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#I only ask that it be nice enough that it won’t turn neck green and that y’all put the picture in it also
theostrophywife · 6 months
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kiss with a fist | chapter six.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: w.i.t.c.h. - devon cole
author's note: some cute soft fluff cause i'm in a tender mood.
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In all your years at Hogwarts, you could count the amount of times you’ve attended a quidditch game on one hand and you wouldn't even need to utilize all of your fingers. Needless to say, you weren’t really into the rowdiness and belligerence of sporting events, but a bargain was a bargain. You were just glad to have Luna with you. Even if it meant enduring Pansy Parkinson’s presence. 
“Be nice,” Luna warned as you approached the stands. 
“I won’t bite if she doesn’t,” you murmured back. 
Luna nodded, knowing that it was the closest thing to an agreement she was ever going to get out of you. Despite your surliness, your friend seemed to brighten the minute she spotted Pansy. In a sea of blue and gold, the dark haired witch was the only one clad in green and silver. Your housemates kept exchanging wary glances at the Slytherin in their midst, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut. 
You watched quietly as Pansy and Luna exchanged pleasantries. While your friend was generally a bubbly person, she seemed extra giddy as she spoke. There was something about the way that she softened that convinced you to ease up on the scowls. It must have been contagious, because Pansy actually smiled and it wasn’t a derisive sneer or a smug smirk, but a genuine smile. You didn’t even know the witch was capable of it. 
Finally, she seemed to take stock of your presence. The dark haired girl jutted her chin out proudly, her aristocratic features schooled into forced neutrality. It occurred to you that Pansy probably received a similar warning to attempt decency. 
“Y/N,” she said. 
“Pansy,” you replied. 
The two of you eyed each other. Sizing up your opponent. The eagle versus the snake, claws against teeth. The staredown was purely psychological warfare. 
You squinted. Hurt her and I’ll maim you. 
The silent warning didn’t seem to offend Pansy. Instead, she gave a subtle nod of her chin and made way for you and Luna to sit. You settled in, trying not to peer down at the drop. Heights had never really been your thing. 
Pansy observed you curiously as Luna patted your arm. “Y/N’s not a big fan of heights.” 
“Oh?” Parkinson asked. 
“I generally prefer solid ground. It reduces the chances of me falling and breaking my neck.” The corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked. “What about you, Parkinson? Are you keen on flying?” 
“A bit.” 
Luna brightened. “She’s being modest. Pansy here is a very talented flyer. She’s got an Abraxan named Circe.”
“The most powerful witch to ever live,” you noted. “She used to turn men into swine.” 
“A lost art, really.” 
You smirked. “The classic femme fatale. A personification of the dangers of femininity. They always paint powerful women in a terrible light, don’t they?” 
“Perhaps it makes the men feel better about their own inadequacies.” 
“We’re always making men feel better about their inadequacies,” you answered thoughtfully. “Convenient that the myths fail to mention that Circe was one of the first pharmakis. Modern magic would not be what it is without her extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and yet she’s rarely credited in any potions books we read.”
Pansy nodded, eyeing you in amusement. “I can see why Nott has taken a liking to you.” 
You turned to Luna who immediately shook her head. Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Lovegood didn’t tell me a thing. She didn’t have to. Theodore never stops talking about you, you know.” 
There was no hiding the flush that crept up to your cheeks. “We’re both vying for the top spot in Slughorn’s class. I assume he has a lot to say about his competition.” 
“It’s more than that,” Pansy said. “I’ve known Theodore since birth and I’ve never seen him put this much effort into anything. He’s always been naturally talented at potions, given his mum’s background, but you challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he’s found someone who’s actually up to par. I, for one, enjoy watching you put him in his place.” 
You smiled. “I quite enjoy it too.” 
Luna looked at you, then at Pansy before a huge grin graced her lips. It was obvious that she was pleased at the sight of her best friend and her…potential more-than-friend getting along.
The game started not long after. Your comprehension of the rules were rudimentary at best, but Luna made sure to explain as best as she could. From what you gathered, there were four positions: seeker, beater, chaser, and keeper. The chasers attempted to score as many goals as they could by throwing the quaffle through the posts, which the keepers guarded. The beaters used the bludgers to disrupt the other players. The seeker, on the other hand, needed to catch the golden snitch. All while floating on a broom hundreds of feet in the air. 
This match, Pansy explained, had been anticipated to be the most brutal of the season. The enmity between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins translated very clearly on the field. While there had always been a divide of support between the other houses, you could tell that the majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands were cheering for the Gryffindors. 
You wondered how that made the Slytherins feel. Three houses against one. After the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic droned on and on about the importance of unity and reconciliation. Professor Slughorn even delivered a speech during your first potions class, but the disparity between words and actions were painfully obvious. 
The rest of the school still mistrusted the Slytherins. If any of them cared, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Especially not as they played. The quidditch team was deadly. You watched as green and silver robes whizzed past, familiar names sprawled on the jerseys. Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire, Warrington, Rosier, and Nott. 
Theo winked as he flew past your portion of the stands. You rolled your eyes, but held your breath as he careened towards one of the goal posts. Ron Weasley stood guard, squinting suspiciously at Theo. The flash of the quaffle was too fast for your eyes to follow, but it sliced the air all the same, slipping through an opening above Ron’s shoulder. The redhead cursed as Theo gave him a mocking bow. 
Pansy was the lone witch in your section to cheer for the Slytherins. Luna joined her in solidarity when the crowd grew quiet. Suspicious glances were cast in your direction, which you rebuffed with a menacing glare. They all found something else to look at rather quickly. 
Displeasure rippled over the crowd as the Slytherins kept scoring. Theo was an unstoppable force. Warrington and Riddle flanked him at each side, throwing bludgers at anyone who attempted to thwart his efforts. The other two chasers, Berkshire and Zabini, circled around them in an aerial formation that confused the opposing team. The Gryffindors grew increasingly frustrated when Evangeline Rosier kept rebuffing their attempts to score. 
Both teams played well, but the Slytherins were ruthless, tactical, and efficient. They used the opposing team’s weaknesses against them. The Gryffindors tended to be over reactive and Theo used it to his advantage. He baited them into making rash plays, which left openings for him and the other chasers to exploit. 
By the end of the game, it was Berkshire who scored the winning goal. The discrepancy between the cheers and booing was insurmountable, but Pansy didn’t seem to care. She cheered for the team louder than anyone. As the win was formally announced, you heard murmurs coming from below you. 
“Stupid Death Eater bitch.” 
From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy tense. Luna’s mouth hung agape as she wheeled around to identify the foul mouthed culprit. You were quicker. 
“What did you just say?” you asked in a deathly quiet voice.
The conversations around you stopped as you faced Romilda Vane. The smug faced witch crossed her arms, her scarlet and gold scarf billowing in the wind as she looked up at the three of you. 
“You heard me,” Romilda said in a haughty voice. “Her father was one of the Dark Lord’s staunchest supporters. As were the Malfoys and Notts. Not to mention Riddle. How he was allowed back at school is a mystery to me. They should all be in Azkaban.” 
Your ears began to ring. The crowd parted as you descended the bleachers, bringing you face to face with Romilda. “I wasn’t aware that you’d recently earned a place in the Wizengamot. For all your prattling, you’d think you were the Chief Warlock.” 
She cowered under your glare, but doubled down as she looked towards her friends. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherins should be punished for their crimes.” 
“I hardly think you’re speaking from any moral high ground, Romilda. Didn’t you try to dose Potter with Amortentia in sixth year?”
Romilda reddened as she sputtered nonsense. The students around you snickered, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. If you hadn’t, you might’ve punched that stupid smirk right off of her face. 
But you knew that physical violence was not the answer. There were far more strategic ways to land a blow and you were an expert in this type of warfare. 
“I suppose Harry’s lucky that your potion making is about as incompetent as your critical thinking skills. Now move before I make you.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing getting tangled up with all those snakes. They’ll sink their teeth into your back the second you turn it.” 
“One of them is worth ten of you. At least the Slytherins fought to defend the castle instead of running off like a coward. They may have teeth, but at least they know how to use them. You’re all roar and no bite.” 
“You’re a bitch, Y/N.” 
You reared back, baring your teeth. “Oh you have no idea, Vane. But I’d be glad to demonstrate.” 
Romilda held her ground. For a split second, you weighed the consequences of harming a fellow student versus the satisfaction of pummeling Romilda to the ground. Luckily for the idiotic Gryffindor, Luna gently gripped you by the elbow. 
“It’s not worth it, Y/N.” 
You looked at your friend who wore an expression of concern. Beside her, Pansy didn’t say a word. She was utterly silent, almost resigned like she encountered this treatment on a daily basis. We all pay the price, Theo had said. 
Without another word, you nodded and bulldozed through Romilda as you exited the stands. It was only when the three of you reached the ground when you finally realized that you were shaking from anger. 
“Are you alright, Pans?” Luna asked, clasping Parkinson’s hand. 
Pansy shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Luna. If I let the opinion of an airheaded twat affect my day, I’d never have a good one again.” 
“Are you sure—” Luna fretted. 
Pansy smiled gently and squeezed her hand in assurance. “Truly, I’m alright. The only thing upsetting me at the moment is that I’ve left my scarf up there running from those hags. Would you mind getting it for me, Lu?” 
Your friend still looked worried, but she nodded and made the trek back up. You and Pansy stood in silence, watching as the last of the crowd trickled out of the stands. 
“Vane had no right to say that,” you said. It came out harsher than you expected. 
“At least she had the gall to say it to my face,” Parkinson stated with a shrug. “I don’t know if that makes her brave or stupid.” 
“Gryffindors often have trouble making the distinction.” 
The dark haired witch laughed. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. As moronic as she is, Vane is right. She was only voicing the opinion of the masses."
“But you fought in the final battle. I saw you rallying the others against the Death Eaters. Romilda wasn’t even there. She didn’t even fight.”
Pansy sighed. “A lot of good that did. I had to watch my friends duel against their own parents and yet this entire school still mistrusts us. I suppose I can’t blame them. The majority of the Dark Lord’s followers were produced by our house.”
“Not all Slytherins are bad. The world isn’t so black and white,” you said adamantly. “Most of us operate in the gray areas, whether we admit it or not. The only difference is that you lot don’t try to hide it.” 
“Yes, but a snake is a snake. Even when we shed our skin, they still see deception when they look at us.” 
“And you’re willing to just accept that?” 
Parkinson gave you a pointed look. What choice did she have? What choice did any of them have? 
After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you sure you’re alright? Luna’s worried.” 
“I assure you, being villainized isn’t anything new to me. I suppose that’s why I named my horse after Circe," Pansy mused thoughtfully. "It’s better for them to believe that I’m some sort of evil sorceress than to realize that I am more shackled by my circumstances than I could ever be at Azkaban. My family name is a collar around my neck, waiting to choke me at any moment, but they’re so blinded by their own misconceptions that all they see are my teeth. I prefer it that way.”
“Oderint dum metuant.”
"Let them hate, as long as they fear." A faint smile bloomed on Pansy’s lips. "That’s awfully Slytherin of you to say. Are you sure you’re in the right house, Y/N?”
You chuckled. A beat of silence followed as understanding passed between you. Perhaps you had more in common with Pansy Parkinson than you thought. 
When Luna returned, the two of them tried to convince you to join them at the common room party, but you declined. You weren’t really in the mood to be around people. 
“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later.” 
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As the sun set over the school grounds, you found yourself at the Black Lake. Dusk tinged the horizon with pink and purple and the fluffy white clouds hung low enough to kiss the dark water. You settled at the end of the dock and dipped your toes into the lake, watching as the motion made ripples across the surface. Maybe it was unwise to linger here given that the lake was home to the merpeople and the giant squid, but they would be far in the depths and you were honestly too knackered to care. 
Sighing, you pulled out a silver flask from your robes. You had initially brought it for the after party, but it would’ve been a shame to let the firewhisky go to waste. 
“Illegal contraband?” A familiar voice teased just as the wood gave way beside you. Theo bumped his shoulder against yours as he sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”
“Yeah, well maybe your idiotic tendencies are rubbing off on me.” 
“I’d like to rub more than just my tendencies on you.” 
You rolled your eyes and handed him the flask. “Just fucking drink, Theodore.” 
He grinned before taking a swig. You chuckled at the face he made from the burn of the Ogden’s. “That is straight up liquor," Theo remarked through his coughing fit. "You're out of control, diavolina. Should I be concerned?”
“We’re celebrating,” you said. “At least you should be. That was quite a win out there. I didn’t expect you to be so….efficient.” 
“Careful, Y/N. That was almost a compliment.” 
You shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t been to a game in years. You could’ve been absolutely rubbish and I’d still think it was a feat that you managed to stay seated on that broom.” 
“Well, it is a pretty important component of quidditch. Did you at least attempt to enjoy yourself?” 
“It was a brutal game. There’s a lot more strategy and planning that goes into quidditch than I initially thought. It’s like chess, but you’re allowed to hit people. I had a blast.” 
Theo chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d get a kick out of all that violence.” 
Warmth spread through your body as you took another swig. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your win at the party?” 
His fingers brushed yours as you handed the flask back to him. “I’m where I want to be.” 
This time, you weren’t sure if it was the firewhisky or Theo’s presence making you flush. The two of you kept drinking in silence as you peered up at the sky. Back home in London, you never would’ve been able to see the stars this clearly. They glittered in the night sky like tiny diamonds etched through the darkness. 
“I heard about what happened earlier,” Theo said after a moment. 
You weren’t surprised. Word traveled fast around this school. “Luna told you?” 
“No. Pansy did.” He shifted, turning over to look at you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you did too. “You did a good thing, Y/N. You stood up for Pansy. I can’t thank you enough.” 
“I was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.” 
“No. You weren’t.” Theo set the flask down. “No one else would’ve come to her defense. Pansy, she’s the strongest one out of all of us. Draco, Mattheo, and I, we can always resort to punches when we’re insulted, but Pansy doesn’t have that option. She just has to sit there and take it. It means a lot that someone spoke up for her.”
“I did the bare minimum.”
“It still meant a lot.” 
“There’s no need to thank me for—”
Theo sighed in exasperation. “For Salazar’s sake, will you just take my gratitude without arguing?”
You bit back a smile. “Fine. I acknowledge your gratitude.” 
You downed the rest of the flask as Theo lit a cigarette. The flame from that curious Zippo flickered in the darkness as smoke filled the air.
“So,” Theo started, taking a deep inhale. “Are you ready for the slug club dinner next week? I’m not even invited to the bloody thing and yet I still know every detail thanks to McLaggen’s incessant prattling. What a twat.” 
“Cormac is kind of a twat, isn’t he?” you asked, giggling as the alcohol started taking its effect. “I heard that he kisses like a fork tongued lizard.” 
Theo’s eyes flashed. “You better not know that firsthand.” 
You wrinkled your nose. “I wouldn’t go near McLaggen’s mouth with a ten foot broom.” 
“Good. I can rest easy that you won’t be replacing me with a reptilian snogger.”
“You can rest easy either way. I’m not going to that dinner.” 
Theo paused, the cigarette hanging haphazardly from between his lips. “What do you mean you’re not going?” 
“It’s a pretty straightforward sentence, Nott. I will not be attending Professor Slughorn’s ridiculous dinner.” 
“You have to go,” he declared firmly. 
“I’m confused. Do you want me to snog the lizard or not?” 
Theo frowned. “Do not snog McLaggen unless you want me to turn him into an actual reptile.” He exhaled and smoke curled around his lips. “You can’t miss that dinner.”
“I have no interest in attending.” 
He stared at you, his gaze fixed with determination. “Is this about what Slughorn said the other day?” 
You picked at your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “It’s probably going to be boring, anyways. Just a pissing contest for us to compare our grades and achievements like we’re puppets on a string.” 
“You should still go.” 
“Why?” you asked, a bit irritated that Theo was pushing for this so hard. You would’ve thought that he of all people would understand your choice. “Why would I subject myself to be part of something that judges people based on prejudice rather than merit?”
Theo’s expression softened. “Because it’ll raise your chances of joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. That’s your dream, isn’t it?”
You reeled back in surprise. “How do you know about that?” 
He rolled his eyes. “You only talk about it a thousand times a day.” Theo raised his brow in challenge. “Slughorn’s one of the most influential members. If you go to the dinner, it might solidify a formal invitation.” 
Theo was right. You didn’t want him to be, but he was right. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve sabotaged and plotted and schemed for a way in. This was an opportunity to distinguish yourself from your fellow classmates, so why were you hesitating?
You knew why. You were looking right at him.
“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Theo declared. 
You sighed. There was no way he was going to let this go. “Fine, I’ll think about it.” 
Theo smiled triumphantly. You kicked at the water, sending a wave across the still lake. “You know, if Slughorn knew that you were a Marchesi, he’d probably fall all over himself to recruit you. Hell, anyone would. You’re practically guaranteed a place at the Society, too.”
Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “Where would the fun be in that?” 
“I’m serious, Nott. It could open up doors for you.”
He sighed. “That’s exactly why I’ve kept the knowledge to myself. I’m tired of everyone judging me based on my family, good or bad. I want to accomplish something that’s solely mine. Not Nott, not Marchesi. Just Theo.”
“That’s uncharacteristically noble of you.”
“I told you, I’m not just a pretty face. I’m also rich, witty, intelligent, athletic, etc. Honestly, the list goes on and on.”
You snorted. “Just don’t expect humble to be part of that little myriad, Theo.”
Theo paused. The moment of silence swelled between you like an errant wave. Then, a huge smile broke out on his face. 
“What?” you asked. 
“You called me Theo.”
“Well, that is your name. Has quidditch concussed you so severely that you’ve forgotten?
He responded with an eye roll. “I’m perfectly lucid, thank you very much. Well, besides the firewhisky. I’m a little bit sloshed from that, but not sloshed enough to not notice you call me by my actual name. Not Theodore, not Nott, not twat, not oh god—”
“I get it, Theo.”
His grin grew wider. “There it is again. Theo.”
“It’s just a name, nothing special.”
“It is when you’re the one saying it.” 
“Oh, shut up.”
The satisfied smirk on his face refused to budge even as the sky grew darker. The two of you sprawled out on the dock, staring up at the sky and enjoying the comfortable silence. Theo toyed with his lighter, rubbing his thumb over the spark wheel, which caused the flame to flicker on and off.
You stared at the lighter, vision blurring from the alcohol. “Why do you have that thing?”
“I told you, Mattheo’s a little thief.” 
“No, I mean I know the reason. But I just can’t figure out why.” 
Theo scrunched his brows in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one concussed?” 
“Would a concussed person be able to do this?”
You propped yourself up on your elbows and slightly flipped to the side. The action made your hair come loose. 
“What in Merlin’s name am I supposed to be looking at right now?” 
“I’m obviously doing a cartwheel,” you deadpanned. “Aren’t I?” 
Theo chuckled. “You are one drunk witch, Y/N.” 
“M’not drunk.” He raised a brow. “Fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit bevved, but you’re the one avoiding my question.”
“Sorry,” Theo said rather unapologetically. “I’m a bit distracted at the moment.” 
“By what?” 
“Your hair,” he murmured softly. Theo reached out and toyed with a loose strand, twisting a long lock between his fingers. He swallowed thickly, his voice lower and huskier than it was a minute ago. “You should wear it down more often.” 
“It’s a hassle.” 
He swept it over your shoulder, knuckles brushing your cheek. “It’s beautiful.” 
Your cheeks warmed. Whether from the alcohol or his touch, you couldn’t differentiate. “Stop deflecting, Nott.” 
Theo rolled his eyes. “Relentless witch. Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here?” 
You gave him a pointed look. Theo sighed before handing over his lighter. Up close, you could see that the silver was worn and dented. It looked much older than you initially thought. To your surprise, Theo silently waved his wand and the lighter transformed into a heart shaped locket. 
“When my nonna gave me the grimoire, it came with this. It was Alessandra’s old locket. She treasured it more than the grimoire itself.” 
“What’s so special about it?” 
“Open it.” 
Your fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t get shy now, diavolina. You wanted to know and now I’m telling you.” 
You hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the best of you. The locket popped open easily. Inside was a picture of a dark haired woman standing next to a man with watercolor eyes and thick brown curls. The couple looked at each other with love and adoration in their eyes. 
“That’s Alessandra, obviously. The man was Damiano, her closest friend, the mad scientist of the village, and the cleverest muggle she’d ever met. He helped author the grimoire.” 
“I never knew that Alessandra had help with her inventions.” 
Theo nodded. “As my family intended. They didn’t approve of her relationship with Damiano, but she didn’t care. They fell madly in love and eventually married.” 
“How is it possible that no one knew about him?”
“Damiano was born with a unique illness that was incurable even with magic. Alessandra poured years of her life into finding a cure, but in the end he succumbed to it. She passed away only a year after him. My nonna said that she died of a broken heart.” Theo took the chain and traced his fingers over the picture. “They left behind two young children who were eventually raised by Alessandra’s parents. Their son and daughter grew up not knowing who their father was. The Marchesis did everything in their power to keep the knowledge to themselves. They didn’t want anyone to know that their great bloodline was tainted by a muggle.” 
Theo bowed his head in shame. He avoided your gaze, choosing to look out at the Black Lake instead. “There it is. The secret that my family has guarded for centuries. The sad part is that some of them still hold those bigoted beliefs, so when people assume the worst of me, I can’t blame them. The Marchesis, the Notts, either way you look at it, there’s bad blood coursing through my veins.” 
“That’s not true, Theo,” you said softly. “You know I don’t think that of you, right?” 
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Everyone else does.” 
“Well, I don’t,” you said firmly. “You said it earlier. Family isn’t all that a person amounts to. When I look at you, I don’t see a Nott or a Marchesi. I just see Theo.” 
“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. The saddest part was that you were sure he meant it. “My great great great grandmother fell in love with a muggle and how did my family repay her for it? They blotted him out of existence.” 
The starlight caressed his forlorn expression with its silver glow, painting a heartbreaking depiction of Theo that you had never seen before. It reminded you of that day in the potions lab when he was talking about his mother. There was such an openness and vulnerability in him then that was present now as well and you realized why he looked at you the way he did that day. 
Theo hadn’t been waiting for you to give him an out. He wanted—no, he needed a friend and you had been too scared to step up then, but you weren’t now. You could be that for him. You wanted to be that for him. A friend. 
Without second guessing yourself, you reached out in the space between you and grabbed hold of his hand. Theo stared at your intertwined fingers in surprise. 
“The love between Damiano and Alessandra lives on,” you said with a small smile. “In their children and their children’s children. In…you.” 
Those watercolor eyes, the very same ones that you had grown so familiar with shone with emotion. Unlike the day in the lab, Theo didn’t put up his mask of cockiness and arrogance and you realized with a start that you didn’t want him to. 
He smiled and squeezed your hand gently. “Yes, I suppose I inherited Damiano’s affinity for cruel, brilliant witches.”
"Affinity is putting it lightly," you said teasingly. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me, Nott."
You blinked as Theo hovered over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours ignited a flame of fiendfyre in your core. He dipped his head down, his curls tickling your nose. "No, not Nott. Not Theodore. Try that again, diavolina."
You wriggled underneath him, but Theo held your hips in place. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked when you tried to kiss him. His low rumble of laughter sent shivers down your spine. "Say it. Say my name again."
"If I say it, will you stop being a tease?"
Theo kissed your neck and laughed when you pouted in response. "Only one way to find out."
"I'll knee you in the crotch if you do that again, Theo."
He grinned. "There's a good girl," Theo said rather suggestively. You fought the urge to squirm at his words. He peppered kisses along your neck, your jaw, and your cheeks while you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. "For the record, I am obsessed with you, but I think you're a little bit obsessed with me too."
"You wish, Theo."
"You're going to be the death of me," he said huskily as he unbuttoned your cardigan. Theo's eyes were full of mischief as he dipped between your breasts, sucking on your flesh and leaving marks in his wake. "But I'm willing to die a happy man, Y/N."
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gudfornuthin · 1 year
Note
Hi I was just wondering of you can make a Bernard x reader and maybe just a little lime or smut please thank you so much ❤❤❤
Sugar and Spice
Bernard the Elf x reader
Working as a baker at the North Pole was no easy task. Especially when the overbearing head elf is breathing down your neck. When true feelings are brought to light, how will you deal with them?
Thank you for the request! It’s not really smut as I’ve never written that before so it’s not intense but I’ve mixed this fic with an idea I already had. I kinda went off the rails lol. Hope you enjoy❤️
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( gif credit to @corrodedcoffins )
It was an as always cold, winter morning at the North Pole. Elves scrambling around, making sure everything was complete and ready for Christmas. Less than two months to go and they were falling behind. Santa had only checked the naughty and nice list once, the workshop needed major renovations and three of the reindeer have fallen ill. Safe to say that everyone was on edge. Especially head elf, Bernard.
Striding across the grounds, his expression was anything but happy. Having a less than pleasant conversation with Curtis, he needed time away from the chaos, just for a moment. Bernard hated to admit, but he didn’t do well with stress. The constant pressure put on his shoulders, always feeling like if anything goes wrong, it’s all on him. It’s tough. And he needs some time to relax.
Making it to the front doors of the bakery, he walks through, immediately hit with the smell of fresh cookies and gingerbread. Bernard continues through to the main area, dodging elves holding steaming trays. He arrives by the ovens where he finally sees you. Messy hair, flour down your apron, and what appears to be sprinkles stuck to the sleeves of your shirt. Raw dough scatters the once clean tabletop and Bernard rolls his eyes at it. Mess was never good.
You turn around and spot the head elf, smiling wide. “Oh hey Bernard! Wasn’t expecting to see you this early.”
“Y/N,” he replies in a less than cheerful tone. “Working hard I see?”
“Well I was decorating some of the gingerbread houses and realised there was some icing left over from the cookies, so I had an idea,” the young elf’s eyes light up. “Rather than wasting time and making more red icing, I’ll just use the remaining green icing I already have for the gingerbread houses and have it all matching!” You breath out and spread your arms, happy with your work. Bernard, less so happy.
His eye begins to twitch and his teeth clench. He didn’t want to lose his temper, but the day had already set him on that track. “You can’t do that. You have to follow the recipe exactly as it’s written. You can’t change it without consulting the others otherwise the other bakers won’t make it like you have.”
You blink, taken back by his blunt response. “Sorry, I didn’t realise it would be a big deal. It’s changing one colour and better yet, saving ingredients. Which I thought you’d be all for.”
Bernard knows you’re right, but he can’t seem to drop the sudden grudge he’s holding against you. He grabs for the icing. “No, there’s not enough time to change things so just stick to what you’re supposed to do.”
Sadly, you were equally as stubborn. Furrowing your brow, you snatch the icing away. “Who put coal in your stocking?” You jest, but the metaphorical question still stands. You’d been in a pretty good mood until Bernard showed up, seemingly ready to put up a fight with anyone who got in his way.
He reaches for the icing once more, but you pull back. This continues on, both of you acting like a young child unwilling to share their new toy. The other elves in the room have stopped to watch the display you’re both apart of.
“Y/N this isn’t funny either give me the icing or I’ll have to ask you to leave the bakery for today.” “Make me.”
You both glare at each other. Bernard pulls one last time on the bag and you squeeze, the icing pouring out fast and covering both of you in the sugary treat. The elves gasp. You both stand there in shock.
“Bernard I’m so sorry I didn’t meant to-” you’re unable to finish the sentence before the head elf turns and walks away, leaving through the back doors, slamming them in the process. You stand alone, feeling defeated and childish. You didn’t meant to go off on him. It all just seemed to blow out of proportion. Grabbing a kitchen towel and trying to wipe off the icing, you dash after Bernard.
———
You find Bernard in his office, using a worn rag to rid himself of the mess caused, muttering over and over again. You knock on the door and he looks up. His face turns blank. He huffs out and nods, you taking that as your sign to enter. The place is filled with tension, unsure who should break the silence first. You take the leap.
“You ran out of there quick. Didn’t give me any time to apologise.”
“It’s fine, just needed to clean myself up.” Bernard scrubs his top vigorously, the icing unwilling to leave. You make your way further into the room, arriving in front of him with your towel. “Here, you’re just making it worse.”
Bernard admits defeat and allows you to swab at the remaining sugar. He avoids eye contact, looking anywhere but you. Whether it was because of the scene you both caused, or the current close proximity, you didn’t know.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Bernard whispers, still looking off into the distance, “your idea was really smart, helpful. It’s just been a rough few days.”
“It seems to me that you only ever have rough days,” you stop what you’re doing and look up at him, “you can talk about it you know. Never bottle these things up.”
There’s a silence for a while, the only sound heard from the towel rubbing the icing off a shirt which definitely needed a proper wash.
“I sometimes wonder if I’m good enough to be head elf.”
His response shocks you. Sure the last few months seemed to have Bernard on edge, but he’d always been able to handle it in the past. Hearing him question his abilities made you feel sick, wondering how long he’d felt this way.
“Bernard, you are an incredible head elf. We’d all be in shambles without you!” He shakes his head but you continue on. “Everyone looks up to you; you make sure deadlines are met and the elves are at ease. Santa wouldn’t be able to do this job without your help.”
You take his hands and he finally looks at you, a slight blush covering his already rosey cheeks. “Bernard, you don’t need to do this by yourself. You can’t put all this pressure on you when things fall slightly behind. And you certainly can’t quit as head elf. We all need you,” you take a deep breath, “I need you.”
Bernard’s eyes grow wide, as do yours, shocked by what you just said. Sudden thoughts rush through your head. You’d always known there was something there when it came to the head elf. You found him attractive, and blushed anytime he was near. But saying it out loud now felt strange. You felt vulnerable. You felt stupid. Coughing awkwardly you step back.
“That was out of line, I’m really sorry if that’s made things awkward I didn’t-” before you can muster up a lame excuse, Bernard steps forward, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss. It takes you a moment to understand what’s happening, but soon after you place your hands on the sides of his face and kiss back. He pulls you closer, the movement forcing you to stand in between his legs while he leans back against the desk. You hate how cliche it all feels, but sparks were truly flying. One of your hands moves up into Bernard’s hair, slightly pulling at the curls, eliciting a moan from his mouth. He turns you both around, now with your back against the desk, as he lifts one of your legs to wrap around his waist. It was intense. It was surprising. It was definitely long over due. Who knew slightly switching up a recipe would result in this?
Bernard moves his kissing down your neck, biting hard and more than likely leaving a mark. You pull harder on his hair and tilt your head, giving him more access.
“God, you’re amazing,” he says in your ear with a slight husk. “I could stay in here with you forever.”
Sadly he doesn’t, as there’s a sudden knock on the door, throwing you back into reality. A small voice is heard from outside the room. “Bernard, you’re needed down in workshop.”
He pulls away from your hold, turning to the door and clearing his throat. “I’ll be right down, thank you.” There’s a slight wobble in his voice and you smirk, knowing it’s because of you’re previous activities. He looks back at you, reaching for your hand and smiling timidly. You smile back and shuffle your feet, a sense of awkwardness setting. Bernard doesn’t know what to say, but thankfully you beat him to it.
“It’s okay, we’re okay. We can talk about this later tonight,” you move closer, winding your arms around his neck and playing with the shorter hairs at the back of his head. “Go be the best head elf the North Poles ever seen.”
His smile widens, and he leans in for one last kiss. After a few moments, you both let go and he strides out the door with a spring in his step, feeling a lot better than he did earlier. You can still feel his lips on your neck and his hands on your waist. It was definitely a good way to start the morning.
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biancadjarin · 1 year
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🖇Office Romance🖇👔
Jim Halpert x female reader (y/n only used a couple times)
18+!!! Warnings- cursing, unprotected p in v, sex in public
Notes- more Eddie content coming soon I promise but idk I just started rewatching the office again and my Jim crush came flooding back to me. This is a situation where obviously Jim and Pam aren’t together, because I’d never get in between #jam 🥰
You push the door to the kitchen and walk through, going to the second door and into the annex. Passing Toby who’s on the phone with an emotional Kelly, you head to the supply closet. As you slip inside, you see your office crush Jim scanning the shelves, hands lifting tiny boxes of paper clips looking for the ones he wants.
“Hey.” He smiles lightly at you, “I’m not hiding from Michael in here. Ok fine, actually I am, don’t tell on me.” you giggle at his little joke.
“Your secret’s safe with me. What are you looking for?” you ask sweetly, walking closer to him. “I like those medium paper clips. And all we have left is the tiny ones and the huge ones.” He sighs, shouldering slumping dramatically. “But maybe if I look hard enough, some will appear.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You need something?” He eyes you up and down curiously. “Post-its.” You say, stomach filling with butterflies under his gaze. “But I can grab them.”
You stand in front of the shelf, shoulder lightly touching his side, tall frame towering over you. Being this close to him, he smells like evergreen bar soap and the faint hint of chocolate, probably from the hershey kisses he’s been eating at his desk all morning.
Intoxicated by his proximity to you, you turn your chin to look up at him, your hands feeling around on the shelf aimlessly, mind distracted. His chestnut hair flipping up slightly over his ears, his big green eyes scanning the office supplies. You’re lost in a daydream staring at him. His cheeks ignite into a bloom of pink as he feels your eyes on him.
You’ve been a temp at Dunder-Mifflin for a couple months and in that time, you’ve gotten to know Jim pretty well. You two talk all the time, have lunch together, sit next to each other in the conference room meetings. Sparks ignited every time his knee would brush against your thigh or his hand would grasp yours when he would laugh particularly hard at something stupid Dwight would say. Jim has his own way of flirting but he’s too nice to ever try anything with you. He stares at you from across the office when he thinks you’re not looking, he makes excuses to come over to your desk twenty times a day. But you’re not satisfied with the light flirting. You want more of him.
You decide to be bold and make a move. Risky but if it doesn’t work out, you won’t be at this company much longer anyway. You move your body to stand behind Jim’s, hands leaving the shelf and moving to curl around his middle. His body tenses under you at first, softening as your hands trace up and down the sides of his thin button up. You hear a soft sigh as he turns to face you, your neck bending back to meet his eyes.
His hands come up to cradle your face, eyes softening, “y/n, are you trying to distract me?” he jokes, his voice low and gravelly. He doesn’t seem surprised or caught off guard, more relieved that one of you is finally doing something about this mutual crush. He slowly leans in, eyes fluttering closed as his lips hover close to yours. Your face is serious, eyes staring at his blissful face, pupils blown large. You want to kiss Jim, just not yet. You want to have a little naughty fun first. “Turn back around Jim.” you tell him. His eyes widen at you, face paused only inches from your face. He does as he’s told and turns his back to you.
Your hands resume their exploring, dipping low to tickle over his belt buckle. His breath hitches as you run your fingers over the zipper of his pants, going a bit lower on either side to find his member. “Mmph.” He groans as one of your hands comes into contact with it, sitting against his thigh and already partially hard. His hands grasp the edge of the shelf to steady himself, head falling forward.
Your hands continue to rub him through his pants, pressing your palm lightly into it as you go down, curling your fingers around the outline of it as you pull back up. His breathing is fast and shallow. A small “fuck” spills from his lips and you smile against his back devilishly.
Suddenly he grabs your hands to stop you. Your stomach drops, worried you’ve crossed a line. He turns around to see your worried face, bottom lip being nibbled by your top teeth. He smirks, “You keep doing that, m’gonna cum way too fast.” You release your lip, mouth hanging open at his words. “I knew you were a bad girl.” He says, body pushing closer to yours. The tent in his pants pushing into your hip as the soft flesh of his lips graze the shell of your earlobe, “Go lock the door.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and went and pushed the little metal knob into the handle. Your mind races and is blank at the same time as you walk back to Jim. His eyes are locked onto yours as he undoes his belt and pulls down his zipper, his pants falling to the ground and pooling around his ankles.
You stand in front of him again, hands raising to unbutton his shirt. Before you can undo the top button his hands are grasping behind your thighs, squeezing and hoisting you up to sit on an extra desk that sits in the room. You let out a squeak at the sudden movement, making him giggle at your cuteness.
“So fuckin’ hot.” He says as his hands squeeze at your waist, running down to your hips. He begins to pull at the fabric, pulling the bottom of your pencil skirt up, up, up until it’s bunched up around your waist. Your lacy black thong and matching black stockings sandwiching the plush, pale skin of your thighs. His fingers settle on the smooth skin there, gripping tightly.
You lean in and attack his mouth in a greedy kiss, his big nose tickling your cheek as you move your head around, kissing him deeply. Your tongues intertwine and smooth over each other’s passionately. His kiss is better than you’ve imagined, which you’ve done a thousand times in the past while you’d stare at his mouth. Your heels fall off your dangling feet as your curl your ankles around his legs, pushing his boner closer to your core.
You unbutton his shirt buttons starting at the bottom, pushing it back and off his shoulders as you undo the last one. He’s pale and scrawny underneath, not surprising, but what is surprising is how toned he actually is. His arms are large and strong, his stomach soft but defined at the same time. A light patch of soft hair leading from his belly button to down beneath his boxers. You let your hands wander over his chest, grabbing handfuls of his pecs and pinching his nipples playfully. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling, leaning back for a second to switch to the other side of your neck.
“Been thinking about fucking you since you started here baby.” He says between kisses. “Always look so good. So sweet to me.” He smiles against your skin. “Never thought someone as beautiful as you would want me.” Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, how could Jim not know how cute he is? You don’t say anything through, thinking it’s better to keep these guys humble.
“Fuck me then daddy.” You say whiney and soft. He looks at you with eyes as big as saucers, frozen for a second. “Call me that again.” His hand is squeezing his cock, hardening even more at your little nickname for him. “Pull my panties off and fuck me hard daddy. I need to feel you. Now.”
He nods his head as his hands come up to your hips, pulling the thin black fabric down your thighs, past your calves, over your ankles and off of your feet. He places them delicately on the desk next to you, fingers patting them gently. “Let me keep those when we’re done?” He asks shyly. You giggle and nod, pulling his neck towards you again to kiss his lips.
His hands begin to pull down his boxers, you pull up your top over your head, blinded for a second by the fabric. When you can see again, you’re met by his large member standing at attention, thick vein running up the underside and wrapping around towards the head. His mushroom cap tip is the same warm pink shade of his lips, maybe pinker. The slit in the top is shiny with precum, some already starting to dribble out in little pearls.
“Wow.” You whisper out. He pulls your thighs toward him, angling your hips and lining up with your entrance, tickling your dripping folds with the head of his cock teasingly. “Start slow ok?” You ask him softly, worried about fitting all of him. “Course.” He smiles at you. His eyes watch where you two are connected, all his focus directed on opening you up slowly. You feel the stretch starting as the tip of his head breaches your entrance, stopping at the ridge that separates it from the shaft. Jim’s mouth hangs open as his warm breath comes out in soft pants. His eyes squeeze shut as he pulls the head out, to push it back in only that far and pull it back out again. He does this a few times, inching in his cock a little more every time he enters.
You moan at the feeling of slowly being filled up by him. Your hands come up to grasp your breasts through your bra, the meaty flesh of them spilling over the cups. Jim’s mouth attaches to one of them, suckling at the skin harshly enough to leave a Jim shaped bruise behind.
He groans out a pained sound as he finally bottoms out in your tight hole, his heavy balls sitting against your ass. “You ok baby?” He checks on you. “Mhm. Faster now daddy.” He bites his bottom lip and groans again as he pulls halfway out and pushes back in faster, harsher. Your ankles cross behind him, under his buttcheeks as his hands hold your thighs tightly to keep you steady. “So-so tight baby. You like how daddy’s cock feels? Huh?” Jim asks through gritted teeth. You smile at his growing confidence before letting your head lull back and eyes close. “Yes daddy, your big cock feels so good. Can barely fit it all.”
Jim’s body leans over yours, your chests meeting each other’s. He sets a rough pace, quickly pistoning into your pussy like a man starved. The wet squelch sounds of him abusing your hole and Jim’s short clipped breaths fill your ears as you let a high pitched moan escape from deep in your throat. The head of his cock is so deep inside you, hitting that spot that your fingers can never reach. One of his hands comes up between you, finding your puffy clit with his fingertips, pressing and circling it softly but fast. “Oh my g- daddy that feels so good don’t stop!” You say louder than you probably should.
He has a thin sheen of sweat on his body, chest shimmering with droplets, hair sticking to his forehead. His hand pauses his movements on your sensitive button to reach up and pull at your bra straps, moving them down your arms until your breasts spring free. Your nipples hard and pointing at him, his hands grasp them roughly, feeling the pebbled bud under his palm.
“I love how your tits bounce baby, look at them.” He says, out of breath. Your eyes are closed, feeling your orgasm creeping up on you, thighs shaking and walls of your pussy fluttering as you feel the muscles deep within you constrict. He sucks in another breath, “fuck baby, you’re getting even tighter.” You grab his hand and return it to your clit, “Need you here again.” you demand. “Yes ma’am.” He says, enjoying being bossed around.
He rubs your clit again, fast and sloppy, his fingers slipping on and off of it because of all the slick covering your entrance. His other hand is holding the back of your neck, forcing your eyes to meet his, foreheads resting against each other’s. His movements are getting sloppier, stuttering as he goes in and pulls out. His pink cheeks are red with effort, chest turning pink too. “Mmm’gonna cum soon daddy!” He smiles, nodding in agreement.
You hear the door handle rustling. You both look over at it but don’t slow down, too close to stop now. “Keep going.” you whisper “please daddy.” He does, wrapping his big hands on the soft sides of your lower back, fingertips resting on your dimples. He holds you firm and still, fucking into you relentlessly. You feel the tight pull inside you pulling further and further, every molecule buzzing with the sensation that’s building. Jim falls into your shoulder, mouth sucking at your neck as his quiet moans and pants get higher pitched. “Jim! Are you in there?” You hear Dwight’s voice call.
“Fucking ass-mhpm” he groans. “M’gonna cum beautiful, and I don’t think I can pull out, can I come inside? Please?” “Yes daddy, fill me deep with your cum.” You say as you reach the peak of your pleasure, orgasm hitting you and making your vision blur and mind get hazy. You feel Jim collapse into you, moan getting lost in your hair as he tries to stay quiet. Jim’s cock twitches as he empties his load deep inside of you. The door handle jiggles a few more times, “I’m going to get my emergency keys!” Dwight threatens. You meet each other’s eyes, panicked, Jim kissing your lips quickly before pulling out of you and bending down to pull up his boxers and pants, throwing his shirt on while you get redressed also. Thankfully, most of your clothes were just pushed up and out of the way, never really taken off. You slip back into your heels, both of you smiling at each other and giggling as you smooth your disheveled hair and run your fingers over any wrinkles in your clothes.
“Fuck.” Jim exhales a big sigh, “That was incredible. Thank you.” He says as he starts to head to the door, “I’m gonna kill Dwight.” He slips out to go find him. You give him a 2 minute head start, grabbing the post-its that you originally came in for off the shelf. As you’re about to leave, something catches your eye. Your lacy panties are still sitting on the desk. You grab them, stuffing them in the pocket of your skirt.
When you go back to your desk, you pass Jim and Dwight arguing. “Well why did you have the door locked? That’s a safety hazard. I should tell Michael!” “I told you, I must’ve locked it by mistake, you’re overreacting, as usual.” You feel kind of guilty as you sit in your chair, trying to remember what task you were doing before you left.
A few minutes later, Jim comes over to lean against the edge of your desk, arms crossed over his chest. You meet his eyes with worry, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. “Do you think he knows?” “Dwight?” Jim sucked his teeth, “Nah, he’s paranoid but he’d never think about that.” “What if he does? What if he figures out what we did?” You ask panicked. “Aw baby,” his says softly, hand coming out to caress your cheek before dropping back down to his side. “If he figures out what we did, then I’m so fired.” Your eyes widen as he laughs at you. “It’d be worth it though.” He leans close to your face. “So you grabbed your panties right?” You nod slowly, hand tracing over them in your pocket.
He puts his palm out in front of you. “Hand ‘em over y/n. I’m confiscating those for further investigating. The case of the locked supply closet door. What ever could’ve happened in there?”
FIC MASTERLIST HERE
💕💕💕Thank you for reading!!💕💕💕
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svechnikovvv · 1 year
Text
wildest dreams
pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader
warnings: just general profanity, but if there’s anything, let me know (:
summary: a week with trevor alone can lead to much more
a/n: in a recent fan interaction, trevor said his favorite taylor swift song is wildest dreams, so i wanted to do something based off of that. his spotify wrapped top artist is also taylor swift, so i mean, c'mon. no proofreading because we die like men. also wanted to say i have a christmas band concert coming up and i’ve been putting off practice to finish this for you all 🫶🏻
masterlist: here
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he said, “let’s get out of this town
drive out of the city, away from the crowd”
i hear my phone buzzing on my nightstand and i ignore it and for a brief moment, it stops. then it starts buzzing again and i groan, looking to see who’s calling me. i see trevor’s name on the screen and i answer.
“hello?” i ask, voice groggy with sleep
“unlock your door” is all he says before hanging up
“wha-” i get out of the warmth of my bed and make my way down the hall to the front door. i unlock the locks and sure enough, trevor is standing there with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. he looks up at the sound of the door opening and a small smile graces his face when he sees me.
“trev, why the hell did you wake me up?” he slides by me and into my aparment.
“yeah, just make yourself at home,” i grumble to myself, shutting and locking the door back. trevor makes himself comfortable on my couch and i lean against the only recliner in my living space.
“come with me,” he blurts out, finally looking up at me with hopeful eyes.
“go where?” he shrugs
“wherever. i just want to get away”
“you do know it’s 2 in the morning right?” i take a seat on the recliner and he nods at my question.
“then why do you want to just up and leave? can't this wait until morning?” he plays around with his fingers. a habit i’ve noticed he does. he’s anxious.
“there’s just so much going on here and i need a break.”
“but why do you want me to go?”
“i figured you could use a break, too. and besides, you’re my bestfriend.” right. bestfriend.
“hypothetically, let’s say i agree. how long are you planning on being away?”
“i was thinking a week. maybe?” he scratches the back of his neck and awaits my answer.
“you already have a suitcase packed in your trunk, don’t you?” he smiles at me
“you know me so well, y/n” i sigh and stand up, heading to my room. he follows suit and when we’re in my room, he takes a seat at the spinny-chair by my desk. i walk over to my closet and grab out my suitcase and plop it on my bed, unzipping it. for a minute, trevor sits there and watches me as i pack the clothes i’ll need.
then when i take a glance behind me at him, he’s spinning around. a small smile makes its way onto my face and i turn back to my suitcase.
“don’t spin too much, z. you’ll get dizzy” he stops at my words and goes back to watching me.
“did you pack that green dress?” i furrow my brows and look at him.
“it’s late fall. why do i need a dress?” he shrugs
“what if we want to go to dinner?” i roll my eyes and head to my closet, pulling out the exact dress he’s talking about. i set it aside, knowing i’d have to hang it up in his car so it won’t wrinkle.
“nice hoodie,” he says and i furrow my brows then look down at one of his hockey hoodies that i stole.
“you gave it to me one day and never asked for it back. so i just kept it” i see his face go a bit red and i go back to packing.
once i was done packing my clothes and shoes (which was only a pair of heels and my converse), i grab one of my tote bags hanging up and pack everything else. like my keys, wallet, etc. once that was done, i unplug my charger and grab my favorite blanket to use in the car. trevor insists on taking my luggage and we make our way to his car.
he sets my things in the trunk alongside his and i quickly hang up the dress on the hook above the door on the passenger side.
once trevor and i got situated in the car, which included seat warmers on max power and heat on, we were on the road. i laid my seat back just a little and cozied into my blanket.
“have you thought of a destination yet?”
“i was thinking my hometown?”
“you’re the one driving, not me.” he chuckles and i start to doze off. maybe an hour later, i'm being gently shaken awake.
“y/nnnnnnn” i hear a soft voice call out and i start to wake up a bit from my amazing nap.
“jesus?” i hear the person laugh and i open my eyes and adjust them to the harsh lights. i see trevor crouching in front of me and it appears that we’ve stopped at a gas station.
“there she is. hey sleepyhead” he has a soft and genuine smile on his face and i’m sure i look rough.
“what are we doing?” i croak out and he stands up, holding out a hand for me to take. i push my blanket off of me and the cold, boston air immediately hits me, but i take his hand nonetheless.
“figured we should make a pit stop. you know, get some snacks and i gotta refill the tank.” i nod and we head inside the gas station. i drop trevor’s hand and make my way over to the drinks and grab two gatorades. i scan up and down the aisles and grab a bag of blue doritos and chocolate covered pretzels. because who doesn't love them?
i then feel two hands place themselves on my waist and if i didn't smell trevor's familiar cologne, i would've panicked.
"you ready to check out?" i nod
"shit! i left my wallet in the car. can you hold my stuff while i go get it?" i go to walk away but trevor stops me.
"i'll pay for it" he says without a concern in the world.
"no no. i can't possibly make you do that, trev" he shrugs
"just pay me back when we get in the car" i huff out a fine and we head to the counter and the cashier rings up our items. trevor then pays for his gas and we head back to the car. i take the bag of snacks and slide back into the warmth of the car. i reach into the backseat and grab my tote bag and pull my wallet out of it. trevor finally finishes pumping the gas and slides back into the driver's seat.
"you gonna knock out again?" he asks me, a playful smile on his face. i just shrug.
"maybe. but here," i hold out the money to him and he shakes his head no.
"but you-"
"it was a trick so i could pay for you" i shake my head and figured i'd just put the money into his wallet when he wasn't looking. we're back on the road and i get warm under my blanket again, thus resulting in me taking another nap.
another hour later and i’m shaken awake again.
“y/n, hey. we’re here” i crack my eyes open and look at trevor and he has a big smile on his face. we’re outside of a hotel and trevor takes our luggage inside as i follow suit, blanket wrapped around me and all. when we got to our room, i see there’s only one bed but i could care less about that right now. i wanted to sleep.
i walk over to the bed and fall onto it, closing my eyes.
“still tired?”
“you woke me up at 2am, of course i’m tired” he laughs and sits beside me at the edge of the bed. he pushes a stray hair out of my face and smiles down at me.
“you get some sleep. okay? i’m gonna be right here if you need me.” i nod my head as trevor gets up and sits on the other side of the bed. i hear the tv click on and i doze back off again after that.
i thought, “heaven can’t help me now”
nothing lasts forever
but this is gonna take me down
spending a week alone with trevor was as difficult as i expected it to be. everyday we spent together, the more my feelings for him grew. and we had to share a bed? what is this, a nicholas sparks movie?
as much as i tried to shove those feelings away, a part of me liked this little trip. the selfish part of me. the part of me that got used to waking up entangled with trevor every morning. the part of me that loved his simple forehead kisses he’d give me. but every now and then, it’s okay to be selfish. so i cherished every moment, every passing glance, every touch with him. because nothing lasts forever.
i knew that, when we went back to boston, things would go back to normal. and i dreaded that moment so much. trevor zegras was my weakness.
he’s so tall and handsome as hell
he’s so bad, but he does it so well
i can see the end as it begins
my one condition is…
there was no denying that trevor was a sight for sore eyes. any room he stepped in, he had heads turning to look at him. some even giving him a double-take. pretty sure that one time when we were out, someone stopped him to ask him if he was a model.
don’t get me started on his attitude. he had a way of convincing me to do things with him. like one time, we stole a keg from some frat party. and nobody, to this day, suspects it was him because he doesn’t really talk to any of the frat guys. how we got away with it is still a mystery to me.
i knew that, on that night, things were going to get messy for me. that night is the night i realized how i truly felt for trevor. the fog was no longer there and the skies were crystal clear now. i was falling hard for trevor and i’m afraid he doesn’t reciprocate.
they always say you miss the shots you don’t take, but for now, i think i’ll be a benchwarmer. until i get some liquid courage, i’ll be on the sidelines. i did, however, make a promise to myself.
don’t get too attached.
say you remember me
standing in a nice dress
staring at the sunset, babe
red lips and rosy cheeks
say you’ll see me again
even if it’s just in your
wildest dreams, ah, ha
wildest dreams, ah, ha
i was afraid for this week to end. every rule i set for myself was out the window. i was only setting myself up for failure by agreeing to go with him on this trip. we would be together for a week and then after it was over, we’d go back to how things were.
i will admit though, as much as i hate the emotions i’m feeling, trevor planned some nice things. i’m glad i ended up packing that dress.
***
i was sitting on the hotel bed, clicking through channels when trevor sent me a text.
be ready in 30
oh, and wear that green dress (;
i set my phone down and smile, shaking my head. I walk over to the closet and grab the green dress hanging up, slipping it off the hooks of the hanger. i head into the bathroom, changing into it. once that was done, i just applied some mascara and lip gloss, keeping it light and simple, but still elegant. i pop in the earrings my grandmother passed down to me, as well as her ring and a necklace. all that was left was my heels.
i sit down on the edge of the bed and struggle to get the heels on. after many failed attempts though, they were strapped and i stand up. walking back into the bathroom, i look at my reflection in the mirror and softly smile. not often did i get dolled up, but when i did, i felt amazing.
i walk back into the room and just in time to see trevor walk through the door. when he looks at me, he goes quiet. his eyes take in all of me and he walks towards me, so that we're less than a foot apart from each other.
"y/n, you look... wow. i- wow." i chuckle softly and start to walk to the door.
"come on" he snaps out of his trance and grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. we walk down the hallway and step into the elevator. he turns to face me.
"i do mean it. you look amazing" i give him a smile
"you don't look too bad either, zegras" he laughs and my heart melts. i always love when he smiles or laughs because his eyes crinkle. the satisfaction of being the one who made him laugh is a major reward. the elevator door then opens and we step off, preparing ourselves for the harsh new york air that's awaiting for us.
we successfully make it to his car and heat is immediately turned on.
"aux is all yours tonight," he shoots me a wink and backs out of the parking lot. i hook my phone up and pick a song i knew would get a reaction out of him. the faint tune of you belong with me starts to play through the car speakers and trevor gasps. he then turns the volume up some more and i laugh. he starts to sing along as he drives.
"come on, sing with me, y/n!" the chorus starts to play and i join in singing.
"if you could see that i"m the one who understands you, been here all along so why can't you seeeeee you belong with meeeee. you belong with me!" we both shout together and i only wish trevor can pick up on the hint i'm dropping by playing this. i'm brought out of my thoughts by the music being turned down and i look over at trevor. he never turns down taylor swift.
"hey, what's going on in that pretty mind of yours?" i look over at him and he's focusing on the road.
"nothing too important. it'll resolve itsellf" he absentmindedly nods and then i get out of my spunk and turn the radio back up.
"ready for the next song?" i ask and he nods
"hit me with your best shot, l/n" love story starts to play and he laughs.
"i love this song!" i knew he did. it's why i played it. he then starts to belch out his lungs, word for word and i just watch with a smile on my face. he looks at me and his smile widens.
"what?" i shake my head
"you're something else, trev" the smile is still on his face as he looks back at the road, still singing along.
"he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said, 'marry me juliet, you'll never have to be alone. i love you and that's all i really know. i talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress, it's a love story baby just say yes'!" he continues to sing along as i watch with amusement and when the song ends, another one starts. the perks of queing songs.
we continue to sing taylor swift songs and then we finally arrive at the restaurant. it's a nice, hole-in-the-wall place. trevor then rushes around to my door and opens it, holding out his hand.
"m'lady" i take his hand
"why thank you, kind sir" i laugh and then we head to the restaurant.
after trevor and i stuffed ourselves to the brim, he had somewhere to take me. he said he "knew a spot." he wasn't wrong. trevor pulled into a clearing that overlooked the small town and the sun was setting perfectly against the scenery. i stand near the edge of the drop-off and just take in everything with admiration. a shiver then goes through my body and trevor speaks up from behind me.
"cold?" i nod and he walks off to the car, grabbing something, then coming back. i feel something warm drape over my shoulders and i melt into it. it was his suit jacket. i slip my arms through the sleeves and wrap it around myself.
the headlights of trevors car shining on us and the faint sounds of night changes by one direction playing in the back really set the scene. i turn my attention from the sunset to look at trevor to see him already looking at me. he has a soft smile on his face and it makes me smile.
"why are you looking at me like that you goof?" i laugh and his smile grows wider, if that's even possible. he holds out his hand.
"may i have this dance?" i nod and take his hand in mine. we sway to the music and i want to capture this moment and keep it frozen in time.
***
i smile at the faint memory. i hope he treasures that moment as much as i do.
i said, "no one has to know what we do"
his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room
and his voice is a familiar sound
nothin' lasts forever
but this is gettin' good now
i was in the midst of cooking myself dinner when i hear three knocks at my door.
"just a second!" i call out, washing my hands. i then walk over and open my door and see trevor standing there.
"trevor, what are you doing here?" i furrow my brows and he places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.
"i was expecting more enthusiasm from you, y/n" i roll my eyes and he walks in like always.
"mmm. something smells good"
"yeah, i was in the middle of making dinner" he takes a seat on my couch and i go back to cooking.
"whatcha making?" he asks as he turns the tv on, flipping through channels.
"first, tell me what brings your unannounced visit. not another road trip, is it?" he briefly looks at me before looking back at the tv.
"can't i just come see my favorite person ever?" i shrug even though he can't see me.
"i suppose you can" i hear his footsteps making their way over and i look behind me to see him sitting on the small counter i have. he starts to kick his legs back and forth as he watches me move around my small kitchen.
"now, what're you making?"
"chicken alfredo" i say and his face lights up
"yes, you can stay for dinner" he does a small victory dance and i laugh. he continues to talk to me while i cook, and when i'm done, he makes himself a plate. the next action was so quick, it caught me off-guard. he places a kiss on my forehead, thanking me for dinner, and takes a seat at the small table i have, digging into his food. i stand there processing the action before i make myself a plate as well, joining him at the table. we eat in silence for a few minutes before trevor speaks up.
"mom says she wants you to come back again" i laugh and look at him
"already?" he nods
"i swear she loves you more than me. hell, even ava and griffin miss you" i smile
"they just can't resist the y/n charm" he rolls his eyes playfully before taking another bite of his food.
"she says you're welcome there anytime"
"will keep that in mind" we continue to converse and when we're done eating, we go sit on the couch. i watch whatever trevor puts on tv, and we watch it in silence for a good while before he's the first to break the silence yet again.
"y/n, there actually was a reason i came here today" he pauses the movie and i look at him. he's looking at his feet and i can tell he's anxious.
"trev, you can tell me anything. okay?" he looks at me before looking back at his feet, nodding.
"there was a reason i asked you to accompany me last week" i sit up and turn my body to face him. my silence is enough for him to continue. he then faces me and finally looks me in the eyes. i don't think i've ever seen him this serious in a while and i'm curious as to what he's going to say.
"y/n, i like you," he pauses. "scratch that. i'm in love with you. i asked you to come with me last week because i can't get enough of you. i couldn't possibly imagine spending a week away from you. i thought that a week away with you would be a hint to show you how i felt, because everybody says actions speak louder than words, but nothing happened. so here i am, pouring my heart out to you."
out of everything i was expecting, it wasn't that. i'm at a loss of words and i can see the doubt filling his eyes. he starts to stand up.
"thank you for dinner." he starts to leave but i finally figure out how to talk.
"trevor," he turns to look at me. "you didn't give me a chance to talk" is all i say before he's seated back in front of me.
"trevor, i've fallen for you, and i've fallen hard. i thought that you didn't feel the same way back. i kept telling myself that i shouldn't get attached because after that one week with you was over, that's all it would be. over. nothing would happen. and for a second, i thought i was right. but now you're here telling me you feel the same? i don't know how to react. i'm happy, over-the-moon, elated, whatever other adjective there is." a smile as big as the cheshire cat's graces his face and he places both his hands on either side of my face.
"can i?" i nod and he gives me a kiss that is nothing short of amazing. the kiss you hear about in books and see in movies. we then pull away and he rests his forehead on mine.
"i can't tell you how happy you make me," he softly whispers, bringing a smile to my face.
trevor ended up staying the night with me. not thinking much of it, i let him use the hoodie i stole of his and some men’s grey sweatpants i thrifted. he discarded his previous clothes somewhere in my room. we fell asleep facing each other as he ran his hand through my hair.
however, the next morning, i woke to someone knocking on my door. i sleepily make my way to the door, seeing who it is before opening it. when i see that it’s my bestfriend, i open the doors and am immediately hit with the harsh sunlight. i squint my eyes at her and she laughs.
“morning sleepyhead”
“hey, why are you here so early?” she holds out a bag
“early christmas present since i’m about to hit the road home for the break” i take the bag from her and just my luck, trevor decides to wake up.
“y/n?” he calls out from my room and my bestfriend gives me a look.
“you had someone over last night?” i nod and she gasps. “you whore!” i shush her and then i hear footsteps making their way to me.
“y/n, come back to bed. i’m cold & you’re a nice heater” trevor pouts then wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.
“oh. my. god. it’s happening. okay, i better get going. nice to see you trevor. y/n, you have a lot of explaining to do. bye lovebirds!” she calls over her shoulder before walking off and i shut the door. i turn in trevor’s arms to face him and his eyes are still closed, a sleepy smile on his face.
“you’re lucky i like you” i say, kissing his nose as i walk back to my bedroom. trevor’s hold on me doesn’t falter though, so it’s like i’m dragging him. i set the bag down and then climb back in bed, trevor clinging to me. he rests his head on my chest and soon his breaths even out, letting me know he’s asleep.
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tags: @goldenbrokenheart
a/n: i know i didn’t continue the whole song, but i felt i was at a good stopping point (:
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hederasgarden · 2 years
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I've got you under my skin
Summary: You and Rhett make the move to Bozeman and settle into your new lives as you wait for the baby to come.
Pairing: Rhett Abbot x F!Reader 
Word Count: 1.3K
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Pregnancy sex, unprotected PIV, nipple play and dirty talk. 
A/N: This is part of my Small Mistakes New Beginnings Series. Thank you @skvatnavle for the title and advice on writing this and @callsign-phoenix and @green-socks for looking this over. Likes are wonderful but reblogs and comments feed the muse. 
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It’s a little before 11 am when you hear the crunch of gravel in the driveway followed by the slam of a car door. A minute later, the front door opens, and Rhett appears. He slips his hat off, and runs a hand through his hair. When he sees what you’re making for lunch he smiles.
“Another quesadilla?” He asks, amused. “How many have you had today?” There’s no judgment in his voice, only soft affection. 
“Three,” you admit, biting into the cheesy meal with a low moan. It’s the only thing you want these days. Everything else seems to upset your stomach. The eggs Rhett made for breakfast last weekend made you queasy, and the steak he brought home from work last night sent you running to the sink to throw up.
“You got an addiction, girl,” he says, pulling you into his arms. 
He kisses your forehead. You lay your cheek against his chest, happily munching on your lunch. You love having him close, his familiar smell is enough to make your whole body relax and the baby in your belly kick. 
“This is nice,” you hum. “But why aren’t you at work?”
“I missed my girls,” he says, rubbing your back. “And the farrier won’t be done for another two hours so I sent everyone home for a long lunch.”
You wrap an arm around his waist and continue eating, letting him sway you back and forth. It’s been three months since you moved to Bozeman with him and left Wabang behind. You’re both better for it but the difference in Rhett is more noticeable. He’s lighter here, happier without the weight of his family’s expectations. 
Things between the two of you have been good too, even with the growing pains that come along with moving in together and starting a relationship. Small squabbles and hurt feelings were quickly resolved, though you know the bigger test will be once the baby arrives. You’re mostly worried about your own emotions and responses – Rhett’s been surprisingly even-keeled even when you were at your worst. It’s just another thing to love about him. 
“I thought we could have some lunch together,” Rhett continues, putting his hands on your hips and turning you to face him fully. Your belly pushes up against his stomach when he leans down to kiss you yet he somehow still manages to press tightly against you. 
It’s meant to be a quick peck but when your sensitive nipples brush across his chest you moan into his mouth. The sensation goes straight to your core. You rise up on your toes to grasp the back of his neck and rub yourself against him again, slowly turning your upper body back and forth. The friction feels unbelievably good.
Rhett pulls away, grinning at the soft sound of distress you make. The skin around his eyes crinkles. “Or we could do something else to pass the time.”
You’re already nodding your head in agreement when he reaches up and cups your breasts in both hands, running his thumb back and forth over your nipples. You nearly buckle in his arms, feeling a rush of warmth between your thighs. 
“You alright, honey?” He asks, continuing his slow assault on your breasts. 
From the look on his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You lick your lips and gasp again, clutching his biceps. You feel almost feverish. Pregnancy hormones weren’t exactly new, you were familiar with the ever-shifting emotions. This is something different. You can’t even be embarrassed at your response, you're so needy for him.
“Rhett…” Your voice wavers, faltering over his name. He pulls you to him for a kiss that’s just a touch too rough but your body responds all the same. 
“Come on, I got what you need,” he says, walking you back to the small bedroom you share. 
He grasps the hem of your dress and pulls it over your head when you reach the edge of the bed. Your bra comes off next and you groan at the sensation of the cool air brushing across your naked breasts. When he gets to your underwear and tugs it down you can see there’s a wet patch there. He brings it to his nose and inhales, blue eyes darkening. 
“Get on your hands and knees.”
You do as he says, looking over your shoulder at him while he undresses quickly. He climbs on the bed behind you, running a large, calloused hand up your back to grasp your neck. He nudges your thighs apart and drags his fingers through your slick folds. There’s no resistance when he pumps two digits inside. You arch forward, making a desperate little sound. 
“Shhh. It’s alright,” he promises, lining himself up. 
He pushes in with a low noise of his own and reaches around to cup one breast in his hand. When he pinches your nipple you clench around him hard, almost wailing. He curses and shifts forward.
“Please,” you beg. 
"I know, I know,” he soothes. “I got you.”
You feel mindless when he starts thrusting into you without pause. His chest is pressed tightly to your naked back and his breath puffs against your cheek. One hand grips the headboard for support. 
"Rhett," you gasp, head dropping forward as he cradles your belly. He holds you carefully and encourages you to meet each stroke. You moan, desperate for release. To have him come inside you again. "Need it," you whine. "Rhett. God. Yes."
“I hate any moment I'm not inside you,” he pants. “Filling you. Fucking you."
He moves faster. The bed shakes beneath you and he strokes your stomach, fingers dragging down to where he disappears inside you over and over again. It doesn't take much, just the scrape of his nail over your clit for you to come. You shake with overwhelming pleasure and your core squeezes Rhett’s cock, greedy for him.  
He comes with a pained grunt, filling you with warmth. You’re both panting and sweaty. You expect him to pull away but after a moment he starts rocking into you slowly, each stroke making you quake. You can feel him leaking out and lean forward on your forearms, cheek pressed against the bed. When he finally withdraws he helps you lay on your side. You’re exhausted and a little cold, welcoming the blanket he pulls over your naked body. The kiss he drops to your brow is light and you doze until he returns to clean you up and offer you some water. 
You watch him dress through half-lidded eyes, offering him a sleepy smile. 
“I have to go back to the feed yard,” he says with a grin. “But you should take the rest of the afternoon off,” he instructs. 
“I should go back,” you yawn, pushing yourself up. Rhett fixes you with a look. “Or maybe I’ll stay in bed,” you amend, sinking back down. 
“Good girl,” he praises, smoothing a hand over the crown of your head as he stares down at you. “I’ll pick up something for dinner. I don’t want you to leave this bed until I get home.”
“I can’t stay in bed all day,” you protest.
“Do it for the baby,” Rhett reminds you, trotting out his favorite argument to get you to listen to him. He knows it’s a sure fire way to get you to stop arguing about something. You found it hard to take it easy, anxiety and the need to distract yourself kept you constantly moving.
“That’s unfair.”
“What’s unfair is I gotta go back to work thinking of you naked and full of me,” he returns. “You gonna let me have you again when I get off work?”
Warmth creeps into your cheeks as you nod and another big smile breaks over his face. You press your thighs together in anticipation. Surely you could wait another six hours. 
Taglist: @mysticaldonkey @letsfvckingdance @ughdesireable @goobieboobie @maggiescarborough @a-reader-and-a-writer @wildbornsiren @dumb-fawkin-bitch @maria-allegra @stormsouls @the-hottest-lieutenants @sydneyhlove @cool-ultra-nerd @nik2blog @mayhem24-7forever @xofangirlthingsxo @skvatnavle @ladyluckycreator2 @thebestandworstdayofjune @ice-mans-world @Maxi-milf-dot-com @straightforwardly @cowboybarbie @shaded-recs @daughterofthereaper02
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starfall-spirit · 8 months
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@officialfeysandweek2023
Day 3: Family
Read on Ao3
Summary: Feyre comes home to find her two favorite boys have gotten into her paint and brushes for some quality time as father and son. Once Nyx is down for the night, Rhys shows Feyre just how much he missed her while she was away.
CW: Smut
It had been a long day. A long few days actually, separated from Rhys and Nyx to handle business in Day on her own this time. Feyre was exhausted and all she wanted to do was kiss her little boy, soak in the bath, and fall asleep in her mate’s arms. But of course, her boys were never courteous enough to let her plans go exactly the way she planned. Even with the Riverhouse clock reading a quarter till nine the first sound she heard was a warm belly laugh that could only belong to one little boy.
It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, and contagious enough his father reflected it, the pair of them tucked away in her studio if she had to pinpoint the sound. She was already dreading the damage she’d find when she got down the hall.
There they were, right where she guessed they’d be, her wonderful mate and four-year-old sprawled out on a heavy cloth, various brushes scattered around them. “Tomorrow we do Mama’s.”
“Alright, little star. We’ll ask tomorrow.”
“Do you think she’ll like it?” Nyx asked, brow scrunched as he sloppily dragged his paintbrush across Rhys’ tattooed forearm.
“I know she will,” he promised, raising his eyes to where she stood in the doorway. “Won’t you, darling?”
Nyx gasped, springing to his feet and, green paint splattering against Rhys’ shirt as their son flung the brush to the floor and scrambled to Feyre’s side. She suppressed her wince as his paint-covered hands smeared against her skirt. Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix. Hopefully. “Mama, we were painting, see?”
“I see that! You did a beautiful job on Daddy’s tattoo.”
Apparently, it wasn’t colorful enough. So we colored it. Tomorrow it’s your turn.
I heard, she purred back, taking in the ugly muddle the red, green, and purple had blended to. Lucky me, I have two to paint.
Don’t worry, darling. I’ll help you clean up.
The Riverhouse tub was big enough for two.
She leaned down, scooping Nyx in her arms. Damn the dress. She hadn’t seen her little boy in days and they certainly weren’t hurting for money if she needed to replace it. “Come on, handsome,” she said, brushing her nose against his until he giggled. “Let’s get you in a nice warm bath and under your covers, hm?”
“But I’m not tired,” he insisted, his voice distorted by a deep yawn.
She turned back to Rhys who merely raised his brows as if waiting for her response. Oh, so you're making me be the bad guy tonight, are you? 
Well, Feyre, you’re the one who told me it was time to stop playing the villain.
That had nothing to do with fatherhood, prick. Still, since she’d been away, Feyre let it slide. “I’m sure you're not, little star,” she told Nyx. “But it’s still bedtime.” He pouted, but leaned his head on her shoulder, humming softly in contentment before drifting to sleep as quickly as an infant might. A bit of simple magic had both her boys clean of paint, even if she knew from experience the grime of the feeling would be left behind. “The bath can wait until morning.”
Rhys nodded, leading the way to Nyx’s room and turning down his bed so Feyre could lay him down and press a kiss to his forehead, unwrapping his chubby arms from around her neck. “Goodnight, my sweet boy.” Sneaking out of the room, she turned back to Rhys. “Before you get into any more trouble—” He wiggled his brows at the implication. “—I’d like to get that mess cleaned up so the brushes don’t dry stiff.”
“I’ll buy you new brushes,” he promised, kissing her neck in a way that made her short of breath. Five years together and the smallest touches had her toes curling. She knew they’d have a thousand more with the bond between them. 
She really needed to clear her head. “There’s no need for that, Rhys. They’re in perfectly good shape. I don’t feel like coming into a messy studio tomorrow morning. Let’s just get this done, okay.”
He agreed, begrudgingly. She took his silence as a sign of disappointment, rather than anything suspicious. A mistake she wouldn’t be repeating. Because as she ensured the paints were properly sealed and tucked away, she felt a sticky glob splatter against her face. The familiar scent of her blue acrylic filled her nose and she whirled to face her mate who was already grinning back at her devilishly. All she wanted when she got home was a bath and bed, but now… She had never been one to ignore a thrown gauntlet. Dipping her hand in her own can of paint, she lunged to smear it across his face rather than clumsily fling it at him.
The escalation from there was catastrophic, and Feyre was very grateful she had the foresight to cover her finished canvases before leaving for the Day Court. Every wall was patched with blue, red, green, and yellow. And finally, when they were both covered head to toe, gasping for air between their laughter, Rhys knocked the brush from her hand and brought her down to the ground.
“I should have known better than to come see you boys dressed up nicely.”
“Ah, yes, my pretty diplomat. We all make mistakes.”
“Do you want to hear about Helion’s plans for—” 
“Tomorrow,” he murmured against her lips. 
The kiss was deep and slow and exploratory. Perfect. Until she made the mistake of brushing her tongue against his lips and the familiarity was broken by the taste of splattered paint. “While this is bringing back some delightful memories that I’m all too happy to recreate, I can’t say I’m so fond of the taste of paint.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. I believe we discussed a tub earlier.” Rhys scooped her into his arms before heading toward their room where she could already pick up the familiar scent of lavender that revealed her mate had started a bath for her. She groaned. “I know. I’m the best mate in the world and you’d never survive without me.”
Bargain or no bargain, she was sure he was right either way. That didn’t stop her from denying it, though. “Your ego is too big for your own good.” 
He laughed again, watching as she went to work peeling him out of his ruined clothes, his own skilled fingers efficiently opening the buttons down her spine until the dress pooled to the floor, utterly ruined beyond repair. “I’ll buy you another,” he murmured, kissing away her slight pout. He growled softly when he glanced down to assess what she’d been wearing beneath that dress. “My mate, off securing our political standing in my favorite bit of lace. Cruel female.”
If only to reinforce just how much he loved that red lace, he made excruciatingly slow work of dragging the scrap of fabric down her legs, sinking to his knees in the process. That look in his eyes said it all, early as strong as a thought down the daemati link. I know how much you like seeing me kneel for you, darling.
He didn’t give her the chance to say something smart about it, either, shooting back to his feet and carrying her to the steaming bath, his mouth sealing over hers. His hands slid over her body, massaging just as much as exploring. She sighed against his mouth as the heated water and the roll of his knuckles and fingers worked out the knots earned through both stress and training.
“I don’t suppose you’ll listen if I tell you to take it easy the next few days.” She ignored him, nibbling along his collarbone as his hands slid down beneath her shoulder blades to the worst tension—muscles pulled and overworked while supporting wings. Despite shifting away from the heavy, boned Illyrian wings, as Feyre had begun to favor the anatomy of the Seraphim, the weight and exertion still left her sore. Her fascination had started after their visit to Cretea last summer. She had donned the feathered wings and leaped at the chance to join their annual race, finding even as she lagged, they were easier to hold up and maneuver. Certainly lighter.
And Rhys had helped her discover all sorts of new sensitivities after receiving a few not-so-subtle pointers from the males residing on the island. 
“We can review that tonight, Feyre darling,” he offered, having snuck past her shields to replant the image of her coming undone beneath him, lines of red streaked down his back as he worked one of those sensitive points until she was a wrung out puddle beneath him. 
“You’re a menace,” she growled back, starting to work a sponge over his neck and chest, staining the water around them as she repeatedly rinsed and wrung it dry. 
Simple magic cleared the water each time, until they were both clean from top to toe. She enjoyed these moments, simple as they were. Maybe it was the simple intimacy, or maybe it was the quiet pride in knowing she was the only female who had done such things for him, not only regarding access to his wings, but the nonsexual intimacy they shared was worth everything. The warmth in his eyes and the lazy circles he was tracing at her hips and the small of her back said he found it just as precious.
Standing from the pool-like bath, he set her down on the mat before towling her off with the utmost care. “Bed,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
She nodded, a ripple of something down the bond suggesting she had no need for pajamas at the moment.
Perching on the bed, she took her brush from her bedside table and brushed the knots from her hair. Not that it would stay tangle free for very long. For all the small magic fae possessed, she’d yet to find anything that might solve the rat’s nest she was left with night after night. 
She felt Rhys watching her from the doorway. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you the past few days?” 
She smiled. “Are you going to tell me or show me?” Suddenly she wasn’t feeling all that tired.
His lips curled in a smirk. “We mentioned wings, I believe.”
Finally she turned to look at him. “It seems we’re both lacking there.” 
Why he had vanished them in the bathroom, she didn’t know. But it hardly seemed fair that only one of them would get to play tonight. He gave her a smile she could almost call sympathetic. “We’ll have time for the fun of that another night. But considering that I’ve been home watching Nyx while you’ve been out doing such hard work as High Lady,” he suggested, as if their child wasn’t a heathen hellbent on making their lives difficult lately, “you deserve to take things easy now. Let me take care of you tonight, Feyre,” he said, already rolling his thumbs into one calf, kissing the inside of her ankle as he watched her summon her wings before reclining into the pillows behind her. “Gorgeous,” he praised. “Absolutely stunning. And all mine.”
He crawled up the bed, leaving a trail of kisses as he went, wasting no time with further foreplay. That was for another night. Tonight he’d made his sole focus clear, a mischievous gleam taking permanent residence as he brushed his fingers over her soft midnight-feathered wings.
The consequences started as light as a breath before he raised his hands to the ridges of her wings and heat and need began building little by little. “Look at you,” he purred as she clenched her thighs, his tone a bit too proud for her liking. “Coming undone for me.”
Though different in appearance from Illyrian wings, the tender joints and muscles were similar enough that Rhys had no trouble finding those mentioned sensitivities. His fingers slipped under her back, clamping down to put pressure on the spot where her right wing met her back. A deep chuckle left him as she moaned, locking her legs around his waist, only for the sound to be cut short as she ground against his cock, They’d save tender and teasing for another day too.
“Play later,” she growled. 
And while he didn’t release her wing, he did reach down between them, his thumb rubbing over her clit before he lined up against her, pushing in slowly. Until she was tight around him, not a sliver of space between their bodies. He slanted his mouth over hers again, raising that free hand to cup her breast. 
“Never enough. A thousand years with you wouldn’t be enough, Feyre.”
“You say that now, with only five behind us,” she joked, tracing over the whirls of ink she’d committed to memory by now. “You’ll be sick of me one day, wishing you could get me out of your head.”
“Never,” he said again, too far gone to even consider her teasing, apparently. She groaned as he rolled his hips in a steady rhythm, locking her legs tighter around him. “Never.”
“Rhys.” She was just on the verge of begging when a twist of his wrist sent her spiraling, biting into his neck to keep from screaming out. His pace only increased, granting her no recovery time as he drove into her harder with each thrust, the end of her first orgasm bleeding into a second as every unspoken feeling rolled down the bond between them as they so often did. She whimpered beneath him as she tried to master herself. 
“Give me one more, Feyre.”
“Rhys, please.”
“One more. You can do it, sweetheart.” 
She whined, but surrendered, letting another climax build as his teeth closed over her pulse. Come for me Feyre.
A sound more animal than anything left Rhys as he came inside of her, triggering her own release. He trailed soothing strokes over her skin as they came down together. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered. “My Feyre.”
She groaned as he slowly pulled out of her, barely finding the energy to vanish her wings before curling into her mate’s steady warmth. “Quite the welcome home,” she murmured.
“It’s my pleasure to serve, darling.” She huffed, but let him tuck her in closer. “Sleep, Feyre.”
Home in his arms, she did.
~~~~~
Taglist:
@lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone
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iamfruitie · 1 month
Text
Edged Over Coffee
This is part 2 of Mad drinking coffee when he shouldn’t have. Part 1: Link
----------
Mad landed on the bed and didn’t even have time to process that he was on the bed before Mare was on top of him. 
“What’s the safe word?” Mare asked. 
“Hawk,” Mad answered, feeling his heart race and blood rushing down at that look Mare was giving him. He was in trouble, and he never thought he’d be so excited for the results of that. 
“You were a bad boy, weren’t you?” Mare asked, sitting up a bit and holding his hands together.
“Y-Yeah,” Mad said after a thick swallow. 
“Do you know what happens to bad boys?” Mare slowly pulled his hands apart, a purple mist coming from them, and soon, a pair of purple handcuffs appeared, looking fairly solid but with an occasional wisp of magic disrupting the shape. Mad could only nod as he watched Mare wrap the magical handcuffs to his wrists and then lift his arms, pressing them to the wall and the cuffs sticking to the surface. “Remember the colors?” Mare’s question got another nod. “What color are you?”
“Green. Bright green.” Mad couldn’t hold back his excited giggle.
“This is a punishment, starlight. You’re not supposed to be happy about it.” Mare chuckled, slipping his hands under Mad’s shirt and lifting it. 
“You’re so hot.” Mad blurted out and Mare paused to laugh. 
“You’re making it hard to be stern.” Mare slipped off Mad’s shirt, the fabric going through the handcuffs like they weren’t there. 
“Whoops.” Mad giggled, tilting his head when Mare started kissing his neck, hands working on undoing his pants. “Jackie does say I have a habit of-” His comment turned into a sharp gasp when Mare bit down on his neck and roughly squeezed his ass with both hands. 
“Do not mention him right now. You are mine.” Mare nearly growled into Mad’s ear, tone deep and possessive. Mad’s legs would have given out if he wasn’t already lying down. 
“Y-Yes, yes sir.” Mad stammered. 
“Good~” Mare nipped at Mad’s ear before pulling away and tugging off his pants and boxers, tossing them aside and leaving Mad completely bare. “Now, the real fun can start.” He hummed as he rubbed Mad’s thighs. 
“The real fun?” Mad echoed, feeling his face go warm at the sight of Mare putting his head between his legs. 
“The real fun,” Mare confirmed before peppering a few kisses to Mad’s thighs. Mad bit his lip when Mare did the same to his thigh, sinking his teeth in and sucking, until he pulled his mouth away with a wet pop and grinned at the mark he made. “I love the fresh ones.” 
“M-Mare~” Mad was already getting impatient and squirmed, whining when Mare gripped his hips and forced him to be still. 
“Nuh-uh, you know better than that, starlight.” Mare had an almost evil grin as he spoke. “Bad boys have to take it and wait.” He dipped his head back down and continued his work, adding a few more bite marks and hickies to Mad’s thighs. Mare adored the little sounds Mad tried to hold back, clearly enjoying this just as much as he was. 
Eventually, Mare was satisfied with his ‘decorations’ and nipped at Mad’s hips before slowly dragging his tongue along the base of his cock, feeling himself shiver at Mad’s gasp and watching him try to pull his arms down, the handcuffs preventing him from doing so. 
Magical handcuffs were so much fun. Strong enough to force someone in place but made of a material that won’t cause any skin irritation. Best of both worlds. 
Mare winked and popped the head of Mad’s cock into his mouth, squeezing his hands when Mad tried moving his hips again. He decided to be a little nice and not comment on that, instead putting more of Mad into his mouth and humming. 
Mad tilted his head back and moaned. He swore Mare was using more magic with how good he felt around him, how just a simple hum and slight movement of his head got his toes curling. 
“Mare, Mare, I’m-” Mad’s warning turned into a whimper when Mad suddenly moved away, preventing him from cumming. “Mare!” 
“Punishment, darling, bad boys don’t get to cum quickly,” Mare stated, going up to his knees, wrapping his hand around Mad’s cock, and stroking him as he continued to speak. “I have a number in my head, and after we get to it then maybe I’ll let you cum.” 
“What the-What’s the number?” Mad asked between pants.
“How many cups of coffee did you drink?” Mare smirked when Mad paused, eyes widening. “How many?” He repeated as he moved his hand faster.
“F-Four.” Mad managed to get out after another moan.
“There’s your answer.” Mare watched Mad rock up into his hand, keeping an eye on his reactions. The way he clenched and relaxed his hands, the twitching of his stomach as he tried not to move too much, the softening of his eyes as he got closer and closer and-
“Mare!” Mad whined when he was stopped from cumming again. He knew this would happen two more times, but it still sucked. 
“I love it when you say my name.” Mare teased as he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube. He popped open the bottle and coated his fingers with some lube. “It almost makes me want to change my mind about your punishment.” Mare used his other hand to spread Mad’s legs further apart. “Almost.” He whispered as he pushed a finger into Mad. Mad tucked his face into his arm as he whined, already feeling himself getting a little desperate as Mare worked him open, pushing a second finger almost right away and brushing them against all of Mad’s favorite spots. 
“M-Mare, Mare please.” Mad softly pleaded, thinking that maybe if he looked at him with wide enough eyes and a big enough pout, he’d be allowed to skip the other two edgings and cum this time. 
“You are just too cute.” Mare praised, leaning over and catching Mad in a kiss, gently thrusting his fingers and swallowing the moans that came from Mad. Soon those moans got longer and lower and Mare caught the cue to pull his fingers away. Mad didn’t say anything this time, he just let out a loud whine. “Color?” 
“Gr-Green,” Mad said with a sniff. It was almost painful how hard he was, feeling an almost itching sensation in his body as it internally screamed for release, but he was okay, he could handle more…he wanted more.
“One more time, starlight. Be good for me one more time.” Mare spoke against Mad’s lips, kissing him once more as he pushed his fingers back in, being much harsher and practically fucking Mad with his hand. Mad didn’t have enough control of his body to kiss back properly, trying his best to but he was just a mess at it. Mare dipped his head and nipped at Mad’s neck, listening to Mad’s breathing and when he heard a hitch, he pulled his hand away. 
“Mare! Mare, please!” Mad broke, pulling on the cuffs and begging. “Please! Please! I’ll be-I’ll be a good boy! I promise I’ll be good!” 
“No more late-night coffees?” Mare asked as he went right back to fucking Mad with his fingers, sitting up enough to use his other hand to stroke Mad’s cock at the same pace. 
“No more-no more.” Mad agreed. “I want-I want to be your good boy.” 
“You already are, starlight. You’re my good boy~” Mare purred. “Does my good boy want to cum?” 
“Please, please, please!” Mad was so close, so close and he needed to finish this time. 
“Go on then, cum for me~” Mare let his tone drop, not shocked at how Mad was cumming almost on the spot. 
“Mare!” Mad’s voice cracked from how loud he screamed. He took in a sharp breath and his eyes rolled back, blinking away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. His whole body trembled as he felt another wave of pleasure hit him as he still rode that high. 
“Good boy.” Mare slowed his hands to a stop and then pulled them away. “You did so good, Mad.” He praised as he kissed the tears away. “Such a perfect boy.” 
“M-Mare.” Mad managed to get that out after a thick swallow. 
“How are you feeling?” Mare asked as he snapped his fingers, making the handcuffs disappear. He guided Mad’s arms to lower and he gently massaged them, helping relax the muscles. 
“Mare.” Mad swallowed again and looked at Mare with lust-blown eyes. “I need you…”
“I’m right here, love. I’m not going anywhere.” 
“I need you to fuck me.” Mad’s request was not what Mare was expecting but it definitely reminded him just how worked up he was himself. 
“Are you sure?”
“Make me cum again, music man.” 
“God, I love you,” Mare whispered and kissed Mad. 
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starlitangels · 1 year
Text
His Mama’s Boy
More Mama AJ Shaw being a good mama for her baby Davey! She’s mine now, Erik 1.5k words
Crying in the nursery, also audible over the baby monitor, jolted AJ out of her sleep. She took a deep breath as she woke up and slipped out of bed. Gabe stirred, but didn’t wake. Creeping quietly, AJ slid his bathrobe on over her pajamas from where it had been discarded on the armchair in the corner of the master bedroom and went to the baby’s room.
She opened the robe to feed David, sitting in the rocking chair and pushing it gently with the ball of her foot.
“It’s okay, Davey baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s here. Mama’s got you.” She bounced him lightly, soothing the crying, while she fed him.
In the past several months since he’d been born, his eyes had cleared up and become obviously the same color as Gabe’s. Vibrant, deep green. In all honesty, apart from having AJ’s darker hair, Davey looked a lot like Gabe already. Including his wider nose.
AJ hummed while her son fed, running the backs of her fingers down his soft cheeks, kissing his forehead.
Once he was done, she draped a burp cloth over her shoulder and adjusted him before patting at his back, still humming softly to herself. Sleep clung to her eyelids and occasionally she paused to yawn, but the warmth of her baby boy in her arms was always enough to keep her awake.
He seemed to calm down a little after being fed and burped, but was still fussy and squirmy.
Instead of simply humming, AJ sang the lullaby her mother used to sing to her as a kid. Soft enough to not wake Gabe, but loud enough for Davey to hear her. She held him close, making sure his ear was close to her heartbeat to soothe him as she kept gently bouncing him and rocking the chair. His wriggling slowed and stopped as he fell back to sleep. AJ made sure he was bundled nice and warm before putting him back in his crib. She smoothed his wisps of thick, dark hair off his forehead and kissed it.
“Sleep well, Davey,” she whispered. “Daddy will see you in a couple hours when it’s his turn to give you a bottle.” She reached for his pacifier and wiggled it against his mouth. He opened it immediately and let her slide it in, sucking on it once it was secure.
Smiling gently, she straightened up and went back to the master bedroom, slipping out of Gabe’s robe and putting it back on the armchair. She circled the bed and climbed back in as gently as she could so she wouldn’t wake her mate.
The second she was settled, Gabe rolled over and wrapped an arm around her. He pulled her across the mattress until she was snuggled up close to him. “Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” she replied.
“Davey okay?”
“Mmhmm.”
“He eat good?”
“He ate well, yes.”
“Heard you singing on the baby monitor.”
“It calms him down when he’s fussy. He doesn’t get fussy often, but when he does singing soothes him.”
Gabe hummed and buried his face in her neck and shoulder. “Why do you always take my robe with you when yours is right there?”
AJ nuzzled her nose into his soft hair. “His Core won’t activate for a long time, but he’s still a wolf. I want to make sure he knows both our scents together. So that he knows the smell of home. Of his Mama and Papa who love him and want to keep him safe.” She took a deep breath. “My dad was an alpha too. He didn’t get as much time at home as he wanted. If that happens to us, I just wanna make sure he knows you too since he’d be spending more time with me.”
Gabe grunted. “I’ll make time for both of you so he never sees me as absent. I love you both and I want to spend as much time with you and Davey as I possibly can.”
“I know, Gabe. And I hope it works out like that. I want to have you around as often as I can too.” She kissed his head. “I kinda like you and wanna keep you.”
He chuckled and kissed her collarbone. “You’re the best mate a man could ask for, AJ.”
“And you’re probably the only man who believes that,” she replied. “I cannot imagine any other man in this world, shifter or not, would wanna be my mate. My claws and teeth are too sharp for most of them.”
Gabe “Hmph”ed. “They’re all blind and stupid then. But I’m glad I got to be the lucky wolf.” He sighed. “Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll wake up next time Davey needs to be fed.”
AJ snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes with a sigh. Usually when she fell asleep, she’d found she preferred not to be touched, but she was so tired that Gabe’s steady warmth and firmness comforted her right into sleep. She took a deep breath and sighed long and slow as unconsciousness claimed her.
The smell of pancakes woke AJ up the next morning. downstairs, she could hear Gabe’s version of baby-talk. Which was essentially just him talking to Davey as though he was a full-grown person who understood everything Gabe was saying. “—told Marie a hundred times that I’m a grown man who’s older than she is by a good year but she still lectures me like she’s my mother. As if my own mother doesn’t lecture me enough,” he was saying. AJ grinned and got out of bed. Her purple bathrobe with its white polkadots was missing from it’s usual pile on the floor. Confused, she slid out of bed and went downstairs.
Gabe was standing in front of the griddle with Davey in a table-top bouncing bed off to the side on the counter. Gabe had put their son in a black onesie with Mama’s Boy in bold letters on the front and a pair of baby jeans.
Gabe had AJ’s bathrobe draped over his shoulders like a cape, but was otherwise in a Superman T-shirt and jeans. Apart from the blond hair, he fit the Superman build ridiculously well.
“Gabe, honey?” AJ asked.
“Yeah?”
AJ wrapped her arms around her mate from behind. “Why are there socks on Davey’s hands?”
Gabe fidgeted with the spatula in his hands. “I, uh… apparently didn’t swaddle him tight enough after I got up to feed him,” he said. “When I got up this morning he had a little scratch on his face where he’d scratched himself in his sleep. So I put socks on his hands to make sure he wouldn’t do it again while I made breakfast.”
AJ chuckled. “Fair enough,” she said. “So… why are you wearing my bathrobe?”
He shrugged. “So Davey knows both of our scents together or whatever sweet thing you said last night.”
That made AJ laugh. “You’re cute,” she said.
Letting him go, she went over to Davey so Gabe could focus on flipping the pancakes.
“Good morning, my sweet baby boy,” she greeted, kissing Davey’s forehead. He was busy realizing he had a tongue that could feel his lips but his eyes watched her intensely. She touched the pad of her thumb to the tiny, angry red scratch on his face. Closing her eyes, she focused on her magic.
There was a pulse of magic and the scratch on David’s face disappeared.
Gabe twisted to stare at her. “Since when do you know how to heal?”
She brushed her short hair out of her face. “Alpha’s daughter, remember? I took a couple healing classes when I was, like, twenty in order to better serve my pack; at the, uh, behest of my dad. And now I can use it to serve my mate, his pack, and my precious baby boy.” On those last three words, she kissed the spot on David’s face that had been scratched and brushed the tip of her nose back and forth across the tip of her son’s.”
Davey smiled.
AJ gasped quietly.
“What is it?”
“Gabe, he smiled at me.”
Gabe grinned. “Did he now? Good. I’ve been telling him he better smile at you first.” He took the pancakes off the griddle, unplugged it, and stepped over to wrap an arm around AJ’s waist. “Because his Mama works so hard to make sure her boy is happy and healthy so she should get the first smile.” He pressed a kiss to AJ’s temple. “Because his mama is the best mama a little wolf pup like him could ever ask for.”
AJ laughed and leaned against Gabe while watching Davey bob up and down in his bouncer. His big eyes flicked between both of his parents while he continued to explore the discovery of his tongue against his lips.
“Davey, has your dad been telling you to smile for me?” AJ asked with a big, dopey happy smile on her face.
Their son smiled again, this time spluttering a little in what almost sounded like laughter.
Gabe chuckled. “I think I picked the right onesie for him. He is definitely his Mama’s boy.”
Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @shellssstuff (is this good enough David for you?)
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artzychic27 · 11 months
Note
Since you did Tales of Terror, here’s a request.
Bart Simpson’s Dracula, or in this case Alix Kubdel’s Marcula.
“We come to the most terrifying painting in the Louvre,” Alix narrates. “To even gaze upon it is to go mad!” She points to a picture of the Mona Lisa. Adrien shrieks when he sees it.
“It’s horrible! What’s she smiling at?!”
Alix rolls her eyes as he runs away screaming. “We had a story to go with this painting, but it was far too intense. So we just threw something together with vampires. Enjoy!”
Lightning crashes as the title of the episode appears on the screen written in blood, Marcula.
While the rain pours down from the cloud-filled sky, the students of Mme. Bustier’s class are all gathered in their classroom looking down at their phones. Their brows furrowed with worry as they watch Nadja Chamack delivering some news.
“Another Parisian has been found dead,” she reports. Her skin is noticeably pale, but despite that, she keeps a calm disposition. “Drained of his blood with two teeth marks on his throat. The only thing found at the scene was a silver studded belt chain.” An image of said chain appears on their screens. “The police are baffled, and hope their investigation can come to and end soon. For more news, I’m Nadja Chamack, thank you for watching, and stay safe.”
With that, the live feed ends, but the students are still clearly on edge.
“Who would be sadistic enough to suck out someone’s blood?” Nino can’t help but ask.
“Oh, you won’t believe the American serial killers Zoé’s told me about,” Chloé shudders. “There’s plenty of freaks out there.”
“Yeah, like vampires,” Kim remarks, getting some skeptical looks. “Come on! Two teeth marks in the guy’s neck, his blood is gone, it was a vampire!” Marinette only pats him on the shoulder and says, “Sure.”
Ignoring that, Ivan turns to the resident genius. “Max, what do you think?”
“Well, I’d have to go with Chloé’s theory,” he answers, and the blonde preens a bit while Kim’s feigns a look of betrayal. “There are some messed up people in this world. Why, as of this moment, one of them could be right in this very school-”
“Hey, guys!”
The students all jump out of their seats by the sudden voice, only to calm down when they just find Nathaniel at the door. He awkwardly smiles as he wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction. “Sorry, didn’t mean to-“
“Ah, it’s fine,” Alix assures. “So, what’s up?” The redhead looks like he can barely contain himself.
“So, remember my long distance boyfriend from Transylvania?” Right on cue with his word, thunder and lightning crash outside.
“Wicked,” Juleka whispers.
“Oh, he’s real?” Chloé smirks. “I thought that was just a ploy to make you seem less pathetic.” Interrupting her taunting laughter is Marinette throwing a crumpled piece of paper at her. “Hey!”
“Proceed,” Marinette tells him.
“Well, Marc is real, Chloé, and he’s here permanently because his mom got a job at the blood bank that recently opened, so I want you all to meet him!” Rose can help but gush at how excited he looks. Alix gets up from her seat to sling an arm around him.
“Well, as long he’s treating you right, then I’m gonna like him. So, when does he get here?”
A voice cuts through the room, “Right about now.” This startled his classmates, but Nathaniel beams and immediately goes to hug the noirette standing at the doorway. “Hi, Nath,” he greets in a distinct Transylvanian accent.
“Hi, Rainbow.” Wasting no time, he seizes the taller boy by the front of the shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. “God, I’ve been waiting to do that.” The two are so wrapped up in each other that they almost forget about Nathaniel’s classmates until Adrien clears his throat, making the two look awkward as their faces heat up. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Marcula Anciel.”
Kim nearly chokes. “M-Marcula?”
“It’s a family name,” the green-eyed boy explained with a kind smile. “I go by Marc for short.”
Alix steps up to him. “Well, Marc, it’s nice to finally meet you; I’m Alix, Nath’s long time best friend.”
“Yes, he’s told me so much about you,” he beams. “Oh, real quick. Would someone mind inviting me in? My family’s quite big on manners, and I-”
“Say no more; come right in.” Accepting Marinette’s offer, Marc steps into the classroom, unaware of Kim’s skeptical look. “We’ve got about ten minutes before classes start. I’d say that gives us enough time to learn a bit about each other! First, I need to hear how you two met.” Before Marc could answer, she says, “Oh, you’ve got something on the corner of your mouth.” She points to a red stain on Marc’s face so he can wipe it off with his finger.
Nathaniel takes his hand with a worried expression. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“Don’t worry, love, it’s just ink from my pen.”
“Marc’s a writer,” Nathaniel says in a lovesick tone and giggles, staring at Marc as if he were some sort of deity. This startles a few as they’ve never seen the redhead look so happy… Or giggle. Though, it was nice seeing him look so happy.
Marc kisses his hand, and this action has quite a few of the girls smiling. “I’ve written my sweet nightshade several poems going nonstop about his beauty, compassion, his talents in the visual arts, so so many more qualities, it would take the whole day to name them all.”
No one heard what Nathaniel had to say, as his words were muffled when he hid his face in the fabric of Marc’s hoodie.
“Aaaw,” Rose, Sabrina, and Mylène coo.
He points to Marinette. “And to answer your question, Nathaniel and I met a year ago while my family and I were visiting the city. He looked so breathtaking under the moonlight.” By now, Kim was looking around to see if anyone, anyone was hearing what he was… Or seeing, because Marc’s fingers is just all over Nathaniel’s neck right now! “We’ve kept in touch ever since, and soon began dating.”
“And I have loved every second of it.” Nathaniel captures Marc’s lips for a kiss once again, only this one doesn’t last as long when the bell rings. “Damn,” he curses. “You just got here.”
“I know, but I need to leave.” The second he kisses Nathaniel’s cheek, a peal of thunder is heard followed by the lights in the room going out. When they come back on, Marc is nowhere to be found.
This scares his classmates a bit, but Nathaniel thinks nothing of it. “Isn’t he great?” The way he heads to his desk looks as if he’s walking on air.
“A little weird,” Alya whispers. “But Nath seems happy with this guy.”
Kim nods. “Yeah, they’d be a match made in heaven, if Arc weren’t a blood sucking creature of the night.” He hisses out a curse word when Alix reaches up to slap the back of his head. “What was that for?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“Marc is clearly a vampire,” he says as if it were so obvious. “The neck touching, blood banks, needing to be invited in, and dare I point out? He had a belt chain that is an exact match for the one found at the crime scene!” Alix shushes him.
“Do you want Nath to hear you?” The students all turn to see Nathaniel smiling at something on his phone, no doubt a text from Marc. “Marc’s a nice guy, and he makes Nath happy,” Alix continues. “Hell, if he were a vampire, I’d still approve as long as Nath’s smiling.”
“But vampires don’t exist,” Adrien reminds her.
She waves him off. “Yes, Adrien, vampires don’t exist. We know.”
“If he is, I wouldn’t mind being his undead servant,” Juleka murmurs.
Later at lunch hour, Kim is still staring at the new student suspiciously. Already, he’s become well acquainted with his new classmates. They’re hanging off his every word and Nathaniel is sitting with them, clinging to Marc’s arm… Well, if that doesn’t say ‘vampire mind tricks,’ he doesn’t know what does.
“Kim, I know what you’re thinking, and cut it out,” Max drones. “What would a vampire even come to France for?”
“Fresh blood because he sucked Transylvania dry?”
Not having an argument for that, Max pulls his friend to his usual table. “I’ll admit, Marc has his quirks, but so does everyone else.”
“He is literally drinking blood out of a bag.” He gestures toward Marc, who is doing just that.
“… He probably just recycles.”
“Oh my God.” Once they’re at the class’ table, Kim slams his head down and groans. “When he sucks you all dry, don’t come crying to me.”
Ivan rolls his eyes. “Again with that? Kim, there is no such thing as vampires.”
“Hey, guys.” The students all scream in fright when Marc and Nathaniel suddenly appear by their table. “Marc and I were talking, and since you didn’t really get to know him, he’d like to invite you over to his house tonight. His classmates are coming, too.”
“Well, I don’t know-“ Kim wheezes when Alix elbows him in the gut.
“We’d love too!”
“Count me in, dude.”
“I’ll be there!”
“Same!”
“Great, it’s decided,” Marc beams. “Oh, and be sure to wash your necks.”
Nino quirks an eyebrow. “Why?”
“… Transylvanian custom.”
“… Well, who are we to disregard your customs?” Kim sputters. “My neck’s gonna be so clean, you can eat off of it!”
‘Well, don’t tempt him!’
~Later that evening~
“… When Nath said ‘house,’ I wasn’t expecting… This.” Marinette gestures to the four story manor before her and her classmates. It rivaled even the Agreste’s mansion.The only thing that stood between them were the iron gates with a golden cursive A welded in the middle. “God, he’s modest.”
Alya smirks. “And Nath’s gonna be marrying money. Up top!” She and Marinette high five before she rings the doorbell. A low voice is heard on the speaker.
“Youuuu… Raaaang?”
“Yes, we’re here to see Marc… Hello?” Before Alya could ring the doorbell again, the gates open with a loud screech that seemed to wake up a few bats and ravens nestled in the trees so they’d fly off into the night. The students all make their way toward the manor. “Shit, Chloé’s gonna regret missing out on this.”
“Aaw, there’s a little bunny in that bush.” Rose points to the backside of the animal poking out of some shrubbery. Little did she know, the front end was caught in a bear trap.
They make it to the beautifully carved double doors, but before one of them could knock, a door slightly opens and out steps a young boy with silver eyes. In his hands, he holds a doll with a missing head.
Adrien blinks, confused, but then kneels down to his level. “Hey, little guy. Are you Marc’s brother?” Rather than answering out loud, be whispers something to the blonde before going back inside, leaving Adrien pale.
“What did he say?” Ivan asks.
“… I think he just predicted my death.” Before anyone could question that, the door opened the rest of the way, and the students were all immediately drawn to the rest of the manor. The exterior was nice, but the interior was absolutely stunning. It had a bit of a vintage gothic charm to it with black picture frames, two statues on either side of the staircase, a gorgeous chandelier, and more.
Nino lets out a low whistle. “Damn, I had no idea Marc lived in the lap of luxury.”
“It’s not much.”
Once again, they all scream when Marc (And Nathaniel) seem to appear out of thin air.
“Jesus Christ, man!” Nino yells while checking to make sure his heart is still beating. “We gotta put a bell on you!”
Laughing fondly, Marc replies, “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? Let me show you to the dining room. My classmates are already waiting.” He walks off with Nathaniel on his arm, but his shadow seems to linger, making rude gestures at the guests before following Marc and Nathaniel. Kim gulps.
“Guys, do you notice anything strange?
“Yeah, his hairdo looks like a bird’s nest,” Nino whispers.
Marc hollers back, “I heard that!”
“It was Kim!”
They all arrive at the dining room, and once everyone is seated, a tall man with sort of this thousand yard stare makes his way into the room with a cart of drinks colored a bright red. Kim, thinking it’s only punch is about to take a sip…
Ismael takes a swig of his drink. “Kinda coppery.”
… Only to have second thoughts and “accidentally” spill what he knows believes to be blood. And it seems Alix had the same idea. She shoots him a look that’s says, ‘Don’t you dare,’ but Kim is most definitely going to rub it in her face later that he was right. “Whoops! Alix and I have to go wash up.”
They both leave without another word and walk down a corridor.
“Okay, so what if you are right? If Marc was a vampire, we're not gonna stumble on his secret hiding place.” Right as Alix leans against the wall, her shoulder presses against a hidden button, activating some sort of mechanism that causes the wall to move to the side and reveal a staircase. After a beat of silence, they both go down some steps into a dark dungeon-like room. There are several coffins lying about.
Kim can’t resist. “Satisfied?”
“Big deal!” Alix huffs. “It's no different from Juleka’s dollhouse when we were six.”
Groaning, Kim pokes around the room for any sort of evidence. A log book of all the people whose blood Marc drank, empty blood bags, paintings of him with historical figures, a Twilight novel being used as a dart board... All he comes across is a book titled "Yes, I Am A Vampire" by Marcula Anciel.
“If this isn’t damning evidence, I don’t know what is!” He flips through a few pages. “Whoa, this is dated back centuries ago.”
While he reads, vampires rise up from the coffins, but Alix is the only one to notice, and tries to get his attention.
“Hold on, Alix… Hey, this is dated today. ‘Finally going to make Nathaniel mine?!’ We gotta get out-” A vampire suddenly rips the page. He screams, grabs Alix’s hand, and they run up the stairs. They would’ve made it if not for one of the vampires pulling Alix by her ankle and dragging her back down.
“ALIX!”
“Kim! Go on without…” Her voice trails off when she sees him going the rest of the way. “Well, don’t make such an effort!” The vampire who grabbed Alix restrains her as a bat flies in, morphing into Marc. “Oh, shit, Kim was right.”
Marc’s fangs extend, and he dives for Alix’s neck. Meanwhile, Kim runs back to the dining room to tell everyone what happened.
“Guys! Marc is a vampire and he has Alix!”
“Well, that’s ridiculous.”
“OH MY GOD!” Kim screams and grips at his chest when Marc suddenly appears behind him. With him is Alix, looking pale and with two holes in her neck.
“Alix is right here.”
In a trance like state, she says, “Hello, everyone. I missed you during my uneventful absence.”
Kim feels his eye starting to twitch. “Nath, you notice something off about her, right?”
The redhead’s not listening. His mind’s been reduced to pretty much nothing when Marc starts kissing up and down his arm.
Later, at the stroke of midnight, Kim is tossing and turning in his bed when he hears banging on his window. Reluctantly getting out of bed, he moves to his window and opens his curtains to find Alix and the Science Kids floating outside, all of them vampires. He screams.
“Kim, you gotta join us!” Lacey squeals. “It’s so cool! I can walk on walls, not get hurt, and I get to stay up all night drinking blood!”
Ismael adds, “And if you say you're a vampire, they give you a free small soda at the movies… You know, after you hypnotize them into giving you one.”
“No!” Kim backs away and tries to reach for a weapons. “I’m not joining you guys!”
“Dude,” Alix sighs. “It’s not like you have a choice here.” With that, she crashes through the window and tackles Kim to the ground. With her fangs extended, she’s about to bite his neck when Lê Teo and Kayode Ature barge in.
“Alix!” Kayode thunders. “We have told you many times not to bite- Wait. You’re a vampire!”
Kim’s grandmother, Tracy Ature barges into his bedroom “Quickly now! We have to kill the girl!” She brandishes a wooden stake and hammer.
“How do you know she's a vampire?” Teo questions.
“She's a vampire?” Tracy drops her weapons and runs off screaming, providing Alix a distraction to turn into a bat and escape.
Kayode, we have to do something,” Teo says. “Today she's drinking people's blood, tomorrow she could be smoking! I refuse to let that girl go down the wrong path!”
Kim gets up from where Alix tackled him. “Well, usually only way to get a vampire back to normal is to kill the head vampire. Marc!”
“Kill a teenager?!” Teo exclaims, aghast. “Do I dare give into everyone’s darkest fantasy?”
The family arrive at the manor. Teo, Kayode, and Kim walk down to the basement using the secret passageway Alix found earlier, and approach Marc’s coffin. Which was easy to find because it was fancier than the others and the lid was engraved with his initials. When Kim opens it, he lets out a breath of relief when he sees that Marc is asleep.
“You gotta drive the stake through his heart,” Kim reminds Kayode when he sees him looking hesitant.
After a moment, Kayode places the stake on Marc’s chest, readies the hammer, and, “Take that, you vile fiend!” He thunders, only for Kim to clear his throat.
“Uh, dad? That’s his neck.”
“What? Shit.” He pulls out the stake and tries again. “To hell with you!” This time, the stake goes through his shoulder. “Are you kidding me?!”
“Baby, you gotta wear your glasses,” Teo gently chastises.
“No! They make me look old!” He tries again, and finally, he drives the stake right into Marc’s heart. However, this (And not the other tries) wakes him up, screaming in agony. He quickly begins to lose consciousness and falls back into his coffin.
“And that takes care of that,” Kim says proudly.
The next morning at school, Kim walks into the classroom looking much more relaxed. Though, he does wonder how he’ll break the news to Nathaniel, but that’s a problem for the future.
“Morning everyone!” As he’s about to take his seat, a bat suddenly flies into the room and transforms into Adrien. “What the fuck?! Adrien’s a vampire?!”
Mylène shoots him a fanged grin. “We're all vampires.”
Horrified by that announcement, Kim starts to back away, but his classmates advance on him. “No! My dads and I killed Marc!”
“You have to kill the head vampire!” Juleka exclaims.
Kim gasps. “You're the head vampire?! It all makes sense!”
“Oh, I wish.”
“She’s not,” Nathaniel scoffs and stands atop his desk. “I'm the head vampire!” He bares his fangs and hisses.
“Nathaniel?! How?!”
He shrugs. “Hey, I’ve got hobbies besides art, you know.” His expression turns dark. “And this is for killing my boyfriend! Get him!” The students all fly at Kim, fangs extended while he screams when the screen suddenly freezes.
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indecentpause · 1 year
Text
Find the Word
tagged by @winterandwords to find eat, drink, breathe and sleep! thank!
cw: homophobia/homophobic slurs, brief mentions of child abuse, suggestive
from The Black & Blues:
eat:
“So, hey, I can’t stay for too long because I’ve got to run to the store because I haven’t eaten a green thing in like. A week. But I’ll get in touch with you once I talk to Austin and you talk to Danny and we can figure out what works best for everyone.”
“You can invite Sara, too,” you offer. “If you three don’t mind cramming onto one of the beds. Danny and I can sit on the other.”
Kris grins. After a moment, it softens to a curious smile, and he asks, “What’s going on with you two, anyway?”
You freeze. Heat starts to crawl up your neck and you beg it to stop before it gets high enough for Kris to see.
“He’s my best friend,” you say.
Kris hikes an eyebrow and purses his lips. “Anything else?”
Your smile must turn a little sad when you say, “No,” because Kris makes a sympathetic humming sound.
“But you want him to be.”
drink:
By the time you take a shower and change into some real clothes–what should you wear? you think, and you decide on a shirt and jeans without any rips because you don’t own anything nice nice–it’s 11:00 AM. You have two hours. You’re going to leave at noon just to be sure, and because you’re going to have to walk about a half mile, so you want to have time to catch your breath and make yourself look acceptable before Josselin gets there.
So for the hour in between, you pace, and vibrate, and shake, and try to breathe. Danny stays with you to try to offer you encouragement. He tries to distract you with music and movies and weird Japanese 7-11 and coffee drink commercials he downloaded, but you can’t focus on anything. But finally, finally, the clock hits noon.
You wipe your palms on your jeans, trying not to hyperventilate. How on earth could Josselin think you of all people are cool? You’re a nervous, traumatized, mostly in the closet mess.
breathe:
Josselin swings his hand out toward yours, but doesn’t touch it. It swings back and yours follows, weaving your fingers together. The show and its audience tonight are a lot smaller than yours was, and the restaurants are at their peak, so everyone’s inside eating. Maybe someone will come out back for a smoke break or take out some trash, but if they’re on the clock, hopefully they won’t be stupid enough to try anything.
“I know a guy who does mixing and mastering,” Josselin says. “If you don’t have someone in mind.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, right now we’re gonna ask Jaisyn, but if he can’t do it, I’ll definitely hit you up for his number.”
Josselin slides his hands under your arms and around your back, palms on your shoulder blades. “Just for that?” he teases.
You chuckle, and even though it’s hard, and even though it’s scary, and even though your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute, you want it more than anything, so you push him up against the wall and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you breathing.
sleep:
The studio is beautiful. The mics are gorgeous. You just want to touch and sing solo into one of them forever, but you don’t have time for that.
You get off to a rough start and have to restart the first song a couple of times, but once you get into it, it gets easier. After you get the first three songs down, you start to realize what Jaisyn meant by tired ears. It’s different in-studio, where you re-record bits and pieces so you can get the best sound in your final mix. Once you hit your fifth song, you get into the flow of things, but every time you have to restart, you can’t help but think it’s because your over-exhaustion must be making you let everyone down.
You can do this. You have to do this. You’ve worked so hard to get here.
So you muster up every drop of fury and energy and sound that’s been buried deep in your chest from the moment you heard that first Green Day album when you were eleven, every lonely day at school and every night you cried yourself to sleep and every time your mother hit you and your father called you a faggot, and you force it out, and fuck, you do it. And it sounds awesome, even if two of your fingers are bleeding and you feel like you’re going to collapse by the end.
tagging @kaiusvnoir @oh-no-another-idea @magic-is-something-we-create and @riftversus to find sing, yell, cry, and morning.
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arthyritis · 1 year
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A/N: so obsessed with Shells, she really brought back a lot of my creative motivation, so here have this lol
,
The teacher's low-heeled pumps tapped against the tile floor, her voice reading off names in a much-too-professional tone for a middle school teacher. Being it was the first day, the students could already tell how this was going to go; it was time for them to make their impressions for the year.
"Penny?"
Ginger hair tied into a braid swished in the front row. "Here!"
“Sanjay?”
A boy with blond hair kicked his desk in response, a chuckle in his voice as he responded, “Present.” The teacher paid him no mind aside from crossing his name off the list.
“Shelly?”
The class went silent, looking around as an olive-skinned girl didn’t say anything, but raised her hand with a disgruntled frown. “If I’m not mistaken, it says “Shells” on the attendance, doesn’t it, Miss?”
Tired amber eyes met the green speaking at the back of the class as the student folded her arms in annoyance. “My apologies. I assumed it was a mistype, and it won’t happen again. Are you Shells?”
“The one and only. Here. Present.”
“Thank you for the correction, then, Shells. Timothy?”
Shells turned her eyes away from the front of the class where the teacher resided to look over at her friend who was currently making sure she was all right. “Shells?” he asked to which she waved a hand haphazardly and turned her attention to a wall to her left. “Want to talk at recess?”
Shells’ gaze left the wall for a moment, a faint smile on her face when she noticed how worried P was. “I’m okay. We’ll talk.”
Denim-clad legs kicked out on the swing, making Shells rise into the air. P sat on the swing beside her, his legs crossed at the ankles and arms wrapped around the chains, picking idly at his fingers while Shells swung, gaining enough momentum to shake the entire swing set. "Ready to talk?" he mumbled.
"You'd think," Shells emphasised the word with a kick, "that teachers would have faith in the staff who handles the attendance, that they wouldn't make a mistake like that. Especially because I specifically made sure of it."
"Yeah, you'd think," P repeated, wiggling his legs to get more comfortable on the plastic swing seat. "I know it bothers you, but at least it seemed an honest mistake on the teacher's part."
Shells scoffed, but her irritation was aimed more generally than at her friend. "At least. Maybe I need to get the school to put a note for any substitutes and future teachers saying, "It's not a mistake, it's just her name!" Why do they always think it's a mistake, anyway?"
"Beats me." P broke eye contact with his fingers to look over at Shells. His eyes widened in surprise of something that really would never fail to surprise him; the way Shells’ red hair shone bright in the sunny outdoors, an almost unnatural tint to it that would go away within a few minutes indoors was almost mezmerising. He scratched the back of his neck carefully, pondering this for a minute before getting back on topic. “Do you think you should talk to someone about it?”
Shells sighed dramatically, scuffing her feet into the ground on the way down. Her hair fell in her face as she turned to look at P. “No, she was pretty nice about it. I don’t think there’ll be any more problems; I’ll do something about it if there is, though. Don’t worry your silly head.”
She reached over and shuffled P’s hair around, tearing a laugh from him as he tried to get away.
“All right, all right. Don’t be such a doofus.”
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persondoingstuff · 2 years
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Thorfinn x Einar x gn!reader
⚠️This is going into the farmland arc so there will be manga spoilers⚠️
We were sailing for 3 weeks before we briefly docked to gather more slaves and supplies. I was scared stiff, so panicked I could barely think. But I managed to hear something about how just last week a crazed man killed the king, then another person took a swing at Prince Canute’s life. But Prince Canute lived and took the throne to become King Canute.
I knew this was my chance to escape and run away, all I had to do was just run fast enough through the town to loose anyone who would chase me. I stood up and softly made my way to the edge of the ship as to not alert anyone.
I brought one foot on the railing, I was about to jump over and make a run for it when a hand came roughly down on my shoulder. I froze when I heard the captains voice “What are you doing brat? It’s not your stop yet.”
A cold sweat ran down the back of my neck, I turned to look at him with wide eyes, trying to hide the shake in my hands, “I want to get off here.” I tried to not let my voice waver. His grip only tightened, “I’m afraid I can’t let you off until Denmark.” His grip was starting to hurt, no doubt leaving a bruise.
I tried to shake his hand off my shoulder but he wouldn’t budge, “O-okay! I won’t get off until then! Now please let go!” Finally he let go and pushed me to the middle of the ship. I massaged my shoulder to try to seize the pain. I walked back to where I was sitting previously.
While more slaves boarded one in particular caught my attention, he was tall, had short red hair, and forest green eyes. He must have been in his early twenties, he had a good build, he was strong for sure.
We made eye contact, I could see sadness and pity in his face, I mean it is a sad sight to see a kid abord a slave boat. The red head made his way over to me and sat down next to me. We didn’t say anything for awhile, “They got kids now? What’s wrong with people?”
This man was the first person to talk to me in 3 weeks, everyone else on the boat didn’t acknowledge my presence so I was grateful that he was speaking to me. I guess people didn’t want to talk to a kid when their mood was low.
I introduced myself and he introduced himself as Einar. “So how’d you end up here kid?” He asked while we set sail for Jutland. “Vikings raided my village but my mother hid me under the floor. The next day Prince Canute and a Viking found me and helped me escape”
Einar face darkened when I said Viking but then he looked shocked, “You met king Canute?!” I just nodded, smiling at the memory of his kindnesses. “What was he like?” Einar now looked amazed, “He was really nice. He kind of looked like a woman with his long hair.”
Einar told me that he got sold into slavery because his family’s farm was also raided by Vikings and he was taken. He had been moved around a lot, from selling spot to selling spot.
We were sailing for about 5 weeks before we made it to Jutland. Over the last 5 weeks Einar and I had really gotten to know each other, despite him being almost 10 years older than me. He started to feel like the older brother I lost.
Also over the past few weeks I have given up all hope on getting free. The man who first let me on the bot kept a watchful eye on me, wouldn’t let me near the edge of the boat if we were close to land. And if I were to step off the boat it would be rope tied around my wrists.
We made it to Jutland and when we arrived I would have never guessed we were to be sold off soon. They had us get in the river and made sure we thoroughly cleaned ourselves, gave us a feast of food, put makeup on the women, and shaved the mens beards. Since I was a kid they just gave me an awkward look and sent me on my way. I wondered if this was what Canute went through on a daily basis?
My royal feeling was soon crushed when I realized that they were only making us look nice so we could be sold at be better price than others. Smart but I felt disrespected too.
The first buyer was a larger man who dressed in nice looking clothes. He walked up and down looking at all of us like he was figuring out which sheep he should eat for dinner. He spared me no second glance and I didn’t know if should be offended or thankful.
He finally settled on Einar. Had him lift his shirt, probably to see how strong he is, then he did something strange. He poked at Einar’s nipple, and stuck his hand down his pants. Einar let out a yelp and I felt my face get warm as I look away. In the end he didn’t even chose Einar.
We tried to run away 2 or 3 times before, since we weren’t bound to any ropes or chains at the time. We always thought we were successful until they would ride up on us sitting on their horses with a smug face.
They would always beat us to set an example. They didn’t care I was a kid, they would beat us until I couldn’t see out of my eyes from the swelling, the whipped us however many times they saw fit. My back would ache so bad I couldn’t move for days.
One day the man who took me came up to me and Einar and told us to follow him. When we got to the man who would potentially buy us, we were greeted with an old man, he was short, long mustache, and balding grey hair.
He took one look at us and shook his head disapproving. I had a small hope that he would buy us but that was crushed with just a shake of a head. “Their completely different! Their neither blonde nor a short young man!” He said to our seller.
Our seller just looked at us again and shrugged his shoulders and said he could still buy us. The old man continued to explain he wasn’t trying to buy a slave, he was trying to free one. What a lucky fellow that must be, whoever he is. I would kill for an that kind of chance.
Einar and I looked at each other and sighed, another false hope at freedom. When I looked forward again there was another older man looking at us, “If you can understand what I’m say open your mouths.”
We both opened our mouths and he examined them, then checked our body to see how much muscle we had. He asked us what farming experience we had. “I worked on a farmland in Northern England.” Einar answered. “I worked on a farm in my home village.” I lied straight through my teeth.
I had never planted a seed in my life. I had only helped my mother pick the vegetables. But I didn’t want to be separated from Einar, I didn’t want to go through the pain of losing someone again.
I was lucky because the man who I learned as Ketil ended up buying us for 4 cows. He took us on his boat and we sailed to his farm.
When we arrived he started talking to us about the farm. Somewhat showed us around. Told us we’d be a huge help, but from the looks of it he had enough slaves to harvest the fields. Finally we got to a giant forest.
“Thorfinn! It’s me!” He yelled into the abyss of the forest. It couldn’t be the same warrior Thorfinn who helped me escape my village. It couldn’t right?
But it was. Out of the forest came Thorfinn but he was different. He looked numb, like he had no reason to fight anymore. His hair was more grown out and he had stubble growing.
Ketil introduced us and Thorfinn’s eyes widened for a second when he saw me. But just as fast as the look came it disappeared, back to his numb look.
“Now let me tell you about the work you will do here. This forest belongs to me. I shall lend it to the three of of you.” He explained. “Lend…?” Einar quietly questioned.
“You will do everything from cultivating, growing, and harvesting the crops. And I shall buy your crops at an appropriate price. And if your harvest earns you more money than what I bought you for, you may buy back your freedom.” He finished. Both Einar and I froze, we could be free again? Just from planting crops?
All the hope I lost on getting free while sailing suddenly filled my system. I had a new drive to work as hard as I could.
“Thank you very much sir! I’ll give it my all!” Einar yelled jumping, ready to work. Ketil just laughed and introduced us to Patel, a man who bought back his freedom but chose to stay working on the farm.
Ketil told us to just watch and learn from Thorfinn for today. I was still in shock from learning that my savior was here, a shell of a man he used to be, and that I had a chance to be free again.
As we walked into the forest Einar was talking a lot, asked where he was from. “Iceland.” Even the way Thorfinn spoke was numb, like he didn’t care about anything.
We got to the spot where Thirfinn had been working and it looked like he had cleared out a huge chunk of land already. I was impressed, maybe we would be free before we knew it.
“So how much is there left to do?” I asked speaking up for the first time in a while. “This side.” I sent a questioning look. “See the river, everything from this side of the river.”
I looked around and saw how much trees there was left and felt overwhelmed. Thorfinn had barely scratched the surface of this forest, there was still an entire forest to clear. Maybe we wouldn’t be free before we knew it.
I looked around the area and saw two axes lodged in a tree, Einar and I looked at each other and nodded. Both of us having the same idea as we reached for axes. Thorfinn looked over to us with questioning eyes “Weren’t you supposed to just watch and learn today?”
We were still struggling to get the axes, especially me since these were made for grown men who have more strength than I do. “But if we help it’s one day closer to freedom!” I answered with new found energy finally getting the axe out of the tree.
I was determined to get free. I was going to cut these trees down, plant the hell out of the crops, sell them and be free again!
A/N: umm so there will be a part 3….. maybe. But part three will skip to the end of the farming arc and just summarize because I realized this arc takes so damn long. I’m not gonna lie it’ll be a hot minute before that gets uploaded. But thanks for reading!
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milirii · 2 years
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For the spring OTP prompts, may I have number 7 with Joonas and Joel pls! (platonic or romantic, your call <3)
I was struggling to come up with ideas for this one 😂 But then I browsed through UMK's instagram posts from last spring and one of them said that there was riding a bike in boys schedule on free days and I finally got an idea. So here you go, I hope you like it 🤗
7. Thrift shopping, words: 1167, can be either platonic or romantic
Nowadays free days were a rare luxury for Blind channel. Life was hectic and they have been pulled in different directions by journalists and interviewers and important label peoples all the spring after Darkside came out. And even more so when UMK was over and they had wiped the floor with other contestants. Every fiber of their bodies and souls and the very meaning of their life aimed only for one thing: to get their asses on Rotterdam and on the big stage of Ahoy-arena and in front of cameras and live audience. To make the statement and force people to look at them and acknowledge their existence. 
But all moving parts around them made Joel anxious. To have constantly 666 things in their To Do-list was great for giving him no time to think too much, but now when their semifinal was only a day away and everything was ready and only waiting for them to step up on the stage, the life had quieted down enough for Joel to hear the anxious and panicked whispering of his head. It made him nauseous and fidgety and fucked up his already non-existent sleeping schedule. 
But if life had given him a mean head that didn’t let him have the peaceful moment, it has also given him five best friends who picked up the pieces when Joel didn’t have strength to do so and even prevented some of the breakdowns before Joel had fully noticed them even approaching. 
And especially Joel was thankful for having one specific person in his life.
“We are going to ride a bike and look around the city!” Joonas dragged Joel behind him towards the door of the conference room where they had spent the morning, doing last checks over things. 
Tommi waved them off with: “Don’t do anything reckless, we need to be able to perform tomorrow”, before turning back to his phone. 
“We know and we won’t get the plague”, Joonas rolled his eyes and tugged Joel more insistently with him and all but pushed him out of the door. “We will be back in three hours, bye!”
Door closed behind them and now Joonas turned to look at Joel. “This door separates you from all the Eurovision stuff we have been doing all spring. All of it is behind this door and none of it is on this side. We are going to now spend our free three hours doing basic tourist things and you can’t think of this Eurovision circus because it doesn't exist in the rest of Rotterdam.” 
Joel just blinked in confusion and Joonas gave him a smile. “You are restless and anxious and we need to fix that before you break. Best I can offer you now is to take you away from this for a while, if you are up to it.”
“Fuck yes, please let’s get out of here!” Trust for Joonas to see everything, Joel thought. Joonas’ happy squeal and swift kiss pressed on his cheek made Joel already feel a bit better. 
****
Warm wind felt nice on his face when they rode their bikes down the streets. Together with Joonas’ continuous talking and observing the colorful buildings and green parks, Joel could almost feel how the extra stress melted away. When they stopped to buy some ice cream from the stall they found in one of the parks, he didn’t feel anymore like his esophagus was about to wrap itself around his neck and throttle him. Breathing felt so nice without the heavy weight of the hoped breakthrough on his chest. 
“We need to get some souvenirs, don’t you think?” Joonas suddenly asked while he licked his ice cream and walked his bike next to Joel. 
“We can’t go anywhere, so just take a picture of your ice cream and consider it done.” Joel shrugged and continued to enjoy his own ice cream cone. 
“What if we twist the rules a little bit?” 
“How?” Joel sighed exasperated. “It feels nice to pretend we are not performing tomorrow in front of hundreds of thousands of people, but we can’t ignore the fact that we actually are performing tomorrow and we can’t get ourselves sick. This is too important, Joonas.” 
“I know! But there is an open-air flea market and I kinda want to go and see what we could find. There aren't too many people in there and we can keep our distance and use face masks.” 
Joonas’ pleading voice made Joel consider. Joonas loved thrift shops and Joel had sometimes made good findings too. Like old vinyls with some classic songs. Once he had rummaged through a huge box of C-cassettes just to piss off Tommi and found a record of Mäntypistiäinen, which he had later given Tommi as a birthday gift. No one had a proper player to actually listen to it, but it was considered a treasure anyway. Sometimes he found other cool stuff, like hockey cards or jewelleries and one time he had even ran into a hockey jersey in Kärppä-colors and Lasse Kukkonen’s number.  
So yeah, he actually wanted to twist the rules with Joonas a little and go visit the outdoors thrift shop. 
“Let’s go then!”
****
Circling among the tables full of books, clothes, CD’s and other knick-knacks was the final thing needed to pull Joel out of his Eurovision anxiety. It felt so normal to walk through the sales area where others had little to no idea who they were. No one was expecting anything from him. It felt refreshing. 
He didn’t even buy anything. Nothing really caught his eyes and when Joonas drifted away to inspect something he had considered interesting and came back with a smooth rock, Joel decided to just grab Joonas’ arm and drag him away from the place. It was time to get back to the hotel anyway.  
“What are you going to do with it? You could have just taken a rock from the ground?” Joel asked when they returned the rented bikes. 
“You’ll see.” Joonas smirked at him.
****
Flight from Rotterdam to Finland with no sleep and terrible hangover wasn’t the best thing Joel had experienced. But in all it’s horriblesness, Joel knew that the flight was not only the end of this mad Eurovision wringer, it was foremost the flight that got them towards the dreams that had kept them going. The breakthrough happened and now they needed to make sure the wave would take them as far as possible and that they would stay on the surface. 
Joonas was sleeping against his shoulder and snoring lightly. Joel would have liked to take advantage of the couple of hours they would be on air and close his eyes, but he was still too high on the adrenaline. 
He brushed his finger on the surface of the rock Joonas had given him before boarding. There was written: “Time to make a hundred million people listen”
Yes it was. Joel smiled and turned to press a kiss on Joonas’ hair.
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strapskinkstories · 5 months
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Strappys visit to Penelope's house turns into a horrible eternal leathery hell
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Written with @sissyfen (wanna RP with me? message me and lets do it!)
Penelope: You receive an invite to an exclusive party from someone you’ve seen around town, though never actually spoken to. How she knew where you lived you have no idea, but you do know that you have always been captivated by her. Every day she walks past you in the street, a seemingly unassuming old lady, though she doesn’t seem to bother her. What most caught your eye however is her clothes, a thick, black leather jacket, a long black leather dress and vintage leather boots, all well worn and supple, swishing and creaking slightly as she walks. She had almost caught you looking multiple times, but every time she turned to face you, you turned away, just in time, or so you thought.
“I’ve seen your gaze,” the letter began. “If you wanted a closer look all these years, you only needed to ask. I live in the mansion outside of town. Arrive by 2100 tonight and I would be happy to give you a closer inspection. I promise you, the experience will leave you breathless and be like nothing you have ever experienced”
“Penelope.”
Strappy: I arrive to her mansion wearing a three piece suit. I stand at the gate and ring the intercom.
Penelope: It takes a few minutes, but eventually the door swings open, allowing you to see into the house. It is dark, with the smell of old leather hitting you instantly, though your eyes are drawn to me, standing in the middle of the entrance hall in my leather dress and jacket
“Come in, close the door.”
Strappy: I close the oversized creaking door. It had to be 250 years old. Walking into the house was like stepping back in time, the smell of cigar smoke was everywhere, green walls and large shining wood ornaments and chandeliers above. A closet across the room gave off a strong leathery smell. The door makes a loud click. I am startled and say “What happened. Are we locked in?!” I step closer to Penelope almost close enough to touch her and I do. I wrap my arms around her out of fear and also wanting to get closer to her very shiny jacket and dress. As I wrap my arms around her I smell a toxic smell of sweaty leather. I try to pull away but my hands won’t move. My mind somehow has fallen under control of her leather outfit. I whimper and pull away with my head as much as I can saying “How, why are my arms stuck to your jacket. The back of your neck and dress smell nasty, I can barely breathe back here, just wanted to hug you.” I start to breathe heavier as the air becomes hotter, more humid, less breathable, the odors intensifying.
Penelope: “Hmmmm, usually this takes at least a few minutes, but you made this so easy,” I purr, wrapping my arms around you and pulling you tighter. The breath is forced from your chest as I crush you with far more strength than an old lady should have been able to manage
“I have watched you for so long, my dear. So enthralled with my leather, so desperate to smell it, to taste it. I know your type. You will do nicely.”
With that I put my hand on the back of your head, roughly forcing it into the leather of my armpit. The old leather is disgusting, never having been washed since the day I brought it all those years ago. 
“Does it smell as good as you imagined, leather slave?” I cackle, making sure the rank leather fills your mouth and nose completely
Strappy: I suck on Penelope’s leather covered armpit. The soft old leather filling my mouth and nostril with a toxic taste I’ve never tasted before. It could only be described as salty rotting fish mixed with leather and cheese. Whatever it could be described as made me gag and cry as she squeezed my head harder and harder. I began to pull at her muscular arm wondering how the hell she is doing this, wondering if she will let go, I’m having trouble getting any air, what tiny breaths I can get are tainted in the smell of her 200 year old jacket. The jacket I had stared at for so long. The jacket I had as my background on my phone which Penelope saw as I walked in, I squirmed weakly beneath her armpit time seemingly has slowed to a standstill. It seems like an eternity beneath her sticky humid rancid sticky leather covered armpit. I am confused as to how I have not blacked out. Maybe it hasn’t been much time at all. Maybe she’s cursing me. Maybe she’s a witch. All I can do is weakly writhe under her arm, my cock starting to get hard from the smothering stinky leather, I am embarrassed as I feel a hard on coming from being smothered in the armpit of a 200 year old jacket on a 80 year old woman. How I found myself in Penelope’s house is baffling, we actually met in the middle of the road, I had hit the side of her car and her butler and she and I had a nice coffee and settled up the accident, it was just some paint and I had revealed to Penelope that I love leather. She was wearing another jacket at the time, she invited me to her estate to play in leather and in a matter of minutes the simple act of greeting one another became a horrible armpit smothering that I began wondering “Am I going to make it out from under this crazy woman’s armpit alive? Am I going to survive the night? How long is she going to hold me as her hostage in this gross smelling house and with this jacket!”
Penelope: I keep holding you until I finally feel you start to weaken, before pulling your face away from my jacket and allowing you to get one single breath. As you try for a second, I quickly pull the jacket off and wrap it round your head, pushing you to the floor as I do.
“I do hope you told someone where you were coming, but I doubt it, slaves like you never think to take precautions when invited over by strangers women.”
I laugh, pulling the jacket around your face taught, your head now buried deep within one of the arms. The smell is even worse than before, mixed with a strange sludge like material. 
“I suppose you’re wondering why I lured you here, my little slave,” I begin, roughly grabbing your arms and binding them together with strips of leather, before doing the same with your legs.
“You see, I’ve been doing this for a long time. A very, long time. I am over 2000 years old you know, and the secret? The suffering of pathetic slaves like you!”
I grab your legs and pull you further into the house, laughing as I hear you gasping against the disgusting leather.
“I hope you enjoy this, slave, because today is the first day of the rest of your life! That sludge you are currently smothering in is an elixir of my own making, it will make you immortal! All the better for me to feed of your suffering alongside the hundreds of others I’ve trapped!”
Strappy: I make gurgling cries as I swallow this strange toxic sludge. It’s thick and gluey, it tastes sweet salty sweaty and leathery. It’s instantly mind breaking. Taking control of my mind it makes me eager to suck it down. Eager to suck the stinking jacket tight to my face and into my mouth. I think to myself “2000 year old woman. The rumors are true. Fuck. What’s happening!” I squirt in my pants losing control of my orgasms. Now I’m actually *turned on* by Penelope’s rancid jacket. Maybe it isn’t the jacket, maybe it’s purely the suffocation. My mind races, I try to think of how I could have been turned on. There’s no way. I become super embarrassed knowing I just orgasmed breathing a jacket that is supposedly 200 years old, on a 2000 year old woman! The dragging stops in a room with very thick soft padded flooring. I lay there after being dragged to an elevator and up three floors and through many halls exhausted, barely conscious. Penelope can see the leather jacket clinging to my face and bulging as I rebreathe the hot toxic air inside
Penelope: “You know, I could watch you squirm for hours,” I laugh, dropping you on the floor. “But it is always much more fun watching you squirm after I show you your final resting place!”
I reach down and peel the jacket off your face. It is difficult, the sludge acting almost like a glue, but eventually I free your face again, allowing you to look around the room I have dragged you to. 
Unlike downstairs, there is nothing normal about this room, the walls made out of leather panels, what little light there is streaming in from small windows set in the ceiling high above. It is the floor that truly draws your attention however; hundreds of coffin-like alcoves set flush into the surface. Beneath each of the closed lids can be heard a faith thudding or moaning sound, rising above the pungent stench of leather and sweat. I let you get a good look around, your eyes finally seeing that I have dragged you in front of the one open coffin in the room.
“Get a good look, a good smell,” I breath deeply, savoring the stench that you humans find so repugnant. “You will be spending the rest of eternity in there! You think this is my only jacket? I have so many leather clothes that I can spare some on treating you to the most tortuous existence imaginable!”
Strappy: “Come on Penelope! I only came here expecting some leather fun, not to DIE!!!” I run toward the door, it’s sealed shut. I run toward Penelope and grab onto her, suddenly my mind melts again as soon as my face touches her dress. I rub my face into her breasts squeezing some of that sweaty slime onto my nose and mouth. I grab Penelope and drag her down to the ground into the open coffin like box. I land in the box with Penelope on top of me my arms wrapped around her. I huff her sweaty dress and orgasm again in my pants. In a muffled voice I say “Gah your dress smells so horny yet so gross!”
Penelope: “You best get used to it,” I growl as I push myself off you, the dress peeling away from my form as I stand upright, revealing the skin tight rubber that I wore beneath it. 
With a foot, I cruelly grind the massive leather dress into your face, making sure it’s wrapped fully around your head, leaving you gasping against it’s disgusting sweaty surface. 
Not moving my foot, I press a button on a small control pad, a barrel dropping down from the ceiling and hovering just next to your tomb.
“Well leather slut, you said you wanted to come and play in my leather! Now you can play in it forever!”
With that, I upend the barrel, pouring a thick glue into the hole with you, covering the dress and your body entirely. Even as the glue sets, I begin to produce more leather clothes, each items I have worn for decades at least and have never once been washed. I keep crushing more and more in, filling your coffin completely before continuing on, crushing down harder and harder. 
True to my word, you are truly immortal now, your body feeling the pain of being crushed, your lungs crying out for oxygen but getting only disgusting leather sweat instead.
Finally, pleased with your final resting place, I force the coffin shut, compacting you even further as the glue finally sets. The door to the coffin is specially designed, it’s hinges and seal magically disappearing once the lid clicks shut, while it’s surface is impenetrable to any known damage. 
With you finally sealed away, I let out a sigh of pure ecstasy, collapsing to the floor as the exquisite agony and torture you are being subjected to fuels my powers. 
You came hoping to get a mere taste of my leather for an afternoon, but now you will spend an eternity in perpetual torment, thousands of years passing as your world is naught but leather, sweat and crushing darkness!
Strappy: I lay there quickly coming to terms with my fate, having not told anyone, having no family left, I have in one move disappeared off the map, maybe a friend of mine will miss me, but more than likely I'll just be written off as disappeared missing. I am flattened to total immobility beneath the warm sludgy leather, all I can do is take tiny breaths of a hot toxic smell, it stunk of leather and salty old lady sweat. Orgasms were inevitable and often. Time slowed to a standstill, all I knew in the world at this point was darkness, the warm sticky feel taste and smell of sweaty old dirty leather. This is how I will suffer forever.
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newpathwrites · 5 months
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Series Masterlist Main Masterlist
II. Sorgan
“How did you find this place?”
Din laughed, “Lucky accident.” He looked at Omera and Winta chatting at the table. “Greatest accident of my life, in fact.”
Summary: Jai experiences life on Sorgan and considers their options, and Din and Omera have a long overdue discussion about the nature of their arrangement.
Warnings: Discussion of religious trauma, mildly implied sexual references.
Read on AO3
————————————————————————
When the ship touched down in the well-worn clearing, Jai felt a strange mix of nerves and overwhelming curiosity.  How friendly were these people, really?  And why was Din apparently so happy here?
Initially, Jai might have thought that this area was uninhabited, the only evidence of anyone having been here Din’s own worn-down trail.  But eventually they came to another clearing, giving way to a small village dotted with huts and small cabins around a central area of what looked like farming ponds.
As they approached, villagers in brightly colored clothing started looking their way, shouting greetings to Din by name .  And as they came into the village proper, many approached, shaking Din’s hand like old friends, casually asking about the flight in as if they had been expecting him, and offering Jai a handshake and warm welcome.  Not one requested their name.
Children of all ages ran up to Din, asking a flurry of questions about his travels, telling him the recent happenings of the village in dramatic, childlike fashion, and hanging from his limbs as if he wasn’t the heavily armed, faceless warrior that he was.  Or was he?   Jai wasn’t sure anymore.
“DIN!”  Jai turned toward the voice - a girl, maybe a few years younger than themself, shouting from across the pond.  She took off running, ultimately jumping up to wrap her arms around Din, who leaned forward and pulled her tightly into a warm hug.
“Winta…” he chuckled.  “I missed you, too.  Did Grogu behave himself while I was gone?”  Okay, there was some sort of relationship here.
She smiled.  “Yeah, he was perfect!  Well… mostly.”  Din tilted his head questioningly, but the girl had already moved on, turning to face Jai and offering her hand.  “Hi!  I’m Winta.  Don’t worry, I won’t ask your name.  Are you hungry?  Mama’s cooking us all a big meal.  Come on, I’ll bring you to our cabin.”  
And with that, she took Jai’s gloved hand and all but dragged them around the pond, introducing them to everyone they passed and chatting endlessly about the village.  Everyone greeted Jai warmly, never asking for their name.  So Din was being serious.  These people really were Mando-friendly.  Jai’d never experienced anything like this - complete acceptance by outsiders.  No wonder Din liked it here.
But nothing was more shocking than what happened when they entered Winta and her mother’s cabin.
First, a tiny, green creature literally flew across the room, wrapping its entire body around Din’s helmet, eyes in line with his visor.  Din grabbed at the creature’s limbs, trying to pull them off his head, chuckling as he spoke with great tenderness.  “Grogu… I missed you, ad’ika.  I hope you’ve been good for Omera.”
Second, as Din successfully pulled what Jai now realized was his foundling from his helmet and deposited him safely into the crook of his elbow, a dark-haired woman approached, slipping an arm around Din’s neck as his free hand gripped her waist, and brought her forehead briefly to his visor in a gesture that did not appear entirely platonic.
“You’re late…” she said kindly as she pulled away, turning toward Jai.  “But you’ve made up for it with company.  Hi, I’m Omera.  Welcome.”  She gripped Jai’s wrist loosely.  “You tell me if you need anything, alright?  I’ve set up a bed for you in the barn for privacy, and we’ve got enough food to feed the entire village!”
Stars, these had to be the kindest people Jai had ever met.  “Nice to meet you, Omera.  Thank you all for allowing me to stay here.”
She waved them off as she turned back toward the kitchen area.  “Of course.  Any friend of Din’s is a friend of ours.”
And then finally, the most shocking occurrence of all.  Din turned toward Jai as he lowered the green child to the floor and whispered, “Hey, nobody expects you to take off the helmet or the armor, okay?”  Jai was puzzled.  These people clearly understood Mandalorian custom, so why would they?  This should be a non-issue.
Jai soon had their answer as Din barricaded the cabin door, pulled off his helmet, and began methodically removing the armor, ultimately left in the plain black shirt and pants he wore under the flight suit.  And then he was just a man… a regular-looking, middle-aged man.  Nobody in the small dwelling batted an eyelash at this behavior… except Jai, who was agape behind their visor as they observed Din’s unexpected transformation.
While Jai stood stock-still and shocked in their confusion, Din’s hand landed on their shoulder.  “You alright, kid?  I probably should have given you more warning.”
Jai turned toward him in a daze, studying the man’s newly revealed face like it might reveal some answers.  “I’m… shocked… is all… I wasn’t expecting that…”
Din turned toward them and spoke quietly to keep the conversation private.  “Like I said, nobody here expects anything from you.  But this is a safe place.  Your name and the knowledge of your face would never leave this cabin - if you ever chose to share them.  Okay?”
Jai nodded after some hesitation.  “Yeah, okay.  I understand.”
Omera swooped in then, wrapping an arm around Din’s waist as she questioned Jai.  “Would you prefer to eat in the barn, friend, or are you comfortable eating here with us and just lifting your helmet?  We know the drill - no looking.”  She winked.  “Just watch out for the little one.”
“Your choice… no pressure…” Din added, recognizing that such a decision was not simple, especially at a moment’s notice.
“Uhmmm… I’ll stay here with you… thank you,” they finally responded, much to Winta’s delight, excited to spend time with a new friend.  Jai was nervous, having never done such a thing in the presence of outsiders before, but Din was the only thing keeping them above water right now, and they were nervous to be separated from him around so many strangers, however kind they appeared to be.
——————————
Dinner was quite pleasant, actually.  There were no invasive questions about Jai’s past or their status as a Mandalorian.  Winta spoke endlessly, determined to enjoy conversation with someone closer to her own age, even if it was rather one-sided, Jai exceedingly self-conscious in this new and unfamiliar situation.  
Eventually, Winta realized that Jai had not eaten at all and suddenly cut herself off mid-sentence, saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry - I’ve been looking at you this entire time.  I’ll keep Grogu distracted if you want to take a few minutes to eat.”  She took Grogu from the table and sat to play with him on the floor behind them so that there was no chance of sneaking a peek, while Din and Omera turned to face each other in quiet conversation, pointedly keeping their gazes trained away from Jai.  Finally, the teenager lifted their helmet slightly to take a bite as the two adults grinned at each other conspiratorially.
When Winta returned to her seat, having exhausted every topic she could think of to talk about, an awkward silence descended upon the table.  Omera tapped Din’s foot with her own and gestured for him to say something.  He took a moment, thinking about Jai as a child in the covert and what they had been like back then.  What could they possibly have in common with Winta?  Probably nothing, honestly.  But then it came to him…
Din cleared his throat to get their attention.  “So Winta, have you learned any new card games?  Maybe the two of you could play something after we clean up.”
This brought Jai to attention.  They had a penchant for card games - had loved them since they were quite young.  Some of the adults in the covert - if memory served, Din was one of them - would even let them play for real sometimes, allowing them to win a few credits or small trinkets.  Finally, Jai was induced to speak, turning toward Winta.  “What card games do you play?”
And that was all it took.  Winta and Jai delved into endless conversation about their favorite games, preferred playing cards, and all manner of related topics.  Grogu, not wanting to be left out, sat on the table between the two young people, looking back and forth, nodding along and pretending to take part in the conversation.  Stars, this was so nice , and for a moment, Jai forgot all of their troubles.
As Jai became more and more animated, Omera turned toward Din with a smile and whispered, “Nice work, sweetheart,” rewarded with an uncharacteristic blush on the typically stoic man’s face.
When dinner was over, Din insisted that he and Jai would clean up, giving them a chance to talk somewhat privately for a few minutes.
“How are you feeling?  Are you comfortable here?” Din questioned quietly as they worked.
Jai nodded.  “Yeah, I’m good.  Omera and Winta are really wonderful.  I’ve never met people like them before.”
Din chuckled.  “Yes, they certainly are, and I hadn’t, either.  But everyone in this village has always welcomed me with open arms.  And they never questioned my creed or ridiculed our ways.”
Jai looked down for a minute before responding quietly, “I feel more comfortable being a Mandalorian here than I did in our own covert.  Isn’t that strange?”
“I know exactly what you mean, Jai.  I’ve always felt the same.  There’s no expectation or pressure here - like it’s all just your own choice for once.”
Jai paused, nervous to share one more fear that they weren’t sure Din could really understand.  “Nobody has asked me my gender.  Do you think… everyone here would accept me if they knew I don’t have one?  The covert always did, but outsiders…”
Din put a hand on their arm.  “Jai, just be yourself, okay?  I promise that you don’t have to worry about that here.  And I’m sorry that you’ve had to worry about it anywhere.”
“How did you find this place?”
Din laughed, “Lucky accident.”  He looked at Omera and Winta chatting at the table.  “Greatest accident of my life, in fact.”
——————————
The remainder of the evening was quiet.  Jai and Winta sat on the floor, teaching each other new card games, while Din and Omera curled up comfortably on a rug in the corner, Din’s arm wrapped around her while her head rested on his shoulder and Grogu snoozed in her lap, whispering to each other quietly.  Once the sleeping baby was put to bed, Winta resolved that this would have to be their last game of cards.  And it was at that moment that Jai realized the two adults were nowhere to be found.  
It was pitch black outside now, so Jai switched on the thermal setting to ensure the couple hadn’t gone too far from the dwelling, worried about being left alone with a toddler, though Winta could certainly handle it.  Jai chuckled and switched it back off quickly.  They were just outside the cabin door, kissing and embracing in a moment of privacy away from the children’s prying eyes.  Ah , so that was the nature of their relationship, then.
Din had said he was happy, and Jai was starting to understand why.  This village had become his home and these people his family.  And he allowed them certain parts of himself - his name, his face, his identity - that were normally forbidden by the creed, while still observing custom outside of this sacred space.  As he had told Jai on the way here, he had found his own way to be a Mandalorian, and Jai had to admit, this ‘way’ was a lot better, and a lot kinder, than the one they’d been raised in.  Jai wasn’t sure they wanted exactly this kind of life or that type of relationship in their future, but to have options - that was something they’d never dreamed was possible for a Mandalorian.  Din Djarin was onto something here.
Finally, the others went to bed, Din whispering something quietly in Omera’s ear as she nodded in understanding before walking into the bedroom and shutting the door softly behind her.
“Jai,” Din called quietly to avoid waking the children.  “Are you up for talking?  I understand if you’d rather get a good night’s sleep first.”
“Sure, we can talk… I have a lot of questions…”
Din laughed, gesturing for Jai to join him at the table.  “I’m sure you do.  What do you want to know?”
There was so much Jai wanted to know.  Where to start?  “Do you live here - like all the time?”
Din smiled.  “I do consider this home - or the place I return to, at least.  I still run missions for friends and work a lot with the other tribe I told you about. But to be honest, lately, I spend more of my time in Sorgan than not.”
“It must be nice, having a real home, out in the open - not hiding all the time.”  Jai couldn’t keep the sadness from their voice.
Din replied quickly.  “Yeah, it is nice.  Deciding to stay here was one part of finding my own way - no covert, no hiding.”
Jai tried to get their jumbled thoughts in order before jumping in to what they really wanted to know.  “What do you see as my options?”
Din started, organizing his own thoughts.  “I think there’s three possibilities.  One, I can introduce you to the other tribe on Trask, and you can join them.  They don’t follow the strict creed and will accept you whether you wear the helmet or not.  Two, you give up the way completely and live a normal life somewhere - here or wherever you choose.  I would help you.  Three, you find the middle road as I have - follow your own way, rather than aligning yourself with a single tribe.”
How were just three options so overwhelming to think about?  Jai decided to consider one at a time.  “Can you tell me about this other tribe?  I didn’t know there were others.  I always thought we were the only ones left.”
Din shook his head.  “I didn’t know, either.  It turns out the armorer was not entirely truthful all these years.  When I met them, the Nite Owls, they immediately shared their names and took off their helmets - told me our tribe was a cult.  They live much more normal lives and yet are still Mandalorian.  Their leader, Bo-Katan Kryze, once ruled Mandalore, and she has plans to retake the planet.”
This was… confusing information… But after Jai’s recent experience with the armorer and Paz, it felt true - viewed from the outside, their tribe did behave like a cult.  Really, Din and Jai were just two of its unwitting victims, foundlings raised from childhood to believe sacrificing their identity was vital, and cast out when they did not perfectly conform despite dedicating their entire lives to its rigid values.
“Why haven’t you joined them?”
Din sighed.  “Bo-Katan is a very single-minded woman.  She’s devoted her life to re-establishing Mandalore, but I really don’t think it’s possible.  And Grogu is my priority now, anyway.  I’m not interested in tying myself to another idealistic tribe.  I’m sorry to be so negative about it.  I don’t want to unduly influence you.”
Jai shook their head.  “No, I want to know why you feel that way.  You were once more devout than anyone.  Why has that changed?”
Din’s expression became a mixture of anger and sadness.  “Jai, we gave up so much to follow ‘the way’.  Secrecy was supposed to keep us alive.  But giving up our names and faces and the chance to live normal lives, training to be deadly warriors but then hiding ourselves away in the sewers - what good did those sacrifices do us?  It didn’t save us, did it?  You and me, Paz and the armorer - we’re all that’s left.  And yet they still refuse to see the error of their ways, even with the tribe reduced now to only two members.”
Jai was thoughtful.  “So why not give it up entirely, live like a regular man here in Sorgan?”
“Because, unfortunately, I don’t know how to be anything else.  I still feel called to assist Bo-Katan and maintain the resol’nare in the ways I can.  But Jai, you’re still young.  You can be anything you want.”
To be honest, Jai wasn’t sure what they wanted, except to be free of the guilt associated with breaking their creed.  The last few years had been spent focused on survival, and very little thought was devoted to future desires, not that Mandalorians were really meant to have desires at all.
“Din, can I ask you a personal question… about you and Omera?”  Din looked surprised at Jai’s boldness but gestured for them to continue.  “If you don’t mind me asking… How did you become… what you are?”
Din smiled.  “When I was hiding out here with Grogu, we stayed several weeks before the hunters caught up with us.  This place had been peaceful and welcoming, so once I thought Grogu was safe, I came back to visit often, take a rest and let the kid be a kid for a while.  We always stayed in the barn, and I spent a lot of time with Omera.  Talking doesn’t always come easily for me, but with her, it did.  Once my creed was broken, I decided to take off the helmet with her and Winta.  After that, the rest just kind of… happened naturally.  I wasn’t looking for it, never even thought it was possible to have this… But life with the three of them is more meaningful than being a Mandalorian ever was.”
“Are you married?  Or plan to get married?” Din shook his head no in response.  “Why not?”
“We don’t really talk about what we are.  I have unfinished business with Bo-Katan that may call me away indefinitely at some point.  It’s easier to just enjoy what we have while we have it.”  Din looked down.  “But I’d be lying if I said I never thought about leaving it all behind me, settle here and live a peaceful life.  Maybe someday, I can give up the armor completely and stay for good, be a partner to Omera and a father to Winta, but now is just not the time.”
Jai was silent a moment before speaking hesitantly.  “I know I’m young and don’t entirely understand the ways of adults... but it appears very much to me like you already are those things.”
Din stared into Jai’s visor for so long that they began to feel uncomfortable.  “You know, kid.  You’re a lot wiser than your years.”  Din cleared his throat to diffuse the tense atmosphere that had overtaken the small dinner table.  “Anyway, take as much time as you need to think through things.  You can stay here, come on missions with me if you want to.  No matter what you ultimately decide, just know that we’ll support you.”
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Omera stirred as Din finally joined her on the sleeping mat in the small bedroom.  “Sorry, cyare.  Go back to sleep,” he said, pulling the blankets more securely over her shoulders.
“I was waiting for you… How’s our friend?” she questioned sleepily, pulling Din into a loose embrace under the covers.
He settled himself comfortably before responding,  “Confused… but I think they’re going to be alright.  They’re a smart kid - just needs some time to think about their options.”
She hummed in agreement.  “I think you may have yourself another foundling, Din,” she added, giggling softly.  “Are you ready to have three children under your care?”
Din faltered.  “You… you consider Winta to be… mine?”
Omera hadn’t even realized what she’d said and sat up with a start.  “Oh, Din… I…”
But he stopped her.  “I love you, Omera… I love Winta, too, like she’s my own.”
The truth was that the entire village had known for years now that Omera and the Mandalorian were very much in love, that they and their children had become a family.  It was glaringly obvious in every interaction.  And Din and Omera knew it, too - they just simply didn’t acknowledge it out loud, in some backward attempt to prevent the sting of future loss if Din ever found himself the leader of Mandalore… or dead by Bo-Katan’s hand.  But they were in too deep now - the loss would be felt either way.
“I love you, too, Din… but that’s no secret.”
“I shouldn’t have waited so long to say it, cyare,” he responded, pulling her forehead to his.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.  I understand why you did… But I don’t think we can escape the truth that we’re a family whether we say it out loud or not.”  She let out a wet laugh at how silly their behavior had really been these past several years.
And then her mouth found his as she pulled him back down onto the bed mat with her, taking some time to revel in this long-known truth, finally brought out into the light.
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By the time Jai finally emerged from the barn, having enjoyed their first extended period of sleep in quite some time after hours spent in deep thought, the rest of the household had risen and started their day, and Din was already dressed in the armor, sans helmet until first meal was done.
Winta greeted Jai in her usual cheerful manner, guiding them to sit at the table next to her, careful this time to keep her gaze pointed away from her new friend so that they could eat without concern.  Grogu was snoozing peacefully in his father’s arms, unlikely to cause any trouble.
They chatted away amiably while they ate, Jai much more comfortable now than they had been last night.  That is, until Winta asked how they’d like to be addressed - would ‘Mando’ be alright?
Jai froze.  Outwardly, they appeared to be upset at Winta’s innocent question, and Din was ready to intervene, despite being unsure of the offense, while Winta mentally prepared a solemn apology.  But in fact, Jai was simply mustering the courage to take action, one they’d thought about well into the night.  
Jai looked at Din for a moment, and then before they could change their mind, brought their hands to their helmet and pulled it off their head.
Jai looked at Winta first, stifling a laugh at her wide-eyed expression, before telling her calmly, “You can call me Jai.”
Winta smiled broadly in realization as Jai glanced over to Din who simply nodded and stated, “This is the way.”
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