them jump and turn around with guilty faces. “Up to?” Sirius asks immediately followed by James saying “Nothing.” to which Remus narrows his eyes at Peter who smiles “Good.”. You roll your eyes and look at Remus. “Let’s get a drink.” The three guilty guys give the two of you an awkward thumbs up as you walk away chuckling. “Your friends are idiots.” You joke and Remus raises his brows. “Tell me about it.”

***

“Spin the bottle!” Someone yells and even though you hadn’t seen Peter, James or Sirius since you arrived they suddenly appeared out of nowhere and forced you both to participate in the silly game. “(y/n) begins.” Peter urges, pointing at the bottle in front of you. You’re hesitant because you really aren’t in the mood to kiss anyone that isn’t your boyfriend, but you give in to peer pressure anyway and spin the bottle. You’re overjoyed when it lands on Remus and you instantly shuffle a little closer to your flustered boyfriend. You loved how in public he would still get nervous around you and you bite your lip adoring his sweet smile as you go stand on your tiptoes.

However, your sweet moment is ruined when Peter and Sirius push you. “That way, both of you. No need to do that business when you’re in public.” You notice James holding a door open and signalling for you to get in the room. “I thought we were playing spin the bottle.” Remus argues confused as his friends guide the both of you to the room. “We’re playing the extended version.” Sirius explains. “Yes, 70 minutes in heaven.” Peter adds and you frown at the number. “It’s 7 minutes.” You correct and Peter snorts. “No, 70 is better, no need to rush things. It’s your first time, so take your time.” Your mouth drops, but you’re already in the room and with a grin James closes the door and locks it. Stunned, you turn on your heels to face your boyfriend who’s nervously biting his thumb. “I might’ve told them that we hadn’t gotten around to… uhm, things.”

You raise your brows and smile. “You told… Sirius, James and Peter that we haven’t had sex yet and you expected them to be normal about it.” Remus chuckles nervously. “Their stupid is affecting me.” You laugh at his innocent face and he takes a step towards you, cupping your cheek. “I’m so sorry you have to put up with them.” You meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. “You are worth all the trouble they cause.” Your forgivingness is met with a sweet kiss. “I love you.” Remus whispers and you happily wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” His hands move to your hips pulling you closer, brushing his lips over yours again. “We are stuck here for 70 minutes…” You whisper, lips barely removed from his. “I’m sure we can break the spell.” Remus says, eyes moving towards the door, thinking of possible spells. “Yeah, the stupid is definitely rubbing off on you.” You roll your eyes and it takes Remus only a few seconds to catch on.

“Did I just accidently reject my girlfriend?” He asks with a slight panic in his voice and you give him an obvious look. “You better make this up to me.” You tease and Remus grins. “Don’t mind if I do.” In an instant his lips are back on yours, hands exploring every curve of your body.

Wordcount: 1928

#marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x you #papercorgiworldwritings

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lilozzzyo3569 · 11 days

Text

Miguel O'Hara X Female Reader

Summary: You just started your new job working for the spider society and meet you boss....... Warnings: I do not own Miguel O'Hara (IF ONLY I DID), MDNI, Miguel O'Hara being low key obsessive and possessive, but more love spring and less call the cops crazy, you are super smart and created your trans dimensional device by yourself- GO YOU!

You were beyond excited, nervous but still excited. Ever since you were sitting in your apartment alone tinkering with a device that would allow your to explore different dimensions, you were just about to power it up when a small little digital brunette popped up and said "Oh good I got to you before you powered up your trans dimensional device, I am going to need you to come with me ASAP if you don't mind" you were certain that you had turned on your device, electrocuted yourself and were now passed out so you of course said "can I bring my pizza?"

Fast forward to now you are walking through the spider society building with Lyla chatting your ear off explaining everything as she directed you to your office, while you held a large box with all of your equipment in your arms. Lyla then told that you needed to met the head of the spider society "the head spider?" you asked making Lyla chuckle, or is it "Mr. Spider?" Lyla stopped floating ahead of you to hunch over laughing and responded "yes, please call him that to show respect" you nodded as she pointed down the hall to a large door and said "just go through that door I gotta go make sure your office is ready for you." You walked to the door and barely managed to get the door open when a VERY large man lunged at you roaring "WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE" his voice boomed making you scream as you dropped the box and fell against the door as you stuttered "Ly-Lyla hire- me I smart- I -I-I please don't kill me Mr. Spider Lyla will be so mad" this did little to deter the very large although he was slightly confused as to why you called him Mr. Spider. But luckily for you Lyla appeared and scolded Miguel "WTF do you think you are doing to my new tech?" Lyla wagged her digital little finger at Miguel making him back off and argue with her "Since when do you hire without talking to me, I look up and someone is walking into my office, what did you expect" Lyla gave him a pointed look before he sighs and says "I'm sorry new tech that Lyla hired without talking to me" Miguel's heart immediately breaks though looking at you, now on the floor with tears in your eyes looking terrified, biting your lip, he reaches to help you up and feels how soft your little hand feels in his as you try to smile at his help. Once you are standing your turn around and start to gather your things. Miguel's breath catches in his throat at seeing you now bent over giving a truly breath taking view, you are completely oblivious when you hear him deeply inhale. You turn around after gathering your box asking "are you okay Mr. Spider?" Miguel wants to bash his head into his desk. He looks down at you biting your lip and looking up at him with genuine concern in your beautiful eyes, after he was he asshole who yelled at you. All he can think is, how is this perfect little angel even real. He looks confused looking at you "did you just call me Mr. Spider?" You tilt your head to the side saying, "Lyla said-" you are cut off with Lyla laughing and Miguel sighing deep and saying "you can just call me Spiderman," you nod embarrassed slightly blushing before Lyla telling you to follow her to your office before Miguel faints at how adorable you are.

You are working in your office with your headphones fixing some coding for Lyla unaware of the large man that keeps walking by your office inhaling your scent from outside your door. Miguel doesn't understand how he even got over here, he just couldn't stop thinking about you, your scent, your smile, your body, all the things he would kill just to be able to touch you again, hold you, ANYTHING. He still doesn't understand how he got so obsessed with you so quickly, maybe it was your scent, your scent was sweet like sugary fruity floral heaven, maybe it was because you were from a different dimension. He just knew that he needed to be closer to you.

So come lunch time he knocked on your office door, "it's open, is that you Peter?" you turned around to see your very large boss holding a small pile of empanadas. "I hope you like empanadas, I wanted to come and apologize for earlier." You smile at the food and offer for him to sit , you start to eat the empanadas as he takes off his mask showing you his face for the first time and smiles gently at you as he comments "I like your office" you smile brightly at him "thank you Lyla set it all up for me after I told her what I wanted." you lick you lips after finishing your empanada making Miguel slightly roll his eyes before saying "I am sorry for earlier, I didn't mean to scare you, I am really not a bad guy I was just- you just- ugh I am sorry" he holds his head down so you scoot closer to him and tentatively put your hands on his lap and say "I understand, I am actually happy to know you don't hate me" his head snaps up and looks into your eyes and says "I could never hate you!" you are taken aback a bit at how quickly he said that, you giggle cutely and OH GOD if that wasn't the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, his heart melted and if he wasn't sitting down he might've dropped to his knees from shock. Miguel looked into your eyes, "What dimension are you from?" you smile and tell him "Earth-71, Lyla teleported to me when I was working on my own trans dimensional device."

You spent your entire lunch break with Miguel in your office asking you endless questions about your dimension and your life. He seemed extremely fascinated in you and your life. You lunch break was almost over when he build up the courage to ask you, "um considering you just got to the dimension maybe I could take you out and show you around some time" you smile confused before saying "um sure okay, I am going out with Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter and Pavitr this weekend. Lyla introduced us when I first got to this dimension. They're all super cool." Miguel gritted his teeth and said "yeah they are very cool *sarcastically* but we can go out tonight, I'll pick you up at 7" he has said before smiling and leaving your office to go back to his office and think about how to keep you away from anyone that isn't him because you are clearly made for him and he is already in love *obsessed* with you

This didn't necessarily go where I thought but I am cool with it, I just really wanted to play around with some Miguel O'Hara being immediately sprung over you and wanting you all to himself

#miguel o'hara #astv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel spiderverse

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 6)

Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol), Aegon ii x reader, Rhaenyra x Alicent if you squint

Summary: You unlock new information as you descend for Dragonstone

A/N: sooo we are getting into the fun part (imo).. the character study and canon divergence! Just fair warning that this story is not going to go exactly like f&b or like the show. There will be elements taken from both. Can go ahead and let y’all know this will not be about who sits in the end, but more the chaos to get there. This also means different povs which is exciting. This chapter is sort of prepping everything for the next phase 😎

Fmo masterlist

“This seems like a convoluted plan, just for end goal for Aegon to be King,” Helaena sits in the middle of you chambers watching you pack.

“It is not about Aegon being king,” you reply, inspecting one your dresses. You scrunch you nose up and put it back in the closet. Perhaps it is best to stay away from green during your stay.

It may not be the story you told the Hand when he gave you the go ahead to leave. He thinks this whole plot is to lure Rhaenyra into a false sense of hope. Have her taste the thing she has wanted for so long before she fails miserably. This goes far beyond Aegon at this point. Him being king would just be a unexpected change. The rightful choice in the eyes of some. The crumbling of the realm in others.

“Upsetting the succession now could lead to upheaval,” Helaena does not seem to believe you.

“Do you really think I care about Rhaenyra’s reign when my kids are involved?”

It comes out more snappy than you intended. Helaena’s shoulders drop a bit. You know Helaena is just as protective over her kids as you are of yours. If there was a chance to strike the people who hurt them, she’d take the same shot. But, you know she is worried about what Aegon being king means for her family. You sigh and run your hand over your face. Putting down the clothes, you walk and sit next to her.

“We have given ourselves enough for this family and for the realm,” you whisper. “I am done with that.”

It sounds bratty, and selfish. You have given up so much, so has Helaena and Alicent, and yet you all are still expected to take things with a smile. Pretty, accommodating, and benevolent that you have the Targaryen name. Or in your case, that you can marry someone with that last name and everything that comes with it.

If you take the swing and miss, so be it. Sitting idle while those walk all over you has done nothing but put you and your children’s safety in danger. Your natural softness taken for weakness.

“And… Queen Helaena does not have bad ring to it,” you nudge her playfully, and she snorts in reply.

“Maybe Aemond will be king, and you’ll be queen,” it’s said in a teasing tone but then she grows a bit serious. “Aegon would probably give it up… if he got something in return.”

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. Neither of them are ready to rule, but then again who is. Aegon would make a charismatic, even forbearing king; he has a disarming way about him that would work in his favor. Though, his inability to check his emotions would get in the way. He goes by the sound of his heart, and whims of his desires. Aemond, your painfully pragmatic husband, would rule dogmatically. But his inability to emote or to be empathetic would make him volatile… maybe even cruel.

Then you have Rhaenyra, the Realm’s Delight. Even from when you were young, all you ever heard was how lovely she is. Never how smart or capable she is to rule; it always went back to her beauty and her fiery nature. You still do not know if that was her unfortunate lot in life because of her gender or rather no one can praise her readiness, because she simply is not. And her case is not helped in your eyes with someone like Daemon in her corner.

One thing they do share is an incompetent father, so any hopes for learning how it is done was quickly diminished. Sitting on the Iron Throne may not be something that can be taught. Viserys came after Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s long reign. A reign considered to be a successful one, and Viserys seemingly picked up nothing about being proactive.

You take a good look at Helaena. If it someone you will whole heartedly miss while away, it is your good sister. Helaena, who is everything good about the Targaryen name: warm, loyal, and untamed. But also kind, and way more analytical than people give her credit for. Helaena the Dreamer… Helaena the Great.

“We could make it so you could rule.”

She gives your proposition a scrunched up face, and laugher. Sharp and bright. You know she has no desire to rule, but you can not help but think she would be good at it.

“If that is the case, you have to rule with me,” she takes your hand with a soft smile.

You imagine a world where all the men have rode off to fight their war. The women left to rule over a piles of ash, tired small folk, and elusive nobility. Two queens - just you, Helaena, and the children.

What a life to live.

A knock on the door interrupts Aemond’s reading.

“Do not come in,” he does not even look up from the book. Despite his wishes, a head of short silvery hair pops in. “I said do not come in.”

Aegon pays his brother no mind, breezily waltzing into Aemond’s study. He sits in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk with a sigh, as if he was begrudgingly summoned. Aemond tries to go back to reading, but it is hard to when his brother is staring at him expectedly.

Large, expecting eyes boring into him. He hates how much he looks like their mother in certain lights.

“What,” he finally snaps, and Aegon just smiles softly. In that warm way that makes people feel like they can let their guard down. Aegon always had way of making people feel like they are in on the joke he about to tell. Aemond has learned not to fall for the smile; he’s been on the other side of the joke too much to trust it.

“Are you going to see your wife off,” Aegon keeps his tone even, not giving anything away. His voice lifting a bit when he says wife.

Aemond tries equally hard not to let his mask slip. “No, she said it would better to do that behind closed doors.”

Something about him sending you off would defeat the purpose of it looking like you are upset enough to leave. Aemond had felt his eye glaze over a bit when you were explaining everything. When he first lost his eye, he would get head-splitting headaches. He hated taking milk of the poppy for them. Criston would tell him to turn his brain off, try not to think of the pain.

He finds himself still doing it to this day. Whenever he feels that tingle in the back of head, he clears his mind. For someone who constantly has things racing through his mind, he has gotten surprisingly good at it.

He had felt a cool hand on his forehead. You have that look in your eye you had said, hand traveling towards his cheek. You do that to Daella and Alaric too. He does not know if it a mother thing, or just a you thing.

It broke him out of his self-inflicted daze, just like how Aegon’s humming interrupts his thoughts of you now.

“I suppose that is best,” Aegon leans back in the seat casually. Aemond just sighs, waiting for the next stone to turn. He knows his brother did not come just to ask that especially when he could have just asked you himself.

Aegon seems to be lit from within. As each day passes, his brother shifts into a different person. The difference makes it hard for anyone to be upset at the cause of Aegon’s new attitude. A happy Aegon is not something anyone should take for granted.

“Is that all,” Aemond would like to get out of this conversation with his headspace in tact. The disarming charm of Aegon is often followed by deep disappointment.

Even with Aegon’s new disposition, the two of them still cannot see things the same. The deeply hidden flickers of hope Aemond has for reconcilement between him and his brother leave his body slowly but surely. It is better that way. Hold no hope, and the let down never comes.

The mirth that radiates off Aegon switches quickly.

“I just hope it was all worth it in the end,” his tone is sharp, and cold. Aemond instinctively flitches as Aegon’s large eyes bore into him. He hates how much Aegon looks like their mother in certain lights. It feels like he’s being scolded by her.

“But then again, how could it be? You have been living a great love affair that turns out to be a farce,” Aemond’s eye twitches a bit. “It is something I have always loved about you, brother. You always do things with all your might. No half battles for you; even in your fuck ups.”

And he hates how deeply his brother makes him feel. Skin crawling childhood memories rush over him. If it is one thing Aemond hates, it is the feeling of being backed into a corner.

“No whore, and wife and children to descend away with our sister and her bastards.”

For a moment, Aemond thinks about lunging over the desk at Aegon. But he knows exerting strength over Aegon does nothing now, not the way it did many moons ago when Aemond had his growth spurt. Just another notch in the post of things that made the brothers resent each other.

That reason seems silly compared to the others.

He knows Aegon is not just doing this for you, he enjoys the taunting in the way only a brother would. The same way only siblings would worry and focus on what one has over the other. A childish mindset that neither of them grown out of unfortunately.

They will always measure themselves against each other. Aegon with Aemond’s relationship with their mother. Aemond watching Aegon squander and relinquish any want for power or duty that could be attached to his name. And now you.

The words crawl up Aemond’s throat, and itch his tongue. He wants to say it so badly, what he has been thinking about ever since a couple of nights ago.

“You never even wanted her till she was upset with me,” Aemond blurts. He sounds like child. How he did when he would go to Alicent, near tears, when he was younger.

When he was young, he dreamed for the day to be older, more reassured, not to feel so small. Now he is older, and free feeling he wanted still had not come. Sometimes Aemond has to pinch himself. On the arm, on his thigh, or even on the stomach; he must remind himself that he was not one and ten anymore. He is a man grown.

Some days the pinching works. Or he hears Alaric’s babbling in the room, and he brought back to reality. He is painfully grounded to the situation when he looks at his children. Other days, like today, he thinks of you and prays for the days when he was younger and his biggest worry was gaining a dragon.

A thought he never expected to have.

Occasionally, he wishes he were Helaena. His sister has expressed the grief that comes with her visions, but Aemond would gladly switch places. If it is one thing their foolish father was right about, it is that the power of dragons is nothing compared to the power of prophecy. A dragon cannot makeup for the pure magic that has been left behind. Alys taught him that as well.

He pinches himself extra hard at thought of her.

If he could master the magic of his ancestors, he could go back and change so many things. He wonders how much good he could do… or how much damage.

Aegon does not bother to give Aemond a rebuttal to that comment. Just lets the easy smile he had on before reappear on his face. He can tell by the look on Aemond’s face that he is unraveling. Aegon might gotten their mother’s face, but Aemond got her ability to be a prisoner to their own thoughts.

“We just better hope not a single hair on her head is harmed while she is there.”

Aegon gets up and leaves after that. They important part is left unsaid and implied. I’ll come after you if she gets hurt. This is your fault.

Aemond knows his brother will just be one person in a line of people who would want his head if this all blows up in your face. That is alright.

Perhaps the brothers do have one thing in common. If something does happen, he just might beat everyone to the punch on that one.

You had expected Otto to tell Alicent about you going to Dragonstone. But, the worried look she gave you when you mentioned it told you otherwise.

It affirmed to you that he was going to leave his daughter in the dark for as long as possible. You could not decipher if it was for her feelings and safety or because he knew Alicent would shut down any activity that could be seen as treasonous to Rhaenyra’s claim.

It took Rhaenyra, who Alicent had convinced to stay a few more days, telling her that it was Baela and Rhaena’s idea to calm Alicent’s anxious attitude. Reiterating that it would be nice to have you and Daella around to balance out the male energy at Dragonstone. The lie slid out of Rhaenyra’s mouth with ease. She had given you a knowing look.

You knew better than to think Rhaenyra would tell Alicent it was because of Aemond, the reason she believes, but the easy nature in which she deceives Alicent does make you sad.

The easy nature in which everyone deceives Alicent makes you sad. And now even you are not above that.

To get rid of that sick feeling in your stomach, you convince yourself Alicent knows better than to believe everything that comes out of Rhaenyra’s mouth. The same way you believe Rhaenyra knows better than to tell Alicent the whole truth. This is how their relationship is. Half truths and arguments. Pining and pushing. You can tell by the way they smile at one another that in the end it will always be them for each other; lies and all.

Sadism and Masochism in a different kind of way.

“The King and I will miss seeing the kids,” Alicent remarked.

You had to hold back a grimace. Daella and Jaehaera would often go and see their grandsire, at his behest. Hear him ramble on and on about whatever he could remember that day; often old histories. Daella has told you she hated it because he ‘smelled foul’. The statement had made Aegon cry with laughter.

Viserys had only seen Alaric twice since his birth. The first time you had to drag Aemond with you. Juggling two big babies that day.

You had watched Aemond bite back a sneer the entire time. Even Alicent made a face when Viserys mumbled something about Alaric already having a warrior spirit like his father. You supposed you cannot blame them for their apprehension. The jovial tone of his voice nothing like what Aemond heard growing up. It only leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth.

You wanted to say Viserys’ delusions were illness driven, only getting worse with age. But he has always underestimated the damage he did with his kids. Viserys underestimates a lot of things.

The second time he saw Alaric, your sweet boy had decided to spit up all over the King. Then it was Aemond’s turn to laugh.

Viserys is so out of the loop. He seems to think your trip to Dragonstone was a testament to his grand showing for Rhaenyra. That his dinner speech moved you to the point of wanting to connect to the other of your husband’s family.

It is assumed that using Baela and Rhaena as a cover was not fully convincing to Alicent.

“Space can be a treasure at times,” Alicent whispered to you, squeezing your hand. “A new beginning once you get back.”

All you could do was hum in acknowledgment and try to smile. You cannot help but wonder how Alicent will respond if you get tangible proof that Rhaenyra had something to do with Alys. Would it ruin the move to reconciliation? Would it even matter by the time Rhaenyra is to take the throne?

If you cannot dwell too much; one foot in front of the other. The preparations to set sail with Rhaenyra were all prepped.

Your night was interrupted by a knock at the door. The knuckles on the door tapping to the tune of a Braavosi song you like. Aegon.

You have to bite back a smile. The two of you have not talked since the night of the dinner. It is a strange ordeal. Going from purposely ignoring each other’s existences to now a few days of not speaking feeling foreign. He sticks his head in with a sheepish look.

Men will always come back with their tails tucked between their legs when they think it is worth it

Your mother’s words playing your head. Instead of focusing Aegon, your mind drifts to Aemond. You know it is a point of contention for them, but it is hard not to compare them. Especially when they act so differently at times. To see Aemond grovel would be a sight. Perhaps he has before… just not for you.

He says nothing when he comes in, eyes fluttering over your pale blue night gown. You sigh, tying your robe around you. For all Aegon can be when he tries - sweet, observant, loyal to a fault. He’s still same boy in his bones; easily swayed by pretty things.

“Yes, Aegon?”

He still does not say anything, instead, he pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to you. Shy like a child trying to evade a scolding. You narrow your eyes at him, but still open the box.

Inside was dainty chain silver. Hanging from it was a bright yellow stone surrounded by pale pink ones. You shoulders slump. It’s beautiful, and entirely too much. Much like the man who is trying to give it to you.

“Is this your attempt at an apology,” you give a weak laugh.

“No,” he waves that notion off. “I am not going to apologize for vocalizing how bad of an idea I think this is. Though I know there is no stopping you once you set your mind to something.”

You know it would be hypocritical to judge Aegon and Aemond’s paranoia towards their older sister. She has not given them a reason to have faith in her. Neither has their uncle, who only seems to show up in moments of chaos. Those feelings are reciprocated by Rhaenyra and her family towards them.

“Think of it as more of a promise,” he walks towards to you, and the box suddenly feels like it weighs as much as a horse.

Chewing on the side of you cheek, you shake your head. “I cannot accept this Aegon. You are very kind but… I cannot.”

You never want to think the worst of people; even Aegon, who you have an admittedly rocky past with. It has never been your nature, till recently. Gifts leading to promises; promises leading to expectations you don’t know if you can handle. The affection of people in the Red Keep, especially the men, constantly wane.

It is hard not to blame your mother for how you feel right now. For every drop of wisdom she instilled in you, she left touches of fragility and fear. She made sure to reiterate the importance of having powerful people, specifically powerful men, in your corner but never explained what do to when the debt comes due.

It may not be what Aegon meant but these thoughts plague you often as loyalties shift. Even the most attentive, and helpful people want something in return. What happens when those expectations can not be met? Does the goodwill dry up?

Sensing your nerves, gently takes your wrist pulling you closer. “You are not alone in this. We are all here if you need to get out of there,” he pauses for a moment before cracking a smile. “Even Aemond would hop on Vhagar if something happened.”

You raise a brow, not knowing if this is him trying to cheer you up or if he genuinely believes it. You actually think the old beast probably likes you more than your husband most days. You hold back a shudder thinking about your first meeting with Vhagar. Beady eyes following you before huffing in approval. You remember the smell of sheep on her breath.

“She likes you!” Aemond seemed so happy she did.

Things were simpler back then. Mindless courting and no pain. You had fooled yourself into thinking everything would work itself out.

As if he heard you two speaking about him, the sounds of heavy boots echo through the halls.

As if a spell had been broken, Aegon lets go of your wrist giving you.

“Remember aim for the jugular or heart, and drive through.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. Criston had preached no mercy during their lessons, and it seems to be the only thing that stuck with Aegon.

Aemond interrupts you two by coming in, stopping in his tracks when he sees you both. He blinks blankly before sighing and going over to sit.

“Have fun with that,” Aegon whispers, before leaving.

You realize he never takes back the necklace. Think of it as a promise. He never told you what that promise was.

———

When Aemond was young, he over heard his grandsire speaking to his mother about him.

“You coddle him too much Alicent,” his voice gravely. “He is never going to grow up hiding beneath your skirts. It’s probably why he had not gained a dragon yet.”

She just stood and took it because that is what his mother always does when it comes to her father, or with Viserys. She had learned the art of taking everything and internalizing it. And then she wonders why he children do the same.

Aemond is master of it. He adds to the list of things he has grown quite good at. Along with his training with the sword, and his ability to retain things he learned through reading. Showing any emotion has only failed him over the years.

The only time he finds reprieve is at night.

The dreams tend to be the same each night. You standing over him, Dark Sister in hand, and unbridled hatred in your eyes. Aemond cannot call them nightmares in good faith; he finds them too entertaining for that. He does not know how you got the sword, but that is just another exciting part about the dreams. His mother did always say he had a morbid sense of humor.

The image of you having blade to him breaks up the monotony of life. In fact, he is sure he likes dream you more than the one he sees everyday. Dream you lacks the shiny luster that the real you carries. There is something so unapologetic about the look of disgust on your face. Some nights you slit his throat, quick and to the point. A merciful kill. Other times you take his other eye. The chambers ablaze; he sees and feels the heat before everything goes dark.

“Aemond, are you listening to me,” you sigh, breaking him out of his thoughts.

All he can do is look at you. You look ethereal, back lit by the fires throughout the room. Unwavering stares is all he can give you these days. In the early days of your marriage, you used to look away when the looks were to much. Now, you just stare back; eyes tired yet soft. Perhaps it is the inability for you harden yourself that makes the dreams so welcomed. He selfishly wants you to debase yourself the way he has. Aemond knows it is in there, but you are too smart to let it show in that way.

Maybe you will come back from Dragonstone, with untamed loathing in your heart, and Dark Sister attached to you. The spirits of the mad Targaryens that roam Dragonstone compelling you to snap. The dream you and the real one will merge into something terrifyingly beautiful.

What a way that would be to go.… in fire and blood.

The departure from King’s Landing went as smoothly as you could hope. Alicent and Helaena saw you off with sad smiles. The ship pulled off, and it felt like a momentary breath of relief. Sometimes you felt locked away in the King’s Landing

“Quite watchful, is she not,” Rhaenyra laughed. At first you thought she was speaking about Alicent. You turned towards the Red Keep to see Vhagar flying a comfortable distance behind. “She will turn back, right?”

You nod perplexed, watching as Daella waves at Vhagar.

You think back to laughing when Aemond asked if Daella would miss him, and she replied with a shrug and reminded him to feed Vhagar extra sheep while she is away. His sour disposition melts when she gives him a kiss on the cheek before she sprinted to say goodbye to her cousins. You try not to shift awkwardly when he kisses you on the cheek and tells you to be safe.

Eventually Vhagar does turn back, after circling the ship a couple of times.

You go to put Alaric down for a nap in one of the bottom room. When you first had him, his silence used to worry you. Often you found yourself leaning over his cot to see if he was still breathing. He sleeps like the dead, and stares as if he knows something you do not. The stare would be slightly menacing if it was not attached to such a cute face.

Ser Quinton comes in, and quietly closes the door. He looks as uneasy as you feel. He seems to share the same skepticism everyone has about this little getaway.

“You were right about Jayne,” his voice is low as he sits on the bed next to you. “She about the tunnels. Said she was a disciple of someone named Mysaria.”

The name is so familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

“How did you find that out?”

“Do you really want to know that,” he grimaces. The last time you saw Jayne, Quinton had lied to her and said the Queen wanted to see her. You are sure she went to the dungeons, where all the people who are accused of treason go. Your heart feels heavy at the thought of her being tortured.

It was a hard pill swallow. Jayne had been with you since Daella was born. How long had she been watching you for?

“I need you to promise me something,” you whisper to him. “If anything were to happen, I need make sure the kids are you first priority. Their safety is of the upmost importance… even if it means leaving me behind.”

Quinton frown deeply. “I am your protector, I would n-“

“And as my protector, I am asking you do this for me. Think of everything you feel for me, and do this please.”

You squeeze his arm. After a moment of silence, he nods solemnly.

You know when you have reached Dragonstone because smell is like nothing you have encountered before. Putrid almost. You thought the Red Keep was as somber as a place could get; you were terribly wrong.

The bright look that crosses Rhaenyra’s face makes you jealous. You often envious of the way the Targaryens around you moved. Viserys, despite being the king, had little care for things that did not benefit him. Aemond saunters into rooms like he owns it, Aegon followed his own rules to a fault. Rhaenyra seems to revel in the privilege that came with her name. Even Helaena had came into her own, embracing the things people see as odd.

You felt like your good was not good enough, but you think of what your father would tell you when you were young.

The best people are often underestimated, use that to your advantage.

And use it you will.

Taglist: @afro-hispwriter @blazzlynch @thenovelcarnival @lyra689 @savinasavers @cruelmissdior @lunablade @minttea07 @shintax-error @queenofshinigamis @httyd-marauders

#will add to ao3 soon I promise #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #Aegon ii x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

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jaidens · 7 months

Text

and at every table ill save you a seat, lover.

pairing [s] : college!sam winchester x reader

warning [s] : none! | cringey ngl..

a/n [s] : requests r open!!

You're sitting in the small booth in the corner. Taylor and her boyfriend are wrapped up together, smoothing their lips against each other as you sit there awkwardly.

The bar was the last place you had wanted to be that night as your final exam was next week, and you desperately needed to study. However, Taylor pushed you out the door dressed in a small t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

The season wasn't exactly itty-bitty clothes weather, but you couldn't protest against her. She was an unbinding force, on the contrary you loved her with your entire heart.

Taylor was an absolute genius with brains as well as a heart that she resided in. Her boyfriend, Chad Johnson, wasn't exactly the brightest, but you assumed she would rub off on him.

Recently, without fault, you had your eyes caught on a certain friend of Taylor's boyfriend, Sam Winchester. You knew he studied law and had interviews with many law firms. You had thought he was quite cute, with his shaggy brown hair that cascaded over his eyes.

He was in one of your literature classes which had caused your 98% to fall down to 85%. He had captured your attention and you weren't able to run away from his adorableness.

“SAM!” Taylor's boyfriend yells, but looks quite stupid with lipstick and gloss smeared across his face. “Get over here buddy!” Sam travels across the bar to the booth, hands shoving into his jean pockets.

He looks like a 1970s daydream with his hair shaggy and his heavy jacket. He gives a handshake to Chad before pointing at the spot next to you.

“Is that seat saved for anyone?” Sam asks. You shake your head and scoot over to give him more room.

“No, nobody's sitting here.”

He sits down next to you and turns his head at you. He gives you a small smile before returning to a conversation with Chad. Your eyes shamelessly fall onto the man sitting next to you. He shakes his head which lets his hair perfectly land against his face.

You feel seventeen again, staring at that boy on the varsity basketball team with absolutely gorgeous eyes and hair. Sam Winchester was beautiful, smart, and hilarious: what else did you need in a man? You and him only interacted so much. Throughout small gatherings or bonfires, you had barely seen him on campus or at parties.

—

You're in that same bar that you were fifteen years ago, sipping on a drink in that same booth. Through your friend group in college, most of them had moved away for better jobs and traveled away. You had stayed; finding a job in town and didn't need much more.

“Is that seat saved for anyone?”

You look up and see him again; shaggy hair and soft brown eyes. He has some hair on his face, more than he did years ago. His brother, Dean, stands next to him with a smile on his face.

“Sam Winchester... how did I not know you were in town? And, no, nobody is sitting here.” You ask and Sam leans down to hug you. You had always thought of him after that weekend in college. Jessica had told you how he disappeared after a camping trip with his Dad and Brother. You were sceptical of it, but you decided to not dig.

“I missed you.” Sam tells you as Dean attempts to ask you questions. “Kept a seat for me?”

Sam laughs alongside you. Dean looks upset at not being able to question you, but you could care less. Sam Winchester was back to wring you into your undeniable feelings you had for him. It didn't matter if you were thirty-five years old, he still made you feel seventeen.

“I’ll save a seat for you. Even if nobody was sitting there in the first place.”

#sam winchester x plus size reader #sammy winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sammy winchester x you #sammy winchester #sam winchester x y/n

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to-the-stars8 · 2 years

Text

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

25- Jason's Girlfriend and The Dark Knight

“What do you think she’s like?” Stephanie asked as she spun around in the chair in front of the bat computer. “Jason’s girlfriend, I mean.”

Tim, leaning against the table off to her side, snickered. “Probably smart-mouthed like Jason.” Damian nodded silently in agreement as he sharpened his swords next to him.

Duke paused his daydreaming to add in, “Dick said she was nice. Very down-to-Earth.” Cassandra then signed that she had heard the same about you.

Bruce listened to his three kids as he restocked the med-bay across the cave, thinking about what you were like, too. Jason said you were great, but Bruce knew everyone had different definitions of ‘great’--especially with rose-colored glasses on. Dick, though, was a social butterfly that inherently saw the good in most people, so it wouldn’t be too far off that if you had any malicious intent for his brother he could be oblivious to it. Your background check came back clean, not so much as a traffic ticket, but that could also mean you were good at hiding things.

Despite that, Bruce remembered the sincereness in Jason’s voice when he said you were great and the smile that followed after. Genuine content is what Jason seemed to have, a small sign that something was going good in his life. You couldn’t be that bad if you managed to make the most angsty of his children express some sort of happiness in front of him.

Stephanie suddenly gasped, grabbing the edge of the table to stop her spinning. She pointed at the camera showing the foyer. “She’s here!”

Bruce whipped his head around to look at the camera to see you just leaving out of frame with Jason following behind you. From what little he could see, he thought you were pretty, but beauty did not equal goodness.

The three of them took off upstairs, all clamoring about getting all the juicy gossip about their brother since Dick could only provide so little. Bruce slowly followed them, still slightly worried as any father would be.

You were in the living room after having left the kitchen, Jason next to you with an arm thrown behind your shoulders on the back of the couch. From what Bruce could see, you were startled at first by four teens and a little boy practically running up to you two. Jason tried shielding you from the crowd, but you welcomed it with as much grace as you could.

Surprisingly, you were quiet--Not silent, but your voice was softer than Bruce imagined. Why had he expected someone with more loudness considering that Jason was often soft-spoken himself?

When Bruce entered Dick instantly noticed him, quickly shutting everyone up to point out that their father was there. Loudly, Dick called out, “Bruce!” He turned to you. “Have you met Bruce? Brucie Wayne? The Dark Knight?”

Bruce moved toward the two of you, moving to take the free armchair right across from you. When you started to get up to shake his hand, he only told you that no formalities like that were necessary. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”

“You too,” He said, still astonished at how soft your voice was. “The drive over was okay?”

You nodded, while Jason snickered saying something along the lines that no one in Gotham could drive to save their lives. Leaning into him, you mumbled something that caused him to wrinkle his nose jokingly at you causing you to giggle a bit.

Bruce said your name and that got your attention, “Are you from Gotham?”

“Born and raised. I grew up not too far from here,” You stated with a grin. “Just a bit closer to the city.”

“Rich kid?” Stephanie asked teasingly.

You shook your head. “Not really. It’s a long story.”

“What do you think of animals?” Damian interjected before anyone else could get a chance to ask you a question.

Pretending to ponder on the question for a moment, you finally answered. “Love ‘em. Jay says you’re big on animals, like all of them.”

“I am, that information is correct.”

Tim finally got to ask his question before Damian went on his usual tangent about animals that bore anyone to death. “Do you work for any Gotham villains?”

“In this economy?” You were shocked, leaning back against the couch, a bit offended. “I wouldn’t be able to make rent.”

Bruce chuckled. “Then, what do you do for work?”

You smiled. “I work at Gotham University in the IT department. It’s easier to be at work and attend class when you work on campus.”

For the next half hour, Bruce and the others threw questions at you like you were being interviewed for a position at the house. Which, in a way, you were. Jason sat up next to you with pride as if to say yeah, you were awesome and his girlfriend. So far, Bruce had to agree with Dick and Jason. You were great, nice, and seemed normal compared to seven vigilantes and counting that were not around you. Which, in Wayne Manor, normalcy was so foreign.

Tim and Damian, who had quickly chalked up the idea of you being loud just because you were Jason’s partner, quickly changed their minds upon further talking to you. The three of you seemed to share the same common interests, and the ones you didn’t, you wanted to ask about. You seemed like a genuinely nice person who wanted to know the family Jason grew up in, which Bruce was more than pleasantly surprised with.

Eventually, when the questions had died down, you finally asked, “I was wondering, Mr. Wayne, do you have any pictures of Jay when he was a kid?”

Jason groaned. “I knew you were going to ask that!”

Bruce got up almost instantly, willing to show any pictures he had of little, chubby, and rosy-cheeked Jay to anyone who asked. Within minutes after disappearing he returned with several thick-bound photo albums. Everyone collectively groaned and now you felt like you bit off a bit more than you could chew.

“Why do I feel like I girl bossed a little too close to the sun,” You stated.

Jason leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Regret asking now?”

“No,” You grinned despite feeling a bit of regret. “I’m hoping there’s a picture of you in your red pill helmet.”

Every passing second Jason was regretting bringing home, but, at the same time, he felt it was so right.

Bruce slapped the top of the stack of books, grinning at you. “I’m having Alfred put on a pot of coffee now as we speak, this will take a while.”

#jason fluff #romance #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #robin jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #stephanie brown #damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #duke thomas

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smoments · 4 months

Text

✧ part 14: memories of a stranger // a satosugu reincarnation au

❝ let's meet again, for the first time. ❞

╰┈➤ in which 19-year old gojo satoru happens upon a stranger at a cafe who speaks his name with a kind of softness and familiarity that satoru’s sure he’s heard before.

➽ chapter 14: the transience of summer

“This is pretty smart, if you think about it. They have students make the art, set up the displays alone, and take everything down at the end. And then they get the money from the whole event!”

“Satoru, they do it primarily for your benefit. It’s a good way to expand your horizons and have professionals see your work.”

“Plus, what do you mean, alone? We were there too.”

Satoru hefts the canvas up above his head just to set it back down atop the set of stairs leading outside, exhaling dramatically and shooting them a wide grin. “You’re right! Whatever would I do without you two.” He pulls them into suffocating side-hugs, beaming like a proud parent when neither of them slap him.

After a second, Shoko swats at his shoulder in a request to be released and looks at him sideways when he relents, her gaze curious.

“I told you about that one guy, right? Who was, like, obsessed with your painting?”

“For real? First I’m hearing of this.”

She tilts her head at him apologetically, fighting a smile. “Oops, must’ve slipped my mind. But he owns a gallery somewhere over in Minato, and he wanted to display it there.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks.”

“Think you’ll do it?”

“That’s… Well, wait a second. I forgot to tell you guys, but I’ve been thinking deeply about my future lately,” he starts, looking around at his friends for shocked reactions and realizing he definitely expected too much when they simply meet his gaze with blank faces, “And I don’t think I want to be an artist.”

This part captures their attention; Suguru flinches back as though slapped, and Shoko gasps like he’s just admitted to locking a very artistic body double in his basement and forcing them to make all his paintings for him.

“Excuse me?”

He waves off their concern, speaking lightly and self-assuredly. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love painting and stuff, but do you know what I like even more than that?”

“Being a bad influence on others?” Shoko offers.

“Educating the youth!”

“Half points.” Suguru tells her sagely.

“My life is not a game show.”

He chuckles at this, lifting his shoulders in surrender.

“We never said you wouldn’t be a good teacher. I bet you’d keep things interesting, at the very least.”

“Yeah, and besides, you know we don’t really care what you do. Like, it’s whatever as long as you’re happy with it.”

He gives her an indulgently gratified look as Suguru walks over to the display, checking for any forgotten pieces of the setup. “Is it just me, or was that actually kinda sweet?”

“Yeah, obviously,” she responds, mildly offended.

“Satoru?”

In spite of its softness, Suguru’s voice has a way of attracting attention, and they both look over curiously, searching his face for the same surprise that was so clearly audible in his tone.

“What’s this?”

Satoru’s eyes widen when the cool light overhead catches on a glint of gold in Suguru’s grasp, and he lets out a shriek as Shoko covers her mouth to stifle a delighted laugh.

“Shoko! Get that away from him!”

“Can’t. I’m holding this.” She lifts the basket in her hands, which would have been haphazardly put together except that Suguru turned out to have a knack for arranging gifts. He’d turned pale when Satoru announced that it was finally ready and held it up proudly for him to see, insisting that he’d clean it up a little before giving it to Shoko (Satoru was greatly wounded by this until he laid his eyes on the final product and decided his pride was a worthy sacrifice for such a beautiful result).

“And what’s the issue, anyway? I like your poetry.”

“I told you already, it wasn’t my poetry! And it didn’t rhyme, either!”

“Thank you, Satoru.”

Satoru looks up sharply when Suguru finally speaks, his face aflame, and does his very best to sound unbothered.

“It wasn’t even anything. Really. I didn’t even write it.”

Suguru smiles back at him warmly, and he feels what he’s sure used to be clear, perfectly formed thoughts falling away and melting on the floor of his brain in a pool of mush. This is definitely not healthy. Luckily for him, Shoko sets a prompting hand on his shoulder, startling him back into clarity.

“I’ve gotta get back - an American singing show Utahime accidentally got us both hooked on is airing today. Thanks for all this, though.” She gestures to the basket in her grip. “My skin gets dry sometimes, especially in winter.”

“I knew it!”

“What?… Okay then, bye.”

“Bye, Shoko.”

He loses himself in thought as watches her turn to leave, pausing to whisper something to Suguru on her way to the door. She’s only just made it down the front steps of the gallery when he calls out to her.

“And- uh- sorry I didn’t take the time to say anything to you earlier.”

She slowly spins to face him, surprise written into the curves of her face and the part of her lips, and he meets her gaze with more earnestness than he’d ideally like anybody to associate with him.

“I’m trying to work on being more proactive and stuff. Not that it’s an excuse for being so dense about what you were going through. Anyway, you needed someone to talk to, I think. I should have been that for you. So… I’m sorry.”

Shoko stills, her throat bobbing visibly when she swallows, and she laughs with that casual ease that he’s come to know her for. It’s too high this time, though; almost like she’s nervous. And he didn’t expect his words to mean anything to her, because it wasn’t as though he could actually go back and fix his maddening lack of initiative, but her dark eyebrows are uncharacteristically taut with emotion, and she’s looking at him now with something like gratitude.

“Thanks, Satoru. It means a lot.”

She waves at them quietly, then continues on her way, her other hand coming up to support the weight of the basket in her grip and her fingers tightening ever-so-slightly around the handle. She glances down at the little cat that rests right at the top, a centerpiece among the overflowing snacks and hand-picked gifts packed into the large container, and it smiles complacently back at her with those dark, painted eyes as her own lips curve upward.

“What did Shoko tell you?”

Suguru is staring glassy-eyed into the wall like he’s just witnessed something unspeakable, and Satoru eyes him with concern.

“What…? Nothing. Just to have a good day.”

“Why would she only say that to you?” He asks bemusedly, his brow furrowed. His gaze trails down the collar of Suguru’s uniform to the item in his hand, and his heart skips a beat. He reaches over to pry his fingers off of the placard and tuck it into his own pocket, thanking his luck that Suguru is so out of it he barely notices.

“Let’s head out?”

“Yeah.”

He lets Suguru lead the way, fishing through his pocket and slipping out the smooth, shiny rectangle to get another look at it.

He wasn’t thinking when he wrote it, really; the words came to him in a dream. They didn’t feel like his, and he didn’t remember ever taking the time to put them together, but the raw emotion seemed to pour from them like water, a tidal wave that sent him to his knees with how deeply it resounded in his chest, and so he allowed them to grace the placard that ended up just below his treasured painting on the wall of the gallery. Even now, his breath catches when his eyes skim the small, engraved letters carved into the golden metal, and he picks up his pace to come to Suguru’s side, trying to ignore the incessant pounding of his heart.

to you, who bloomed and fell away like a fruitless flower.

even if these days fade away, they will remain forever colored.

“we’ll meet again, right?”

words spoken in an unheard voice. in the depths of eternity left behind. scattered within a sea of endless blue.

i’m sorry we couldn’t ever reach you.

Suguru shoots him a subdued glance as he rings the doorbell beside the wooden sign that spells out ‘Fushiguro’ in dark, neat letters, trying and failing to sound exasperated.

“We saw him last week, Satoru.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been missing that kid too. You mentioned him, like, four times yesterday. You were obviously hoping I’d pick up on the subliminal messaging behind your words and come here with you.”

The front door creaks open after a notable amount of time, and a pair of large, sharp eyes peek through the gap in the entrance. Megumi’s wary gaze finds Satoru first, and his expression drops. He moves to shut the door in their faces without appearing the slightest bit remorseful about it, but Satoru sticks his foot through the gap and eases it open before he has the chance.

“We came to hang out with you!” He announces gaily, beaming down at the child through his dark sunglasses.

“Don’t you have any friends your own age?” Megumi grumbles dispassionately, but allows him to push open the door without any voiced complaint. Satoru narrows his eyes, open hands gravitating towards Megumi’s mess of hair threateningly.

“This brat-”

Suguru cuts him off by stepping lightly on his foot, making him roll his eyes and press his lips together. “Yes, of course, Megumi, but we were hoping to take you somewhere if you have time. Would Tsumiki like to come too?”

Megumi looks at Suguru with a bit more tolerance - likely thanks in part to him putting Satoru in his place. Still, he averts his eyes as soon as he’s finished speaking, resignation settling on his features.

“I can’t. I have somewhere to be.”

Satoru crouches down so they’re at eye-level, giving him a suspicious once-over.

“And where’s that?”

“None of your business.” He looks vaguely embarrassed all of a sudden and drops his gaze to the ground. “But… I have to go to a… school meeting.”

“Going to school after school? Did you get in trouble? I knew the nerd act was all a show.”

When Megumi remains silent and fidgets with his hands nervously instead of giving him the scathing look he expected, Satoru’s mouth drops open.

“Wait, for real?”

Suguru speaks up as Satoru sits there gaping, his tone gently coercing.

“What happened?”

“I have to… I did something to this guy, but he deserved it.” When he catches the look of awe on both their faces, he continues with a touch more defensiveness. “Maybe you shouldn’t be a jerk if you don’t want to face the repercussions.”

Satoru knows Suguru has been teaching Megumi new vocabulary words on top of the knowledge he must amass from the books he always has his nose buried into, but he’s still unnervingly well-spoken for a seven year old. He nods slowly, pretending to be deep in thought, and then sighs like he’s just been requested to do something horribly strenuous.

“Okay, okay, sit down and walk us through it.”

Satoru strolls past the elementary schooler and into the house, making himself at home on the small couch in the living room. Megumi gives him a look, but follows him inside silently, leaving the door ajar for Suguru to enter too.

After receiving a slightly more detailed account of the situation that leaves him feeling equal parts proud and disbelieving of the seemingly innocuous child in front of him, Satoru snaps his fingers, beaming.

“Suguru, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“God, I hope not.”

“Megumi… you just need parents, right?”

Suguru immediately understands his intentions and returns his meaningful look with a warning one.

“Satoru.”

“It’s fine! As long as they’re not, like, homophobic. And see? He looks just like us!”

He leans down next to Megumi, who is seated between them, and grins, poking his cheek in an attempt to squish his face into a smile while he struggles to get away.

“They don’t just let you do whatever, you know. I’m sure they’ll check for identification of some sort. And besides, Megumi probably doesn’t want-“

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Really?!”

Megumi rubs his cheek, which is slowly returning to its normal color, and sighs heavily.

“It’s fine. It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“Woah, don’t get too excited there, kid.”

“And you two are… Megumi’s parents?”

His teacher, a kind-looking young woman with blond hair cut to her chin, looks uncertainly at the odd group before her - and Satoru can’t really blame her, because he and Suguru are quite clearly college students and barely old enough to drive, let alone have a seven-year-old child.

“Yes, but we really do just love him so much, and we only want what’s best for him, so I hardly think this conversation-“

Suguru cuts off his tirade with a picturesque smile, his tone agreeable.

“That’s right. Thank you for having us here. There was something you wanted to discuss?”

She shuffles the pile of test papers on her desk hesitantly, the tips of her fingers brushing the width of the stack, and then sets it down again and dips her head in acknowledgement, bringing her hands together primly. A folded paper name tag rests next to them with Ms. Nitta written in neat print and bordered by colorful, doodle-esque flowers and hearts.

“Right. So, based on what we’ve gathered from his classmates’ accounts, Megumi has been getting into fights on school property.”

Satoru bites back an ‘is he winning’ and instead gasps dramatically, putting an affronted hand to his heart as though the very idea is unthinkable. Anyway, didn’t Megumi say ‘guy’, as in singular? He was definitely not properly prepared for this. Suguru, on the other hand, is playing the role of concerned parent a little too well, especially considering his earlier protests.

“My darling child would never-“

“Was he provoked? Was it well-deserved?” Suguru inquires. “You see, I don’t think he’d go around starting trouble without reason.”

Satoru tilts his head toward him, slightly surprised at how reasonable a question it is, and Ms. Nitta clears her throat awkwardly.

“Well, perhaps, but that’s quite besides the point. You can imagine a parent’s reaction to their kid coming home all beaten up. Still… he does tend to gravitate towards those who are… aggressively inclined.”

“See? Case closed,” Satoru exclaims triumphantly, throwing up his hands. “He’s just beating up losers. He’s basically a superhero.”

She wrinkles her brow, confusion apparent on her face. “Even if we were to gloss over the other things, I’m afraid that’s not it. Megumi is undoubtedly a very smart kid, but he has some trouble getting along with his peers.”

“Aw, yeah, he’s our antisocial little… guy. He takes after this one.”

He jabs a thumb at Suguru, whose eye twitches in annoyance. He directs a tight, closed-eye smile at Ms. Nitta.

“Yes, and he gets all his agreeability from Satoru here.”

“Are you saying my son is disagreeable?! How dare you!”

“He’s fifty percent my son, too.”

“Well, I carried him for nine months, so I think I deserve at least fifty-one percent!”

“You carried him? Nobody decided that!”

“Yeah, ‘cause it was obvious that-“

“If we could keep personal matters out of the discussion…”

“Please.” Megumi agrees, making no effort to mask the disgust on his face.

“You sure this is the right classroom, right, Yuuji? Damn it-“ The sound of a rattling door knob and muffled swearing pulls them from their heated argument regarding the rightful custody of their non-rightful child, and Satoru squints at the door before leaning in to whisper to Suguru.

“Does he have… tattoos on his face?”

“Ah - this is one of Megumi’s classmates. He requested to be here today.” Ms. Nitta explains, moving swiftly to the door and turning the lock on the knob. She holds it open for them to enter, smiling down at Yuuji, who trots in second. The tattooed man gives her a gruff nod of thanks as his eyes travel the room indifferently, double-taking when he notices Megumi sitting between them.

“Fushiguro?” He nudges Yuuji with his elbow, leaning down to hiss at him in what is quite a poor excuse for a whisper. “You didn’t tell me Fushiguro would be here.”

“I did, ‘kuna,” he protests, indignant. “You were busy playing video games.”

“Huhh? I don’t think so. Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

Ms. Nitta looks to Yuuji questioningly as he and his acquaintance take seats in the tiny plastic chairs usually reserved for her elementary schoolers. Her doubtful eyes flick to the latter, who crosses his legs importantly as the bright yellow plastic squeaks beneath his weight.

“And… are you Yuuji’s father?” She winces at the thought.

“Nah, I’m his brother,” he replies, making a barely perceptible amount of effort to incline his tone towards politeness.

“Big brother,” Yuuji adds unnecessarily. “His real name is Sukuna, but I think he prefers ‘kuna.”

“I absolutely do not, brat.” He glares down at Yuuji, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks, and Ms. Nitta clears her throat.

“So, you had something you wanted to say for Fushiguro?”

“Yes!” Yuuji’s hand shoots into the air enthusiastically. He lets it hover, waiting for stated permission to speak, and she gestures for him to continue. Sukuna rolls his eyes at Yuuji’s behavior, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Fushiguro didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Itadori-” Megumi tries self-consciously, and frowns when Yuuji waves him off.

“No! These annoying brats were bothering Junpei, and Fushiguro took care of them!”

“Whaddya mean, ‘took care of them’? He’s seven.” Sukuna replies disbelievingly. “Not some, like, old war hero-veteran.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah, exactly. You better not be beating people up, either.”

“But you beat people up.”

“Right. Because I’m a grown-up.”

Suguru appears slightly troubled at this particular thread of logic, but thinks better of voicing his concerns. “…Right. Megumi is good to go, then?”

Ms. Nitta lifts her eyes to the ceiling, apparently quantifying the emotional turmoil of having to listen to their side conversations against that of explaining to a livid parent that the child who beat up their own (rightfully, but they wouldn’t hear that) was running free without consequence. Eventually, she settles on the latter of the two evils.

“You all can be free to leave if you promise that this won’t happen again? I’d rather avoid any more trouble, and-“

The unpleasant screech of shoes against linoleum cuts her off, and they all look with interest at the young girl standing resolutely in front of the classroom door, her shoulders heaving with the effort expended on her run over. She blows a bothersome strand of brown, chin-length hair out of her face and opens her mouth to make a resounding declaration to the room that leaves little room for argument.

“Fushiguro didn’t do anything! He’s not even that strong! I bet I could beat him up.”

“If you notice any bullying in the future, just talk to me, okay, Megumi? You can’t cancel out violence with violence, can you?”

Ms. Nitta smiles, patting him gently on the head and confirming Satoru’s suspicions that resisting the gravitational pull of that porcupine hair is next to impossible.

“No, ma’am.” Megumi mutters, embarrassed. Despite his grouchy insistence that his friends didn’t need to show up for him and he would have been fine just dealing with the consequences of his actions all on his own, Satoru can tell from the lingering softness in his gaze that he’s grateful to them for stepping in.

The brief walk back to Megumi’s house passes mostly in silence. They wave him off at the entrance to his house, and he returns the gesture half-heartedly, offering them a rare smile before stepping inside and quietly shutting the door behind himself. Satoru grins to himself, warmth enveloping his body at the small act.

It goes without question that they've grown attached to Megumi in the few months they've known him - it would have been hard not to, really. He's the kind of person whose kind nature melts right through the ice around his words, his occasional moments of naivety made to feel even more precious against the dark, impenetrable backdrop of his mind.

Satoru was never so fond of children, in all honesty; as a teenager, he thought them annoying, a sentiment heightened by the resentment that welled up within him whenever he caught a glimpse of a clearly well-loved child laughing in the arms of a parent, pant knees grass-stained and clothes streaked with dirt. How could their parents still want to hold them when they looked such a mess? What had they done to elicit such affection? And what had he done wrong not to?

Satoru had always wondered if the reason that he remembered his childhood as being so lonely in spite of how many people starred in it was his ungratefulness. Maybe it really wasn't so bad. Maybe he was just a brat. There was always food on the table, after all. He was always taken care of - sometimes to the point of feeling suffocated by it. So why couldn't he stand to speak to his parents, even now?

Children brought up uncomfortable feelings. He preferred to avoid them.

But Megumi was tolerable. Not because of his independence, necessarily, but because of his goodness. It was clear that he didn't have it easy. But it was also clear that his struggles weren't rooted in some misdeed he'd committed.

How could he look at this seven-year-old child and blame him for the situation he was in? How could he even think for a second that it might be his fault?

He couldn't.

And if he couldn't do it to Megumi, he couldn't do it to himself.

So, at his most selfish, he enjoyed being around Megumi because it healed something inside him.

And somewhere along the way, it dissolved into the kind of warm affection he never thought he could feel for what was supposed to be some random kid.

Such emotional vulnerability frightened him, though, especially because theirs was a bond that seemed so precarious; each unpleasant reminder that he wasn't really theirs brought a pang to his chest. They had no real connection to him, no matter how Satoru might have tried to pretend, and no matter that his teacher now believed they were his parents. He had his own life that didn't involve them, and if he decided that he didn't want them to be part of it, that it had been fun while it lasted, but he had better things to do now, then that was it.

He would rather not consider that such an event might come to fruition. And it probably won't.

That's right- Suguru won't be so rash. He won't let his mind be clouded by emotion.

Suguru will tell him he's being ridiculous.

Satoru locks eyes with the only other person who might be able to understand the mess of emotions swirling in his chest, and immediately senses that he’s following an identical train of thought. So when Suguru speaks up, his voice soft, he isn’t particularly surprised.

“You think it’ll always be like this?”

Satoru wants to reply with the kind of incredulity he doesn’t feel; he wants to say that of course it will, that everything will turn out okay, that all of them will stay just like this forever. Instead, he lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug.

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

They linger on the sidewalk for a second without breaking the silence that now hangs in the air between them, the spring breeze tender against their skin. And then, Suguru clears his throat, straightening up abruptly like he’s just come back to himself.

“We’re loitering.”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Loitering is dumb. What does that even mean?”

He lets out a breath of laughter, and Satoru’s mouth twitches into a grin at the gentle familiarity of the sound, fondness coursing through his chest. Then, a flash of movement in his peripheral vision directs his attention to the entrance of Megumi’s house, where a crack has now emerged in the doorway, and he blinks, wondering if he’s seeing things until a small head pokes through the gap and calls out to them in that characteristically monotonous tone.

“You said Tsumiki can come next time, right?”

It takes a moment for him to process Megumi’s words, but the second he does, a beam spreads over his face. He elbows Suguru in a way that comes off as more excited than smug like he intended, then looks over at him and finds himself unable to drag his eyes away from the wide-eyed relief on his face- even though it’s an expression that is almost certainly mirrored on his own.

When he remembers that he still has yet to respond, Satoru coughs and turns away, lifting a hand to wave at Megumi, and wonders why he feels so unexpectedly sappy when he wasn’t at all worried in the first place.

“As long as it’s not another one of your behavioral conferences, sure.”

He and Suguru exchange a fond look as Megumi rolls his eyes and shuts the door once more.

#jjk #satosugu #crying screaming throwing up #geto suguru #gojo satoru #ao3 fanfic #coffee shop au #fanfiction #alternate universe #archive of our own #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen

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yanderedreaming · 2 years

Text

Baby don’t cry

Pairings: Fem!reader and Chrollo Lucilfer

Warnings: Stalking, implied manipulation, murder, smut.

Summary: y/n’s been having the worst luck with men. No man seems to stick around other than her friend Chrollo Lucilfer who’s always been there for her.

Word Count: 3k

MDNI

Chrollo Lucilfer was the one constant man in your life. He was the perfect example of how a man should be; kind, gentle, caring and chivalrous. The one man who would come to you whenever you were feeling low, prioritising you over all else. Each time a new guy you liked ghosted you and you never heard from them again, you’d go right back into Chrollo’s warm embrace, and he would reassure you telling you they weren’t worth it, that you should give up and focus on yourself instead. The right one would just walk into your life and you wouldn’t even realise it until it happens.

Every time it happened you’d question yourself, what was it about you that drove men away? Why does it always happen? The questioned plagued your thoughts and you were slowly giving up on love, remembering what Chrollo had told you. Your dependence on Chrollo also grew, you felt safe with him. The feeling of being watched all the time would subside when you were with him, the feeling of not being enough subsided when you were with him which is why when he told you he would be gone for 3 months for a business trip your heart broke, you felt anxious.

The time when Chrollo wasn’t there was sad at best, you dove into work and would go for drinks with a co-worker occasionally. Never once entertaining a person of the opposite gender knowing how it would end anyway. You had given up hope, maybe you were destined to be an old cat lady?

Just as Chrollo had said that you would find someone and not even know until it happens. You found Andrew, a new co worker, he was by all means perfect, you had allowed him into your life because he was your co-worker and never expected things to end up the way that they did but they did. You were finally in a stable relationship, you couldn’t wait to tell Chrollo!

You waited for your friend to return from his business trip, he wasn’t much of a texter so you didn’t bother. It wasn’t until he returned that you introduced him to Andrew, the two hit it off quite well and you couldn’t be happier. Chrollo was happy for you, and told you you deserved to be with someone who made you happy.

On your 6 month anniversary with Andrew he broke up with you. Your heart shattered. The Andrew you knew was just a façade, apparently he got with you to make his ex jealous and it worked, she wanted him back and you were dumped in the process. He left you standing there, your body paralysed. You didn’t know how long it had been since Andrew walked away, you just wallowed in self pity your feet moving on their own to go back to find that warm embrace that always made you feel better, hence, how you ended up in Chrollo’s penthouse.

As soon as he opened the door you crashed into his arms and broke out in a sob, holding him tight just to feel the warmth once again. “Y/n, please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see tears in your beautiful eyes.” Chrollo spoke, his hand caressing your hair while the other pulled you close into a tight hug. “Chrollo I- I can’t. Why di-did it happen? Am I not g-good enough?” You spoke in between sobs your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt for support as you lifted your face from his chest to look into his eyes. It was as if he knew this was bound to happen, it was quite the common occurrence at this point. “Y/n, I know its hard. That b*stard never deserved you. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and everything a man could ask for. If I was your boyfriend, I’d never make you cry. Heck, I’d rush to marry you.” He continued, “Don’t shed your tears for someone who’s undeserving of them. I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me.”

Each word that Chrollo spoke was laced with authenticity and care. You could tell, his voice was always soft when he spoke to you, his arms always open for you. As attractive as he was, he never once gave into any flirting attempts made by any one of the women that flocked around him, his eyes were always on you. Were you missing something? Was it because of you? The sudden realisation hit you and you couldn’t help but wonder and to test the waters you inched forward. It was now or never.

You inched forward, slightly closing your eyes setting them on his plump lips waiting for him to close the gap which he hesitantly did so. The moment his lips touched yours you felt a wave of relief flush over you, the feeling was amazing, the chemistry was already there.

He started to move his lips softly and you moved yours in unison parting them slightly to allow his tongue to enter in your mouth, the kiss deepened and your lips move on their own trying to savour each second of this passionate kiss, your tongue exploring his mouth and your hands running through his black locks. Both of his hands made their way to your back and he pulled you in closer, your bodies pressed up against one another. He broke off the kiss and started kissing your neck, sucking each spot lightly leaving a trail of hickeys along the way, you were quick to get rid of his shirt wanting to jump right in, the heat of the moment clouding your judgement.

Chrollo unzipped your black dress and turned you around wrapping his arms around your waist, your back pressed against his chest as he slid the strap of your little black dress and placed soft kisses on your shoulder your hand grabbed the back of his neck to push it in as a form of encouragement. His erection poked your back, your back arching slighting to let the dress fall down, as soon as it did, he was quick to close the gap and deepen the tight embrace.

You turned back around and pulled him into another deep kiss, his hands made their way to your ass as he whispered “jump” in your ear, you then wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss in the process as he walked towards the direction of his bed room lightly throwing you down on the bed and immediately getting on top of you. He began to retrace the hickeys he had left on your neck, going further down this time to your cleavage, he licked his lips as he pressed your breasts together kissing them.

You moaned his name and rubbed the back of his head pushing it deeper into your cleavage wanting more. Chrollo stopped for a second and got back up, running his hands through his hair he turned away from you, you hoisted yourself up on your elbows and asked, “What’s wrong?” concern lacing your voice, wondering if he wasn’t interested anymore.

“y/n, I can’t do this. You’re too fragile, I feel as if I’m taking advantage of your emotional state.” he said and he turned to look at you, his eyes scanning your body as he bit his lips, “Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’ve wanted to be with you since the day I met you. I’ve been hopelessly in love with you, but I don’t want you to think of me as an a** for trying to fuck you when you’re down” He said rubbing his palms on his face.

“You’re not taking advantage of anything Chrollo. I want you. I need you.” you said, he looked at you, his grey eyes locked with your own, he took a step towards you before he stopped and asked, “I need you to say it. Explicitly say it.” you got up from your position and placed his hand on your chest and spoke in response, “Chrollo Lucilfer. I want you to fuck me.”

As if impulse was the driving factor, his hand squeezed your breast lightly, every fibre of his being was telling him to rip your bra off and to start sucking your breasts. His eyes darting from your face to your chest and as if he was mentally scolding himself his hand started to slowly withdraw. “I’m in love with you y/n. I really am. Heck, i’m madly in love with you. I can’t see anyone but you and-“ he paused to take a deep breath, “I don’t want you to give into carnal desire and just do it for the sake of it. I can’t risk losing you” his voice trailed off while he spoke the last part.

Y/n’s lips parted ever so slightly and she said, “Chrollo. I never tried anything because I valued you so much. I’ve always been attracted to you but was scared of losing you too. This isn’t carnal desire, this is me being brave enough to take a step.” Your voice was low, but loud enough for him to hear. His face lit up hearing those words and he rushed forward to kiss you once again, hearing you express your feelings was all he wanted.

He pushed you on the bed and ripped your bra off, pausing for a second to take in the view before lowering himself to start placing kisses all around your right breast while massaging the left. He kissed and sucked every inch of your breast before stopping right near the nipple, slowly licking around it before lightly brushing his lips on your nipple as his mouth hovered over it.

He parted his mouth to take it in, swirling his tongue around it while gently sucking, slowly he took more of your breast in his mouth and continued that motion earning a moan from you in response. Your breasts were a big erogenous zone for you, the way he was sucking them was getting you wetter by the second. Chrollo’s eyes looked up to see your face, your eyes were lidded and your lips parted, small moans leaving them. Knowing how your breasts were the key to your arousal, he turned to face the next one, mimicking the actions he did on the other one. He released your left nipple, a popping sound emitting as a result and grabbed both of your breasts squeezing them together before gently kissing the centre and moving down to kiss your stomach.

He left light kisses there knowing you were rather ticklish and didn’t want to risk ruining the mood. His hands grabbed your clothed core and began rubbing the fabric right where it was. He lowered your panties and grabbed either one of your legs placing them on his shoulder before his hands made their way to your hips to hold you in place, his tongue then started by giving you a big lick on your core, swirling around your clit before taking it in his mouth sucking it lightly, his tongue working in circular motions to stimulate it. He brought one of his hands down to insert two fingers in your core while the other made its way to grab your breast, massaging it lightly. You placed one hand on his head, lightly grabbing a fistful of hair while the other rested on the hand that was on your breast encouraging him to continue massaging them.

His fingers pumped inside you slowly before exploring your core trying to find that one spot that would be enough to drive you over the edge, once he found it he curled them up and started working his magic, the orgasmic feeling intensified with each pump, his mouth sucking your clit just right and the hand on your breast had started to tighten its grip when he felt your back arch knowing you were close. He worked his magic on all fronts until your grip on his hair tightened and you said, “Don’t stop” the wave of pleasure took over you and you let out a loud moan as you came.

Taking a breath of two you started to get up, grabbing Chrollo by his pants and taking them off along with his boxers. His throbbing cock was out now and your eyes widened, you never imagined he would be this big, well endowed was an under statement, swallowing whatever spit you had in your mouth, your hand made their way to grab his dick, but before you could do that he grabbed you by the wrists and pinned you back on the bed.

“No, I can’t wait any longer” he said, positioning himself on top of you, your genitals aligning. He rubbed his cock on your entrance, to coat it with your cum sliding it up to your clit rubbing it slightly before bringing it back down right in front of your entrance.

“Are you ready, love?” He asked with his tender voice. You nodded and he lowered his face to place a soft kiss on your lips right as he entered you. A wave of pleasure came over you and you let out a small moan, Chrollo grunted when his cock was fully inside, he was careful to slide it in slowly, a few small thrusts to get you used to the size.

“You can pick up the pace now.” You said, finally used to his size and he started thrusting in you a little faster each time. You moaned each time you felt his tip kiss your cervix, knowing you liked it fast, he picked up the pace till he was thrusting in you like there was no tomorrow, you were a moaning mess by this point.

“Fuck, Chrollo, God, Omg” was all you could say, with your hands firmly on his back, your nails were digging in the skin of his back but neither one of you could care less. You were just enjoying the feeling, the sensation of Chrollo deep inside you.

Chrollo stopped just as he was close, taking his cock out he picked you up and placed you on the table, your legs fell on either side of his and he entered you once again. This time thrusting deep as soon as he entered, the flat surface table stopped your movement allowing him to hit you deeper and harder. If you were a moaning mess before, you don’t even know what you were now.

He placed his hands on your waist and held you firmly in place fucking you even harder than before if that was even possible, leaving you babbling incoherently. Chrollo’s hands moved from your waist to your back as he pulled you forward, you moved your legs to grab his waist, your ass still positioned on the table, he arched your back and placed one hand on your back to arch it while the other made its way to the back of your neck pulling it down. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and sucked on it while still thrusting inside you.

The feeling of his thick cock filling you along with the sensation you felt while he sucked your breast pushed you over the edge once again, your walls tightened and you came once again. Shortly after Chrollo’s cock began twitching and you knew he was about to come too. A few more thrusts and he came inside of you. His hot seed filled you up completely and he grunted loudly as he did. He thrusted deep once more before pulling his cock out a second later.

Chrollo picked you up and placed you on the bed, handing you a wet wipe to clean up, as he did the same. After which he got into bed right next to you and pulled you in a tight embrace. He kissed your forehead and said, “I love you y/n. I want to be with you. So, what do you say? Will you be mine?” His grey eyes were fixated on yours, you stared at him deeply and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before replying, “yes” Chrollo smiled and started to kiss you all over your face, he was ecstatic to say the least.

He knew just how drained you were which was confirmed when you fell asleep in his arms slowly after. Chrollo smiled to himself, feeling as is he had the biggest victory of his life, the treasure he wanted the most was finally his and nothing could take it away from him.

He was upset that it couldn’t happen sooner, and that you gave yourself to that scum, Andrew, but it didn’t matter, heck, it was actually something that helped him, all those times he watched the two of you make love allowed him to pick up on a lot of things, he knew what you liked in bed. He knew what you wanted in a relationship and was able to give you just that, anything to keep his love happy. Shalnark’s ability came in handy when it was time to finally get you to run to him once again. This time he was certain he wouldn’t let you go, the jealousy he felt when you were with Andrew made him promise himself he would never let you into another man’s embrace ever again.

His phone screen lit up, and he grabbed it, the message from Shalnark read, we’ve disposed of him. A smile adorned his face as he turned to look at your sleeping frame. Getting rid of all those men was certainly worth it, the love of his life was now sleeping soundly in his arms.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo smut #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader

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