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#just the idea of him fretting over every little thing with me as well as the idea of him holding me tight up against his big warm chest đŸ„șđŸ„ș
sadnymi · 3 days
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「 ✩ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✩ 」
[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle-Regulus Black]
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‱Mattheo Riddle
1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.
2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.
3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)
4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...
5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).
6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."
7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you."  _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._
8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.
9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.
10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.
‱Theodore Nott
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1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.
2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).
3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.
4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.
5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.
6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."
7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".
8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.
9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.
10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).
‱Lorenzo Berkshire
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1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.
2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"
5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.
6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.
7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.
8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.
9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .
10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.
‱Draco Malfy
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1. Denial is a River in Egypt:  His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test
 anything to pierce his denial bubble.
2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.
3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.
4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.
5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).
6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.
7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.
8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.
9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.
10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.
A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:
Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.
“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.
This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an
 interesting adventure.
‱Tom Riddle
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1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.
2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.
3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.
4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.
5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."
6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.
6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.
7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...
8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.
9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.
10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?
‱Regulus Black
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1. Denial Dance: Regulus might stammer, "No, no," backing away like a cornered cat. This isn't about you; it's pure terror. Don't take it personally.
2. Touch-Starved Panic: You reach for his hand, but he flinches. Give him space for now.
3. The Talk: Regulus might utter the dreaded words, "You need to get rid of it." This comes from a place of fear for the child, not for himself.
4. Mama Bear Mode Activated: Your eyes widen. "No, Reg!" you declare, ready to defend your little bean.And It might be the wake-up call he needs. Witnessing your distress could trigger his protective side.
5. Black Family Fears: Regulus might unload about the Black family legacy, a breeding ground for misery. He fears bringing a child into that darkness."This family
 it's torture. A child here wouldn't stand a chance." This is Regulus' way of expressing his fear for your child growing up under the Black banner. He might confess his fear of becoming his parents.
6. Us Against the World: You counter with, "It's our baby, Reg. We'll protect him/her." This might be the turning point.
7. Surprise: Regulus, in a rare show of vulnerability, pulls you into a hug. Hold him tight. He needs reassurance as much as you do.
8. Fearful Love: He might apologize, admitting he's scared for you and the baby. Reassure him you're in this together.
9. Escape Plan Hatched: Regulus suggests raising the child away from the Black family's clutches. This might be the most un-Regulus thing ever, and a good sign.
10. Surprise Dad Mode: Fast forward a few months. Regulus, who "didn't want" the baby, is secretly buying tiny clothes and setting up a nursery. And suddenly, bedtime stories and tea parties are in his future.
“Daddy's Little Girl”The moment he finds out it's a girl, prepare for a meltdown (of the happy kind!).
The magic deepens when your daughter recognizes his voice from within the womb. Witnessing the connection between them, a shared language before she even arrives, will fill your heart.
Late nights spent with Regulus talking softly to his daughter, his voice thick with newfound love, will paint a picture of a future you never dared to dream of. Maybe, just maybe, this family you're creating is exactly what Regulus craved – a love that defies darkness and a happiness he deserves.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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writingsbychlo · 1 year
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HOME TO US | rhysand
summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.
word count; 12,151
notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.
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Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.
Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode. 
Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed. 
Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen. 
‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.
A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully. 
“Hello?”
“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”
The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”
“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”
Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?” 
“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get
 concerned,” 
Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him. 
“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”
Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected cafĂ©. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”
The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.
“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand. 
“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”
A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper. 
“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.
“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”
“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”
“Are you sure-”
“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks. 
“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”
She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.
How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it. 
In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up. 
When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.
Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.
As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind. 
If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.
They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.
Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys. 
One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.
Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up. 
“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”
Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the reputation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too. 
The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap. 
At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart. 
His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again. 
“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”
“Yeah
” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself. 
“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.
“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”
“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. 
“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office. 
The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”
You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”
“Well, uhm
” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so
 pissed. 
“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so
 well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly. 
“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”
“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two. 
“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”
There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder. 
Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”
She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot. 
Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.
Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose. 
“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”
“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”
The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”
For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”
Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by. 
From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again. 
“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”
Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”
“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”
You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.
“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”
“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”
“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”
Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn. 
In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”
You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it. 
Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain. 
Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper. 
Your words had to be chosen carefully.
“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go. 
“Does he make you smile?”
“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.
“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment. 
“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”
“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.
“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground. 
“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”
If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.
Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”
“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?” 
He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”
She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”
With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.
Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.
As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”
Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you. 
“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”
His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way. 
“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.
He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back. 
“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”
At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”
“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”
He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him. 
When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”
“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!” 
Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor. 
Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”
“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”
“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.
Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair. 
Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.
“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”
He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath. 
“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”
“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.
Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath. 
“Thank you.”
“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.
“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”
You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”
He blinked, once. “What?”
“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”
He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”
“Okay
” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”
“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”
Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.
Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”
“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise. 
You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore. 
Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal. 
As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship. 
Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right. 
The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.
“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”
“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion. 
“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.
“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.
“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further. 
“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”
Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”
“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”
“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back. 
“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”
“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.
“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”
You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you. 
By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”
“I’m the boss.”
“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction. 
“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”
He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.
Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.
It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.
The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.
He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.
Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”
He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.
There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.
By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble. 
“You pick what you want, bud?”
Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”
The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”
“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back. 
“It was your favourite last time.”
“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you. 
“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop. 
“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”
“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it. 
“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe. 
Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile. 
“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”
“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free. 
You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.
Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture. 
Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.
‘My loves’.
“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.
Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.
You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.
“You ate some of my ice-cream?”
“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him. 
“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked. 
“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile. 
“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”
He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.
You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face. 
You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.
His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”
“Payback is a
 well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.
“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”
“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back. 
Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.
You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed. 
The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast. 
The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”
“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”
“It’s half sugar!”
“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.
Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”
“I have some very important work to do-”
“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves. 
When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.
The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.
“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”
“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.
“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.” 
Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom. 
You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out. 
“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure. 
Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.
Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times. 
All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh. 
He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours. 
He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide. 
So, you did. 
You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags. 
It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life. 
When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.
The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch. 
“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”
You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.
“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk. 
“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”
“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”
“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.
Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up. 
Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat. 
“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”
You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.
At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.
You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would. 
When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him. 
He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should
 you should get our boy home.”
At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?
“You okay, Rhysie?”
He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”
Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”
“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke. 
You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”
“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”
That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”
His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips. 
“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”
“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”
“Rhys
” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling. 
“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly. 
“So, we became friends
”
“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”
Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.
“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t
 we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.” 
His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own. 
“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything clichĂ©, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.
“I had no idea.”
“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”
You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”
“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.
“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”
“You chose us.”
“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”
“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him. 
“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly. 
“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t. 
You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.
“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”
You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”
“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”
The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”
“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.
“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”
“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match. 
He was perfect. 
“Hurry home to us, darling.”
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guacamoleroll · 2 months
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ÉȘᮛ ᎏɎʟʏ ᎛ᎀᎋᎇꜱ ᮀ ᎛ᎀꜱ᎛ᎇ · ᎍ᎜ʟ᎛ÉȘ᎘ʟᎇ ʙꜱᎅ ᎄʜᎀʀᎀᎄ᎛ᎇʀꜱ àŒ‰â€§â‚ŠËš
featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.
author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.
but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.
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𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.
But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.
You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.
His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"
You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.
"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."
Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.
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𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.
Wait. He can't dream.
He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.
"Babe."
"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"
His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.
You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."
He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.
So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."
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𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.
With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.
The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.
"Eat."
He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.
So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.
"Delicious, as always, ĐŒĐŸŃ ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ°Ń."
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𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.
"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.
"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!
"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.
Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"
He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."
"ĐšĐŸĐ»Ń," you deadpanned. "That's too much."
He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.
For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.
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𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.
"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.
"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.
You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.
"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"
You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.
You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.
"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.
"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."
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ĐŒĐŸŃ ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ°Ń = my dear ĐșĐŸĐ»Ń = kolya
áŽ›áŽ€ÉąÊŸÉȘꜱ᎛: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners
© ÉąáŽœáŽ€áŽ„áŽ€áŽáŽÊŸáŽ‡Ê€áŽÊŸÊŸ 2024 — ᮅᮏ ɮᮏᮛ ᎄᎏ᎘ʏ ᎏʀ ʀᎇ᎘ᎏꜱ᎛ ᎍʏ áŽĄáŽÊ€áŽ‹êœ± ꜰᎏʀ ᎀɎʏ ʀᎇᎀꜱᎏɎ. ÊœáŽáŽĄáŽ‡áŽ áŽ‡Ê€, Ê€áŽ‡Ê™ÊŸáŽÉąêœ± ᎀʀᎇ ʙᎏ᎛ʜ áŽĄáŽ‡ÊŸáŽ„áŽáŽáŽ‡áŽ… ᮀɮᮅ áŽ‡ÉŽáŽ„áŽáŽœÊ€áŽ€ÉąáŽ‡áŽ…
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wrioluvr · 2 months
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subby vampire x dom male reader
sorry for being inactive yall teehee just thought about this cute little idea and had to write it... also no sex just a little spicy lmk if yall want to see more of this guy đŸ€­
★ ; đŸŠ‡đŸ·. . ♱
you did not expect it to rain during your forest hike today. anticipation to dive into the lush green unknown was quickly turned into a wet mess as your scrambled to find shelter, unsure of where you were even going as the gps signal got weaker deeper into the forest you ventured. much to your surprise, you soon came upon a quaint winding road. following it lead to an ancient-looking manor straight out of the victorian era. despite your brain recounting that this was how every horror movie started, you were desperate to be out of the cold, and soon rushed to the grand door to seek warmth. luckily, someone answered the door. a tall, lanky, ghost of a man, who quickly invited you in and fretted over the prospect of you catching a cold. he was a little odd, speaking in such a proper, olden manner, but he was lovely.
despite your initial protests of overstaying your welcome, he managed to convince you to stay for a week. he invited you to join him for dinner everyday, and it was through these meals that you found out quite a lot about him. one, his name was kliff (you swore his face turned red when you said he had a handsome name), and that he was a vampire who was at least a hundred years old (he stopped counting after the 120th year). the way he revealed it was kind of adorable, he was so reluctant at first.
"sooooo, kliff. you're a vampire, right?"
"goodness, whatever gave you that idea? i most certainly am not." his face said otherwise as his eyes darted everywhere around the room but your gaze, and the tip of his ears turned red.
"and you're gay, right?"
"now THAT is an accusation!" he replied indignantly, now fully flustered. "i, a dignified gentleman, would never engage in such sinful acts."
"but i saw you peeking at me showering yesterday. pervert." you were having the time of your life teasing this poor fossil.
he stood up from the dinner table and paced around the room. "i did no such thing." he mumbled, face somehow steaming even more than you thought was humanly possible. wait, but he wasn't a human. nevermind.
you spent most of your week exploring his manor, poking around the various dusty bookshelves and artifacts of an era long bygone. if there was one thing you picked up from your exploration, it was that kliff was awfully lonely. and had been for a long time. he didn't seem to have had any romantic partners, probably due to his sexuality, nor any pets to keep him company. you could infer this from his clingy nature, he was constantly in the shadows observing you, blending in seamlessly using his powers. he thought he was being slick, but really, he was a rather clumsy vampire. whenever you caught him, he would always act oblivious, and give you a sheepish grin, before scurrying away. it was quite cute, really. another thing was the fact that he never asked to drink from you. "it is quite alright. i sustain myself well enough through other means." was all he said when you asked him about it. mysterious. almost like he didn't dare to taint your skin with his fangs. you decided not to tell him about the fact that you were aware he watched you when you were asleep in the guest room, sometimes even daring to climb into bed silently with you and bask in your presence. he was a lonely soul, you figured. you could let him be delusional for a bit. you would leave after this week, anyway.
but that week passed quick, and with each day, kliff seemed to grow even more on edge, getting nervous whenever he was around you but never daring to speak what was on his mind. brooding around the house, watching you silently as you attempted to grow something in his dying garden... oh it was bad for him. but this came all to a head on your last day, when you bid your goodbyes and were one foot out the door, and he suddenly gathered the courage to say something.
kliff threw himself at you in one final, desperate plea. "please... please don't go...." his tone was so pitiful, you stopped in your tracks and looked at the way he's grabbing your wrist so tightly. "i... i.... if i may, i have one final request."
"you want to drink from me? honestly, i'm surprised you didn't ask earlier."
"no, no... it's not that. it's the opposite, really. may i... may i humbly request that you..." he stops mid sentence and breaks eye contact to look at the ground, voice so soft you could barely hear him. "bite me instead..."
"i beg your pardon?"
"i would like for you to leave a mark on me. as a reminder of your presence." his tone is slightly more confident now as he meets your eyes, centuries-old desire rekindled and burning within them. he falters a bit as he notices your lack of response. "....please?" he mumbles pathetically.
oh, poor baby. he's wanted a man to love him all his life. luckily for him, you found his desperation cute. you drop your bag and take his hand in yours.
"want me to take the lead?" you squeeze his hand, and he nods shyly.
"i would like nothing more."
you gently, but firmly pin him to the nearest wall, the ancient manor creaking under the pressure. it's kind of poetic, kliff thinks, as he wilts under your touch, it sounds like my house is congratulating me. you start off by peppering fleeting kisses all across his neck, admiring the small noises of pleasure he made everytime your lips came into contact with his skin. the fleeting touches turned into harsher bites, as you nibbled at his delicate skin, so fragile and untouched. it was just like he fantasized, and he was in heaven. he gripped onto the wall for support as he gasped at the new sensation, writhing around as you marked him, but your strong hands on his waist kept him steadily in place, a feeling he quickly learnt to enjoy. all those years he spent in solitude seemed to culminate to this moment, he'd never felt more intimate with anyone in his life. you stepped back to look at your handiwork and he immediately collapsed into your arms, a dark purple hickey prominently showing on his neck. he stared up at you lovingly, unable to really form thoughts. "please don't go...." was all he could mutter as you slowly swayed him back and forth, soothing his cold, beating heart.
"guess i'll see you next week, hm?" he's never been happier to hear those words in his long life.
>ᔄᔄ< 💘
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jyoongim · 2 months
Note
Hi there,
OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING!
If requests are still open I was thinking of an idea. I was kinda inspired by the scene in Hazbin Hotel where Val is squinting at the tv and saying “who the f$&@ is that?”
But my idea is instead it’s Vox seeing Alastor escorting the reader around town, having coffee etc. so Vox sees an opportunity to get to Alastor by abducting the reader and broadcasting it to the hotel that they have her/him. Of course Al gets pissed seeing then hurt the reader and saves them.
Doesn’t have to be romantic, maybe more that Alastor considers then a rare friend and is very protective.
Anyway, let me know what you think.
Thank you!!
warnings: fem!reader kidnapping, attempted SA, Vox being a piece of shit, platonic friendship
“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” Vox growled as he stared at his many monitors.
 What had caught his eye was that fucker Alastor.
But oh the red demon wasn’t alone, no, hanging on the arm of the Radio Demon was a pretty doe.
You smiled as you chatted to the demon, eyes sparkling before pouting at whatever he had told you.
You leaned your head on his shoulder happily as the two of you walked down the street. 
Valentino took a puff from his cigar, smirking ”Ooh ooo seems like Alastor got himself a pretty lady while he was gone”
Vox had caught sight of you multiple times. Ever since Alastor came back, you were always by Alastor’s side, not once had he seen you alone.
He watched as Alastor took you to multiple places; cafes, shopping, showing you around Pentagram City.
You must have been something real special if the Radio Demon kept you around.
It would be ashamed if Alastor’s little pet went missing now wouldn’t it


You groaned as you came to. You blinked,  clearing the haze from your sight as you gathered your senses.
You went to move, but found yourself bound and gagged. 
Your eyes widened how the fuck did this happen?
The last thing you remembered was leaving the hotel to buy a few things and being grabbed from behind.
You shivered. Looking down, you saw that you were dressed in rather provocative clothing. You looked around, there were cameras, monitors, and horny demons in the room all set on you.
You started to hyperventilate as tears welled in your eyes, where were you? 
“Aaahh there she is” a voice purred, a cold hand grabbed your chin,making you come face to face with Vox.
Your tears dried up immediately as your brow quirked at him
”now you might be confused dear but don’t fret, I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. Just need to get my point across. How will Alastor feel seeing his little pet ruined” he chuckled darkly.
You growled at him through the gag. 
He sat on a chair and grinned into the monitor
”This is a message to that old timer prick!” The monitor flashed your bound body, wriggling around as multiple demons started the touch you.
”I’ve got your pretty pet, oh don’t worry Ill send her back to you
but i fear she wont be quite the same” Vox laughed.
Charlie and the gang watched in shocked. Why the hell would Vox take you?
A dark aura filled the room as static buzzed loudly. 
“Well it seems I am needed elsewhere” the red demon grinned, smile tense and menacing.
Alastor disappeared in the depths of his shadows.
You panted as you were surrounded by demons. Your face was bruised and blood dripped from your mouth from being striked.
Your gag had been removed by a demon attempting to use your mouth and you had chomped his dick off, resulting in a harsh slap.
”I say we fuck her til she bleeds or even better dead” a demon growled.
You hissed and before one could make a grab at you, the lights blinked.
Dark misty shadows filled the room and you smiled as a voice growled from them.
”Now thats no way to treat a lady”
Alastor.
The demons tried to rush him, but his tentacles shot out and ripped every single one of them apart.
He stalked towards Vox and you had never seen Alastor so enraged.
He had the monitor glitching as he beat him to a pulp.
He powered him down and made his way over to you.
Taking you into his arms, he cooed to you “Oooh my dear I do apologize for the horrid display, i hope you were too uncomfortable”
He materialized your clothing to be more conservative and walked you out of the Vs’ building. 
“Thank you Al” you whispered burying your face in his chest
He chuckled “Ooh anything for you my dear”
Let’s just say, Alastor accompanied you anywhere you went after that.
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reysdriver · 7 months
Text
In Public | J.P.
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Day 5 of Kinktober: Public Sex — james x gn!reader smut
warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, semi-public sex, shower sex, mentions of getting caught, oral (male-receiving), a little bit of gagging/choking, cum facial, probably lowkey uncomfortable sex
words: 1.3k
a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I'm sorry I'm late but I promise I'm catching up on the missing kinktober days, do not fret
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Every time Gryffindor won a game of Quidditch, you wanted to give James some kind of reward. Usually, you gave him some sweets or a handmade gift right after the game, then you waited until that night to give him the other half of his reward for winning. 
And today, Gryffindor won again—half just because of James. You wanted to make him feel extra good after that game, and you were feeling far more impatient than usual. 
James had already started walking towards the school with a pep in his step, excited to meet you in the Gryffindor common room just like you did every game. He knew he would be getting something as a treat for winning his match. Both of you sometimes wondered if he was just playing for a daily kiss on the cheek at this point. 
But when he saw you in the middle of the crowded room celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, your hands were empty. No bag of jelly slugs, no miniature pies you had snuck into the kitchens to make, not even a little animal you folded out of paper. It was just you. And even though he wasn’t sad to see you, he had gotten his hopes up beforehand. 
You didn’t seem fazed at all when you locked eyes with him, despite your empty hands. You ran up to your boyfriend excitedly.
“Jamie! You did so well out there!” You told him, then wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He pouted. “You don’t have a gift for me, love?”
“Who said that?” You pulled off of him and smirked slightly. “Of course I have something for you.”
“So what is it?”
You feigned a shocked look, like he had suggested something so lewd. “I can’t give it to you here, James. We’d get detention for the rest of our lives.” You leaned forward and whispered into his ear in your best bedroom voice. “But I’ll be able to give it to you if you take me up to your dorm.”
He finally clued in to what you meant and you could feel his whole body stiffen. “Oh, well, I should shower first. I don’t want to stink while you give me whatever it is you have up in my room.” He tried to speak like you were still talking about a handwritten note so the people around you wouldn’t know what you meant. 
“How about I come with you?” You suggested while batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s just as good as your dorm, plus you could have a shower and your reward at the same time.”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea, love.” He smiled. “The kind of thing that reminds me of how much I love you.”
And with that, you took his hand and you walked—more like a giddy jog, honestly—down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. As soon as you two chose a stall, you started stripping down out of your clothes. 
“If anyone catches us, we’re still getting that detention, though.” James commented 
“It’s way more private here.” You pointed out. “But even if we do get caught, I think it’s worth it.”
You slung yours over the stall door, just caring about them not getting wet, while James took care to fold his uniform nicely and place them beside your stuff. Noticing the look you were giving him, James rushed to his own defence. 
“It’s the star player’s kit, it’s an important piece of fabric! Even worth waiting a few extra seconds for this.”
 “Are your clothes safe and sound now, Jamie?” You mocked him. 
“As safe as I can make them.” He replied, even though he knew you were making fun of him. 
You reached behind your boyfriend’s back and turned on the water to the temperature you normally liked, but was far too hot for James to ever shower with unless he was with you. 
He flinched slightly once it hit his bare back, but you soothed him by cupping his strong jaw and crashing your lips against his. It was obvious James trusted you to take the lead, meaning he wasn’t entirely sure what to do right then, especially with his hands. He opted to subtly reach behind him and turn the water temperature down, which you noticed immediately. 
You stopped kissing him, and just looked at him with a raised eyebrow for a second. 
“I’m sorry, love, just tell me what to do from now on.”
“Just relax. Put your hands on my head if your heart desires, but you don’t need to do anything.”
After that, you lowered yourself onto the ground, kneeling just a few inches away from James’ massive cock. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but the size managed to take you by surprise every time. You brought a hand up to the erection that had already started growing, then gave him a few pumps to ensure he was hard for you. 
James was looking down and watching what you were doing to him, but you didn’t feel nervous at all. Maybe that’s what love is. In fact, you actually enjoyed him watching you, and you looked up to make eye contact with him. 
“Are you ready?” You asked softly. 
“Of course. It’s the reason I won the Quidditch game.” Even though he absolutely had not known that this was your plan before he got on the pitch, you didn’t say anything about it. 
You just leaned forward, bringing James’ cock to your mouth and swiping the tip a few times with your tongue before filling your mouth with as much as him as you could fit. James let out a heavy breath, right at the same time as you gagged around him. 
“Are you okay?” He asked, not wanting to ruin the mood but still worried after you choked on his length. 
You nodded, then sucked on what you could fit in your mouth, and just stroked the part of James’ dick that you couldn’t. 
You kept going, knowing you were doing well because of the noises that came out of your boyfriend as you worked on him. It was honestly getting to a point where your whole face was getting numb, but his moans were masking all of that going on with you. 
“I’m gonna cum, love.” James said, interrupting his own chorus of groans. ”Where do you want it?” 
You pulled off of him just for a moment to answer him. “Wherever you want it, Jamie. This is your present, right?”
James was surprised he didn’t finish right there, hearing your raspy, seductive voice while you stroked him like you didn’t even have to think about it. 
“I wanna cum on your face.” 
You smiled, and took him out of your mouth, but continued to jerk him off so he could end how he wanted. 
With a moan that echoed throughout the whole bathroom, James reached his climax, painting your face with thick spurts of his cum and making you even more of a masterpiece than you were in his eyes. 
You kept going until it was all out of him and on you instead, then you stood up and looked at James; you were both grinning at each other. 
“I feel like that was way too good of a gift for one little Quidditch game, but I loved it.”
“I thought you would.” You said. “So, I should probably stick to this as the present after a really important game then?”James brought his hands to your face, wiping away the mess he had just made after taking a minute to admire how you looked covered in him. “I don’t care how important the game is, now that I know this is a possibility, Gryffindor will never lose again.”
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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months
Text
Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind
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Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fandom: Enola Holmes series
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.
Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie
A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist 
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You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house. 
Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week. 
You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.
You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.
In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.
You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.
More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him. 
Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.
It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts. 
So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him? 
You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting. 
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You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.
As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?” 
“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes
but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.
“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.
So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.
What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.
Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.
In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 
His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.
His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.
You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.
“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.
“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”
Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace. 
Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.
Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.
“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel
”
“This pretty pussy belongs to me now
”
“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you
”
“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you
”
“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good
for me. Fuck, so close!”
“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words. 
Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release. 
And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.
Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.
He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.
You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.
You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.
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A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.
A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.
**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67
@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102
Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁
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wist0ragic · 5 months
Text
#☆ yandere glamrock freddy !¡ headcanons
(this is my first time writing something so bear with me 😭 it was kinda rushed near the end)
cw: possessive behaviour, overprotectiveness, slightly controlling, slight stockholm syndrome, slightly manipulative, typical yandere behaviour you would expect
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- for starters as you would expect and just like everyone else would agree, glamrock freddy is a much more tame yandere
- he’s definitely not out for blood and would in no way physically harm you or others unless absolutely pushed to do so (and only then he would hurt others if absolutely necessary)
- but he will absolutely guilt trip you with those sweet eyes of his and insist that he’s the only one who could really protect you and keep you safe from the harsh reality of the world and all of its cruelties
- whether you’re an employee at the mega pizza plex or simply a customer who stops by when they can, you manage to catch the bots eye on day one
- for example let’s say we went with the idea that you were an employee that worked for the massive place, it would be your first day and of course the usual anxieties of starting something new start to overwhelm you a little
- especially since your main duties would be maintenance work on the big four
- and who else but freddy would immediately pick up on the fact that you were nervous on your first day and happily offer guidance and reassurance
- i mean he practically spends the whole day with you glued to your hip, or at least as much as he can, what with being the big man himself
- but as soon as any shows or birthday parties were finally over with freddy would immediately find his way to wherever you were and fret over how you were doing without him
- had you taken enough breaks? did you drink enough water? did you have something to eat on break? have customers and coworkers been nice to you? have his band mates been treating you well? did you miss him?
- all of these are questions that freddy would fire off rapidly due to worry
- eventually, after some time working at the pizza plex, you open up to freddy about how the monotony of work was getting to you
- and that having to deal with shitty coworkers and customers five days a week was utterly exhausting
- that’s when the idea clicked in the bots head
- freddy could tell you were tired and so who better than him to rescue you from all of that stress and nonsense?
- he just knew that he was the only who could keep you happy and content, even if that meant locking you away in his room
- “but superstar
 you shouldn’t have to worry about such silly things like work. you’re too precious to be so stressed out and tired. so let me take care of you from now on. I promise I can make you happy in here with me. It’ll be just us
. forever and ever”
- and a part of that delusional offer does sound tempting you have to admit, to have the glamrock freddy care for you and look after you, but at the end of the day escape still lingered in the back of your mind
- the same could be said if you were a customer as well
- only difference is that freddy would have first met you after his performance, he recognized you from all the cheering you did, it was incredibly endearing
- after that freddy would eagerly wait for you, counting down the days until your next visit and celebrating each and every time you stopped by
- but he would still just as easily find a way to convince you to come with him in his room to spend time together
- “come on superstar! it’s been too long since we last got to hang out, let’s catch up in my room! i have plenty of time before my next show”
- and who wouldn’t trust the big ol’ sweetheart?
- that’s when you would find yourself with the door locking heavily behind you and freddy managing to slip you a nighttime candy or two
- “shhh now superstar, i’ve got you, you’re finally safe now with me” and that would be the last thing you hear before your whole world slowly fades to black
“we were meant for each other, no one else can love you the way i do, so let’s stay together forever
. alright?”
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dawndelion-winery · 1 year
Text
Take A Hint
Please just notice their advances
Ft. Diluc, Dottore, Itto, Zhongli
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Diluc:
It's not you, it's him
Truly, he could not be any more vague
Why? You might ask?
Simply put, he's trying his best to romance you without letting you know it's him who's romancing you
Something something anxious you'll reject him something
So yeah, flowers, subtle gifts in the form of things you happen to need, everything is handed to you on a silver platter of convenience
And the sender himself is nowhere to be found or even heard of
Throw in how he's not exactly known for being amorous, as popular as he is, how could you possibly have suspected it was from him?
Of course you'd ask around, sparking a whole new chain of talk about your mysterious admirer
And lots of unwanted advice from the well-meaning citizens of Mond
"You should try asking around at the Angel's Share. Master Diluc always seems to know a little about everything, maybe he has something for ya."
Having no other leads, you went ahead with it
As with every other evening, the place was packed, drunkards exchanging tales over their liquor
There was nothing of value to be gotten from them, so you made a beeline for the redhead behind the counter
"Good evening, what can I get for you this time?"
"You wouldn't happen to have information, would you? On umm, the person who's been sending me all these presents."
He stiffens up, though not enough to be distinctly noticeable
He was going to say no, continue to lay low for a bit more, but when you looked at him so expectantly, it was hard for him to turn you down
It was even worse when you pressed further, prying for details to push your luck
Still, he caved and answered, fumbling as he did, because there was only so vague he could be the more you questioned
"You seem to know this person really well, it's almost like- Wait, Diluc, are you??"
In your excitement, you had gotten up, kneeling on the barstool and leaning across the counter to come face to face with him
"I've thought of something else you can get me, bartender~"
"Y-yes, and...what might that be?"
"You<3"
_____
"Just like that?" Kaeya confirmed, throwing his head back and laughing as he turned to his brother. "Yeah, just like that," you echoed, smiling at your lover who glowered at the blue haired captain. Diluc sat himself between the two of you as he wrapped an arm around you. "I told you it'd be easier to just ask them," Kaeya quipped, only to be silenced with a glare. "I recall," Diluc said. "But it worked out fine all the same." And fine it was, as he pressed a kiss to your temple, content that he no longer had to fret over hiding from you.
Dottore:
For someone who's all about the enjoying the experimental process, even he was growing tired of the lack of results
Were his hints (link to past post) too difficult to notice even for you? Had he overestimated your abilities?
Perhaps that was the case, so he'd have no choice but to resort to a more tried and true method
But of course even then he'd twist it in his own way to suit himself
It's not like there was any point in conforming to a standard the complete opposite of his own lest you fall for anything short of who he truly was
So he approaches you under the guise of a personal experiment, a little something that had piqued his interest
"You can be my lover for a... how's a month sound?"
You choked on your drink
As if being approached by the harbinger you worked for during your lunch break wasn't nerve wracking enough, that was what he wanted to talk to you about?
Despite his offhanded demeanor, seeming to not care about whether you agreed to it or not, you had a feeling it would be in your best interests to go along with it
It's not like you weren't at least somewhat into him anyway
His smile from under the mask did seem very ominous to any sane person though
Perhaps you weren't entirely sane, because the doctor's low chuckle didn't send you running for the hills in spite of you having no idea what he was planning
But really, how hard could it be to play the part of Il Dottore's lover for a month?
The answer was not at all
The position came with a number of privilege you were sure you'd miss once you lost them
Free access to anything under Dottore's command? Almost the same level of authority?
Really, it was insane just how much you were getting out of something that stemmed from his curiosity
And it really had you wondering just how he could afford to spare you all this luxury without batting an eye
Your colleagues, while understandably jealous, had been surprisingly supportive as well, giggling in your ear about how soft the doctor seemed to be for you
But all you could think of was how it was all a lie
You had to keep reminding yourself how quickly it would be over, and that you'd soon return to your old post
Even in the doctor's presence, which was often, you were doing mental gymnastics to stay calm at his every doting gesture
How was it even possible for him to hold you so gently? You'd never know
His duality was such that he could snap at the Regrator in a tone you're sure was icy enough to make the Tsaritsa proud all while holding you in his lap with the warmest possible embrace
And every moment felt like it'd last forever
Could he freeze time? You sort of hoped he would experiment with that and inevitably extend the time you had with him
You, ever the fool, had gotten comfortable with the arrangement even when you'd repeatedly reminded yourself not to
Although one could say you were an even bigger fool for not realising how he set you up to fall for him
Did you really think he was capable of looking at anyone he didn't consider special to him with enough warmth to melt a room when you can't even see his eyes?
On the final day of your agreement, you were finally starting to worry about how you were supposed to go about your old job after all you'd experienced with Dottore
Could you even function without remembering how nice it was to have his reassuring hand on your back?
"Oh my, anyone would think you were upset by the thought of leaving me if you pulled that face."
"Lord Dottore! I didn't notice- I'm sorry I-"
"No, this has been...a very successful experiment, if I do conclude. It has definitely helped me to confirm something important, I was just thinking of how to reward you for your help."
"I'm honoured I was able to assist, my lord. I'd be happy to accept any gift you might grace me with."
He frowned a little, and you were worried you had misspoken
Well, technically, you had, because he was hoping you'd have gotten comfortable enough with him over the month to drop the formalities
"Any gift? Then it's decided. We'll just have to make this a permanent arrangement, wouldn't you agree, my dear? In which case I think it only fitting that...when we're alone like this, you should call me Zandik."
The last part was softer, like the utterance of his name was for no one but you (it was)
Dottore might have been the feared harbinger, but Zandik was your affectionate maniac, and yours alone
_____
"Zandik, I never really did get to ask...why did you choose me for that experiment anyway? It just all seems far too fortunate for everything to fall into place so easily," you asked. You hadn't expected him to grin - more to himself than anyone else. "Yes, very fortunate indeed, you must be quite the lucky one then, favoured by the goddess of love herself, no?" he chuckled. He wondered if you would ever figure out he schemed it all, or if you'd remain blissfully ignorant. Gingerly, he took off his mask and set it on your face. "Would you look at that, it suits you too," he mused. "So why don't we just take it, that we were bound to end up like this one way or another, my precious?"
Itto:
You'd think it's obvious since he's such an outspoken guy
But he's fairly prideful too, so chances are, he's gonna try get you to ask him out
Unfortunately for him, he very much does want to cut the chase and ask you out so he doesn't have to wait
It's really a dilemma, and it doesn't help that no one in the gang apart from Shinobu gives sound advice
Just ask you out? Yeah right, Shinobu, he's gonna go with what the other guys say and just make himself seem so cool you'll be dying to go out with him
So he hangs around you a lot, dragging you with him and talking about how the Arataki Gang is doing stupendously
And who's leading the gang? None other than him, of course!!
Surely you'll think he's awesome, right?
Of course, credit where credit's due, he does end up talking about Shinobu a lot, praising her and how well she helps manage things
In part, that's supposed to help you see how humble he is despite his awesomeness
Too bad it gave the impression that he liked Shinobu, leading to you trying to set them up
Did you kinda like Itto? Yeah, sure, what wasn't there to like about him?
But that was also why you thought you should put your own feelings aside and help him out
And Itto, the sweet dumbass, not knowing any better, went along with all your ideas thinking you just wanted to spend time with him
You were taking him shopping for stuff!! That seems like a date, right? He was counting as a date
Yes, you were trying to dress him up and "coincidentally" bump into Shinobu and abandon them to have dinner together, but Itto didn't know the second half of that
He was absolutely memorising every detail to tell the rest of the gang after about how it worked and you slyly tried to go on a date with him
He was planning up how to tell them already
And you were dressing him up too? Look at you, acting like you're already married, he's very head empty
My guy is so ready to call you out on it when you bump into Shinobu a little earlier than expected
"Oh, what are you two up to? No offence, y/n, it's just that Itto typically doesn't come around town without some sort of mayhem following."
"Hey, you know that's not true, people love me, I-"
Red alert: he was looking stupid in front of his crush
And when you were quick to defend him? Boy, he looked like he wanted to kiss you then and there
You thought you were salvaging his reputation, but really, it just made you look like you were taking his side unconditionally
At least that's how it seemed in the moment
"How about that, boss. You actually got them to fall for you hard enough to overlook your idiocy. Who'd have thought?"
"Well, of course no one can resist the one and Oni Arataki Itto, y/n included, right my bug?"
You couldn't even be offended at his awful petname for you because there was so much to process
Were you dating now? Was that how it went?
Honestly, you could roll with that, as funny of a way as it was to get together
You didn't even have the heart to tell him about the misunderstanding because he seemed so proud to show off to everyone how you finally got together
_____
The members of the Arataki Gang gathered around with gathered sakura blooms as they scattered the petals around to congratulate the two of you. For the most part, Itto was just recounting the tale from his perspective, which was pretty funny to hear since you knew how it all actually went down. Had you really looked at him with the love the ocean had for the moon? It was almost embarrassing to hear how he described you, the poetic brilliance so unlike his typical crude speech. Certainly, it was a simple as comparing you to fresh grass in the summer, but it was very him to do so. And you supposed that was the magnetic charm of his after all.
Zhongli:
He can't think of a time when he's ever been so desperate to reach out to someone and yet so hesitant
But that had to be all the more reason for him to keep his distance because imagine if he lost you once he'd gotten attached?
Absolute devastation
But a small part of him insists you're worth the risk
Sadly, not enough to convince him because what if one day you realise you're just wasting your time with him? If you didn't actually like him any more than as a dear friend?
So you end up in this awful push and pull, hot and cold situation where one day he's inviting you out, eager to spend time with you
And the next day he's nowhere to be found, uncontactable as though he was never a part of your life
It got tiring really fast, so you roped in Hu Tao, since as his boss, she probably had his schedule
That and Hu Tao very much seems to be aware of something you aren't (aka the fact that Zhongli is immortal)
She wants to fill you in so badly because she's pretty done with watching Zhongli pine and then act like he never did
Still, she respects his boundaries (mostly) so she just helps drag him out of hiding
And by that, I mean calling him to work for something really important so he'll rush over
So you can imagine how his eyes widened when he saw you waiting with the director
"Director...and y/n, did I miss something?"
He knew he was being played the moment he saw Hu Tao's close-eyed smile but it was too late to run
Even then, Hu Tao wasn't one to break character, so she sent the two of you on some errands for her
So off you go, wandering Liyue on tasks you're certain have no relevance to whatever Hu Tao actually needs
Part 1: Scouring mountains for qingxin
At some point, Zhongli decided it'd be so much easier to just boost you up with his geo structures and catching you when you jumped/slid back down
No, he's definitely not the geo archon he's just very proficient at using his vision, he assures you
With the way he talks about Liyue as you search for flowers, even you end up piecing it all together
"What's it like to no longer be worshipped?"
"It's definitely more peaceful."
He pauses and slowly turns towards you
"I seem to be slipping up a lot today. This is exactly why I can't be around you. Still, what were the chances you'd figure this out before picking up on my feelings for you?"
Look at him turning the tables on you, it was now your turn to be flustered
How dare he
With a gentle tenderness only the passage of time could train, he picked out one particular flower from the bunch and held it beside your cheek
"Would it be inappropriate for me to comment on how you put even the loveliest of flowers to shame? Or should I find an equally appealing piece of jade or cor lapis to match the shine of your eyes?"
"What's with this sudden flattery?"
"You do bring out the worst in me sometimes. Even centuries of solitude couldn't grant me the patience to wait for you to choose me."
_____
You'd returned to the funeral parlour with Zhongli, both of you hauling massive bouquets in your arms. "We've found the-" Zhongli began, only to be cut off by his boss chiding him. "Aiya, I gave you the perfect opportunity and you still have no game!"
"No, but I did-" He turned to you with pleading eyes, but it was a sight too funny to pass up on. You'd make it up to him later, of course. But for the time being, you'd let yourself be amused with his suffering as payback for ghosting you all those times.
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skiller0dani · 1 year
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The Morning After (NHoG Short) | Ominis Gaunt
M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Harry Potter Masterlist
smut | slytherin!reader requests info w.c | 2.3k summary | You have a soft morning with Ominis after the traumatic events of last night.
I wasn't ready to leave The Noble House of Gaunt (NHoG) behind yet lol this is just a short thing. I might write more blurbs but I really doubt it. This is the final piece I wanted to add, enjoy! I have some ideas for Sebastian & Ominis I'll be working on soon.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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The first thing Ominis felt the next morning was pain. It was quickly succeeded by joy, happiness, and a flurry of butterflies swarming in his stomach. But the pain remained nonetheless. His entire upper torso was so sore it felt hard to breathe, and every muscle felt as though it had been put through a meat grinder. He nearly forgot what this pain felt like- nearly. He had endured it during his childhood more times than he could count. He had endured the horrible ache that lasted the week preceding the curse, and he was determined not to sully the wonderful night the two of you had by making you worry. Lest of all feel guilty for something that was never your fault in the first place.
The second thing Ominis felt when he woke up was you, snuggled against his bare chest. Your cheek was pressed against his collarbone, and his arm was curled around your torso. He felt your bare skin beneath his fingertips, felt all your soft dips and curves. You were enough to make him smile through the residual pain. Your hand was resting on his chest, and he felt so at ease to have you here in his arms first thing in the morning. He wished you two could wake up like this every morning. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and breathed in your scent, like lilacs growing in a strawberry field. Ominis had no idea what time it was, there were thankfully no classes today so there was no rush. The Great Hall was likely serving breakfast, and he wanted to make sure you ate something.
He carefully sat up, smiling when he hears you whine softly, your hands reaching for him to protest him standing. He reaches for his clothes, which is a bit of a task as they got strewn about the Undercroft the night before. He groans softly as a sharp pain runs down his back, unfortunately the sound stirs you awake.
"Ominis? Are you okay?" You mumble, your voice still thick with sleep. He gave you the best 'I feel fine and not like every inch of my body is bruised' smile he could muster.
"Of course my love, just going to get you breakfast." He says sweetly, and you smile widely. You pull yourself to sit up in bed, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you pull the blankets around your naked body. You eye him suspiciously as you watch him slowly put on his clothes, wincing when he has to lift his arms or bend over. You swing your feet over the side of the bed and make an attempt to stand, which doesn't go well due to the wobble in your legs and the deep ache from between them.
"-shit." You curse, stumbling against the bedframe. Ominis is quick to reach in your direction, his arms encircling your body once he locates you. You lean against him, nuzzling your nose against his like you always do and you try to ignore the worry on his face.
"Are you alright, my heart? Did I hurt you last night?" He frets, helping you sit back on the bed. His hands smooth up your bare thighs before one reaches up to gently brush through your hair. You lean up to kiss him, its short and sweet but it stops him from nervously rambling.
"No darling you didn't. I just feel a little sore is all." You explain, and he cradles the back of your head as he presses his lips against your forehead. The gesture is sweet and romantic and it makes you fall in love with him all over again.
"Let me get you something to eat, you stay here and don't you even think of putting any clothes on." Ominis teases, and your cheeks color. You lean back against the headboard, pulling the blankets and enveloping your body in warmth. Ominis pulls out his wand and smiles, heading towards the entrance to the Undercroft.
"I love you!" You call after him, and it makes him smile.
"I love you more, be back soon sweetheart." He calls back, hearing your beautiful laughter before the gate closes behind him.
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Normally Sebastian sat with either you or Ominis at breakfast, but seeing as neither of you are here he had no choice but to sit with Imelda. She would make much better company if she didn't ask so many personal questions.
"You sure you don't have a thing for Y/N?"
"Positive."
"Because I thought at first that you might, especially during 5th Year."
"We're just friends Imelda, she's definitely in love with Ominis." Sebastian sighs, trying his hardest to tune her out.
"But if she wasn't in love with Ominis..."
"I still wouldn't have a thing for her. Can you stop please?" He asks, his tone getting snippy. Imelda grinned, resting her chin in her palm. She picked at her oatmeal, with you gone she felt nearly as bored as Sebastian. Which is why she kept pestering the poor boy with questions she already knew the answers to. She knew he didn't like you, of course she did. She was only asking to irritate him.
"Why? Is this a sore subject?" Imelda teased, laughing behind her palm when Sebastian throws her a glare.
"Like when she beat all your fastest times? Shall we talk about that instead?" Sebastian fired back, playful grin on his face.
"Okay, not funny Sallow."
"Why? Is this a sore subject?" Sebastian says casually, but there's still a teasing glint in his eyes.
"I swear if you-"
"Now that is unbecoming behavior at the table, Imelda." Ominis scolds, feeling as Imelda shakes the entire table trying to punch Sebastian.
"Ominis!" Sebastian says happily, smiling up at him. Ominis doesn't sit, he smooths out a bandana he brought with him on the table. With a wave of his wand, tarts, biscuits, and some fruit all float neatly into the bandana. He reaches down to tie the top, and lifts his neat little package before turning.
"Woah hold on, where are you going?" Sebastian asks, scrambling to catch Ominis before he walks away.
"Nowhere." Ominis says dismissively, Sebastian eyes the food in Ominis's hands suspiciously- and the fact that you're nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Y/N?"
"Nowhere." Ominis says his cheeks steadily flushing, and Sebastian smiles wickedly. He's beginning to figure out what's going on here.
"Ominis you sly dog!" He laughs, and Ominis huffs in annoyance. Though his ears have begun to turn red.
"Poor thing can't walk can she? Ominis I never knew you had it in you..." Sebastian continued his teasing and the only reason Ominis hasn't slapped him is because it's only Sebastian. If some other guy were to speak of you in that way, he'd be on his way to Nurse Blainey by now. Sebastian is harmless, Ominis knows he doesn't mean any disrespect, and won't tell anybody.
"Though I suppose it wasn't you that had anything in-"
"Sebastian." Ominis's voice was low, a gentle warning that Sebastian is about to push the teasing too far. Sebastian raises his hands in surrender with a chuckle, following Ominis to the Undercroft. Once they reach it, Ominis pauses.
"You can't come in."
"Why not?" Sebastian is playfully smiling, though he knows Ominis can't see that.
"Because Y/N is indecent." Ominis states firmly, sure to block the entrance to the Undercroft with his body.
"Oh is she? Prove it." The teasing tone hasn't wavered, Sebastian is likely going to be teasing Ominis about this for weeks. Ominis reaches towards Sebastian's direction and punches him, not caring where he hits. His fist lands square in the middle of Sebastian's chest, pushing him backwards lightly.
"I'm kidding!" He laughs, and Ominis has nothing but an irritated look in his face. Ominis turns back to the Undercroft with a huff, though he doesn't move to open the entrance.
"Go away." He says, and Sebastian laughs again before Ominis can hear his footsteps on the marble flooring.
Wait.
"Go!" Ominis snaps, and he hears Sebastian laugh from behind him again.
"How on Earth do you know when I'm faking?" He says, actually walking away this time. Ominis doesn't bother giving him a reply as he enters the Undercroft.
"My love? I've brought breakfast." Ominis calls out and he can hear your squeal of excitement, probably because you've already sniffed out something he brought for you.
"Strawberry tarts?" You're overjoyed once he unwraps breakfast, and he can't fight the smile that appears on his face. You immediately grab one, taking a big bite as Ominis sheds his robes. He sits back against the headboard next to you, reaching for a banana.
"I missed you, what took so long?" You whined, scooching closer to him to feel the warmth coming from his body. Why do men emit heat like furnaces? You're always cold, and he's always warm.
"Sebastian was being a pest." He says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"What did he do now?" You ask, though there is a smile on your face. You're so happy Ominis is spending time with Sebastian, even if he complains about him afterwards.
"Um, nothing." Ominis evades your question with a blush dusting across his cheeks. You look at him curiously.
"Ominis."
Silence.
"Ominis."
"He figured it out." Is all Ominis says eventually. He looks a little embarrassed.
"Figured what out?" You ask, though you're fairly certain you already know.
"What we got up to...last night." Ominis says softly, and if you didn't know better you'd say Ominis looked shy. You smiled fondly at him, he's the cutest person you've ever seen.
"You're right. He is a pest." You agree, coaxing a chuckle out of Ominis. You wait a few moments before you swing a leg over Ominis's lap, straddling him. Your arms circle around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his.
"You're far too clothed." You mumble softly and Ominis smiles at you.
"Are we not leaving the Undercroft soon?" He teases with a loving smile.
"Eventually, but there are a few things I want to try first..." You say softly, and Ominis is already fumbling with the buttons of his sweater. You stop him with a gentle hand, you're practically aching and you don't feel like waiting.
"Trust me?" You ask him, as if you even need to ask.
"Always." He replies firmly, clenching his jaw when he feels one of your hands traveling south. You've begun to rock against him, and he can hear the soft whines leaving your lips.
"You took too long Ominis...I've been craving you." You whisper softly, and Ominis feels a shudder go down his spine. Now that you two have crossed this threshold he knows now you'll never go back. He's turned into a beast.
"I would have sent Sebastian away sooner had I known you were needing to be taken care of sweetheart." Ominis whispers back, his lips brushing against yours. He feels the wet, warm heat of your cunt grinding against his cock through his pants. He feels blood surging south, and you moan when you feel him getting hot and hard underneath you. You reach down to undo his belt clasp, leaving is displaced enough to work the button of his trousers open. You reach into his pants, your fingers encircling his shaft as you take him out and jerk him a few times. Ominis groans softly, feeling your thumb swipe over his head. His hands have cupped your cheeks to pull your lips against his.
You lean up on your knees, positioning yourself over him before you carefully lower yourself until his tip is nudging against your entrance. You continue to lower yourself, sighing in relief as his cock breaches your folds and slides into you. You continue traveling downwards until you're sitting on his lap, your pelvis flush against his and his cock stretching you open. You're gasping into each others mouths as you raise, only to carefully sink back down on him again. Ominis's hands reach up to explore your bare skin, his hands massaging your breasts as you sweetly bounce on his lap. He swears he's in heaven, nothing on Earth or beyond could be better than this.
You begin to moan louder, the sound becoming desperate and hoarse as you slide down on his cock again. This angle is delicious, it reaches even deeper places that you didn't know could be reached. Ominis's hands have found your hips, helping to control the pace. He is, as you're discovering, a bit of a control freak. He likes to have a say in how fast you're going, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Ominis reaches forward to thumb at your clit, causing you to cry out as your nails bite into his shoulders.
"C-Can't come inside you." Ominis gasps, and you whine in annoyance.
"No my love please, please I love feeling you come inside-" You protest, bouncing on his cock faster now. You're close to release, and so is he. But he won't risk getting you pregnant, at least not until he can properly provide for you and the baby. Besides, the two of you are way too young for that right now. Ominis's arms curl around your body, flipping you over after ensuring the mattress is beneath you. He sweetly thrusts into you, leaning over you on his forearms. He's still fully clothed, and you're stark naked. The image shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.
"Please-" Your plea is so carnal, so desperate that Ominis almost complies. But luckily his rational thinking is breaking through the haze of lust clouding your judgement. He thrusts harder, groaning as he feels you clench around him as you come. Your back arches and you cry out his name, your cum drenching his cock. Ominis thrusts a few more times and just as that band snaps, he forces himself to pull out, coming in white ropes across your stomach. You groan in annoyance, you know why he did it, but the feeling of being full of his cum is euphoric. His body is trembling as he lays down next to you, and you can see how badly he hurts.
"Are you okay?" You ask, taking his hand. He smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.
"Never better."
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lulublack90 · 12 days
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Prompt 18 Neighbour AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991
Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood. 
Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays. 
So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted. 
The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots. 
He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.
A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother. 
Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest. 
July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it. 
Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.
It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s. 
“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.
“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution. 
“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”
“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it. 
“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village. 
Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage. 
Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night. 
The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour. 
“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head. 
“I’m all good. Don’t fret.” 
Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind. 
“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!” 
Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before. 
“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.  
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clangenrising · 4 months
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Month 11 - Leafbare
The evening was cold but not unbearable, and for that Goldenstar was thankful. The sky was black above them, a blanket of dark clouds through which a star or two shone dimly. There was no moon to light their path. Nonetheless, she and her companions made their way to the Cornerstones for a very important meeting. 
“What if a fight breaks out?” Floodpaw said, padding beside her. “How will we know if StarClan is mad if there’s no moon?” 
“This is going to be a small meeting among leaders,” she said. “No one will be fighting.” Floodpaw frowned slightly and Goldenstar sighed. That boy. 
Sagetooth seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Are you sure it’s wise to bring him along?” she groused. Floodpaw pouted further.
“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said tiredly. 
The last few weeks had been exhausting. She’d spent days grieving for Scorchplume, then fretting over Yarrowshade while he healed from his bruised - but thankfully not broken! - ribs. After that she’d been scrambling to keep things together. To her shock, Orangestar had come to her suggesting they turn Aldertail over to the rogues but she had abandoned the idea the moment Goldenstar had pushed back. Orangestar was scared and out of her depth, they both were, but deep down she didn’t want to send a cat to such a terrible fate, which was a relief. 
Together they had organized this meeting, even if Snowstar and Flightstar had continued to put it off for days. The entire time, Razor and his rogues had pushed the border by a tail length or so every day, working their way deeper and deeper into her territory. The longer things dragged on, the more they drained Goldenstar’s energy. Each new inconvenience or threat was like a tick and they just kept building up until she felt like she was covered in them, metaphorically speaking. 
On the other side of Floodpaw from her, Smokyrose smiled sympathetically. “He promised to be on his best behavior, didn’t you, Floodpaw?” 
“That’s right,” he said, puffing up to his full height with a bounce on his toes. “I’ll be quiet the whole time, just like I promised. Please don’t make me go kitsit with the others!” He shaped his face into a pleading expression and craned his head to look over Goldenstar’s back at Sagetooth. At eight moons old, he barely had to stretch to do it anymore and Goldenstar marveled quietly at how quickly he had grown. He was nearly taller than she was!
Sagetooth rolled her eyes and looked away. “It’s not up to me anyways,” she said, which was as good as a yes. 
“What’s wrong with kitsitting?” Smokyrose teased. “Do you not like my little girls?” 
“No, it's not that,” Floodpaw scoffed, bumping shoulders with the elder gently. “It’s just boring. I’d rather be learning! Like tonight,” he turned his eager blue gaze on Goldenstar, “I get to study diplomacy and stuff.” 
“I’m surprised you’re interested, honestly,” Goldenstar said. 
Floodpaw shrugged. “I want to know everything it takes to be a good leader, in case I get to be your deputy one day.” 
“Hmm,” Goldenstar smirked, “we’ll see
” 
The four cats made their way over the river and into the trees. As the Cornerstones came into view, Goldenstar spotted a small cluster of cats. Among them was a bright ginger shape and for a brief second she thought it might be Scorchplume but the illusion was quickly dispelled. Orangestar’s posture was far too anxious to belong to Scorch. Besides, she thought, what would she be doing here? 
Orangestar waved as they approached. Beside her was Darkmoon, the deputy, and a tortoiseshell cat it took Goldenstar a moment to recognize. 
“Poppybird,” she greeted the FallenClan mediator with surprise. “Where is Flightstar?” 
“He’s not coming, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically.
“He’s not?” Sagetooth huffed. “For what reason?”
“He said this is none of his concern,” Poppybird said. “He said I was free to come in his stead, though, so here I am.” Sagetooth sat down with a disgruntled hrmf. 
“Well, thank you for coming,” said Smokyrose. “Maybe you can help him understand the gravity of the situation after tonight.” 
“StarClan willing,” Poppybird smiled and it was clear she was struggling not to speak ill of her leader. Goldenstar returned her pained smile and settled down next to Orangestar. 
“I hope you all don’t mind if my apprentice sits in on the meeting. I’m hoping it will be a good learning experience.” 
“Of course not,” Orangestar said, tail twitching anxiously. Goldenstar let her tail fall over top of Orangestar’s and the younger leader gave a breathy laugh and nodded in thanks. Goldenstar nodded back. She was grateful she was able to be there for the cats around her when they needed her.
She wished she had been able to be there for Scorch when she had the chance

“Greetings, friends!” Snowstar’s voice rang loudly through the clearing, jostling Goldenstar from her thoughts. The white furred leader, Coyotechaser, and the SkyClan mediator, Heatherfuzz, strolled into the clearing and joined the other cats at the base of the Cornerstones. 
“No Flightstar?” Coyotechaser asked. 
“He declined the invitation last minute,” Poppybird explained. 
“That’s too bad,” said Heatherfuzz, folding his tail over his paws. 
“Yes, a real shame,” said Snowstar a little too loudly. Floodpaw in particular grimaced and pressed his ears back against his head. Goldenstar surreptitiously looked at Sagetooth who cast her a sideways glance and swiped a paw over one ear before focusing back on the meeting ahead of her. So her suspicion was correct then. It seemed Snowstar’s hearing was finally starting to go. 
“We should get started,” she said, changing the subject. “Razor’s band only get bolder by the day. Something needs to be done.” 
“Agreed,” said Orangestar, trying to sound firm. “Every day we have less and less prey to share.” 
Darkmoon nodded. “Either they don’t know how to preserve next year's hunt or they don’t care. I’d wager the latter.” 
“Both can be true at once,” Sagetooth said. “They know nothing of our ways and they don’t care to learn. They need to be stopped.” Turning her gaze to Snowstar, she said, “We would handle them ourselves if we could but, as you know, the Red Gut cut all of our Clans down to a dangerous size.” 
“We need your help,” Smokyrose said, glancing from Snowstar to Poppybird. “Both of you. This is a threat to all of the Clans, not just RisingClan.” 
“I know,” Snowstar started loudly, although she paused when Coyotechaser brushed her tail against her side and then started again at a more reasonable volume. “I know, but, from what you’ve described before, there are enough rogues to outnumber all of the Clans several times over. Maybe we should start considering alternatives.” 
“Alternatives?” Darkmoon glared. “Like what?” 
“Well, for starters,” said Snowstar, “maybe you both could start searching for new territories.” 
“What?” Floodpaw blurted but shrank when Sagetooth shot him a withering stare. Still, Goldenstar was with her apprentice on this.
“What do you mean, ‘search for new territories’?” she asked stubbornly. “Are we supposed to go off on our own? Cut ourselves off from StarClan and our ancestral homeland?” 
Heatherfuzz shifted forward with a kind smile on his face. “There are hunting grounds over the mountains,” he said, “and a lake. They might be a good place to settle down, away from this Razor and his rogues. We would even be willing to help facilitate travel through the mountains.”
“Isn’t that lake swimming with twolegs?” Sagetooth snapped. “If I remember correctly, You have a kittypet warrior now who used to live there.” 
“They’re only busy in greenleaf,” Coyotechaser said, “A seasonal challenge, like foxes and ticks.” 
“That’s missing the point,” Smokyrose said gently, no doubt trying to make up for Sagetooth’s brusqueness. “From what we understand, Razor is looking for a psychological victory as well as a physical one. He’s trying to prove that he can push us around, that he’s better than us. If we leave for the mountains that will only encourage him and next thing you know he’ll be encroaching into your territory as well.” 
“That’s a bit of a slippery slope,” Poppybird said, “don’t you think?” 
“Then we’re standing on the precipice of a slippery slope!” cried Sagetooth. “Stars above! Where are your spines?! Are you not warriors?” 
“Sagetooth
” Smokyrose warned carefully. 
“What?” Sagetooth’s hackles bristled. “Am I supposed to just sit by while these mouse-hearts hand our ancestral territory over to a bunch of faithless kittypets?!”
“Let’s all take a deep breath,” said Goldenstar. “Shouting isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Sagetooth huffed through her nose and turned her furrowed brows skyward. Thankful that the healer had listened, Goldenstar continued. “She’s right, though. This is what warriors do. Orangestar and I are going to have to fight back at some point. We need your help to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.” 
She searched the faces of the cats in front of her. Poppybird studied the frozen ground at her paws with a troubled expression. Snowstar had tilted her head back to look down her nose at her as she considered the argument. Coyotechaser’s head was tilted to the side in an expression that said, ‘she’s not wrong.’ Heatherfuzz was still offering a sympathetic smile. Orangestar’s tail began to fidget again. Fat, wet snowflakes started to fall from the sky, resting on the cats’ pelts as they sat in silence.
Coyotechaser leaned in to whisper in Snowstar’s ear and Goldenstar overheard the words “StarClan” and “not unreasonable”. 
Eventually, Snowstar nodded and said, “Alright. You make a good point. But I hope you can understand my hesitance. This is a big, dangerous thing you’re asking, and my Clan is just as weakened as yours.” 
“That’s why we have to work together,” Smokyrose said. “United we are stronger.”
“Yes, yes,” Snowstar sighed. “I just wish there were better prospects before us. I don’t want to rush into a battle we can’t win.” 
Just then, Sagetooth gasped sharply through her teeth. Everyone looked to see her sitting completely rigid, staring up at the sky with a heavy snowflake perched upon her nose and a distant look in her eyes. Goldenstar’s pelt prickled as the energy in the clearing changed. Those who had seen this sight before could recognize it anywhere - a prophecy!
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After a long second, Sagetooth let out the breath and slumped her shoulders, head bowing. She panted for a moment before looking up at Snowstar with a grin. 
“Ask and ye shall receive,” she said, the snowflake still sitting on her greying muzzle. “In nine days, a storm will come and the rogues’ defenses will fall. That is when we strike.” Floodpaw opened his mouth then bit down on his lip to keep it shut. 
“Nine days?” Poppybird asked, “It was that precise?” 
Sagetooth flicked one ear and said, “There were no words but I saw a sudden vision of the moon being blotted out by snow, then a raptor crushed a snake’s head in its beak. I know the phases of the moon and that one should arrive in nine days, maybe ten.” Floodpaw was starting to vibrate in his efforts to contain himself. 
Goldenstar smiled. “Nine days then,” she said. “Can we count on you to be there?” 
“Yes,” Snowstar said and Coyotechaser once again had to correct her volume. “I’ll bring my warriors to your camp before nightfall.” 
“What about FallenClan?” Smokyrose asked. “Do you think the prophecy could convince Fallenstar to join us?” 
“I would like to think so,” Poppybird said. “StarClan’s will is clear. I will see what I can do.” 
“Thank you,” sighed Smokyrose in relief. 
“What do we do until then?” asked Orangestar. “My warriors are already struggling to eat. Even if we drive them back, that won’t return the prey they’ve stolen.” 
Snowstar hummed thoughtfully. “SkyClan can offer some of its prey to strengthen its allies. EarthClan and RisingClan are welcome to fish in our river until this threat is sufficiently dealt with on the condition that they preserve next year’s hunt.” 
“Of course,” Goldenstar agreed. “We’ll take only what the river is willing to part with.” 
Orangestar sounded on the verge of tears. “Thank you so much, Snowstar.” 
“It is the least I can do,” Snowstar said graciously and Goldenstar had to agree but she wasn’t about to overlook the gift they were already being given.
“We’ll see you in nine days,” she said, rising to her feet. “Until then.”
“May StarClan light your path,” Poppybird said, doing the same.
“And may we fight with the strength of LionClan!” boomed Snowstar. Everyone winced. 
“Indeed!” Smokyrose managed to cheer a bit. 
Snowstar nodded and turned to leave with her Clanmates in tow. Poppybird dipped her head to the others and slipped around the Cornerstones to return to her own territory. Orangestar turned to Goldenstar and smiled, sniffing back tears.
“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “I couldn’t have done this on my own.”
“You could have,” Darkmoon shook his head.
“Agreed,” said Goldenstar, “but I’m glad we did this together. We need to look out for each other more than ever right now.” 
“We’ll see you in nine days,” said Orangestar. “Good luck.” 
“You too,” said Goldenstar, and both groups headed in their separate directions. 
Before they had even left the clearing, Floodpaw practically exploded with questions. “What was that? You had a vision? Like from StarClan?” Goldenstar chuckled and wrapped her tail over his haunches as they walked.
“Yes,” Sagetooth said wearily. It seemed the vision had taken a lot out of her. “When they need to, they send us warnings about the future.” 
“How did you know what it meant? Can anyone see a prophecy or is it just cats like you and Papa?” 
“Anyone can,” Sagetooth hummed, “but usually leaders or healers are the ones to interpret them. It's a skill you can learn to cultivate, although some cats have a gift.” 
“So there’s gonna be a big battle?” Floodpaw turned his excited gaze to his mentor. “Can I go?!” He bounced eagerly, jostling up against her.
“Easy,” she laughed. “We’ll have to see. Russetfrond and I will probably hold an assessment before the battle to see if you three are up for it.” 
“Okay,” Floodpaw seemed a bit disappointed but wasn’t phased for long. “I’m sure we’ll ace it, no problem. Well
 Maybe not Barleypaw.” He frowned as if irritated with his sister and Goldenstar laughed again. 
“She probably won’t want to go anyway,” Smokyrose said. 
“Yeah,” Floodpaw shrugged. “That’s fine. More fighting for me.” 
“That’s not how that works, kid,” Goldenstar rolled her eyes. 
“Whatever,” he laughed, bumping into her on purpose this time. She glared playfully and gave him a rough shove back, causing him to tumble onto his side with a squawk, flailing his gangly limbs. 
Goldenstar smiled but the smile quickly faded. This battle was no laughing matter. Fighting Razor’s rogues was going to be dangerous and that was before you factored in a heavy snow storm. She would have to talk with Sagetooth about the best ways to prevent injured warriors from also contracting frostbite, send extra patrols looking for horsetail and cobwebs, oversee extra training for the apprentice and maybe even some of the warriors. She would have to coordinate the attack with the other Clans and hope that Fallenstar didn’t try to pick a fight, if he even came at all. 
It was going to be a lot to handle but she was determined to do it. This was what Sunstar had trained her for. This was her destiny.
UPDATES: - Yarrowshade has healed from his injuries. - Sagetooth receives a prophecy from StarClan!
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itwasthereaminuteago · 10 months
Text
|| Engagement ||
Matt Murdock x gn reader
Tags/warnings: mild angst, mild smut, meta, sorry not sorry I had to!!! 😂
As always, I adore and appreciate any comments, reblogs, etc and I'm extremely thankful to you for reading my fics!
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~
Matt's arms tighten around you as you lie snuggled up together in bed. He can pick up on your disconnected mood from your elevated heart rate and the way he hears your breathing change every time you think about saying something and then stop yourself.
"You know you can talk to me, if something's wrong." He says quietly.
You take a deep inhale, sighing it out as you nuzzle into his t-shirt at his shoulder. "I know," you reply, choosing to ignore the invitation to unload.
He pushes a little harder in response. "Sweetie, you've been off for a while now, you think I hadn't noticed?"
"Urgh. It's stupid."
He turns his head to kiss you on the top of your head, giving you another squeeze. "I'm sure it's not, and talking about might help? If you want."
You huff out another sigh. "I dunno, I've kind of talked it over with others but it doesn't seem to make any difference. I'm not sure it's something I can fix."
Concern washes over Matt's features. "Is– is it something I've done? Or not done?" He gently takes your face in his hands. "Sweetheart, you'd tell me if it was me wouldn't you? I'd want you to."
You smile, bringing your hand up to stroke through his soft, messy hair. "Of course I would, and no it's nothing you've done, so don't fret."
The worry melts from his brow. "Alright, but c'mon, try me. I'm sure we can do something about whatever it is that's got you down."
"Well
 it's work related. I'm not getting anywhere near as much feedback on my stuff as I used to. You know how in the creative sector we kinda thrive on others sharing our work to bring it to the attention of others? I've been feeling for a while now that the sense of community that we had has just sort of disappeared. People don't seem to want to interact that much with what we make."
Matt groans. "Baby, is this about the lack of reblogs on Tumblr again? "
You can't help frowning. "It is." You admit.
He smiles and rolls over to cage you underneath him. "I could make you forget about it, for a while at least?"
"Matty!" You push him off with a frustrated sigh. "Are you honestly trying to distract me with sex? You know how important this is to me."
"I know, I'm sorry. I don't mean to trivialise the issue, I just thought I could take your mind off it, maybe make you feel better."
"So kind and selfless of you
" you smirk as he starts to kiss along the column of your neck.
"I try." He smiles. "Anyway, you were saying? And I'm gonna keep kissing you."
"Fine. Okay, so I know that I should create for myself and not for other people
"
"But it's nice to get some recognition, right?" You nod as Matt holds himself over you again continuing to make his way down your neck towards your collarbones.
"Right. I really do appreciate the likes, but if people are just 'liking' my work without sharing it, that means it just ends up dead in the water. No-one else really gets the chance to enjoy it."
"Any idea why they are not sharing?" Matt asks, lightly stroking your side.
"I dunno, maybe they're not familiar with how the site works, that it doesn't have an algorithm? Maybe they're embarrassed to let other people see what they're looking at? Especially if it's something a bit risqué."
Matt hums. "Yeah but didn't you tell me before that they could just create a sideblog that's not associated with their main account, and reblog things they like using that and no one would be any wiser?'
"Exactly! And anyway, it's not like everyone doesn't enjoy looking at and reading porn
"
Matt lifts his head up, a slight sly smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. "Mm true. So what else are you sad about?"
You sigh again. You can't seem to stop yourself.
"Well, people aren't commenting on works either. There's rarely any discussion, I mean even just a manic keyboard smash would be amazing for an artist to see in their notifications, but there's barely even that anymore. Commenting on a stranger's fan works is so much fun, it can really bring people together!"
"That's how a great community grows isn't it?" Matt asks you.
"Yep, and you end up making so many friends you would never have thought. I miss that aspect of it a lot."
Matt's swiftly moving down to lavish attention over your chest, and you momentarily lose your train of thought as his lips brush over your nipple. "And have you brought people's attention to this problem?"
"Of course! Many other creators have explained why reblogs and sharing are so important in eloquently written PSAs, but I guess that the target audience must not see them because they're perhaps only looking at the stories and fanart from tags and they maybe don't see the other dashboard posts. I dunno."
Matt starts to lick an achingly slow intimate path down your stomach and you feel heat spreading throughout your body, your heart rate now elevated for quite a different reason. Then suddenly, he stops.
"Have you thought about maybe incorporating the message into one of your creations? Maybe that might reach the intended audience better."
You close your eyes as you consider the idea. He shifts further down the bed and you allow him to spread your thighs apart and slot his shoulders inbetween.
"Mm, well
 that's- actually that's a good idea. I mean, it can't hurt to try, can it? You're the devil on my shoulder Matty."
"Exactly. But leave it till tomorrow sweetheart. Right now this devil wants to make you feel good."
You bite down on your lip as he flashes you a smoldering look before ducking down to make good on his promise.
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vodika-vibes · 20 days
Note
Hi! I was rereading some of your follower event things and thought one of Wrecker ones (I Can Fix That) was super cute! At least the vibes of it with it being mostly really sweet and caring.
I was hoping you could write something with vibes kind of like that one. Not exactly like the Wrecker one obviously because what I'm asking for is different.
Anyways, I am requesting the gem emerald with Gregor during sunset/dusk please! Preferably with Gender Neutral reader where the reader and Gregor are going on their first date. Both of them are nervous, but are really sweet with each other. Maybe it's the first date either of them have had in a long time or something, so they both agree to take it slow.
Great work with your writing! Can't wait to read/see this when it gets written!
First Time In Forever
Summary: You’ve not been on a date in ages, so you’re hopeful that this date with Gregor goes well.
Pairing: Captain Gregor x GN!Reader
Word Count: 627
Prompt: Emerald - Patient Love
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Hi there! Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I didn't actually write the date, because that would have definitely put me over my self imposed word limit, but I hope you like it anyway.
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You haven’t been on a date in what feels like ages.
It’s not your fault, not really. You’ve been so busy, what with the war and everything, that it kind of fell to the wayside, but things are different now.
The war is over.
And you’re able to get back to your normal life.
Of course, normal is subjective, and people just haven’t been interested in dating you.
You were starting to worry that you were never going to make a connection with anyone
and that’s when you met Gregor. Kind Gregor. Handsome Gregor.
Gregor who smiles at you like you’re a little confusing but keeps coming around anyway.
Gregor, who asked you to get ice cream with him today. Who sheepishly, and bashfully, admitted that it was a date but he was a little nervous using that word since you don’t date.
You weren’t sure how to tell him that you didn’t date because people weren’t interested in you, so you didn’t. You just accepted his offer. You like him, after all. He’s wonderful.
But now that today is here, you’re kind of
panicking.
You’ve been dumped by every person you’ve ever been on a date with. Clearly this is a ‘you’ problem since you're the only common denominator, and the idea of Gregor breaking up with you because of some personal failing that you aren’t aware of is
terrifying.
But, at the same time, you can’t not go. Because that might upset Gregor and you can’t do that.
So, after fretting over your appearance for a few more minutes, because it’s something you can control, you finally leave your apartment to head to the meeting point you and Gregor agreed on.
The both of you arrive at the same time, and the moment you see Gregor all of the nerves fly away, as though they were never there to begin with. How could you be nervous with him grinning at you like that? Like an excited schoolboy.
“You’re here!” He even sounds excited, and your heart does a little flip, though not from nerves this time.
“So are you.” You tease with a small grin.
“Well, yeah
” He pushes his hand through his hair, “I
ah, was kind of worried that you weren’t going to come.” Gregor admits, “My brothers had to reassure me that you would.”
“Well, honestly, I was a bit worried that you would change your mind when you saw me.” You admit as you lean closer to him, “I haven’t exactly had good luck with dating in the past.”
Gregor stares at you, “Never. I would never. You’re amazing. I’m a lucky man that you agreed to come on a date with me.” His smile is slightly lopsided, “But, uh
it’s been a bit since the last time I dated-”
“Oh, same. I haven’t been on a date since
Force
before the war started.”
Gregor releases a giggle, before he shakes his head, “Well, since it’s been a while, for us both, do you mind if we
go a bit slow?”
A smile blooms across your face, and you reach out to take his hands in yours. “I like you, Gregor. I think you’re funny and smart and kind and good
and I’d like to see where this goes. We can go as slow, or as fast, as you’d like.”
He squeezes your hands, “Well, I’m hoping for a possible forever with you, so there’s no need to rush, right?”
You beam at him, “Well, as it happens, I’m a very patient person.” You squeeze his hands back, “Because your hope sounds perfect to me.”
Gregor flashes a small, shy smile and then threads his fingers with yours, “Well then, shall we get this date started?”
“I can’t wait,” You reply with a small grin as you squeeze his hand.
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aziraphales-library · 6 months
Note
hi there, there's tons of good omens fics where aziraphale turns human and doesn't remember anything of their past while crowley stays near and protects him/befriends him/ etc. Are there any fics where crowley is the one turned human? I couldn't find any fitting tags :((
Hello. We have a #turned human tag that you can browse. Here are some fics in which Crowley is turned human or loses his memory at least believes he's human, some of which will have already been recommended...
Every Atom Belonging to Me by triedunture (T)
Crowley is rendered temporarily mortal after a run-in with a-- Well, it doesn't really matter. What matters is he needs to eat and sleep and do the things humans must do if only for one night. Aziraphale can help with the eating bit, at least. A cozy, sweet evening with tea, drinks, food, poems, and warm blankets.
The Good Demon by HolyCatsAndRabbits (T)
In this AU fic, Hell thinks the demon Crowley isn’t evil enough to merit the title of demon. As punishment, they turn him mortal, and if he wants his old job back with his powers and immortality, he’s got to seduce and cause the Fall of some angel named Aziraphale, who is serving as a campus chaplain, running a group for queer youth. Crowley thinks the assignment will be easy, until he meets the angel and his students, and discovers the kind of found family that he’s always wanted. There’s just one little problem: Crowley is a terrible danger to them all.
feel my fortune tell me by nobirdstofly (E)
“And you bet
 what? With whom?” “Oh, with me!” Muriel exclaims. “Mr. Crowley bet me that I couldn’t convince a customer I was human!” “Barmy woman,” Crowley fills in. “Think you could have told her the coatrack was a human.” He sounds so grouchy about it that Aziraphale wants to bundle him in a blanket and set him by the fire with spiked cocoa.
Crowley loses a bet and, temporarily, becomes a human. Aziraphale, predictably, frets.
Save Me by atimefeeler (T)
When Anthony wakes up in a hospital with no memory, he finds himself alone with nothing but a vaguely threatening note written in blood. In an attempt to save himself from an untimely death, Anthony goes about his life as if he wasn't currently suffering from memory loss. It really is too bad he can't figure out if his stunning partner if trying to kill him or not. Going on a date with him couldn't hurt, right? ... “Do you think perhaps you could come over to the bookshop?” Aziraphale asked, “I would so love to see you, dear.” “Yeah I- no!” Anthony nearly shouted and then clamped his hand over his mouth. “No? Why ever not?” “I can’t,” Anthony scrambled for what to say, “I’ve got-” ‘Diarrhea’ was on the tip of his tongue, but then Anthony caught a glimpse of his reflection in the black phone screen and blurted, “-an eye condition.” ... or- Crowley has no idea why his plan to pretend he doesn't have amnesia is proving to be so difficult. It might be because the poor guy is actually a demon.
Pray For Us, Icarus by Atalan (Series) (G-T)
For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...
- Mod D
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lunar-years · 1 month
Note
How’s the arm?
Tentative footsteps patter over the hardwood floor, inching closer; but it’s Jamie’s voice that reaches him first: “How’s the arm?”
Roy immediately bristles, unable to stop his voice from rising several decibels as he snaps, “I’ve already told you half a fucking dozen times in the past hour, Jamie, it’s the exact fucking same as it was twenty minutes ago, and yes I’m fucking fine, and I’ll kindly remind you again that you fucking promised me you’d stop fucking asking—” he stops mid-sentence, registering what exactly Jamie said at the same time the man crosses into his line of vision, letting Roy spot the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He blinks, momentarily thrown. Arm?
Jamie shrugs, and even that small motion is somehow made exuberant under his determinedly bright demeanor. His face breaks into a gleeful smile, ear-to-ear, right pleased with himself. 
Fucking hell. Roy has no idea how the prick has managed to stay this damn cheerful all day, considering he’s spent the whole of it waiting on his temporarily useless, opposite-of-cheerful boyfriend hand and foot. Keeping him confined to the miserable prison of his living room sofa, flipping through the sport channels with a commendable level of steady enthusiasm—even though the best they’ve had on offer were the bloody table tennis Olympic trials that ended an hour again—and fretting, every single second of every blasted minute, over Roy and his knee. Whether the pillow under Roy’s knee is fluffed enough, and whether Roy's morning brew has gone cold and could do for urgent replacement, and whether Roy needs help getting to the toilet before he pisses down his own leg. Jamie’s there all right, for all of it, and he’s bloody relentless. 
Roy appreciates it. Truly, he does. It’s also driving him completely up the fucking wall, just a little. Two things can be true. 
Jamie keeps right on smiling. “What?” he says innocently, sitting down next to Roy and handing over his latest freshly-warmed mug of tea, “I’m not having you on, it was a real question. Since you’re going to be a bit out of commission on the really agile shit for a while and all,” here he nods sympathetically in the direction of Roy’s mangled up, patchworked knee, the frankensteinish surgery scar thankfully covered up by fresh dressings (also courtesy of Jamie) and tucked atop Keeley’s fluffiest pillow. “Sorry,” he continues in a stage-whisper, hands going up like Roy's a feral cat he's trying not to set off, “know you want me to pretend like this ain’t happening, and I’m trying, swear down! But, well. Me point is, so long as your arm’s still in working form...we can at least exchange handies!” He beams at him again with great pride, like mutual handjobs are the certifiable cure to Roy’s every ailment, and Jamie’s the dutiful nurse who gets to present the good news and administer the necessary dosage.
(And well, a wank’s a wank, so. Roy’s willing to give it a shot.)
Instead of saying that, he chucks the pillow behind his back at his boyfriend's head and rolls his eyes in Jamie's direction, faking a pout. “All you care about is my cock,” he accuses half-heartedly. 
“Yes, poor, hard-done Roy, with a dead sexy boyfriend who wants him for his body as much as his mind,” Jamie grins, leaning in to give him a kiss. With lips practically still brushing Roy’s own, he adds, gentler, “I also thought, um. It might help, you know? With what you were saying earlier. I’m really sorry I made you feel like that.” 
Roy brow furrows. He wades back amongst all the day's many horrors to figure out which one in particular Jamie could be referring to. It must’ve been the last time, when he was snapping at the pair of them to stop bloody asking about his knee all the time. You’re both making me feel like a fucking pensioner. Then, to Jamie specifically, I’m not actually your fucking grandad, you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m two steps from the care home. It was around that time Keeley excused herself for a drive to the pharmacy, bristling at him with intense displeasure and that familiar get yourself together look in her eyes on her way out. Soon after, after an comfortable stretch of moody silence, Jamie muttered something about more tea, and disappeared into the kitchen for far longer than it took to whip up a new brew. 
So yeah, he owes them both an apology, clearly. Again.
He looks at his boyfriend, now aching with guilt on top of everything else, most pressingly the persistent sting that seems to extend his whole leg, making it very hard to focus on anything good, even his very good boyfriend. His very good boyfriend who’s only trying to help him. Fuck. 
Jamie’s still got his eyes locked on his, searching his face for reassurance. Hesitant, like he’s half expecting Roy to get angry and snap at him again for bringing it up. It’s so sincere it slices Roy smoothly in half.
“I,” he starts. Shuts his mouth. Starts again, “I’m sorry for that, babe. Look, I won't pretend I didn't mean some of it. I do feel
I dunno. Not even old, just
useless? I guess. But you’re not the one making me feel like that, it’s my own shit. I never should have said that to you, or to Keeley. I likehow you take care of me.” He threads his fingers through Jamie’s and gives them a squeeze. “It’s just
hard for me to let you.” He chokes over the last part a bit, from the clumsy embarrassment of his own feelings. Immediately redirects his gaze onto their locked palms.
But Jamie responds without hesitation, his shoulders already relaxing as he says briskly, “You’re forgiven.” Like it’s simple. Like Roy’s someone easy to forgive. Fuck, he still doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Jamie leans back, smile softer now, more natural. It takes on a cheeky edge as he adds, “And I know a way you can make it up to me, yeah?” with a wink and a crude hand gesture. Right back around to where they started.
Roy rolls his eyes again, filled with adoration for this ridiculous man. “We can’t fix everything with sex.” 
“We can make a brave go of trying, though," he offers solemnly, lips quirked.
Roy laughs despite himself, but it’s cut off by a sharp sting to his knee, making him wince before he can help it. His boyfriend’s face droops immediately. This time though, Jamie keeps his hands forcibly pinned to his sides, trying so hard not to hover, not to be too much. It makes Roy crack open even further. He really fucked this up.
“Can we wait for Keeley to get back first?” he suggests carefully, eyes meeting Jamie’s as his fingers brush circles on the back of his hand. “Ought to apologize to her, too.” 
“Definitely. Also, she’ll definitely enjoy this. Vulnerability really does it for her.” Jamie waggles his eyebrows playfully, seemingly resigned to brushing over the moment of tension, but Roy doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger for a second too long over Roy’s features, as if trying to catch the slightest grimace that could help him suss out Roy's pain level. Jamie needs him to be honest here; Roy forces himself to let him in. 
“I think I need my meds, first,” he admits. “Knee really fucking hurts. Got worse just now. And maybe, um
you could, with the pillow?” 
Jamie, perfect as he is, needs no further instruction. His hands fly towards the cushion, readjusting it carefully into a more supportive position. “Anything else, babe?” he asks as he fluffs, focus entirely on the pillow. 
“Jay.” 
His boyfriend’s head snaps up again, and Roy gestures him to slow down, and sit back. As soon as Jamie’s back’s against the sofa cushion again, Roy tosses his arm around him and tugs him in as close as possible. “I just want you,” he whispers. Then he lets himself shut his eyes and sink into the calm, knowing Jamie's got him. 
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