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eddiesxangel · 4 months

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Babydoll| Dom!Eddie

Cw: porn with a slight plot, daddy kink, mechanic!Eddie, dom Eddie/sub reader relationship, reader referred to with pet names (babydoll, babygirl) oral (f receiving), lots of dirty talk, p in v, eddie and reader are in their mid 20’s

Summary: You're having a hard week, and your bf knows just the cure.

wc:2.2.k

This week has been challenging. Work had been a nightmare; you had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You were drained physically, mentally, and emotionally; you were exhausted. So when you get home to see your man, Eddie, on the couch after work, already cleaned up from the grime and oil he has to endure, you can’t help but crawl into his lap.

You tell him you didn’t have time to breathe these past four days. You told him that everyone needed you then and there and that you didn’t even have time to finish your regular duties. You were at your breaking point…he could see it on your face when you walked through the door.

Eddie knew what he had to do. He had to take control. He usually does, but when you’re in dire need, such as this week, he had to help you relax. He had to help you forget about everything and anything. You needed to have your mind numbed, and he knew just how to get you into that space.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, you should have told me earlier in the week. You know you can always talk to me.” Eddie caressed the back of your head before wrapping his arms around you in a protective hug.

“I know,” you sniffled, “but I didn’t wanna burden you; you’ve been so busy at the shop, and I didn’t want my stress being your stress,” you stressed. This was the problem: you didn’t know how to dump all of your stuff onto others healthily. You usually held it in until you exploded. Usually, you exploded alone in your room, but being with Eddie seemed to make everything better. He made everything better.

“No. None of that. You need to know when you can come to your Daddy, okay?” Eddie pulled back to tilt your chin up and look you in the eyes.

“Oh,” your voice stammered as your stomach did a backflip. So that’s how tonight was going to go.

“Now, be a good girl and sit up.” You obeyed and wrapped one leg over his waist so you could be straddling him.

“There she is, there is, my pretty girl.” You still blush at his praises, even after all this time.

Eddie reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You want me to make you feel good, baby?” He cooed.

You slightly nod your head. God you needed to let go, to no longer have control. You trusted Eddie with every fibre of your being.

“Words babydoll.

“Yes, Daddy."

“Good girl.” He traced your cheek with his rough calloused fingers. Before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You could still smell a hit of motor oil permanently attached to his scent, but you didn’t mind. It’s what made him your Eddie.

You leaned your head into his touch; he was so gentle, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Not when you two played like this.

You watched as Eddie tilted his head so his lips could reach yours. A soft and gentle kiss at first, nothing but PG 13. That was until a small moan left your lips. You wanted and needed more. Your hips were on autopilot as you started grinding back and forth in his lap. His rough jeans felt so nice under your clothed pussy, the friction was just right, especially with his hardening cock coming to life under you.

“Take what you need. Tonight it’s all about you. Take what's yours.” Eddie whispered even though it was only the two of you in the apartment unit. His big hands gripped each cheek of your ass and helped guide you. Your pussy wax throbbing, getting wetter with each of his words.

“Daddy, I want more.” You let out a shaky breath. Yes the jeans were nice but they would never satisfy.

“What does my baby need?” He cocked his head.

“You”

“My, what? Baby girl, use your words.”

“Your everything, Daddy.”

Eddie didn’t push any further. Tonight, he knew you couldn’t take the constant pestering for specifics he usually puts you through.

“Okay, baby, I’m here. Your Daddy’s got you.” With that, he stood with you still wrapped around his waist and carried you into the bedroom. When you first started going out, you were so scared you were too heavy for him, but then he reminded you he lifted tires that weigh hundreds of pounds for a living. So the way Eddie was carrying you now didn't seem to phase him.

He placed you down so you stood on your own two feet and let you know he was going to undress you. Once you were entirely naked, he gently laid you down on the bed.

“There you go sweetheart, all you have to do is lay there and look pretty.” The way you were looking at Eddie made his cock stand up even more than it had been when you were on the couch. He couldn't wait to have his way with you. He was so excited to play with you.

Your delicate hand slowly trailed down your body, but Eddie pushed it out of the way before it reached its destination. “Not too fast, sweetheart, this is my pussy, and you know I don’t like to share.” He tutted.

“M’sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m going to let it slide this time, but don’t get used to it.” His tone was stern, you knew he wasn’t fucking around tonight.

“Yes, Daddy.” You bite your lip. You were starting to completely forget about the troubles you had faced merely an hour ago.

“Good girl,” Eddie spoke as he stripped. “Now, where to start first?”

You knew he wasn’t asking you, it was a rhetorical question, but you so wanted to tell him your pussy. Your clit was screaming at you; you could feel your heartbeat down there at this point.

“Please!” you whine.

“Patients darling.”

You pout at his words. You needed him, he knew how badly you needed him. You could feel your arousal seeping out of you as it trailed down your inter thighs.

“I need you now.” You spread your legs ever wider to prove how needy your pussy had gotten for him, so he could see everything.

“Fuck baby, you’re killing me.” Eddie groaned and dove head-first into your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief when his soft warm lips come into contact with your pussy lips. His hands reached up, never forgetting about your breasts. He teased and tugged at each nipple sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.

“You’re always so sweet for me, aren't you, babydoll?” He moved his free hand to stroke your clit with his index finger as he spoke. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”

“Yes, Daddy, only you.” It was so meek, but he still heard it in the silence of the bedroom.

“Good.” Eddie dove back in. His mouth attacked your clit until you were seeing starts. His tongue wrapped around your clit and pussy lips before lapping into your drenched hole. You gripped his hair as your body went into autopilot again. Your brain was finally shutting off completely; you forgot about everything and anything that wasn't Eddie. All you could focus one was the feeling of pleasure building inside of you as you ride Eddie’s face.

“You’re doing so good for me." He praised. "I want you to come on my mouth before you get to come on my cock a few times…. How does that sound?”

“Mmmmhmmpf,” you managed to nod your head, and your hips continued to grind Eddie’s face. You used his mouth to get off and you finally exploded. That’s all you wanted was to feel good, and Eddie always gave that to you.

“I'm coming!” You cried before yelling out Eddie’s name.

“Good girl.” Eddie kissed your clit once before giving your clit a slight slap making your body jerk, continuing to ride out your first orgasm.

"You want to make Daddy feel good now, don't you?” He asked, and you nodded your head dumbly. You needed to have him feel good and you did, you would give him the world if he asked. “That's it, there's my good girl." He smirked as he sat up to align his angry red cock at your gooey entrance.

“You ready for me?” He asked permission like he always does. And you nodded like you always do, as if you would say no? But if you ever did you knew Eddie would roll right off and cuddle you the rest of the night.

“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I want you to fuck me, Daddy!” you answered.

Eddie could see your eyes were glazed over with lust. He knew he had you in his favourite place. Cock drunk and needy... just for him.

"Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy right to the brim and then keep fucking you until you can’t think anymore, that okay with you baby girl?"

“Okay, Daddy.” You let out a shaky breath in anticipation. His words make your pussy flutter once again. His mouth always made you wet in more ways than one.

Eddie took his cock by the shaft and slapped your very sensitive clit a few times with the head before he ran it up and down your slit a few times to collect your slick so he could slip in smoothly but you still winced at the size of him.

"I know, baby girl, Daddy's cock is so big, but you can take it."

“I can.” You countered back.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He is cock slid in without any hesitation. He made it to the hilt, and you finally felt complete. Like a missing piece of you was found.

Eddie slowly pulled back before slowly pumping back into you, gaining speed with each delicious pump. He watched as his thick long cock disappeared inside of you.

“You feel that babydoll? I’m so deep inside you I can see it in your stomach.” He pressed a hand down onto your lower stomach, and you let out a long, drawn out moan.

“Oh god! Fuck right there!” It was like a bolt of lightning ran through you.

“Ohhh oh, oh yes! That’s it squeeze my cock, you’re going to milk me so good” His eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cum until you’ve had your fair share.

“Please I’m so close!” The feeling inside you quickly built back up.

“I know, baby. Let go for me.” His hand trailed down to your overly swollen clit. He rubbed quick little circles until he felt your walls clamp down on him. Your body was washed over with another wave of pleasure.

“God you squeeze me so good” he gritted through his teeth. Again refusing to cum until he gave you one more. Eddie pulled out before he could bust inside of you too soon. You let out a cry at the loss of Eddie’s contact. Eddie could see your tight hole closing in on its wild again as he pulled out.

The loss of contact didn’t last long as his thick fingers replaced his cock. He watched intently as his fingers stretched you out once again. They swam in your slick before he brought them to your lips.

“Taste how sweet you are, babydoll.” He grabbed your jaw to open your mouth and slipped his fingers inside of your mouth. You could taste the mix of you and Eddie on your tongue.

“God, you have the prettiest lips. Can’t wait until they are wrapped around my cock later.” You swirled your tongue around his fingers and hummed. Eddie’s eyes were full of lust as he observed you. You were lost in your own lust, all fucked out and needy. You hardly were processing Eddie’s words.

"Now baby, you're gonna take all of Daddy's cum, and then we are going to make sure it stays in there all night long. Okay? Gotta breed this pussy so good so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned in a daze. The thought of Eddie filling you made your head spin. Having a part of him growing inside you, god, you needed it more than air to breathe.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to manhandle you and flip you over into all fours, and you let out an oomph before you feel his strong hands grip each hip. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his thick cock slams back into your wanton pussy. He then gabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back as your chest falls onto the plush bedding. And then he rides you. He fucks into like there will be no tomorrow.

“Fuckin’ love this needed little pussy, love it so much.” Eddie slammed into you between each word. “Love it ever better when it’s been bread with my cum.”

“Yes!

“You going to let me own this body?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” You cried. His cock was grazing your G spot with each pump. Having eddies cock stretch and pump into you never failed to make you moan.

“Show me what’s mine baby, yea that’s it arch your back for me.” Eddie loved you in this position because it was when you were the most obedient. You were so playable you would do almost anything he asked of you when he had you bend over like this. It was also when you were the loudest without realizing it. All fucked out and cock drunk, not aware of your noises.

“Oh fuck, scream my name! Let everyone know who owns this pussy!” He cheered as he slapped your ass.

“Daddy!!” You scream because your throbbing pussy can’t take anymore. Your third orgasm is washing over you before you know what is happening. Your whole body felt like it was on fire but like you were also floating simultaneously.

Finally, Eddie can breed your pussy. “Gunna fills this pussy” Eddie lets out a loud grunt as he cums inside you. His cock twitches inside of you, releasing his hot sticky cum inside.

Eddie pumps his cock two more times, making sure it stays inside of you before he pulls out.

Your limp body is flopped on the bed, and Eddie pulls you into his chest.

“Thank you, baby,” you whispered as you returned to reality.

“I’ll always be here for you, baby girl.” He kisses you sweetly before you spend the rest of the evening in bed.

Tagging those who showed interest😈 @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch @itsfreakingbats @lofaewrites

#eddie munson x reader #eddue munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #dom!eddie Munson x reader #daddy!eddie munson #daddy!eddie #daddy!eddie munson x reader #dom!eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #daddy eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie munson x reader

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sarawritestories · 4 months

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You Are Not a Burden

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.

Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.

Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.

Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.

Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”

You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”

Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”

He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”

His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”

You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”

In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”

He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired. For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.

You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.

The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.

“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”

You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”

“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”

You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”

“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.

~Later That Evening~

You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.

They don’t need you.

You don’t belong.

You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.

You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”

His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed. The food appeared and everyone gave approval

Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”

You are only good at parading to other courts.

You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”

“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.

Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.

Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.

Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.

Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”

Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!” Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.

You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.

You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.

The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.

You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.

He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”

“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.

Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”

You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”

Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”

You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”

“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”

He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.

You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”

Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears. “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”

Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.

A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”

He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”

You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”

He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”

You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.

~FIN

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian fluff #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader

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neet-elite · 3 months

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Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Stepbro!Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 7,617 Warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, cheating, dubcon, magic pocket pussy, mean Sebastian, name calling (dummy, little sister, baby sister), cunnilingus, accidental creampie, objectification, ruined orgasm, fingering Synopsis: More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

A/N: Should I make this a series? I have several more thoughts that didn't make it into this fic... Let me know if you wanna read more! Anyway I had fun with this! I've wanted to do something like this piece for a while but was convinced everyone would hate it LOL... But my friends reassured me so thank you guys <3

Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling insane when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call him the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.

Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your ‘playful’ comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally dating his best friend; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to sister in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that you moved into his home. More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s exhausting watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to shut up; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!

Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re mean and you fucking know it.

Tonight, he decides to change that.

For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self. Fuck he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down. It’s disgusting, the way he actually loves it.

He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you. God, it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you hate him. It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.

Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by indulging. Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s gross, because deep down he wishes it was him.

You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan. Fuckin’ brat, he smiles to himself. Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya.

It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right? God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.

Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and pretty, his throat immediately drying when he realises just how attractive it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a replica, and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like, how dare you be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not Sam. Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement. Fuck, okay, maybe it really is linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish not to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.

And he’s so close too, God; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s right, that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs; fuck, he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.

Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how quiet you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because something is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.

And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you listening to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so perfect. The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is real causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.

A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you. Pussydrunk. It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “Dummy…” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything. Really making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah? Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat. Linked to you in your room, fuuuck he wants to see your face so bad. Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s him that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.

A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before attempting to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your taste, fuck, can practically smell how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister cunt—” He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely trembling, shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a good girl for once. While he could eat you out literally all day if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to yank him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering. Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?

Small haah’s are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you. So close, he pants to himself. Wanna fuck you so bad, he almost whines, for so long. Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s close enough; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.

And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter, inviting him, even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of more; but he forces himself to resist. Wait, he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels so good, fuck, even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to really hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking deserve.

You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so wet due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment. Gross, he smiles to himself.

Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “Shit— fuck.” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to you. His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure not to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked. Ruined, truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.

And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you slowly, forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be enjoying this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how annoyed he is. It’s unfair that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “That’s it, fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.

More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can taste just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on his cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life. Payback, he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so easily, willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a good girl for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.

But fuuuuck you feel so good, nice and tight and eager, constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.

Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know big brother is fucking you properly.

God he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left uninformed. He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding? God, you feel too fucking good it’s unfair, should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.

“Stupid girl—” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If— fuck, oh my God— if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease. Faster, too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down, can’t, really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply getting off, uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel so good: and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.

“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he almost wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”

You have been such a good girl for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve accepted his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel sooo good?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How cute you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding plap!, sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.

A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as: Big Brother’s. It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled sis caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and keeping it there, lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.

He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out, slowly removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be so frustrated to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.

He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.

Brat: Can you come help me sebby?

A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.

Sebastian: No, I’m busy.

And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:

Brat: It’s serious, please!

Sebastian: … Where are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you really suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for more, needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re so close and you’d take anything at this point?

Brat: My room, please hurry.!

Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room, your hiding place. He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side; thankful. You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?

But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re hiding from him. And oh it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking his help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—

“I— Ah!”

Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is actually magic, unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment—and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight, almost moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.

All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and soon. Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.

“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and needy, a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For him. It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps, knows that you aren’t, fuck, look at you; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more. It’s your fault, maybe if you weren’t so fucking cute when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.

And it would, and he wants to see it, but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of go away! While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking pretty, by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.

“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so prettily like that, right?

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #also trying a new way of styling these posts!#think its cute #I FORGOT TO ADD THE TITLE HEHE

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sunny-mercya · 5 months

Text

Sensitive Heart

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.

Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.

And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.

Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.

Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.

Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.

Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.

So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.

Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.

~~~

The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.

Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.

»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.

It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.

»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.

You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.

»I.....don't really remember anymore.«

Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.

»Did Jules brought you here?«

»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«

Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.

»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.

»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«

You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.

Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?

~~~

It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.

Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.

She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.

But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.

»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«

»What? What are you talking about Syd?«

»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«

Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.

»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«

»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«

Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.

Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.

»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«

You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.

A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.

~~~

»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.

»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.

»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.

»Where is he?«

»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.

Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.

Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.

There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.

To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.

In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.

It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.

They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.

It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.

»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.

»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«

»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«

After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.

Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.

Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.

»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.

»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«

Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.

You're their little bunny.

#male reader #x male reader #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #scream 1996 #scream x male reader #scream #poly! billy loomis & stu macher x male reader #billy x stu x male reader #poly! billy and stu x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #stu macher x male reader #stu macher #billy loomis

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sunkissed-zegras · 1 month

Note

had another jump then fall thought

after adam and cece start dating (and maybe move in together???) i could totally see paloma walking into their room at night holding her fave stuffie with tears in her poor little eyes saying she cant sleep (especially after the court thing) she would just be so scared that ceces gonna disappear or shes gonna get taken away from them again poor girl is so little with so much anxiety

oh my god YES. anxiety is very much a part of paloma’s life after the whole court hearing. she never wants to be away from adam ever again and even the mere thought gives the poor girl nightmares 🥹🥹

after the hearing, even adam gets anxious about the whole thing and the only person who’s able to calm him is sweet cece (despite her own fears of paloma’s bio mom taking her again)

─ warnings sosososo much anxiety, exhaustion but fluffy (post pining) moments with cece/adam. also this was written on my phone so there may be errors LOL

─ wc 635

the clock on the bedside table flashed 3:12 am and both cece and adam were fast asleep in their warm bed. cece had a 10 am lecture while adam had practice the next morning, they both wanted to catch up on their sleep.

the door creaked open, revealing a very pouty and tired looking paloma. she began crying softly and cece began to stir before waking up and seeing the toddler at the door, barely being able to stand.

“dove?” cece’s hoarse and tired voice rang out in the room as she got out of bed and grabbed the little girl into her arms.

at cece’s now empty spot on the bed, adam stirred and eventually woke and let out a sigh. this had been a constant struggle with paloma since the hearing but he couldn’t hold it against her, she didn’t even know what was going on. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted, though.

adam rubbed his eyes and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair as he watched cece comfort paloma. he knew that the past few weeks had been tough on all of them, especially on paloma. ever since the hearing, she had been more clingy than usual, sensing the tension in the air.

"another bad dream?" adam asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he glanced over at cece and paloma.

cece nodded, her own exhaustion evident in the lines of her face. "yeah. they're getting more frequent, adam. i'm getting a little worried."

adam sighed as he stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "she's fine. it's normal for her to wanna sleep with us, she's a baby."

"adam," cece's voice was a little agitated as adam once again tried to ignore paloma's obvious separation anxiety. she knew he couldn't help it though.

adam felt a pang of guilt at cece's tone. he knew she was right, but he also struggled with seeing paloma upset and he didn't know how he'd cope if he found out there was something wrong. he ran a hand through his hair again, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling on his shoulders.

"i know, cee," adam said softly, reaching out to gently stroke paloma's hair as she nestled against cece. "i just hate seeing her like this, you know? It breaks my heart. and it's my fault, too-"

"don't you dare say that, adam." cece's voice was firm, cutting off adam's self-blame before it could fully take root. she reached out to grasp Adam's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "it isn't anyone's fault except her mother's, for making us all endure the shit she gave us."

adam's shoulders sagged with relief at Cece's words, grateful for her understanding. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to paloma's forehead before resting his forehead against cece's.

"i know," Adam murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i just... i want to do everything i can to protect her, you know? and when i see her like this... it's hard not to feel like i'm failing."

cece reached up, cupping Adam's cheek in her hand and guiding his gaze to meet hers. "you're not failing, adam. you're the best dad ever and paloma knows that. you can't control everything that happens no matter how hard you try, all you can do is just help her cope."

adam's eyes softened at her words, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. he leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her hand against his cheek.

"thank you, cece," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "i needed to hear that."

cece smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth as she pressed a tender kiss to adam's lips. "of course, adam. we are in this together, remember? we'll figure it out."

#jump then fall au #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #adam fantilli #adam fantilli smut #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli x you #cece x adam 🩵#princess paloma 👑

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whitedarkmoonflower · 6 months

Text

Sickness

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Anonymous asked:

Season four Sihtric, when the group are passing through the fields during that plague and the river. Reader is the lover of Sihtric and is sick. Her sickness gets worse after the run in with Eadith’s brother Eardwulf. Very angsty with the rise on emotions everyone is dealing with. Eadith tries keeping the reader alive with her medical abilities but it’s to no avail. The reader and Sihtric have what they think are their last moments before she is kidnapped along with Stiorra, Aelswith and Aethelstan. She gets better and reunites after the siege.

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: This is the request I took over from @sihtricfedaraaahvicius It is the first part, the next will follow hopefully soon.

Warnings: a bit of fluff and angst, quite a load of angst

Word Count: 4,6K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Uhtred's heart pounded in his chest as he spotted the soldiers on horseback emerging from the road bend. There was no time to waste.

"Run!" he shouted urgently, his voice leaving no room for questions. Finan and Osferth quickly grabbed Aethelstan by the hands, while Uhtred swiftly turned and scooped up Aelfwynn in his strong arms. Without further ado, they darted off the road into the tall grass of the meadow to their right. Eadith, Stiorra, and the young Uhtred, followed suit. You hesitated for a moment, bending over with your hands on your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath as your gaze locked with Sihtric.

"Come on, there's no time to waste," the urgency in his eyes turned into worry. "Are you okay? Can you run?" he asked, taking a step in your direction and extending his hand.

You had been relieved to escape the woods and feel a solid road beneath your feet again after the exhausting days you had endured. A nagging sense of discomfort had slowly settled into your body, initially dismissed as the expected toll of running through fields and woods on foot, and sleeping under the open sky with moss and fallen leaves as your only mattress and blanket. It had started as a subtle ache in your joints, as if they were encased in lead, protesting every movement and sending sharp, shooting pains through your body. Gradually, this discomfort had escalated into a more pronounced pain, and this morning, you had woken up tired and weak, your skin hot to the touch.

But the last thing you wanted was to reveal your weakness and become a burden or an obstacle to others. You held responsibility for the children – Aelfwynn, Aethelstan, and Stiorra, though she pretended to be grown up already. You had been caring for them in Saltwick for over a year, and your bond had deepened in ways you never could have anticipated. You loved and cared for them as you were sure you would for your own children, should you ever have any.

Aelfwynn, with her bright eyes and insatiable curiosity, had a remarkable talent for bringing warmth even to the coldest of days. She was a quick learner, possessed a genuine thirst for knowledge about the world, and you found yourself marvelling at her growth. Her laughter was as sweet as a melody, and her hugs felt like a soothing balm for the soul.

Aethelstan, the thoughtful and introspective one, had a heart overflowing with kindness. His gentle spirit served as a constant reminder of the goodness that still existed in the world, even during the most challenging times. His trust in you warmed your heart.

Stiorra, the spirited and adventurous one, injected an element of excitement and unpredictability into your lives. Her infectious laughter and boundless energy were both exhilarating and, at times, exhausting. You embarked on countless adventures together, and with every scrape and bruise she earned, you felt it tug at your heart.

You loved these children unconditionally, celebrating their victories and providing comfort during their moments of sadness. You worried about their futures and dreamt of the wonderful lives that lay ahead for them. Your heart had expanded to encompass these precious souls, and you couldn't fathom a day without their laughter, quirks, and love. So when Uhtred and his men insisted on fleeing, you didn't hesitate for a moment—you were determined to accompany them.

And then, of course, there was Sihtric, the handsome Dane with the most unique haircut you had ever seen in your entire life. You couldn't deny the initial unease you felt around him when he was assigned by Lord Uhtred to guard the children alongside Finan and Osferth in Saltwick.

His quiet demeanour and the way he observed you had initially sparked suspicion. Sihtric's deep and enigmatic eyes seemed to track your every move, their intensity sending a prickling sensation across your skin. It was as if he could see through you, discerning something you couldn't quite grasp, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

However, as the days passed, Sihtric's presence transformed from a cause for suspicion to a source of reassurance. His reserved nature concealed a kind heart and a readiness to lend a hand whenever necessary. He frequently offered assistance with the children, whether it was helping Aethelstan carve his wooden horse or taking Stiorra on playful adventures in the woods. Aelfwynn, in particular, had taken a liking to him, finding solace in his company.

Your initial unease gradually faded as you witnessed Sihtric's interactions with the children, noting his patience and caring nature. Imperceptibly, you grew quite fond of the gentle and kind-hearted man hidden behind the rugged exterior of a fierce warrior.

You vividly recalled that evening, as if it had occurred just yesterday. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the tranquil garden where you had found your moment of peace and tranquillity. The children were fast asleep, their dreams filled with the day's adventures.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, you received a pleasant surprise when Sihtric quietly joined you, taking a seat beside you. His presence was a welcome one, and the two of you relished the serene beauty of the fading daylight.

For a while, you enjoyed each other's company in silence, with only the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze breaking the stillness. Sihtric's gaze lingered on you, and you could feel his eyes on your face. It was an intense scrutiny that made your heart flutter, and you couldn't resist stealing a glance in his direction.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sihtric broke the silence, his voice low and sincere. "You are truly remarkable," he began, his words carefully chosen. "The way you care for Aelfwynn, Aethelstan, and Stiorra, it's... inspiring."

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "I appreciate your kind words, Sihtric," you replied, genuinely touched by his compliment. "But I'm just doing what comes naturally. They've become like family to me."

Sihtric nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "It's more than that. You have a gift, a way of making them feel safe and loved. It's a rare quality, and I admire it greatly."

A sense of warmth enveloped you as you listened to his words. There was a vulnerability in his expression, as though he had revealed something deeply personal, and you appreciated his openness. As you gazed into Sihtric's eyes, you saw a sincerity and warmth that had been hidden beneath the surface.

The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft, silvery glow, casting enchanting shadows on the two of you as you sat side by side. Touched by Sihtric's words and captivated by the way the moonlight highlighted his handsome features, you found it difficult to tear your gaze away from him. He appeared so strong and reassuring in the tranquil evening light, and you couldn't help but feel a flush of desire as you imagined his strong arms around your waist and his full, sensual lips against yours.

As the thought danced through your mind, your heart quickened, and you couldn't help but let your hand fall gently onto Sihtric's, a subtle invitation that carried a world of unspoken desire. Your pulse raced as you leaned in closer and inhaled his breath, your faces just centimetres apart. You were so close that you could sense his muscles tensing and his breathing becoming more strained. The moment seemed so perfect and you closed your eyes, anticipation hanging in the air.

Sihtric shuddered, his body tensing under your touch. With a sudden, trembling voice, he stammered, "I... I should excuse myself. It's getting late, and I should check on the horses."

His sudden withdrawal and the tremor in his voice took you by surprise. Confusion and disappointment washed over you as Sihtric hastily retrieved his hand and stood up, his gaze avoiding yours.

In the space of a heartbeat, the enchanting moment was shattered, and you were left sitting alone in the garden, the echoes of what might have been hanging in the air. Sihtric's abrupt departure left you feeling both bewildered and disheartened, wondering what had caused him to recoil so suddenly.

The next day, an awkward tension between you and Sihtric hung in the air like an unspoken barrier. His once-warm presence had become elusive, and you couldn't shake the growing sense of embarrassment stemming from the events of the previous evening. You certainly didn't want to ruin the budding friendship that had developed between you, especially considering the deeper feelings you had begun to hold for Sihtric.

As the next day proved to be no better, you found no recourse but to approach Finan.

"Finan, may I speak with you about Sihtric?" you began hesitantly, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Lady, you have a question? Just go ahead and ask," Finan replied tersely.

"I'm not sure how to put it," you admitted. "It seems I've upset Sihtric, but I'm at a loss as to what I've done wrong. We had a pleasant conversation about the children last night, and then he abruptly left. Now he's avoiding me."

Finan set down his sword and turned to you, his eyes scrutinising your face with a stern expression that made you slightly uncomfortable. Your cheeks flushed, and you averted your gaze, beginning to regret initiating the conversation.

"So, he finally mustered the courage to speak to you," Finan remarked with a chuckle. "I don't believe you've done anything wrong. Lady, that lad has a heart of gold, and he's been smitten with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. But, let me put it this way - he struggles with recognizing his own worth. It's not for me to share his story. Perhaps he will, when the time is right." Finan continued to fix you with a penetrating gaze, and you began to feel increasingly uneasy. Thinking the conversation was over, you turned to leave.

"Lady," Finan called out quietly, the mischievous glint in his eyes replaced by a stern and earnest expression. "Please, don't give him false hope if you're uncertain or not serious. It would shatter him, and believe me, he doesn't deserve to have his heart broken again."

You lifted your eyes to meet Finan's, and the genuine care and concern emanating from him filled you with profound appreciation for the bond that united these men.

"I promise I won't," you whispered.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the estate, you decided it was time to address the issue directly and made your way to the stables, a place where you knew Sihtric often sought solace and solitude. There, you found him leaning against a wooden post, his gaze fixed on a distant point, his expression holding a mixture of contemplation and melancholy. Seeing him in this state tugged at your heart, as you approached cautiously.

"Sihtric," you began softly, "is there something I did or said that disappointed you? I can't help but feel like something has changed between us."

He turned to look at you, his eyes full of surprise. For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, as if he was struggling to find the right words. You took a deep breath, moved a step closer, and gently placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Sihtric," you said softly, your voice brimming with sincerity, "I genuinely like you, and I don't want any awkwardness between us."

The instant your hand made contact with his shoulder, Sihtric visibly flinched. His eyes widened in surprise, and it appeared as though he had momentarily forgotten how to breathe. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that mirrored the quickening of his heart.

A medley of emotions flitted across Sihtric's face, but most of all a complete disbelief.

“You like me? No, lady, that can't be,” his response caught you off guard. You blinked in astonishment and then, almost instinctively, asked, "Why wouldn't I like you, Sihtric?"

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm a Dane," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "A bastard. A man without a future, without a place in this world. Certainly not someone deserving of being liked, especially not by a lovely Saxon lady like yourself. I apologise if I overstepped the previous night," he continued sincerely.

"It won't happen again," Sihtric added, turning as if he intended to leave.

Surprised by his words, you stood there, gazing at this grown man who appeared simultaneously strong and fearless yet vulnerable and lost, like a small child. At the last moment, you extended your hand, grasping his arm.

"Sihtric, please, wait. Why are you saying this? I don't care that you're a Dane. And, by the way, I'm not a lady. You are so much more than your heritage. You're gentle and caring with the children, always respectful and ready to help. You have a kind heart, and that's what truly matters. I like you. I like you a lot, and not just as a friend…" Your voice lowered, and you felt your cheeks flush crimson as you whispered the last words.

If anyone was overstepping, it was unquestionably you. However, in this moment, all you wished for was for this incredibly sweet man to see himself through your eyes—worthy of admiration and affection, regardless of his origins or the challenges he faced.

The weight of the conversation lingered in the air as Sihtric processed your words. There was a quiet pause between the two of you, with the gentle rustle of hay in the stables the only sound. Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, Sihtric's hand reached up to cup your chin, gently tilting your face upward until your eyes met his. In the dim light of the stable, his gaze held an intangible twinkle of delight as he tenderly caressed your face with his thumbs.

"You are so breathtakingly beautiful," he whispered. "And you're so kind and sweet…so loving and caring. You don't understand… there's nothing I can offer you in this life… you deserve something better."

You gazed into Sihtric's mismatched eyes, a tentative smile spreading across your lips as you took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before pressing his palm against your cheek, nuzzling into it.

"Sihtric, please don't feel compelled to make a decision on my behalf," you said with a warm smile, and in a sudden rush of emotions you lifted yourself onto your tiptoes and gently pressed your lips against his.

A deep sigh escaped Sihtric as he felt your lips brushing against his own. He cradled your face in both of his palms, pulling you slightly back, his eyes wide open, scanning your features with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment in them. Your heart quickened, threatening to burst from your chest. You feared you had made a fool of yourself, that he was about to reject you, and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

With a soft, lingering touch, Sihtric leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle and tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with sweetness and delicacy, infused with awe and adoration. You had never been kissed like this before. The gentle, hesitant touch of Sihtric’s tongue, the way he held you in his arms, the soft moans of delight escaping his lips, his trembling fingers cupping your cheeks – every small detail, every motion of his body spoke of hope and unending love, promising something more—a connection you had never before experienced but were willing to embrace. It swept away your breath and set your heart racing with an unseen intensity.

This was just the beginning of what felt like a fairytale for you. Later that night, as you shared your bed with Sihtric, revelling in his passionate yet gentle and affectionate touch, as he worshipped your body, you silently pondered whether to thank God or the Devil for bringing this handsome and kind-hearted man into your life. Even if loving him meant being condemned to eternal flames, you were ready and willing to embrace it.

—-----------------------------------

Panic flickered in Sihtric's worried gaze as he noticed your distress and rapid breathing.

However, the approaching sound of hoofbeats spurred you into action. With a determined effort, you summoned all your strength and began to run. You grasped Sihtric's hand for support, and together, you followed the rest of the group into the meadow.

The rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins fueled your determination, urging you to push harder. You sprinted up the hill and down to the riverside, maintaining your pace alongside Sihtric, whose firm grip on your hand served as a silent source of strength and encouragement.

The cool breeze against your face and the rhythmic thud of your footsteps helped you push through the weakness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm you. You knew you had to keep moving, to remain with the group and ensure everyone's safety.

Upon reaching the riverside, it became evident that crossing it was not an option. The riders pursuing you drew nearer and all eyes turned to Uhtred, awaiting a command, a solution, or even a miracle if need be. However, there was no easy answer he could provide. Despite the seemingly insurmountable odds against the armed horsemen approaching, Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric, and even Osferth instinctively formed a protective barrier before the children, Eadith, and you, ready to defend you all against any impending threat.

The riders closed in, and suddenly the physical and emotional strain of the sudden sprint and the overwhelming events of the past moments took their toll on you. Your strength reached its limit, and with a gasp, you collapsed to the ground, your legs no longer able to support you.

Your vision blurred as you lay there, the world spinning around you. The sound of Uhtred's voice, commanding his men to protect the children with their lives, grew distant and muffled.

The ground beneath you felt cool and unforgiving, and as darkness threatened to engulf your consciousness, you desperately clung to the unreasonable hope that Uhtred and his men would see the children through this.

Sihtric's eyes widened in panic, his heart aching as he watched you collapsing to the ground. Every muscle in his body tensed with an overwhelming desire to rush to your side, but before he could make his move, your gaze locked with his, and you vehemently shook your head. With the last remnants of your strength, you whispered urgently, "Children, you must protect the children."

The pain etched on Sihtric’s face as he continued to watch you, torn between his instinct to run to you and your final plea to safeguard the children, was palpable. He nodded in understanding, your words echoing in his mind, just as the first arrows from the approaching riders sliced through the air.

You heard a sound of someone falling to their knees near you and closed your eyes as you felt two small gentle hands, you unmistakably recognised belonging to Stiorra, cradling your head and placing it in her lap. And then everything went black.

—---------------------------------------------------

As you slowly stirred from unconsciousness, you found yourself lying in a bed, your body aching and feverish. Memories of the riverbank and the perilous encounter with the riders rushed back, leaving you wondering how you had ended up here.

Turning your gaze, you saw Sihtric sitting by the bedside, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of relief and concern. Weakly, you attempted a smile, wanting to reassure him despite your own discomfort.

Sihtric's expression softened as he noticed your effort. "You're awake," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine relief.

You nodded, your throat dry and raspy, making it difficult to speak, the pain in your body serving as a constant reminder of the ordeal you had endured.

"How are you feeling?" Sihtric inquired, his concern deepening.

With a faint, reassuring smile, you whispered, "I've been better."

Sihtric let out a relieved chuckle, the tension in the room slightly easing. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and caring.

"You gave me quite a scare," he admitted, his voice filled with gratitude. "But you're strong, and you'll recover."

You wanted to reply, but your head began to spin, and a thick fog enveloped your thoughts, pulling you back into oblivion.

“Hey, stay with me,” Sihtric's voice broke into a silent whisper, laced with anguish and concern, but you no longer heard him. He grasped your hand and lifted it to his lips, placing soft kisses all over it.

“You are strong. You have to keep fighting. You can’t leave me now. I just found you, the missing part of my heart. Don’t you dare to leave me,” he murmured, his voice choking. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness threatened to engulf him. He wanted to protect you, ready to fight an army if necessary to ensure your safety, willing to give his life for yours. And there he was sitting at your bed, unable to ease your suffering, to shield you from the illness that had taken hold of your body, slowly sapping your strength and vitality.

Sihtric remained seated, his unwavering gaze fixed on your face, his hand gently resting on your forehead, sensing the heat of your fever. From time to time, he leaned in to plant soft kisses on your hot forehead, his fingers caressing your hair, whispering his plea softly into your ear, repeating it over and over in the hope that somehow, in your unconscious state, you could still hear him. “Please, don’t give up. I need you. I need you to stay with me… please.”

As hours passed without any sign of your awakening, and your fever continued to rage, Sihtric mustered the courage to step away from your bedside and seek out Eadith and the others.

"Tell me how bad is it? And how is Aelfwynn?" The anguish etched across Sihtric's face, his eyes desperately searching Eadith's for a glimmer of hope, made her heart ache.

Eadith had witnessed it—the love-stricken look in Sihtric's eyes each time he cast a glance in your direction. Still struggling to fully believe that you reciprocate his love, he savoured every smile, every affectionate word and every gentle gesture you extended toward him. It was a love that bordered on adoration, a sweet madness that granted him purpose and strength.

Now, he was on the verge of losing you. You were slipping away. You were dying. Both of you, as Aelfwynn's condition was no better. Eadith recognized the subtle, almost imperceptible shift when the body ceased its resistance and surrendered. You both had crossed that threshold.

As much as she wished to offer some glimmer of hope or reassurance to Sihtric and the others that everything would be alright, it had long surpassed her ability to provide relief for you and Aelfwynn. It was now in the hands of God, and she envied Osferth, whom she knew was currently praying in the small chapel. His unwavering faith in God's benevolence gave him strength, whereas she had lost her own faith long ago.

Eadith slowly shook her head, averting her gaze. Words that had begun to form on her tongue froze, unable to escape her lips. To tell Sihtric the truth would mean killing him too; to cut the last, tenuous thread of hope that kept him going.

"I've been doing my best to care for them," she finally said softly. "Their fevers are high and show no sign of abating. Their strength continues to wane. They require rest and proper care."

At least it was not a complete lie, but it was far from the whole truth. It was as close as Eadith could bring herself to utter.

A faint glimmer of hope flickered within the depths of Sihtric's eyes. He clung to those last words like a drowning man clutching a small piece of driftwood, hoping it would carry him to shore, even if that shore seemed impossibly distant. They require rest and proper care - and they will manage it – those were the words he wanted to hear and thought hearing them, even if they never left Eadith’s lips.

There was no way to tell him that it no longer mattered, that the battle was already lost.

Eadith nervously chewed her lower lip, her hands aimlessly tugging at her dress. The room was filled with suffocating silence. Her gaze wandered to Uhtred, who paced around the room like a caged beast, his steps heavy and agitated. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white from tension. Several times, he raised his fists to his mouth, biting down on his index finger, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly.

She knew he was angry; it radiated from his every pore. He was angry at Edward for his weakness, his premature and ill-conceived actions driven by the fear of losing power. While Edward's intentions were to reunite the realm, his actions were actually tearing it apart. The young king's feeble attempt to resolve his problems by burdening unprotected children with them angered Uhtred more than anything else.

But among that Uhtred was angry at himself. He was furious with himself for not foreseeing this, for failing to anticipate the chaos that had unfolded, and for lacking an immediate solution. He was desperate to shake off this unreasonable feeling of being responsible together with the overwhelming need to take action, to do something, even if he didn’t know what. But he couldn't. He was a man of action, a man of solutions and inability to provide for one drew him to the brink of madness.

While Uhtred continued to pace, his breath becoming shallow and uneven, Eadith's gaze shifted to Finan, who sat alone at the table. His posture slumped, his hands clenched and unclenched, and his gaze was distant and unfocused, as if he were trapped in a labyrinth with no way out. He was afraid. Eadith had come to know this fearless warrior well by now and her heart was full of awe and admiration toward him. Yes, he was fearless, fearless in the battle, ready to stand up against as many men as needed, yet he was afraid—afraid of losing his friends to the spreading sickness, and desperate to protect them, yet fearing he might fail.

—--------------------------------------------

"I don't want to leave her, Eadith. You don't understand, nobody does. I can't leave her. She's everything I have," Sihtric's voice quivered, his hands shifting from the hilt of his axe, as if seeking reassurance, to his dishevelled hair, where he pulled hard before returning to clench around the axe hilt again.

"You won't be leaving her, Sihtric. You'll be trying to save her. We need a safe passage to Winchester and a proper healer for her, for both of them. Uhtred's plan is the best and only option we have. You're not abandoning her, Sihtric," Eadith spoke with conviction, though she couldn't help but despise herself at this moment. Was it a lie she was telling Sihtric? Not entirely. The last days had been full with half-truths, and this was just one more, but why did it hurt so much? Will he see her alive again? Probably not. But staying here will not change that, while leaving might bring a big change for the whole kingdom. If there was one man to bring Aethelflaed and Edward back on the path of peace, then it was Uhtred and he needed Sihtric.

Sihtric cast one final, longing glance at the bed. You looked too small in it, your eyes closed, your face pallid. He raised his hand and took one hesitant step toward you, as if wanting to stroke your head one more time before leaving. Turning abruptly and storming out of the room, Sihtric buried his teeth in his clenched fist with such force that blood started to trail down his arm.

“I’m not leaving you,” he whispered to himself, “You need a safe passage to Winchester, and I’ll secure it for you, no matter the cost.”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #sihtric fanfic #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic

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applejuicefruit · 1 year

Note

one where the reader has just given birth to her first child with kylian, and she has a kind of "postpartum depression", she is very insecure about her body, she is exhausted by the new routine, and whenever she has to breastfeed she cries because her breasts are still sensitive and etc... she hesitates to talk to kylian about it, but after a while he brings it up again to understand what is going on with her, they talk about everything and he comforts and cares her... if u can, please.

I love this request so much 😭

Tw: postpartum depression, depression in general, anxiety, reader being self conscious

Kylian Mbappe x reader

The way you are

Two months ago your life completely changed.

You and Kylian were expecting your first child and you were both thrilled, excited and scared. It was a rollercoaster of emotions but you couldn’t wait to meet the new addition to the family. Two months ago and you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy, Samuel, and you couldn’t be happier. He was Kylian’s twin. But now it was hard for you to get used to the new routine. It wasn’t only waking up in the middle of the night because your baby needed to be changed or fed. It was all the stress that came with the pregnancy. Everyone felt like women had to be happy they welcomed a new life on earth, had to be joyful that the pain they went through for nine months was finally over and had to know everything about taking care of a new born - but it wasn’t like that, these past two months have been hitting you really hard, both mentally and physically.

You were grateful for Kylian to be there every time you needed him, he was such a good father and a very fast learner. His family did helped you a lot too. His mom knew how much having kids could be exhausting so she made sure to watch the baby a couple days so you could rest without getting worried of being woke up.

But still, even if you had free times your mind couldn’t seem to stop. It was a constant fight between you and your brain.

Everytime you looked in the mirror you couldn’t stand the person in front of you. It wasn’t you. You didn’t recognized her. Your body got bigger with the pregnancy, your breast fuller and your legs and feet were always sore.

Breastfeeding was a living hell for you. You thought it would give you joy seeing your baby being so healthy and hungry but you hated those moments and you couldn’t help but think that something was definitely wrong with you. Your breast was always so sensitive and it hurt when Sammy was feeding that you cried every single time. You were always tired more than you were when you were pregnant. The baby took a lot of energy from you.

Kylian noticed that you became quieter and he honestly didn’t like it. You were usually a very talkative person, always bright and joyful, your positive aura protecting you and all the people around you so he started questioning what was going on with you. He waited for you to open up with him but when he saw that you didn’t he broke the silence and made the first move.

“Hey baby…” he approached you one night when you were both in bed, Samuel falling asleep in Kylian’s arms just thirty minutes earlier.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely exhausted.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked laying in bed next to you. You nodded.

“You would tell me if something is wrong, right?” he asked, trying to slowly approach the topic.

“Yes why?” you asked him a bit confused.

“I’m not judging you okay? But…I feel like you’re getting distant from me, from everyone actually and I’m a bit worried…is everything okay baby?” he asked you.

No. Nothing is okay you wanted to say. But you couldn’t complain about it because in your mind, doing all of these painful and tiring things for your baby, would have been absolutely worth it for him in the future, so as a mother you should have endured the pain and going on.

“Yes everything is okay Kylian” you lied.

“Babe please tell me what’s going on? I know you’re not okay I can see that…I just wanna help” he begged you because he hated seeing you like that.

“You wanna help me? Go and breastfeed your child!” you shouted, completely forgetting about the walls you built up and letting all of your emotions coming out “go and look at yourself in the mirror and stand there, staring at someone who’s not you but at the same time looks exactly like you! Take care of Samuel every time he needs to be fed because my breast can’t take it anymore! It hurt Kylian! It hurt so fucking much you have no idea and there’s nothing I can do about it because I am a mom and I shouldn’t be complaining because these are normal things to do but I can’t do it! It’s fucking exhausting and I feel so bad because all I want to do is love my child but I feel like I can’t do it because of all of the pain I’m going though…you have no idea Kylian how every single inch of my body hurts!” you said, completely breaking down.

Kylian was shocked and hurt because he wished he realised sooner that this new routine was completely killing you.

“Baby…hear me out. I love you and that’s not gonna change. I loved your body before and I love your body now because it’s yours. It’s you y/n and I love you just the way you are…” he said holding you in his arms “I’m so sorry you feel this way baby, I really am…I wish I could do something for helping you with the pain…we can try some massages if you want to? I’m open to do anything in my power to make you feel comfortable” he said from the bottom of his heart because he couldn’t stand the idea of you being in pain “what you’re going through it’s normal baby…a lot of women go through postpartum depression and I think talking with a specialist might help you, only if you’re up for it, it’s up to you, but whatever you decide to do I’m here, to help you and support you. You’re not alone in this okay?” he softly said while leaving gentle kisses to your neck.

You calmed down listening to his voice and you were so grateful for having someone like him by your side.

“Thank you Kylian” you said wiping your tears away.

“Don’t thank me baby…I’m here, I will always be here for you, and Sammy, you two are the most important people in my life and I love you so much” he said truthfully.

You fell asleep in his arms, while he softly massaged your back and neck, trying to ease the pain.

#kylian mbappe #kylian x reader #kylianmbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe x you #psg #paris saint germain #equipe de france #football fan #football imagine #football one shot #football blurb #football drabble

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sugasiren · 1 year

Text

◇ Astro Notes! (The HELL NO Edition) ◇

**FYI: Every Zodiac Sign has value. I hate no one, just have my preferences.

😑 Taurus Mars: HELL NO. Y'all move too fucking slow! And often stay stubborn about dumb shit.

😑 Taurus Suns: HELL NO. Too fucking boring - good God Almighty, change it up already! Lol. Also incapable of admitting when they're wrong and/or acting bitter whenever they *do* actually apologize.

😑 6th House Stellium Individuals: HELL NO. They give me major Mannequin vibes! 🤣 Have struggles with emotional constipation & being inauthentic. Too in their heads & often Debbie-Downers to be around. The 6H even waters down strong Scorpio & Aries energy! 🤷🏾‍♀️ They are less "juicy" than others of their ilk. *Dislike*

😑 Virgo Sun Males: HELL NO. Overly critical, self-righteous assholes. 💯 Who are oftentimes *more* petty & gossipy than women. Never satisfied! Yuck lol

😑 Pisces Mars: HELL NO. Obscenely passive-aggressive and whiney people. Say what you mean and mean what you say or STFU already. 👍🏾 Thanks!

😑 Sagittarius Moon: HELLO NO. Way too damn moody for me. Extreme highs & lows constantly with them. Can be overly preachy at times, too.

😑 Gemini/Cancer Combo: HELL NO. Batshit crazy bastards!! Their mood swings are like emotional tsunamis and you never know when they're coming. Extremely petty people who can make unwise decisions with unsavory consequences. "Dish it, but can't take it" types. 💯 The men care about you one minute... and are throwing you in the trash the next - over nothing.

😑 Scorpios w/ Virgo Moon: HELL NO. Control Freaks to infinity & beyond!! Think of Regina from Mean Girls. Backstabber Energy. Very imposing presence - they like to intimidate others. 💪 Back TF up, fool. Not having it over here. Bye, now.

😑 Aquarius Stelliums: HELL NO. These MFers are like the most advanced Calculus - overly complicated & just plain difficult for NO damn reason. I hate Math, too! 🤣 They treat their Love Interests like "friends" and then silently die inside when you ghost them or turn away. WTF did you expect?? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Stop fearing intimacy - that aloof shit gets old, fam. And stop demanding that everyone be "open-minded" when you yourself are often VERY stuck in your own unconventional beliefs.

😑 Leo Suns (unevolved): HELL NO. Total headaches to endure & the absolute WORST ever. 🤣 Unwarranted Egos that *I* pop like a fucking balloon. Their need for constant validation is exhausting & they're absurdly selfish. They give bratty 7 year-old girl vibes!! You know The Lion King right? Unevolved Leos are like Scar. Mature Leos are like Mufasa - the polar opposite & my favorite people on the planet, actually. ☀️ So Lions can be a hit or miss.

Thanks for reading Darlings! 💕 More to come soon.

#leo #leo sun #taurus #astro notes #astro observations #6th house #virgo #sagittarius moon #taurus mars #pisces mars #gemini #cancer #aquarius stellium #aquarius venus #scorpio sun #scorpio astrology

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quotemenevervore · 6 months

Text

Like a seesaw that only goes down

Hey @i-am-beckyu guess what I finished?

Part one at least, I have another part already a good chunk in the works and hopefully won’t take as long as this part did to come out ; - ;

(Tw for fear and panic, thoughts of dangerous scenarios)

Tommy hated camping. It was a simple fact. He didn’t like being outside, with all the bugs and he didn’t like all the physical labor that went into camping to begin with. He did, however, like Tubbo. So when his friend asked him to come with him on a camping trip, he couldn’t find it in him to say no.

He doesn’t see Tubbo too often anymore, thanks to the constant transferring of foster homes. Thankfully, the current home he was in didn’t really care about his whereabouts, which left him able to pack a bag and meet his friend at the park.

“Hey!” Tubbo happily greeted, a large backpack resting heavily on the brunette’s shoulders. “Geez, you bring enough stuff?” Tommy eyed the bag for a moment. “Yea! Got the tents, the sleeping bags, the cooking equipment,” rolling his eyes at the list, he looked around the park, trying to locate the other’s parents.

“Hey, Tubbo?” “Yeah?” He abruptly cut off his rambling. “Where’re your parents?” “Oh! They said I’m old enough to go without supervision. So it’s just us this time!” Nodding, he quickly turned off the train of thoughts that followed that both envied and worried for his friend. Old memories flickered through his mind of being on his own without being old enough to care for himself. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he really liked being with Tubbo’s family. It was endearing to watch them interact together, and a reminder to himself that maybe one day he’d fit into a family as close knit and kind as Tubbo’s. “Right, so same spot as usual?” “You know it! Let’s get going.”

~ ~ ~

Tommy groaned, flopping down on the hard floor of the tent. Tubbo simply laughed at him, sitting beside the blonde. “That was too much running.” “It was just uphill, Toms.” “Uphill! That’s the most difficult thing to run!” “You’ve got to get out more, boss man. I swear, one day you’re gonna need to run from a threat and it’s not gonna work out for you.” “Like it’ll ever come to that.” Tommy scoffed, turning his head away. Tubbo hummed softly, thinking of a new conversation topic.

“Y’know, I’m amazed that logs held up so long. I think that log’s been the bridge since dad started taking me here.” “You trying to jinx us or something? Don’t talk about how old the log is! What if it crumbles while we’re walking on it?” “Well, if you had good endurance it wouldn’t be an issue.” “Oh for the love of-“ he swung a hand over, attempting to hit the brunette, only for his hand to get caught and pushed back towards him. “Let’s make some food, then get some sleep. Since you’re just so exhausted.” Tubbo teased once more before slipping out of the tent, leaving Tommy scrambling to sit up and follow him, scowling at the jab.

~ ~ ~

After a short meal of canned soup and s’mores, the boys responsibly put the fire out and crawled back into the tent as the sun went down, intending on getting some sleep before having fun the next day. Or.. that was the original plan. Tubbo was sound asleep. Tommy wished he was, but his mind was as wide as his eyes, staring at the top of the tent. He was aching for something to shut his mind off, and eventually, his body found itself outside. Just a quick walk on the trail across, surely that’ll turn his brain off, right?

Of course, nothing ever went how it should have for him. Just as he made it halfway across the log, there was a loud crack that made him flinch harshly. What made him flinch harder was the sudden lurch the log gave after, and with his limited vision he was just barely able to see on the other side what had happened. The log came loose, and had begun to sink into the soft mud of the shores.

Fuck, fuck fuck!

He twisted around, finding that the log on that side had also begun to sink, leaving him slightly off balance and barely able to keep his footing on the sinking wood. There was shifting to the direction he had tried to go, and at first he didn’t pay any mind to it. But it grew deafeningly loud, and rattled the log, making it sink ever so faster. So he twisted his body to see the interruption.

And boy did he regret it.

Large- no, giant brown eyes peered at him from above the tree line. Equally brown curls covered the giant’s head, but that was all he could gather before his lungs stuttered and he was forcibly reminded to breathe. What. The. Fuck!?

Since when were giants real!?

He knew his eyes were wide and likely full of fear and disbelief, but it wasn’t just the giant that kept his veins running ice. The log sank into the soft sand once again, and he glared at the large eyes looming before him, struggling to keep his feeting on the wet log. Were he in a better state of mind, he may have noticed the concern in the eyes, but for the moment he focused on trying to lower down so he wasn’t off balance.

The log shifted again, and he fell hard with a yelp, scratching his arms up on the bark as he tried to sit back up. By the time he looked up, the log was moving again, sinking faster through the mud. His face paled when he realized the danger he was in. The river was running rampant, there would be no surviving if he got caught in the current. He was stuck in the middle of the log, and if he tried to run to either side, he’d probably fall anyway.

Then there was the giant. “Let me help you,” a voice boomed, though extremely softly. He’d come further out the tree line, and Tommy could barely see the yellow sweater the giant had. More importantly, he saw his hands twitching near the shoreline. Ice gripped his heart at the idea. It could eat him, crush him, rip him limb by limb-

The log sunk further, hitting a rock and jolting the entire fallen tree. Tommy yelped, almost slipping off the log and trying desperately to keep his tremors from messing up his grip. His mind raced with his two options. He could let the giant grab him, and do whatever may happen to him, or sink in the river.

He.. didn’t want to drown. It seemed longer than whatever the giant would do to him.. he couldn’t let himself think on it. He just had to do it.

“Help me!” He yelled back, and within the next second he was yanked away from the log with a force that disoriented him. It was suffocatingly warm, and he struggled briefly to be reexposed to the cool night air. After being raised up a few more seconds, something that made Tommy’s stomach drop, he was granted that wish. Unfortunately, his new sight made his stomach drop worse and his heart to hammer painfully against his ribs. He was closer to the giant’s face than before, cradled gently in his open palm. One hand was hovering slightly behind him, ready to grab him at a moment’s notice.

‘Probably doesn’t wanna lose his snack,’ he thought bitterly. “Are you alright?” The voice was soft again despite rattling through his bones, and Tommy was reminded once more of the immense danger he was in. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save, can I be let down now though?” His tongue felt slightly numb, and internally he cursed how stuttered and wrong his words came out. “Oh! Yea, I forgot humans don’t really like being held. Here,” the giant slowly lowered his hand to the ground, giving Tommy the ability to jump off.

Finally, he felt the ability to breathe return to him, and he took a moment to recollect the air he’d lost from the scare. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” Again, the giant asked. “Uh, no. I’m good, big man.” “That’s a relief. I thought the log would last a lot longer than it did.” The giant frowned, and Tommy was quick to take a step back.

“Yea..” his attention was back on Tommy in no time, though. “I’m Wilbur, by the way.” Should he really tell the giant his name? He didn’t give it much thought, sure either scenario that would play out would result in him not caring much about the giant knowing. “Tommy.” “It’s nice to meet you, though I’d much rather it be in better circumstances. Speaking of..” There was concern in his eyes again. “Why are you out so late at night? Even the campers stay in their tents.” “Yea, I uh.. couldn’t sleep. Wanted to take a walk to clear my head. You saw how well that went.” He grimaced, looking towards the river.

“Is your tent on the other side? I can carry you over there.” “You’re gonna get in the river?” “I’m going to have to anyway, I have to fix the log. It’s no trouble, really.” The giant was quick to reassure, and honestly it should have made the blonde more wary, but it didn’t. A hand was offered for him to climb on- hah, climb on. Maybe he was just dreaming this all up- and with the sudden crash from adrenaline at that thought, he took it.

“You’re not camping by yourself, are you? You’re awfully young, where are your parents?” He frowned at the question, averting his eyes away from the giant. “I ain’t that young, I’m a big man. we’re old enough that they said we could come camping by ourselves. My friend’s over there.” Should he have really told this giant he had a friend nearby!? “Oh.” The man didn’t falter, but there was a strange emotion behind his actions. “That’s fine..” he nodded, seemingly to himself. “Getting ready to move, steady yourself.”

Tommy took a breath, pressing his hand against the palm under him in an attempt to keep himself in place as the hand slowly began to rise under him. It stayed as steady as the giant could manage, even as they began to rise and step through the foliage.

He looked up, catching the wrinkle of distaste on the giant's face. His stomach flipped, but before he could question it, they moved again, this time a huge step which he realized was them crossing the river.

“Not a fan of getting my clothes wet. It’s all I have to sleep in.” Wilbur sheepishly explained, carefully lowering himself down to the ground. “The campground should be close by.” His voice softened greatly as he was slowly lowered from the giant’s chest towards the forest floor. Sure enough, as his feet hit the ground, he could see their tent, the smoke from the fire having finally snuffed out.

He nodded to himself, lowering himself the rest of the way out of the giant’s hand, and tried not to flinch as the hand retreated. “Well, hopefully your night goes a little better.” “Yea, uh, back at you.” Tommy nodded to the brunette, who smiled and began retreating across the river again. But he was still unable to shake the feeling of being watched, and quickly made his way to the tent, hoping the next crash of adrenaline would knock him out.

As his brain finally let him drift off, he could hear the world moving around him, but.. it seemed unnatural. As if things were bigger than they should have been. He chose to leave it alone.

~ ~ ~

The last thing Wilbur wanted to hear was the loud cracking sound of the log pulling away from its anchor in the shore, and a small yelp. Curled up in the cave he normally hid in, he snapped to attention quickly, pulling himself out and quickly rising to his full height. It didn’t take him long to race to the pathway, worried about the safety of whoever had made that yelp.

He was a giant. Well, a giant shifter. He was already mentally preparing how to help this human as he finally came into view of them, but his mind completely halted when he took in the boys features. Not fully obvious from his standpoint, but enough; dirty, tangled hair and super baggy clothes. Most of the humans that came through here wore.. better clothes, at least better shoes than the raggedy sneakers the kid seemed to have on. Catching his eyes, he couldn’t see anything but fear, riling his instincts up secretly. But.. no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t destroy this kid’s trust, he needed to help him. It took longer than he hoped as the log continued sinking, and he was afraid he would have to grab the teen against his will, but he was given the okay and Wilbur was fast to pull him out of the risky situation.

Holding him in his hand, close to his face, he couldn’t deny it. This boy wasn’t being cared for. Multiple scars littered what he could see of his arms and legs, most looking like running into trouble be it nature or people. His clothes were a lot baggier than Wilbur would have liked, especially from first glance. The boy’s eyes, while still bright, had an achingly familiar dullness to them.

Phil needs to know about this.

He kept his introduction short, and helped ‘Tommy’ back to the side of the river he was meant to be on, with a ‘friend’. After that was done, and he no longer saw or heard the boy walking away, he tried to focus on his next task. The log was gone, so they would definitely need a new way to traverse the river. Thankfully, he knew just the tree to use.

An already dead one, the roots long and curled around anything it could. Wilbur took care this time to wrap the roots around the roots of the closest tree to shore, packing it down with clay and mud to hopefully make it stick this time. He’d have to leave the other side to the humans, if he went over there now he’d wake the poor boy he just sent to bed. Nodding to himself after finishing what he could, he made his way back to the cave he was residing in.

Curling back up in the cave, he found that those dulled sapphire eyes did not leave his mind. He sighed, knowing he was in for a long night.

Not only that, but Phil would be in for a long morning, when he could finally shrink back down to human size.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #fake fic title #seesaw au #my goodness life is kicking my ASS #I’m trying to bounce back guys lol #tiny!tommy #shapeshifter!wilbur

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to-dance-beneath-the-diamond-sky · 10 days

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I’m so fucking sick of all my friends and all the non-organizer people in my life not fucking showing up for Palestine. Like Jesus Christ it’s like pulling teeth trying to get them to do anything. Sure a few of them will send the email and call tools but they almost never do anything more than that. It’s always “I already have plans” “I’m feeling drained today” “I needed to stop at McDonald’s because it was convenient” and I’m just so fucking sick of it. Like it’s one thing if it’s one time. But it’s such a fucking pattern. Sometimes you actually can cancel or change your plans to go to something more important. You can go to an action or an event even though you’re tired and drained and not feeling great. You can actually choose to be hungry for 30 minutes longer because you don’t want to support an actual BDS target. Stop fucking prioritizing your own comfort over fighting to end a genocide we're all complicit in whether we want to be or not every single fucking day.

Im so fucking sick of all the excuses from everyone all the time as to why they can’t or don’t show up for Palestine. I go to shit all the fucking time even when I’m exhausted even when I feel like shit and when I’m tired and burned out and in pain. Because that’s what it means to be in solidarity. I cancel my other plans and I prioritize working to help stop a genocide. I'm so fucking sick of people in my life barely even doing the bare fucking minimum. And I’m so fucking sick of not calling them out on it. Especially the people that I’m not that close with because I don’t want to burn the bridge purely because I know they might at some point do something useful to the fight. If it weren’t for the potential that they might sometimes occasionally do something small to contribute to the fight, I would just cut them out completely because it’s not like they’re even good friends to me (some of them are actually pretty shitty) and I don’t respect people who don’t want to fight against injustice and oppression and a fucking genocide.

I’m so fucking sick of having to extensively thank everyone every time they actually fo show up to something or bother to do something for Palestine. Like I have to fucking praise them and thank them for being an ally and actually taking action for once. Because I feel like if I don’t then they won’t ever do anything ever again.

I’m so fucking sick of people not showing up for Palestine. I’m so fucking sick of all the constant excuses. At some point excuses add up to a pattern, and the pattern is people don’t care enough about Palestine to endure any kind of discomfort or make any kind of sacrifice

#personal #free palestine #palestine #community organizing #At this point I feel like the only people who understand me are other organizers #Even my closest friends don’t understand #Even my closest friends don’t do enough #And yeah I do fucking judge them for it

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writing-intheundercroft · 5 months

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When We're Older || Mine

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9,640

Chapter Rating: Explicit (warning: smut, PIV sex, NSFW, MDNI)

A/N: Thank you as always to my beta, @happyaccidentsonly :) chapter updates may be a little slower with the holidays fast approaching, but still loving this story and Seb <3

November 1892

“What are you doing on Saturday?”

Theo looked up at Sebastian; her hair was in a long plait, and he couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the end. She was used to the gesture, knowing he wanted her attention.

“I was planning on staying in,” Theo shivered. It was November, and the winter chill had arrived early. “We’ve got exams coming up, and my brain is still buzzing from the Halloween masquerade last weekend.” she groaned.

Sebastian smiled at the memory; the masquerade had been a highlight of his fall term, the night spent dancing around the Three Broomsticks with Theo, dressed in matching serpentine masks. He’d tugged her upstairs to the room Sirona rented to long term boarders, hastily casting silencio and a locking charm on the door. They had been the last ones to leave the pub, Sirona commanding them out the door at midnight. When Sebastian had returned for his shift the following morning, she’d made him scrub the room from top to bottom.

Worth it, he thought.

“I was thinking we could have a quick dinner together,” Sebastian lazily threw his arm around her. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a night just the two of us.”

“Are you sure about that?” Theo raised her eyebrows, fighting back a salacious smile.

Sebastian rolled his eyes; bribing Deek to stay out of their business in the Room of Requirement would soon bankrupt him. “I meant a proper date. You and I, sitting down to dinner with one another, in a public establishment.” he shrugged. “Saturday, early evening? We can get back in time to quiz each other on the potions exam.”

Theo kissed the back of his hand. “Saturday it is.” she said happily.

The pair walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; Sebastian settled into the desk he shared with Ominis, while Theo sat across the room with Natty.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Ominis chirped.

“A bit,” Sebastian mumbled. “Spent most of it studying for the Runes exam. Don’t tell her, please.”

“I won’t, but you know she’ll figure out you failed the last quiz eventually.” Ominis cautioned him.

Sebastian was exhausted. Terribly, unbelievably happy for the first time in what felt like eons, but absolutely exhausted. Between working for Sirona, researching solutions for Theo, and keeping up on his classes, Sebastian was averaging no more than five hours of sleep a night. His regimen, which he’d artfully crafted the year prior to keep him on task, had become a burden. Sebastian was up for the day by five o’clock, and usually collapsing into a deep sleep at midnight. Theo was constantly chastising him for staying up, but he couldn’t help it–his grades were slipping in all his subjects, and he kept falling behind on his assignments for Ancient Runes. Even Amit, one of the most agreeable students at Hogwarts, had moved to his own desk after enduring two months of Sebastian’s constant questions.

The only nights Sebastian ever got a decent sleep were the ones spent sharing a bed with Theo. Deek had become quite the clever businessman, suddenly increasing the requested rate to leave the two of them alone. He was happy to pay the fee, often collapsing face down into the Room of Requirement’s plush bed. The room was now more often being used for them to snuggle and catch up on sleep, the stack of contraceptive potions Professor Sharp had left in the dorm rooms being left untouched.

That fact itself drove Sebastian to the brink of insanity, but pleasure would have to take a back seat to his sleep needs.

“Everyone up, out of your seats!” Professor Hecat called out. As all the students stood, she whisked their desks to the side of the room with her wand. “Today we will be practicing with an exceptionally foul boggart. Mr. Moon uncovered it over the summer, and it will soon be transported to the Department of Mysteries for further study.”

The room devolved into whispers; Sebastian looked over at Theo, eagerly craning her head. Any mention of the department of mysteries nowadays had her complete attention. Professor Weasley and Professor Hecat maintained that she was the top candidate for their recommendation, and she’d already been introduced to the head of the department.

“Professor, is it safe?” Amit asked anxiously.

Professor Hecat gave a sly grin. “Of course it is, Mr. Thakkar. All of you have been well trained in the riddikulus spell, but this will be a test of your adaptivity and swiftness in dealing with the dark arts. Now, if the class can line up, we’ll get started.”

Sebastian wove through the other students to the front of the class. “Professor, might I have a moment?” he asked.

Hecat looked up at him; Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d grown over the summer until he towered over his favorite professor. “Yes, Sallow?”

Sebastian scratched the back of his neck. “I wondered if I might sit this one out.” he said sheepishly. “My boggart…well, it’s Anne, usually. And I think it would be quite traumatizing for everyone to see her…uh, incapacitated.” the sentence tumbled out of his mouth.

Hecat gave him a sympathetic look. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Sebastian. I understand–you may sit on the sidelines for this activity.”

Sebastian sat on the edge of a desk while the rest of the group lined up. Theo and Ominis were towards the back, chattering with the other students.

“For today’s exercise, one must remember casting the spell is far more complex than one would originally believe–you must maintain composure, otherwise you’ll fall victim to your fears.” Hecat announced. She summoned a rumbling chest out of her office; it flew to the center of the classroom.

Banishing a boggart at their skill level should be fairly easy, Sebastian thought. It would be an easy outstanding grade for anyone in their class. Despite Hecat claiming the boggart was particularly nasty, almost everyone had tamed the boggart in one try, laughter erupting amongst the group. Hecat leaned against the wall, grinning at her students. One might even argue the exercise was fun, a moment of levity for the seventh years as they prepared for their term exams. If Sebastian didn’t already know what his boggart was, he would’ve eagerly joined in.

Amit’s boggart was a werewolf; Everett’s was the giant squid. Poppy and Natty both faced poachers, while Garreth put up with his aunt Matilda screaming at him. Imelda’s greatest fear appeared to be not making a professional quidditch squad, which had the entire class laughing and the boggart quaking to return to its shelter.

Ominis nonchalantly walked into the boggart’s range, wand at the ready. His boggart manifested as a black cloud, emitting the voice of his older brother Marvolo. However, he seemed unphased, swishing his wand to transform it into a giant puffskein. Sebastian laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye; had Hobhouse been in their class, he likely would have wet himself.

Last up, Theo swaggered up to the boggart, cheekily flicking her wand in preparation. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face as she braced herself. Sebastian was curious to see what hers was–for all that they’d discussed, she’d never spoken about her fears before. It often felt like Theo wasn’t afraid of anything; how could she be, when she’d bravely charged against a troll on her first day of school?

The puffskein disappeared, swirling into gray matter. Theo’s arrogant smile faltered when it reached its final form. Sebastian had expected the boggart to take the form of Victor Rookwood or Ranrok, the two menaces who’d terrorized her during fifth year.

Instead, the class silently stared at the boggart, which had taken the form of Professor Fig. Although it didn’t look quite right; he looked quite unnatural. His eyes were glowing red, similar to Theo when she had her power surges. The real Fig always had a bright, jovial expression on his face in life; Boggart Fig looked weary and tired.

“ I’m so disappointed in you,” Boggart Fig scolded. “How could you? ”

Theo’s mouth dropped, her wand slightly faltering. “R-r-riddikulus,” she stuttered.

The boggart swirled into gray matter again, shifting forms. Her boggart changed from Fig to a strange looking woman with dark brown hair, gathered into a neat bun at her neck. She held a hand out to Theo, her smile eerie and unsettling. Sebastian had only seen her in the memories from the triptyque, but now Isidora Morganach was standing before the entire class.

Theo gasped, dropping her wand.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what possessed him. He charged off the desk towards the center of the room, pushing Theo out of the boggart’s way. He knew exactly what his boggart would be–Anne, cold and gray on the floor. There would be no surprises; Solomon had taught him how to banish it without a second thought.

The matter swirled in the thick classroom air, and the form of a girl manifested on the ground. However, it wasn’t Anne. It was Theo, writhing in pain, sparks of red emitting from her body. Unlike Theo’s fictional Professor Fig or Isidora, the boggart didn’t need to imagine what she’d look like twisted on the floor. It fed directly off Sebastian’s memories, perfectly recreating what Theo looked like in front of the Scriptorium door, down to the exact cameo pin she’d been wearing in her ponytail that day.

“ Riddikulus !” Sebastian panted.

The boggart relented. Boggart Theo stood up from the floor, a twisted smile on her face, not too different from Isidora's expression. She looked entirely unaffected from the cruciatus curse; instead, her eyes were glimmering red as she held her wand up to Sebastian’s neck.

Sebastian felt himself being tugged away, falling onto the ground. Professor Hecat was waving her wand, banishing the boggart back to its chest. Heaving, he looked up to see Theo splayed out on the floor across from him, covering her eyes with her hands. Ominis was kneeling at her side, whispering to her.

Sebastian turned to look at the rest of the class. Everyone had somber looks on their faces, pushed back to the perimeter of the classroom. Everett was already whispering into Eric Northcott’s ear, and Natty had her hand pressed against her mouth in shock. Sebastian felt a trickle of worry–Natty was the only person he knew who’d also faced the cruciatus curse, and she likely recognized the spell.

“Alright, class is dismissed.” Hecat called out. “And do know that if I hear any unseemly gossip about our exercise around the castle, perpetrators will be punished.” she snarled. “Sallow, in my office. Mr. Gaunt, please stay with Miss Caulfield for a moment.”

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, knowing that no matter how much Hecat threatened, the rumors would be floating around the castle in minutes. First, that the hero of Hogwarts had been unable to banish a boggart; secondly, that her greatest fear was Professor Fig. Astoria Crickett would have a field day rehashing that rumor, and he mentally prepared himself for the backlash that would follow.

Sebastian trailed behind Professor Hecat to her office; he looked back at Theo, who was sitting dejectedly on a desktop while Ominis held her hand. Sebastian knew it was unreasonable, unfathomable–but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t the one reassuring Theo.

The door shut behind him, and Sebastian settled uncomfortably into the seat across Hecat’s desk.

“I expected better of you, Mr. Sallow.” Hecat tutted, sitting at her desk. “While I admire your heroism, you must allow Miss Caulfield to fail .”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped. “Professor, she was mortified–”

“And she will learn from her mistakes,” Hecat said sternly. “That is the point of being a student, is it not?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

“I see your fears have changed as well, Mr. Sallow.” Hecat cleared her throat. “You believed your boggart would be your sister, but it seems to be Miss Caulfield. And you appear to be fearful of her being in pain.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly, wondering where Professor Hecat was going. “Y-yes.” he stuttered.

Hecat folded her hands on the desk. “Sallow, has Theodora told you she’s been a target of the cruciatus curse?” she asked softly. “As your professor, you can tell me. I know she suffered quite a bit at the hands of the ashwinders during your fifth year.”

Sebastian’s heart fell into his stomach, his organs twisting with guilt. “She hasn’t,” he gulped. “Only I worry about it, with her constantly putting herself in danger.” he hated how easily the lie came out of him.

Hecat eased into her chair. “I understand the two of you are close–love always does seem to grow between good friends. But I must urge you, if you are still planning on my recommendation for the curse breaker program, you need to wisen up.” she warned. “Your blossoming relationship may be interfering with your future career prospects.”

Sebastian felt sick to his stomach. “I really am trying, Professor,” he said weakly.

“Sallow, I fear you’re stretching yourself too thin.” Hecat sighed. “Professor Twiney has informed me that you’ve barely passed the last two Ancient Runes exams, and you know a mastery of the subject is required for the cursebreaker program. You also failed the latest potions practical exam.”

Sebastian shamefully hung his head. “I know, Professor, it’s just been a lot–”

“This is the most important year of your studies, Sebastian. You’ve always been a bright boy, and you’ve persevered through more than most students could ever imagine–you must push through.” Hecat said determinedly. She stood, walking around from the desk to put a hand on his shoulder. While Sebastian knew it was meant to be reassuring, it only made him feel worse.

“I understand, Professor.” Sebastian said, looking up at the woman.

Hecat smiled, eyes wrinkling at the corners, and she patted his shoulder. “You may leave, but send Miss Caulfield in after you.”

Sebastian walked out of her office on unsteady feet; Ominis was sitting on top of the desk with Theo, still holding her hand. Sebastian fought back his frown as he walked up to his two best friends, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hecat wants to see you now,” he muttered.

Theo’s eyes had returned to their natural brown, and she slipped off the desk without another word. Sebastian’s eyes followed her as she walked up the stairs, the door slipping shut behind her.

“Well, that was enough drama for one day,” Ominis huffed. He elegantly hopped off the desk, brushing his hands against his robes. “Should we head to lunch?”

Sebastian followed him wordlessly through the hallways, Ominis chattering about their classmates and their fears. He was trying to fill the silence, Sebastian realized; Ominis never spoke that much. It was the first signal that something was wrong, that Theo had said something to their blind companion that had clearly shook him.

Ominis had his hand against the Great Hall’s doors, pausing when he heard Sebastian clear his throat.

“What is it?” Ominis hesitated.

“What did she say to you?” Sebastian asked, gritting his teeth. “She must have said something.”

“Sebastian, now is hardly the time,” Ominis began, but he was swiftly cut off.

“What did Theo say, Om?” Sebastian asked quietly this time. “I need to know.”

Ominis inhaled sharply, turning to face him. Sebastian knew Ominis couldn’t see him; his wand was down at his side. But after years of living with one another, the boys knew each other and their mannerisms too well.

“She thinks you’re afraid of her.” Ominis said plainly.

Theo had been excused from her classes for the rest of the day; Sebastian had impatiently tapped his foot all through his last class in anticipation of finding her. The second the final bell had rung, Sebastian took off running from his arithmancy classroom, bolting through the hallways to get back to the common room before Theo could slink up to her room. He didn’t care about the prefects yelling at him; he clung onto his book bag as he tore through the hallways down to the dungeons. He nearly tumbled down the spiral stairs to the common room, his eyes raking the room for a familiar head of black hair.

“Have you seen Theo?” He gasped, turning to Grace and Imelda, who were sitting on the couch.

Imelda shook her head. “Haven’t seen her since this morning. She’s not in our room either."

“Imelda told us what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts—Astoria Crickett and her crew were back stirring up nonsense about her and Professor Fig.” Grace advised. “I would leave her be, Sebastian.”

Like hell , Sebastian thought. He immediately turned, running back up the stairs, two steps at a time. He was sure he looked like a complete idiot, but nothing could stop him from his search. The Room of Requirement was the only place he could think of, and the trek from the dungeons to the top of the Astronomy Tower was an excruciating run. Sebastian felt his stomach churning as he turned the top of the stairs, heaving as he pushed open the door.

“Mister Sallow,” Deek squeaked. “Deek wasn’t expecting you this evening,” he said hesitantly.

“Have you seen Theo?” Sebastian choked out. “I’ve been looking for her.”

Deek shook his head. “Miss Theo hasn’t been here all day, not since she picked up her potions this morning.” he gestured over to her potions station, which for once, wasn’t bubbling.

Sebastian groaned; if she wasn’t in the Room of Requirement, it meant she was likely in Undercroft. At least the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower was a quick walk away. He quickly bid the house elf goodbye, trying his best not to fall down the stairs as he made his way to the other wing of the castle. Dodging all of the other students, on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, Sebastian began jogging through the hall. He passed Professor Ronen’s classroom, going down the mahogany stairs. He stopped to catch his breath on the third floor, looking up at the rich tapestries on the wall. He’d always see Theo sitting on the benches against them, waiting for her private tutoring sessions with Professor Fig.

Professor Fig, whose office was just down the hall.

It all became obvious to him then, thinking back to the nights Theo would disappear from the common room towards the end of fifth year. Things had still been awkward between them, but he always made sure to check on her usual hiding spots. On one particular night, he’d decided to check Professor Fig’s office, finding her curled up on the chair. He’d held her while she cried, wetting his shirt; the moment had rekindled their friendship.

Sebastian changed his course, his brisk pace slowing as he approached the room. The room had been locked for the majority of sixth year while the ministry carried out their inquiry on his death. Ever since they’d returned for seventh year, the classroom had been open, now just a storage space. Mr. Moon had just cast a basic locking charm on the door, easy for any student to bypass. Sebastian slipped through the door, shutting it softly behind him. The classroom was empty, but he could hear a gramophone playing in the distance, up in the office.

“Theo?” Sebastian murmured, pushing the door in wider.

Theo was sitting on a dusty chair, the one in the corner of the room. Her feet were tucked underneath her as she waved her wand, little paper birds flying in the air. The gramophone was playing the same song it always played–one of Professor Fig’s favorites, Sebastian presumed.

“They took all of his belongings when the ministry finished their inquiry,” Theo mused. “Black claimed most of the artifacts belonged to the school, so they’re somewhere around the castle. Most of his personal effects were put away in a Gringotts vault, for when I turned seventeen.”

“He named you his heir?” Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

She nodded. “Professor Weasley told me when she gave me Miriam’s watch for my birthday. Honestly, it made me feel worse–like I’ve let him down.” she uttered.

Sebastian knelt down on the floor in front of her. “Theo, he would’ve been so proud of you.” he whispered. “He would’ve never been disappointed in you.”

“We were talking about what I’d do with the repository,” Theo was fighting back tears. “He said I was being wise, leaving the power in the repository. He promised we’d research over the summer, figure out what to do with Isidora’s magic. We were brainstorming a solution together when Ranrok attacked.”

Sebastian pulled her hand into his. “You did the right thing. You went back for the power to keep the school safe, you said so yourself. Fig would’ve agreed, Theo.”

Her eyes were shut tightly, her fingers laced through his. “That’s not what you were telling me over the summer,” she said cautiously. “Are you afraid of me?”

Sebastian froze. “That’s what you’re so upset about?” he panted. “That I would be afraid of you?”

“I overheard you talking to Ominis while I was in bed, about my eyes.” she claimed. Sebastian felt a flicker of shame; he hadn’t realized she’d been awake to hear them. “That you’re not sure you trust me. And you…you want to fix me, when I’m not sure there’s anything to fix.”

“Theo, that’s not how I meant it.” Sebastian assured her.

“Then why am I your boggart?” Theo asked, sniffling. “Boggarts show your true fears, and yours showed me, my eyes.” she accused him. “You’re lying to me.”

“I might have been scared at first,” Sebastian admitted, “but I know you, Theo. I know you could never hurt me. I only worry about losing you.” He grasped their hands together, squeezing them tight. “Theo, I’ve already lost so much. My parents, Anne…we don’t know what this power will do to you. We don’t even know how it’s possible for you to hold it within.”

“I do know,” Theo echoed softly. “I’ve known for a while. Or at least I think I do.”

“Tell me,” Sebastian pleaded. "Explain it to me, I'm begging you."

Theo pursed her lips together, letting out a low sigh. “I told you I took the power because I thought it wasn’t safe under the school. That was only partly true.” she fumbled with his fingers. “I lied to you. That’s not the only reason.”

“What is it, Theo?” Sebastian asked, fearful of her answer.

She looked up at him, brown eyes wet with tears. “I did it because I love you, Sebastian.” she confessed. “Before I even had romantic feelings for you, I loved you. I think I was yours before I even knew I wanted you.”

“Why would you do it? For me, of all people?” Sebastian strained.

Theo chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you all this time, one that would hurt you.” she admitted.

Sebastian was silent, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ve been healing Anne for the past year,” Theo wiped at her eyes. “I meet with her once a month, maybe two. I never know when I’ll see her next; she sends me an owl when the pain starts to flare up again.”

Sebastian felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Anne?” he croaked. “She’s okay?”

Theo nodded, wisps of her black hair sticking to her tear stained cheeks. “She’s doing really well, Seb. And I knew I’d be hurting you, keeping this secret from you, but I couldn’t let her waste away. She’s half of you–you’re half of her. You wouldn’t be the same if she died.”

“Oh Theo,” Sebastian groaned, pulling her down from the chair to hug her. “I don’t know how you’d ever thought I’d be angry at you.”

“You’re not mad?” her voice was muffled against his cloak. “That I’ve been lying to you?”

“Mad?” Sebastian pulled away, his hands flying to her cheeks. “How could I ever be mad at you? You’re…you’ve kept Anne alive .” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her lips. “How does it work? Are you absorbing her pain, like Isidora? Is it affecting her soul, the way Isidora’s magic did?” he asked eagerly, wanting nothing more than to understand.

Theo shook her head. “Professor Fig and I did quite a lot of research into it, actually. There’s so much we know about magic now, more than Isidora ever would’ve known. You really do have to be so specific with your intention, so you don’t take what you’re not meant to.” Theo explained.

“Are you in pain?” Sebastian asked, pressing his forehead to hers.

“No, I’m not.” Theo promised. “There’s a more potent magic that protects me…at least, I think it does.”

“What is it?” Sebastian asked eagerly.

She bit down on her lip. “It sounds ridiculous, but it’s love.” she cooed. “Professor Fig gave me the idea a long time ago. He said love was the most powerful magic, and with the right intent, could protect, cure, even possibly revive. To love deeply, unselfishly, without fear…it can do the most amazing things.” she admitted. “There’s a book, you should read it–”

Sebastian didn’t want to hear more. Instead, he pressed her to the ground, his lips locking against hers. “I love you so much.” Sebastian groaned into her mouth. “You’re the most amazing woman. Merlin, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

She laughed, tears still streaming down her face as she kissed him back. “I love you too, an awful lot.” she sniffed as Sebastian placed kisses on her salty cheeks. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I could never,” Sebastian said fiercely. “I swear it now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life worshiping you.” he declared, peppering kisses against her jaw.

“Don’t get carried away, we still have to go down for dinner.” Theo chuckled and sniffed at the same time.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love you more,” Sebastian nuzzled her neck. “But somehow, I do.”

The couple stayed on the floor for a little while longer, listening to the song play on repeat. Sebastian had questions, of course, but he figured he now had the rest of his life to ask them. And Anne–Anne, of all people–was alive and thriving. The worry he had over his sister was always bubbling within him, pushed to the bottom as he tried to improve himself, but now he could relax.

Theo had been keeping her healthy. His heart felt like it was doing flips as he digested what she’d said–she’d absorbed the power long before they’d started dating, before they’d even kissed. Way before Sebastian had felt the burning jealousy he had whenever another boy spoke to her. They’d only been friends then, and yet she’d loved him.

Mine , he thought. And he was hers. Before they'd even known that they'd wanted each other, they'd belonged to one another.

It was only when Theo’s stomach growled that they got to their feet; dinner would start in five minutes, and if they hurried, they could get to the Great Hall in time. Hopefully Ominis would have saved them seats–if not, Sebastian would be more than happy to run to the kitchens to fetch her food. He’d never complain about carrying her or running through the castle for her ever again.

“Do you think Anne would be open to seeing me?” Sebastian asked eagerly, swinging Theo’s arm back and forth as they walked through Central Hall.

“I’ll ask her the next time I see her.” Theo promised. “She and I…well, it’s an interesting relationship. I can never tell if she hates me, or thinks we’re friends.”

Sebastian snorted. “She’s like that with girls she doesn’t know well. I’m sure with time she’ll love you just as much as I do.” he assured her.

They passed the Ancient Runes classroom; Professor Twiney gave them a curious look as they walked by. Once they were past earshot, Theo cleared her throat.

“I meant to ask,” Theo interjected, “how your Runes exam went.”

Sebastian held back the wince on his face. “It was fine,” he lied.

“Really?” Theo asked, eyebrows raised. “Amit said he had to switch desks, you were asking for too many answers.”

Sebastian cursed the Ravenclaw under his breath. “It wasn’t my best work, but you don’t have to worry.” It felt wrong to lie, but he knew he couldn’t let Theo down, not after everything she’d done for him.

“That’s fine,” Theo shrugged. “I’ll help you study over the weekend. Perhaps we can work on your translations over our dinner.” she suggested.

“I was thinking about that,” Sebastian mused, tightening his grip on her hand. “And as much as I’d love to have you out in public...perhaps we should do something just the two of us. Alone .”

“Bet Deek’s pocketing half your salary these days,” Theo snorted. “Room of Requirement, then?”

Sebastian gave her a devilish grin. “Room of Requirement. It’s about time we put that bed to good use,” he winked.

Theo chuckled, letting out a big sigh as she slumped against him. “It’s good to not have secrets anymore.” she admitted.

Sebastian pushed open the door to the Great Hall; the food had just been summoned, and he could see Ominis at the Slytherin table, two empty seats by his side. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his teetering grades from Theo for much longer, but for now, Sebastian wanted to enjoy the relative peace that had been granted to them.

Theo let go of his hand, jogging over to the table. Sebastian’s steps faltered, a thought stopping him in his tracks as he watched Theo slide into the bench next to Ominis, chattering animatedly. The power of the repository was somehow living inside of her–consequence unknown. While she’d assured him that her love was keeping the power at bay, Sebastian only became further dedicated to understanding and researching a solution for her.

The tricky part now, he thought, was how to preserve the power–preserve it, so that Anne might live.

“Seb,” Theo called out. It broke him out of his thoughts, shaking his head as he looked over at his two best friends. “Are you coming?”

“Coming,” Sebastian echoed, walking towards them.

Anne was healthy, and Theo loved him. Those two facts alone could give Sebastian the power to push through.

September 1898

“Everyone is staring at us,” Sebastian muttered.

“Don’t mind them,” Ominis huffed.

Sebastian grumbled to himself, walking a few paces behind Ominis and Theo. Garreth Weasley’s supper club had been a humble watering hole when he left London three years prior, but it had somehow become the most popular dining establishment in Diagon Alley in his absence. Everyone watched as the trio entered, whispering to one another as they climbed the stairs. Sebastian nodded curtly at Cyrus Lestrange, his former dormmate, who was standing amongst the patrons. Once they were out of sight, Sebastian could hear the music and chattering pick up again.

Theo guided the boys to one of the private dining rooms; Sebastian’s face flushed as she pulled back the curtain, revealing Natty, Poppy, and Imelda.

“Welcome home, Sebastian!” Poppy exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. The petite brunette hadn’t changed much at all; if anything, she looked a little more grizzled after her time away as a magizoologist. Her bob was bluntly cut at her chin, but her cherub-like cheeks betrayed her age.

“Sallow,” Imelda gave him a heavy slap on the back. Now one of the world’s most distinguished chasers, Imelda’s embrace felt more like a beater’s club against his spine. Sebastian had often seen her picture in the paper, wearing her Holyhead Harpies kit. It almost seemed strange to see her wearing a formal dress, bright gold and green to match her team’s colors.

Sebastian approached Natty next; he’d already seen her before at the Ministry of Magic, but it was still a treat to have her around. “I was not surprised when Ominis sent an owl canceling dinner,” she winked, giving him and Theo a haughty grin.

“Sit, sit,” Ominis commanded, letting everyone take their place around the table. “Figured we’d have a quick dinner with the six of us, and then join the rest of the club for the festivities,” he announced. Despite hating society events, Ominis was the most picturesque host. He was seated at the head of the table, smiling broadly at the group assembled.

“Garreth has a string quartet playing most nights,” Theo leaned over to whisper in his ear, her breath tickling his skin. “After the boys smoke their cigars.”

Sebastian bit his lower lip. “I’d much rather spend the night with you,” he murmured.

“Enough of your whispers,” Imelda complained. “Haven’t you two had enough time together?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, chuckling as he looked back at the group. “Never enough time with her, I’m afraid.” He slipped his hand under the table, resting it on Theo’s thigh.

Poppy gave them a beaming smile, leaning her chin into the palm of her hand. “Oh, I’m just so happy to see the two of you next to each other again. And with Ominis too–the trio, back in action.”

“No action from me,” Ominis waved his arms. “I’ve had a lifetime of trouble already with those two, I’d very much like to enjoy my peace and quiet.”

Natty poured more wine into her glass. “I doubt you’ll have a moment of peace with Sebastian home.”

“Quite right, Natty.” Ominis chuckled. “You know, Sebastian did tackle me in front of Prewett and Hobhouse…it was quite a sight.”

The velvet curtain was pushed open; Sebastian frowned as Theo brushed his hand off of her leg. His eyes went to the doorway, seeing a cheerful Garreth Weasley step into the room. His red hair was slicked back, wearing a fine burgundy velvet suit.

“Sebastian Sallow, my good man,” Garreth announced, making a quick stride over to the table to shake his hand. “Welcome home.”

Sebastian stood, shaking the redhead’s hand eagerly. “Weasley, good to see you. You’ve done well, I see.”

Garreth grinned broadly, his hands on his hips. “Hottest spot in town; Aunt Matilda was quite shocked at how badly the wizarding community needed a dinner club.” He turned his head as a parade of little house elves puttered into the room, conjuring their meal. “Took in some retired house elves,” he murmured. “They drive a hard bargain, but nothing beats their cooking skills.”

Sebastian snorted. “Well, glad to see the place is still standing.”

“You’ll be at Prewett’s wedding, won’t you?” Garreth asked. “With Sebastian Sallow back on the market, I’m sure it’ll be a splash.” he winked.

“Gar,” Natty chided. “Theo’s right here.”

Garreth blushed. “Sorry, Theo.”

Theo merely rolled her eyes, waving him off as she grabbed Ominis’s hand. Sebastian knew she was only playing the part, but something in his chest burned at the idea of her dismissing Garreth’s quip about Sebastian’s status. He never wanted to picture a reality where they weren’t together, but he would’ve hoped she would pine after him a little harder.

This is ridiculous, Sebastian reminded himself. He’d only spent the last twenty four hours wrapped up in her bed, yet he was jealous of a fake relationship.

“Well, it’s good to see you regardless–we’ll catch up in the cigar lounge.” Garreth promised, disappearing behind the curtain once the food had been settled.

Sebastian took his seat again, placing his hand back on Theo’s leg, its rightful place.

“Well, with that out of the way, shall we enjoy our meal?” Imelda cut the silence. “I’ve heard the lamb is quite spectacular–stole the recipe right from the Hogwarts kitchens.”

The dinner went on, but everyone felt the slight tension in the room. Sebastian poked at his dinner plate glumly. Even Theo’s hand over his didn’t ease his discomfort, and the rest of the guests knew it. It wasn’t long before Imelda, Natty, and Poppy were excusing themselves to join the other ladies in the parlor.

“Are you two alright?” Ominis asked hesitantly, holding his wand out. “Shall we head to the lounge, Sebastian?”

“Just a moment, Om.” Theo said gently. “Sebastian will find you.”

Ominis disappeared behind the curtain, and Theo backed Sebastian against the table. She held him by the lapels of his dinner jacket, pouting up at him.

“Are you cross with me?” she asked quietly.

Sebastian groaned. “Never, I could never be cross with you.” he muttered. “It’s just Weasley–reminding me how we have to pretend .” Sebastian’s voice was strained.

“Seb, it’s only a little while longer.” Theo reminded him. “Ominis and I are trying to come up with a plan, it’s only been a few days.”

He rolled his eyes, slumping against her. “I know, I know. My fault for not telling you I was coming home, anyways.” he grumbled. “Promise me a dance tonight, will you?”

“I’ll give you as many dances as possible,” Theo promised, pressing her lips to his jaw. “And quite a few more when we’re home, I might add.”

Sebastian felt his face heat up as she backed away, smiling proudly at him. “You enjoy cigars with Ominis, and I’ll find you in the ballroom.” she promised. Sebastian’s eyes lingered on her form as she sashayed away; the dark green taffeta gown she’d chosen for the night reminded him of the inky waters of the Black Lake.

Garreth’s club had been retrofitted into an old townhouse in Diagon Alley, the rooms magically charmed to expand, adding nooks and crannies in the house for private parties. Sebastian found himself wandering through the hallways, nodding at familiar faces as he passed. Arthur Plummly and Leonora Everleigh gave him polite smiles; Lucan Brattleby stopped him for nearly five minutes, the young auror wanting all the details of Sebastian’s adventures abroad. He could’ve sworn he saw Andrew Larson on the next floor up, ducking out from behind a curtain with a very paranoid looking Philippa Bulstrode.

Sebastian passed another room, pausing as he heard a familiar voice.

“Did you hear Sallow is back in town?”

Sebastian pressed himself against the wall, listening from the doorway. Clearly whoever was in the room had decided to forego silencing charms.

“I did–saw him come into the club with Ominis Gaunt and Theodora Caulfield.” Sebastian recognized the voice-it was Cyrus Lestrange, who'd seen them earlier than evening.

“How strange,” the man tutted. The other voice was Peter Parkinson, his former roommate from Hogwarts. “Can you imagine how awkward that must be?”

“I feel for him–left for his job, only to come home and find out his best mate stole his woman.” Lestrange let out a low whistle. “Honestly, I’m shocked the Gaunts are letting him keep up with Theo. She’s a half-blood, after all.”

“Yes, but she has that peculiar magic,” Parkinson pointed out.

“You know the Gaunts,” Lestrange reminded him. “Blood purists, complete fanatics. No matter how powerful Theo is, they’ll kill Ominis if he marries her. Merlin forbid he get her pregnant.”

Parkinson laughed. “That reminds me, Violet wrote this morning–she ran into the two of them buying contraceptive potions at the apothecary.”

Sebastian swore under his breath; damn Violet McDowell and her incessant need to gossip.

“Ominis and Theo?”

“No, Theo with Sallow,” Parkinson took a second to puff on his cigar. “Just like old times, eh?”

“I’m not surprised,” Lestrange chuckled darkly. “Imagine the next slew of Gaunts come out freckled and brunette…not like Ominis will be able to tell the difference anyways. It’ll be like Larson and Philippa all over again.”

Sebastian backed away from the door as they laughed, red in the face with anger. His hands balled up into fists as he stalked down the hallway, back to the staircase. He couldn’t care less what people said about him, but he’d be damned if he let rumors spread about Theo. It felt like their school years all over again; while she seemed immune to any rumors spread about her, Sebastian couldn’t stand hearing her name come from other’s mouths.

“Sebastian!” Garreth roared, waving his hands at him. “You’ve completely missed the lounge.”

Sebastian shook out of his anger, turning to the redhead. “It’s been a while.” he lied. “Forgot where it was.”

“Well, you’re just in time–music just started up, the ballroom is buzzing.” Garreth grinned. “Come on, get your wits about you; there are plenty of single women in there to dance with.” As Garreth pushed him into the large ballroom, Sebastian had to remind himself that he did in fact quite like him, and that punching him without reason would be a bad look indeed.

Garreth directed him to a group of their classmates; he quite eagerly took a glass of champagne from the table, downing it in three large gulps.

“Sebastian!” Amit greeted him. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

“Amit,” Sebastian acknowledged him, craning his head over the crowd to see who was on the dance floor.

“You’ve just missed everyone, taking off for the first dance.” Everett said, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Prewett and his bride, Northcott and Poppy.”

Andrew Larson appeared out of seemingly nowhere, also sipping on his champagne. “Jenkins has asked Natty to dance, poor man has two left feet. Hope she comes out unscathed.” He gave Sebastian a rather pointed look before gazing back out at the dance floor.

“Oh, Ominis and Theo are dancing.” Amit pointed out. “They are rather graceful together, aren’t they–oof!”

Sebastian pretended he didn’t see Everett elbow Amit in the side, and Amit’s apologetic look that followed. He stared out at the dance floor, where Theo was twirling around with Ominis. The two were laughing together as Theo danced with Ominis, the pair swaying elegantly. Again, her taffeta gown shimmered under the candle light, the beading on her scandalously low neckline sparkling from across the room.

“Excuse us,” Everett said, tugging Amit away. Sebastian could hear him scolding the poor man–it seemed like everyone was walking on eggshells around him, expecting him to lash out in anger at any moment.

“They make a handsome couple,” Larson observed, lifting his glass to his lips again.

“They do,” Sebastian echoed through gritted teeth.

Larson sighed loudly. “I guess that’s our lot in life, isn’t it? Watching the girl who got away.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows at him.

Larson looked back out at the dance floor. Not far from Ominis and Theo, Philippa Greengrass, now Bulstrode, was dancing with her husband. The couple looked mismatched; Philippa was tall and willowy, her brutish husband quite stout besides to her. Nonetheless, she danced on his arm with a placid smile, eyes flitting back to Larson every now and then.

“That’s not what it’s like.” Sebastian insisted. While he knew the truth, he couldn’t suppress the bubbling resentment that was rising in his throat.

“That’s what I told myself six years ago,” Larson muttered, gulping down the rest of his champagne and setting the coupe on a table behind them. “Take my advice, Sallow–move on, before it’s too late.”

The song ended as Larson walked away, and Sebastian felt like there was a cinder block pinned to his chest. His heart pattered as Theo walked towards him, clapping for the musicians with Ominis’s hand on the small of her back. Ominis had never been touchy in their youth, complaining about hugs and nudges during their school years. Sebastian had taken note of how comfortable he’d become around Theo in his absence; it had started with Ominis hanging her blouses, and now it was glaringly obvious as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

Mine, Sebastian’s heart roared. Not his.

“I’ve had my fill of dancing,” Ominis announced loudly. “I think I’ll retire for the night–Sebastian, would you mind terribly accompanying Theo?”

Inquiring minds were staring at them, so Sebastian swallowed his pride and smiled politely. “Of course,” he nodded his head, quickly shaking Ominis’s hand.

“Behave, you two.” Ominis snickered.

“Can’t make any promises,” Theo patted his cheek, pressing a quick kiss to the opposite one.

Ominis made a show of his exit, which left Theo and Sebastian standing next to each other. The musicians picked back up on their instruments, starting the next song.

“I believe I promised you a dance, Mr. Sallow.” Theo said sweetly. “Do me the honor?”

“It would be mine, entirely.” Sebastian murmured, taking her hand. He led her out onto the dance floor, knowing the entire room’s eyes were on them. With that in mind, he placed his hand quite low on her waist, gripping her through the fabric of her gown. It had been too long since he’d done a proper dance, so he glanced down at Theo quite shyly.

“I fear I’ve forgotten the steps,” he admitted sheepishly.

Theo gave him a sparkling smile. “I’ll guide you, don’t worry.” she reassured him.

The music picked up speed and Sebastian locked his eyes on Theo’s. She had always been beautiful, with shiny hair and a pretty complexion. Despite all the time they’d spent together since his return, Sebastian wasn’t sure they’d ever have enough time for him to properly digest how she’d changed in his absence. Her posture was different, even cockier than she’d been when they were teenagers. Cheekbones slightly sharper, lips a bit poutier (perhaps still swollen from the kisses he’d lavished her with that afternoon).

“What are you staring at?” Theo asked teasingly.

“Just how ravishing you look,” Sebastian hummed, pulling her tighter.

Theo rolled her eyes. “There are people watching, Seb.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian declared. “We’re the talk of the town, if you haven’t heard.”

More people joined the dance floor, crowding around the pair. Sebastian spun Theo around, grabbing her by the waist again to lift her in the air. The dance steps came back to him quite easily, reminding him of their youth. Back then, before the Crimson Lion was an elegant establishment, Sebastian and Theo had spent many evenings dining and dancing with their friends, up until the wee hours of the morning.

“What have you overheard?” Theo asked, clasping her hand on his shoulder as he lifted her.

“Well, for starters, everyone thinks I’m about to combust.” Sebastian chuffed. “They all think I’m about to murder Ominis for stealing you away.”

Theo grinned at him. “Is that not every girl’s dream, to have the two most eligible bachelors chasing her?”

“My nightmare,” Sebastian growled, tugging her body flush against his. “I can’t wait to prove you’re mine, only mine.” He rather scandalously tipped her chin up towards him, his fingers trailing down her neck. “Where’s your necklace?” he observed, noticing the silver chain was gone.

“Left it at home,” Theo licked her berry stained lips. “I took it off while you were in the bath. Left it somewhere for you to find.”

Sebastian blinked at her, picturing Theo slipping the engagement ring off her neck, hiding it in the house. He knew Theo wasn’t a legilimens, but somehow she’d read his mind that morning, knowing he was brainstorming the perfect way to steal the bauble back from her. They’d torn her dressing room apart already the night before–Sebastian was ready to do it again, eager to find the ring and fall to his knees in front of her.

The song ended, and Theo stepped away from him. He fussed at the loss of her as the music stopped and she stepped away, clapping for the musicians.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Theo asked, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Come with me,” Sebastian growled, tugging her hand away from the ballroom. He could feel everyone’s eyes raking over them, watching as he stalked out of the ballroom dragging Theo behind him.

“Sebastian!” Theo chided him. “Everyone’s watching.”

“I don’t care,” He strained. “I want to be alone with you.”

Theo pretended to protest, but her feet willingly followed him out of the room. Her little heeled slippers clacked on the stairs as he tugged her up to one of the private floors.

“Quick, in here.” Theo insisted, pushing him into one of the powder rooms. She pulled her wand from the folds of her skirt, wordlessly locking the door behind them.

“Non-verbal, nice work,” Sebastian started to say, soon cut off by the feeling of her lips on his.

“You’re maddening,” Theo snapped between kisses. “You knew everyone was watching—”

“And I had to prove yet again that you are mine.” Sebastian slid his tongue easily into her mouth, his hands roving up her waist and to the bodice of her dress. “Tell me, do you always wear pretty dresses with this low of a neckline?” he whispered, pressing her back against the sink.

“I was saving this one for an occasion where you wouldn’t rip it,” Theo laughed against his lips. “You’ve destroyed two of my dresses already.”

“Well, I shall endeavor to take good care of this one,” Sebastian said, his fingertips ghosting the top of her breasts. “We’ll keep it on, then.” He rucked off his dinner jacket, letting it fall to the floor. His vest quickly followed.

“Keep it on?” Theo asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Keep. It. On.” Sebastian murmured, his hands trailing underneath her skirt. He smiled as she gasped, his fingers pushing her undergarments aside to slide against her core.

“Sebastian!” Theo smacked his shoulder.

“You’re the one who cast a silencing charm on the door.” Sebastian waggled his eyebrows. “Besides, I can’t exactly remember, but we have shagged in this club quite a few times…” he reminded her.

Theo’s head fell back, pretty little gasps spilling from her lips as she tried to talk sense into him. “We…were…we were younger then.”

“Oh my darling, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep having fun.” Sebastian plunged two fingers into her easily, pumping them in and out of her as he steadied her against the sink.

“You’re infuriating,” Theo muttered, fumbling with the clasp on his trousers. “Don’t mess up my hair,” she warned, her hand sliding in against his arousal.

Sebastian choked back a groan as she gripped his cock, her thumb running over the slit. “We’re quite good at this, for not having done it in so long.” His forehead fell against her shoulder, savoring every second of her hands on him.

“Hmm. Like riding a bike–or perhaps in this case, a broom.” Theo laughed breathily, turning to a gasp as he curled his fingers inside of her.

“Turn around,” Sebastian bit down on his lower lip. “Lean over the sink.”

“I want to look at you,” Theo whined.

“You will,” Sebastian grunted, pulling his hand out from beneath her skirts to turn her around. Theo’s hands planted on the porcelain top, looking back at Sebastian in the mirror.�� She blushed as he pulled her skirts up with one hand, the other pressing her back to arch perfectly for him.

“I want you to watch,” Sebastian growled, unclasping his suspenders. Once freed from their constraint, he shoved his trousers down to his knees, gripping his length as he stared at Theo in the mirror. Her face was a mixture of interest and amusement, her eyes burning into him. Sebastian stroked himself, pressing his tip against her warm center. He cherished the stuttered moan that came out of her mouth as he prodded her. His own breath faltered as he sunk his length fully into her, watching her curiosity fade into pleasure as he grinded his hips against her body.

“Seems Violet McLaggen has spread the word we’re being intimate again,” Sebastian whispered against her ear, gritting his teeth as she pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts. “So, soon everyone will know.”

“Don’t lie,” Theo moaned, her head tilting back to hit his shoulder. “That gave you some pleasure, didn’t it?” Her mouth dropped open, eyes shutting as she reached his arm around, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Eyes open,” Sebastian instructed, withdrawing his length from her. When she whined at the loss of him, eyes opening, he speared himself into her once more. Sebastian’s arm trailed down to her waist, tugging her even closer to his body. He did always prefer to have her bare beneath him, but something about taking her in the bathroom, her pretty dress rucked over her waist, made him feral. He rocked his hips into her over and over again, rutting his cock in just the right angle. The sound of skin slapping, their shared moans, and the crinkling of taffeta filled the room.

Thank Merlin for silencing charms, he thought.

“Sebastian,” Theo let out a staggered moan. “Sebastian, you’re going to make me–”

“I said, eyes open.” Sebastian grunted, quickening his pace. He relished the way Theo’s eyes looked glazed over; for three years, he’d spent night over night, dreaming of fucking her into a hazy state. Every morning he woke up stiff and unsatisfied, desperately fucking his fist while wishing it was her. Now, having felt her flutter around him for just the last 24 hours, Sebastian wasn’t sure he could ever be convinced to leave rainy old London ever again.

With one arm wrapped around her waist, the other against the sink edge to steady himself, Sebastian knew his orgasm wasn’t far away. Theo opened her mouth, a soft whine spilling from her lips as she found her climax. She cried out his name as her hands flew against the mirror, palms pressed flat against the foggy surface. Sebastian imagined her walking out of the powder room, pretending nothing untoward had happened, with his seed secretly dripping down her thighs the rest of the night. While he hated keeping up their ruse, the idea of her dancing prettily in the ballroom again after screaming his name was enough to make him snap.

“You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine,” Sebastian groaned, choking out curses against the crook of her neck as he buried his cock into her. He pumped his seed into her quivering cunt, grateful that she’d remembered to take one of the contraceptive potions after that morning’s activities.

Fully satiated, Sebastian gingerly pulled out of her, tugging her skirts down as he tucked himself back into his trousers.

“Are you finished now?” Theo panted, holding onto the sink with trembling hands to steady herself.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You’d like to go again? I’ll have you wherever you want me, but perhaps you’d feel more comfortable if we found a bed.”

Theo whirled around, laughing breathily as she placed a hand on his chest. “Being jealous, I meant.”

Sebastian reddened, choking back his own laugh. “Er, maybe.”

“Let me guess,” Theo fastened the buttons at the front of his trousers. “You got all riled up hearing the rumors about us.” She clipped one of his suspenders on while he worked on the other, sliding the straps over his now sweaty shirt.

Sebastian gave her a guilty shrug, dipping down to the floor to pick up his discarded vest and jacket. “Perhaps I did. Could you blame me? I had to walk into the ballroom and see the most beautiful woman in the world, dancing on my best friend’s arm.” he demurred, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He slid on the vest, shaking out any wrinkles from his jacket.

“Seb,” Theo sighed, lurching forward to button his vest. “You know I’m yours. I’ve been yours since we were sixteen. I don’t know why you’d be jealous of Ominis, of all people.” Once she’d finished with him, she turned back around to the mirror to appraise her appearance. “You’ve mucked up my hair. Everyone will have known we were shagging.”

Sebastian chewed on his lower lip, leaning against the door. “I overheard Lestrange, comparing us to the Bulstrodes.” he admitted, fingers curling into his dinner jacket. “That might have done me in.”

“Compare how?” Theo asked, patting down a curl.

Sebastian lolled his head to the side. “Said he wouldn’t be surprised if the next era of Gaunts had freckles and brown hair.” he muttered.

Theo turned around, placing a hand on his cheek. “Rest assured, I only ever plan on having your babies. They may have rather large heads and be quite stubborn like their father, but nonetheless, my children will all be Sallows.” she assured him, pinching his cheek.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a big head.” he mumbled.

Theo snorted, turning back to the mirror. She dabbed a piece of tissue against her forehead. “You had one as a child, Anne told me. Said your mum was quite worried about it.”

Sebastian flushed, realizing that not only had Theo been talking about his parents with his sister, but had also likely brought up the topic of having his children with her. His heart ached–he missed Anne, but had not forgotten the cruel words she’d imparted on him during their last conversation. That had been five long years ago, but her words were burned onto his soul.

“Shall we retire for the night?” Sebastian asked. “We’ll have to make a quick getaway.”

Theo turned to him, smiling earnestly. “Let’s go home. Perhaps you can start looking for your bounty.” she winked. “Let me leave first, and you wait a few moments after. I’ll pretend we had a row, and you can meet me back at home.”

Home, Sebastian thought. Home, where they could share a bed, and not hide their relationship. Home, where his mother’s engagement ring was hidden, waiting for him to find it.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at home.” Sebastian repeated, a goofy smile on his lips.

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