#Vane x reader

[luvlyycy]

"you good?" he breathes heavily as he looks down at you, hands on either side of your head. he pouts when you don't respond, before realizing you're honestly way too fucked out— he lowers his right arm to his elbow, using his left hand to wipe the drool from your swollen lips.

vane lets out a quick laugh, one of his earlier loads of cum seeping from your still-filled hole as he snaps his hips forward once, eliciting a whimper from you. "aayy, you're still alive 'n kickin' ahh? come onnn, look at me, babyyy.." he wraps his arms around your body, pressing his cheek against yours— his imaginary tail wagging.

"vane, it's t'much... too full..."

i mean, your tummy might be bulging a little buuutt..

"c'monnn, you can take all of me right? my dick is so hard.. and i know you wanna help me right??? riiiigghhhht???"

you whine before sheepishly nodding.

#gbf smut #gbfvsr smut #gbfvs smut #gbfvsr #gbf #gbf vane #vane #vane smut #gbf vane smut #granblue versus smut #granblue relink smut #granblue versus #granblue smut #granblue fantasy #granblue vane #granblue vane smut #vane x you #vane x reader

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Six)

Summary: After rescuing the foundling, Din returns to the covert and receives some advice from Bo-Katan, but an unexpected visitor soon shatters the peace his clan had fought so hard to achieve.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’m excited because we’ve almost reached my favorite scene to write from this season of the show! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Six The Ranger (Previous Chapter)

“Well, this is certainly the strangest mix of passengers I’ve ever flown in my ship,” Bo-Katan remarked with amusement in her modulated voice as she glanced over her shoulder at the three trussed hatchlings being looked after by several of their fellow Mandalorians. “But I’ll bet this is nothing to a former smuggler like (Y/N), huh?”

Din hummed in response from his seat behind her, staring out the viewport at the scenic landscape while his thoughts were consumed by his discontented wife. Their mission to rescue the foundling from the raptor’s nest had been enough to distract him from his worry over (Y/N)’s mental well-being, but his worry for her was quick to return the moment they reunited young Ragnar with his father Paz. He knew the captain well enough to tell that she was hiding her true feelings about their clan’s acceptance into the covert and although she’d given in without any argument, he knew that she didn’t appreciate being left out of their mission to rescue the foundling. Her happiness means more to me than anyone could ever know but I cannot protect it if I don’t know what’s bothering her, he thought with an inward sigh, his finger tracing along the wedding ring that was hidden beneath his glove.

“Is there something on your mind that you wish to discuss, Din? I’ve been known to be a fairly good listener.”

Din sat forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his gloved hands together and looking down at his worn boots before finally speaking. “I noticed that (Y/N) didn’t seem herself yesterday. Has she mentioned if there’s anything that’s been bothering her or if she’s unhappy?”

Bo-Katan glanced away from the controls to spare him a look. “You don’t know?” When he only stared back at her, she shook her head and sighed. “She’s not unhappy, Din, she’s insecure. For her entire life, she’s always been sure of herself and her abilities; she adapted to her circumstances – being orphaned, growing up as a smuggler, taking up arms against the Empire – and her great capacity to adapt is what helped her survive. Now that she’s found herself living amongst a covert of Mandalorians, she’s finding it difficult to adapt to our lifestyle.”

“I…I had no idea.”

“I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it too much if I were you; (Y/N)’s a proud woman who hides her emotions behind a mask of strength,” The Nite Owl replied with a noncommittal shrug, turning her attention back to her controls with a hint of a smile in her voice. “So, we’re obviously nothing alike.” Din chuckled at that. “She just wants to fit in, Din, and in time she will. You’ve just gotta be patient with her until she finds her place in the covert.”

While they journeyed back to the covert, Din considered Bo-Katan’s wise words and in no time, they were initiating the landing sequence and touching down on the lakeshore just past the cave. Paz and Ragnar walked down the Gauntlet’s gangplank accompanied by the celebratory cheers and the clanging of beskar vambraces, and Din and Bo-Katan followed after them; (Y/N) was standing off to the side of the gathering of Mandalorians with Grogu nestled in her arms, the both of them looking happy that their mission was a success but also a little self-conscious, and the sight of them caused Din to take longer strides to reach them quicker.

“We knew you’d be able to do it!” (Y/N) beamed and passed a squirming Grogu over to Din once he was standing before them. “Didn’t we, Grogu?”

The child happily cooed and snuggled his face against Din’s cowl, making him chuckle and gently pat his back. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, kid.” He cupped (Y/N)’s cheek with his free hand and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss. “How were things while I was away?”

“Very insightful, actually.” The captain pulled away far enough to look into the visor of his helmet. “Sweetheart, there’s something I have to talk to you about-”

“I know, alor’ad, and I understand.” Din took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you here and now, I’ll do whatever I can to help you find your way here.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed but before she could reply, Paz and Ragnar walked up to them and the older Mandalorian bowed his helmeted head in respect. “Captain (Y/L/N). While he recuperates from his ordeal with the raptor, my son Ragnar wishes to learn the basics of piloting until he can resume his drills. Would you be willing to take him on as a student?”

A smile tugged on the corners of Din’s lips as he watched (Y/N)’s brows raise in surprise and her face brighten with unabashed happiness. “O-Of course, I would be honored to teach him.” Giving Din’s hand a tight squeeze, she focused her attention on the blue-helmeted boy standing beside his father. “If you’re feeling up to it, Ragnar, we can start bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“This is the Way,” Ragnar replied and, just as Paz had, bowed his head in respect before looking up at his father. “Is it dinnertime yet? I haven’t eaten since yesterday!”

Paz huffed out a chuckle. “Of course, son. Come, we’ll fix you something to eat.”

With one last nod, the older Mandalorian led the foundling into the cave and without warning, (Y/N) laughed in delight and threw her arms around Din’s neck. “This is perfect! If everything goes well with Ragnar, I’ll be able to put my piloting skills to good use and teach all the children how to pilot!”

“Ner mirdala alor’ad. My clever captain, always thinking five steps ahead of everyone else.” He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and held her close, beyond thankful to the Maker that she’d found a way to feel more secure about herself amongst the rest of their covert. “Just one of the many, many things I love about you.”

(Y/N) arched a brow and bit her lip to keep from grinning as she finally released him. “Well, as much as I’d like to hear the rest, we should probably find something for Grogu to eat before he goes after one of those hatchlings you brought back. And speaking of the little guy, there really is something important I have to tell you about him…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week, they were beginning to fall into a routine of sorts. (Y/N) would begin the day teaching Ragnar and a small handful of apprentices the basics of piloting while Din worked with Grogu on his drills, and the both of them would spend the evening helping Grogu practice using the Force; the other Mandalorians, seeing how willing the captain was to both teach all she knew about piloting and to learn all she could about their culture, warmed up to her presence and welcomed her into their covert, and they treated Grogu with the same level of respect as any other foundling among their ranks. In their spare time, Din and (Y/N) used their beat-up holopad to research Naboo and Kelleran Beq, the Jedi who rescued the child from the Jedi Temple at the end of the Clone Wars, but to no avail; they couldn’t seem to find any information on why the Jedi was assisted by the Naboo Royal Guard and Grogu seemed reluctant to show them another Force vision, so they decided not to push the issue with him.

Their peaceful bubble that they were slowly becoming accustom to was eventually shattered by the arrival of an X-Wing piloted by a familiar Adelphi Ranger. As word quickly spread throughout the covert, Din and (Y/N) followed the troop of Mandalorians that volunteered to block the officer of the New Republic from stepping foot into the cave, an unsettling feeling beginning to take shape in the pit of Din’s stomach.

“Captain Carson Teva, Adelphi Rangers. I have a time-pressing matter to attend to.”

“Clear out, Blue Boy,” Paz commanded as the other Mandalorians fanned out on either side of him. “The New Republic isn’t welcome here.”

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but if I’d given warning, your settlement would’ve cleared out before I ever hit atmosphere.”

Exchanging a wary glance with (Y/N), Din stepped out of the cave and weaved past the blockade of Mandalorians while the captain followed close behind. “How did you manage to find us? Mandalorians pride ourselves on our secrecy.”

Captain Teva, looking the same as he had when he’d saved their lives on Maldo Kreis and nearly arrested them just outside of Tatooine’s atmosphere, gave them both a small smile. “Fortunately, someone I served with in the Rebellion is amongst your ranks.” Din’s brows rose in surprise and he scanned the group of Mandalorians standing behind them, only stopping when he spotted their anxious astromech droid rolling to a stop beside (Y/N) and sighing in exasperation when he greeted the pilot with a series of chirps and whistles; unaffected by Din’s annoyance, Captain Teva saluted R5D4. “Thanks, R5.”

Din placed his hands on his hips and stared down the unflinching officer. “The entire covert will now have to relocate.”

“Or we could kill him,” Paz gruffly offered. “Stay right here.”

Fighting the obvious urge to roll her eyes at the older Mandalorian’s dramatics, (Y/N) shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Din, need I remind you that Captain Teva here once helped us out of a very sticky situation and is the sole reason why we’re alive right now?”

“Of course, alor’ad, you’re right.” Din glanced over his shoulder at his fellow Mandalorians. “This man cut us a break once, and now I’m returning the favor.” He turned back around to face the officer. “Clear out, Blue.”

Ignoring Din’s order, Captain Teva patted the pocket of his orange flight-suit’s pocket. “Greef Karga sent this holo-message.” (Y/N) stepped forward but when the officer reached into his pocket, the Mandalorians raised their blasters to defend the captain in case of any subterfuge; Captain Teva cautiously withdrew a black puck from his pocket and slowly handed it over to (Y/N) before continuing. “Nevarro is under siege by pirates. He’s asking for help.”

Biting his lip, Din hesitated a moment before joining (Y/N) and quietly asking, “Why are you really here?”

“They’re about to blow Nevarro to hell.”

“Then call in a strike; we don’t even have ships.”

“Coruscant doesn’t care,” Captain Teva pointed out as the three of them walked down the beach towards his X-Wing. “Karga is your friend; you won’t let him die.” He glanced over at (Y/N) and pointed at the Rebel Alliance symbol stitched onto the shoulder of his flight-suit. “And a veteran of the Rebellion won’t just sit back and let innocent civilians get hurt.”

A line formed between (Y/N)’s brows as she silently pondered the officer’s words and Din pursed his lips beneath his helmet, a part of him still wary of his intentions. “What’s in it for you?”

Captain Teva looked between Din and (Y/N) as he lowly replied, “The New Republic has to know that the Empire is growing again.”

“And you think the Pirate King has something to do with it?” The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth was turned downwards into a troubled frown. “Gorian Shard’s a menace, but I can’t see him willingly taking orders from Imps.”

“I can’t say for sure, Captain (Y/L/N), but something doesn’t smell right.” Din and (Y/N) exchanged another look and the officer sighed. “Look, it’s not your fight. I just came to tell you your friend’s in danger and I thought you should know.” Captain Teva climbed into the cockpit of his X-Wing and he slipped his flight helmet on as Bo-Katan strode across the lakeshore towards where they stood. “I know you’ll relocate anyway but you have my word, I will not reveal your location. Sorry to intrude.”

“May the Force be with you, Captain Teva,” (Y/N) called out over the noise of the X-Wing’s engine and the officer saluted her before lowering the windshield and taking to the sky. “I should’ve kriffing known that Gorian Shard would retaliate against Nevarro…”

Din wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close. “It’s not your fault, alor’ad.”

“So, what’re you guys thinking?” Bo-Katan asked.

Sighing, Din looked down at the black puck clutched tight in his wife’s hand before answering. “He’s right. We’ve gotta help the guy.”

The Nite Owl nodded. “Well, you can’t do it alone. I think it’s time we called a council meeting, don’t you?”

Din watched the X-Wing grow smaller on the horizon, his mind already decided on their next course of action; convincing the Mandalorians who’d once taken up arms against Karga to help him won’t be easy, he thought to himself with an inward sigh, but we owe it to him to try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Din paced before the bonfire burning in the center of their covert’s council chambers, he felt a surge of gratitude that there were two supportive faces sitting amongst the crowd of gathered Mandalorians. (Y/N) was seated beside Bo-Katan and Grogu was nestled comfortably in her lap, his large eyes bright with curiosity as Din addressed the chamber.

“Now, many of you don’t know Greef Karga and those that do fought against him when you rescued me from his ambush many cycles ago on the streets of Nevarro.” Din’s gloved hand tightened around the Armorer’s forging hammer while the Mandalorians quietly muttered amongst themselves, taking a deep breath and remaining calm for the sake of his argument. “Since then, he’s had a change of heart and has risked his life to save mine as well as my riduur and the foundling in our charge. I stand before you to petition an intervention, to help rescue Nevarro before it’s too late. I am in no position to ask any more of you, however-” More indistinct chattering interrupted Din’s words, but he merely raised the hammer in his hand and spoke over his fellow Mandalorians. “However, the enemy that decimated this very covert were Imperials, not Greef Karga’s bounty hunters. Greef Karga is now a High Magistrate and has offered my riduur and I a tract of land on his independent world.” He smiled beneath his helmet at the look of surprise on (Y/N)’s face; he’d spent so long living with the guilt of not providing the captain with the peaceful life she’d always dreamed of – a stable home and the ability to open her own seamstress shop as her late mother once had on Naboo – but now, that weight was taken off his shoulders as she beamed in happiness at him from across the chamber. “Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again on a planet where we are welcome, so our culture may flourish and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight.”

There was a tonal shift in the murmurs amongst the gathering of Mandalorians as Din handed the hammer over to the Armorer and took a seat beside (Y/N), lacing his fingers through hers and letting Grogu crawl over to sit on his lap. “Does anyone else wish to speak?” The Armorer looked around the chamber and held out the forging hammer for the next person to take.

“It’s up to them now,” Din quietly remarked.

(Y/N) squeezed his hand but silently watched as Paz stood and crossed the chamber. “I do.” He took the hammer from the Armorer and waited for her to take her seat before addressing his brothers and sisters-in-arms. “I was there on Nevarro that night. I fought against Greef Karga and his hunters. I saw my brothers and sisters fall at the hands of the Imperial butchers that hunted us in the sewers. I saw many die to save the life of this one, tiny foundling.” From his place on Din’s lap, Grogu softly cooed and (Y/N) ran a soothing hand over the top of his wrinkled head. “And now we are asked to sacrifice yet again. The question we should be asking ourselves is, ‘Why? Why should we lay our lives down yet again?’” Paz paused to let his words sink in but as Din braced himself for an argument against intervention, he bellowed, “Because we are Mandalorians!” (Y/N) and Bo-Katan exchanged a look and Din straightened in his seat as the older Mandalorian gestured towards him. “I have had my disagreements with this man, but he risked his life to save my son. Captain (Y/L/N) fearlessly volunteered to join the rescue party, without a single piece of beskar armor or years of combat training to protect herself. And Bo-Katan Kryze did not give up on my child’s life, even when the rest of us did. These three are asking us to take up arms in the name of a brighter future, and I for one will take up arms to fight by their side.” The gathered Mandalorians nodded in agreement and voiced their approval of Paz’s rallying words as he raised the forging hammer high. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” The assembled Mandalorians echoed.

The Armorer nodded. “This is the Way.”

As the Mandalorians talked amongst themselves and filtered out of the chamber, Bo-Katan let out a long sigh. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. I’m gonna go and check on the Gauntlet, make sure it’s running smoothly for our mission on Nevarro.”

Patting Grogu on the head, the Nite Owl stood and walked out of the chamber and (Y/N)’s eyes were sparkling with joy as she turned to face him. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

“Once or twice, but I could always use a reminder.” The captain giggled at his reply as he gently pressed his helmeted forehead against hers. “Your culture deserves to live on through you, alor’ad, and you deserve to live the life you’ve always dreamed of. Just as you honor and respect our Way, I honor and respect your people’s traditions and I will do anything to ensure that we can walk both paths together. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“And I love you too, my honorable Mandalorian.”

The clan of three sat alone in the council chamber and enjoyed their moment of solitude before leaving to begin planning their new mission, eager to save their friend and the citizens of Nevarro and establish a new home and permanent home for their son and their people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Ner mirdala alor’ad-My clever captain Riduur-Spouse Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​​​​ @sinon36​​​​ @seninjakitey​​​​ @thatonedindjarinfan​​​​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​ @momc95​​​​ @welcometothepedroverse​​​​ @sarahjkl82-blog​​​​ @elinedjarin​​​​ @itsnottilly​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​ @impala1967666​​​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​​​ @icee228​​​​​ @siimiasoi​​

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #baby yoda #captain teva #r5d4 #bo katan kryze #paz vizsla #the armorer #greef karga #gorian shard #vane #star wars #din djarin x f!reader

[phenomenal1500]

~The Gallows~

Masterlist

A/N: This was requested by mocn_knight on Wattpad! ♥️♥️

Summary: Charles finds out he got the woman he is now locked up with pregnant, right before their execution.

Timeline: Season 3.

Pairing: Captain Charles Vane x Preg!Fem!Reader Warnings: Angst, smut talk, fluff, gallows talk.

Y/N pressed her sore back against the cold wall behind her as she sat down, remembering the man in front of her all too well. She remembered his growls, his weight on her, his scent. Everything. If she didn't know any better he might've been able to convince her by the way he pleased her that he might've loved her, but she knew that wasn't the case. Not at all really.

And so that was why she hid her secret from him.... He didn't need to know.

She could already guess how he would've reacted to the news if she did tell him and she didn't mind doing it on her own anyway.

She didn't need help because besides him perhaps not liking the idea, she knew he also probably would've thought she betrayed him. She had promised him to clean herself and she did, it was just done too late. Having his child was never her plan, never her intention.

"Y/N?"

'Shit', she thought. She kinda hoped he would've forgotten about her by now. She wasn't the only woman he had after all.

"Y/N? They cut off your tongue?" He repeated and her eyes shot up to meet his blue ones.

"No, they haven't. I was trying to come up with an escape plan in my head." She shrugged and tried to remain calm. She was so incredibly nervous. She really didn't want him to find out, but it wasn't like she was in her first semester anymore either. "I'm not going to rot away in a dungeon or hang above the streets like a trophy."

"I feel like it's too late for that." He looked her up and down, noticing she was wearing wider clothes which she wasn't known for. 'They are in the way during a fight'. Her words. "There's one window neither of us fit through and the door is locked and heavily guarded. This time it is going to be the gallows for us, love."

'Love?', he never called her that before....

"No, I don't believe that for one second and I know neither do you. You're a good man, Charles, you wouldn't give up like that." She couldn't believe he was this easily defeated. Not a few days back he would've never surrendered to those men out there so she was stunned at what happened to him. "You're strong, intelligent, a captain we need out there fighting for Nassau and our freedom. You'll find a way."

"Not this time." He cut her off and she watched him with hurt eyes.

Was he really done fighting...?

"On your feet!" One of the redcoats ordered as they unlocked the door and came inside, disturbing the heartbreaking conversation the pirates were having.

"Backs against the wall!" Another ordered and shoved Y/N against the wall when she wasn't moving fast enough, the first redcoat stopping him right away with a slap on the back of his head and a tug at his collar.

"Careful you fucker, she might be a pirate, but the cunt is carrying." He growled. "We are ordered to wait until she has the bastard before we can execute her."

"My child isn't a bastard." She hissed back in defense and they just laughed right in her face as they let the maidens safely bring them their daily rotting food before they left and locked the door again.

"Child...?" Charles whispered, looking down at the woman's stomach. "You're carrying...?"

"Forget what they said...." She slowly sat down again and placed the rotting bread in her lap so she could eat a little.

"I don't think I can." He instantly replied and walked up to her, slowly getting on his knees in front of her to make eye contact with her. "Is it mine...?"

"You're all I.... yeah.... I'm certain it is." She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, looking at him nervously. "I'm sorry, Charles. I swear I did everything to prevent it."

"I know you did, Y/N, don't apologize." He rubbed her thighs and moved up to her lower stomach to caress the bump a little. "We'll figure something out." He gave her a soft glare and she relaxed a little by how soothing he talked to her.

He could've been mad about the news, yell at her for letting it happen, but what good was that gonna do? He knew the woman was terrified and never planned any of this to happen and he definitely didn't want to worsen those negative feelings for her. It was his child too after all and so he needed to take care of it, help her as much as he could and perhaps it wasn't even gonna be so bad. Perhaps he could combine his lifestyle with being a father and help her settle down after this war with Rogers was over. He owed her that.

"We can't figure something out since you were right. We can't get out of here. They'll send our baby to London to a wealthy abusive family while we're both hanging over our island like a trophy...."

"No we won't." He kissed her forehead and got up. "I'm sure you and I can think of something. I ain't gonna die, knowing that that means our child will grow up exactly like the men we hate the most. They deserve to figure out who their parents were and where they came from."

"You promise?" She smiled weakly, holding one of his hands.

"I promise, we're getting out of here, love."

#charles vane #captain charles vane #charles vane x reader #Black Sails #fluff #angst #requests open #the gallows

[somedaylazysomeday]

Captured - Part Three

For the first time, you're in the infamous Guthrie's Tavern. It goes about as well as expected.

Captain Charles Vane (Black Sails) x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI

Word Count: 5,800

Warnings: Concealed gender, drinking, mentions of prostitution, brief reference to public sex, reader is disappointingly heterosexual, mention of anal sex, unprotected sex, brief anal play

Previous | Masterlist

---

The liquid in your pewter tankard was foul. 

You had tried to set it back on the scarred wooden surface of the table several times, but it barely rested on the surface before someone was offering to fill it once more. By this point, it was near-overflowing and you could hardly manage more than an occasional sip. 

It was loud, the large room filled with men boisterous from their work. Fights broke out every few minutes and you were uncomfortable with the women milling about half-dressed. Even worse were the ones sitting on laps around the room, caressed by the patrons - or taking part in less tame activities. 

It was hardly somewhere you wanted to be, but the men had wanted to go to the tavern on Nassau. You were flattered that they had wanted to bring you along. 

You did your best to relax and enjoy the coolness of the shaded room on the hot island and the excitement buzzing in the air. The stories and jokes being shouted by your crewmates around the table made you smile, and you braved another sip from your tankard. 

Vane rumbled a laugh, which lightened your mood still further. He had managed to seat you two beside each other around the table, accomplished due to his own need to have his back at a wall and the fact that you had been leading the group through the chaotic room. 

He had been quiet since the beach. More accurately, he had been brooding. One of the men had told you they were going to ‘the tavern’. You, unaware of any issue, had asked if it had a proper name or if it were known as ‘the tavern’ because it was the only one on the island. The answer had been that there were a few, but everyone knew Guthrie’s was the best one. 

The uncomfortable silence and venomous stares from the other crewmembers had been your first hint that something was amiss. Vane pushed past them all, swaggering in the direction they had been moving. You only picked up on the clues when one of the pirates elbowed the one who had spoken, telling him not to say that name in front of the captain. Not if he wanted to keep from pulling night watch for a fortnight. 

You had trailed behind the group, trying to put together all of the pieces of information you had gathered during your time on the Ranger. But Vane seemed to be in better spirits now. Perhaps it was the company. Perhaps it was the temporary release from the stress of captaining a pirate crew. Perhaps it was the two tankards he had managed to drain, or the third he was currently nursing.

In any case, you were happy to listen to your fellow crewmates regale each other with stories, remembering the men who had crewed the Ranger before or tossing around names of potential new recruits.

That casual atmosphere was shattered when a pretty blonde woman marched through the room. 

The men at the table went silent, and something told you this was more than appreciation for a beautiful woman after months at sea. Perhaps this was the famous Eleanor Guthrie. 

She was halfway past your table when her blue eyes landed on Vane and slowed, her eyes dragging over him like they were reluctant to move elsewhere. But they did, and unfortunately, they moved to you. 

It took only a moment of studying your face for her lip to curl and she came to a stop directly in front of your table. 

“Charles,” she greeted, her tone flat and unwelcoming. The men tried to pretend their focus was elsewhere, but your attention was glued to the scene. 

“Eleanor,” Vane ground out. You had never heard him sound so hostile, especially in only a single word. 

“Your hubris is almost to be admired,” Eleanor told him icily. She jutted her chin toward you. “Most men refuse to sail with a single woman on their crew, and yet you have managed to find a second. Was Bonny alone not enough to tempt fate?” 

A stunned silence fell, and you watched the muscles in Vane’s jaw flex. A slap to your shoulder nearly knocked you from your chair. 

“What, d’ya mean Simon?” Elias asked. “He’s a man if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Yeah,” Murphy agreed with a guffaw. “A young ‘un, but he’ll have his whiskers soon as his balls drop.”

That was crass, but you appreciated the fond way Murphy reached across the table to tug your hat down over your eyes. You offered a weak smile when you had fixed it well enough to see again.

“Simon,” Eleanor repeated skeptically. “Simon what?” 

You gave your best attempt at lowering your voice into a male register. “Simon Grove, ma’am.”

“Simon Grove.” Eleanor folded her arms over her front, giving you a disapproving look. “How startlingly delicate you are for serving aboard a sailing vessel for… How long is it now? Several months?” 

Your mouth opened noiselessly as you processed the shock of knowing that Eleanor Guthrie had been keeping tabs on your time aboard the Ranger. 

Benny rested his elbow on your shoulder. “Aye, he’s a skinny little lad, but it’s only ‘cause he was an apprentice back in London. Worked for some man, didn’t you, boy? Doin’ sums?”

“I was an apprentice to a bookkeeper,” you agreed. “No time for physical labor.” 

“Physical labor,” James mocked. “Hear him, lads? Still speaks like a highborn lady, don’t he?” 

“Indeed,” Eleanor bit out. The men startled as if they had forgotten that she was standing there. “Quite feminine.”

“Leave it, Eleanor,” Vane commanded, his voice so deep that you could barely understand him. 

Eleanor eyed him for a moment, one brow raised challengingly. At last, she gave the barest hint of a nod. “My mistake, Simon. Enjoy your time in my tavern.” 

Everyone watched Eleanor Guthrie sweep away, but you finally recognized their attention for what it was: wariness. You distrusted her, and it seemed that you were far from the only one. It was only after she had disappeared into an office off the main room of the tavern that your crewmates relaxed. 

You struggled to regain your previous state of relaxation, though, and Vane returned to scowling. You had to wonder whether he was angry because of the sudden appearance of a past lover or that she had recognized that he had found another with whom to replace her. Eleanor struck you as the breed of woman to despise competition. 

Those suspicions were confirmed when you spotted a beautiful woman crossing the room with another trailing behind. Both of their gazes were fixed on the table, and you braced yourself for an incoming shock. 

“I am looking for… Simon?” the shorter of the two women asked. She had been in the lead, and there was something in her voice and posture that subtly announced her status as an authority figure of some kind. Her dress was of a higher quality than many of the others and bared less of her skin, but she was utterly sensual with the soft waves of her hair and the lilt of her French accent. 

“Bastard,” Elias cursed, even as he grinned at you. “He’s over there.” 

You lifted a hand, making the motion as quick and small as you could manage. 

She caught it anyway, smiling at you. “I am Max, the madame. This is Jeanette.” 

Max’s accent rolled Jeanette’s name the way it was meant to be, giving it the melodic weight it deserved. There was a pause, full of a meaning you did not quite grasp. You nodded, offering a smile to the women. “Nice to meet you, Jeanette.” 

“Pleasure,” Jeanette said, her seductive smile melting toward something more natural. 

“A man with manners,” Max remarked, also smiling. “Jeanette here is a gift from Eleanor Guthrie. She apologizes for her misstep. Your first hour with Jeanette has been paid for. Any further time will be your own responsibility. Enjoy.” 

Max slipped away, disappearing into the crowd as Jeanette held a graceful hand out in your direction. 

You balked. 

The crewmembers of the Ranger joked and complained that you were lucky, several of them offering to take your place. If only it were that simple. It was a master stroke. No red-blooded sailor would refuse time with a pretty woman in a tavern, especially if his time with her were to be free. Eleanor was trying to maneuver you into revealing your own secret.

“Captain?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound nearly as desperate as you felt as you glanced at Vane. 

Murphy jeered. “He’s not your captain on shore, boy!” Vane shot him such a venomous glare that Murphy stared down at the table without offering another word.

“Go,” Vane ordered roughly. In a much lower voice, he added, “I’ll fix it.”

And he was gone too, disappearing into the crowd. You stared after him, feeling rather like a child lost in an unfamiliar and frightening place. 

“Don’t mind him, lad,” Benny said kindly. “He’s probably after a piece of his own.” 

Elias stood from the table, stretching his back as he did so. “Think I’ll go do the same. Shore leave ain’t complete without some tail to make you feel relaxed.”

“Hop to it, boy,” Murphy told you, grinning broadly. “Unless you need some help makin’ sure you leave her properly fucked.”

You knew a lot about properly-fucked women, but being on this side had you at a loss.

However, you were left with no alternative, so you stood and took Jeanette’s hand. She wove her fingers through yours, using your shared grip to lead you through the room. 

Jeanette moved confidently through the crowd, dancing through the masses as you followed clumsily behind her. Fear made your steps slow and graceless, your mind far too preoccupied to worry about your body. 

What would the pirates do when they discovered your ruse? Surely, they would react poorly. Like Eleanor had so kindly mentioned, most sailors believed that having a woman aboard a ship brought terribly bad luck. Would they remove you from the Ranger permanently? Would they kill you outright? Or would they simply abandon you to the shores of Nassau, leaving you to find your own way there without another moment of rough kindness or brotherly teasing? 

The mere thought made your stomach twist. Or perhaps that was your sudden proximity to the staircase. 

Jeanette’s pace slowed considerably when you reached the stairs. At first, you thought it was because of her shoes, but a downward glance proved her to be bare-foot. The only reasoning you could infer was that she was giving the other women time to ply their own wares for when you had finished with Jeanette. 

Scantily-clad women lined the staircase, lounging and chatting in a show of faux relaxation. They called their hourly rates to you, pairing them with lewd suggestions that made your face heat. The worst were the ones who reached out with graceful arms, offering to wrap them around you and stroking whatever they could reach. You managed to avoid most of them. With any luck, the few who encountered the long linen rectangle wrapped around your breasts would believe you were wearing a thick shirt. 

Vaguely, you recognized that a woman had pulled Jeanette close. They seemed to whisper for a moment before they shared a long, worshipful kiss. The sight of their searching lips and wandering hands made your body begin to react, though you were thinking of Vane rather than either of the women standing before you. 

At last, Jeanette broke away from the other woman, giving you a coy smile. “Pardon, lovey. Follow me.” 

As if you had not been doing that very thing? You bit back impatience as you continued up the narrow staircase, brushing shoulders with a dazed-looking pirate on his way back down. Your temper was high, but it was a thin facade. You had not decided how to defuse the situation and time was growing short. 

When you reached the top of the staircase, Jeanette opened a door and ushered you through. You stepped inside, observing the space with no small amount of curiosity. It was hardly what you had expected from the stories you had overheard in London. You had expected a dark, cavernous space, cramped and heavily perfumed. 

Instead, the room was high-ceilinged and airy. The doors that led onto the small balcony were closed, but enough wind filtered through the shuttered windows that the room smelled of salt air and sunshine. The furnishings were opulent, far more ornate than you would have expected… until you noticed that they were shabby around the edges. Everything that surrounded the pirates of Nassau was a little shabby, and that familiar quality helped put you slightly more at ease. That feeling dissipated slightly as Jeanette closed the door, shutting you in the room together. 

You half turned your head in an effort to watch Jeanette without being obvious. She gave you a small smile as she crossed the room, moving determinedly toward a folding screen set along one wall. That likely meant she would disrobe, and then you would have to do something. You were still uncertain of what exactly you would do. Fear and discomfort made it difficult for you to think. 

Jeanette moved the panels of the screen aside, revealing a set of double doors set into the wall. She drew them open, stepping back to watch you, her amusement plain.

There was a moment of loaded silence, you and Jeanette watching each other, but a voice soon broke the tension: “Simon. Enter.” 

You obeyed, stepping through the doorway before you had time to process that you had recognized the speaker. “Max.” 

The door from Jeanette’s room had led into this one, the rooms connected only to each other. This room was as light-filled and airy as Jeanette’s, but almost twice the size. There was a large desk on one side of the room, facing the door you had not come through. Max was sitting behind it, clearly having paused in the middle of writing a letter to glance up at you.

The young madame smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek like magic. “Please, sit. We will have company soon.”

You looked nervous when you sat down across from Max. You could feel the trepidation written across your own features, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. In an effort to hide what little you could, you chose not to speak. 

As it happened, you were not given a choice. Max fixed you with a curious stare. “Tell me: was it you who found the discrepancy in the prices Eleanor Guthrie paid for the goods brought back on the Ranger?”

Lying seemed to be the wisest course of action, but it would do little good. Any of the crew would tell Max the same, so there was no need to be less than honest. “Yes, it was I.” 

Max dipped her chin in a slow nod. “Miss Guthrie had to part with a significant amount of her profits or risk a riot. Nassau’s crews did not take kindly to hear of their own being cheated.” 

“I told none other than the captain of my crew,” you replied, gaze even. 

“Of course.” Max smiled then, bright and mischievous. “I found myself well entertained while she dealt with the trouble. For that inconvenience, I am willing to look the other way for the odd situation. Especially when doing so protects a marvelous secret.”

Clearly, she had ferreted out your secret. You were beginning to wonder if your disguise fooled anyone at all. 

“I know no secrets,” you told her, lowering your chin to give her a look with more intensity. Men did not lift their chins when they argued, but lowered them for a deeper stare, a deeper voice, and greater protection. “And I have asked you no favors.” 

There was a knock on the door and you tensed.

“You have not,” Max agreed, turning her attention to the door. “You may enter.” 

With concentrated effort, you did not turn toward the door opening behind your chair. However, a well-placed mirror allowed you to watch as a familiar figure entered the room. 

"Max," Jack Rackham greeted, offering a nod as he walked through the doorway.

Anne Bonny was just behind him, silent and graceful as a shadow as she slipped through the door. She scanned the room and, having found no threats, nodded to you and Max as well. 

At last, Vane came in, closing the door behind himself. His focus was fixed on you, only you. He crossed to where you were sitting, looking more powerful than ever with tension coiled in his muscles. 

"What the fuck is happening?" he demanded without preamble. 

Max seemed unconcerned with Vane's lack of social graces. "Eleanor has discovered your little secret. Naturally, she will take her petty revenge where she can."

Vane growled. "Not me she going after." 

"Did you expect another reaction?" Max asked, curious. A tilt of her head sent a chestnut spiral of hair brushing along her shoulder until it came to rest on the swell of her breast. Abruptly, you understood how she had become a madame so young. "You have taken a new lover. She could never allow such a thing." 

"Hold on," Jack interjected. "The two of them aren't necessarily fucking just because we have a woman in disguise on the ship." 

Anne snorted indelicately while Max gave Jack an arch look. "Not necessarily, but it is obvious for any who care to look."

"What are we going to do?" you asked. The pirates and prostitutes in the room were observing, not judging, but you would prefer not to have your private affairs discussed in such a public place. 

There was a stilted pause as everyone in the room eyed each other. 

"It is simple," Max told you. Oddly, you found her directness soothing. "You and Jeanette will return to her room. She will loudly and repeatedly compliment 'Simon' on his skill and size. When what remains of your hour has ended, you may leave. If anyone - including Eleanor - asks about the encounter, both Jeanette and myself will swear Simon is a man. Is this acceptable?" 

Everyone looked to Vane. He looked at you. When you gave a nod, he returned it, the gesture taut with temper. 

"And what do you intend to charge for these generous services?" Jack asked Max, crossing his arms in a clear attempt to look more threatening. Meanwhile, Vane was standing beside you - loose-limbed with his hand resting just touching your arm - and looked like the most dangerous person in the world. 

Max smiled, an enigmatic expression. She tilted her head toward you. “We have already discussed payment. It has been settled.” 

Vane frowned at you, but Max rose, beckoning you back toward Jeanette’s room. “Time is short. You must begin. Everyone else will wait in the tavern.” 

“Like hell.” Vane’s growl was short, sharp, and unwavering. He had stood when you did, shadowing every step you took toward Jeanette and her bedroom.

“Charles…” Jack urged. 

“Surely you can see that your presence would add nothing to the situation?” Max asked him. “This office must be visibly empty while the performance is going, and none other than ‘Simon’ may leave Jeanette’s room at the end of their shared hour. You in particular, Captain Vane, must be seen in the tavern the entire time they are gone. Eleanor will be watching for your reaction to this development just as she watched Simon’s reaction to her gift. Both of your lives will be far easier if Eleanor concludes that she was mistaken.” 

Vane glowered at her, but stepped back, letting you continue forward alone. Jeanette gave you a kind smile and closed the door behind you both. Vane’s eyes burned into yours until the wooden panels of the door cut through your shared gaze. 

The following half-hour was one of the most mortifying of your life - perhaps second in comparison to the first time Vane had stripped you, discovered your true identity, and pulled unimaginable pleasure from your confused body. 

Jeanette was a masterful actress, moaning wantonly in a way that made your face burn. At her urging, you managed a few sharp groans and a particularly loud curse at a strategic moment. Jeanette’s compliments were as loud as they were lewd, and you could not decide whether it would be better or worse for them to have been overheard. At last, she prompted you to give a shout, one almost drowned out by her rapturous cry. 

A part of your mind had withdrawn into itself in a bid for protection, and it wondered if you should be more vocal in your endeavors with Vane. Thankfully, you could not ponder it for long, because Jeanette was toying with your clothing. 

Jeanette adjusted your belt, leaving it slightly looser than it had been, then misbuttoned one of your shirt buttons and tilted your hat to sit crooked atop your head. She pressed her fingers against your lips to swell them and - with your hesitant permission - gave a delicate bite against the side of your neck, leaving the mark clearly visible above your mussed collar. 

You were sure to thank her as you left. You had no illusions about what any Nassau resident would do with such valuable information, but you would not jeopardize yourself by failing to be kind. 

When you let yourself out of the door, Jeanette wound herself around your back, pressing a kiss to the mark she had left on your neck. You could feel that she was partially undressed, one bare breast visible to the tavern below. As you hurried down the stairs, you tugged your hat down, hoping to hide how flustered you felt. 

Vane was the only one sitting at the table you had shared previously. All the other crewmembers of the Ranger must have found other ways to spend their time. You preferred not to think too deeply about how they were currently occupied. 

You sat on a chair across from Vane, landing heavier than expected. Your knees were trembling a bit at the performance of it all, especially knowing that Eleanor Guthrie was likely watching you. Perhaps it had been a mistake to sit down with Vane at all. Perhaps the wiser choice would have been to go to the bar or find another group to sit with. 

“Want to get out of here?” Vane asked. Started from your thoughts, you took a moment to nod. “We can’t leave together. I’ll go wait by the beach. You have a drink and meet me in ten minutes.” 

You made a face at the tankard he slid your direction. “Do I have to drink it?” 

Vane watched you for a moment, uncomprehending, before mirth slid through his expression. “Do as you like.” For the second time that day, you watched him walk away. 

The next ten minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Eleanor made another appearance in the tavern, making her way slowly from table to table. Fortunately, there seemed to be a problem with the seal at the bottom of your tankard, and you only had to fight through a few mouthfuls of rancid ale before the pewter was empty. You pretended to drain the tankard, slamming it onto the table and standing before Eleanor could reach you. 

The unsteadiness of your gait probably came off like you were an inexperienced young man who had just had his first sexual encounter. You hoped so. However, the true cause was that your nerves seemed to grow taut under the attentive blue gaze of Eleanor Guthrie. 

When you rounded the corner away from Guthrie’s, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders. You had survived an encounter with Vane’s ex-lover, the woman whose presence loomed larger than any other in his past. What you had done was finished, and there was nothing left but to see if she believed the ruse. 

Vane was waiting exactly where you hoped he would, and you fell into step as he led you onto one of the island’s most remote beaches. There, tucked between a collection of rocks and a small copse of palm trees, was a tent. 

The canvas along the sides of the tent was tattered, leaving his belongings coated with a thick layer of sand, but the canvas above you was unmarred. It would keep out the worst of the rain, and Vane cleaned the hammock efficiently by turning it upside down and giving a hard shake. There was a crate of alcohol to be dusted off and a collection of stubby candles that begged to be freed from the sand, but nothing that needed immediate attention. 

“Did she speak to you?” 

Vane never gave a name, but you were not confused. He was speaking of Eleanor. There was no one else he could have meant. “No.” 

“She should never have involved you,” Vane spat out, approaching closer behind you. “She and I were-” 

“I know,” you interrupted. In the stunned silence, you turned to eye him in skeptical amusement. “Your crew talks, as do the islanders. I know what you were to each other, and I know how relations have changed between you. There is nothing you must explain.” 

Vane was taken aback, watching you with confusion on his handsome face. Then it shifted to something darker, yet far more welcome. When he took your mouth in a hard, demanding kiss, you were ready. You gave and demanded in turn, meeting him with fervor. His hands wandered your body, noting your mussed collar, misbuttoned shirt, and too-loose belt. The belt worked in his favor, as a single firm tug dropped your trousers to the sand. 

“We- We need to be careful,” you panted, scarcely managing to speak. “Anyone could run across us here.” 

“Stop?” he managed, even if it was muffled against your neck. 

The idea nearly drew a whine from you. “Not if we can be sure no one will see us.”

Vane stilled, holding his position for long enough that you could feel your bodies pulsing against each other. “Trust me.” 

You did, completely, and allowed him to maneuver you into a different position. In the end, you found yourself on hands and knees on a blanket spread over the sand. It was a compromising position - though you still wore your shirt, the entirety of your rear end was exposed to Vane’s gaze. And other things. 

The position was unfamiliar. You and Vane tended toward eye contact when you were together. It did not escape your notice that you had seen dogs and livestock coupling this way. Your face burned with humiliation at the reminder that you were nothing more than an animal. Even as you thought crossed your mind, you shifted your weight eagerly. The heat in your face was matched with heat elsewhere as your body bloomed for him. 

A soft thump from behind you was your sole warning before Vane pressed himself against your exposed sex. You gasped, glancing back to find that he had unfastened his breeches only far enough to pull his cock free. 

“And if- if someone sees us?” you asked. 

“If they do, they’ll think I’m fucking your ass.” 

The idea made your body tighten, though not entirely unpleasantly. “That is an improvement?” 

“The world thinks you are a man,” Vane reminded you. “A captain fucking a crewmate… Not good, but not uncommon.”

You digested that silently, jaw dropping when Vane pressed his length along your seam. He felt much larger at that angle. “Or do you want to stop?” 

You shook your head, but Vane remained still. He wanted a verbal answer. “I don’t want to stop. Please…” 

Vane replied to you. He did, but it was so low and so incredibly deep that you could not begin to understand. However, the way he shifted made the head of him slip against you in a way that detailed his intentions as clearly as any words.

Some combination of the position, the kissing, and the general events of the day had left you wet and ready for him. That was lucky, since Vane sheathed himself in you, using only two long strokes to spear to your very core. 

He stilled when he was fully inside of you, both of you panting. You found yourself surprised that he had stopped - you could feel the way your body was gripping him, and the strength of it was likely just this side of torture. It was the same for you. Being on your knees with him behind you allowed him far deeper than you were accustomed to, and you could hardly breathe with the intensity of it. 

“Fuck,” Vane spat, and you might have been offended if he had not been throbbing so hard inside of you. It helped when he leaned forward to brush a kiss over your shoulder blade, the shifting of him inside of you took both of your breath away. “How does it feel for you?” 

“I-” Your voice was so breathless that it startled you. “I need…” 

You pawed uselessly at your breasts, still confined beneath your shirt and the cloth you used to contain them. The intrusion of Vane’s length was teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, your body struggling to surface in the ocean of sensations assaulting your system. 

“I know,” Vane said simply, instantly soothing you as he reached between your legs. The angle was trickier than you had expected, but he found and parted your folds with ease. Gentle upward strokes brought the liquid drenching him up to the top of your slit, and let him rub that small, sensitive pearl without irritation. 

It should have felt shameful for him to hold such mastery over your body, but all you felt was relief. Vane had you writhing into the palm of his hand in only moments. The iron press of him had turned from a source of strain to a promise of pleasure, and you canted your hips backward to press him more firmly inside of yourself. 

Vane choked out another curse, hips kicking helplessly toward you. His fingers convulsed against you, pressing your clit nearly to the point of pain. That sweet bite matched the pleasure-pain of him stretching you, and you moaned.

“Please,” you forced out. “Please fuck me.” 

Strong fingers sank into your hips, holding you steady as Vane began to move against you. Each thrust was brutal, devastating. His length seemed to stretch impossibly far, and an eternity passed in every cycle of pulling from your body only to push back in. The collisions between your bodies shook you both, making you sway your weight on your hands. Vane’s iron grip kept you in place at first, but his goal soon shifted toward urging you into a counter-thrusting pattern. 

Each of those collisions seemed to strike at the very heart of you. The head of Vane’s length delivered a glancing blow to that sweet place inside of you every few strokes, and the pleasure was so intense that you found it impossible to keep supporting your weight on your shaking arms. You scarcely managed to lower yourself onto the sand-covered blanket rather than collapse weakly onto the lean padding. 

It was a pose even less dignified than your last, and yet it offered still more benefits. Your trembling arms were relieved of your weight, your lower position allowed you more leverage to spear yourself onto Vane, and - most importantly - the new angle meant that he ground against your most sensitive place with every stroke. 

You found yourself hanging over the edge in only moments. You were so close to utter joy, but you needed something more. “Vane, please. Touch me.” 

“I am,” he ground out.

It was a fair point. His large hands cupped against the curve of your hips, occasionally traveling upward to your waist or downward to your ass. Your breasts were doubly held away from him, by virtue of your binding cloth and the way they were pressed firmly into the sand. And the frantic closeness of your coupling denied him access to your clit.

And yet, despite all of the logical thoughts you could summon, you could only repeat, “Vane, please. I’m so close. Touch me. Please please, please.”

“You don’t know-” 

“Vane!” 

He slammed into you and you pushed forward, bunching the blanket in the sand. That was your first realization that he had pulled a hand from his bracing grip on your hips. There was no warning at all before the broad pad of his thumb had planted itself firmly between your cheeks, pressing down on your rear entrance. 

If you had thought your position undignified, this was far more so. That was forbidden, taboo, and dishonorable. Perhaps that was why you found it so thrilling. The feeling was new and unfamiliar, but certainly compelling.

Vane dug in harder. You realized that he was holding his thumb with the tip well away from that virgin loop of muscle. He was providing pressure without the risk of truly breaching you. 

Just as you were beginning to think that you would not object if he were to breach you, the combination of such overwhelming sensation combined into one glorious, blinding rush. You cried out, hoping fervently that you were alone on the remote beach. There was no other interpretation of that noise than a woman overwhelmed by pleasure.

When you locked down around him, Vane’s hands flew back to your hips. He held you as still as he could manage with your spasms, thrusting frantically into you as he bit back a litany of noises from between clenched teeth. Just as your pleasure was beginning to ebb, he pulled free and emptied himself onto the sand. 

Your opinion of this new position was high, and lifted still farther when Vane did not pull himself free before collapsing onto the sand. Your rear end was pressed into the hollow between his hips and thighs, his softening length buried inside of you. 

Your thoughts were drifting slowly through the empty expanse of your mind. You felt blissfully detached from your body until Vane gently brushed away a bead of sweat from your brow. You smiled, knowing he would see the expression from the curve of your cheek, and kissed his palm. You tugged his hand down then, cupping it to your still-bound breast. Vane did not seem to object to the layers of cloth between you, and settled into place with a drowsy sigh. 

He dropped into sleep almost immediately, and you followed closely behind. Your last conscious thought was that you could see the waves washing onto the sunset shore of Nassau through the torn canvas of Vane’s tent. He had truly found a small patch of paradise there, and you were honored to share it with him.

---

Author's Note - In case this is your first introduction to this particular pair, just be warned that this story was written as an homage to classic "bodice ripper"-style romance novels. Accordingly, Part Two is a little violent and Part One is very dubcon. Warnings are listed on individual chapters, but I don't want anyone blindsided.

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2024 #black sails #captain charles vane #charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane x you #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #spicy #lemon #not suitable for minors #minors dni

[squidwen]

Hitherto a post I made a while ago about making fanfictions from my OCs, I want to try my best to make a poll.

Note: By fanfic I do mean OC x reader

Vane, Billy, Ceridwen, Basil, Seth, Jonah, Tallis.

Tumblr doesn’t do polls (as far as I know) but comment below the name of the OC you’d like me to write about first.

Poll will end June 5th 2022.

(I haven’t done fan fics of my own OCs before so I want to start things off with one people want to see the most 😅😅)

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #squidwen #twst oc #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #basil balanaga #oc #vane millingwood #billy macurse #seth trent #tallis underplume #ceridwen chrisrides #Jonah Craggins

[therealmrsnevillelongbottom]

Just go with it...

Romilda Vane had set her sights on your poor cousin Harry but only because he was the ‘Chosen One’. Harry fortunately was handling it pretty well and managed to avoid her traps...like the box of chocolates laced with love potion (a very strong one apparently) in his dorm; thank Merlin for Ron’s bottomless appetite!

She soon noticed however that she wasn’t doing so well trying to get to Harry directly so she then seemed have made you a target, Hoping to get to Harry through you. You were just in the Gryffindor common room, minding your own business reading a book for Herbology when...

“Y/N!” called as she made her way across the common room and sat down on the other side of the table.

“Oh...hi Romilda. What do you want?” you asked with a hint of suspicion. She grinned.

“Do I need a reason to speak to you? I just thought I’d come over for a catch up” she said cheerfully.

She was never interested in you and your life before but by the was she was talking and acting you would think we were old friends that had lost contact!

“Well I’m fine thanks. Just busy with classes and homework, nothing interesting” you told her hoping that would be the end of this discussion but she pushed.

“Exactly, always classes and homework! It’s Saturday tomorrow and it’s a Hogsmeade weekend so how about we go together; it will be fun.” she offered and by the smug look on her face, she wasn’t expecting you to decline but you knew why she was wanting to hang out with you...

To get to Harry.

“Oh, that would be brilliant except that I...erm” you stuttered but started to panic and trying to think up an excuse of why you couldn’t go. Your eyes glanced around the room and saw a couple snogging on the spiral staircase leading up to the boys and girls dorms.

“I...erm..have a date” you said hoping she would mistake your hesitant tone for being shy about having a date.

She face faltered for a split second before it was replaced by a forced smile.

“Oh really? With who?” she said faking interest.

The panic started again. Who indeed?

Your eyes scanned the room again, saw the couple (who were still playing tonsil quidditch) and sitting at a table beside them was Neville Longbottom. Neville was deeply focused on his mimbulus mimbletonia, one of his hands was carefully pruning the plant while the other hand was resting on the table.

“Neville” you said as confidently as you could and hoping she would fall for it.

“Really?” she said but the way she said it made it sound like out of all the boys at Hogwarts...why him? This made you not like her even more...if that was possible.

“Yeah. In fact, I need to go over and have a quick word with him about our date. See you around.” you said, closing your book and making your way over to Neville and sitting in the chair across from him. Neville noticed you taking the seat across from him and sent you a small smile and a ‘hi’ before turning his attention back to his mimbulus mimbletonia.

“Just go with it” you muttered to him in a low voice.

“Huh?” said Neville, halting his work on the plant and now looking at you again with a confused expression. You could feel yourself losing your nerve with every passing second so you had to say it before it’s too late.

“Hi Neville, I was just wondering where you fancied going to first in Hogsmeade on our date tomorrow?” you said smiling and slowly putting your hand on his own that was resting on the table. Neville was shell shocked, with his mind trying to make sense of what you just said and if you actually said it or if he just imagined the whole thing. 

“What-”

With his focus gone he wasn’t paying attention, not long after he managed to get a word out and his hand that was tending to the plant in front of him slipped; resulting in him pocking the mimbulus mimbletonia. The rare plant’s defence mechanism activated and happened so quick; everyone was piling out of the room to get away from the smell and those who were close to you and Neville went to wash the stinksap off of themselves. Even Romilda Vane hadn’t stuck around to bother you which despite covered in the foul stinksap...you were more than fine with that.

“So, any ideas?” you said awkwardly before smiling.

After the initial shock...the situation was quite funny.

Neville still in a bit of shock merely answered.

“Could go to The Three Broomsticks; I think I need it after this” he said, a smile slowly making it’s way onto his face.

You giggled and replied.

“Yeah, same here”.

#neville longbottom #hogwarts #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom x you #herbology #Neville is herbology king #Neville is so sweet and lovely #neville is a true gryffindor #gryffindor #harry potter #romilda vane #mimbulus mimbletonia #stinksap

[the-house-of-auditore-frye]

So I want to apologise in advance for the thirst posts of Charles Vane from AC4 that are going to appear in your dashboard. Please don't be startled if a bunch of posts thirsting over a pirate appear😅

#charles vane #Charles Vane AC4 #charles vane x reader #ac4 #ac4 black flag #assassin's creed #assassin's creed black flag #assassin's creed iv: black flag #assassin's creed 4 #charles vane ac4

[safination]

Partners in Death…and Life

Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself

| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3 Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down. *Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*

Flick…

Flick…

Flick…

Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.

The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.

Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.

The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.

An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.

(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)

Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.

You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.

Ad about some impish business—Not interested.

‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.

Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.

Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.

The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.

Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.

A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.

Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink.  Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door.  Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.

Another blink.

 Huh…you’re on the bus.

The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.

You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…

Hmmmmm.

It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?

Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.

Turns out, you don’t even need the address.

The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.

The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.

You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?

“Excuuussseeeee me.”

A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.

“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.

“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”

You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”

His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.

You follow in silence.

The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.

Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”

His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”

You give him your name “….Doctor.”

“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”

“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”

The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”

One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.

You wave back.

Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.

Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.

Your smile strains after a minute of banging.

A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.

Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”

A punch to the face is his reply.

“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”

This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”

“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.

“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”

“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”

Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.

Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.

No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered.  Would Alastor stay in such a place?

You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.

“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous.  “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”

You do not shed.

You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”

Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”

“None taken,” you say, dryly.

Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.

You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.

Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”

Vaggie calms her down.

The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.

You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not.”

 “Good.”

You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.

The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”

Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”

“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”

Husk doesn’t answer you.

Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”

Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”

“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.

“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.

She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.

You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”

Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”

 “Maybe next ti—”

Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”

Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.

He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.

You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”

You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”

Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”

You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”

“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.

“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”

His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”

“I think you mean the good nurse.”

“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”

“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”

“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”

A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”

A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?

“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art

“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”

And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here

Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.

“You have such beautiful handiwork.”

“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”

“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”

You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”

Alastor is following you.

The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.

You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.

His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”

You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”

He takes the bottle from you.

“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”

Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”

“That is because I am.”

Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.

You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”

He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.

“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display

Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”

“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”

Alastor continues to follow.  “Do you often aid your father in his work?”

“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”

“Such interesting hobbies you have.”

You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”

You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.

You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”

He nods, smiling at you.

You smile back.

Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”

“Partners,” you say

“Friends,” Alastor says

Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.

Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”

“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”

More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.

Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”

Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.

Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)

You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.

Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”

 “My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.

Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.

The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.

Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.

“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”

Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”

“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”

“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”

Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”

Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.

 “Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”

Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.

Soft static fills the kitchen air.

“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”

Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?

Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”

“Er…yes?”

You open a random cabinet door, and huh…

On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.

Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.

Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.

Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.

“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.

You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.

Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”

“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”

He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”

Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”

Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”

“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”

Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”

Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.

The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.

Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.

Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.

Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.

“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”

Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”

Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”

Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman.  Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.

He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.

There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.

Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—

You slap him.

Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.

The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.

You slap him again, staring down at him.

“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.

You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”

His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh

“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”

Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.

Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him. 

“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”

“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”

“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.

You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”

It’s his silence that makes you turn away. 

“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”

You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.) 

Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”

You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.

Alastor does not answer you.

“Will you just stay silent every time?”

“Yes.”

Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However,  I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”

There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”

“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”

Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”

You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”

“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread.  He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."

You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”

“Indeed.”

You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.

“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.

He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”

“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”

Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.

“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”

“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”

You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.” 

You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.

“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”

Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”

You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”

His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”

“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”

A knock breaks the moment.

The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.

“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”

“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”

Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”

You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”

Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.

The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.

There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.

Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”

Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”

“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”

“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”

Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”

Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”

From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”

Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.

“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”

Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”

“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”

“Not at all, my love.”

“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.

“Much better?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you say, softly.

“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.

“Good.”

Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.

That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”

“Of course.”

“See to it that you keep your word.”

The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.

You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.

Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.

‘First, do no harm’

But this…this does not harm a single living being.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

If you guys know who Olivia and Stolar are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair. Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..." But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known. My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.

#alastor x reader #Alastor x wife!reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin Hotel imagines #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin Hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x wife reader

[lizthewriter]

hii! so first of all, i LOVE your work and your writing style so much. so i was reading your last theo nott drabble and an idea came to my mind: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

A/N I'm so sorry this took me forever to write 😭. I've started college and boy is it overwhelming. Well! Here's part one to your request ehehe *burnt out* I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for showing support anon, I really appreciate it! If you guys get this to 1250 notes, I will prioritze part two <3

you make me jealous / theodore nott

PAIRING  Theodore Nott x fem!Reader

SUMMARY  part one in an upcoming series. you and theo have been flirting with each other for months, but neither of you have made a move. you don't want to be just another girl for theo, and theo's to afraid to commit to a relationship with the most amazing girl in the world, afraid that he'll eventually break your heart. you get confronted at a party and an argument ensues.

TAGS  Theodore Nott x reader, mean!theo, jealous!theo, theo is kind of a dick here, sorry babes 🤷‍♀️, mutual pining, parties, underage drinking, ginny is a good bro, ron is a good bro, reader is not gryffindor, angst

"I'm so chill, but you make me jealous," - So it Goes . . . by Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT  1.3K

WRITTEN  2023.09.13

You could feel Theo's eyes burning through your dress as soon as you entered the room, but you were sure to absolutely avoid any eye contact with him. Tonight's mission was simple: break him. You and Theo had an interesting little dynamic, that was for certain. You had spent months flirting with each other - smooth lines that had you blushing, "accidental" caresses that made Theo ache for more of you, almost-kisses that haunted both of your daydreams. Oh yes, the two of you were smitten for one another. There was just one small, tiny little problem. Theodore was spoiled rotten. He was so used to girl's plopping themselves in his lap and vying so desperately for his attention. He was so accustomed to this, in fact, that he went through girls like toilet paper. One week he's chatting up Romilda Vane in the corridors and the next week it's Tracey Davis, and so on and so on. You didn't want to be just another girl, you wanted to make him work for you. Still, that didn't mean you couldn't nudge him in the right direction.

You don't know what miracle Merlin had pulled in the afterlife, but he had somehow lsitened to your prayers and granted you the perfect opportunity to piss off Theo. The Gryffindors were holding a themed party where all the attenders must dress as someone from a different house. You, of course utlizied your connections and talked with your very dear friend Ginny. You had decided to borrow the letterman jacket she had gotten as a member of the Quidditch and, even better, had asked her to act a bit more friendly towards you than usual.

The music in Gryffindor Tower boomed so loudly that you practically feel the beat vibrating in your chest.You descended the stairs, dressed in a tight golden dress with the burgundy jacket swung over your shoulders, the word WEASLEY spelled prominently on the back of it. One arm was intertwined with Ginny's, the other raised so that your hand could fix up your hair. Ginny's arm was wrapped around your waist as she lead you down the stairs, and as soon as her friends looked up, they all let out a roar. Seamus and Ron came over, harking on about some drinking game ans begging the two of you to join. Ron would usually take the piss if he saw someone with Ginny, but you and her had informed him of what was really going on, so he wasn't in a mood at all.

"Come on, Dean's just told us about it, it's called Beer Pong," Seamus told the two of you, leading you to a table with plastic cups aligned in the shape of a triangle at each end. He handed you a ball and explained how it worked. "You and Ginny are on Harry and Ron's team, that's this end of the table, and me, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati are over here. Now, you're gonna throw this ball and try to get it into one of our cups. If the ball lands in the cup, someone from my team has to drink whatever's in thay cup. Whoever has no cups leftover in the end loses, yeah?"

You glanced towards Theo, standing in a dark corner with a few of his Slytherin friends. The drink he held in his hand was hovering near his face, his eyes dark as he watched your every movement, while his friends were having a lively chat. You grinned and turned back to the others, standing right in front of the edge of the table. Ron and Harry started to cheer for you, Ginny ran a hand down your side. You sent a small smile your way before tossing the ball down the tablez landing it right in the first cup. The other team groaned and Seamus downed the alcohol, tossing the cup to the side.

The game went on for quite some time - your team had won, but only just. Ron had drank most of the alcohol and was now flirting very obviously with Hermione, who seemed unsure of whether to continue studying or listen to him. As a new song came on, Ginny pulled on your hand, dragging you to the crowd of the dancing bodies.

"Come on!" She exclaimed over the loud music. "I promise, he'll be mad once he sees us dancing together!" She grabbed your arms and threw them around her neck, her hair swaying as she nodded her head to the beat. You danced with her, your faces so close to one another that you could feel yourselves sharing the hot breath that left your mouths. Ginny glanced at something behind you and said, "He hasn't done anything the entire night, he's just been standing there. I think he needs a little more motivation."

Something mischievous twinkled in Ginny's eyes - you narrowed your own at her. "Just what exactly are you thinking, Ginerva?"

Ginny scoffed, a wide grin forming on her face. "Did you seriously just call me by my full name?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I don't like that look on your face."

Ginny rested her hands on your waist, swaying her hips in unison with yours, bringing her face close to you. "I promise if you kiss me, he'll do something about it." She rushedly added, "I won't do anything if you don't want to though, it was just an idea."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating the idea. Ginny wasn't necessarily wrong, it was a pretty good idea and would probably get some sort of rise out of Theo. You glanced back at her with assured eyes, asking, "Is he looking at us now?"

"Yeah, why -"

"Good," you responded, smashing your lips against Ginny's. It didn't feel like anything you've felt with anyone before - no butterflies blossoming in your stomach, no fuzziness growing in your head, just lips against lips. You pulled away suddenly, looking at Ginny with wide eyes. "Sorry!" You exclaimed, now thinking you should have asked her if it was okay before kissing her. But she wasn't looking at you.

You turned to look at what she was smirking at and found Theo marching over to you, drink in his hand discarded. You turned to look back at Ginny, but she had disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the fallout. When you turned back, he was standing in front of you.

"I know what you're doing," Theo said, his breath erratic and not at all uniform. You smirked up at him, stepping closer so that your head was practically meeting his chest. Your fingers crawled up his arms and you watched his reaction.

"And what exactly am I doing, Theo?" He scoffed and glanced away. He said nothing, causing you to frown. You grabbed his chin with your hand, turning his head so that your eyes met again. "Come on, say it."

"You're trying to make me jealous!" He exclaimed angrily. "Waltzing around on her arm, kissing her, when we both know that you don't even like her like that."

"And why wouldn't I like her, Nott?"

"Because you're supposed to like me!" He huffed, his arms raised like a petulant child. "What, you're going to pretend as though you haven't spend months flirting with me?"

"Are you?" You returned with a raised eyebrow, taking a step forward. "Don't pretend as though you didn't have your tounge down Daphne Greengrass' throat only three days ago!"

"I don't care about her, I care about you!" He shouted back.

"Then prove it! And that's not an invitation for you to kiss me, that's me asking you to show me you really do care about me."

"Fine then! I will!"

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ] #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #hp

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Two)

Summary: Din and (Y/N) try and ultimately fail to repair IG-11 and after a discouraging visit to a droidsmith's workshop, they decide that their best chance at repairing the loyal droid lay with Peli Motto.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: So, how did you guys like the season finale? I thought it was pretty good and it gave me lots of ideas for the future of this fic lol but until then, we’re still on Nevarro for the moment. Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Two The Droid (Previous Chapter)

“If I knew that you were this skilled at rewiring I would’ve had you work on the Razor Crest much more often,” Din remarked as he worked alongside (Y/N) to repair IG-11; there wasn’t much of the droid left in the wake of its self-destruction to work on, but the wiring was complex and thanks to his wife’s precise touch, she could handle even the most delicate wires without inadvertently damaging them more than they already were.

(Y/N) smiled but kept her eyes focused on her work. “Just like a bounty hunter to suggest that. Would you have had me clean your weapons and carbon-freeze all your bounties for you, too?”

“Perhaps it’s better that you stuck to flying the ship; I hear that smugglers tend to think that anything outside of piloting is too taxing on them.”

His wife glanced away from her soldering long enough to give him a playful glare and as she went back to work, she mumbled under her breath, “Keep talking like that, and I might just have to put a stop to our usual nighttime activities; you know, since apparently anything outside of piloting is too taxing on me.”

Beneath his helmet, Din smirked at the captain’s teasing threat. “Mir’sheb.” While they both started to finish repairing the droid’s wiring, his smile slowly faded and he was filled with a familiar sense of guilt.

Their honeymoon on Naboo had been an absolute dream; they spent their days playing with Grogu and exploring the Lake Country of (Y/N)’s beloved homeworld, and their nights were spent locked in each other’s passionate embrace. But, as with all dreams, it came to an end when Din decided to seek out the Living Waters and atone for his transgression against the Creed. He felt guilty enough as he explained his plan to his wife, but his guilt compounded when she readily agreed and he spotted the quick flash of disappointment in her eyes before she could hide it. (Y/N) had lived a life that was nothing short of traumatic; she never knew her father, she’d lost her mother and was forced to flee her homeworld of Naboo when she was only twelve, she spent her adolescence engulfed in the dangerous life of a smuggler, and she’d witnessed the horrors of war firsthand as she worked to save thousands of lives on behalf of the Rebellion. If anyone was deserving of peace, it was her and yet, she chose to marry a Mandalorian apostate and become the co-caregiver to a powerful Force-wielding foundling. One day I’ll earn the love and trust she’s given me, he silently vowed as he studied her beautiful features, and one day she’ll have the peace she’s always desired but never truly experienced.

“There,” (Y/N) straightened and set down her soldering gun before removing her safety goggles and wiping the sweat off her brow. “He’s hooked up to power.”

“Let’s see if we can wake him up.” Din leaned past Grogu, who stood on the work table and had watched their progress with curious eyes, and held two exposed wires together until they finally sparked and smoked; when IG-11 remained motionless, Greef shot him a knowing look but Din remained hopeful that the droid would wake. After a tense moment, the droid’s hand began to twitch and his lights flickered on as he started to sit up, and Din started to smile underneath his helmet.

The High Magistrate chuckled in amazement. “There you go!”

(Y/N) beamed and Grogu let out a delighted coo as IG-11 struggled to speak. “Sub-paragraph sixteen-teen-teen…of t-the Bondsman Guild protocol w-waiver…” Din froze and his heart hammered in his chest as the droid’s familiar words. “Immediately produce said…the bounty is mine. Asset to be terminated.”

IG-11’s lights turned red and he lunged towards Grogu, but Din quickly scooped the child up into his arms and backed away; the droid rolled itself onto the ground and started to crawl towards them, and Din was forced to draw his blaster and fire. The blaster fire did nothing to deter IG-11, so he looked up and over at (Y/N). “Alor’ad!”

(Y/N) held her arms out and caught Grogu after Din tossed him across the room, cradling the child against her chest and drawing her own blaster as IG-11 started crawling in her direction. Greef wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her backwards as he shouted, “Mando, shoot it! Shoot it!”

Din and (Y/N)’s blaster fire started to slow the droid down, but it wasn’t until Greef’s protocol droid shoved a metallic bust of its master onto IG-11’s head that the droid finally shut down for good. The three of them breathed a sigh of relief and Din holstered his blaster with a weary shrug. “Now that’s using your head.”

His wife groaned at his terrible joke and shook her head in exasperation before giving the protocol droid a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“I think he defaulted to his old programming…”

Greef huffed out a humorless laugh. “You think? Come, I may have a solution to your problem…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s still a chance we could bypass IG-11’s old programming and rewire his circuitry,” (Y/N) remarked as she handed Grogu a piece of candy. The three of them walked down one of Nevarro’s less crowded streets, with Din pushing a hover-cart piled high with the droid’s parts and Grogu seated next to them and both Greef and (Y/N) walking alongside it. “It’ll be a two-person job, of course. One doing the rewiring while the other prepares to smash its head in just in case…”

“That’s too big a job for you two to do by yourself.” Greef gestured at the city surrounding them and smiled. “Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droidsmiths of the Outer Rim; they’ll have IG back to his old self in no time!”

Beneath his helmet, Din grimaced in doubt. “Are you sure they’re up for it? I don’t think we can handle him with all his limbs if things go scud.”

“Why don’t you ask ‘em for yourself?”

Din frowned and glanced around the empty street. “Who?”

“The Anzellans.”

(Y/N) nudged Din’s arm and gestured to the base of the building beside them; there were two doors, one small and one slightly larger, and standing outside of the smaller door was a grumbling Anzellan with safety goggles resting on his wrinkled head. “Whadda want?”

Greef took a knee – careful not to get too much dirt on his High Magistrate robes – and pointed to the hover-cart. “Could you take a look at my friends’ droid and see if you can’t fix it?”

“C’mon, c’mon,” The Anzellan pointed to the larger door before disappearing back into the building.

Shrugging, (Y/N) got down onto the ground and crawled into the droidsmith’s workshop and as Grogu hopped down to follow, Din shot Greef a look; the High Magistrate simply shrugged and nodded towards the opening. “I promise you, these are the best droidsmiths that money can buy. Just give ‘em a chance, hey, Mando?”

Din heaved a sigh but relented, crawling into the workshop after his wife and foundling and doing his best to sit comfortably in the cramped space while Greef shoved the remains of IG-11 in for the Anzellans to examine. While they waited for the crew of droidsmiths to finish with their assessment, (Y/N) pulled out the knapsack she was making for Grogu and worked some more on it and Grogu, unused to seeing creatures that were his own size, watched the Anzellans work with unabashed fascination in his wide eyes.

After several minutes of unsuccessful soldering, the head droidsmith shook his tiny head in disappointment. “No. Can’t fix. No, no, no. The broken.”

“…Um, okay…”

“The broken. It broke.”

Din sighed. “I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?”

“Mando, he said he can’t fix it,” Greef called out from his spot at the workshop’s entrance.

“That’s no good, I need this one.” He pointed at the droid’s remains and then back at himself. “This one’s my friend.”

The Anzellan merely shook his head. “It no friend anymore. Memory circuit broken.”

“He says the memory circuit is shot!”

(Y/N) scooted forward and gave the head droidsmith a patient smile. “Can you put a new one in?”

“No, no, no, no. Not work,” The Anzellan declared and the other droidsmiths chattered in agreement. “Don’t make new one. Very hard to find.”

“He said they don’t make ‘em anymore! They’re very hard to find!”

Din’s jaw clenched in annoyance at Greef’s translation. “I got it.”

“Buy new droid, this one poodoo.” The droidsmiths all burst into laughter.

As (Y/N)’s hand gave the unarmored part of his arm a gentle squeeze of support, Din asked through gritted teeth, “Can you fix it without the memory circuit?”

“Yes, but IG no think.”

A sudden thought came to Din’s mind and after considering it for a moment, he followed the Anzellan’s statement with another question. “What if we find you the part?”

The lead droidsmith nodded. “Okay, now. Then no problem. We fix.”

(Y/N) was smiling as she turned to face Din. “You’re thinking of paying Peli a visit, aren’t you?”

“If anyone’s got an IG memory circuit, it’s her.” He rested his gloved hand atop hers and nodded. “We’ll visit her after we go to Kalevala-”

“No! No! No! No! No!” They quickly looked over to see Grogu pulling the lead droidsmith into a tight hug. “No, down, down!”

Din stretched an arm out across the workshop to separate the two. “No, Grogu, he’s not a pet.”

“No, squeezie, not squeeze! Not squeeze!” When Din set the droidsmith down away from the child’s eager arms, he shook his head and scolded, “Bad baby! Oh, he’s a bad baby!”

The captain winced and gave the Anzellan an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. He’s young.”

“Bad baby, bad baby.” Grogu waited for a beat before lunging at the screaming Anzellan again. “Oh!”

“No, Grogu!” Both Din and (Y/N) reached out to grab the overexcited foundling and once he was safely nestled in (Y/N)’s arms, he finally started to relax his tense shoulders; after a quick trip to see an old friend on Tatooine, IG-11 would be back online in no time and they’d finally be ready to visit Mandalore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, Greef watched as Din and (Y/N) climbed up into the starship and prepared for take-off. “We hope to see you three back here soon.”

“Keep IG-11 safe until we get back with that part,” Din requested as the captain input their coordinates for Kalevala.

The High Magistrate nodded but remained unconvinced of their plan. “If the Anzellans can’t find it, I don’t know who can.”

“Usually I’d agree, but I wouldn’t bet against Peli Motto,” (Y/N) remarked with a bright smile. “It was good to see you again, High Magistrate.”

Greef returned her grin with one of his own. “Safe travels.”

After sliding the windshield into place overhead, (Y/N) powered up the starfighter’s engines and eased the ship up into the clear blue sky. “All right, next stop: Bo-Katan.” They exited Nevarro’s upper atmosphere and the lights illuminating the ship’s dashboard began to flicker. “Dank farrik…” She gave the dashboard a light smack to fix it and chuckled as Grogu crawled into her lap with an inquisitive coo. “It’s okay, little guy, sometimes a planet’s atmosphere messes with a ship’s power. Our maps and charts are still functioning, so we’re good!”

“Being a Mandalorian’s not just learning about how to fight,” Din commented, resting one hand on his wife’s side and rubbing the child’s large ear with the other. “You also have to know how to navigate the galaxy, because you never know where you might be headed next.”

Grogu babbled in interest and looked between them both as (Y/N) began pointing at the various indicators on the ship’s dashboard. “This here’s your hyperspace map; you see how it shows the asteroid field we’re flying past? You determine your range by looking at your fuel gage, that’s right over here. And this-” An alarm began to blare and the cockpit was lit up with a red warning light. “Is your enemy proximity warning indicator.”

Din’s brow furrowed as he glanced around the empty space surrounding their starfighter and spotted the three snubfighters approaching from behind. “Hang on, kid, we got pirates…”

“Avast, Mandalorian!” The familiar voice of Vane the Nikto came through their ship’s communication radio. “You can’t just sneak away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood. We’re Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men, now you’ll answer to him.”

(Y/N) rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers in preparation before taking hold of the starship’s controls and replying, “Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming.” Grogu slipped under the captain’s satchel strap and without warning, (Y/N) jerked the controls to send them shooting off into the nearby asteroid field.

Although he trusted (Y/N)’s piloting skills and had witnessed her pull off some remarkable flying in the past, he sat back and anxiously watched his wife dodge asteroids as the three pirates began firing at them. She steered the ship into a rapid corkscrew spin, and Din was forced to hold a giggling Grogu down to prevent him from falling out of his makeshift seat-belt; the three pirates continued their pursuit through the floating asteroids and as she smoothly exited the turning maneuver, the enemy proximity warning indicator sounded off while three more pirate ships approached from the side.

“Three more…” (Y/N) murmured under her breath but if anything, she sounded almost bored by the pirates’ attempt to lure her into a dogfight. Another sharp jerk of the controls sent them darting around more asteroids and after ducking under a particularly large one, she bent down to press a quick kiss onto Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Hold on tight, little guy.” She flipped the starfighter upside-down and sped over the top of the asteroid, firing at the unsuspecting pirates and managing to hit one of them, flying further into the asteroid field as the ship crashed into another asteroid and exploded. The five remaining pirate ships pursued them but with the dexterity of a true smuggler, (Y/N) maneuvered the starship behind a sizable asteroid without them noticing and waited for one to pass by before shooting it down.

“Head for that asteroid due east, it’s got a hollowed-out center,” Din suggested as he pointed to the asteroid floating in the distance.

(Y/N) sped off in its direction and flew the ship through the hollowed-out center, coming out of its other end just in time to shoot down a third pirate ship as it flew past. “Good call, sweetheart!” Twisting the controls to the side, the captain spun the ship around an asteroid and appeared behind the remaining three pirate ships, managing to shoot two of them down and race after the final ship but before she could shoot it, they came out of the asteroid field and were met with the sight of an enormous Cumulus Class Corsair before them. “Dank farrik,” (Y/N) cursed and Din’s eyes widened when he noticed the starship’s guns all pointed at their starfighter. “They’ve got a target lock on us…”

“Stop where you are, Pilot,” A grizzled voice came through the communication radio. “You’re outgunned.”

(Y/N) shifted in her seat but calmly replied, “It’s ‘Captain,’ actually.”

“Ah, Captain (Y/L/N), I might’ve known it was you!” Din’s brows shot up in surprise but he remained silent as the voice continued. “Turning your back on the smuggling life only to take up arms with a Mandalorian, I see.”

“We have no quarrel with you, Gorian Shard.”

“Ha! What a kind sentiment from a woman who just destroyed five of my fighters. Surrender your ship, and I will spare your lives…for old time’s sake.”

Din didn’t have to see his wife’s face to tell that she was rolling her eyes at the Pirate King’s offer. “Little guy?” Grogu cooed in interest as she flipped the cover off the Kineso-switch. “Never trust a pirate.”

With a push of the button, the starfighter shot off into space and past the Pirate King’s starship; while the child giggled in delight, she finished charting their course and launched them into hyperspace. “Well, that was exciting,” Din remarked with a proud smile, removing his helmet so that he could press kisses along her temple and down her cheek. “So, you had dealings with the Pirate King while you were a smuggler?”

“Only a handful, but Gorian Shard’s unpleasantness makes them pretty hard to forget.” (Y/N) took his helmet and held it upside-down so that Grogu could crawl inside, then turned her head to finally meet his gaze. “And apparently, I must’ve made quite the impression on him back in the day, otherwise he never would’ve remembered a scrappy smuggler like me.”

Din smiled at that. “You underestimate yourself, alor’ad. Everything about you, from your expert piloting skills down to your beautiful features, makes it impossible for one not to forget you. And speaking of your piloting skills, I’d happily show you just how much I admired them if we were alone right now.”

The captain grinned and kissed him as her fingers threaded through his hair, and she smiled against his lips when she finally pulled away. “In that case, can I possibly get a rain-check on that offer?”

“Mm-hmm,” He hummed and gave her another sweet kiss. “You can have whatever you want, alor’ad.”

While the starfighter traveled through the peaceful and quiet hyperspace and Grogu napped in his father’s beskar helmet, Din and (Y/N) spent their brief moments of calm engulfed in a world all their own, engaging in murmured conversation interspersed with plenty of kisses. It wasn’t much, of course, but it was time spent that Din cherished with all his heart, even more so as they came even closer to completing their newest mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Kalevala,” Din spoke to Grogu as (Y/N) piloted the starfighter through the planet’s cloudy skies, smiling to himself when the child babbled in interest from his compartment in the back. “It’s another planet in the Mandalorian system, and that is a Mandalorian castle.”

(Y/N) whistled lowly as the grand Mandalorian castle perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean grew closer. “And here I thought my people were the dramatic ones when it comes to architecture…”

The starfighter lowered gracefully onto the castle’s landing pad and once the engines switched off, the windshield slid open and they were both pelted with rain as they climbed down. After releasing Grogu’s pram from his compartment, they walked up the stone steps and past a footman droid, entering the eerily silent castle and making their way down the main hall. Bo-Katan Kryze lounged across her throne, her expression blasé and almost disconnected as she looked away from the nearby window to fix their trio with a stare.

Din anxiously wet his lips before calling out, “Bo-Katan. It is Din Djarin and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” They came to a stop before her throne’s dais. “We are here to join you.”

Bo-Katan’s expression didn’t change. “There’s nothing left to join.”

“What of your plans to retake Mandalore?” (Y/N) asked in confusion as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away.”

With a slight sense of guilt, Din exchanged a brief look with the captain standing beside him before glancing back up at the somber Mandalorian. “Where is the stolen fleet?”

“Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries,” Bo-Katan replied, her eyes flicking over his form as she continued. “Do you still have the saber?”

“I do.”

“Then you lead them. Wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.”

Din weighed his next words carefully. “So, you gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?”

The Mandalorian’s eyes hardened. “Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge. Where were you then?”

“Are you seriously blaming my husband for a massacre that happened when he was only a foundling?” (Y/N) demanded, her (Y/E/C) eyes filling with a dangerous gleam as she stepped forward. “Perhaps you should reflect on the failures of your homeworld’s leadership before placing the mark of blame on others.”

Bo-Katan hardly flinched at (Y/N)’s scathing retort. “The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people. No matter what conclusions can be drawn about my family’s leadership of Mandalore, Captain (Y/L/N), that remains an unmovable fact. Go home. There’s nothing left.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched but Din spoke up before she could. “We are going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions.”

“You are a fool,” She shook her head in derision. “There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore; they supplied beskar ore to our ancestors and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered and poisoned.”

“You said that the curse was a lie,” Din countered, his own irritation beginning to rise. “Make up your mind.”

Bo-Katan took a deep breath. “If you want to go to the mines, be my guest. They’re beneath the Civic Center in the city of Sundari.”

“Thank you.” Din placed a hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back and nodded. “And we will find out of the planet is really poisoned.”

They turned and as they walked back down the main hall, Din’s hand drifted down to slip into (Y/N)’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they walked out into the pelting rain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mando’a Translations:

Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Alor’ad-Captain

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Thirty-Three

Taking Care of Business Masterlist  

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @elinedjarin​ @itsnottilly​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovy-lady​ @impala1967666​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #baby yoda #greef karga #ig-11 #bo katan kryze #vane #star wars #din djarin x f!reader

[phenomenal1500]

Now I’m finally almost done editing The Azblida | the 100 fic, I will start giving The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails a new story and writing style! I’m so excited to finally update it to my new writing abilities.

#black sails #charles vane x reader #charles vane x oc #oc #charles vane #captain charles vane #pirates #captain flint #James flint #the blood in my veins #Naida Jones

[somedaylazysomeday]

Masterlist

While I'm still struggling to get individual works to show up in the tags, I think my shadowban may have been lifted. So here's the link to my updated masterlist:

SomedayLazySomeday's Masterlist

My fics are explicit and the vast majority contain sexual content. Use caution and mind the tags!

Speaking of tags! I'm tagging some of the characters and pairings I've written for below. Feel free to ask questions!

#ink's fics #jango fett #jango fett x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #commander fox #commander fox x reader #charles vane #charles vane x reader #crosshair #crosshair x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #commander cody #commander cody x reader #boba fett #boba fett x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #elvenking thranduil #thranduil x reader #wrecker #wrecker x reader #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #viktor #viktor x reader #negan

[squidwen]

Question…

Would anyone be interested in a fic with MC/reader x my OCs (Vane, Billy, Ceridwen, Basil, Seth, Jonah, and Tallis)? Drop me an ask if you do and/or have a particular scenario request. xx

OC master list can be found here.

Vane: *hides*

Billy: *sharpens axe*

Ceridwen: *says a prayer*

Basil: *winks*

Seth: *rolls eyes*

Jonah: *continues tinkering*

Tallis:

Art is by the brilliant @i-alone-on-pluto (aka CloudMallow).

#twst #squidwen #twst oc #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #reader x twisted wonderland #vane millingwood #basil balanaga #billy macurse #ceridwen christides #tallis underplume #jonah craggins #seth trent #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Silence Quite This Loud]

(gif by me)

Vanessa started to distance herself after you confessed your feelings to her, the pain in your heart is becoming too much to handle. Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Fluff, Mentions of First Kiss/Confessions, Mike being a precious best friend(mike x reader if you squint), Vanessa being stupid, Animatronics doing their best Warnings: Split Personality v̶̞͍̔a̸̮͂̈́͘ǹ̸̝̿ṅ̴̦͛̓y̷̩̞̾̓̚ (heavily implied) WC: 2,419

(Freddy Fazbear's is still open in the day in this fic!)

You had been invited to a friend of a friend's party... You weren't exactly thrilled considering you would barely know anybody there, but your friend had bugged you all week encouraging you to go. She ensured that you would know a couple people.

So, begrudgingly, you agreed. You weren't too excited about going to Freddy Fazbear's during the day considering you already worked the night shift there, though. Why they wanted to rent out Freddy's of all places for an afternoon was beyond you, but you decided to suck it up.

You'd been holed up in your apartment for the past few weeks now, sulking in your own emotions. You had confessed how you felt to Vanessa at the end of one of your night shifts. The longing touches and looks were confirmation enough for you to know that she felt the same... Hell, you had even shared a drunken kiss a couple days beforehand.

So why had she rejected you?

Your heart ached to know, but she had stopped showing up to your night shifts and stopped responding to your calls so there was no way to even ask her. You hadn't seen her in almost three months now. A part of you didn't even want to talk to her anyways. You were hurt and angry at her silence, you felt as if she didn't care about you or or your feelings... So you shook your head and decided to brush her away from your mind.

With a sigh, you threw on some fancy(ish) clothes and headed for the door, perhaps this party would be a good distraction? It would be nice to get out and mingle.

Okay, maybe the party wasn't a good idea.

There was an extreme amount of people crowding the room. You felt extremely out of place.

Your friend had greeted you and seemed excited to have you, before she was unwillingly dragged away by a group of people who were already one too many drinks in. You bit your lip awkwardly and shifted your feet.

Now you were standing alone in a crowded room, simply looking around. That's when you locked eyes on a certain someone. Why the hell was she here?

Vanessa.

She was currently sitting at one of the many tables chatting away with some people you'd never seen before.

Your palms became sweaty as your balled your fists. Your heart beat quickly as you tried to decide whether or not to talk to her.

But before you could, another familiar face came into view as they tapped you on the shoulder.

"Oh, thank god you're here," your fists unclenched as a wave of relief washed over you.

"If you were in love with me you could've just said."

You rolled your eyes.

Mike knew you were in love with Vanessa, he had teased you about it constantly for the past few months now. He also knew that Vanessa reciprocated those feelings.

"Couldn't leave my favourite co-worker all alone," he smiled.

"I'm your only co-worker," you rolled your eyes.

The two of you made your way through the room, in search of empty seats. Your eyes landed on a particular blonde once again as passed by her table.

The pain in your heart quickly returned again, you couldn't stop the frown from appearing on your face.

Vanessa had froze upon seeing you pass, but she made no effort to get up and greet you so you turned your head.

"Hey, 'Nessa!" Mike exclaimed. You almost bumped into the back of him as he stopped, "Didn't expect to see you here."

She cleared her throat, "Er... Yeah... Friend of a friend of a friend invited me," she said, doing her best to look anywhere but in your direction.

Mike started to introduce himself to Vanessa's friends(?).

Vanessa could only stop herself from looking away from you for so long. The silence between the two of you was loud in your ears, the chatters and laughs from the people around you were almost deafened as you couldn't help but search Vanessa's eyes. You started to play with a loose thread on your sleeve, feeling slightly nervous.

You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, so you pushed past Mike to quickly find an empty seat far away from Vanessa. Mike looked between Vanessa and you in confusion before he quickly excused himself to follow you.

"Hey, hey, what's the rush?" he asked. You both found a small table free to the side of the main stage.

"Nothing. Just wanted to find a spot to sit before everywhere was taken," you mumbled as you focused on the animatronics dancing on the stage.

"Come on, Y/N," he said with genuine concern, "I know you. Something's got you down."

You couldn't help but glance over towards Vanessa in the distance again. Mike noticed.

"Something up with you two?"

You groaned in frustration before banging your head on the table.

"I'll take that as a yes-"

You cut him off, "I told her."

His eyes widened as a grin appeared on his face, "Finally!" he chanted, "I've been waiting for way too long for this to happen."

Your head remained on the table...

His smile dropped, "I'm guessing it didn't go well..."

You felt the need to rant suddenly surface as you lifted your head, "Why is she acting like this? She's stopped speaking to me and she's pretending as if there's nothing between us when there clearly is!"

"I did notice that she hasn't stopped by on our night shifts in quite a while now."

You sighed, feeling sadness wash over you - the exact opposite feeling you wanted tonight, "We kissed... We were both a bit tipsy but she never said she regretted it. So I told her how I felt when she stopped by on my shift a few days after. And she kind of just... Excused herself and left. Haven't spoken since. It's been almost two months now."

He almost couldn't believe what you were saying, "Three months? Seriously?"

You nodded as your lip quivered.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Something must be up with her. She's head over heels for you, Y/N. Told me herself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I didn't wanna be the one to break the news to you, though. That was on her."

You shook your head in disbelief, "Then why is she doing this to me? It's killing me. I've never felt like this before, Mike. I never thought I would miss someone so much."

Your mind searched for the memories of the countless nights of you and Vanessa making silly forts with the animatronics, cuddling amongst the pillows and blankets as you told each other stories. All those stares that lasted way too long or those soft squeezes you would both do on each others arms... Definitely platonic.

"Only way to know is to ask her."

"She clearly wants nothing to do with me," you noticed that your voice started to crack, tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"You deserve closure, Y/N... At least try, okay? I want the best for you."

Mike had eventually gone off to mingle, introducing himself to the birthday girl (who was also one too many drinks in). You were left near the stage, watching the animatronics perform. They kept on glancing at you, you could tell they were concerned and worried for you. You had vented and confided in them on many of your night shifts after Vanessa stopped talking to you.

Bonnie had started to point his hand over towards Vanessa, encouraging you to go and talk to her.

Your nerves were definitely getting to you. You had been glancing at Vanessa every so often for the past hour now, and not once had she looked back at you. You felt as if she was purposefully trying her hardest to ignore you.

You decided to take one final... and surprisingly Vanessa had finally turned to look at you in return.

You could see her sigh as she looked away before she nodded at her friends and stood up. Your heart pounded in your chest in anticipation. You weren't sure if you wanted her to come over or not... But you didn't really have a choice in the matter as the blonde slowly made her way towards you.

She took the spare seat next to see and sat down with a sigh.

"Fancy seeing you here..." you muttered, your eyes still focusing on the animatronics in front of you.

Vanessa rolled her eyes at your tone, "Come on, Y/N-"

You already scoffed, "Don't act as if I'm the one in the wrong here. You haven't spoken to me in three months."

"With good reason."

"I doubt it," you said, still refusing to look at her.

Vanessa simply took a deep breath, leaning back into her chair as her eyes landed on the animatronics too. She couldn't stop a brief smile from appearing on her face as she remembered the last time she had seen you. You had both been giggling at the fact that Bonnie had fallen over and knocked over the fort, covering you both (and the other animatronics) in blankets. And one thing lead to another, Vanessa had ended up on top of you and that's when you confessed your feelings... And then she left.

The smile was replaced by a frown.

"I thought you felt the same, Nessy," you said, feeling the tears creeping back in.

"Y/N-" she began, feeling her own heart starting to ache.

"I'm sorry if I read it wrong. But after all we've been through and when we kissed, I just..." you shook your head, in hopes of ridding the tears. One slipped through and down your cheek, "Mike told me you felt the same at least."

Vanessa was gonna kill him.

Vanessa tapped the table mindlessly, trying to decide on what to say.

A part of her wanted to give in and reciprocate everything you were feeling, because she did in fact feel the same. She had indeed fell hard.

But another part of her was eating away at her mind, telling her to just leave again. A crackled voice in her head telling her to save you whilst she still could.

"Tell me you don't feel the same. And I will drop this, Vanessa," you finally looked towards her, she couldn't help but bite her lip at the sight of your glossy eyes.

She shook her head, looking down, "Y/N... It's not that I don't feel the same. I do. It's just... so complicated."

A small part of you felt relief at the confirmation that she did feel the same, but all you felt right now was confusion and concern as to why she didn't want to act on it.

"Is there anything I can do to make this right?" you started to plead.

With another shake of her head, she replied, "You have nothing to make right, Y/N. It's my fault. I shouldn't have left without telling you anything, especially for almost three months..." she paused before glancing at the animatronics on the stage. Freddy gave her a slight nod, encouraging her to continue and tell you what was eating away at her head and heart.

"What's holding you back, Nessy?" you whispered, moving your chair slightly closer to hers.

She looked into your eyes, "I... I can't tell you, Y/N. I really want to, but I can't. It will destroy whatever we have between us."

You nodded your head towards the animatronics, "If I can handle ghosts possessing animatronics, I can handle whatever you have going on."

She couldn't stop a smile from appearing on her face at that. It soon dropped though when the nagging glitchy voice in her head started to resurface again. She slowly reached to place her hand on top of yours that was on the table, she was surprised when you didn't move.

"I don't know, Y/N..." she said, her thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly.

You leaned in closer to her, "Help me understand."

She couldn't help but lean in closer too, instinctively.

Her other hand came up to rest on your cheek. Your heart raced at her touch, you were hopefully of her opening up. The many walls Vanessa had built up were extremely hard to break down, and you prayed that you would be the one to get through to her.

Your face reddened upon feeling her breath against your lips. Right now you didn't care if any of the other party-goers saw you, all you could focus on right now was the woman in front of you.

Vanessa finally leaned in to kiss you, unable to hold herself back. Her lips felt even better than you remembered, the alcohol you had drank the first time made the whole experience fuzzy.

The kiss was over way too quick, almost as if it never happened. Almost as if Vanessa regretted it.

"Vanessa?" you muttered, waiting for her to decide on what she was going to do.

She pulled her hands away, "I can't," you noticed the tear fall from her eye as she abruptly stood up, "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Vanessa," you said, trying to stop her. But she turned and left without warning, moving fast through the crowd.

The silence soon surrounded you once again. Not even the music coming from the stage or the chatter of people around you reached your ears. All you could hear was the harsh pounding of your heart in your chest, drumming loud in your ears.

You were thankful that Mike had shown up to this party. He found you late into the evening curled up backstage, and he wasted no time in getting you out of there - more than happy to listen to you vent as he held you close in his home.

You both hoped that Vanessa would show up to a night shift again.

You hoped you would get some sort of closure one day. You hoped that your story with Vanessa wasn't over yet.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore ; @danveration

when a swiftie gets their hands on a vanessa/reader fic

#fnaf #fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #fnaf vanessa #vanny x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fanfic #taylor swift #swifties

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter seven.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift.

author's note: more fluff, more banter. this chapter is just self indulgent cuteness.

Being friends with Theodore Nott was strange. 

Though you still bickered and bantered, the undertone of your interactions were less hostile and more suggestive in nature. Theo had always been a flirt, but you never realized how good he was at it until your usual response of irritation sharpened into something else. It didn’t help that his presence around you had become more constant now that Luna and Pansy made things official. 

“They’re sickeningly adorable,” Theo said as he slid into the bench next to you. “I’m fighting the urge to retch.”

You glanced up to find Pansy and Luna huddled close together, whispering and giggling at one another. “Oh, absolutely vile. No one should be subjected to their shameless canoodling this early in the morning.” 

Theo poked your thermos with a piece of french toast. “Just like you shouldn’t subject yourself to that sorry excuse of a coffee flavor.” 

You took an exaggerated swig and smiled. “The pumpkin spice is here to stay. You’re free to leave if you don’t like it, Theo.” 

His eyes glittered with mischief. “Hmm, maybe I didn’t get a good enough taste last time. I think I’ll try again.” 

“Don’t you dare, Theodore,” you warned, cradling your thermos protectively. 

“Is it Theodore now?” He asked, raising a brow. “And here I thought I’d earned first name privileges out of that pretty mouth. Amongst other things.” 

“Yeah, well, you seem to like abusing the privilege so maybe I should start cutting back on my generosity.” 

“I think you’ll find that I’m equally as generous, if not more.” His smirk grew when he noticed you growing flustered. “I’d be happy to demonstrate, Y/N. In a broom closet. In an empty classroom. In either one of our dorms. Hell, even in the middle of this damned hall if you asked.”

“Tempting,” you said sarcastically as you attempted to hide the tinge of red that had crept up your neck behind a curtain of hair. “Sadly, getting expelled for exhibitionism isn’t really on my to do list.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Suit yourself. Just know that I have no qualms on getting on my knees for you, diavolina.” 

You nearly choked on your coffee while Theo smiled innocently. 

“Oi! Am I losing it or is this bacon burnt to a crisp?” Mattheo exclaimed as he obnoxiously plopped down next to you.

Enzo sat across from him and took a bite out of his toast. “You did ask for it to be extra fried.”

“I asked for it to be fried, not charred.” 

Theo sighed. “What are you two tossers on about now?” 

Malfoy appeared out of nowhere and took the spot beside his cousin. “Riddle’s convinced that the house elves are out to get him.” 

“They are out to get me! Look at this monstrosity.”

“Yes, I’m sure Winky’s actively planning your demise,” responded Blaise with an eye roll. “You’ve officially lost the plot, mate.”

You blinked, utterly bewildered at how and when you’d adopted the four Slytherins into your circle. Across the table, Pansy frowned in disapproval. Her little bubble of bliss had been abruptly popped by the presence of the boys. 

“You lot are scaring our poor Ravenclaw friends.” 

Berkshire gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, girls. We’re sort of a package deal. When you date one of us, you date the whole lot.”

“Oh, joy,” you deadpanned. “I’ve always wanted to be in a polyamorous relationship.” 

Mattheo smirked. “We are quite good at sharing. Aren’t we, boys?”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “On second thought, I think I’d prefer dying alone.”

“For Salazar’s sake, you’re even meaner than Pansy,” he muttered at his blackened bacon. 

You smiled sweetly. “Aw, is someone a little grumpy because they got served ash for breakfast? Poor little Riddle.” 

Malfoy snorted. “I wouldn’t mess with her, Mattheo. You know she almost pushed Vane off the bleachers the other day.” 

“I did not!” 

Theo chuckled. “Yeah, but you wanted to.” 

You bit back a smile. “Maybe a little.” 

“Everyone is talking about the dressing down you gave her,” Enzo said. “You’re kind of a badass, Y/N.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “More badass than you boys will ever be. Now stop pestering the poor girl and let her eat breakfast in peace.”

Despite the rough start, the rest of the meal was actually quite enjoyable. The Slytherins fought and argued like siblings, but you could tell that they all cared deeply for one another. No matter how much they teased and taunted each other, the boys were like rowdy brothers and Pansy, their elder sister and glue of the family. They all seemed to defer to the fearsome witch and you couldn’t blame them. 

Parkinson was terrifying, but in the most amusing way. 

As you wrapped up the morning, Pansy turned and the boys immediately fell silent. “Don’t forget our trip to Hogsmeade at the end of the week. You’re invited too, Y/N.” 

“I have to stu—” 

Pansy held her palm up. “Don’t bother. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Mattheo snickered. “What’s the matter, Y/N? Are you and Notty boy too busy eating each other’s gel—”

“Finish that sentence and I will impale you with my fork.” 

Malfoy smirked. “Please do, Y/N. I’d like front row tickets to the show.” 

“In that case, it’ll be a hundred galleons. A bargain, considering how deep those pockets are, Malfoy.” 

“Violence and extortion?” Blaise asked with a sly smile. “I can see why young Theodore is enamored with you, Y/N.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Zabini.” 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “You’re all honestly giving me a migraine. Parkinson, seeing as you’ve given me no choice, count me in for Hogsmeade. Loons, I’ll see you back at our dorm. To the rest of you, please do consider a refresher on manners. Except for you, Berkshire. You’re a sweetheart. No idea why you’re friends with this lot.” 

Enzo blushed to the tips of his ears. The rest of the boys protested, but you were already halfway through the Great Hall to entertain their complaints. 

“Enzo’s a sweetheart, is he?” Theo asked, smoothly matching your stride as you walked across the sunny courtyard. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Nott.” 

He gasped, clutching his heart. “First Theodore, now Nott? You wound me, Y/N.” 

The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you and Theo sauntered through the castle grounds. “Following me now? Zabini was right. You are enamored with me.”

“Oh, absolutely enthralled, darling. You have bewitched me—mind, body, and soul.” 

“You did not just quote Jane Austen to me.” 

“I saw your tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice,” Theo said with a smirk. “I imagine quoting Mr. Darcy is a bit like foreplay to you.” 

“Foreplay implies that you’re going to get lucky, which you’re not.” 

“Is that why you’re leading me into a secluded forest?” 

“I’m not leading you anywhere. You’re choosing to follow me. Stalking is the more accurate descriptor.” 

“Maybe I’m curious as to why you’re going into the Forbidden Forest by yourself. Don’t tell me you’re meeting a handsome Mr. Darcy type out here.” 

“Close. I’m here to meet Henry.” 

Theo paused, furrowing his brows. “Who in the bloody hell is Henry?” 

“You’ll see.” 

The forest thickened and the unmistakable crunch of the freshly fallen leaves echoed in the clearing as you trotted on them with your boots. You stood underneath a towering oak tree whose gnarled roots choked the damp earth underneath your feet. As loud as you could manage, you placed two fingers in your mouth and whistled. 

Beyond the tree line, a soft rustling emerged. You turned and found Henry galloping towards you. The thestral was barely a few weeks old, small and spindly with milky eyes and a sharp snout. He flapped his bat-like wings shyly as you knelt to the earth. You patted between his horns and smiled at the baby thestral. 

“Theo, meet Henry.” 

Theo crouched beside you. “Hello, Henry.” 

The foal peered curiously at Theo. Henry glanced up as you gave him a reassuring nod. 

“You can pet him, if you’d like. He’s fond of ear scratches and belly rubs.”

Theo looked unsure for a moment before gently scratching behind Henry’s ear. The baby thestral cooed and melted into his touch. 

“Here, you can help me feed him too.” 

You pulled out a sack of treats and handed some to Theo. “Henry’s quite young, so he’s not able to hunt for himself yet. Hagrid said that these treats will keep him healthy and fed until he gets his bearings.” 

“I didn’t know that they could be this small. I just always assumed that all thestrals emerged as full adults.” 

“Most of them are. The birth of a thestral is actually quite rare. This one here is the first baby born in over a decade.”

Theo nodded as Henry happily devoured the treats. There was a small smile on his face as the small horse nuzzled its snout into his palm. “I didn’t realize that you could see them too.” 

“Yeah, after the war I’m able to see them as clear as day.” You scratched underneath Henry’s chin. “I suppose most of the school can, too. I think they look at the thestrals and see the loss of innocence. The price of war. The death and carnage. But when I see this little guy, I’m reminded of all the sacrifices that others have made so that I could be here. Henry symbolizes a new beginning. It’s not always pretty, but it’s real.” 

The foal cooed as he basked in attention and affection. You and Theo played with him for a few minutes, giving him scratches after he diligently finished the last of his food. The thestral whinied in thanks before heading beyond the trees again. Henry flapped his wings happily, stirring the autumn leaves below him as he skittered off. 

“Will he be alright?” Theo asked. 

“He’s got his mum. She’ll look after him.” 

Theo smiled a bit. “I suppose she will.” 

The two of you walked back towards the castle in comfortable silence. In the past few weeks, Hogwarts had been suspended between autumn and winter. The air was tinged with chill and frost, but the first snowfall of the season was late in its arrival and you couldn’t wait for the day when snow covered the castle grounds again. 

You had always adored snow. One of your earliest memories was waking up on Christmas morning to find London covered in a glittering blanket of white. You always considered that moment as your first real glimpse of magic. Especially after you and your mum spent the entire day making snow angels in the front yard while your father snapped pictures. 

“What was your mum like, Theo?” you asked, your breath forming a cloud in front of you. 

Theo slipped his hands in his pockets. “Beautiful. Smart. Funny. That’s what I remember most about her. She had a wicked sense of humor. We used to pull all sorts of pranks on each other when I was little.” He grinned as he recalled a memory. “She rigged my very first broom to make farting sounds every time I flew. Malfoy laughed so hard he tumbled into a bush.”

“That must have been fun growing up.”

“It was. Mum was a lot of fun, but she could be strict too. I swear I knew all of the basic spells and wand movements before I even stepped foot in school. She said I had to ace my studies at Hogwarts if I wanted to get into Cambridge.”

You smiled. “What was her favorite subject?” 

“Most would guess potions, but it was actually a close tie with transfiguration. Mum once turned Goyle’s dad’s sock into a snake after he made fun of her haircut in fifth year. Professor McGonagall still brings it up to this day. Says mum was one of her best students.” 

“I bet,” you said with a chuckle. “Now I know where you get all your mischievousness from.” 

“My nonna always said that raising me was like raising her all over again. I swear, the old bat holds herself back from calling me Vittoria half of the time.” 

“Is that your mum’s name? Vittoria?” Theo nodded. “It’s very pretty.” 

“It means victory. My family is very intentional with names.” 

“What does Theodore mean?” 

“Divine gift.” 

“It seems fitting for someone who generally acts like they’re a gift from above.”

Theo rolled his eyes fondly. His expression turned serious as you rounded through the Black Lake. “For years, mum tried and failed to get pregnant. Her health was already precarious to begin with and the healers told her that having children would be difficult. When she discovered that she was pregnant with me, mum called me her little miracle.” 

“That’s so sweet.” 

“I’m not sure how much of a miracle I turned out to be though. After she had me, mum’s health declined. She was bedridden a lot of the time until she passed. My father always said that she might’ve lived longer had I not been born.”

His jaw clenched. You were aware that Theo didn't have the best relationship with his father. The elder Nott had always seemed cold and standoffish the few times you'd glimpsed him on the platform with Theo. By their stiff interactions, it was easy to surmise that they weren't very close. Whatever obligatory ties they might've had was swiftly severed after Theo testified against his father after the war.

Despite the fact that he was locked far away in Azkaban, you hated that Mr. Nott still had the power to hurt his son. Even if it was just cruel words from the past.

"I'm glad you were." You bumped him with your hip. “What a dreary world it would’ve been without you, Theodore Nott.” 

Theo bumped you back, catching you around the waist. “What about you? What are your mum and dad like?” 

“My dad’s a conductor for the philharmonic, but he was a musician years before that. He can play pretty much every instrument. My mum’s a barrister. I used to put on her wig and robes and pretend that I was defending a case like I’d seen her do at court.”

“That explains a lot,” Theo mused thoughtfully. “The angry piano playing. The constant arguing. I feel like I’m truly getting a full picture of you, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out rather petulantly, which only made Theo chuckle. “What about siblings?” 

You shook your head. “I’m an only child.” 

“So am I,” he said. “Though I never truly felt like it. I have an exorbitant amount of cousins. The Marchesis reproduce like rabbits, but it made for a fun childhood. Plus, there’s Pansy and the boys who are pretty much my family at this point. We’ve all known each other since birth.” 

“That must’ve been nice. All my cousins were significantly older, so I was never really around children my age until I came here. All the other muggle kids thought I was too serious and grown up and I thought they were all childish and quite stupid.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Theo draped his arm over your shoulder, ruffling your hair. “Did you ever get lonely?”

“No. My parents were my best friends, as lame as that sounds.” 

“I don’t think it sounds lame at all.” 

You grinned. “Besides them, Luna was the first friend I ever made. Now, she’s more like a sister to me and I feel rather protective of her.” 

“Pansy told me you interrogated her about her intentions.” 

You shrugged. “Just covering my bases.” 

“You know, Pansy’s mum and my mum were friends back then. She was overprotective of her friends too.”

“Sounds like my kind of witch.”

A faint smile bloomed on Theo’s face. “It’s nice to be able to talk about her.” 

“That’s what friends are for, Theo.” 

He stopped at the edge of the lake. Theo towered over you, nearly covering your small frame from view. He brushed his knuckles against your jaw, studying you thoughtfully. “Is that what we are, amorina? Friends?” 

You tilted your chin up and met his gaze head on. “Yes. Is that a problem?” 

“Not at all. I’ll be whatever you want, Y/N,” Theo said as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “As long as I get to do this.” 

Theo closed the gap between you and your breath stalled as his arm snaked around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his mouth inches away from your own. Theo studied you for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils before pressing his lips against yours. A tingling sensation set your body alight as he kissed you with a burning devotion reserved for the most ardent zealot. 

The kiss was a prayer, an alm, a petition to the divine, but the words were in a language that you couldn’t understand. 

His eyes burned like a funeral pyre and you felt the heat of it brush against your very core. Theo brushed his thumb against your cheek, his voice as rough and calloused as his touch. 

“Sono pazzo di te.” 

“I’m afraid that’s beyond my grasp of the Italian language. What did you say, Theo?”

Theo smiled. “I said I’ll race you to Charms!”

Before he even finished the sentence, Theo took off running. You yelled after him, cheeks red and hair streaming behind you as you chased him up the steps. You were out of breath and panting and very aware of how ridiculous you looked, but it was also the hardest you’ve ever laughed in your life. 

The formal invitation to Professor Slughorn’s dinner came on the same day of the Hogsmeade trip. Up until then, you had successfully put the whole thing out of your mind, but the letter in your hand pushed it back to the forefront. By the time the last class rolled around, it was all you could think about. 

Luna could tell that you were distracted as you walked through the castle halls. “Are you still thinking about the dinner?” she asked. 

You sighed. “Honestly, I’ve put it out of my mind for this long, but I know I can’t keep avoiding it.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“A year ago, it wouldn’t have even been a choice. I would’ve jumped at the chance to attend, but now…”

“Things have changed,” Luna said. 

“It isn’t fair, Loons. After the war, I thought things would get better, but there’s still so much shit to dredge through.” 

“There’s always going to be shit to dredge through, Y/N. The good news is that you have people to tackle it with.”

“I think the people make it harder.” 

“Because you care,” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to lead with your head all the time, you know. Sometimes it’s okay to let your heart call the shots.” 

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I feel like I’m in one of these cheesy muggle soap operas. What choice will Y/N make today?”

“Whatever you choose, I will support you. I already spoke with Harry and told him to keep an eye on you should you choose to go.” 

“Did Theo put you up to this?” 

She shook her head. “We’ve had…conversations about it. I’m perfectly aware that Theo has strong opinions on the matter, but Pans and I would be glad to give him a stern talking to on your behalf.” 

“I appreciate it, Loons. You know, I wasn’t sure about Parkinson at first, but I think she’s quite good for you. Terrifying, but good.” 

You truly meant it. Over the past few weeks, you had gotten to know Pansy and the rest of the Slytherin gang quite well. Mostly because they seemed to follow Parkinson around like lost puppies, which was amusing in and of itself. Regardless, you had grown fond of the little terrors. 

“My girlfriend in a nutshell.” Luna’s serene smile turned serious as she touched your arm. “I know I’ve been busy with Pans lately, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you, Y/N. You know you can talk to me about anything.” 

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “I know, Loons. You’re a great friend. Even though you adopted five bumbling idiots without my consent.” 

She chuckled. “Oh, I only brought four into the fold. One of them was already yours to begin with.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Speaking of which, what is the situation between you and Theodore? Pans will not stop pestering me about it.” 

“We’re…friends.” 

“Friends who sneak into each other’s dorms at all hours of the night, take strolls together in the Forbidden Forest, and stargaze at the Astronomy Tower. That kind of friend?” 

You flushed. “It’s complicated.” 

“I’m not judging,” Luna declared. “I happen to think that you two are adorable together.” 

“Who’s adorable together?” asked the obnoxious voice of none other than Mattheo Riddle. 

The boys were huddled by the castle entrance, dressed in comfortable layers. The last week of October had brought chill and frost, but snow had yet to make an appearance. 

“You and the sound of silence,” you retorted with a smile. 

Theo, Blaise, and Draco tried and failed to suppress their laughter. Enzo bit back a smile, which fooled absolutely no one. Pansy just sighed exasperatedly. 

“Do you see?” Mattheo cried. “She’s always so mean to me.” 

Theo draped an arm over your shoulder. He was dressed in a green and silver striped sweater with a pair of casual jeans and slightly scuffed trainers. The ensemble resembled something that the boys back home might’ve worn, but for some reason it looked a thousand times better on Theo. 

“Don’t worry, mate. She’s mean to everyone.” 

“Not to me,” Enzo said proudly. 

You grinned. Out of all the boys, you admittedly had a soft spot for Berkshire. He always had a stash of treats from Honeydukes to share during your study sessions and was just genuinely nice to everyone no matter what house they were in. 

“Obviously Enzo’s my favorite.” 

“That’s not fair,” Draco complained. “He bribes you with fudge.” 

“Better step it up then, Malfoy.” 

“Honestly, I’m offended,” Blaise said rather dramatically. “I shared my expensive face creams with you, Y/N. Doesn’t that mean anything?” 

“And it was a very special night, Zabini. But you can’t beat chocolate.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Let’s go before you lot derail this whole trip with your madness.” 

“Coming, mum,” you said brightly. 

Parkinson glared at you, but it was short-lived given Luna’s giggle. The blonde took Pansy by the hand and your comment was all but forgotten. 

As always, the charming village of Hogsmeade was littered with your fellow students. High Street was decorated for All Hallow’s Eve, complete with enchanted pumpkins, floating cauldrons, and charmed skeletons that popped up to frighten the witches and wizards strolling through the busy shops. 

The group entered Gladrags first. The boys, with the exception of Draco and Blaise, immediately occupied the benches towards the front of the clothing store. You took advantage of the peace and quiet and perused the rows and rows of rich robes, quirky hats, and crazy patterned socks. Though you preferred the simplicity of muggle clothing, you had to admit that the wizarding world offered some interesting choices in attire. 

After half an hour, your group walked out with nearly half the store. The Slytherins took the phrase ‘shop until you drop’ into a whole other level. The purchases that Pansy, Blaise, and Draco were so heavy that it had to be carted off back to the castle. 

You visited Dervish and Banges in which the boys spent an exorbitant amount of galleons on quidditch equipment. The group then made its way to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes where Mattheo almost lost a finger faffing around with a nose-biting teacup. Draco and Blaise stayed behind to wait for Mattheo and Enzo to ensure that they made it to dinner with all of their appendages intact, while Pansy and Luna popped into Madam Puddifoot’s for some chamomile tea, leaving you and Theo to explore Scrivenshaft’s on your own. 

“You didn’t have to come with,” you said as you examined the new stock of stationary. “I’m sure watching the Weasley twins hustle Riddle out of his money is much more entertaining than looking at boring old quills.” 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Besides, Mattheo’s a big boy. He can handle himself.” 

You snorted as you picked up a quick writing quill. “Oh, I don’t know. Riddle might need his knight in shining armor to rescue him from those villainous redheads.” 

Theo smirked. “You think I’m a knight in shining armor?” 

“Hmmm…” you cocked your head and examined him. “You’re more like the sarcastic sidekick, I think.”

“I’ll remember that, Y/N.” 

“Add it to the list,” you said with a sly smile. “I’m sure you’ve got a running tally on the countless times I’ve bruised your fragile ego.” 

Theo clutched his heart. “Mattheo’s right. You are mean.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” 

His lips curved up into a dangerous smirk. Theo leaned over you, bracing one arm against the shelf behind you to cage you in. “Oh, I do, but I enjoy fucking the attitude right out of you even more.” You swallowed thickly, backing into the bookshelf. Theo’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Not so feisty now, are we?” 

You rolled your eyes and smacked him against his chest. “You’re an absolute pest, do you know that?” 

“Add it to the list,” he responded cheekily. 

The flirting and banter followed you all the way out of the stationary shop. You and Theo argued for ten minutes after he took the shopping bag out of your hands and carried it for you. 

“I’m perfectly capable of toting my own things around, thank you very much.” 

He shrugged. “A gentleman never lets a lady carry her own bags.” 

“I wasn’t aware you were a gentleman.” 

“Only when I want to be,” Theo said. “You should take advantage of it. You never know when it’ll happen again.” 

You rolled your eyes, tugging at the bag in his hands. “Give me back my bag, Theodore.” 

“Drop it or I’ll haul you over my shoulder and carry you around the village instead.” 

“Fine, you win this round.” 

Theo smiled triumphantly. “Y/N admitting defeat? This calls for a celebration. Honeydukes it is.” 

The candy shop smelled as magnificent as it always did. Rows and rows of rainbow colored treats greeted you in every direction. You felt as giddy as you had in first year when the trolley of succulent-looking sweets passed through the aisles of the Hogwarts Express. You picked out your favorites—cauldron cakes, nougat chunks, and pumpkin pasties. 

Though the shop was packed to the brim, you moved easily among the aisles as Theo cleared the way. He quirked a brow at the mountain of sweets cradled in your arms, but said nothing as you marched up to the register. 

“Will that be all, miss?” asked the kindly shopkeeper. 

“And a batch of your freshly made fudge,” Theo requested. “Put it on my tab, Mrs. Flume.” 

“Of course. Anything for you, Theodore.” 

The shopkeeper disappeared at the back of the shop to fetch the fudge. You nudged Theo with your elbow. 

“I can’t let you pay for all of this,” you hissed sharply. 

“Of course you can. I’m disgustingly rich, remember?” 

“I know, but it wouldn’t be right.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve put up with my friends for weeks on end. Consider this as payment.” 

“This more than makes up for the debt. It’s not even equal at this point.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. Half of this is for my benefit. Can’t have Berkshire beating me for that number one spot, can I?” 

You chuckled. “Are you trying to bribe me, Theo?” 

“That depends. Is it working?” 

The mouth-watering scent of freshly made fudge hit you as Mrs. Flume handed Theo a large pink bag. Bribe or not, Theo was definitely on his way to dethrone Enzo as your favorite. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner,” Theo said as you popped a square of fudge into your mouth. The chocolate dissolved on your tongue as you released a sigh of satisfaction. 

“What are you, the chocolate police?” 

“What’s a police?” 

“They’re like aurors, but without wands.” 

“Well, one could argue that the amount of sweets you’re about to consume is a threat to public safety.” 

“Would you rather I be a threat to your safety instead?” 

“I’d say you’re already doing a rather excellent job of that.” 

You stuck your tongue out, but Theo didn’t seem to notice as he looked behind you. The bell chimed softly as you exited Honeydukes only to walk right into a winter wonderland. The cobblestone streets were as crowded as ever, but many stalled in their path to look up at the flecks of white falling from the sky. A gentle breeze sent a scatter of snowflakes to pile up in the storefronts, decorating High Street with glitter and wonder. 

The first snowfall of the season certainly did not disappoint. You ran out into the street, catching snowflakes on your tongue while laughing giddily. Theo watched with a small smile as you twirled around, your blue and gold scarf blurring while you spun and spun underneath the clear, blue sky. 

“Easy there,�� he said, catching you around the waist before you could slip on a patch of ice. “I’ve never seen anyone get this excited over a bit of snow.” 

“It’s the first snowfall of the season!” you exclaimed. Theo chuckled as you dragged him out of the busy streets, weaving through shoppers and villagers alike. You didn’t stop until you reached the end of the village. “Come on, you have to see the view.”

At the edge of the small, sleepy village, you could see the blanket of snow covering Hogsmeade. It made everything glitter as the sun disappeared over the horizon. You felt so happy that your heart could burst. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Snow dotted his mop of curly brown hair, the glittering flakes catching in his long lashes as he stared down at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, releasing a cloudy breath. “The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

Theo’s gaze softened. He reached out and brushed the snowflakes off your bottom lip with his thumb. The nervous bob of his throat was so uncharacteristically earnest that you nearly did a double take. 

“I want you to go to that dinner tomorrow night, Y/N.” His voice was soft and carried none of the argumentative tone that it usually did when you discussed Slughorn’s dinner. “I understand why you don’t want to and believe me, I wholeheartedly agree. But I’d never forgive myself if I stood in the way of the one thing you’ve been working for since first year.” 

You sighed. “It’s not just you, Theo. It’s Pansy. Draco. Blaise. Enzo. Even Mattheo. I don’t want to support anything that alienates my—my…friends.” 

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how fond and protective you’ve grown for the Slytherins. Somewhere between quiet mornings sipping freshly brewed coffee with Pansy, game nights in Malfoy’s ridiculously huge dorm, studying with Enzo in the Great Hall, comparing skincare products and exchanging tips with Blaise, and even riling up Mattheo with your ridiculous arguments, the little group had stolen their way into your heart. 

They were your friends and you would do anything for your friends. 

“All of us think that you should go. After all, there’s nothing more Slytherin than turning something terrible into a golden opportunity. If you get that recommendation, you’d be the first muggleborn member of the M.E.S.P., so you have to go. Go and make your favorite serpents proud, Y/N.”

Warmth spread through your chest. You could tell that Theo felt strongly about this. That he truly and genuinely cared about what an opportunity like this meant for a muggleborn witch like yourself. 

You found yourself nodding after a moment. “Fine, I’ll go but you have to let me eat another piece of fudge.” 

Theo smiled and those charming dimples peeked out of each cheek. “Not a chance in hell, dolcezza.”

You groaned dramatically. “Is that all or are you going to start lecturing me on my irresponsible consumption of sweets again?” 

Watercolor eyes flickered over you. “There is something else,” he said softly. “There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you, Y/N. I think you’ve already guessed by now but I—I think I’m—”

Before Theo could finish his sentence, a snowball hit him square in the chest. You yelped as a barrage of snow came raining down upon you. High up on the hill, Mattheo and Enzo skittered between the trees. Your would-be attackers laughed as they continued to hurl snowballs in your direction.  

“You’re dead, mate!” Theo bellowed as he dragged you behind him. “You two are absolutely and positively dead.” 

The two of you crouched behind a large rock. You peeked around the corner, trying to calculate your next steps. Pushing past whatever moment the boys had interrupted between you and Theo, you turned to your curly headed companion with a smile. 

“I know that look,” Theo accused. “You have a plan, don’t you?” 

“You still have those dung bombs from the twins?” 

He nodded and handed over the array of goodies he purchased from the Weasleys. The plan came to fruition a few minutes later. Mattheo and Enzo were safe up on their high hill, but you and Theo were not about to let that deter you. He followed as you crept up the fortress, keeping guard as you palmed a snowball in your hand. 

Mattheo spotted you first. He hurled snow at you, but you easily dodged his attack. When he left himself exposed, you flung the snowball with all your might. It hit him in the leg before exploding and drenching him with the stench of dung. Riddle nearly retched at the foul smell while Enzo doubled over in laughter. 

Theo took advantage of the situation and hurled his own snowball at Enzo’s stomach. Within seconds, the stench worsened. The two boys threw their remaining snowballs on the ground and signaled their surrender. 

“Dung bombs?” Riddle exclaimed as you came closer. “Nice touch, Notty boy.”

“Don’t look at me, mate. It was all Y/N.” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened. Enzo burst into laughter. “Told you not to mess with her,” Berkshire said as he cast a scouring charm over the both of them. 

“I’ve got to give it to you, Y/N.” Mattheo said with an impressed tone. “You’re more devious than I gave you credit for.” 

“You have no idea what you just started, Riddle,” you declared with a triumphant smirk. “If i were you, I’d sleep with one eye open tonight.” 

You flashed him the most evil smile you could muster before dusting yourself off and heading down the hill. The boys stared after you before following. 

“I am genuinely afraid of her,” Mattheo murmured. 

You didn’t have to turn around to know that Theo was smirking. “Now you know how I feel, mate.” 

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#mattheo has such baby of the family energy and i love him for it #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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