#this is the year I discovered them after all

[witchywithwhiskey]

ari levinson + "that sounds like an excuse, I want a confession"

optional scenario: ari as the devil 😈

that secret place in the garden

pairing: father's boss!ari levinson x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, piv sex, creampie, cockwarming, fingering (f receiving), outdoor sex, begging, teasing, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, light bdsm, little bit of bratting, pet names (buttercup), fluffy ending

word count: 3,200ish

a/n: ahh Aspen i struggled with this one a bit and it's not technically Ari as the devil, but i think there's some parallels you could draw if you squint 😅 hope you and everyone else enjoys!!! ♡

It was an unseasonably warm spring day—much too hot to be attending an outdoor party hosted at the mansion of your father’s boss, Ari Levinson. But, as you glanced around at the other attendees, you seemed to be the only one suffering beneath the overly bright and warm rays of the spring sun.

The terrace behind the mansion was filled with your father’s colleagues and their families, since Mr. Levinson had invited everyone to bring anyone they wanted to the party at his home in the countryside. The event was meant to celebrate a successful first quarter or something of the kind. You couldn’t quite remember since your eyes tended to glaze over whenever your father began talking about work.

Despite your father having worked for Mr. Levinson’s company for a number of years, you didn’t know very many people at the party. You’d trailed after your father for a little while, smiling dutifully when he’d boasted about your career to his colleagues. But when he began bemoaning the fact that you hadn’t found a husband yet, you’d excused yourself.

You’d wandered through the party looking for the only other person you knew, but when you didn’t find them, you’d stood at the edge of the crowd on the terrace, sipping a sweet, sparkling drink. You’d felt awkward, and your discomfort only grew when you noticed the looks you were getting. 

You’d worn a rather short sundress to the party, and you’d known when you put it on that it wasn’t quite appropriate for the gathering hosted by your father’s boss. The neckline dipped low on your chest, the fabric so thin you couldn’t wear a bra, and the bottom hem flirted around your upper thighs, showing off a nearly scandalous amount of skin. But it was such a hot day, and you’d worn the dress for someone special—someone who was supposed to be at the party but didn’t appear to be.

Frustrated by all the lecherous looks from the men who worked with your father, and the equally scathing glances from their wives and girlfriends, you slipped away from the terrace. Descending a set of stone steps into the gardens that spread out below the mansion, you breathed a sigh of relief as you escaped into the shaded lower grounds of the estate.

Strolling through the gardens, you admired the bright spring flowers and all the lush greenery that had only recently bloomed into life. Amid your wandering, you discovered a wrought iron gate set into a high stone wall and you followed your curiosity, pushing it open and discovering a secret garden beyond.

There were purple flowers and vines draping down the gray stone walls, and a rainbow of flowers circling the small garden. A stone fountain stood in the center, with water bubbling out of a fixture at the center that looked like a roaring lion. The water looked clean and clear and you bent down to trail your fingers through it, finding it was cool and refreshing. 

You were just debating whether to take off your shoes and dip your feet into the water to cool off when you heard a voice from behind you.

“I won’t tell anyone if you decide to jump in,” came a rumbling, familiar voice, “I’m sure it’d be a relief.”

Spinning around with a gasp, you found your father’s boss standing just inside the gate. Ari Levinson’s bright blue eyes were two twinkling stars even in the dazzling spring sunshine. You felt a warmth bloom within your heart, and a small smile curved your lips.

Ari looked endlessly polished, even on the hot day, and you couldn’t help but admire the older man as you took in the sky blue linen shirt and light pants he wore. When you finished your perusal of his outfit, your gaze met his. He made a show of trailing his eyes down your body and back up, giving you a wolfish grin, his eyes heating until they burned even more than the sun.

The look in your dad’s boss’s eye made you squirm, a delicious heat building between your thighs, and you turned back to the fountain, pretending to be unaffected. 

“It is an excessively hot day for an outdoor party,” you commented, keeping your tone light. Butterflies were rioting in your chest and you couldn’t stop yourself from twisting your fingers together in an effort to stop yourself from reaching for the older man. Your body felt attuned to his, and you could feel him as he prowled closer.

Ari came to a stop just behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, but not close enough to actually brush up against you. 

“Mm,” he hummed, acknowledging your words. “Whoever planned this party should’ve checked the weather.” His hand skimmed down just beside your arm, teasing you with the possibility of his touch but never quite making contact. A shiver raced down your spine, goosebumps raising all over your body even with the heat of the day.

“They should’ve,” you agreed in a whisper, forgetting what you were talking about as your mind went blank and your body trembled with need. You wanted to lean back into Ari’s chest, but you weren’t entirely certain it was such a good idea, especially with his party and all your father’s colleagues not too far away.

Thankfully, Ari made the decision for you, pressing his big palm to your stomach and easing you back against his chest. You let out a soft sigh of relief as you leaned against him. Ari was strong and steady at your back, your body relaxing into his familiar hold. 

“I looked for you,” you whispered, turning your face so you could look up at Ari over your shoulder. 

He ducked down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I was inside talking to some members of the board who refused to be out in the heat,” he murmured, an apology in his tone. Then he leaned back, giving you another wolfish grin. “But then I heard one of my manager’s daughters had come to the party wearing a skimpy little sundress,” he rumbled, his hands sliding down over your hips until his fingers flirted with the hem of your dress. “And somehow I knew it was you.”

You wanted to smile impishly, liking the idea that Ari had known it was you, but forced yourself to pout and flutter your lashes at your dad’s boss. “It’s such a hot day, Mr. Levinson, I only dressed appropriately for the weather,” you murmured in your sultriest tone, adding some breathiness to your voice that you knew Ari would like.

“Slutty girl,” Ari rumbled, his tone accusing but warm enough that you knew there was no anger behind it. “That sounds like an excuse, I want a confession.” His hands slid under your dress, his fingers digging into your soft thighs as he groped you and worked his way up to the place that ached for him. “You wore this dress just to tempt me in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, unable to keep up the ruse when your knees were quaking with desire. If it wasn’t for Ari’s strong arms holding you up, you were certain you would’ve collapsed to the ground at his feet. “I did—I wore it for you, daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” he rasped his praise right into your ear. His fingers brushed against your panties and you realized all at once how wet you were. When Ari groaned, you knew he’d noticed as well. “So wet for daddy, buttercup—have I been neglecting you too much?”

“Ye-yes, daddy, need you!” Your voice was a whine as you leaned more firmly back against Ari’s chest, letting him support your weight while his fingers tugged your panties to the side. A loud gasp tumbled from your lips and your head fell back against his shoulder when his thumb brushed over your clit. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you whimpered, your whole body shuddering with pleasure. 

“So pretty, buttercup,” Ari rumbled, his beard brushing against your cheek as he ducked down to press a kiss to your jaw. “Look so beautiful in your pretty little sundress, all dolled up for daddy.” Ari’s voice was warmer than the spring sunshine and it melted you further, your hands reaching up and sinking into his soft hair to hold onto him. “My gorgeous girl—all mine,” he said, his voice going lower and deeper and making your core clench for him.

Ari’s fingers dipped between the folds of your slit, playing with your desire and stroking your clit in soft little circles that had your hips stuttering forward and desperate mewls spilling from your mouth. “Daddy,” you cried on a gasp, unable to form any other word than the term of endearment that fit Ari so well. 

“Mm, need daddy’s cock, buttercup?” he asked, and you could hear the teasing smile in his tone. “Need daddy to fill up your achy little cunt?” 

“Yes, please,” you murmured sweetly, rolling your head to the side so you could look up at Ari. His eyes sparkled in the spring sunshine and his mouth curved in a charming smile. “Please fuck me, daddy,” you said, grinning when Ari’s eyes darkened. But you didn’t let him respond, grabbing his beard and pulling him down for a messy kiss.

Ari indulged you for a moment, then pulled away, leaving you gasping. He gripped your shoulder and gently eased you forward, bending you over so your hands were planted on the flat edge of the water fountain. Ari wasted no time in tugging your panties down your legs, helping you step out of them. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you watched Ari pocket your panties and bit your lip to hide your pleased smile. He caught it anyway. 

“You won’t be needing these,” Ari teased, shooting you a wink as he stood back up and worked his pants open. 

When you felt the tip of his cock slide between your thighs, pressing against your dripping folds, you let your head fall between your arms and moaned loudly. 

“Oh god,” you groaned as Ari began pushing inside you. He was so thick, it felt like he was splitting you open, but you loved every delicious moment it. “Oh my god,” you muttered on a gasp, the tip of Ari’s cock hitting the end of you, making your cunt clench around his thick length.

“You know I love it when you worship my cock, buttercup,” Ari rumbled as he curled around your back, his lips pressing a heated kiss to your bare shoulder. “But there’s no need to be so formal—daddy will do.” As he showered your shoulder blades in kisses, you could feel his self-satisfied grin against your skin.

Huffing a laugh, you squirmed your hips, fucking yourself back on his cock. “Then, fuck me, daddy,” you whined, rolling your hips forward and back, taking his hard length into your warm, slick cunt until both of you were moaning. “Daddy, please, need you,” you cried, your voice a pathetic whimper.

Ari chuckled against your shoulder, his hands digging into the top of your dress to knead your tits. “So needy today, buttercup,” he teasingly chastised you, tugging on your nipples until you let out a hoarse moan. “No one will find us in this garden, want to take my time with you.” He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, murmuring, “Missed you.”

A desperate mewling whine squeezed free from your throat, pleasure coursing through your body and making you tremble with need. “Missed you, too, daddy,” you whimpered, your body shuddering when Ari pulled out and thrust back inside you. “But you can take your time later, I need you to fuck me!” 

With another laugh, Ari turned your face toward him and kissed you, his tongue plunging between your lips and fucking your mouth the way you wished he’d fuck your pussy. Then he was standing up, gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d feel his fingerprints for days. 

“Alright, buttercup,” he rumbled, a grin in his voice, but when you looked back at him, you could see his darkened blue eyes focused on the place where your bodies joined. “You know daddy can’t resist giving you what you want—even if you are being a bit of a brat.” He glanced at your face and shot you another wink.

He looked so handsome beneath the springtime sun—a golden god in his secret garden, preparing to take you the way your body ached to be taken. It was everything you’d wanted from the day, and you were all too eager to urge him on with a cheeky quip.

“You love it when I’m a bit of a brat,” you teased, shooting him a flirty smile over your shoulder. Your expression didn’t last, though, because Ari pulled his cock almost all the way free of your body and slammed back inside, forcing a loud moan from you. 

“I do,” Ari agreed through gritted teeth, setting a brutal pace as he pounded into you from behind. “Now be a good girl for daddy and take the cock you begged for.” His fingers dug into the creases of your hips where you were bent over, pulling your body back onto his hard length as he surged forward.

It was all you could do to moan your response, focusing on keeping your knees locked beneath you and enjoying the feeling of Ari’s big cock splitting you open. Since he hadn’t told you to be quiet, you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, sobbing and crying and moaning your pleasure while he fucked you into oblivion.

Ari worked you up until you were on the precipice of your release, and then he slid one of his hands between your plush thighs, rubbing your clit as he muttered, “Come for daddy, buttercup, lemme feel that tight cunt milk my cock, gonna fill you up.” The sharp clapping sound of Ari’s hips slapping against your ass and thighs filled your ears along with his voice and you were lost.

You came with a hoarse scream, pleasure crashing through your body and making your arms and legs tremble violently as you forced yourself to stay in position. Your body went tight as mindless moans spilled from your lips and your pussy squeezed Ari’s cock hard enough to send him over the edge of his own release. 

“Good girl, good girl,” he rasped, his hips stuttering as he rutted into you. Then he pressed deep into your cunt and groaned. You felt his cock twitch as he came inside you, his fingers digging possessively into your hips while you rode out the waves of your own pleasure.

For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that, reveling in your releases together, Ari’s hands idly massaging your hips while you caught your breath. 

Then with a soft groan, Ari began maneuvering your still shuddering body to sit with him on the flat edge of the water fountain. Keeping your bodies connected, his softening cock buried deep in your cunt, he helped you pull your shoes off, then shed his own and rolled up his pants. He spun your bodies to dunk both your feet into the cool water.

You sighed in relief and melted back into Ari’s chest, his arms holding you tight so you wouldn’t slip off his cock. “Feels good, daddy,” you murmured, turning your head and burying your face into Ari’s beard beneath his jaw. 

“Good girl,” he said softly, brushing a kiss to your temple as he splashed water on your legs, chilling your heated skin. “Just let daddy take care of you.” 

You hummed a sleepy, pleased sound, tiredness from the hot day and your afternoon delight with Ari making you want to take a nap. But Ari’s next words had you jerking upright, feeling fully awake.

“I was thinking it might be time to tell your parents about us,” Ari said gently, his hands smoothing over your body, fixing your dress back over your chest and generally trying to keep you calm even as your heart began racing. He seemed to know you were panicking because he turned your face to his over your shoulder and gave you a serious look. “I’m tired of sneaking around, I want to show you off proudly.”

Glancing down at the skimpy little dress you’d worn for the sole purpose of torturing him, you pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your reservations. But you’d been seeing Ari long enough that he knew how to read you—better than you would’ve expected, in fact.

“We don’t have to tell anyone today,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gave you another serious look. “But I don’t want your father finding out about us at our wedding.”

You gasped—Ari had never mentioned marriage before and it came as a surprise, even if you’d been seeing him for almost a year. Your body clenched in delight, which meant your pussy tightened around Ari’s cock and he stirred within you. He narrowed his eyes at you in an expression that told you he wouldn’t be distracted by your body.

As much as you were able, you turned to Ari and cupped his face in your hands, your fingers sinking into his thick beard. “We’ll tell him together, next week,” you promised, leaning up and kissing Ari. “Can we have a spring wedding, daddy?” you asked sweetly when you pulled away.

Ari chuckled and squeezed you in his arms. “You know I can’t resist giving you what you want, buttercup,” he said by way of an answer, laughing harder when you squealed with happiness. He caught your lips in a messy kiss, his laughter devolving into a moan when you rocked your hips in his lap, grinding on his cock until he was thick and hard inside you again. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you stayed with Ari in that secret garden, indulging in each other’s bodies beneath the spring sunshine until it grew late and you were forced to part. 

A week later, you and Ari sat your parents down at their home over brunch and confessed to your secret relationship. Though your father was shocked, Ari explaining his intention to marry you seemed to go a long way to soothe any ruffled feathers. By the end of the meal, your parents were happy for you, and your father looked genuinely pleased to be welcoming his boss into the family.

A year later, on a warm—but not unseasonably so—spring day, you married Ari on the terrace at his country house in front of all your friends and family. The reception was held there as well, and as the afternoon turned to evening, you and your new husband slipped away from the party for a little while. You snuck down the stairs to the grounds, running hand in hand to that secret place in the garden where the two of you might be alone. 

Beneath the stars, in your secret garden, you came together, for the first time as husband and wife, and you couldn’t have been happier.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #witchywithwhiskeywork #buckets-and-trees

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

I was going to post a different au idea tonight, but this idea caught me in a death-grip and would not let me go, so enjoy!

Note: You can find the translations for the old English at the end!

In this au, Merlin dies at Camlann instead of Arthur, and his magic was diffused into the king and kingdom he so loved upon his death, making everyone in Camelot immortal. After a few centuries of thriving though, Merlin's magic starts to fade, and everyone falls into an almost comatose state. It keeps them all alive and protected the kingdom from intruders, but it could not keep them awake. However, the people of Camelot did not worry about this. Both the druids and the dragon had proclaimed that Merlin would return to the world of the living again one day. So, they were content to sleep peacefully and await the day of their friend's return. Slowly, the earth rose up to swallow Camelot, and the sleeping kingdom was buried underneath the earth.

Fast forward to modern day, and Merlin's been reincarnated without any of his memories or his magic. He winds up as an archeologist, and eventually is sent out to a promising dig site on the border between England and Wales. There, his team unearths a window into an old fortress. Their sonar equipment has revealed a full castle underneath their feet, and they have everything prepped for a preliminary excavation! They've already found coins and a few blades on the site, dating back to the 6th century!

Now, stories of the "immortal kingdom of Camelot" and its undying and legendary king Arthur were commonplace, and Merlin quite enjoyed those stories as a child. However, historians doubted if Camelot was ever a real kingdom at all, and no one past the age of six believed in an immortal kingdom! Merlin, deep down, was hoping that the dig site was indeed the historical kingdom Camelot itself, as much of the kingdom's history had been lost and buried under ridiculous myths about magic and dragons.

However, the issue is that the window that they discovered is pretty small. Merlin, as the skinniest out of all of them, would probably be the only one who could fit through it. Excitedly, Merlin puts on his safety harness and hard hat and descends through the window and into the castle.

Merlin explores for a bit, constantly telling the team on the surface all about the amazingly preserved artifacts in the castle. There's tapestries, suits of armor, furniture, even clothing still in wardrobes all in perfect condition! The entire team is besides themselves with excitement! They've just made the most important discovery of their careers!

Merlin spends a few more days exploring the castle by himself. Eventually, he comes to a rather impressive and ornately decorated door and decides to find out what's behind it. It must be something pretty important to warrant such an impressive door! Perhaps the throne room?

As he opens the door though, he lets out a loud gasp, shocked by two things in the room. First, the large round table in the middle of the room. He knew that he was near the supposed site of the lost kingdom of Camelot, but this confirmed it! All of the legends spoke about king Arthur's round table, and here it was before him, confirming the legends!

However, Merlin's elation was dashed by the second thing he noticed: bodies. There were bodies occupying the seats around the table, all of them slumped over or slouching in their seats with their eyes closed, but they were not skeletal remains that should have been there, seeing as how no one had set foot in those room for hundreds of years. No, these people looked like they had only been there for a day, with no signs of decay on them.

As Merlin's fear began to rise, he tried to reason with himself. Maybe this kingdom had surprisingly advanced embalming techniques and had unusual burial rituals? What other explanation could there possibly be?

As Merlin reported the bodies to his colleagues on the surface, they warned him to be careful is something didn't feel right, which it certainly didn't. Something about these bodies creeped Merlin out in a way that no other human remains had ever done. However, Merlin's unease lessened somewhat as he described the bodies to his colleagues, his excitement at such a well-preserved find started eclipsing his fear.

There were in total five male bodies and one female body, with four of the male bodies being clad in chainmail, surcoats, trousers, and long bright red capes with an insignia of a golden dragon sown into it. The other male body was similarly clad in chainmail and a cape, but wore a golden crown on his head. Lastly, the lone female body, who was sitting to the left of the crowned male body, was a dark-skinned woman wearing an ornate and richly decorated dress along with a small silver crown on her head.

Merlin's heart stuttered in his chest as he came to the natural conclusion of these observations: he had just found the perfectly-preserved bodies of a king, queen, and four knights. Forget making his career, Merlin was going to be put in the history books for this discovery! Quickly, he called his colleagues (who had finally found a way to safely widen the entrance at the window) to follow the line of his harness and join him in the room he had just found. They needed to see this!

Finally turning away from the bodies, Merlin let his gaze wander around the room. He takes note of the impressively high ceilings for the time period, the repetition of the dragon crest on decorations around the room, and the designs carved into the wood of the round table. However, one of the most intriguing elements of the room, was the lone empty chair sitting next to the king.

The fact that there was only one empty chair was strange enough, but there were a few even stranger elements to the chair. The chair was directly to the right of the king, presumably reserved for the king's right hand, his chief advisor. Why would such an important figure be missing here? Another puzzling feature of the chair was the scrap of red cloth that was tied around one of the arms of the chair.

Stepping closer to examine the little piece of cloth, he could see at first glance that the cloth was old, battered, and made with cheap material, unlike the richer cloth that made up the knights' and kings' capes. What was this random piece of cloth doing tied around the arm of this chair, which presumedly belonged to a powerful figure in the kingdom?

A sudden piercing shriek caused Merlin to jump into the air. He looked up and across the table, relieved to see that it was just four of his colleagues who had just entered the room. They must've been freaked out by the well-preserved bodies too! Merlin certainly couldn't blame them for such a reaction.

Merlin chuckled a bit and spoke to his frightened coworkers. "Well, what did I tell you? This is going to shock the world! We've just made the discovery of a lifetime!"

However, his colleagues were only getting paler by the second, not even looking at him, instead looking... past him? Merlin frowned a bit and turned to look over his left shoulder, at the body of the king, which was where his coworkers were staring. What could possibly...

His eyes were open. His eyes were definitely not open before.

As soon as his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing, Merlin let out a panicked shriek and flung himself backwards, away from the king who he swore was dead just a second ago what the fuck was happening?!

Unfortunately, Merlin desperate attempt to get away from the maybe-undead king sent him sprawling to the ground, having tripped over the empty chair, and his shriek had jolted his colleagues into action. The four of them ran forwards and grabbed ahold of Merlin, dragging him back towards the entrance to the room while never taking their eyes off of the maybe-undead king.

As they made their way back to the entrance though, something truly horrifying happened. The king moved. He blinked and moved his neck to track their movements.

Oh god, that thing was awake and aware that they were here! They needed to get out of there!

Together, the group turned and ran as quickly as they could back towards the entrance. Horrifyingly, as soon as they were out of sight of the king, they could hear the screeching sound of a chair sliding against the stone floor. Each one of them could feel their hearts pounding with fear as they all realized at once: the king, whatever he was, was going to chase after them.

They nearly all have heart attacks when they hear a voice roaring after them, "Gripan híe! Híe syndon fandian to niman Myrddin!"

After a tense few minutes of running with the terrifying echo of boots chasing after them ringing in their ears, they finally reached the hallway connecting to their window entrance. They could see the light outside! They were almost free!

Fear gripped all of their chests, however, when a group of what should have been corpses blocked their path, cutting them off from the sight of the daylight. For a second, Merlin thought about making a break for it and attempts to run through them, but then the probably-undead knights unsheathed their swords (which were still somehow sharp and pristine after 1500 years, this was getting ridiculous!)

The group quickly turned around, hoping to run back and perhaps find another path towards their freedom, only to have their hopes dashed by the sight of the undead king storming towards them with his sword (why was it golden?) unsheathed and rage in his eyes.

Looking between them, the closest thing that they had to a weapon were a couple hard hats. They were doomed, and they could see their death marching towards them.

Getting closer, the king furiously shouted at them again with unfamiliar words. "Hū darrst þū āsceacan hine from mē! Iċ hæbbe bīdode ofer þūsend geara for þisne tīman, and þū ātēowedest tō nīefre hine from mē stelan! Þū scealt āgildan for þis!"

The group of five archeologists are shaking in their boots at this point, fearing for their lives. Each of them had reached the only logical conclusion about their ludicrous and possibly deadly situation: they must have woken the king and his knights from their eternal rest, and they were now angry at the archeologists for disturbing their final resting place.

As the knights close in on them and grab ahold of each of them, they're all prepared for the worst. As the king barks commands at the knights, all of the archeologists are prepared to be meet with some horrible death.

"Nimðað þa ungewelwieras to ðære cyrcan cwellan, wē magon dēmian mid him æfter. Gwaine, nim Myrddin to his geardas and hafa Gaius locian ofer hine. And be mildheort, he sceal hæbbe geferod eft fram Avalon and mæg swilc bēon in pinunge fram his wundum! Gecyða eft to mē mid Gaius's gemetungum þonne hē geendod hæfð."

At the king's commands, the knights nodded, and while Merlin was led down the hallway to the right, the others were led back down the dark hallway from which they had fled. Merlin tried to call out to his colleagues and to shove his way out of the knight's grip, but the knight responded by picking Merlin up and slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, eliminating Merlin's ability to fight back.

Merlin tried to calm his mind and to avoid thoughts of what horrible fate would be in store for him at his destination. His treacherous mind spun up terrible theories as to why he had been separated from his group, each one more horrifying than the last.

Finally, the knight seemed to have arrived at his destination. As the knight pushed the door open, Merlin tried to brace himself for what horrible instruments of torture were surely inside.

However, there were no torture instruments at all. There were only sheets of paper strewn about, some herb bundles here and there, lots of little vials and pots scattered around, and an old man slowly walking towards them.

The old man blinked in what looked like surprise, followed by tears seeming to brim in his eyes. What the hell was going on?! The man spoke softly, "Is hit sōþlīce hē? Āh, mīn cniht, þū eart eft tō ūs āgēan cuman! Hēr, Hlāford Gwaine, sete hine dūn on þæt cot and hæbbe hine his scyrte āweg þæt ic mæg gesēon gif his wund is ēac þǣr."

The knight deposited Merlin gently on a nearby small bed and gave him some sort of smirk before speaking to him in a surprisingly gentle, almost teasing, voice, "Þu gehyrde þone wer, Myrddin! Of mid þinum scyrte nu. Ic wat þu maegst beon sceamful be þan, ac þises sio tid is swiðe aðele."

When Merlin could do nothing but stare at the knight, more bewildered than he's ever been in his life, the knight seemed to take offense to his inaction and began tugging at the bottom of Merlin's shirt, trying to pull it over his head. After a brief struggle, the knight emerged victorious, holding Merlin's shirt in his hands and grinning like a loon. Why on earth had the knight wanted his shirt of all things? What was he about to be subjected to?!

After a tense few minutes, the old man pottered over to where Merlin was sitting, bringing a small bag along with him. The man then began looking over Merlin's torso, paying particular attention to a certain to a spot underneath Merlin's ribs, prodding it repeatedly.

Merlin was quite uncomfortable being examined like this, but with an undead knight in the room still armed with a sword, there wasn't much Merlin could do to without risking getting stabbed. Well, at least the old man wasn't hurting him, so he supposed that he could look on the bright side and be grateful for that.

Eventually, the old man seemed satisfied with his examination of Merlin and addressed the knight again. "Hwæt, he þinceð tō bēon on sīðfæt hāl! Þū mæġst secgan Ārthūre þæt ic blīðe eom tō secgenne þæt ic ne mihte findan nān tācn his ǣrran lȳtlunge."

The knight nodded at the old man, looking pleased at whatever he had just been told. Then, the old man turned to him and handed him the small bag. "Min cniht, ic eom swiðe blīð tō gesēon þē eft. Þū eart swīðe þearle gewilnod! Hēr, wē hæfdon sume þīnra reafa gehealdene for þē! Ic trowe þæt þū þē beteran gefēlan wille þonne þū sum þing gelīclicre gescēawian."

Merlin gently took the bag from the old man and tentatively opened it and pulled out its contents. Inside the bag were a scratchy red tunic, a pair of old trousers, a brown jacket, a thin leather belt, and a scrap of blue cloth. Merlin looked up at the knight and the old man, unsure of what to make of these clothes.

The knight just rolled his eyes, snatched the tunic out of Merlin's hands, and started pulling the tunic over Merlin's head. Did they... did they want Merlin to put on the clothes? That seemed like the correct answer, as they looked happy when Merlin complied and put on the tunic, and they pushed Merlin towards a small room in the back of the chambers with the clothing still in his hands.

Alright, Merlin thought to himself, he would change clothes in this odd little broom closet if that kept him from being stabbed.

(And he did not acknowledge the part of his mind that swore that he knew this room, that this room was his. That was ridiculous, he had never seen this place before in his life!)

After putting on the trousers, belt, and jacket, all Merlin was left with was the scrap of blue cloth. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? Should he keep it in his pocket or something?

However, it seemed like his hands moved before his mind had a chance to catch up, as his hands, seemingly of their own accord, wrapped the blue cloth around his neck a couple time before typing it in the front. Huh, that was strange. Merlin normally didn't wear scarves, why did he know that this piece of cloth was a scarf?

It was... strange. However, there were more pressing matters at hand, namely not getting killed by undead medieval knights. After taking a deep, calming breath, Merlin opened the door and stepped back out into the main room, where the old man and the knight were waiting for him.

They both smiled at the sight of him, and the knight quickly slung an arm over Merlin's shoulders, said what was presumably a goodbye to the old man, and started leading Merlin back out they way they came.

At this point, Merlin started struggling again. If he could just escape from this knight, he could get back to the surface and gather a rescue team to save the others! But the knight's grip of him was tight, and after a certain amount of Merlin's struggling, the knight just sighed and threw Merlin over his shoulder again. Damn it!

Merlin tried to reference places that he had already seen as the knight dragged him deeper into the castle. An escape route would be essential if he was going to make it out of here alive. However, Merlin's hope was quickly running dry as he was carried further and further away from the only exit to this godforsaken castle and further away from any area that he had explored so far.

What's worse was that, as they went, Merlin could see more and more undead (maybe undead? what else could they be?) people throughout the castle. And it wasn't just knights either: there were guards, servants, and even what looked like noblemen and noblewomen running around the castle. What made all of this truly eerie for Merlin though, is that all of them would stop and stare as soon as they saw him. Even though he was dressed like one of them, they could still somehow tell that he was an outsider, not one of their number.

After what felt like an eternity, the knight finally stopped in front of a large door and put Merlin down. Merlin's dread skyrocketed as the guards opened the doors and the knight dragged him inside.

The room itself was richly decorated, with a dining table, a study, and a plush canopy bed. If looked like a room fit for... a king.

Oh no.

As if summoned by Merlin's thoughts, the king rounded a corner and appeared before them, thankfully looking less angry than before, but still sending Merlin's fear into overdrive. Merlin jumped at the sound of doors slamming shut behind him, leaving him trapped with the king.

Merlin was sure that he was shaking terribly, but he managed force his joint to work and took a step backwards as the king began to approach him. Merlin continued to back away from the king until his back met the cold, unyielding wood of the door. Slowly, the king stepped towards Merlin, his eyes never leaving Merlin's form.

In what was entirely too short of a time period in Merlin's opinion, the king had closed the distance between them and was within an arm's reach of Merlin. Merlin's eyes desperately darted around for a weapon, anything he could possibly use the defend himself with, but there was nothing that he could reach.

As the king took one last step closer to Merlin, Merlin closed his eyes and braced himself for pain, even death. However, to his shock, no pain came. Instead, the felt the king's warm hands on his shoulders, and without warning, he was roughly pulled into a hug. What the actual fuck?!

Through the king's ragged breathing, he could hear more of those unfamiliar words, this time spoken tenderly.

"Oh Myrddin, hwǣr eart þū bēon?"

TRANSLATIONS:

Gripan híe! Híe syndon fandian to niman Myrddin! = Catch them! They're trying to take Merlin!

Hū darrst þū āsceacan hine from mē! Iċ hæbbe bīdode ofer þūsend geara for þisne tīman, and þū ātēowedest tō nīefre hine from mē stelan! Þū scealt āgildan for þis! = How dare you try to take him from me! I have waited over a thousand years for this moment, and you've attempted to steal him from me! You must pay for this!

Nimðað þa ungewelwieras to ðære cyrcan cwellan, wē magon dēmian mid him æfter. Gwaine, nim Myrddin to his geardas and hafa Gaius locian ofer hine. And be mildheort, he sceal hæbbe geferod eft fram Avalon and mæg swilc bēon in pinunge fram his wundum! Gecyða eft to mē mid Gaius's gemetungum þonne hē geendod hæfð. = Take the intruders to the dungeon cells, we can deal with them later. Gwaine, take Merlin to his chambers and have Gaius look over him. And be gentle, he must have just come back from Avalon and could still be in pain from his wounds! Report back to me with Gaius's findings when he's done.

Is hit sōþlīce hē? Āh, mīn cniht, þū eart eft tō ūs āgēan cuman! Hēr, Hlāford Gwaine, sete hine dūn on þæt cot and hæbbe hine his scyrte āweg þæt ic mæg gesēon gif his wund is ēac þǣr. = Is it really him? Oh, my boy, you've returned to us! Here, Sir Gwaine, set him down on the cot and have him take his shirt off so I can see if his wound is still there.

Þu gehyrde þone wer, Myrddin! Of mid þinum scyrte nu. Ic wat þu maegst beon sceamful be þan, ac þises sio tid is swiðe aðele. = You heard the man, Merlin! Off with your shirt now. I know you can be shy about it, but this time it's pretty important.

Hwæt, he þinceð tō bēon on sīðfæt hāl! Þū mæġst secgan Ārthūre þæt ic blīðe eom tō secgenne þæt ic ne mihte findan nān tācn his ǣrran lȳtlunge. = Well, he seems to be in perfect health! You can tell Arthur that I am pleased to report that I could find no sign of his previous injury.

Min cniht, ic eom swiðe blīð tō gesēon þē eft. Þū eart swīðe þearle gewilnod! Hēr, wē hæfdon sume þīnra reafa gehealdene for þē! Ic trowe þæt þū þē beteran gefēlan wille þonne þū sum þing gelīclicre gescēawian. = My boy, I am so deeply glad to see you again. You have been dearly missed! Here, we've saved some of your clothes for you! I'm sure that you'll feel better wearing something familiar again.

Oh Myrddin, hwǣr eart þū bēon = Oh Merlin, where have you been?

Well, I hope you guys liked this au! What I originally planned to be a short little prompt turned into this beast of a post! I probably won't be able to post on Friday (since I'm planning on adding a new chapter to my fic on ao3 on Friday or Saturday), so hopefully this will tide you all over until the weekend!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

(And please let me know if you'd like a continuation of this au!)

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin au #protective arthur #merthur #merlin prompts

[sjwallin]

Presenting “Round Peg Square Hole”…

I’m so thrilled to be able to share this recording of my newest e-violin solo with you (and the sheet music is available, too, for those who’d like to play this themselves)!

Do you ever feel like you don't fit in, no matter how hard you try? As an autistic adult, I'm slowly discovering who I am after over 40 years of intense masking. I'm accepting now that I never have and never will "fit in", and that's ok. :)

This piece is for all those whose minds see the world a little differently from everyone else around them. The "Round Peg" is represented in the circular flow of the triple-based rhythms, and the "Square Hole" is found in the duple-based patterns. Even though the duples are strong, the triples maintain their integrity and still, somehow, manage to flow within the surrounding world.

#electric violin #music #loops #electroacoustic #idm #modern classical #women composers #neurodiversity #SoundCloud

[3eyesdivine]

Babysitter

long awaited and heavily requested.

warnings ; 18 + only, smut, foreplay, intimate and highly sexual scene, teasing, dirty talk, age gap ( 21 & 38 )

Faye had been babysitting her neighbor's kid for years, and the two had developed an unshakable connection. Her neighbor was a six-foot-three Samoan-Italian man in his late thirties who had little time for women in his life. He was a busy man who was always on the road, so Faye became someone he trusted to look over his child.

Unfortunately for Faye, she had strong feelings for the man.

He goes by the name Roman Reigns and is a professional wrestler. His physique was beautiful, breathtaking enough to halt any lady in her tracks. Aside from his long black locks and nicely trimmed facial hair, what tied it all together were his large and broad shoulders, rough and massive hands, and overall towering height. 

"I'm home!" The woman hears a deep, rich voice speak. Her head snaps up, and she notices Roman hovering over her while she played dolls with the man's child. The little girl jumps up and travels into her father's arms, where he wraps her in a strong hug.

Faye gets up, holding the dolls, and smiles at the sight.

Roman looks at the woman and holds up a finger for a quick second. "Wait right here, I'ma get her to sleep." 

Faye nods as she watches the two walk down the hall and enter the bedroom on the right. After a few minutes, the man returned. His gaze was fixed on Faye as he took off the jacket that matched the rest of his attire, and she watched him swing it over the back of the couch. 

The woman smiled and began gathering her belongings to leave, but was deterred by Roman, who placed a hand on her bag, prompting Faye to look up and gaze at the man in confusion. 

"Stay for a while, have a drink with me. Have you eaten?" He questions, taking the woman's things and placing them back onto the couch. 

Faye smiled. "Uh, no. I haven't eaten actually. I maybe had a snack or two though.” 

The big man shook his head and grabbed her hand, leading her to the kitchen. 

"Since I can't be home all the time, I prepare meals for my daughter.." He trails off, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a couple sealed containers in which contained prepared food that looked absolutely delicious. 

Faye smiles and moves next to him, watching as he took the tops off of each one. "Oh, wow. Roman, these look amazing." She complimented, looking back up at him before scooting the food away. 

Roman watched her, brows furrowing together, as his mood dipped slightly and his thoughts filled with embarrassment and puzzlement. 

"To be honest, Roman. I'm not hungry but there is something I need to tell you and get off of my chest. Can we talk in your room?" She says. The woman felt anxious as she felt she was way too young for this man, seventeen year age gap too young, to be precise. She didn't want to sever their friendship, but it was the right thing to do.

Right?

Walking into the man's room, the two sit on the edge of his bed, each holding a glass of red wine. 

Faye places her glass on her lap and keeps her eyes fixed on the ground as she begins to confess what she'd felt was like a sin. Her family would kill her if they discovered she had feelings for a man who was nearly forty years of age.

"Roman, there's no other way to say this and I know it's wrong and i'm so sorry." The young woman takes a deep breath before continuing. "I like you, a lot."

The air in the room was dense, and Faye wouldn't dare to even peek at the man.

"Have you ever been with an older man before?" He inquires. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the man stand up and take his spot in front of her. 

She felt rough hands grasp her jaw delicately, drawing her eyes away from her lap and up to the broad man standing over her with that dominant aura that suited his whole presence. Faye shook her head, and time seemed to slow down. Roman let his hand fall from her face and onto his black leather belt.

The woman felt herself getting wet as soon as she saw how easily he unbuckled his belt with one hand, having her willing to risk everything. 

"Let me show you the heaven men my age can bring you to that these young men know nothing about, doll. Hm?" He bragged, his voice sounding enticing, aided by his raspiness and an abrupt dip in octaves. 

Faye nodded, allowing the man to push her down upon the burgundy  bedding. His hands wandered her covered body, and he could feel his cock hardening and showing. The woman looked down and felt hot considering how big he was; his bulge was brutally evident, and his print was huge. 

Roman followed the woman's eyes and smiled with a deep chuckle. "You see that, ma? I bet you ain't ever had nobody fill you up like I'm bout to." 

The woman's chest heaved up and down wildly, her mind felt fuzzy, and she felt so lightheaded from delectation that she hadn't noticed she was entirely exposed from hip to feet, the man's face buried against her thighs as he left a path of kisses up to her wet cunt. 

Finally, his lips reached her lower ones, and he kissed her naked skin, spreading her pussy to kiss on her clit before opening his mouth to allow his tongue to explore her hole and taste her juices. His oral abilities demonstrated a wealth of expertise, demonstrated by the way he'd flatten his tongue here and there as he delivered long, slow licks to the way he lapped at her pussy and ate it like he'd been starving for far too long. 

"Oh! Yes, Roman, Yes!" The woman yelled and as a result was greeted by a hand slapping against her mouth in an attempt to keep her quiet. 

With his free hand, the man pushed two thick fingers into the woman's slippery entrance, finger fucking her at just the right tempo; everything he did felt almost too perfect, but the woman hadn't gotten the complete experience.

Faye felt like she was on cloud nine; she could feel her orgasm emerging  swiftly, and she knew the man was feeling it as well when she clenched around his fingers while he groaned against her pussy. Pulling his mouth away, he sped up the tempo of his fingers and grinned as the woman's back raised off of the bed, spilling her juices all over the sheets and the man's shirt. 

"Fuck, ma." He whispered, his hand moving away from her mouth and down to her thighs, spreading them apart to get a better view at how much she had come and, more importantly, the mess she made. 

Sucking her nectar off of his fingers, the man stands up and picks the woman up with ease before flipping her onto her stomach. 

He positions her on all fours, shifting her a few times until her ass was situated just as he liked it. Finally releasing his cock, the man moans in relief and strokes himself a few times before setting himself against Faye's pussy. The man slipped in slowly and gently, reaching forward and forming a ponytail of the woman's hair as he held it and drove her head back slightly. 

Faye's mouth dropped open, enjoying the painful way her pussy stretched out to fit the man's cock inside of her. It hurt so much, but it also made her even fucking wetter. This was the only form of pain she'd tolerate and deal with as the needy woman she was for him. 

"I know it hurts, baby. You're taking daddy's dick so good." He praised, slowly picking up his pace and tightening his rough grip on her hair. 

The room was warm and smelled like sex. Their bodies were sweaty, and the way the moon's dazzling light shined into the man's room and nestled upon their skin was like a work of art. 

Roman's thrusts increased in speed, striking hard and deep, as he bent down and locked his lips with the hers. The two groaned into the kiss, drool traveling down the woman's mouth, which the man quickly cleaned by licking from the bottom of her chin and back up to her mouth before engaging in a kiss more intense than the last. 

Roman's hip motions became merciless as he withdrew from Faye's lips. He pushed the woman's face into the pillows and hammered in her pretty cunt relentlessly. 

Faye couldn't keep herself quiet for the life of her, hence it was a good thing her face was buried into the soft padding beneath her head. The sensation of his dick massaging her walls, exactly like his fingers had done a few minutes prior, was too much. She was already shaking and twitching as she was coming up on her second orgasm. Her body was utterly incapable of being motionless. 

"You gon' come huh, princess?" Roman grunts, pulling his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth. "Gon' head, mama. Come." 

Faye's head was spinning as she came hard and soaked the man's big dick in her secretions. Shortly after, the man came, filling the woman up with his warm load. By now, the man's hair was most likely damp from perspiration, and the sheets were a deeper crimson from both bodies' sweat and the woman's two intense orgasms. 

Pulling out, Roman laid down and pulled Faye's body on top of his. 

"You're all mine now, darling. Understood?" He spoke confidently yet breathy to which the woman responded with a weak nod before drifting off into a deep slumber. 

Tags ; @headoftheetable , @wonderingfashion , @bijouxcarys , @jstarr86 (if I didn’t tag you it’s because you do not have any indication on your page of being 18 or older, sorry !)

Here’s that fic you’ve all been waiting for! I put my soul into this at this point so I hope you all enjoy, lol!

As always, requests are always open! Much love.

#jey uso #jey uso wwe #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jimmy uso #jimmy uso wwe #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso x reader #Roman reigns #wwe roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #solo sikoa #solo sikoa wwe #solo sikoa fanfiction #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa x reader #tama tonga #tama tonga wwe #tama tonga fanfiction #tonga loa #tonga loa wwe #tonga loa fanfiction #the bloodline #the bloodline wwe #the bloodline smut #the bloodline x reader

[dancingtotuyo]

drabble. love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: some days, the fear still lingers.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, panic attack, hurt & comfort

Notes: yeah I saw that picture too and it sparked a bunch of inspiration.

Words: 787

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Peace is hard to come by in this world. Even within the protected walls of Jackson, it alludes you with ease, but you manage to find small pockets of it. As your life has changed, as you’ve grown these past couple of years, it’s easier to come by. Joel’s hand in yours on your evening walks. Mornings spent in his arms. Pancake breakfasts with your kids. Ellie’s continued fascination with everything new. The rise and fall of Carter’s chest as he sleeps, limbs spread like a starfish. Willa’s head on your chest. Joel’s soft snores. It’s so easy now, lulling you into a false sense of security. 

It hits you without warning from time to time, the fear of losing everything again. You can be standing in the kitchen laughing at a joke and that little voice echoes that it’s only a matter of time before the hundredth shoe of your life drops. Sometimes you can push it away, diving back into the moment, but not always. 

Joel seems to sense it if he’s around, the tense of your shoulders, the glaze of your eyes, and the way you still. That’s what happens tonight with Carter chatting on at the kitchen table as he colors and Willa cooing contently as she plays with her newly discovered hands in a laundry basket as you chop vegetables. 

Joel’s hand covers yours, guiding you to safely set the knife down. His callused finger traces your hairline from forehead to your ear. “What do you need, Sweetheart?” 

You feel his warmth so close, yet giving you the space you need. Your mouth’s gone dry. You repeat the words in your head. You need to get outside. You need to move. You need to be alone. “Walk,” is all you manage to get out. 

“Alone?”

“Yeah…” 

“Go. I’ve got things covered here.” 

You nod, moving instantly toward the front door. You hear Carter ask where you’re going but you feel far removed from it all. 

Only once you’re at the farthest point from the houses, at the edge of the cattle fields do you slump to the ground, surrendering to the panic in your body. Tears race down your cheeks, chest tightening with each breath as you ride it out. 

The sun is set when you enter your home. Carter is practicing his reading on the couch. He offers you a smile and a hug when you come in. Your body is exhausted, but it helps soothe you. 

“Daddy took Willa upstairs.”

You smile, running your hand over his head and kissing his cheek. “Thank you, buddy.”

He beams at you before returning to his spot on the couch. You’re halfway up the stairs when Joel’s singing greets you, pulling you in like the ocean tide. The room is dim, the only light coming from the open door. 

Joel sits in the rocking chair, his head tipped back against the headrest and eyes close. Willa sleeps soundly against his shoulder as he continues to sing a slowed, softer version of Fleetwood Mac’s Monday Morning. You lean against the door frame, watching them in this quiet moment. You’re not sure when he decided that would be the best lullaby for your infant, but oddly enough, it works. 

You’ve never been able to track down a copy of the band’s self-titled album, and it tugs at your heart to hear it after two decades. Then, Joel makes it to those last few lines of the chorus. 

I don’t mind. I’ll be there if you want me to. No one else that could ever do. 

His voice is so soft, a deep baritone that coats you in warmth everytime you hear it. Accompanied by the slow creaks of the rocker, it tugs you further into the room, closer to him. 

Got to get some peace on my mind. 

You rest your palm on his shoulder. Joel’s eyes flutter open slowly as if he was singing himself to sleep. He offers you an easy smile, free hand wrapping around you, settling against the side of your lower hip. He shifts Willa up on his shoulder more, making room as you slide into his lap, nuzzling into his opposite shoulder. Your legs rest over the arm of the rocker. You are positive you’re cutting off circulation in Joel’s legs, but he never complains. 

You lay a hand over Willa’s back. Joel kisses your forehead as he starts to rock again. The slow creak of the floorboards start again as he sings the chorus over, but this time it feels like he’s singing to you.

I’ll be there if you want me to.

No one else that could ever do.

Got to get some peace on my mind. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

#woman (joel miller) #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[dreamcubed]

it's nice to have a friend | theodore nott x reader

song; it's nice to have a friend [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!wallflower!muggle-born!reader genre; s2l, angst, hurt comfort, fluff word count; 7,8k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, reference to incestual rape, anxiety, nightmares, daddy issues, mommy issues, smoking, abusive mother, abusive grandfather, attachment issues, references to theo's mum's death, references to sex summary; elusive and unknown, you slunk along the walls of hogwarts without ever being noticed. that was, until, a boy who everybody knew spotted you

sorry i'm just so obsessed with the idea of a muggle-born who comes back to hogwarts after being in hiding atm

masterlist

"feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend."

————————————————

Who was Y/N L/N?

Many would frown at that question, saying that they had no idea who that was, even if they had shared a vast number of classes with you throughout the years. Some others would pause, and ponder, as the name rung a bell but they just could not put a face to it. The rare few would answer, "Oh, I know her! Never heard her talk though." And that was all there was to it, really.

You had flown under the radar for many years— which had been enormously useful when you had to go into hiding as a muggle-born— but you weren't exactly a nobody. You were the girl at the back of class, who always had a hood over your head, always had dark circles around your eyes: a mixture of eye bags and your smudged days-old black eyeliner. The girl who disappeared after class for a cigarette out of the window of an abandoned part of the castle. The girl who was almost never at meals— at least not at the typical times.

You were an enigma to anyone who actually knew you, which essentially only included your dorm mates. They had tried to befriend you initially, but you were distant and asocial: they were still friendly with you, but they had learned not to push or pry. Thankfully, none of them had taken it personally.

But being so unknown had been incredibly useful while you were in hiding from Voldemort. It was unlikely he knew you existed— nor would anyone he interrogated about existing muggle-borns and their whereabouts. Thus, you returned to Hogwarts after his defeat for the subsidiary eighth year completely unharmed. You hadn't changed at all in the time, apart from a few more piercings, tattoos and freshly dyed hair.

It felt surreal being able to sit on the window sill of your favourite castle smoke spot again, as no matter how little friends you had at Hogwarts, you felt peaceful there. You had missed it sorely.

Taking a drag from your cigarette, you held the harsh smoke within your lungs and gazed at the cloudy view of Scotland, feeling tranquil. That was, until, you heard footsteps, which made you freeze. You internally prayed that it was neither a professor nor a prefect— but this part of the castle was abandoned, and it wasn't even close to curfew yet, so you didn't see how it could be. Cautiously, you peered around as the footsteps came to a halt, to see a Slytherin boy from your year pausing as he caught sight of you with a cigarette in hand.

Theodore Nott. Everyone knew who he was, including you, and because of that you let relief wash over you: he wouldn't snitch, you were pretty sure that he smoked himself.

He tilted his head at you, clearly with no recognition in his eyes.

"This is my smoke spot," he said simply, hands in his pockets. He had discovered the spot the year prior, when his smoking had become a serious habit, partially due to the depressing atmosphere that the war created.

You stared at him, not saying a word.

"Who are you?"

Releasing a sigh, you turned back to face the view, "Y/N L/N. And I came here long before you, Nott."

You felt the burn of his gaze on your back, and then heard him move closer to you until he sat next to you on the large windowsill. "You know who I am."

"We only had classes together for six years."

He seemed to mull over those words for a few moments. "I've never seen you before."

"Not many have," you shrugged, taking another long toke of your cigarette.

Nott didn't have a response for that, instead pulling out his baccy pouch and beginning to roll. You weren't necessarily happy about the intrusion on your alone time, but you didn't own that windowsill, and you weren't about to waste the rest of your cigarette.

Eventually, once he had lit up his own, he spoke again, "You're a muggle-born."

You quirked an eyebrow, which he probably couldn't see under your hood, but he explained how he knew regardless.

"That's why I never saw you here- at this spot- last year."

Nodding in confirmation, you breathed out smoke, watching as it dissipated into the breeze. The two of you settled into silence as you smoked, which you found to be an immense relief. You didn't like talking, you didn't like people knowing things about you. You weren't shy, like your dorm mates thought, you had just learned throughout your life that saying too much had negative consequences.

Finally, your cigarette burned to the filter, and you put it out next to you before flicking it out the window. You stood up and looked at Nott, who was still smoking, unsure of how to end the peculiar interaction.

"I would say you'll see me around, but no one ever does," you finally said, shoving your hands in your pockets and leaving without waiting for a reply. You hadn't said it in an attention-seeking self-pitying way— you had stated it nonchalantly, as it was a fact.

Nott watched you curiously as you disappeared.

***

The next morning, instead of going to breakfast, you went straight to your smoke spot. You never ate in the mornings, it didn't sit right with your stomach. Only, when you climbed the last step to the abandoned tower, you saw that it was already occupied by the same Slytherin from yesterday. His gaze flicked to you as he heard your approach.

As much as you wanted to just turn around and find another smoke spot, you didn't have enough time before your first lesson, and your nicotine addiction needed satiating. So, reluctantly, you took a seat on the windowsill and began rolling as Nott puffed away next to you.

"Good morning," he said as you glided your tongue along the paper.

You glanced up, muttering a, "Morning," before focusing on your cigarette again.

"Are you in my DADA?" he asked.

You gave a curt nod: it was your first lesson back that day.

He hummed absently, putting his cigarette out, but not moving from where he was sat. You said nothing on the matter, hoping to Merlin that he wasn't waiting for you in order to walk to the lesson together.

You began reaching around in your pockets for your lighter, cursing when you couldn't find it. Just as you were about to pull out your wand as a substitute, Nott was holding a lighter out towards you. You narrowed your eyes at him: you used a lighter out of the habit you had developed while living as a muggle the last year, but why would he use one?

As if sensing your confusion, he supplied your answer, "It's more satisfying."

It was strange to see a pure-blood who wasn't against anything and everything muggle, but you accepted his lighter, a strange sensation washing over you as you did so. It felt like you had just made an oath of some sort, agreed to something you didn't know the terms of— like something had now been sealed between the two of you. Pushing that thought aside, you took your first drag, letting the familiar contentment that nicotine provided take over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, handing the lighter back to him.

There was nothing but silence as you smoked, not another word said even as you finished and went to stand up. He stood up, too, and it was then that your fears were confirmed: he was going to walk with you to the lesson. You supposed it was probably just politeness, but Nott had never struck you as someone who cared about that sort of thing. He, like the other Slytherin boys, was known for his quick temper and rude disposition. But for all you knew he could have changed in the year that you were gone.

You didn't ask— you seldom asked questions, no matter how curious you were. Instead, you allowed him to walk alongside you without complaint, subconsciously adjusting the bag strap on your shoulder.

When you reached the classroom without having exchanged a word, Nott's friends— Riddle and Zabini— approached and greeted him. They didn't notice you, which was expected, so you took the opportunity to slink away to your seat at the back of class. You felt Nott's eyes linger on you as you went, but paid no mind to it, refusing to turn around and look at him.

The professor called attention to the room.

"From what I understand, you all made contact with a boggart back in third year," she began, "Obviously it has been sometime, and in order to ease you back into Defence Against the Dark Arts after learning the Dark Arts, I think it would be a good idea to revisit some basics."

There were murmurs of fear and excitement as she pulled forward a cupboard, much like the one from third year.

"Everyone, form a queue," she said, "Do you remember the charm to counteract a boggart?"

Hermione Granger's hand instantly shot up, and the professor gestured for her to answer.

"Riddikulus."

"Excellent!" she smiled, "Let's begin, shall we?"

You had taken a position in the middle of the queue, and watched as the first people faced their fears and turned them into something ridiculous. Laughter began rippling throughout the classroom, and you even felt your lips curving up ever so slightly. But, when it came to your turn, your face went completely solemn.

You watched as what had been a massive snake from the previous person morphed into a reflection of yourself: only, it wasn't you. You would never wear such a glamorous and expensive dress, and you would never have such a wide smile on your face as flashing cameras surrounded you. Clenching your jaw, you watched as boggart-you waved and posed for the cameras, and raised your wand.

"Riddikulus," you murmured, and the scene before you unfolded with boggart-you slipping on a banana peel and tearing her dress. Laughter boomed from behind you, and you quickly walked away to the back of the classroom as the next student had their go.

It wasn't long before it was Nott's turn, and for some reason you found yourself paying more attention than you had before. Your eyes followed his movements as the boggart took the form of an older man, who had a stern look on his face. He seemed familiar, and it only took you a few moments to realise that you had seen him in the Daily Prophet after the war. It was Tiberius Nott, a death eater who had been sent to Azkaban for life after Voldemort's defeat— also Theodore Nott's father.

Nott remained emotionless as he faced his father, refusing to react as he raised his wand and muttered the spell. Then, Tiberius Nott was suddenly wearing clown attire, quickly becoming the next laughingstock of the class. Theodore Nott left the front of the queue and came around to the back where you were while Riddle faced the boggart.

"You're afraid of being popular," he stated as he stood beside you.

"You're afraid of your father," you replied— not as an insult, just as a fact.

"Fathers are terrifying when they're death eaters."

You shrugged, "I don't know mine."

Nott eyed you curiously, as he didn't know what to make of you. Not that anyone really did. Before he could saying else, Riddle was walking towards the both of you. It was of no surprise that he didn't acknowledge you, likely not even noticing you stood there beside his best friend. That was how you liked it, so you moved your attention away from their conversation and watched as Zabini approached the boggart.

When he finished and joined his friends, you heard Riddle ask, "Wanna go for a fag after this?"

Nott agreed easily, whereas Zabini declined.

"L/N," your eyes widened, and you snapped your head in Nott's direction, "You coming?"

"Coming where?" you knew what they were talking about.

"For a smoke," Nott tilted his head towards the door, "After this lesson."

You watched in horror as Riddle and Zabini's eyes settled on you in confusion and lack of recognition, despite the fact a celebrity version of you had just been displayed to the whole class. But, you supposed, celebrity you didn't resemble your natural state all that much.

"No, thanks."

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if he believed that you would definitely be going for a cigarette after the lesson, just not with the Slytherin boys.

The professor called for everyone to sit down as the last person finished with the boggart, and as the three boys walked away from you, you heard Riddle mutter, "Who the fuck is that?" to his friends. With a sigh, you took your seat and got out some parchment, hoping that the interaction wouldn't be the trigger for everyone in the school knowing who you were.

But, had you ever been lucky?

***

It horrified you how easily Nott could spot you in a crowd, as it wasn't something you were used to— in fact, it was something that you had purposefully avoided. But that was no more, as when you entered the Great Hall for dinner, at the usual time as everyone else for once (your hunger had dictated that), he had made eye contact with you and gestured for you to come sit with him. Immediately, you shook your head: you weren't there to make friends, and you weren't about to sit on the Slytherin table as a muggle-born.

When his friends turned to see who he was beckoning over, they scanned the area you were in without their eyes ever landing on you. Not even Zabini or Riddle, who had seen you the other day, noticed you stood by the entrance. So, why was Nott different?

You took the opportunity to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table with your back to the Slytherins, not wanting to further engage. You had experienced more than enough socialisation for a lifetime in the last week, in your opinion. It was probably at least once every couple of days that you happened to venture to the tower smoke spot at the same time as Nott, and part of you wanted to find a new place. Alas, you had developed an attachment to that tower, and the views were remarkably soothing, so you hadn't.

It was why you didn't bother to move when Nott arrived to see you sat on the window sill that evening, after you had disregarded him at dinner.

"Are you really so scared of making friends?" he asked from behind you.

"Why do you care?" you scoffed.

"You intrigue me."

"Forget about me, Nott. I prefer it that way."

He chuckled, "I think forgetting you is impossible."

You clenched your fist, "Why would you want to associate with a mudblood?"

"I don't give a shit about blood purity, L/N," he said, accidentally dropping his lighter. You heard him curse under his breath in Italian, before looking at you again. "Can I ask why?"

"Why what?" you grumbled, taking a puff from your cigarette.

"Why do you keep to yourself?"

You assessed his intentions cautiously, debating how much information you should give him. Eventually, all you said was, "Saying too much has consequences. If people know too much about you, they use it against you."

"Who's they?"

"Everyone."

He shook his head, "But, it's not, though, is it? Who gave you such a warped perception of reality?"

"It may not be your reality, but it's mine."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Why should I tell you?"

Nott shrugged, "I'm just trying to understand you."

"Well, stop trying."

"I won't," he said simply, "But if you're worried about me having something on you, I'll tell you about me so we're even."

"Please don't."

"My mother died when I was quite young," he began, against your will, "Which left me to my father, who you are familiar with."

"Are you looking for pity?"

"No, I don't want your pity," he scowled, "I told you why I'm telling you. Stop being dense."

You frowned at his words.

"Where my mother was sweet and loving, my father was anything but," he explained, "Physically abusive, literally a death eater, punished me if I ever cried."

You focused your eyes on to your cigarette, ashing it with a tap of your finger.

"I won't let him dictate my life. No matter how much I feel like I'm just as bad as him, I can't let it get in the way of having friends and a decent life."

"You're not your father," you said quietly, unsure as to why you were still entertaining this conversation.

"How would you know?"

"Because you're talking to me."

He hummed softly, "So, there, you know about me. You know something I hardly even talk about with my closest friends. Tell me about you."

You thought about it for a couple minutes, mulling over whether or not you should finally share what has hung over you your entire life. Nott remained silent as you finished your cigarette and fought an internal war within yourself. Eventually, you spoke.

"My grandfather abused me when I was young," you said quietly, "Whenever he visited, whenever I went 'round to his. In the night, he would come into my room and-" you cut yourself off.

Nott said nothing, regarding you cautiously.

"He told me not to tell. Not to say a word," you finally continued, "But I told my mum one day, because I was bleeding..." you gestured down to your crotch.

"She didn't believe you?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You chuckled, "Of course not. I tried to ask her to look, to prove that I was bleeding. She wouldn't. Said her father would never do such a thing."

"Sounds like denial."

"I'd bet my life he did the same to her when she was young, and she's blocked it out. That seeing it on me would have brought back memories that she's so desperately shut out."

He nodded.

"She told my grandfather what I'd accused him of, and my life became hell right until I got the letter inviting me to Hogwarts."

"And that's why you think telling people anything is a bad idea."

With a sigh, you stood up, "All honesty and closeness brought me was pain and suffering."

"You've just been honest with me."

"Rowena knows why," you muttered.

"You can't let him haunt you forever."

"He's still alive," you said simply, pinning your eyes on to his face, "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And, strangely, you believed him.

***

After trusting Nott with your life story, you had found a new smoke spot: it didn't have the views or tranquility of the abandoned tower, but it didn't have anyone else either. You saw him in class, and occasionally at meals, and he would always lock eyes with you and give a nod as greeting. Sometimes you returned it, sometimes you didn't. But before long, a couple months had passed, and you were quite secure in the knowledge that he hadn't told anyone your secret nor was he going to use it against you.

You didn't hesitate in signing up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, not wanting to face your family. When Voldemort's return had been confirmed, both your mother and grandfather— as your apparent two closest relatives— had been obliviated and sent abroad. Once he was defeated, they were found and given back their memories of you, but you hadn't gone to see them. Instead, you had stayed at Hogwarts over the Summer, helping to rebuild what had been destroyed during the battle. And now, you weren't sure if you could ever go back home. You hadn't seen either of them in years, and had become quite content with the lack of danger over the Summer holidays.

It was the first day of the castle being almost empty, and you made your way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Only one of the house tables was laid with food: the Gryffindor one. It would have been a waste to lay any more tables with so few students present.

You noticed that Nott was sat at the table, and when he saw you enter (the only one who saw you, that was), he gestured for you to sit near him. Maybe it was because he wasn't surrounded by his friends this time, or maybe it was because the food was only on one small section of the table, but you sat opposite him.

"How've you been?" he immediately asked.

Shrugging, you put some sandwiches on your plate, "Same as always."

"You stopped coming to the tower."

You sighed, "I like to smoke alone."

He pursed his lips, but changed the subject, "What are you doing on Christmas day?"

An incredulous look swept across your face, "Same as everyone here."

Nott rolled his eyes, "Even the people who are here open gifts with each other."

"I doubt I'll get any gifts."

"That makes two of us," he replied, "Do you want to do something on Christmas day together?"

"Why?" you frowned at him, "Surely Riddle is here."

He shook his head, "He spends Christmas with the Malfoys. They're cousins, y'know." At your raised eyebrow, he added, "On his mum's side."

"Regardless, I told you I'm not interested in friends."

"There is no obligation of friendship here," he raised his hands up in mock surrender, "You can never talk to me again after these holidays."

Taking in a deep breath, you said, "Fine."

He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how soft and non-threatening he looked with such an expression. It was a rare sight on him.

***

Apparently he had taken your agreement to spend Christmas day with him as an agreement to spend the entire holidays together. Nott joined you for studying in the library, and followed you to your new smoke spot, making you sigh and decide at that point you might as well return to your preferred abandoned tower. He didn't talk a lot of the time, just sat in companionship with you, and you found yourself getting irritated. Not at him, but at the fact you were beginning to feel comfortable in his presence, and experience the urge to seek him out on occasion. It was a foreign feeling: one that you had never allowed yourself to come close to.

But you weren't sure if you wanted to stop it any longer.

The bubble you had become wrapped up in shattered one day when Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, found you in the library and informed you that you had visitors. You looked worriedly over at Nott, realising that for the first time in your life, you didn't want to face a situation alone. Because you had a sneaking suspicion of who it might be.

You stood up, and Nott did too. For once, you were grateful that he was following you around without your permission. McGonagall assessed that you were okay with him coming along, and led the both of you to her office, where you found yourself fidgeting with your fingers as the stairs rose up. Nott placed his hand on yours and squeezed gently before pulling away again, an action so soft and without malice that you damn near broke down on the spot.

Moments later, your fears were confirmed: your mother and grandfather stood before you. They had smiles on their faces, but they looked so forced that you felt sick to your stomach. Subconsciously, you shifted closer to Nott, who had straightened his back and let his typical resting bitch face fall upon him— one of arrogance and threat. McGonagall hadn't come in with you, saying that they wanted to speak with you alone. That was when you had said that Nott was going in with you or you weren't going in.

"Y/N, it's been so long, darling," your mother spoke, making bile rise to your mouth. You swallowed quickly, not returning her smile.

"Why didn't you come home for Christmas?" your grandfather asked, taking a step towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back. He paused and frowned, "We haven't seen you in years, but it's finally safe, is it not?"

It's never safe with you. That's what you wanted to scream, but no words came out.

"We've missed you," your mother added, also taking a step forward. You felt so small in front of them, like you were once again that heartbroken six year old who had just discovered that no one was there for her.

"And who's this?" your grandfather asked, surveying Nott cautiously.

"Theodore Nott," the boy replied through gritted teeth.

"Is this your-?"

You cut your mother off by asking, "Why are you here?"

"We've come to take you home," your grandfather said with a grin that was clearly meant to appear jovial, but to you symbolised the devil's incarnate.

"No," you said as firmly as you could, but your tone held a quiver.

The smile dropped from your grandfather's face, and he turned to Nott once more, "May we have a moment alone?"

"Not a chance," the boy instantly replied, crossing his arms. He was a lot taller than your grandfather.

That was when the eyes of your grandfather darkened to their usual state, and your mother's mouth settled into a grim line.

"I don't know what she's told you," the former spoke, "But none of it is true, she was a very imaginative child-"

Nott cut him off with a scoff, "No child who's had a normal childhood imagines such fucked up things."

Your eyes widened in disbelief at Theo's (when had you started thinking of him as Theo?) bluntness.

"My father would never do such a thing," your mother immediately cut in, "These allegations are extreme and unjust."

"I'm not coming home with you," you said, changing the subject.

"I am your mother," she said curtly, "And you are my child."

"I am an adult now."

You watched as she took a deep breath, "Y/N, we are family. Christmas is for family."

"I never want to see either of you again," you said quietly, your voice feeling separate from your body.

"We should have never let her go here," your grandfather said to your mother, "Her delusions have only been fed."

"The only delusions around here are yours," Theo said sternly, "I think it's best that you leave."

"This is none of your business, boy," the old man before you growled, taking strides towards him. In a flash, Theo had pulled out his wand and held it towards him, causing him to back up out of fear.

"I'd watch your mouth, if I were you. Y/N's welfare is every bit my business as it was meant to be yours."

Your relatives said nothing.

"I believe that everything that needed to be said has been said," he continued, "So we will be leaving. If you try to contact her in any way, shape or form again, I won't hesitate to use dark magic on you."

And with that, Theo wrapped his free arm around you and guided you back to the exit. Only once the door behind you was closed and the stairs were lowering did you realise that your entire body was trembling. All you could think to do was murmur a "thank you" towards Theo, who stroked your arm gently.

Once you reached the bottom, you were faced with McGonagall, who had a deathly serious look about her. You broke down, collapsing to the floor as tears and sobs that you had suppressed for years bubbled to the surface and shook your body violently.

"Get them out of here," Theo said to her, crouching down beside you and taking you into his arms. You accepted the embrace, having not felt one in years, and cried into his chest.

The headmistress nodded, scanning over you one last time.

"I'll take care of her," Theo muttered, and that was all the woman needed to head up the stairs with a look of fury that could ignite nations. You didn't know what she had made of the situation, but she had evidently decided that she didn't like your family. "C'mon," he murmured, helping you up and guiding you in a direction you were too bleary-eyed to register.

Your sobs escalated as the two of you walked, and finally you realised that you were heading down to the dungeons. You heard him say the password to the door before you were led into the Slytherin common room of black and green. He didn't stop there, however, instead taking you down further stairs to where the dormitories were.

It wasn't long before you found yourself curled up on his bed, the other beds in the dorm vacant for Christmas. You rocked back and forth, gripping your knees tightly.

Theo shushed you softly, sitting next to you and pulling you into his side.

"It's okay, angel, you're safe now," he whispered, "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You-" you hiccuped, "-promise?"

"I promise. You never have to see them again."

"P- Pinkie promise?" you held up your pinkie to him, and that was when Theo saw in your eyes that a part of you had never grown out of infancy.

He kissed your head, hooking his finger around yours, "Pinkie promise."

***

Numerous nightmares followed after that day— flashbacks and memories that you had blocked out catching up to you and forcing you to re-live it all. The first night, you pushed through, staying awake after waking yourself up and sobbing under your sheets until the sun came up. You didn't tell Theo why you were so exhausted when he questioned it, showing concern for you, as you didn't want to worry him. But, the second night, when you nervously drifted off and your demons returned, you snapped awake only wanting Theo.

With tears streaming down your face, you crawled out of bed and pulled on your Ravenclaw jersey, before creeping down the dormitory stairs and into the common room. There weren't many people that you could have woken up, but you really didn't want anyone seeing you in your current state. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the tower door and left, ignoring the statue's questions of where you were headed.

It was a long trip to the Slytherin dungeons from the Ravenclaw tower, and you almost ran into Filch— luckily, you heard him from around the corner and hurriedly went a different direction. Since you were only wearing socks, your footsteps were soundless.

When you reached the portrait into Slytherin, you paused for a moment as you prayed that the password hadn't changed since he took you there two days prior. "Sonoros," you murmured to the painting, which gave you a disapproving look but reluctantly opened the door for you to enter. You scurried in, relieved to see no one was in the common room, and made your way up to the boys' dormitories. When you landed on the eighth years' floor, you pushed open the door and padded over to Theo's bed.

He was sleeping deeply, his remarkably attractive face almost glowing in the moonlight. The sight of someone sleeping reminded you of your night terrors, and more sobs choked out of you, causing you to lurch forward and shake Theo.

"Hmmph?" he grumbled, forcing his eyes open. When he saw you stood beside his bed with puffy cheeks and shaking limbs, he jolted awake. "Principessa, what happened?"

"I had a-" you hiccuped, "-a nightmare."

His gaze softened, and he lifted up the forest green bedsheets to beckon you in. Obliging, you curled up against his warmth and nuzzled your face into his neck. He didn't ask what you dreamt of, instead asking, "Is this why you didn't sleep last night?"

You nodded against him, and he sighed.

"You should have told me," he mumbled, stroking his hand through your hair. And then he talked you softly into a sweet dreamless sleep wrapped in his embrace, feeling safer than you had ever before felt.

***

At dinner the next day, Theo observed you as you picked at your food, clearly nervous about what that night had in store for you.

"Do you want to stay with me again tonight?" he asked, a question which made your eyes open wide.

"Uh..."

"You can stay with me all holiday, if you'd like."

"I..." your instinctive response was to put up your defences, and distance yourself from proximity with any individual. But, you felt the words of rejection get caught in your throat, and realised that there was a new instinct within you fighting with the old one. The part that was attaching itself to Theo, and firming itself into an iron grip that wouldn't let go now that it had finally found something to grasp on to. As the man in question gazed into your eyes, trying to read your body language, you realised that a suppressed part of you had surfaced— and you weren't sure that it could be locked away ever again. "Yes, please," were the words that finally came out: they were quiet, and felt foreign, but they were all you had to offer.

He gave you a soft smile: not the devilish smirk you had seen him give other girls from a distance, seen him use whenever he won a fight. No, it was genuine, with teeth and all. You were smiling back before you could stop yourself.

Theo eyed you curiously, "I've never seen you smile before."

Your breath hitched, "I'm not sure I've ever smiled before."

***

What commenced was a domestic routine. You kept pyjamas and some clothes in Theo's dorm, and you would brush your teeth together. Then, you would get into his bed, waiting until he beckoned for you to curl up to him. At first, you had been awkward about it, but it quickly became an instantaneous act of muscle memory. Theo felt and smelt like home— home. You had never felt at home before, and you certainly had never expected it to be with a person rather than a place. For the longest time, you had assumed that home would be the place you got for yourself after finishing Hogwarts.

Christmas Day started with a snowstorm in the middle of the night, one that had you waking up at dawn to see the layers of white outside the window. The holiday had never been a good day for you: mainly one of loneliness and a lack of gifts. You weren't materialistic, you didn't care about the presents, but that didn't mean you weren't envious of everyone going home to loving families.

But, that Christmas, you awoke in the warmth of Theo's arms, with a sense of peacefulness fulfilling you. His gentle breathing soothed you as he hugged you from behind, and for a while you remained like that, looking out the window at the snow and relishing in Theo's presence. When had he crept his way through your barriers? When had you started allowing it to happen?

"Buon Natale, principessa," you eventually heard him say from behind you, his deep morning voice sending a shiver up your spine.

"Buon Natale," you mimicked, making him smile into your neck.

"That means Merry Christmas," he murmured.

You chuckled softly, "I figured."

"I got something for you," he said, rolling on to his back, which made you turn over to face him.

"You did?"

He hummed, "It's nothing big."

"I got something for you too," you replied, knowing that there was a vinyl sat in your satchel across the room, which you had put in there on an offhand thought that Theo might like it.

"Should we exchange presents before or after Christmas dinner?"

"Before," you said immediately, "I haven't opened a present in years. I'm not waiting any longer."

"Okay, but can we stay in bed a little longer? È così caldo."

Those terms you could easily agree to— even finding yourself smiling fondly at his Italian. It always slipped out more when he was sleepy.

When had you come to know his habits so well?

***

"Merry Christmas," Theo grinned, handing a large velvet box to you as you sat cross-legged on his bed.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously, carefully popping open the lid only to have your breath taken away. A white gold necklace rested before you, with blue sapphires shining on the pendant that hung from it.

At your speechlessness, Theo explained, "It was my mother's. I thought you should have it."

"I can't take this," you said quickly, "It's a family heirloom."

He shrugged, "Then consider yourself as keeping it safe until I have a daughter."

"Is this your way of ensuring I stick around?" you chuckled.

"Maybe. Is that bad?"

You shook your head, "Thank you. It's so pretty— puts my gift to shame."

"Cara mia, it is not about the cost."

With a sigh, you got up and went over to your satchel, pulling out the vinyl that you had treasured and loved for so many years. "It's not much, but I thought you might like it."

You handed the album to him.

"What is it?"

"It is a vinyl. What muggles play music from."

His lips parted in understanding. "You will have to teach me how to use it."

"I will," you agreed, feeling like what you had actually agreed to was being around forever.

"Thank you," he said, "Would you like to try the necklace on?"

"When I'm dressed. I must do it justice."

Theo chuckled.

***

One thing you had to admit was that Theo's dead eyes sent a shiver up your spine: you felt it as he put the necklace on you, his warm hands a contrast to the cold of the metal as he did up the clasp. You were dressed up for Christmas dinner— not impressively so, but nicer than you normally did. For once, you had foregone your hoodie, and properly cleansed your face of your makeup before doing it again. Maybe the motivation for it had been Theo in the room, but ultimately, you felt quite calm.

"Sei bella," he murmured, and you knew enough Italian to know what bella meant.

You suppressed a smile, admiring his attire of dress trousers and a shirt. He lacked a tie, and the top buttons were undone— topped with his rolled up sleeves, he looked divine.

"Let's hope the dinner isn't too boring," he chuckled, "But, either way, we can have a smoke after."

"Sounds like heaven," you said, turning around to look up at his gorgeous face. A few weeks ago, you would never have let yourself find someone attractive: in your head that was as good as an attachment to someone. Yet, here you were, knowing that your soul had grasped on to Theo's and would never let go. You still had your hesitancies, but they were being overrode by your intense craving for affection.

"Should we go down?" you asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

He hummed, "Just one more thing."

"What?"

His thumb and pointer finger delicately touched your chin, and your blood pressure skyrocketed when he leant down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "I couldn't resist."

You were rendered speechless— was that what a kiss was supposed to feel like? Magical, willing, heart-fluttering?

"Shall we, amore mio?"

"We shall," you smiled, accepting his extended hand.

***

The dinner was as boring as Theo had predicted, with the expected speech from McGonagall and then everyone falling into separate conversations. However, the delicious food was the saving grace, and you ate more than your stomach could handle, as well as drank a few glasses of red wine which had been provided for the professors and the adult students.

But, the highlight of your day was when you and Theo smoked in the usual tower spot, remaining in a soothing silence as you watched the snow fall.

"Can we build a snowman?" you asked, putting out your butt on the stone wall.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, "Why?"

"I've never built one," you muttered, wanting to rekindle the childhood joy that you had never truly experienced.

"Well, then, I hope you've got thick gloves."

***

"He's so ugly," you commented, staring at the snowman before you. He had a carrot on his face, courtesy of the kitchen, and a variety of stones creating a disturbingly fake happy expression. You turned around to where Theo had been stood next to you, only to see that he was gone. "Theo?" you called out, spinning around to find him when you felt a thud of something against your back.

When you looked in the direction of the throw, you saw the man you had been looking for laughing and gathering up snow into a ball.

"You son of a bitch," you cursed, leaning down and accumulating some snow of your own. Immediately you let fire, hitting him right in the chest.

"Oh, it's on!" he shouted back— the trigger for ten minutes running around and hurtling snow at each other until you tripped. Only, you found yourself laughing as you hit the ground, flopping into a starfish position as Theo dashed over to you. "Are you okay, principessa?"

You sat up and tugged on his leg, making him topple over too. "I'm perfectly okay."

"Clearly," he groaned, propping himself up on one arm to gaze at you.

"I think I won this one."

Theo rolled his eyes, "If my lips weren't so numb, I'd kiss you right now."

Your lips parted in shock, making him laugh.

"And I won that one," he said, "Can we go inside before we freeze, please?"

And when you and Theo were cuddled up in front of the fire with hot cups of tea, you knew that your isolated life was no more, and you had almost fully let go of your reservations about forming attachments.

***

Bliss can only last so long, of course, and the horde of students returned early January with their trunks and chatter in tow. You reluctantly returned to your Ravenclaw dormitory, knowing sleep would be difficult after growing accustomed to the comfort of Theo's arms.

But you had no choice.

Still, as you walked down the hallways alone for the first time in two weeks, your hood over your head and eyes cast down, you felt lonely. You had never felt lonely before— well, maybe in part. But your fear of knowing someone and being close had overrode the loneliness: your phobia of being hurt again had made you view loneliness as a comfort. It didn't feel like a comfort any longer, not now that you had tasted Theodore Nott and all that came with him. Not now that he had shown you good intentions and security.

"Y/N!" you heard a call from behind you.

You spun around, feeling a smile tug on your lips as you recognised the voice. That was another thing Theo had brought you: smiles that came naturally, like a flower blooming because it had been nurtured and nourished to perfection, not in spite of its environment.

"There you are, principessa," he murmured, pulling you into his embrace, "I haven't seen you since last night."

"It's not that long," you shrugged, but you had missed him too.

"Too long," he said, taking your hand in his, "I could hardly sleep without you. Kept worrying about your nightmares."

Your face dropped, and that told Theo everything he needed to know.

"You had one, didn't you?"

With a dismissive nod, you turned and began walking down the corridor with him, "It was nothing. I'm fine."

"You promise you'd tell me if you weren't?"

"I'm always fine when I'm with you," you said quietly, "I wasn't fine last night, or this morning, but now you're here— I'm fine."

His eyes softened at your words, and he squeezed your hand. "Let's get some lunch."

***

When you entered the Great Hall, you felt Theo tugging you over to the Slytherin table where his friends were gathered. You swallowed your anxiety and shifted closer to him, deciding that as long as you had Theo as protection, these people couldn't hurt you.

They didn't notice either of you until you sat down.

"Theo! Where have you been?" Mattheo Riddle asked, his eyes then flicking to you, "Oh, it's you again... L/N, right?"

You nodded the affirmative.

"Who?" the girl next to him, Pansy Parkinson, asked.

"The girl Theo's been courting."

"I didn't know Theo was courting anyone," Lorenzo Berkshire frowned.

"Are you in the year below?" Pansy turned to you.

"No. I'm in your year."

Her eyes widened, "Salazar, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," you said. And, really, it was. You were used to it.

"Are you official, then?" Mattheo questioned, changing the subject effectively.

"Yes," Theo replied, before you could even process what Mattheo had just asked.

"Never thought I'd see the day where you settled down," Blaise Zabini chuckled.

"Just hadn't met the right girl yet."

Your heart flipped.

***

"Sorry about that earlier," Theo said to you later at the smoke spot, "I figured it was the only way to not make the situation awkward."

"Sorry about what?"

"Saying we're official."

"Oh."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, "Unless you're not sorry?"

You pursed your lips, "Maybe I'm not."

He grinned, "Then allow me to ask you officially, cara mia, will you be my girlfriend?"

"I want to," you took a deep breath, "But, I just— certain things are going to take some time for me. I— I will need easing into things like, uh..."

"Sex?" he finished for you.

Shamefully, you bobbed your head.

"Of course, we will take all the time you need," he smiled, moving closer to you to place a hand on your cheek, "I'm not in it for the sex. I'm in it because ti amo."

"I think I love you too."

"I'm here for you always, amore mio. I promise."

"Pinkie promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 04/05/2024 —> 22/05/2024 published; 26/05/2024 edited; —/—/——

#harry potter #hp oneshot #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #fluff #angst #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theo nott one shot #slytherin boys #muggle born reader #ravenclaw reader #strangers to lovers #hurt comfort

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Sixteen

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: smut, oral sex (f receiving), Tom just being very naughty enjoy ✨

— WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

For perhaps the first time ever in his life, Tom could say he preferred the day to night. At Wool’s, nighttime was when everything went quiet — when all the other children, who during the day were brutish noisy little pests, and the matrons, who were worse, were all asleep — and Tom could read and think and go to places in his mind. At Hogwarts, nighttime was when none of the other students came to him all wanting something — either help with homework or advice from the Head Boy — and he could explore the castle at his pace, learn its secrets, and slip into the Restricted Section undetected. If he was lucky and Peeves wasn’t around, at least.

But now it was during the day that the under-shop was quiet, while Ambrogio was asleep, and the only sound that resonated through those walls was the snapping of the cap on Tom’s enchanted fountain pen while he was fidgeting.

His path to victory was clear: wait for Ambrogio to disenchant the books from the protective spells that kept them bound there, steal the Delomelanicon, and kill him. He would have to move fast before anyone else discovered it was missing, or prepare for the Baron to send people after him.

A small problem presented itself: Tom had never killed a vampire before. He knew how to, of course. It was first-year D.A.D.A. level. He knew Avada Kedavra wouldn’t work because they were already dead. The best solutions seemed to be a bath of sunlight or decapitation… Both of which came with their own challenges.

The phone rang, drowning his thoughts.

“Yes?” answered Tom with a sigh.

“Tom? Are you alone?”

“Yes,” he said, suddenly intrigued. “Why?”

“Are you busy?”

“… Not really.”

“Could you come up, then, please?”

Tom smirked. He knew what this was about.

“I’m lonely,” she complained. Her tone was sweet, beguiling, one he had responded to quite well on past occasions. ‘Lonely’ wasn’t really what she was.

“I should get back to work,” said Tom in his most teasing tone. “And you should too.”

“Alriiight,” she pouted.

The clicking as she hung the phone up lingered in his ears.

II

“Very well,” he sighed as he climbed out of the trapdoor. “What is it?”

“Tom!” she beamed, clapping her hands gladly. “You’re here!” She was perched up on a ladder with her elbow curled around a step.

“I see you took my advice anyway and made yourself busy,” he smirked, walking slowly toward her. “No, don’t get down. I like you up there.”

She paused between steps and looked at him over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye. It was an enticing view, and he stopped right underneath it.

“You’re quite perfect as you are,” he whispered, gentling a hand around her ankle and starting to squeeze. “So, why did you call me? You were lonely, you said?”

“Why didn’t you come when I asked?” she asked back haughtily.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I had to beg.”

“Maybe I like that,” said Tom, leaning forward to drag a little lick across the inside of her ankle.

She hummed pleasantly and closed her eyes. “You can ask for it, then, if you like it so much,” she murmured.

He looked up at her with a thin, dangerous smile, and moved his hands up slowly from her ankles to her calves, then to her knees, thumbs tickling the backs of them and causing her to shiver. His fingers caught her skirt between them and inclined it upwards.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a wavering voice.

“Hang on,” he said.

Her hands gripped the rungs so tightly the wood groaned.

Tom brought one hand lower in the same slow caress to hold her ankle, stationed roughly at the level of his chest, while the other ventured higher, up the silky path of her thigh until, with the tips of his fingers, he felt the edge of her stocking and the thin strap of her garter. Beyond that point was only soft, warm flesh.

“Tom,” she murmured in a heated warning, but even with her unsteady footing she couldn’t help but arch her back. “Don’t make me enjoy this…”

“Why not?” he whispered, his lips ghosting the smooth bone of her ankle. “Nothing bad will happen to you as long as you sit still for me.”

“Would you catch me if I fell?” she asked, looking down at him with sultry eyes.

But Tom met her gaze with a cold, impassive stare and answered plainly. “No.”

She laughed at him. “Villain.”

But she didn’t laugh for long because his caress was reaching higher up her naked skin, thumb brushing the silky expanse of her moving up and up and up until...

“You’re quite a little damp here,” he purred. “Already?”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me…”

“Tell me,” he continued, “is it just my presence, or my touch? Or perhaps you like the way I talk to you…”

“You are so smug.”

Tom grinned. He couldn’t deny it.

His palm held her thigh, supporting her, while his thumb massaged the edge of her plush folds, pressing on one playfully to ease her panties aside. The lace was already soaked and he could feel her heat seep into his cold hands. He hooked his thumb into the lace and pulled. Fainly from above, he heard her gasp.

Tom moved his head to rest against her knee and gazed upwards. A moan bubbled in his throat at the sight.

“Yes, I can see now just how lonely you were,” he grinned.

“Villain,” she hissed again at him in secret pleasure.

“Your villain.”

She whined frustratedly and glanced at him below with slitted eyes, her face half-hidden by her hair. Strands of it stuck to her face, clinging to the sweat and little tears that beaded in the corners of her eyes. When Tom tore himself away to look at her it seemed for a moment that a veil of dried blood or a lace of spider silk was cast across her face. He was utterly enchanted. He kissed the back of her knee and rubbed his cheek against it to bring his senses back. Then, in a slow, smooth and scraping motion all across her leg and moving upward, his thin hand, pale but for the ink stains on his fingers, slid all the way up to cup her core. He could feel her thighs tense around it and tremble as his fingers brushed her slit. He smiled contentedly at her shaky sigh as he moved his thumb to that pulsing little hole. He waited there, feeling how her subtle muscles worked while with the backs of his fingers, he gently pet her folds.

When he let go of her ankle, she immediately whined and held on tighter to the ladder but she was no closer to falling. In spite of what he’d said, Tom wouldn’t allow it.

“Shhh… I only want to lift your skirt a little. May I?”

“A-alright, but be careful…”

“Have I ever hurt you?”

“Not yet.”

“The cheek you have,” he tutted. “I shall have to slap it out of you, I see.”

“Tom! Not here!”

He couldn’t help but laugh. He loved seeing her frightened.

With more light falling on her skin as he raised her skirt he could see again those little details that had made his mouth water, but there was a charm in seeing her half-shadowed. It made him want to move even closer and complement what he could not see with touch, and taste, and scent, and take her in with all his senses. He placed his lips on her thigh to feel the muscles twitch beneath as she struggled to keep herself upright and still. He kept his eyes fixed on her core, the little of it he could see between his fingers, and watched how it pulsed and swelled and blushed a sultry shade and trembled as it closed around his thumb.

His feet shifted on the ground as his cock began to harden with nothing to soothe it. He could feel it growing warm against his thigh, the sensitive head just barely slipping out from underneath the skin in search of something quite out of its reach. It was the kind of pain he didn’t often get to feel and it made him slightly dizzy, but it only gave him cause to hang on more tightly to her.

Her body tried to coax him in, kissing and half-swallowing the little that he offered. Tom grinned and let her take it, his teeth sharp against the skin of her thighs while his thumb just rested there, then sunk into her greedy hole. She moved above him as her back arched once again, twisting in the grip of her pleasure at the slightest hint of touch inside. He felt her seeping down his thumb slick and sweet and warm.

“Do you feel good?” he asked with his lips still pressed in one long kiss against her upper thigh.

She mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch, probably not a word at all.

“What was that?” he asked again.

“Y-you’re cruel,” she breathed. “Give me more…”

Tom chuckled and kissed her thigh again, then with gentle and persistent pressure drove his thumb inside, curling it against her softest flesh while his fingers started playing with her clit. He trapped it between his index and middle finger and began to rub it back and forth.

“Ah! Aaaah! Tom!”

“Is that what you wanted?” he grinned, watching with enraptured eyes how she tightened around him.

Her nub was blushing fiercely, its tip erect and swollen where it was forced out of its protective hood by the slight press of his fingers. He nipped her thigh and thrust in harder, all the way up to the knuckle, and curled his thumb inside her on the outward thrust. The wooden ladder groaned again. His hand twisted slightly, playing with her flesh while above she screamed for him.

“Tom! D-don’t…”

“Hmm? What was that, my sweet?”

Her moans came out all muffled as if she was biting into something out of agony and pleasure. Between her legs, Tom was quite happy. His lips fluttered in light kisses at her thigh while he stuffed her with that little bit of him and abused her tender clit.

He felt her begin to unravel, her cries growing desperate and pouty and her hips twisting as much as they could. Her shoes shifted on the ladder steps beside him but she couldn’t really move. Tom grinned proudly, his heart growing twice over in his chest at hearing her so needy, so desperate for him. He shoved his thumb the whole way through and kept her plugged up like that while he brushed his knuckles on her clit, flicking over it without stopping as if punishing the tiny thing. She moaned and stilled as if her body was in shock, but her core clenched tight to suckle on his finger. She left a mess over his hand once she was done.

Tom chuckled and leaned a bit higher, bracing himself with one foot on the bottom rung to reach all that he wanted.

“Aaah! Too much! Tom, ‘s too m-much…”

He opened his mouth and let his warm breath tease her, then, moving his hand aside, added his tongue to his service of her. He lapped at the edge of her folds and slowly moved onto the centre. One thick swipe cleaned her pudgy nub and from there he dragged the mess lower, to the hot entrance that still encircled his thumb.

“Tom,” she sighed dreamily, her voice with no strength anymore. “Tom, I already… I…”

“Mmmm I know,” he whispered against her. “You can do it again, can’t you? For me?”

She whined petulantly but stayed where she was and let him have her.

Slowly, he dragged his thumb out, his lips there feeling the way her skin pulled as it clung, and once she was empty he was quick to put his tongue to work once again. She tasted so sweet, and salty from sweat, all of it just because of him… Tom lapped at her slit from clit to softening hole and dragged his tongue across her heavily until the tip could just slip inside. She whimpered above him and her body jerked, not quite a tremble, but he held on to her tightly enough. Wet noises bloomed all around them muffled by the cover of her skirt and her thighs around his face.

“Tom,” she whimpered, “Tom, wh-what if someone comes…”

“I hope someone will,” he grinned, the warm breath of his chuckle tickling her even more.

“I’mmm… I’m serious!”

He puckered his lips up and kissed her, sucking her sweetness into his mouth, then started to lap at her again. She was warm on his tongue, her centre still twitching in a greedy and hungry yearning for more. Underneath, his trousers were killing him, pressing tight against his cock that leaked and dribbled uselessly. He couldn’t even afford to rub himself lest he let her fall. Well, that was something to take care of later… He let his tongue slip into her hole again to tease it, sate it, then it slid out to tend to her clit.

“Tom!” she moaned a warning, her hips grinding mindlessly against his mouth. “Tom, I can’t…”

He held her hip with one hand, and her leg with the other, fixed his lips on her and started licking messily, noisily, rubbing her whole centre as fresh wetness flowed straight onto his tongue. He kissed her throbbing hole as if it were her lovely mouth. As if he could drink her life from it.

“Tooom!” she cried, and he felt her core flexing again in a sudden orgasm, filling his mouth with fresh honey made just for him.

He barely had time to react when he felt her body start to shake from her legs up to her tummy in a pleasure that spread like a wave. Her moans had faded to low, heaving breaths, and Tom could almost feel her strength leave her. His arms reached out to grip her waist and control her unexpected descent as she tumbled, sapless, into his arms. He found his footing quickly and held her up. Her foot tangled only on the last step.

“Ooof… There are you,” he chuckled, holding her around the waist. “Alright now?”

He let her lean back against his chest while she found her footing but as he looked down at her sweaty, flushed face, he realised with a proud grin that her eyes were closed in pleasure.

“Darling?”

“I’m here,” she said, her voice weak and shaky. “I’m… mmmm…”

“Yes, you certainly are,” he purred, nuzzling the back of her neck.

She giggled, still catching her breath, and her head lolled heavily back on his shoulder. She looked like the most sated cat lifted from a sea of milk. Infected by the sight, Tom found himself smiling too. His gaze slid to her lips and he leaned forward, kissing the edge of her mouth.

“You were drooling,” he whispered teasingly.

She frowned and seemed ready to protest, but licked the corners of her lips just in case. “If I were, it’s your fault.”

He was getting ready to say something witty again, his grip growing tighter around her, but then, like a death knell, the bell rang.

“Buongiorno?” someone called out. It was Sister Silvia, one of her most beloved regulars.

“Buh— Buongiorno!” she said in a panic, rushing out of Tom’s arms and frantically straightening her skirt. “I’m… here! Coming right now!”

“Oh, I thought you already did,” he whispered in her ear.

She slapped his hands from around her hips and tugged at her skirt a little more.

“Evil boy,” she mumbled as she pulled herself out of his arms, but she was smiling.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #Tom Riddle smut #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

[cinematicnomad]

cinematicnomad's steddie fic recs

i've been reading a lot of stranger things steddie fics over the past 2 months so i've decided it's time for me to make one of my requisite fic reclists, both for myself, and for anyone else interested. here's my usual reminder that i prefer lengthy fics, and that i am also a sucker for canon divergent fics (which basically all of these are bc eddie is alive post s4 obviously unless it's a time loop fic—if i tag a fic as "canon divergent eddie lives", assume this means the fic is compliant through the end of s4 except for eddie's death) and happy endings. all these fics are complete, though it's possible that if the fic is part of a series the series may not be complete. i will try to always add appropriate tags!

T = teen M = mature Ex = explicit NR = not rated

bracing for impact by writersagainstwritersblock (1/1 | 9k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; wayne POV; steve has bad parents; outsider POV

wayne watches as eddie falls hopelessly in love, with of all people, goddamn steve harrington.

it's not a big deal by aidaronan (1/1 | 11k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; mutual pining; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the upside down forever (his books, his dnd stuff, his guitar.) everything that wasn't on eddie when steve carried him into the ER, gone. so naturally steve starts giving him things. handing eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.

you oughta know by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (1/1 | 12k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; future fic; angst w/ a happy ending

days stretch out, long and slow. steve tries to ignore the only thing he’s sure of: eddie ran. he ran from him, ran from all of them. or: steve's having a rough couple of years, thanks for asking. compliant fic: i'm brave, but i'm chicken shit (1/1 | 13k+ | M) eddie POV; eddie centric; 1990s; recreational drug use

introduced me to my mind by alchemystique (2/2 | 16k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; mutual pining; getting together; happy ending

"eddie," wayne says, and eddie fights the urge to scream, or laugh, or cry. "i'm not running," eddie tells him, even though that is a fucking lie. "you should call him more," wayne says, and eddie rubs the meat of his palm into his eyeballs until he sees stars. doesn’t think about what 'call him more' means in context—do they talk about him? series: sweet leaf (4/4 | 16k+ | T) outsider POVs; rockstar!eddie; period typical homophobia

steve harrington's guide to making it work by eggbertsheggbert (8/8 | 23k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; steve is kicked out; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington has never been good at asking for help. especially not since he started being seen as the protector of the group. so, when his parents kick him out after discovering his sexuality, he figures he can get extra shifts, save up, and get a place before anyone realizes anything is wrong. join steve as he takes on the weight of the world. he's got it figured out, he's definitely NOT struggling, and—above all else—he can make this work.

it's alright if you love me by alivingfire (7/7 | 31k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POV; character study; 5+1; steve-centric; hurt/comfort

"oh, haven't you heard? steve harrington doesn't cry." in which steve harrington breaks up, breaks a few hearts (including his own), breaks free, and finally gets to break down. or: 5 times steve didn't cry, and 1 time he did.

off the beaten path by pukner (6/6 | 34k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; alternating POV; queer awakenings; cliffhanger ending (must read sequels)*

"i'm saying this," says steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone i love is, uh, gay. and i love them, but like, platonically. and also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in retrospect." there is a long, baffled pause. "what," says jonathan, "steve, are you—are you coming out to me?" steve frowns, "oh, yeah, i guess i am. cool." or, post season 3, steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to robin and jonathan byers of all people, and figures himself out. also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. and his bandana. too bad eddie munson hasn't had a similar revelation. he's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over steve harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: steve figures out he's bi before eddie figures out that he's gay. eddie still manages to fall first. series: *off-script (2/2 | 67k+ | Ex) eddie POV; internalized homophobia; mutual pining

a tattoo is worth a thousand words by writersagainstwritersblock (18/18 | 40k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; eddie POV; babysitter steve harrington; getting together

"ambidextrous, princess, it’s what makes me so good with my hands." eddie wiggled his fingers. "you mean for guitar?" steve asked, completely missing the innuendo, and also nearly knocking eddie flat at the thought that steve harrington knew he played guitar. "you stalking me or something?" eddie asked. steve frowned. "uh, no, but your band played in the middle school talent show, it's pretty hard to forget a thirteen year old screaming death metal before his voice dropped." eddie almost laughed at that. almost. "you saying i'm unforgettable, princess?" "if that’s how you want to take it, munson." eddie realized this was turning towards something far more dangerous than taunting a boy known for getting into fights, like flirting with a very, very straight boy known for getting into fights. OR after the events of season three steve shows up on eddie's doorstep asking for a tattoo... and then keeps showing up much to the dismay of eddie's traitorous heart. sequel: visible ink (12/12 | 57k+ | M) outsider POVs; firefighter!steve; tattoo artist!eddie; found family

the one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting. by badpancake (12/12 | 41k+ | T) canon compliant; time loop; steve POV; temporary character death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

it’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. he’s dove into the water hundreds of times. screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard master of puppets in the distance and held back tears. felt max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. there are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: el doesn’t arrive in time. eddie dies. max is put in a coma. steve fails. they lose. "steve, how many loops have you been through?" his head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. "i lost count.” AKA: the one where steve harrington is stuck in a time loop, and eddie munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck volume 2, these bitches are in love.

steve the reluctant by rachtay13 (7/7 | 46k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; oblivious steve; steve plays dnd

robin raised her brows.  "you know what, harrington?" she nodded her head. "yeah, you know what? i dare you to make a friend. i dare you." read for steve in denial, excessive d&d gameplay, robin as a mermaid, and eddie's glinting rings. as one reader said "the most frustratingly dense version of steve i have ever read and i am HERE for it."

you're so fucked up and i love it by genericfanatic (18/18 | 54k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; accidental relationship; hurt/comfort

eddie munson hated steve harrington. he'd apparently saved his life, dragged him out of hell and got him to a hospital while nancy rushed behind him working on alibis and half truths to prove he couldn’t have murdered chrissy. and here he was, doomed to live for the foreseeable future, in debt forever to steve fucking harrington. but eddie really hated how normal steve fucking was.

where do we go from here? (quietly fading away) by allandmore (9/9 | 60k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; non-graphic violence

"what's scarier than saving the world? figuring out what to do afterwards. i get it," eddie turns on his side, one shoulder on the wall, and grips the front of steve's shirt. His face is so close steve can feel the warmth of his breath. "but we've got time now. right, steve? we bought us all time. time to figure all our shit out. isn’t that what matters?" OR steve harrington struggles to find purpose after the upside down. (but maybe purpose doesn't have to be big. maybe it's helping dustin navigate sophomore year. maybe it's reminding robin to send in college admission letters. maybe it's eddie munson. maybe).

star of the masquerade by glorious_spoon (6/6 | 64k+ | M) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. when his gaze lands on eddie, he blanches visibly. "oh, shit," he mutters. "come on, no. come on. not again." "harrington?" eddie asks slowly. he does not love the way that steve is staring at him right now. he really doesn’t. steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. "you good, dude?"

one size fits all by entanglednow (10/10 | 65k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; fake/pretend relationship; misunderstandings; slow burn

steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions.

renegades (leave a light on) by queerofthedagger (13/13 | 66k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; eddie POV; road trip; slow burn; strangers to lovers

eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. even less does he expect steve harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. least of all, though, does he expect harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout. the winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to san francisco—just until things back home blow over, munson—eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would harrington care to help him? why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? and, maybe most importantly, why is the former king so ready to leave hawkins behind on a whim? or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. a story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one.

falling without caution (people watching) by super_skam310 (10/10 | 66k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; slow burn; eventual happy ending

steve harrington is a man that demands your attention; whether your give it willingly or not is inconsequential. eddie's camp tended to be in the latter category. OR eddie's borderline obsessive watching of steve spanning from steve's freshman year to season 4, culminating in the unfortunate realization that the king had been dethroned the moment nail bat hit monster flesh and that maybe steve harrington was lovable all along.

in the margins by foxy_mulder (4/4 | 70k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; suicidal thoughts; hurt/comfort

steve is having a hard time adjusting to the new normal, after everything that went down. he doesn't want to bother his friends with his problems, though, when they've got so much weight on their shoulders already. steve stumbles on an alternate version of hawkins, where none of it ever happened. everyone’s alive, his headaches are gone, his friends actually want to hang out with him, and he’s…happy. (the party has to fight another monster. but this one doesn't prey on people's fears. it preys on their deepest desires.)

skull rock era by chattrekisses (11/11 | 71k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; steve POV; slow burn; internalized homophobia; fix-it

steve harrington never planned for eddie munson. steve was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart, have 2.5 children, and take over the family business. he was supposed to live a blissful life on a nondescript cul-de-sac, complete with a white picket fence and a closet full of tasteful polo shirts. he was supposed to make a graceful transition between being the golden boy and being the american dream. mediocrity was what destiny had designed for steve. reality had other plans. (or, steve and eddie, against all odds, fall in love.)

roll for seduction by spikeisthebigbad (37/37 | 74k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; steve plays dnd; fix-it

when steve reluctantly agreed to play dungeons and dragons with the hellfire club he expected to hate every second. he did not expect to spend his friday nights flirting with eddie munson. what if eddie and steve were dating during season 4? starts after season 3, and eventually ventures into season 4. not canon compliant.

in over my head by staymagical (16/16 | 75k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; temporary amnesia

one moment, steve is entering his room, ready for bed, and the next he's in forest hills staring at a very confused very concerned eddie and the run-down remains of the old munson trailer. three hours later. thus begins a secret shared between friends, steve leaning on eddie as they try and understand and navigate this new terrifying post-concussion symptom of steve's. with vecna dead and the gates closed, it can only be steve's own scrambled brain giving up on reality. it's a race against the unknown, trying to find answers and search for solutions before it happens again and steve isn't sure how long he can keep pretending he is alright when he is anything but.

leave the light on sometimes all night by anniebibananie (7/7 | 78k+ | M) au—no upside down; steve POV; hurt/comfort; slow burn; eventual smut

june 1986 steve is lonely. he’s always been lonely, honestly. an empty house, absent parents, friends that didn’t really know him. frankly, he probably doesn’t really know himself, either. it used to be easier to ignore—between sports and parties and searching for the next girl to hang around with. then nancy wheeler told him he was bullshit. in the wreckage of the storm, he realized she probably hadn’t been that off base to call his life bullshit. [life in hawkins, indiana is boring, ordinary, no supernatural entities. steve still changes. luckily, he still makes some new friends, too. certain people are simply meant to be in the same story.]

the lathe by palmviolet (13/13 | 82k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending; implied self-harm

"this time, do it right. this time eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. this time, steve will do it right." — or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable. sequel: disaster / lucky (1/1 | 7k+ | M) coda; eddie POV; implied/referenced self-harm; trauma recovery

(something happens and i'm) head over heels by gibbouslunation (11/11 | 94k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie made a strangled disbelieving noise, expression flickering. "you are not apologizing to me right now, for like, feeling a normal way about stuff. i can’t believe you." steve pushed a shaking hand through his hair. his heart rate no longer in his ears meant he felt he could at least think a little more clearly. "maybe it was the heat. doesn’t always have to be something messed up, right?" eddie gave him a placating nod. "sure, heat exhaustion is a helluva thing." it had been happening a lot recently. the…forgetting. zonking out. whatever. he was pretty sure he was just extra exhausted, it had been a few weeks since everything but it might have just been the adrenaline or something finally wearing off. sometimes it was like he just forgot someone was speaking, or couldn’t remember for a moment what they’d been talking about. like blinking out of a fog maybe. it does not get better, in fact, it actually continues to get worse.

burned on the pyre by oklahoma (13/13 | 105k+ | Ex) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

"i’m gonna save your life, eddie munson." - caught in a time loop created by eleven where he is forced to relive the same day over and over, steve has to come up with a plan to kill vecna entirely while also making sure eddie and max don’t lose their lives in the process.

the beat has just begun by forgetthemoon (12/12 | 106k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; period-typical homophobia; fix it; slow burn

vecna dies. so does eddie. the world doesn't split open. in the aftermath, steve goes home to an empty house. well. almost empty. steve sighs, hanging his head. one more thing. then he can go to bed. the dirty towel can wait until later. he tosses it towards the bathtub without looking and turns to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. when he looks in the mirror, eddie's staring back at him.

lonely is the night by intrajanelle (23/23 | 109k+ | T) canon divergent post s2; canon rewrite; eddie POV; hurt steve; angst w/ a happy ending

harrington had fallen, splayed in front of his preppy little beemer, like the jock equivalent of a fallen fucking angel. eddie, not having thought this through, watched harrington’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and said, "well, crap." or: post-season 2, eddie and steve get to know one another.

the end is here (and we do it a hundred times over) by placebythering (13/13 | 125k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jolts awake, staring up into the dull beige of the camper’s ceiling. there’s a distinct brown stain, likely from a leak. the cushion of the back seat is hard against his back, and if he strains he could hear yelling and laughing from the outside. he wonders if he’s finally lost his fucking mind. —or, steve relives the day of the end over and over again.

caught in the middle, helpless again by margosfairyeye (14/14 | 131k+ | Ex) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; angst w/ a happy ending; canon-typical violence

fuck, eddie has been here before. the deja vu was bad enough but this is like, double, this is like deja deja vu or deja vu vu or something, this is unprecedented shit here. and eddie knows what comes next, knows like the roiling ache in his stomach that they’re going to go in, go though the portal and into the upside fucking down and didn’t they already do this? -- -- eddie loops through the time from lover's lake to his death, over and over again.

take the money and run by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (22/22 |143k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; road trip; getting together; future fic

"rules. like, there’ll be no eating in my car. you're not driving my car. no heavy metal," steve keeps listing, "you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m—" "i'll try to control myself," eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. fucking girls in steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. steve continues, completely ignoring eddie, "you’ll wipe your feet. you're not dragging dirt all over my car. no hitchhikers. no cutesy road games. no smoking in the car. i'm not paying for all the gas." "ass, gas or grass, got it," eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. he is not taking this seriously. or: road trip!

sleight of hand by smithereen (19/19 | 143k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; alternating POV; internalized homophobia; slow burn

steve needs a weed dealer. he gets a bit more than that. (this is an AU set a couple months after the snow ball in season 2.)

if your heart surrenders by asbealthgn (39/39 | 163k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; slow burn; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

“that one’s on the house, okay?” eddie says, and steve opens his eyes to look back down at him. on his face is the slightest hint of concern, and something else steve can’t place. he’s still holding his hand. "thank you," steve says. he’s not sure exactly which thing he’s thanking eddie for, the weed or the hand in his or the lack of judgment at his fucked up head. he just knows that he’s grateful. eddie gives him a smile, a gentle curve of those pretty lips. "anytime, harrington."

tuesday's gone with the wind by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (9/9 | 184k+ | Ex) alternate universe – no upside down; eddie POV; rock band; drug use; plane crash

corroded coffin's leased plane went down on june 13th, 1995 in the woods of louisiana. ten people on board died. eddie munson survived. before he survived, he really lived. sequels: wildflowers...and all the rest (15/15 | 151k+ | Ex) gareth POV; original female character; one shots; growing old; slice of life

gossip by jcmadgirl (11/11 | 213k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; pre-canon; sexual assault; angst w/ a happy ending

steve's whole life story, told through multiple snapshots of the events that made him into the person that he is today. or, a rewriting of stranger things from steve's POV.

i never did believe in miracles (but i've a feeling it's time to try) by cuoredimuschio (26/26 | 215k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; slow burn; mutual pining; getting together

eddie is beginning to think that, somewhere in the helter-skelter of surviving the upside down, being swarmed by possibly rabid but definitely rancid demobats, and charbroiling vecna’s slimy ass, he accidentally tripped through the wrong gate and landed in an alternate dimension. well, a different alternate dimension than the one he was already in. because steve harrington is flirting with him.

vignettes of lost connections by hardlyhalcyon (halcyonfrost) (50/50 | 229k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington and eddie munson had met long before dustin henderson dragged steve down to reefer rick's cabin. hawkins wasn't a huge town, and there was only the one high school, but the two were never friends. didn't even like each other. in all their darkest moments however, they somehow found company together. or the one where Steve has depression, eddie becomes his safe space, and when eddie encounters battles he can't fight, steve reminds eddie of his own strength. a pre-/peri-/post-s4 fic with steddie before s4 events, continuing through and after.

as the world falls down by daeneryske (36/36 | 245k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

after saving eddie from the upside down, steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear eddie's name. what steve doesn't expect is how much he likes hanging out with eddie as they get to know each other. under the looming shadow of the mind flayer threatening to destroy hawkins, steve and eddie realize they're each grappling with their own darkness, from steve's father's impossible expectations to eddie's feelings of worthlessness. their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. steve must decide if he's ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. eddie must learn to embrace what steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he's worth saving.

nothing else matters by bigskyandthecoldgun (31/31 | 279k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical attitudes; everybody lives

"you ask a lot of questions about me," steve tells him. "because you're interesting," munson says, quiet and honest. "you're a lot different than what i've heard." steve hums, eyes closed. "yeah," he says, eyes fluttering open when munson takes the joint from him again, "you are, too." or: steve ditches the prom to get high.

the man that i could be by ohstars (26/26 | 325k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

"steve harrington isn't straight. it's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at starcourt with robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of steve. since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys." -- after coming to terms that he may be queer, steve harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only eddie munson. just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for eddie in their own little bubble, steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. and when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his eddie is the same eddie playing D&D with the kids. the same eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. how will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team? series: the men we've become (4/4 | 45k+ | M) future fics; alternating POVs; domestic living

since you've gone (i've been lost without a trace) by steddieeddie (7/7 | 300k+ | M) canon divergent s4; multiple POV; comatose steve; grief; angst w/ a happy ending

may 31st 1986, two weeks until graduation. robin, eddie, and nancy are all set to walk across the stage, eddie being given a free pass after the whole ‘almost framed for murder’ thing. the three have been trying to be excited about their graduation, but it feels almost mundane to be excited when steve wouldn’t be there. they would be sat out on a football field in the blistering heat while waiting for their names to be called, with dustin and max in the crowd, cheering them on in steve's place. there would be fake smiles plastered to all their faces, no matter how realistic they tried to make them. none of them have genuinely smiled since steve got vecna'd. sixty-five days. steve had been in a coma for sixty-five days. the doctors keep telling the party that it doesn't look good, that steve's injures had been severe, and that they didn't know if, when, he would wake up. but they refused to lose hope. he'll wake up. it's just a matter of time. OR five times steve harrington didn't wake up, and one time he did.

the most dangerous thing (is to love you) by brokebeatle (21/21 | 304k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; shared trauma; slow burn; period typical homophobia  

"i know you care about what those little twerps think of you, and i can assure you they think way too highly of you," eddie says with a wink, and steve gives a half-hearted smirk for just a moment. "but look…i know i can’t ask you to stop worrying about those kids, so how about this? you worry about them, and you let me—actually let me—worry about you." steve pushes his hair back, and yet again, gravity instantly pulls it back down, since he’s looking at his feet. "…i don’t need anyone to worry about me." "too fucking bad. someone’s gotta do it, and it’s gonna be me." "why?" steve replies with a raspy laugh, shaking his head slowly. "why? why." eddie crosses his arms tightly across his chest, knocking his foot into steve’s again with a bit more strength. "because we’re friends, dipshit." —in which eddie's got a reason he's been planning on leaving hawkins since long before the world almost ended. the only thing keeping him in town at this point? his promise to be friends with steve harrington. and eddie doesn't break promises.

#stranger things #steddie #fic rec #steddie fic rec #reclist by cinematicnomad #reclist #steve harrington #eddie munson #i will probably continue to add to this post as time goes on #one of the benefits of a read more #but for now #these are all the fics i've read and loved

[mysticstarlightduck]

Late Writeblr Intro!

Hello, friends!

I figured it was about time I made an actual blog intro of my own since I forgot to make one when I started this blog last year. Better late than never, lmao!

Pls, reblog, like, and/or reply to help boost the blog! 💕

Let's get started:

Personal Stuff! 💜🩶🖤

My name is Anna/Anya but you can call me Mystic, Ducky, or just Anya on this blog! My personal nickname is Ani and I adore it (:

I am an Asexual woman (my pronouns are she/her!) and I'm also personally an atheist who puts my faith in the spirits of Mother Nature, though I respect all other religions equally!

I'm Gen Z and Latina (Brazilian). I was raised bilingual (Brazilian Portuguese + English) and I love learning languages - currently, I'm working on learning French and Spanish! Career-wise I am studying in college to become a character designer and hopefully animator, as I want to pursue a career as an artist and writer! I also wish to have my WIPs published in the near future (:

Some fun facts about me!

My favorite shows are Critical Role, Game of Thrones, Castlevania, The Legend of Vox Machina (animated series), Star Wars, Voltron, The Dragon Prince, Avatar the Last Airbender, Legend of Korra, and DC Comics content, as well as many more lmao. I love watching movies and series!

My favorite Vox Machina characters are Vax'ildan and Percy (:

I am a younger sister 💖

My hair is short and curly (pixie style, similar to the haircut Rapunzel has at the end of the Tangled movie!)

I adore listening to music, especially songs that can inspire me to write my WIPs! Playlists are a huge part of my writing process and something I really enjoy making.

I'm currently rereading Shadow and Bone (+ Six of Crows) and I am always looking for more good dark fantasy/historical fantasy books to read so book recs are always welcome! I also am a huge fan of the Percy Jackson series and Trials of Apollo (by Rick Riordan), though I'm usually more of a gritty/dark fantasy fan (like Game of Thrones)!

I have three dogs and two cats!😺🐶

I know how to play the piano, though I haven't done that in a while because things have been chaotic for me, but I'd like to start playing regularly again in my winter vacation.

I have worn glasses since I was 5 years old and have terrible eyesight without them (and some days with them, lol, so bear with me).

My friends and I are doing a DnD campaign every Sunday, where I play as a half-elf rogue named Aeryn (he/him). I'm adoring this adventure so far, it's so fun!!!

I love to bake and am rather good at it, but am a painfully average cook lmao (some specific recipes I make are actually rlly good, but it depends a lot on my mood and the 'alignment of the stars' lol)

I want to learn how to knit/crochet! 🧶

I'm a theater nerd and love musicals (:

About my Writing!🏹⌛

I write fictional works mostly in the genre of fantasy (high fantasy/epic fantasy/dark fantasy/historical fantasy/urban fantasy, etc. You name it!) and science fiction (space opera/cyberpunk/superhero, etc).

My works usually revolve around themes such as epic quests, secrets, adventure, rebels fighting an oppressive system, sibling bonds, acceptance/respect, outcasts, and much, much more! I love fluff and whump equally, and though my stories tend to focus on serious topics (or at least darker/heavier themes) within a fantasy/sci-fi setting, I like to have a good bit of humor, lighthearted fun, and comedy to my stories to lighten up the mood!

My main WIPs:

Song of Thorns

🌹WIP Intro: (here)🌹

Genre: dark fantasy, medieval fantasy, adventure/mystery, dark fairytale, eldritch horror (mild)

Style: Standalone (possible Trilogy)

Tags: #wip song of thorns #song of thorns

Short Summary/About: "A peasant girl moves with her siblings from her struggling seaside village to the kingdom's glittering floating capital, but after her older brother is kidnapped, she ends up discovering the dark, bloody secrets hiding behind the long-lasting royal family of the town and must team up with a young dhampir thief, the exiled prince, and a lonely druid girl to save the dying kingdom from this web of lies".

Supernova Initiative

🎇WIP Intro: to be made... 🎇

Genre: space opera, adventure, exploration, laboratory whump, heist, thriller/mystery

Style: Episodic book series with an overarching plot (each chapter/group of chapters equivalent to an episode in a TV series)

Tags: #wip supernova initiative #supernova initiative

Short Summary/About: "A young intergalactic thief and his crew are captured after a heist gone wrong and forced to accept a strange deal - complete a mission for the Junction, retrieve important missing files, and get their freedom back. All the while that is happening, Jack Tithus, the protagonist, finds himself trapped as a test subject to an immoral, and elusive, man known as the Director."

Enchanted Illusions

💀 WIP Intro: (here)💀

Genre: Victorian fantasy, adventure, mystery, gothic fantasy, dark fantasy, crime-solving

Style: Possibly a trilogy

Tags: #wip enchanted illusions, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "On a magical setting inspired by Victorian times, a group of strangers and outcasts must work together to thwart a powerful secret organization and stop a murder spree that could lead to another civil war between myths and humans."

Of Starlight and Beasts

✨⚔️WIP Intro: (here)⚔️✨

Genre: medieval fantasy, epic fantasy, adventure/quest, dark fairytale, sword and sorcery, prophecies

Style: Book Series

Tags: #wip of starlight and beasts, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "A young knight in training and an amnesiac star mage embark on a quest to prevent an ancient prophecy from coming to fruition as a vengeful sorceress queen's army marches relentlessly onto their land with the intent to destroy all their kingdom has built."

The Last Wrath

🔥⚔️WIP Intro: to be made...⚔️🔥

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, political intrigue, espionage, adventure/quest, medieval fantasy, whump

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip the last wrath, #the last wrath

Short Summary/About: "In a land torn by an ancient war between two sides of a continent, a mageborn girl finds herself trapped amid the bloodshed after her past comes back to haunt her and her family. Now, stopping the war may be the only chance she still has to survive."

Tales of Wilted Flowers

🥀WIP Intro: to be made...🪻

Genre: RPG-inspired fantasy, high fantasy, adventure, fairytale, epic quest, heist story, whump, light fantasy

Style: Trilogy (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip tales of wilted flowers #tales of wilted flowers

Short Summary/About - "A group of youths rejected and betrayed by society in many different ways come together due to unexpected circumstances and must rely on each other to prevent the kingdom's corrupt Head Sorcerer and the King from reviving an ancient evil."

Realms of Loss

🍂WIP Intro: (here)🍂

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, medieval fantasy, high fantasy, ancient times fantasy, Viking-inspired, prophecies & curses

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip realms of loss #realms of loss

Short Summary/About - "In a continent destroyed by the fall of the Old Gods, and trapped in an endless toil for survival, a cocky young prince discovers his role in an ancient prophecy after his brother, the King, is murdered and assassins come for him too. Running away into the forsaken land beyond the walls of his kingdom, he'll have to learn to be a leader and save his people as a dead, murderous God awakens."

Mutant Inquiries/Open Secret Files

🤖 WIP Intro: to be made..🤖

Genre: superhero, cyberpunk, futuristic, dystopian, science fiction, urban fantasy

Style: Episodic Series, still in development

Tags: #wip mutant inquiries #wip open secret files #mutant inquiries #open secret files

Short Summary/About: "In a dystopian, high-tech future, a group of mutant teenagers become vigilantes and crime fighters to rebel against the oppressive government regime and survive their crime-ridden city."

I have a few other smaller-scale WIPs I occasionally, less frequently work on, such as Lies Untold and Jade Ruins, but those up above are the main ones that I wish to publish. I've also got a big, secret extra WIP I'm working on for fun and will share it with you guys soon!

#writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr intro #blog intro #wip intro #writeblr #writing #writerblr #my wips #character writing #writing community #writers of tumblr

[laurfilijames]

Easy Access

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse. Creampie. Semi-public sex.

Summary: Unable to keep your hands off of each other since Will's return home from tour, going to a party at Benny's proves to be no exception, especially when he discovers you're not wearing any panties under your sundress.

A/N: It is so rare that Will is smiling and happy so I've made it my mission to give him every ounce of joy he deserves and packed it all into one delicious fic for you, all while indulging in the slutty "bend me over and fuck me in a sundress" fun which is still very much IN 😤 I am also celebrating my 1 year Charlie-versary of when I posted my first fic for one of his characters, which just so happened to be Will Miller, Breathe.

---

Three days had passed since Will returned home, meaning it had been three days since either of you stepped foot out of the house.

Keeping your hands off of each other since the moment they made contact again was proving impossible, your attempt at making up for lost time a challenge both of you had eagerly accepted.

Even now as you sat in his truck on the way to Benny’s, Will had his hand planted firmly on your bare leg, your short sundress giving some relief from the sweltering summer weather, but his palm felt like it was on fire the longer it lingered there, spreading a heat through your whole body that rivaled the sun beaming in through the open window.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

“Do we have to go?” you joked, tilting your head as you squirmed in your seat, seeing his smile grow into a chuckle that you had missed more than you ever thought possible.

“Yeah, we do. Unfortunately we can’t stay locked up in the house all week.”

His eyebrows rose on his forehead when he looked at you, and when he tucked his lip between his teeth after he stopped speaking, you wondered how much effort it would take to convince him otherwise.

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze as he looked forward at the road again when the light turned green.

“I know you’re looking forward to seeing your brother.”

Will nodded in response, using his free hand to turn his truck left onto the next street. “Yeah, I am.”

Benny had deployed nearly two months before Will had, Pope along with him, and with Frankie, Tom and Will all on their own tours, this was one of the longest periods they had all gone without seeing each other.

Frankie had arranged it all, gathering everyone together for a dinner at Benny’s as a reunion, the need to celebrate each of them returning home safe a priority and perfect excuse to smoke a giant slab of meat and toss back some beers.

“We won’t stay too late,” Will assured, stealing a glance over at you again, his eyes traveling up your legs to your chest that bounced along with the movement of his truck over each bump in the road.

“We can stay as long as you want, Will. I can’t keep you all to myself forever.”

A sort of growl mixed in with his laugh as he shook his head and tried his best to focus on driving, and you felt your pulse quicken as you watched his hammer in his thick neck.

“See, sweetheart, that’s where you’ve got it wrong.”

He pulled onto Benny’s street, slowing down as he approached his brother’s house and found a spot not far down from it, parking his truck behind Catfish’s.

Unfastening his seatbelt, he leaned over the console to get closer to you, his expression somewhat serious even though the hint of a smile played on his gorgeous lips.

“All I want is to hide away with you forever,” he admitted, making your heart feel as if it would burst in your chest.

Before you had the opportunity to say anything in response, Will reached over to close the space between you, his left hand cupping the side of your face to keep you in place as his mouth crashed into yours, a surprised gasp that turned into a soft moan tumbling off your tongue as his danced with it.

It was dizzying, the passion in that kiss and every one that had come before it since his return unlike anything you had experienced before, the crave you felt to taste him on your lips again and again an addiction you could never be rehabilitated from.

You heard him chuckle quietly after he had pulled away, his thumb rubbing your cheek while you kept your eyes closed, almost feeling afraid that if you opened them, he wouldn’t be there. Everything you did in the last three days felt otherworldly, too perfect to be real, and even now you let your fingers dig into the tattooed skin on his forearm just as you had so many times already in order to believe he was actually there with you.

A sigh of relief blew past your lips when you finally did open your eyes, finding him staring back at you with a warmth that made his eyes seem to glow in the late afternoon sun, the smile he flashed at you grounding you just as much as it disarmed you.

“I wish we never had to leave that bed,” he purred, moving to pull the handle to open his door to step out.

“Who said we can’t carry on what we do in bed anywhere else?” you replied, cheekily, grinning in reaction to seeing his eyebrows raise high on his forehead in amusement as he walked around the front of his truck and over to the passenger side, giving you a somewhat warning look as he opened your door for you.

“You’re playing with fire, here. Better watch yourself.”

You chewed on the side of your lip as you hopped out of your seat, feeling mischievous in knowing he had yet to discover your dirty little secret, excitement mixing with arousal as you wondered how he would react when he noticed.

Closing your door, you met him at the open door of the back seat, standing to the side as he reached in and grabbed a dish off the floor, leaving another that contained one of the other appetizers you had prepared for you to carry in as he lifted the small cooler full of beers out of the bed of the truck.

You made a point of leaning in as far as you could to reach it, bending at your waist as much as you could even though it wasn’t necessary due to the height of the truck, but knowing this angle would allow for him to see your bare ass.

“Are you not wearing any panties?” he asked, surprise and amusement in his voice, the expression on his face matching when you stood upright and faced him.

You grinned and shrugged, watching his sly smile reach his eyes that were now tinged with a darkness that you knew was lust.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he huffed, slamming the door shut before turning to step onto the sidewalk. “Jesus Christ,” he added under his breath, clearly wondering how he was going to manage now.

With satisfaction giving you a spring in your step, you followed, walking up the driveway beside him, hearing music coming from the backyard along with the familiar laughs of your friends.

Will paused, quickly meeting your lips in a forceful kiss, the deep breath he took when he parted telling you how hard he was working at keeping his composure before reaching the gate that would lead you into the party.

He flicked the latch on the gate, but grabbed the top of it with his large hand before letting it swing open, blocking the entrance so you were stopped beside him. The look he gave you was stern, adding to the flurry of excitement already pulsing wildly through you, and his voice held a tone that made you hold your breath and your skin tingle, feeling the light, humid breeze tickle the sweat on your legs as your less-than-innocent sundress moved with it.

“If you’re gonna play games like this, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences,” he warned, the corner of his mouth pulling upward ever so slightly as he backed himself against the door to open it, still holding eye contact with you as he let you pass by him.

You didn’t know how long you had been there for, the only thing you knew was that your need for Will was increasing with each passing second and that he seemed to enjoy torturing you, the game you had set up to have him begging for you effectively reversed. It was difficult to keep a steady conversation with anyone - impossible, even - your focus drawn across the yard to wherever Will was standing, seeming to latch eyes with him each time and feeling his locked on you when you forced yourself to look away.

The way he was making you feel almost had you regretting your decision not to wear panties and make it known to him, but as you watched him lick his lips and rub the back of his neck as he half-listened to something his brother and Pope were laughing about, you knew your choices would be rewarded despite him acting like punishment was a more suitable response, and if you were honest, that was exactly what you were hoping for.

You knew you were pressing your luck, sitting down on an old lawn chair, your gaze fixed on Will to make sure he was watching as you blatantly crossed your legs, knowing he could see your naked sex before the overlap of your bare thighs concealed you again.

Despite the somewhat smug grin on your face, your heart was racing uncontrollably, the nerves coursing through you growing at a furious rate as you took in the unreadable expression on Will’s face. You couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused, his arms folded across his chest, his stance sturdy and confident, chewing on a toothpick that he rolled from side to side across his lips with his tongue, and it made you wonder if he couldn’t decide how to feel either.

He shook his head and you noticed his chest rise and fall with a huff before looking away, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth so he could take a sip of his beer that he reached for off the picnic table.

You bit your lower lip, trying to mask your satisfied smirk, and took a deep breath of your own as you attempted to refocus on the conversation happening around you, but you still couldn’t seem to peel your eyes away from Will.

He was clearly trying to do the same, but also failing, and when he stole a look over at you again, you took the opportunity to recross your legs to give him another glimpse of what was his for the taking if he dared.

The crunch of the aluminum can being crushed in his powerful hand seemed to echo in your ears, his eyes steely as he maintained eye contact with you while his other hand subtly adjusted his cock in his shorts that you knew was getting hard.

Will licked his lips before looking back to Benny where he patted his brother firmly on the shoulder, saying something to him as he held up his empty beer can, taking a step in the direction of the garage.

Catching your gaze again, he tilted his head, nodding for you to follow him before he disappeared around the wall of the building.

With your mouth now feeling dry, you downed what was left of your drink and stood, politely excusing yourself from the others who sat near you even though you hadn’t contributed to the conversation in too long a time thanks to your occupied thoughts, your hand instinctively smoothing the back of your dress to make sure you were covered as you walked through the yard.

Looking over your shoulder to ensure no one was following, you rounded the corner only to walk straight into Will who lunged out and grabbed you, laughing as you yelped, your heart stopping from the scare.

“Jesus, Will!”

He continued to chuckle, his smile crooked as he still held the toothpick between his lips, his hands groping at your waist and then lower to your bare ass. You couldn’t help but join his laughter, seeing him smile and be this playful replacing the brief fright with a swell in your heart.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I missed hearing your laugh,” you admitted, resting your hands on his warm chest as he beamed at you.

“Is that so?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, smiling as he dipped in and kissed you, your arms wrapping around his neck while his secured around your back and pulled you against him, able to feel his cock pressing against your body.

“Come here,” he said through a growl, his voice rough and lusty while his eyes continued to hold a playfulness in them, leading you in through the open door and giving the toothpick a flick that landed somewhere on the oil-stained concrete floor.

Walking far enough in so he was sure no one would see you unless they actually came inside the garage, Will wasted no time in planting you against Benny’s workbench, his kisses coming on so forceful and desperate it was hard to keep up.

Both of you were smiling between kisses, completely elated and lost in the thrill of it all, and as much as you had expected Will to follow through on making you pay for your little stunt, it still caught you off-guard when you felt his fingers trail up between your legs to stroke your wet folds.

“Here? Now?” you asked, half squirming and half leaning into his touch, a breathy moan passing your lips as you let yourself succumb to the feel of his index finger pushing inside you.

He peered down at you, his eyes shifting with amusement as you relaxed into him and started to roll your hips. “It's what you wanted, isn't it?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle your sounds of pleasure that he was already coaxing out of you.

“You're lucky I can't get enough of you,” he growled, adding a second finger and hooking them to massage your g-spot. “If you're gonna dress and act like a slut then you're gonna be treated like one.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening against the thin fabric of your sundress, and your eyes closed as he fingered you as perfectly as always. You felt his face draw close to yours, his breath hot on your dewy cheek, his beard grazing your reactive skin as he dipped in beside your ear.

“No one's gonna know…”

You grinned when his lips attached to your neck, the thought of denying this man anything he wanted humourous, knowing that after being apart for as long as you had, nothing could stop you.

It all progressed quickly; your kisses intensifying with each one, the sound of your name coming off his lips as he told you he loved you making you delirious, your hands grasping at each other desperately.

The smell of his shampoo was awoken by your fingertips scratching through his hair, the press of his lips on yours and the way his tongue claimed your mouth while his beard chafed at your chin and cheeks all a reminder that there would never be a day you would be sated of him.

You let your hands slip down his neck and over his broad shoulders, finding a resting place on his thick chest that radiated a warmth that made his cotton t-shirt cling even more to it, and you could feel his heart thrum against your palm before his laugh rumbled through to it.

“The things you make me do, sweetheart,” he chuckled, allowing his hands to leave your body for a moment while he unfastened the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled out his cock.

You returned his smile, yours feeling lazy on your lips from the haziness of lust, and you reached for his cock, smoothing your hand up and down his length until his smile was wiped away and he clutched your jaw with his hand, squeezing it as he kissed you again.

He peppered along down to your neck, his fervor increasing as your reaction to it encouraged him more, the hand that had been gripping your chin falling to your chest where he pawed at you roughly while the other rucked up the skirt of your dress.

“I still don't think you realize how much I missed you, and I’m not even close to being done yet,” he growled, driving his fingers in your soaked cunt again.

You leaned back against the workbench, your hands gripping the edge of it for stability as your head tipped back, allowing Will more access to attack your neck and chest with his mouth, feeling the grittiness of dirt and grime left from Benny’s projects under your fingertips.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, riding his hand without shame.

“Turn around, I wanna see that ass,” he demanded, though his tone was light with mischief.

He removed his fingers from you and aided in spinning you around, kicking your feet apart with his as you hinged forward and resecured your hold on the countertop, his hand trailing from the small of your back where he had pressed with intention to down between your cheeks while lifting your dress back up over the round of your ass.

You moaned, arching back into him, feeling him rub his cock across your cheeks as he continued to finger you from behind, his other hand reaching around to grab your breasts and tug at your neckline.

He gave you a playful spank, but it didn’t come without a sting, making you jolt forward slightly which caused the bench to shake against the wall, his voice gruff but light mannered when he spoke.

“I know you think this dress looks all pretty and innocent on you, but only I know what a whore you actually are in it.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, his words and the way he was hitting the spot that would make you fall apart each time he moved in and out of you causing your arms to break their support, knocking over a few empty beer bottles and cans that sat amidst the rusty tools.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, but not ceasing his pace. “We gotta be quick but not that quick.”

Continuing to prime you to take his size, you heard him chuckle again, his tone completely satisfied and humoured as if he was basking in the fact that he now had the upper hand in the situation.

“How are you gonna manage with no panties after you’re filled up and dripping with my load, huh?”

You sighed out, glancing over your shoulder at him as he proceeded to grin smugly at you, realizing you hadn’t thought this stunt entirely through.

“We’ll call it an oversight.”

Your response only made Will laugh more, the sound of it making your heart sing in seeing him this happy even if it was partially at your expense.

“You could always put it somewhere else?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of swallowing his hot cum while looking up at his pleasured face from your knees that would end up dirty and scuffed.

He shook his head as he lined himself up to your entrance, pushing into your soppy cunt as his voice changed to be slightly gruff. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails raked across the gritty, wood surface as Will bottomed out in you, stretching you completely to fit around his fat cock, the first of his hard thrusts making the workbench slam against the wall.

You cursed under your breath, having him pumping in and out of you a reminder of how hard he had already fucked you that morning, the mix of pleasure and pain making your whines grow to soft cries.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Will asked, the concern in his voice genuine even though he didn’t relent on his pace.

You shook your head ‘no’, pressing your hips back to meet him blow for blow, feeling a tingle scurry down your back at the thrill of it all.

“You know I like it,” you replied, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite the heat when you heard him chuckle in a gratified way.

“That’s my girl,” he grunted, continuing to pound you with ardor.

It was getting difficult to keep quiet, but with how loud the bench was hitting the wall you suspected what you and Will were off doing was no longer discreet to the rest of the party, so you allowed yourself to stop worrying and focus on how good it felt.

Although Will’s heavy panting and rough moans were equally as loud as you were, he gave the occasional warning to quiet down, and each time one of your wails out-did any other noises you were making together, his laugh would ring out, clearly finding the prospect of getting caught hilarious.

“Shit!” Will called out, still through a chuckle, releasing the grip of one of his hands from your hips to grab at a mason jar filled with various bolts, screws and washers as it tumbled down from an overhead shelf. It danced off the tips of his fingers and hit the floor with a loud smash, sending its contents scattering around your feet.

“Will!” you half cried, half scolded, and as you moved slightly to try to see the damage done, your arm knocked a couple of cans off the table to add to the mess on the ground.

“Jesus…” Will laughed, picking up his tempo a bit to quicken getting the job done, the risk growing with each passing second.

The rate at which he was fucking you had you a disheveled mess, the straps of your dress having slipped down your shoulders, and without their security, each hammering thrust continued to shake your body enough until your tits easily fell out.

Nearing your climax, you lost control of the volume of your cries, and in your haze of pleasure, you could barely hear Will telling you to pipe down.

Right when you were about to fall into bliss, Will pulled out of you and roughly turned you around to face him, his hand gripping the side of your face somewhat forcefully before he crashed his mouth against yours to quiet you. His other hand grabbed the flesh of your thigh and lifted it up to lock around his waist, driving back inside you with his cock that was warm and wet from you.

You moaned into his mouth, only to have him force his tongue deeper inside while he resumed fucking you with all he had, moving the hand that had been holding your face down to your exposed breasts.

Like he had given up caring if you were heard, he broke your kiss to look at you, his blue eyes soaking you up as he drank in the heavenly sight before him; your bare boobs bouncing to his movements, the sweat glistening on your chest and neck that made your hair stick to it, your swollen, moist lips that parted as you fought for breath between moans, and then his gaze fell lower where he watched your drenched cunt taking his dick.

“Fuck you are so hot!” he said through a grin, his tone hinting that he couldn’t believe you were his to treat like this.

He dipped back down to your lips, kissing you once before letting his open mouth hang against yours, stealing another glance at where your bodies connected and crude, squelching sounds came from.

“I missed this fucking pussy so much,” he muttered, his lips teasing yours as he did, and unable to take it anymore, you reached your hand around his neck and pulled him against you, kissing him fiercely while driving your hips into his to grind on him roughly.

Broken kisses continued their attempt at suffocating your sounds as you found a rolling rhythm that would see you to your end, your hands desperately tearing at Will’s thick, sweaty flesh through his damp t-shirt.

A violent orgasm ripped through you, forcing Will to press his lips harder against yours to drown out your cries, burying himself deeper inside your walls that choked his throbbing cock, your leg wrapping around his plump, half-bare ass to help ensure he didn't leave you as you rode out your high.

Even if he wanted to hold back, he wouldn't have been able to, your climax inducing his own, his thrusts slamming and stuttering as he pumped you full with aggressive spurts of cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he smiled against your lips, his forehead resting on yours as you both panted for breath, drunk on each other and completely spent.

You giggled, the thrill of your naughty behaviour adding to the post-fuck euphoria, feeling the rumble of Will’s laugh resonate through your body as he remained inside you.

He pulled away from you enough to peer down at you, his eyes heavy and lusty but crinkling at the sides as he smiled lazily at you, his cheeks blushed and covered in drops of sweat, his blond hair darkened from his efforts.

He continued to smile at you as he fixed the straps of your dress, his fingers gently and lovingly grazing your shoulders as he did, looking at you so adoringly that you could never deny how much he had missed you while he was away.

“I really like this dress,” he spoke softly, his fingers trailing down to trace the material that hugged the curve of your breasts, bringing his face close to yours as he pinched your nipple and tugged it, making you moan and arch toward him.

He kissed the space between your ear and neck, and growled as if he was already fighting to restrain himself again. “But I’m gonna rip it off of you at some point and ruin you completely.”

Will’s teeth nipped along your jawline, and before he pressed his lips on yours, looked at you with a dark, promising look that had your body set aflame all over again.

You hummed against his lips, feeling him slip out of you while wondering how much longer you would manage to stay at the party, knowing it would only be a matter of time before you were desperate for him again, and judging by the force of his kiss and the way his hands clawed at your sundress, he was feeling the same.

“You go inside and get cleaned up,” he said, nodding to the door that led into Benny’s house. “I’ll sort all this out.”

You glanced at the mess on the ground he was referring to, broken glass and various types of hardware littered all around you, and being the gentleman he always was, he took your hand and assisted you safely over to the door.

Will tucked himself back in his shorts and promptly located a broom and dustpan, beginning to sweep up when he heard the shuffling of his brother’s footsteps walking into the garage.

Benny stopped, causing Will to look over at him, laughing when he saw the annoyed look on his face.

“Really?” was all Benny managed to get out, his arms outstretched while Will just shrugged and continued cleaning up.

“You two are fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Benny hissed, pushing Will hard on the shoulder as he passed to add more empties to the disrupted collection on the workbench.

Will only laughed harder, dumping what he had accumulated in the dustpan into the garbage as Benny grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him, knocking his bottle against his and then twisting off the cap to take a sip.

“It’s good to see you happy, man,” he said, clapping his hand on Will’s back before heading out of the garage and back to the party.

---

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Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #will 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam #will miller smut #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #charlie hunnam characters #william miller #william 'Ironhead' miller

[diocletianscabbagefarm]

Wait, no, this Kalina thing is driving me slightly insane I feel like I need to write it out rather than do shower-thought-analysis.

- Kalina was pretty adversarial with Kristen at the start over what their plans should be, but that seems pretty understandable considering A) they were literally fighting to the death the year before when she was the NMK’s familiar B) her goddess existence - and by extension her own - was super precarious (or “instantly killable” as she put it) with only two followers, with the cleric kinda dropping the ball on their responsibility to spread Cassandra’s worship. Cassandra was noticeably anxious about straight-up dying, and Kalina was forceful on her behalf in advancing the argument since Cassandra was afraid and hesitant to be pushy about it C) Her character trait is being a petty bitch like that and honestly good for her; maybe she was even trying to be Cassandra’s favorite over Kristen but that’s just inside politics.

- Kalina advocated going to the mall, which is where the attacks took place and that can be construed as suspicious or purposeful, as the Bad Kids concluded later in the season. However it could also just be a story excuse for Brennan to get them at the mall to use the battlemap, and there are some alleviating factors; before the attack Kalina went to Adaine at the strudel bar to ask her if she could get Kristen to come (if she orchestrated the attack it would’ve been better to keep a high level cleric absent), and as Cassandra was initially affected by the shatterstars she again told her to get Kristen there asap. During the attack Brennan described multiple times through insight checks that Kalina was horrified, stressed and panicked.

- She threw herself in the path of a shatterstar headed for Cassandra (bloodily piercing through her paws to halt it), and even then first rushed to heimlich the shrimp out of Cassandra’s throat before the rage effect took hold (her eyes go red) and she says she liked Cassandra more when she was the NMK and slits her throat. Before being affected by the shatterstar she also quickly shouts out Ragh’s name as a hint to the Bad Kids to help them solve the mystery.

- Aelwyn said Kalina had come to her to modify the spy’s tongue curse so that it’d work on herself (being a non-humanoid) at some point near the end of freshman year (so before the Bad Kids destroyed her in Sophomore), so working together with Porter seems to have been an old plot from back when she was the NMK’s familiar rather than a recent thing. Aelwyn also mentioned she seemed rather pissed about needing it, and of course she mentioned Ragh’s name already to try and lead the Bad Kids down a trail of questions that’d end up pointing them to Porter (how did Ragh become able to see Kalina -> barbarian healing)

- In Baron’s Game she manages to push through the rage to repeat Ragh’s name again, and then when Cassandra offers her a moment of clarity she clarifies the hint (“it’s the only name I can say”) and < SNAPS! HER OWN! NECK! < in order to not be a threat to the Bad Kids anymore, like how hardcore do you want your sacrifice to help the heroes be because even if you can be brought back, that one is pretty hardcore.

- The Bad Kids discover some medicine in Porter’s desk to help with cat allergies. Could be recent, but could also be old from when they worked together in the past. This seems to be what leads the Bad Kids to conclude Kalina is still evil, but I can also construe it as Brennan trying to offer confirmation they correctly identified the link between Kalina and Porter.

Like, with all this I find it kinda hard to square Kalina was being evil and working against Cassandra; her actions at the start of the season speak more of protectiveness and anxiety, and after being shatterstarred she used every opportunity available to help the Bad Kids crack the mystery, why would the final reveal be she was actually still a villain - why actively sabotage herself, without any payoff? I can understand her to be bad if all she did was trick Cassandra into going to the mall in the astral, and that was the end of her role in the season, but she did so, so much afterwards to help the Bad Kids. To me this speaks at most of her having been a participant in the past, prior to being reconstituted, unless I am missing something major.

The logical followthrough for a Senior Year season - if it were to happen - would be to run with the thread that accusing her of being evil was a hasty judgement, and that because Ankarna was all to happy to smite her wife’s cat she never liked (even at the end Cassandra meekly protested, but was overruled by everybody), Kalina knew to make herself scarce. Great story potential, with the reason for the Kalina-Buddy teamup being that though wrongfully accused she was now on the run and grabbed the nearest ally to hand. Being able to be summoned by Bakarath could indicate Kalina was forcibly disowned from Cassandra as her familiar, and if I were a familiar unceremoniously dumped like that because someone else said you’re bad, I too would probably become the champion of a tiny god of rage because I’d sure be a teensy upset about it. Imagine the potential emotional payoff and catharsis to resolving such a false accusation during the story, Brennan doing one of his monologue things, and proving the faith Cassandra seems to have in her familiar correct despite everyone else insisting otherwise. I really really really hope that’s the direction they take it, rather than doubling down she was bad the whole time (fully ignoring the ways her help was integral to sabotaging the plot) and randomly slaughtering her in a Night Yorb treatment.

#Kalina #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #dimension 20 #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #Okay I just needed to get all of it off my chest in one go because it drove me insane to have these arguments in my head with myself #pls Brennan prove yourself to be the great storyteller we know you to be instead of an anticlimactic non-sequitor #I’d be so devastated if it’s just ‘oh evil actually. just ignore 90% of the things she did this season’

[blacklegsanjiii]

Zeffsora!Siblings au, but where Sora is alive + Cora x Sora and Law&Sanji brothers!

Ok so, in this, everything thing is the same except Sora doesn't die but Judge makes Sanji believe she is dead and locks him in the dunsheon. Of course, this don't last even a month until Sora discovers and uses all her strenght to take her son and run away, sending a letter explaining the situation to Zeff right after. So Sanji just stay more or less a month in the dunsheon.

Sora fakes their deaths and steals a both, going away. During this, both meet a 11 yo Law who is sick with a Corazon who is looking for a cure for the kid. The four of them start to sail together after some time.

They sail during two years, until Cora finds the Ope Ope no Mi so Law isn't sick anymore. Doflamingo finds them but don't see Law, Sora or Sanji but still shots his brother, Corazon survives tough.

Some weeks after this, with Cora-san much better, Law using his powers from the Akuma no Mi to heal himself and Sora, they find Zeff. Both siblings are happy to see each other and Sora tells everything that happened during these two years. Her brother can notice she seems to... like the man a little too much.

Then, they stay with Zeff for a while, the man noticing the romance between Corazon and his sister. Is he protective? Of course, but the blonde seems to really love Sora so he thinks he can give Rosinate a chance. Sanji and Law already act like brothers so they pratically are a family.

The CoraSora start a relatonship some time after finding Zeff, definitely taking Law and Sanji as their kids. Sanji sees Cora-san as his father as much as the man sees him as a son. And Law sees Sora as a mother just like she sees him as a son. They all chose to take the last name Trafalgar since Donquixote or Vinsmoke are out of question.

After a year or so, with Law going to start his crew with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin, and Zeff oficially going to open the Baratie, Sanji asks his parents if he can go with uncle Zeff so he can be teached how to be a cook. They talk and ask Zeff if this is okay with him. At the end, eggplant goes with his uncle, Patty and Carne to open Baratie.

Both brothers talk with each other and his parents once a week, they all happy that they have such a health and good family. Then Garp showing and having the idea of bringing his grandsons. Zeff at least tells his sister what his boyfriend is planing.

Garp brings ASL and they get along with Sanji quick. Resulting in a very happy Sanji the news that he made friends to his brother and parents.

Then ASL start liking him more and more and falling in love with Sanji. And Sanji is also in love with these three feral boys, his parents find this amusing and later on they ask Zeff about the boys, he says ASL are good brats and they seems to genuinely and really love Sanji. This makes Corazon and Sora relieved, and they talk that if Sanji wants, then he can date these boys. And no, he did not tell Law this on a call, damnmit! His older brother is protective as hell! Sanji and his parents chose that it's easyer telling Law this when the brothers see each other in person again.

But then ASL just ask him to be their boyfriend and well, seems like the news that he's in love with three feral boys will be changed that he's in love and dating said three feral boys. When Law and Sanji have a call the next day, Sanji says he has news to his brother that he wants to say in person when they meet again. Law is confused but agrees.

A month and half later, Law needs to go to the East Blue remembers what his young brother said and calls saying "I will be in the East Blue in a week, I will go visit you and uncle Zeff". Sanji is happy but also, fuck, he has only a week to think about how tell this to his protective older brother.

Later the same day, when ASL arrive to see their boyfriend and eat lunch in the restaurant, they notice Sanji seems really happy with something, to which he reply "Law is coming here!", which... Don't aswer anything? Since they didn't knew who Law was?

This makes ASL more questions about who this guy was for Sanji be so happy to see, Sanji tells it's his older brother who is a pirate (this makes ASL surprised).

Next week, when Law arrives, both go talk in Law's bedroom on the Polar Tang, the older guy wanting to know what "news" his baby bro had. He creates a room so no one hears them talking, and Sanji tells the news that, yay! He's dating all the three feral boys he telled him about'

Law freaks out. Obviously. But then he talks with Sanji and yes, he is protective, but if their parents and uncle Zeff think these boys are good people, then he thinks he can give them a chance.

The brothers stay all day talking, Zeff saying to Law that him and the crew can stay near Baratie and eat there. Sanji goes to sleep with Law on the Polar Tang, both staying awake talking until it's late.

The next day, as if things can't get better, ASL arrive to see Sanji with Garp. And well, meeting their boyfriend older brother wasn't in the plans, but they're already there so they can't do anything.

And would be funny as hell, because if Sanji is, maybe, 13 there, then Law is 18. And he probaly already is tall (to a point where Sanji almost reaches his shoulders) and has the piercing and some tattos. So think about 14 yo Ace and Sabo and 11 yo Luffy meeting this boy who always has a threatening and serious face.

(Also, in the Law&Sanji!Brothers au, they have so much "sunshine" - Sanji - and "sunshine protector" - Law - vibes)

Absolutely those are the vibes they give off, betcha Law even calls Sanji 'Sunshine' and the parents started calling him that too. Zeff 100% does. The fucking asshole.

Okay so Sora is deathly ill from drinking the poison and is locked off in a medical wing and no one is allowed to visit for 'fear of making her worse' which is absolute shit and they all know it. Sanji is considered a failure and locked in the dungeon with the helmet shortly after and Sora is not having it. She escapes and gets Sanji and once they're off Germa, maybe an island or two away she sends a letter to Zeff.

They find Law and Corazon as they're going along. Law is staring at them as they introduce themselves and Corazon introduces himself back. Sanji and Law are staring at each other because what the fuck? Law is outnumbered by these blonds. He is trapped and surrounded. They start sailing together to look for a cure for Law and Corazon and Sora start growing closer over time. So do Law and Sanji because Law is a lot nicer than his siblings and Law sees a new little baby sibling in him. Law is the first one to start calling him 'sunshine' and Sanji takes to it very easily. As do their parents.

Eventually Corazon gets a lead on the Ope-Ope no Mi so they start hunting it down. When they do find it, it's a fight. Corazon hides the kids and Sora away from everyone. He tells them he loves them and puts them in silence and waits for Doflamingo. He gets shot as he stares his brother down and he passes out after he thinks they're safe, not thinking he'll wake up. So he's surprised when he does and Law and Sanji are standing over him, on their ship, with Sora chiding them from the doorway. They immediately start yelling that he's awake and he's okay! Law did great! 'Mom' and 'Sora' mixed in as she smiles at them and checks on her lover herself and helps him eat and drink as he breaks down crying that they're all okay, they made it away.

Then Zeff shows up a few days later. Law has mostly healed his Sora's ailments when he calls 'Pirates!' as loud as he can. Sora rushes on deck with Cora's gun at the ready until she sees the flag and calms down the boys and calls to Cora it's alright. She knows them as the boat pulls up alongside them and Sora yells to Zeff as loud as she can it's about time he shows up. Zeff yells back she hasn't been an easy woman to track down by any means. They lay the planks so the crew can come aboard and start carrying their supplies over and load the four of them onto the larger ship and once it's clear they sail away and sink the smaller ship so no one can track them. Sanji is excited about a real galley and Law is excited to see new medical journals. Rosinante and Sora are just happy they're all safe as she introduces them all to Zeff and Zeff introduces his crew. They start sailing together and Zeff notices pretty quickly how close Rosinante and Sora are, he doesn't like it, doesn't like there's another man after Sora. He fucking hated Judge and what's happened therefore another outrageously tall blond guy? Zeff asks Sora about everything and she tells him and Zeff is getting ready to sail to Germa as Sora is basically hanging off her oldest brother to stop him which is so funny because Sora is in her thirties and Zeff in his fifties as he's yelling orders to his crew and Sora is telling him not to. Zeff gives in because they simply can't take Germa and asks what she wants to do then. Sora says she just wants to find a place to live with the kids, relatively peaceful but it's the North Blue so she's not hoping for much. Zeff thumbs at Rosinante with his burning coat witch a quirked brow and she says him too. Zeff rubs his face and asks his navigator to find them something.

They sail for a while. Sora and Rosinante getting even closer and Law reading all the journals with the medic and getting more whenever they reach port. Sanji reads all the cookbooks and helps cook and learns with the crew. Law eventually sets off but still calls everyone once a week to let them know he's alive. Sora and Rosinante settle on an island and Sanji heads with Zeff to the East Blue to open Baratie so he can "retire". The family call is always hectic, especially as Law's crew grows and are introduced. When the Baratie opens the three of them can't make it and Sanji is so tired he is nodding off during the call - Zeff does take a picture and sends it to them. Law has it hanging up in quarters of the Polar Tang and Sora and Rosinante have it in the kitchen of their little house. Garp visits Baratie with his grandsons because Zeff is his boyfriend and Sanji could use more friends. Sanji meets them and stares at them as they're all introduced and Luffy rubber bands his arms around the two older boys and Zeff sighs long and loud until he Sanji introduces himself as "Trafalgar D. Sanji" which makes Zeff pinch the bridge of his nose as Garp laughs. The boys get along fine.

Then ASL start liking Sanji more than they used to. Over their hangouts they start noticing exactly how much they like him and start fighting to do things for him which makes Sanji confused. Sanji also keeps forgetting to mention his family outside of Baratie to they boys because they're all so talkative and boisterous. Sanji keeps track of the conversations he's having with each of them but it is definitely a trial because they're all over the place in terms of thinking and talking. It's just a matter of time really before Sanji starts liking them back and truly it's awful because three? Three? No way they like him.

But then they ask him to be their boyfriend and he agrees. When he and Law have their own phone call the next day he tells his older brother who has heard of them on their family calls like normal. The resounding thud on the other side of the call and then the immediate freak out afterwards is bad but so funny. Law yells Sanji is thirteen and shouldn't be dating and Sanji shoots back that at least he is since Law's not and Law threatens to drown him and Sanji throws back he'll take Law with him. Ya know, sibling stuff. Sanji points out everyone likes them and thinks they're good and Law sighs and says he still wants to meet them. He has to come to the East Blue for a few things any way and it's been a while since they've seen each other. Sanji is excited to see his brother and meet his crew in person and just so excited truthfully, so Law gives him the date of when they'll be at Baratie and Sanji is so excited. He's bouncing around the Baratie and when ASL and Garp are visiting they ask why and Sanji is just only saying Law is coming soon and he's excited because it's been a couple of years and he misses his brother deeply. ASL are confused because Sanji is dating them? Who the fuck is Law? Sanji? Sanji doesn't explain further other than bouncing around and Zeff doesn't explain anything to them or Garp. Just rolls his eyes and continues on like usual. Sanji is usually able to focus easily but since finding out he hasn't been able to focus at all.

When Law and the crew come to Baratie, Zeff demands to feed them because they're traveling in a damn submarine and fucking look at them, they're all so fucking pale. Law is trying to talk Zeff out of it but is quickly overrun by his crew and he mutters about mutiny as Zeff laughs. The crew ends up staying all day at the restaurant and getting to know Zeff and Sanji and the staff. Law is obviously protective and laughs when Zeff asks him about the tattoos on his hands and answers he got a nickname from saving those that couldn't be saved without his fruit. Sanji is laughing so hard and Law is constantly hauling him up and shambling him between meals. He of course checks Sanji over and deems him fine. Law shows Sanji around the Polar Tang and Bepo holds the small blond and Sanji is surprised at how soft the mink is. Law drags Sanji into his bed to sleep because it's getting late and they've spent the day running around and using Law's fruit and Sanji has been cooking for them and it's a big crew to cook for on top of normal business. If Law snuck up to Sanji's to pack him a bag and nodded at Zeff to keep his silence for the surprise no one else needs to know. It's just been a while and Law's bed is comfy and the photos snuck of them are bought and paid for by Zeff. Of course.

The Baratie is closed the next day and despite it being closed Garp shows up with ASL who immediately yell for Sanji as Garp tells them to calm down because it was supposed to be a surprise. ASL is met by Shachi and Penguin are standing in front of them asking what they want with their captain's little brother and their confused because Sanji doesn't have a brother? What? Law laughs and asks Sanji why he didn't tell them and Sanji says he needs to try holding all of the conversations they're having together and individually. Zeff comes out to join as the crew spreads out to let the families talk and when ASL find out Law is a pirate and Sanji's brother everyone can see the gears turning in their heads. Sanji is trying not to laugh because Law is scary looking, but he's incredibly sweet and nerdy but also he doesn't cause harm unless it's in self defense really. He's a doctor, a surgeon. ASL are scared shitless of him of, his power freaks them out and Garp keeps trying to convince him to become a marine. Law says he'll think about it in ten years as Sanji laughs and says their parents will love that and Law says about as much as his boyfriends being the grandsons of a Vice Admiral.

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #vinsmoke sanji #answers #red leg zeff #redleg zeff #one piece zeff #fire fist ace #sabo one piece #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #vinsmoke sora #cora lives au #trafalgar!sanji #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar!sora #cora x sora #sora x cora

[akuma-tenshi]

waves my silly arms around who wants to help me out ((descriptions of the fics under the cut))

context / descriptions of the fics:

To Discover, to Love, and to Be Set Free — Dragon Hunter x Fugitive, multi-chapter. The Dragon Hunter receives an invitation to participate in a gladiator-style arena as its newest fighter, overseen by an untouchable queen and her quiet warrior king. Over the course of his stay, he meets his fellow fighters and begins to discover the cracks in this seemingly-perfect kingdom's facade, becomes entangled with the king, and may even become the piece that makes it all fall apart.

Those Who Carried On — CoA7, multi-chapter. In a fungus-infected apocalyptic wasteland there are bunkers scattered about, built to keep the last vestiges of humanity safe and help them weather out the destruction. Frederick has been kept in one such bunker by his father, forbidden from leaving to see the sky. Struggling day in and day out for inspiration, he finally forms a plan with two other residents to escape and find freedom in the wastes. In the desolation, they meet allies, fight off the infection encroaching on the land... and perhaps even catch a glimpse of the brave new world beyond.

Starlit Steps — Seastar (Phantom Sail x Luminary), single chapter. It's been years since Frederick drowned while he was alone on the deck, but Emil still struggles with seeing him out there, so close to the railing. One wrong move and he'll find himself at the bottom of the sea again; and though Emil knows he won't die, the anxiety that churns in him never calms. Still, Frederick insists on staying out there, watching the seas for any sign of the mirage he caught sight of the night of his death. Emil wants to find a way to draw him away from his vigilant post — perhaps asking for a dance will help.

Eternity Awaits Us — Seastar (Phantom Sail x Luminary), single chapter. They've been together for a long time now, sailing the seas, exploring the world, nobody but each other to keep them company. They share a bed, share a life, have pledged eternity to each other without saying a word about it. All that's left to do now is seal the deal with a ring — over the years, Emil's become sure he wants to marry Frederick. Though... acquiring rings as a ghost with no source of income may be difficult. It's time he formulates a plan.

Life Hasn't Spared His Gentle Lover — Canon divergence / roommate AU, single chapter. It's a beautiful morning, and Emil's taking an opportunity to do some gardening. All the better when Frederick decides to join him, allowing Emil to help guide his hands and introduce him to his favourite hobby. Yet their peaceful morning "date" makes way for quiet contemplation of just what brought them to this point in their lives — and instills a new curiosity in Emil when he notices odd patterns of calluses on his lover's hands.

A Collection of Peculiar Dreams. — Frederick x Luminary, single chapter. Recently, Frederick has been having some strange dreams. Dreams about a peculiar pale-haired stranger with gentle, callused hands and eyes filled with scattered stars, clothes woven from the night sky and a smile that makes him melt. Yet each time he wakes, he's left grasping for any memory of his dream, of his nighttime visitor. The more he learns about his late-night lover, however, the more he begins to realise this stranger isn't so unfamiliar after all. (Does contain some NSFW scenes.)

#rambling #emilerick #fredmil #sorry guys i can't make decisions for the fucking life of me #all of these will be worked on eventually. i just need to figure out which is first #so i leave it up to all of you #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #polls #poll time #also yes the coa fic is named after the song by ghost and pals #there is a prequel in the works too that is named after another ghost and pals song (i had to die to survive)

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello! I know that your asks are closed right now, but this idea just popped into my mind and I needed to get it to you before it disappeared. Please feel free to ignore this until your asks reopen or just ignore it in general. I don't want you to feel forced to do anything, especially when I'm breaking your blog rules!

Jack Howl × Gorou M! Reader

I just noticed that you didn't have anything for Jack where he's by himself; so I wanted to give you a bit of inspiration! Have a wonderful day, Mr. Benny.

Jack Howl - With Gorou-Like Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Originally I was going to do all of the asks from franchises that I hadn't written for before first, but then I saw this and remembered that Jack didn't have any stand-alone content on my blog yet, so I just had to right this injustice. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🍐  Jack first met you at the orientation ceremony. He sort of already felt comfortable around you because of your canine traits and the way you carried yourself with such seriousness and determination. The white-haired boy also thought you smelled kind of nice; like the ocean and water-logged wood, but there was also a bit of sweetness in there that he couldn't quite identify. As orientation ended and all the Savanaclaw students made their way to the mirror chamber, Jack's curious eyes stayed glued to your cloaked form.

🍐 Coincidentally, you and Jack ended up sharing a dorm room, how nice for him. He was a bit shocked when you told him right off the bat that if he needed help or just someone to talk to you would readily lend an ear. The fact that he was bunked with such a supportive person was incredibly relieving for the wolf-eared boy. While it would take him a little while to open up to you more, considering you just met, Jack would be sure to act on your offer in the future.

🍐  Jack loves exercising with you! After learning about your previous status as a general before your enrollment in the NRC, he requested to know your exercise routine during that time, to which you happily agreed. You both have a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn and going for a run which made you decide to ask him to accompany you instead of heading out separately. Your skills with a bow and arrow also caught Jack's attention, often watching you practice and occasionally catching glimpses of a certain weird Pomefiore third-year hiding in the bushes.

🍐 During one particularly hot day, you and Jack ended up staying in your shared dorm room after class instead of going outside or to the dorm's indoor gym to exercise; far too hot to will yourselves to move. This is when the wolf beast-man learned of your shared habit of your extra appendages giving away your emotions, your orange-brown and white ears drooping with exhaustion from the heat. When Jack suggested going to the dorm kitchen and making smoothies, he had to hold back a chuckle at how your ears perked up and how your tail began to sway. Although, when you saw where his gaze was directed you grew embarrassed and covered your butt with a pillow.

🍐 Speaking of sweet things, Jack discovered that his dorm mate had a fondness for sweets, he remembered you mentioning that you didn't get them very often while you were a general. He actually whipped up some pear jam on toast for you once to see what you thought about the taste and was happy that he found a fellow pear enjoyer in you. You did tell him that your favorite fruit was something called lavender melon, a tree fruit that was native to the cluster of islands that you grew up on. The fruit was on his mind for a while after that, Jack may or may not have made plans to eat it with you in the future.

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box #ask box #asks #ask #answered ask #answered asks #answered #answered anon #male reader #twst #twst jack #twst x reader #twst x male reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jack #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #disney twisted wonderland #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #jack #jack x reader #jack x male reader

[stratocumulusperlucidus]

WIP REC

I love love love reading WIPs, the anticipation, the excitement of getting the notification for a new chapter, even sometimes the cliffhangers... So here are some of the lovely fics I'm currently reading!

Oh and if you read these, please consider taking a minute to leave a comment, let the author know you appreciate their work 💖

This Is More of a Comment Than a Question by @caterpills

Rating: Mature | Chapters: 3/10

Three weeks before Henry Fox's tour for his fourth, highly anticipated, awards-bait novel A Brief War in December begins, his publicist Janella breaks her foot on a bunny slope at Windham. Alex can't be mad at her, even though he kind of is. Saying it out loud would be like kicking her when she was down, and she already went down a literal mountain in the worst way possible. Now crammed in Rafael Luna's corner office, Janella is shooting Alex extremely apologetic looks while slumped on her crutches, wearing a bright orange cast. The conversation about who is going to be joining Henry Fox on his multi-city trek across the U.S. is also going downhill. Alex is feeling the same sort of free fall while standing still. Because out of all the publicists available in their tiny underfunded department, the only one left to escort their company's best-selling author is regrettably him. The problem is, well, Alex absolutely hates Henry Fox.

Or: Alex is the publicist for Mountchristen Publishers, and is stuck on a two-week tour with their best-selling, but frustrating, author Henry Fox.

Her Royal Highness by @tailsbeth-writes

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 5/?

'Shaan, can you please put an appointment in my diary?' 'Certainly sir, what is it for?' 'A reminder to kill Alex for getting me into this mess.' Shaan tried to hold back a smirk as he stepped back, tapping away on his tablet. 'Personally I think the blue glitter really brings out your eyes, sir.' This terrible idea had started like most of Alex’s did, a seedling planted by the most chaotic of the chaos demons; Nora.

or How Prince Henry ended up as a guest judge on RuPaul's Drag Race UK.

the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n

Rating: Mature | Chapters: 3/6

Alex grips his hand tighter. They’re going to need to have a long, hard conversation in the next five minutes, or else Alex is going to combust right here in Pez’s fancy office. Explode for all of Midtown Manhattan to see. Here lies what remains of Alex, for all the world to witness—taken out by a rogue marriage proposal from his evil boss-turned-fiancé.

Or: Working under editor Henry Fox-Mountchristen was only supposed to be Step One in Alex’s plan of achieving his big dreams—but when his boss winds up facing an even bigger problem, potential deportation, Alex finds he isn’t just a beleaguered assistant anymore. He’s the solution.

It’s fine. They only have to fool his friends, his family, the United States Government…and themselves.

Life Is Not A Movie (But We Can Have The Fairytale) by @lfg1986-2

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 3/?

Three years after the smashing success of the first Red, White and Royal Blue film, Nicholas and Taylor are preparing to return to their roles as Henry and Alex to film the sequel. After a late night of catching up with each other and reestablishing their close bond just before rehearsals begin, they wake up to find themselves in a crazy twist of fate, where fiction blends with reality and the lines between fictional characters and the actors who portray them become irrevocably blurred.

Or

What happens when Taylor is transported into the movie universe and comes face to face with Prince Henry, while Nick wakes up to find Alex Claremont-Diaz in his living room in the place of his friend and costar? Both pairs must work together to figure out how to get themselves back where they belong, and along the way they discover some things about themselves and each other that has the potential to alter their relationships forever.

take me back to San Francisco by headabovethewater / @getmehighonmagic

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 2/8

“You don’t look like you’re having a very good time,” a soft voice suddenly startles him from his thoughts. Henry’s entire body jerks and he spills some of his drink down the front of his shirt.

“Oh, bloody-” He leans over to put his drink on the table and starts wiping at his shirt. “No, I’m- It’s not that, it’s-” He glances fleetingly at the stranger and then down at his shirt again, before his brain finally registers that oh, glasses, dark curls, white smile, exposed chest. Henry’s head snaps back up and his lips part in astonishment. Handsome doesn’t even begin to cover it. Him.

“Hi,” the man says, then chuckles. He hands Henry a napkin and gestures towards one of the other chairs at the table. “Would you mind?”

or, Henry and Alex meet on vacation in San Francisco and an instant spark between them has both of them unable to let the other go. With only two weeks to spend together and the knowledge that it can't last beyond that, it's just a massive, insurmountable recipe for disaster.

Or is it?

Unattended / Unsent mails by amnesia_on_ice / @amnesiaa-on-ice

Rating: General Audiences | Chapters: 4/?

Alex is a Singer Songwriter, henry is his arch nemesis Actor but also secretively writer. There is a long running feud between Henry and Alex. Now they are meeting for the first time in person in a vanity after party and the stan twitter have lots to digest of the meeting.

The story of Unattended/ unsent mails.

the drag of your lips by rizcriz

Rating: Mature | Chapter 2/3

Alex isn’t sure how he got here.

Here being pressed into the couch, his roommate straddling his lap and warm against every point they’re touching, soft lips moving against his own in the most sensual, leisurely pattern that Alex’s fingers instinctively flex where they’re clinging into his lower back. He’s hard in his pants, straining towards Henry, but there’s no desperate hands grasping, no drive to take this any further.

Or, Alex just really wants to make out with someone. Henry helpfully volunteers.

Foxden Park by myheartalive / @myheartalivewrites

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 4/9

“Yes, Alex, what a terrible destiny,” Nora says. “To be hosted for a week by all these charming rich people, who have bent over backwards to accommodate us, including sending their own carriage into town to fetch us. How very dare we drag you into their nefarious scheme.”

—

Invited to a week-long house party at the Duke of Windsor’s country residence, Alex Claremont-Diaz does not expect to find anything to enjoy about his time there. What he does find is Lord Henry, the duke’s younger brother—and a boatload of things to learn about himself.

Seven days in the country in a duke's house. What could possibly happen?

#fic rec #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #rwrb #firstprince #wip rec #fanfiction #ao3 #first prince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

[raina-at]

Manipulation

This is a prequel of sorts to this ficlet from last year, but it stands well on its own.

-----

Sherlock is never sure, right to the bitter end, why she does it. Why she holds on to John so desperately. Why she lies, and manipulates, and plays his insecurities like a fiddle, why she clings to him.

He would like to believe that she loves John. That she loves her daughter. That there is a part of her, however deeply buried beneath self-interest, that wants to have a genuine human connection. 

He’s pretty sure it’s not true. At least it’s not what he saw when he looked at her. When she smirked at him on the Tarmac. 

He remembers what Magnussen said. How John is his pressure point, and he is Mycroft’s. He’s pretty sure that whatever game Mary is playing, he’s as much of a pawn in it as John is. She’s holding John’s heart and his daughter hostage for her own safety, and she knows that having a knife at John Watson’s jugular is the same as having one to Sherlock’s, and Mycroft’s. 

Sherlock hates being manipulated. It’s ironic, because he’s so good at it himself, and he used to do it without a second thought. 

But he’s learned the hard way that anything you gain through manipulation—forgiveness, say, to pick a not so random example—isn’t real. 

Mary, however, has no such compunctions. She shot him in the chest, and from the moment John knew she played the victim of circumstance, and Sherlock went along, ensuring that John believed her story, believed her to have acted out of desperation, not cold calculation. He knew, somewhere deep inside, that she would kill them both if they showed any sign of seeing through the mask. 

But what she doesn’t realise, and learns too late, is that two can play this game. Three, in their case.

She sent John hundreds of texts during the time they were separated. One more manipulative than the other.

Interesting how you’re picking a psychopath who abandoned you over your wife and your child.

Do you care about your child at all?

You’re turning into a deadbeat. Just like your dad.

He doesn’t care about you, John. He never did. He’s telling you what you need to hear because he’s missing having a live-in servant. That’s all you are.

He’ll leave you again. And if you think I’ll take your sorry arse back when he does, you’re delusional.

I’ll take your child and disappear. You’ll never find us.

What she doesn’t know, what she will never discover, is that Sherlock learned from his mistakes.

That he sat John down after that evening at Baker Street, and told him everything about her. About how dangerous she is. That they looked at the memory stick, and discovered that it was empty. That Mycroft supplied them with a full dossier. That every time John texted her back, Sherlock was the one composing the text. That every word she exchanged with Mycroft in the background was shared and analysed. 

That Sherlock trusted John. That he told him the truth. That he finally said, “I love you. I need you. Come home. Bring your child. Let’s be a family. Like we were always supposed to be.”

That so many of her texts reached them as they lay entwined on Sherlock’s bed, talking, listening, kissing, touching, trusting each other. 

That every word John said to her on Christmas was a lie, a script he wrote with Sherlock.

It’s astonishing to Sherlock that she believed the Magnussen story. It makes no sense at all. He would never be stupid enough to risk his, John’s and Mycroft’s safety on a gamble that Magnussen would take a laptop. And Sherlock would never be stupid enough to shoot someone in the head in front of witnesses.

But she stays in her corner, the entire time. Magnussen’s death, his sudden departure, the Moriarty ploy, all the moves they made to scare her into getting sloppy, nothing works on her. She remains in her role as the expectant mother, the reformed criminal, the devoted wife just so glad to have her husband back.

She works on John the entire time. She loves him, she needs him, she wants to start over. She wants him to trust her again—she doesn’t know that he never did—she wants to do counselling. She starts a campaign to get John to agree to move. House in the country, better for their daughter. John sends Sherlock a summary every day, and it’s masterful, the way she plays her cards. John never had the serene, peaceful childhood she says she wants for their daughter. She even offers graciously that he can see Sherlock as much as he wants, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the baby’s schedule. 

How generous, Sherlock thinks, to offer me scraps off your table, to offer me to John like a toy, a hobby, an indulgence. 

And he sees now, with every word she says, with every indulgence she offers as a generous, gracious gift, how she managed to pull the wool over their eyes for such a long time. How she positioned herself as the gracious facilitator, how she played on both his and John’s insecurities, their hurts, their broken trust, until it seemed like she was bringing them together, when in reality, she reinforced John’s self-doubt and his distrust of Sherlock. 

In the end, it’s no use. 

In the end, her time runs out. 

The night John’s daughter is born, they come and they take her away. Sherlock doesn’t know where they’re taking her, and he doesn’t care. He hopes they throw her into a hole and lose the key. He hopes they never see her again. He hopes they can forget her. 

But he knows he can never unlearn the lessons she taught him. They won over her lies by being honest, and they won over her manipulations by trusting each other. The second he stopped manipulating and lying to John, he won. And the second he starts again, he’ll lose. 

That night, they take their daughter home. That night, he makes another vow. One he intends to keep.

-----

Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #johnlock fic #may prompts 2024 #manipulation #I hate Mary can you tell ;-)