#but i will forever look back on it with sheer fondness

[obsessedwithceleste]

Mother Brother Knows Best

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽

Summary: In which Theodore is no match for the sheer determination of a twelve year old fueled by sugar, pumpkin juice, and spite.

word count: 4.1k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

“Take a picture mate, it’ll last longer,” Mattheo says, collapsing onto the sofa next to his brooding friend.

Theo looks at the boy next to him in annoyance. Mattheo had been meant to meet him in the library thirty minutes ago, and while he was waiting on his habitually late friend, he’d been forced to watch the love of his life practically sit on bloody Cormac McLaggen’s lap. What you saw in that boy, Theo had no idea.

Theo had fancied you for what felt like forever to him at that point, and it’s not like he was exactly subtle about it. At least he didn’t think he was being subtle, but ask any of his friends and they’d say that holding eye contact from across the room for over 3 seconds did not count as a declaration of love. But what did they know. Not that it mattered anyway because somehow, he’d managed to lose you to the toadstool that the Gryffindor house claimed to be a fully functioning wizard.

“I wasn’t staring,” he mutters defensively, breaking his steady glare away unconvincingly.

“Sure you weren’t. How is little y/n anyway? Haven’t seen much of her since she and ole McLaggen started snogging and such,” Mattheo responds easily, an amused grin spreading across his face as he watched his friend tense.

“Fuck off. Don’t remind me.”

With a silent snicker, Mattheo leaned back in his chair. Ever since you had started going out with Cormac, it had been increasingly easy for Mattheo to ruffle Theo’s feathers. The boy really had been taken with you for months now, and Mattheo simply saw this as payback for all the hours he’d been forced to listen to Theo’s rather pathetic pining. She doesn’t even know I exist this, and we made eye contact for a whole 7 seconds that. You’d managed to bring the ever stoic Theodore Nott to his bloody knees, and you didn’t even know it.

“So, about that charms homework…” Mattheo says eventually, breaking Theo’s blazing gaze away from you and Cormac once more.

“No time. Carter should be here any minute since you, are thirty minutes late.”

Mattheo raises an eyebrow.

“You’re still gonna tutor that little gremlin? Thought you were just trying to get on y/n’s good side. No point now eh?”

For the past few month or so, Theo had been tutoring your younger brother in charms and transfiguration and, while Mattheo was right about his initial intentions, the little bugger had slowly grown on him. Like a fungus.

Theo shrugs noncommittally as he spots the young Slytherin from across the library.

“Not just gonna let Carter fail. He’s a good kid.” He mumbles.

“Aw Teddy, you’ve gone soft,” Mattheo teases as his eyes follow the young boy making his way excitedly towards them.

Making a face at his friend, Theo tosses a scroll of parchment across the table and Mattheo reaches out to snatch it.

“Get outta here ya tosser.”

With one last smirk, Mattheo rises lazily from their place on the sofas, nodding once at Carter who sidles up to him before making his escape, a completed charms essay successfully secured.

“Hi Theodore!” Carter greets, swinging his bag onto the sofa next to Theo before climbing up himself.

“Hey buddy, what’re we working on today?” Theo asks, a fond smile growing on his face as the young boy makes himself comfortable.

Usually Theo wasn’t one for children of any sort. He found them to be, sticky. But Carter almost reminded him of a younger version of himself. Feisty and energetic with a sharp tongue. The pair honestly got on like a house on fire and Theo actually looked forward to their tutoring sessions.

“Levitating charms,” Carter replies with a look of disgust. “Ew. Is that Cormac and y/n?” He asks, spotting his sister across the library.

Matching Carter’s face of disgust, Theo nods his head in confirmation, pulling out his own charms book.

“He’s the bloody worst. I wish y/n would date someone cool for once. She has a talent for always picking the worst ones. I heard Cormac say he wants to see what’s under y/n’s skirt once, so I told him that the only way he was going to get laid was by crawling up a chicken’s arse and waiting. He didn’t like that. But his friends all thought it was funny. But then he locked me in a broom closet. But it was fine cause Enzo found me a few minutes later and beat Cormac’s arse for me,” Carter rambles, flipping through the pages of his textbook.

Salazar, for a second year, this kid was certainly mouthy, Theo thought.

“Think Enzo mentioned that to me actually.” He replies off-handedly.

“Yeah. He’s so cool. I think y/n used to have a crush on him a few years ago. Don’t tell her I said anything though. You’re cool too.” Carter says, looking down at his book. “Hey! Why don’t you date y/n? Then I could see you during holiday! Hopefully Cormac doesn’t stick long enough to make it to Christmas. I don’t want him to stink up the house.”

Theo feels his cheeks begin to redden at the boy’s statement and he begins to stutter. Damn he hoped his filter wasn’t this bad when he was twelve.

“Let’s just get back to the lesson,” he mumbles, hoping to redirect the young boy.

Lucky for him, Carter obliges, allowing the older boy to guide him through the precise wand movements essential to the spell in question.

“Windgardimum leviosum”

“Wingardinum liviosa”

“Windgarnium leviosauarasurausrus.”

“Now you’re just making words up,” Theo laughs as the boy fails to pronounce the spell correctly for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Because I am!” The boy says with frustration.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s fine okay. Ready? Win.”

“Win”

“Gaurd”

“Gaurd.”

“E-um”

“E-um”

“Wingardium”

“Wingardium”

“Nice! Now the second part. Lev.”

“Lev”

“E-o-sa”

“E-o-sa”

“Leviosa”

“Leviosa.”

“Great. Now put it together.”

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Perfect, now add the wand movements,” Theo instructs.

Moments later, Carter has a textbook floating through the air with ease.

“So will you date my sister?” Carter asks as he slides his books back into his bag.

Theo chokes on air. It had been a bit over an hour and the two had perfected the boy’s levitating charms and worked on turning a flower into a teacup, so Theo had assumed that their previous conversation was all but forgotten to the younger boy. Apparently not.

“Sorry?” He splutters, looking over at his companion.

“My sister. Will you date her? I saw you get all red earlier so you must like her, at least a little,” the boy says nonchalantly as if pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

Theo feels the heat rushing to his cheeks once more.

“Look little man, I appreciate the support, but it’s not really entirely up to me to decide. Your sister is taken,” Theo tries to reason.

The boy just shrugs.

“We’ll just have to break em up then. Cormac is dumb as rocks, so it’s not like it’ll be hard,” he replies.

Theo can barely hold in his laughter. Salazar this kid was great.

“You know what Carter, if you can break those two up, yeah, I’ll ask out y/n,” he says, patting the young boy on the back.

“Deal.” Carter says, sticking out his hand. “But don’t think I don’t know that I’m doing you a favor too. I’ve seen you stare at my sister. Oh. And if I need help plotting, you have to help me too.”

Damn this kid was good. A right and proper Slytherin.

“Deal.” Theo replies, shaking the boys hand.

As he’s leaving the library, he hears Carter’s voice ring out.

“Hey Cormac! The village called and said they want their idiot back, so you better get going!”

Salazar he’d really found himself the perfect ally he thought gleefully. With a final snicker, Theo pushed open the library doors and headed back down to the dungeons.

You watch with silent amusement from the entrance of the Great Hall as your younger brother once again made Cormac’s life a living disaster, sending pumpkin juice flying all over the older boy’s robes. For the past week or so, you’d noticed your brother sabotaging your boyfriend’s every move with varying levels of discretion; from tripping him in the halls, causing him to trip into you, to sticking him to his chair in the library during a study date.

At first you’d found it annoying as you’d known your brother didn’t like your boyfriend, but thought he didn’t have to make the boy miserable. But then, as you were passing by what you thought was an empty classroom, you’d heard your brother’s voice whispering to one Theodore Nott.

“Do you think it would be too far to just get him expelled? If I have to see him snog my sister one more time, I’ll release one of Hagrid’s beasts on him myself!” You’d heard Carter exclaim, followed by Theo’s low chuckle.

“Easy there little basilisk. Let’s not get the guy expelled, as aggravating as he might be.”

You’d never really spoken to Theo much in the past, and aside from brief eye contact from across the classroom, you really couldn’t remember interacting with the boy at all. But he’d begun tutoring your brother a few months ago, and Carter would not stop going on about the boy. You knew your brother was quite picky with his friends, and very difficult to impress, so to be so taken with the bloke. You knew Theodore had to be something special. You’d started noticing him more after that, dark and broody, but also sharp witted and fiercely loyal to his group of Slytherins. Not to mention ridiculously handsome.

You subconsciously take a step closer, listening to the two boys.

“I don’t understand why she likes him. He’s so dumb. And mean. He’s always picking on me and my friends when y/n isn’t around. And he thinks he’s so cool because he’s a bloody Gryffindor. I don’t know why she wouldn’t just date you in the first place. You’re the best,” you hear Carter grumble as you feel yourself blush.

You hear Theo laugh again. “Let’s finish this chapter and then you can continue plotting Cormac’s demise okay?” You hear him say.

“Fine. Do you think y/n will break up with him if he smells? I wanna hide a dung beetle in his robes.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea. Now- quill pen into a telescope, let’s go.” Theo says with a snort.

After that, you’d begun to take your brother’s words to heart, noticing Cormac’s rash reactions towards the younger students, and loud outbursts whenever something didn’t go his way. You’d always assumed Carter was just goading at your boyfriend, but maybe he had a point.

Breaking away from your usual group of friends, you divert your attention to your younger brother who was now sitting alone at the long green and silver table on the other side of the hall.

“Morning Carter,” you greet, sitting down next to him at Slytherin table, quiet chatter filling the Great Hall.

“Didn’t want to sit next to your boyfriend covered in pumpkin juice?” Your brother asks innocently, taking a sip from his own pumpkin juice filled glass.

“Mm. I saw.” You respond dryly, side eyeing your brother as you filled your plate.

“It was an accident.”

“I’m sure. So, how are your tutoring sessions going? Mum and dad gonna be on you next holiday?” You ask.

“No way. Theo has me getting top marks on all my assignments. He’s the best,” Carter brags.

“Yeah? You seem to like him. A lot more than Cormac that’s for sure.” You comment.

“Well duh. Theo’s like, one of the coolest blokes in Slytherin, and Cormac is one of the biggest tossers in the whole school. Bit of an insult to even compare Theo to that wank-cloth to be honest.”

You struggle to maintain your composure, holding in your laughter, and before you’re able to probe your brother any further, a plate is plonked down across the table.

“Carter! My favorite little second year!” Enzo says brightly, taking his seat.

“Enzo it’s too early for you to be this cheery. No one is that cheery at 7:30 am let’s reel it in,” Mattheo groans, sitting down on Carter’s other side.

“Theo!” Carter exclaims as the brown haired boy takes his spot across from you.

“What’s up little man, how’d that charms exam go?”

“I got the top score in my class,” your brother responds proudly as you gaze across the table at his tutor.

Theo really was handsome.

Quickly shaking the thoughts from your head, you force yourself to zone back into the conversation.

“I remember being in second year charms,” Mattheo was saying.

“No you don’t, you never showed up,” Enzo snorts.

“Shut up pretty boy.”

“Speaking of second year. Where are your friends in second year?” You interrupt, suddenly realizing that your brother was in fact surrounded by a whole gang of sixth years.

“They’re all scared of them,” Carter shrugs nonchalantly, gesturing towards the boys around you.

Mattheo’s jaw drops open in mock offense.

“I can assure you y/n, we are prime role models for young Slytherins.” He says.

“Didn’t you and Draco just get a detention for sending a hoard of rabid pygmie puffs after a group of firsties?” Carter asks, taking a large bite of his eggs.

“Minor details.”

“Right. Note to self, Theodore is the only one of you to be left alone with Carter. Got it.” You joke, almost missing the tinge of red in Theo’s cheeks as he ducks his head, suddenly very interested in his breakfast.

“That’s fine with me. Theo skips class all the time too, so I won’t be missing much,” Carter says matter of factly as he proceeds to drown his pancakes and eggs in syrup.

Now it’s Theo’s turn to drop his jaw at the young boy.

“Little snitch, you said you wouldn’t bring that up,” he says, throwing a bit of his toast at your younger brother.

Carter just laughs, tossing sticky egg right back.

“That’s on you for trusting a twelve year old, I can’t be held responsible for my actions, I’m just a kid,” he replies, sticking his tongue out at his tutor.

You watch the scene before you play out, a smile growing on your face.

“Oh he’s going to make Slytherin house proud,” Mattheo says with a grin as Theo proceeds to throw a bit of muffin back your brother’s way.

“Woah woah woah there Theodore, leave y/n’s brother alone,” a voice says from behind you.

You turn to see Cormac approaching the table, dried pumpkin juice still staining the front of his shirt.

“Piss off Cormac,” Mattheo tells him, a scowl quickly taking over his face.

“Don’t think I will. Can’t stand by and watch my girlfriend’s brother get bullied,” he says, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. His gesture might’ve been nice a week ago, but at the moment you wanted to hurl.

“Right. Like you weren’t the one who locked Carter in a broom closet the other day you bloody bastard. How’d you like a replay of our little encounter?” Enzo sneers, going to rise from his seat only to be sat back down by Theo.

“I’m sorry, you did what?” You ask, fury rising in you as you whip around to face your boyfriend-for-not-much-longer.

“Relax, it was just some man to man bonding,” Cormac says, giving Carter a pat on the head. Carter smacks his hand away.

“Salazar Cormac, are you always this stupid, or do you just show off when we’re around? Get lost,” Theo says, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“Yeah! If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I’d just fart!” Carter adds, glaring up at the boy with crossed arms.

With a scowl, Cormac sneers at the group of Slytherin boys glaring right back at him before giving your shoulder a tug.

“C’mon then y/n. You shouldn’t be hanging out with this filth anyway,” he practically growls.

You frown at the Gryffindor. What on Earth had made you like this boy? The mix of sheer embarrassment, disgust, and rage sends a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck of Cormac. We are so, so done. And my brother isn’t filth.” You snap, abruptly turning your back on him.

You’re met with a satisfied smirk on Theo’s face as the other boys jeer at Cormac as he stomps away.

“Bloody hell, who let me stay with that tosser for so long?” You mutter, stabbing at one of your sausages.

“Not to say I told you so, but I totally told you so,” Carter says through a mouthful of egg.

“Point very well taken.”

The five of you eat in silence for a moment, but when you look up, you see Carter mouthing something furiously at Theo who looks mortified.

“What’re you two on about?” You ask, breaking the silence as you glance back and forth between the two boys.

“Yeah Theo, what are we on about?” Carter says pointedly at the older boy.

Mattheo and Enzo, now also fully invested, look between Carter and Theodore as well, a sinister grin spreading across Mattheo’s face as realization grows.

“Oh I think I have a good idea of what they’re on about,” he says, taking on a playful tone.

“Don’t you start.” Theo grumbles.

You look blankly between the boys as they seem to be having a silent conversation amongst themselves.

“Well this has been lovely really. So glad you all got a front row seat to the drama that is my life, but I think it’s time I head out,” you say finally when none of the boys speak up.

As if coming to a stalemate, four heads turn to you, and you leave to a chorus of “Bye, y/n’s and see you laters.”

You found yourself once again seated in the library, scribbling away on your DADA assignment. It had been a bit over a week since you’d dropped Cormac and you’d forgotten how bloody nice it was to not be constantly dragged down by him when studying. As you continue to scratch away at your parchment, a loud thud shakes you out of your focus.

“What’s up sissy?” Carter says, his bag joining his large stack of books on the table as he makes himself comfortable in the chair next to you. “Matt over here!” He whisper tells, gesturing frantically to the curly haired boy who was quickly making his way over to you.

“Ah y/n! Perfect timing! Been such a pleasure chatting with you for the last several hours eh?” He says, sliding into the seat across from you.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?”

Just then, a miffed looking Theo bursts through the library door, eyes quickly zoning in on Mattheo and your brother.

“What did you two do?” You hiss as the boy begins stalking over.

“Nothing!” Carter says quickly.

You glare at the two boys.

“We might have allegedly started a small fire in the dorms,” Mattheo grumbles, trying to look invested in one of the random textbooks that had been strewn across the table.

“You did what?” You whisper yell across the table.

“Allegedly!” He emphasizes, still not looking up.

“I know it was you two. And also probably Enzo.” Theo states unamusedly, walking up to the table, arms crossed.

“Us? We would never! We’ve been here studying with y/n this whole time!” Mattheo says, looking very offended for someone who was in fact guilty of what Theo was accusing.

“Yeah?” Theo asks. “You’ve been here reading Advanced Love Spells in the third edition?” Theo says, raising an eyebrow as he gestures to the book Mattheo was holding.

“Uh, yeah,” Mattheo responds.

“Really? Because it’s upside down,” Theo replies, snatching the book and turning it right side up before giving it back to Mattheo.

“I enjoy a challenge.” Mattheo retorts, doubling down as he snaps the volume shut.

Theo just dead stares his friend for a moment before sighing and slumping into the last remaining seat.

“I’m not covering for you if Snape asks me who did it.” He says eventually.

“But you won’t snitch?”

Theo glares at his friend.

“Don’t insult me.” He grumbles. Then turning towards Carter. “I’m advising to Snape that I begin tutoring you in potions too before you burn the entire castle down,” he tells him.

Carter just grins bashfully.

“Great! Now that that’s all settled, I’ll be off. Y/n, pleasure as always. Boys.” And with one last nod, and a sarcastic salute, Mattheo is off.

“One day, I’m going to murder him, and drop his body in the Black Lake,” Theo says under his breath.

“Alright. Which one of you is going to explain?” You ask, looking sternly between the two boys you were left with.

Before Theo has the chance to get a word in, Carter shoots up.

“I just remembered that I need to get a book for our tutoring session tonight! Be right back!” He exclaims, running off.

“Well I suppose that answers that,” Theo mutters.

“Are my parents going to get an owl? And if so, how bad will the howler be on a scale of 1-10?”

“I don’t think they’ll be owled. If anything, Matt will take the fall for the three of them,” Theo assures you.

“So what exactly happened?”

“Not entirely sure, but from what I gathered, Matt and Enzo decided that they would be able to help your brother with his potions homework, proceeded to forget about the cauldron sitting on an open flame, and then had the audacity to be surprised when a stack of parchment caught fire because Matt’s side of the dorm is a mess.”

You purse your lips.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m so sorry. You share a room with them don’t you?”

Theo nods his head.

“How’d you know that?”

“Carter hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him.” You reply with an awkward laugh. “Thanks for doing it by the way. And for letting him hang around you lot. He seems so much happier lately.”

A small smile appears on Theo’s face.

“We like having him around. Kid’s a spitfire. And an excellent alibi. Not that we’d ever get him into trouble,” he says quickly.

You let out a light laugh.

“I’m very sure that Carter would find trouble with or without you lot. He tends to go looking for it.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for Carter to return, and you try to turn your focus back to your assignment. It’s significantly harder to concentrate you find however, with the handsome Slytherin sitting across from you fingering idly through one of the textbooks he’d picked up.

“Someone’s deep in thought.”

Theo’s voice jolts you into the present, and you blush knowing he’d definitely caught you staring.

“Just annoyed with this bloody DADA assignment,” you mumble, hoping he hadn’t realized just how long you’d been staring.

“Did it earlier. It’s a bit of a snooze.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“Would you want to work on it together sometime?” He asks suddenly, words practically tumbling from his mouth.

You look up at the boy in surprise.

“Um, I’m not sure a really need a tutor…” you say trailing off.

Theo gives you a lopsided grin, shaking his head a bit.

“I meant as a study date.”

You feel yourself blush for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Oh. Then yes. I’d like that.” You say, holding back the huge grin that was threatening to take over your face.

“I’m back!” Carter sings, skipping his way back to the table and effectively ending the moment. “Was that enough time for you to ask her out? I can only stare at those dusty shelves for so long before I start going crazy.”

Your jaw drops as you turn to your brother.

“Did you really just set me up?”

“Duh. Christmas is only a few weeks away, and you clearly don’t have good judgment. I can’t risk having to see some stinky loser over break! And Mattheo said Theo’s had a crush on you since forever, so it was really a win for everybody.”

Now it was Theo’s turn to look embarrassed and offended.

“You didn’t need to tell her the last bit,” he hissed at your brother.

Carter just shrugs in response.

“This is what you two get for putting a twelve year old in charge of your love lives.”

“Carter, I don’t think either of us put you in charge of our love life,” you tell your all too satisfied younger brother.

“Well you should’ve. I got better results in a couple weeks than you two did in sixteen years.”

And that’s a wrap! I know I strayed from the rec a tad bit, but hopefully I did your request justice🫶🏽 Anyway, live laugh love Carter🙌🏽

#slytherin boys #harry potter universe #slytherin #theodore nott #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #theo nott #mattheo riddle #Enzo Berkshire #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #request

[confused-wanderer]

I know we all talk about Jason finding out Dick killed the Joker from Tim or one of the other batfam members, but what if:

One day he’s searching for blackmail material on a member just for fun and knows Damian keeps a list of all of them so he backs into the files and realised the folder with the heaviest inscription to unlock is one labelled “Contingencies”.

He opens it to find every single person in their family is on there and starts surfing through them. When he sees Tim’s he freezes, mentally filing away some horrific details for checking up on him later, Jason’s list is impressive but not much he didn’t expect…still concerned how he got the evidence though.

His fingers hesitate over Batman’s, and after thinking screw it what the hell clicks on it just to realise most of them are psychological, and had to do with Jason. One video showed Bruce as Jason remembered him from his robin days. He was pacing furiously in the Manor, tugging on his pocket square which for him was a high level of distress, before he went upstairs - to Jason’s room when he stayed there - and looked in. The change was sudden, Bruce’s shoulders sagged and his face grew into one of fondness, one he’d rarely seen before.

“I cant help it Alfred.. Scarecrow’s toxin.. I KNOW it isn’t real but.. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if -“ and Jason can’t really believe his ears, that was a fucking quiver in his voice- “What if one day it comes true?” “What was your worst fear Master Bruce?”.

“Jason..” and Jason flinches. “I.. I saw him die, and I was powerless. I cant lose him Alfred. I just cant.”

The recording ends, and it takes a while for Jason to realise he can’t breathe. He sends the file to himself and laughs bitterly, remembering what the fear toxin had shown him. Lucifer. It had shown him falling from Bruce’s grace, being his greatest disappointment. “Guess we both failed each other didnt we old man?”

After what feels like forever, when he can feel his fingers stop shaking his eyes drift over to Dicks.

Damian sure does adore him, wonder what the brats got in store for him.

Most of them were things he was sure Dick could handle, until a glitched file appeared which read “for EXTREME situations only.”

When he heard Joker laugh, Jason could’ve sworn he was in the cave. “Hello there old friend! Aww why the long face?”

Dick wasn’t facing the camera, but the sheer aura of destruction radiating off of him was enough for Jason to know Joker was in danger. Judging by his outfit and well- hair- this must’ve been years ago.

“Didn’t you like my..ah.. gift? It was quite the blast I hear!”

Dicks fists clenched. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a hatred so vile it could’ve rivalled batman’s glare. It was so odd.. seeing him so pissed.

“Well that’s what happens.. when birds get hit. They never see what’s right in front of them and then BAM!”

As his laughter rang out Jason heard Dick whisper something. It was so soft, quieter than he’d ever heard him and he found himself leaning forward.

“What’s that? How long he lasted? Well I counted everytime he screamed when I broke his bones so-“

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Jason stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor himself. Dicks voice was thundering, echoing across the cave.

What the hell had happened? Why was Dick so mad? Why wasn’t he smiling?

“You..killed him.”

And that’s when it hit Jason. Oh. This was after he’d died.

The joker was trying to say something, but Jason couldn’t hear him. All he could focus on was how Dick was behaving, how he was walking upto Joker. Jason had seen that before.

The intent to kill.

SLAM

The fight was brutal, and blood flew everywhere, mixed with the laughter and cries of the Joker while Dick yelled, YELLED so loudly he could’ve sworn the cave was shaking before the sound of a wet snap ricocheted and Dick went limp.

No.. no no no no.

He watched in horror as Dick stood up, drenched in blood and heaving. Dick had gone- no BEATEN- the joker for Jason.

But the longer he looked, the more he felt the Lazarus pit burning inside him.

The joker wasn’t moving.

Dick walked away, and in the shadows, with bloody fists and face of hatred could not see him as the Dick he knew.

“Dead.”

He looked up to hear Dick whisper to the thundering sky outside.

“I killed him Jason. The joker is dead. Rest in peace little wing.”

Jason’s feet gave out under him, and he crashed to the ground gasping for breath.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he had been avenged.

Never did he even think that Dick had only killed once… and only for him.

Part two of related series where Jason finds out Bruce nearly killed the Joker:

#headcanons #batfam #dick grayson angst #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #jason todd angst #tim drake #red robin #batfamily headcanons #batman #batman angst #alfred penyworth #damian wayne #batman and robin

[pedgito]

please please PLEASE do a blurb of eddie fucking the reader and shes like struggling and saying “have.. to.. be.. quiet” while eddie is just cooing her telling her that she doesn’t/no one is home

author’s note: i will die on the hill of ‘struggling to be quiet’ fucking, thank you for coming to me ted talk and i hope you enjoy my poorly written smut.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (pulling out), exhibitionism (sort of), eddie being a menace, just another reason to write depraved smut

word count: 1.6k

You were accustomed to the quickies that happened, more often than not, in the back of Eddie’s trailer—early mornings, late nights. Eddie wasn’t particularly fond of fucking you in the back of his van anymore, feeling rushed and uncomfortable, and you deserved to be treated beautifully—not forced onto your knees in the back of some metal death machine, scrapping them up for the sheer idea of getting laid. You deserved a bed, at least—but the only downside to that, despite his lack of being a teen, Eddie still lived with his uncle.

And as often as Wayne was gone, he also couldn’t stay gone forever. Most of the time it could be managed without worry—Wayne was gone more evenings and nights, aside from the rare occasion he had a day off, but Eddie didn’t have any qualms when it came to you and when he needed you—and there really was no denying him, not when you wanted it just as badly.

His uncle doesn’t question when you start staying overnight, it’s not his business and he knows Eddie’s grown and level-headed enough to make good decisions—and you’re good for Eddie, he sees it in the way Eddie carries himself now and in the way he does everything possible to accommodate to you first—it really isn’t necessary, but Wayne raised him to be a gentleman and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that through.

Regardless, Eddie loves to catch you at the most inconvenient times—particularly the warm, summer weekends when Wayne was off, saddled up on the couch in the living room catching up on the latest sports game, television blasting through the trailer.

He knew. He had to.

Besides, Wayne had been nice enough to give Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer—and as a hormonal kid in his last year of high school, it was probably for the best.

He shuts the door with a soft click, the mix of his radio and the booming television drowning out everything else—still, when he fucks you, his hand is clasped tightly over your mouth to drown out every last moan he pulls from you.

Eddie loves it, face lighting up in excitement as you struggled to keep quiet, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at how hard he was fucking into you, panting his own soft breaths over the back of his hand, his face so close your eyelashes could touch.

“Fuck,” He groans brokey, voice cracking on his final thrust, pulling out swiftly to come over the soft expanse of your stomach, pulling his hand away from your mouth,“—baby—“

It’s too loud for your liking, springing up from your reclined position to clasp your hand over his mouth, his eyes falling shut as he tugs at his dick, working through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something against the palm of your hand, another curse or filthy remark, you’re not sure—but you’re more than thankful to have muffled his mouth because there was no surviving the shame of having to walk back to the entrance of the trailer after this.

When Eddie finally calms down, releasing his dick to pull at your hand, he’s laughing—and you can’t help but look at him with absurdity, shoving gently at his bare stomach.

“Eddie,” You say in a hushed voice of warning, “are you trying to get us caught?”

“He’s not stupid,” Eddie replies half-heartedly, shrugging, “He probably went out for a couple smokes anyways—he usually does.”

“Still,” You stress, “If you can’t wait, at least don’t make it so fucking obvious.”

Eddie smiles, tipping your chin up with his forefinger, the curved metal of his ring bumping against the skin.

“You can always say no,” Eddie reminds you playfully, “It didn’t seem like you cared a few minutes ago.”

Your eyes narrow, trying to look as intimidating as you could despite your soft features, “I was trying to be quiet. You were being loud on purpose.”

“You feel good.” He defends weakly, “Sue me.”

You roll your eyes fondly, swatting his hand away gently.

“Well, for my sake, try a little harder please?”

Eddie agrees with cautious regret, knowing he definitely didn’t have enough self control, but if it was for you—he would. And it becomes normal after time, almost too easy, and Eddie takes full advantage of it.

You’ve never fucked in a storage closet, let alone at school, but it’s something you can say you’ve tried at least once—all thanks to Eddie’s steadfast determination. He’s even bold enough to fuck you in the bathroom of your parent’s home during a big dinner with other friends and family—and no one had a clue. Eddie always knew how to take full advantage of every situation, both a blessing and a curse.

But when the rare occasion does come, leaving you both alone for the night and Eddie free of his Hellfire duties, it’s like you don’t know how to handle yourself, forcing yourself to keep quiet out of habit.

You pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth, snuffing out the soft whines begging to escape, the slow, full thrust of Eddie’s hips overwhelming when mixed with his calloused fingers working at your already sensitive clit. He moans unabashed, tossing his head back to throw his hair over his shoulder, free hand gripping your hip like a vice, pulling you against him just as eagerly as he thrust into you.

“Love watching you like this,” Eddie says softly, voice shot from pleasure, “—look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

You nod jerkily, agreeing with whatever he said at that point, brows pulling together in concentration, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He asks teasingly, tongue peeking out past his lips and near the corner of his mouth, smug as fucking ever.

“Have to—“ You pant softly, “have to be quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie pouts endearingly, pulling you against him in a rough snap of his hips, your hands grabbing at his messy sheets.

“No, baby,” He shakes his head, “—it’s just us.”

“But—“ You start to protest, but Eddie's hand comes to grab at your face, gentle despite his quickening pace, less restrained than earlier. “—what if your neighbors, you know—“

It was true, sound traveled far too well in the tiny trailer park—but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I want to hear you,” Eddie tells you honestly, eyes falling upon your face, mouth gaping open in his grip, you nod slightly, “—unless you need me to force it out of you.”

And he could with no problem.

“Turn around,” He instructs softly, pulling out momentarily to adjust your hips until you push up onto your knees, face shoved gently into the mattress, “don’t hold back, baby.”

Eddie came in with a plan, sliding into you with ease, hips snapping at a hurried pace that had you gasping into the sheets, even then they were muffled, all semblance of thought and self control gone, practically drooling into his sheets at the brutal pace he’d set.

It isn’t enough for Eddie though, his hand winding into the back of your hair until it hits the root, yanking your head up tenderly—the strain is bordering on uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, the sound he releases as he thrusts into you with furious precision.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” He says in a haze, head tilted down to watch himself sink into you, squeezing at the dip of your hip, “squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

You nod, mumbling a soft “Uh huh,” in response, but it’s not what Eddie wants—he knows you have it in you, keeping it so calmly at bay.

“Am I making you feel good, too?” Eddie asks teasingly, another quiet nod, the motion weak against his tight hold on your hair. “Say it, baby—who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” You reply softly, pulling gently against his grip until he lets go, palms pressed against the bed to keep you upright, using your own momentum to slam your hips back against him, plunging Eddie so deep your vision feels like it goes spotty, “—fuck, you do.”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He instructs in a sweet tone, leaning back on his calves until you’re seated in his lap, “say my name.”

You gasp as his fingers reach around to find your clit in a desperate attempt to pull you to a quick orgasm—“Eddie.”

“Louder.”

You sob softly, the muscles of your legs twitching as the pressure builds, your body going white hot with euphoric pleasure as you come around Eddie’s cock, crying out a broken, “EddieEddieEddie—“

Eddie curses as he comes a few seconds after, over the swell of your ass, feeling desperate to catch your breath. He leans down a moment later, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of your back, running his hands along your arms gently. He lifts you up slowly until you can face him again, face at chest level from where he stood above you. His face is outlined by the low light of the room, another satisfied grin pulling at his face.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Eddie teases, “I knew you had it in you.”

You roll your eyes light-heartedly, shoving your fist against his abdomen gently, his fingers coming to wrap around your wrist with ease.

“I never said I didn’t.” You counter and Eddie grins even wider.

It’s safe to say that Eddie goes out of his way to make sure the trailer is always cleared from then on, never depriving himself of such an experience ever again.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

[dungeonpuppykai]

please i need a pedri fanfic where his gf gets horny in public and starts teasing him until he takes her somewhere private and fucks her

I love your stories theyre amazinggg

I am (was) on my period hence huge feelies so I added those to this because I am very tender on Pedri as it is. I also see him as a very dominant and caregiving person as well as lover so I hope you don't mind what I've made of your request and enjoy it <3

| Unusual |

Pairing: Bf!Pedri | Gf!You. 

Warning(s): Smut with plot, unprotected p-in-v, d/s undertones (it's literally Pedri), m!dom, f!sub, Daddy kink, suggestive exhibitionism, doggy style, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie, marking, Pedri calling you vida because I am very fond of that idea, caring Pedri, he's also intimidating bc he's Pedri.

.

Pedri sighs as he arrests your impish wrist in his hand for the umpteenth time today and peels it off his thigh before carrying it back to your knee. 

"Vida…" Usually, a stern look is enough for you to mend your ways and start behaving yourself, but today seems to be the day where you decide to grow immunity towards his warnings.

And it usually never comes down to this tone of his because it hardly ever means anything ideal for you. 

But you just can't keep your hands to yourself today. 

You whine under your breath when he resumes his conversation with Gavi; one of his best mates, again. When you are still not paid the attention that you so desperately crave, you sigh and glance around the table at everyone present. 

It is a boring Saturday lunch that the two of you are having with some of your boyfriend's club mates and their girls. You are not to be taken the wrong way. These kinds of things are usually quite fun for you. 

The keyword is usually. 

Because the exception is days when your mind cannot think of anything other than your man's cock while your insides burn. 

The past week was a busy one for Pedri and you are a good girlfriend so you patiently waited, thinking he was gonna give you what you needed most on the night of the big game when he wouldn't have anything left to worry about for a while after. But he was so exhausted when he got home last night that you postponed the fulfillment of your need for the next morning. 

Except, you woke up to your love making breakfast and then informing you over it that the boys had invited you two for lunch. If that wasn't messy enough, he had had some errands to run before said lunch which further crushed any hopes of something quick as well. 

And now, here you are. 

Frustrated, on edge, excited beyond measure, moody, iffy and extremely noncompliant. 

Then, on top of it all, the food is taking forever and the conversations are way too mundane for you; a horny girl who was busy needily ogling at her boyfriend. 

It isn't your fault, really. He looks too fucking great to resist. You know a shave is probably coming and you love him either way but Pedri looks just so hot with the light stubble a few days of negligence has caused on his handsome face. Then his thick dark hair rests on his forehead in the most perfect way as his naturally stern eyes move along with his strong, manly hands each time he makes a gesture. And the way his lips move when he speaks… Your thighs clench at the memories of all the times they have been between them.  

You break against your forced resolve once more when he hums along to whatever Ferran is saying and leans in your direction to pour you a glass of water to drink because you can not track your hydration to save your own life. The sheer dominance in the way he does not break his conservation even once but places the Tumblr in front of you causes a wave of burning hot love to wash over you and then you just can't take it anymore. 

Where you had played with his fingers, snuggled into his arm, groped his thigh and then stroked his leg with your foot before, you think fuck all and 'drop' your napkin which just happens to fall between his feet. 

"Woopsie" of course, Pedri knows you are up to no good when you bend down to 'fetch' it and place your hand on his knee for support. You take your time with 'finding' said napkin and your hand shamelessly trails to his dick in the meantime, hurriedly taking a fat, mighty squeeze before your claw can be pried off its prey. 

Your boyfriend has realized by now to not expect anything innocent from you today because although you are the shy one between the two of you usually, your antics since the moment you took your seats have been of the naughty sort. 

Today is a very unusual day indeed. 

Pedri stills and stops mid sentence, his whole body stiffening as he realizes what is happening. Your party grows concerned over his sudden silence and his ears redden at the awareness of you not coming back up, instead choosing to remain 'searching' for your napkin while clinging your fingers to his now hard cock like your life depends on it. 

"Oh" but of course, the young man is much stronger than you and so your hand is easily manhandled into his. "I see" he pretends as though you have said something to him before standing up and facing your lunch companions. "She needs my help navigating the place for a restroom, we will be right back" the way he cares for you like one would a child is nothing weird for your close friends and family anymore. Pedri helps you out with the smallest of things and the most basic of tasks and that is just the dynamic the two of you share. 

However, there is nothing tender in the way he drags you behind him with a firm hold on your wrist. You whimper when you are taken to a deserted hallway and then pushed into some sort of a cctv-less maintenance room because unless Pedri wants whatever he is about to do to you playing on every other news channel by the evening's end, this would have to do for now. 

"Tsk, tsk, vida" you gulp as you blink repeatedly to get your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. The door slowly clicks shut behind you and you feel your shoulders jump at the sound due to how quiet it is otherwise. You want to turn around and face your lover, perhaps inquire why he's done what he has done but you're both too intimidated and excited to do so. 

Before you can decide what you want to do, his arms snake around your waist from behind to press your back into his chest as his lips brush against your ear. "What am I going to do with you, hm?" A shudder sets off in your bones as his hands begin to re-explore the bumps and crevices of your body. 

You instantly relax in his embrace and crane your neck backwards to lean your head against his shoulder. "I- I dunno…" The two of you move in a sync and his lips find the crook of your neck. "W- What are you going to do with me…?" Though you intend for your words to be one of fear and panic, what ends up dripping from them is pure excitement. 

Pedri groans before your body is pushed up against the many shelves that are mounted on the middle wall that you face. "I think a lesson in basic manners is a good place to start with" you try your best to feign consternation but the eager way in which you fold your arms over one of the shelves and spread your legs as your boyfriend raises the hem of your skirt from behind gives your intentions away. 

"Oh, no!" Yet you push on; so frustrated and needy at this point that any touch from him is good touch for you.

Pedri clicks his tongue before squeezing your panty clad cheeks. "I spoil you too much, don't I, vida?" You let out a soft sound that you subconsciously make when thinking but your boyfriend cuts off your thought process with a loud slap that catches both your cheeks at once. 

"Ow!" You found out just a few days into dating him that he was much stronger than you with how effortlessly he lifted heavy things and manhandled you when you got more comfortable around each other. So it always hurts like a bitch when he's in a reproachful mood. 

"Already?" He taunts you mockingly and lands another mean spank on your buzzing cheeks. "But vida," your eyes flutter close and you have to slither in a heavy gasp when he drapes himself over you from behind, one hand tracing its way up your side to palm one of your boobs, "I haven't even started with you yet." 

"Hnnng, please!" You push your ass backwards to try and turn him on. That is when you realize that he is rock hard already. 

Well, that explains the edge in his usually calm and collected tone. 

"Being a fussy little brat throughout breakfast" two slaps on each cheek. "Refusing to get out of the shower" you hadn't even realized that you had started 'bratting' out of your ire. You whine and bounce as he settles upon a rhythm. "Scrolling your silly little social media instead of getting ready for lunch" he suddenly yanks your panties off and despite the sting in your backside, you feel your needy hole clench before releasing a thick blob of pure hot arousal. "And then behaving like a perverted little maniac throughout–" the sound that the meeting of his unforgiving fingers with your nether lips -due to the gap that your squirming has caused between your thighs- creates is stunning enough to momentarily mum your boyfriend who is usually a composed know-it-all. 

"Hm~!" The sound is tugged out from deep within your vocal cords. Your knees tremble when you feel Pedri's prying fingers worm their way between your crack before he spreads your privates out. 

"Geez, vida" his breath is hot on your pucker and the snort he lets out when the sensation causes it to clench unconsciously makes blood rush to your face. "I know you're a horny little thing but fuck have you made a mess?" He can act as judgemental as he wants but you know that he loves every little drop of the need that he makes you feel. 

Which is all the time. 

You pout and instinctively push yourself closer to his face. "N- Need you… D- Daddy…" 

"Need me?" Your teeth trap your bottom lip between them when you feel one of his thumbs inch closer to your sopping cunt. "Where do you need me, baby?" 

You whine as your forehead creases. "Y- You know where!" 

He chuckles. "I don't think right now is the time when you push your luck, vida" your features push themselves upwards when you feel the tip of his thumb graze against the outline of your pussy lips. You let out an icy whimper in response so he adds; "Come on, if you tell me how you need me I'll give it to you" though he pretends as though he is unaffected by the sight he faces, you can hear the agitated urgency in his voice.

Your hips timidly try to move against his finger that refuses to give you anything beyond enticing yet unfulfilling strokes over your squishy petals. "I- I… n- need you i- in…" You hear clinking behind you but you are too busy in your desperation to find something pleasurable in the thumb that presses against you. "Inm- mypussy,Daddy" the questioning hum that he lets out rings in your ear when he is behind you within the next second and the way in which his cock jabs its way through your eager entrance at the same time causes for your eyes to bulge out. 

"What was that, baby?" Pedri has to clamp one of his palms over your mouth to keep you from moaning out loud. The sudden bustle that sounds right outside the wardrobe as if on cue causes him to quickly pull back and fuck into you harder as you clench to aid him. It is greedy and rushed; the both of you aware of how you are dangling by a thin thread but the franticness to devour one another so extreme in your bodies that you want to finish before you are caught. 

It is the only goal. 

"I couldn't quite catch that" the way he roughly whispers in your ear to avoid detection from the manager who is busy barking orders at the staff outside while wrapping a hand around your hair has you arching your back as you get fucked into the shelf. When you refuse to respond, he has to add with a mean fondling of your boobs; "Come on, vida. Now you know better than to disobey Daddy when he can very easily destroy you for it" your lust-drunk body springs up in alarm. 

The executions of his threats are always deadly and edging is not even the last thing that you want right now. 

"I…" His cock is too pleasurable inside you as he pushes in before pulling out its length through your tight entrance with each speeding thrust, its girth putting the most knee weakening strain on the band of your pussy as his bulging veins and coarse edges rub against your sensitive walls in a way that causes your head to spin. 

Your head is yanked back by your hair. His lips ghost over the skin of your temple that gets overwhelmed by his irregular breathing. "Go on, vida. You're doing so well taking my cock" his other hand parts from your boobs to reach for one of your knees before it is bent to be propped against one of the lower shelves. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut to clench themselves at how far up you feel him, his thick tip colliding with your special spot as a result. "Say it for me." 

"I- I need you i- in my pussy, Daddy!" Your cry is rather loud but neither of you are in the mind to care about that anymore. Your hips tighten when the snapping of his hips escalates to full on pounding and the towels and little bottles placed on the shelves begin to rattle and tumble all over. "Always need you in my pussy, Daddy!" He rewards you with the dipping of his fingers between your thighs.

"Good girl" the digits easily find your squelching cunt and he uses his grip on your hair to pull your head to one side so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

The gliding of his fingers is too much for your desperately worked up and frustrated pussy to handle so when his hand uncurls from your hair to pinch one of your nipples while his teeth nibble on that one sensitive patch of your skin, you can't help but throw your head back to let out a gut wrenching moan. 

Your vision fills with neon colors and your hearing declines. The tension within your hips is pulled loose and heat surges through every single knot that has formed in your muscles over the week. Pedri's hot cum that fills you soon after is the perfect end and you finally feel in place after days. 

Sex has the opposite effect on the both of you; while it helps Pedri clear his head, yours gets fuzzy instead. So it is him who fixes you up when he decides that he is done with you for now. You meekly stand like a baby– his baby as he pats your disheveled hair down, adjusts your bra and mends your outfit to the best of his ability. 

"Look at the mess you have made, vida" you whine and snuggle into his chest so you can hide your flushed face when he points out the wreck that you two have made of the place. Pedri chuckles as he fishes out some compensatory money from his wallet and places the bills on one of the shelves before taking your hand in his and helping you walk back to the table as you happily waddle behind him, senses numb but relaxed. No one says anything or even acknowledges your long absence but they know.

The flaming red hickey on your neck is the evidence to their suspicions. 

.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri smut #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri fanfic #pedri x you #pedri blurb #pedri x y/n #fc barcelona #fc barça #fc barca #barca x reader #footballer smut #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fic #footballer x you #la liga #pedrito #pedri barça #Pedri

[euphor1a]

Jeonghan eats you out on his desk

thirst drabbles (9/∞)

fandom » svt

pairing » jeonghan x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, workplace au, boss au

word count » ~ 1710

warnings » profanity, dom/sub undertones, office sex, dirty talk, sir kink, brief breast play, jeonghan is a biter, fingering, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, long haired jeonghan (... yeah 🥴), hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything!

The dim and warm night lights of his office bounce off the bare skin of your body, illuminating you in a glow that makes Jeonghan dazed. You pant against his firm chest, all your clothes scattered around the office, blindly thrown off by the gorgeous man who rubs your clit over your panties. The soft cotton has soaked through, providing lubrication between the material and your sensitive areas. 

This certainly isn’t what you expected when you were notified to join your boss for an overnight shift to sort out some problems right before clocking out. Even for Jeonghan — he has no idea how it got this far, but it happened, and he has no intention of stopping now. 

It’s not like he has had a silly little crush on you since forever. And he has definitely never ever daydreamed about things he should not be fantasizing with a junior employee. Thankfully though, none of that matters now. You’re all bare and vulnerable in his arms, shaking and whimpering, entirely under his mercy. 

Jeonghan pushes you further back on the smooth mahogany desk, his searching honey browns finally meeting you. However, your immediate response is to lower your eyes, avoiding the gaze that’s intense enough to eat you up. As if for revenge, he removes the hand from your aching core, depriving you of the stimulation. You whine weakly, looking back up to see why he stopped. 

A knowing smirk adorns his cherry lips, his eyes tingling with lust and fondness. “Awh, you didn’t like that one bit, huh?” Jeonghan teases, holding your jaw so you can’t look away. Unable to dodge his question, you nod, still very shy. Even though you are in a state like this — he is still your boss. 

“Use your words, angel.” He leans down a bit, those long, raven strands of his hair creating a sheer curtain over some parts of his face. You gulp, failing to look away from the enticing sight. How can a human be so good looking?

“C’mon now, baby, put that pretty mouth of yours to use.” Jeonghan tuts, eyes squinting in disapproval. That makes your stomach jump, and you blurt out a very unsure ‘please.’ 

“Please what?” His smooth chuckle fills up the silent room and you swear your heart skips a beat. You’ve never heard him laugh before. But the sound of it is so effortlessly attractive, you can’t help your own lips curling upwards. He pauses for a split second, a hum reverberating in his throat. “Are you embarrassed? Don’t be, baby. I already got you leaking and all needy, there’s no point of shying away now, yeah?” 

Heat rushes your cheeks, because he isn’t lying at all. “Um, Sir—” you begin, struggling to find the right words. Jeonghan wonders if he should ask you to call him by his name, but realizes that the ‘Sir’ is a bigger turn on than he expected. He rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt a bit more, loosening the tie from around his neck. You know he’s testing your sanity, but he just looks so fucking hot doing it. 

“Mhm, go on, angel.” 

“Please touch me. Please. It hurts.” 

Excitement bubbles up in his chest. But he hides it masterfully, scrunching up his face in pity. “Oh no, does it? I’m so sorry to hear that, angel.” Jeonghan lets his right hand stroke along your inner thigh, making you shudder. “Where does it hurt? Lemme make you feel better.” 

You consider saying it out loud, but you discard that option almost immediately. So instead, you gently grab on the hand stroking your thigh and place it to cup your clothed pussy. “Fuck,” Jeonghan hisses at the feeling, applying a bit pressure on your cunt, coaxing a moan out of you.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby. And it’s worse because you seem like you don’t know it.” Your boss rasps, pushing you down until your back hits the hardwood. You prop up using your elbows, gasping when he grips the back of your head and finds your lips for a kiss. His other hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, coming in contact with your moist warmth that drips for his attention. 

Jeonghan groans in the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth without much resistance from your side. You almost feel like you’re melting, his fingers steadily rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves and getting slathered up in your juices. His tongue is dominant against yours, swirling and slurping, sensitizing you further. 

You arch your back, your neglected, erect nipples pressing into his chest. Jeonghan moves the hand from the back of your head, immediately grasping the soft flesh and making you cry out. You pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to catch your breath, eyes a bit teary from all the sensations you feel. 

He leans down to touch your foreheads together, his hot breath fanning over your face and his nose nuzzling into yours. Jeonghan has noticed how sensitive and responsive you are to his actions, and it makes his heart swell. As if he isn’t fond of you enough already.

You whimper when he pinches your stiffened nipple between his thumb and index, his lips peppering butterfly kisses on your nose and cheeks. “Am I making you feel good, hm?” Jeonghan catches your earlobe between his teeth, gnawing at it. You nod desperately, gasping when he slips his middle finger into your sopping core. 

“Answer me, baby.” Your boss trails wet kisses down your neck, biting down where it meets your shoulders. A strangled moan escapes you, your body buzzing with pleasure. 

“Ugh, y-yes, Sir,” You stutter as he wraps his lips around your nipple, his teeth and tongue working wonders together. Jeonghan wishes he could consume you entirely. He leaves bites all over your breasts, his growing bulge pressing into your thigh. 

He pulls you in for a messy kiss, another finger entering your cunt. Your cries of pleasure get muffled in his mouth as he increases his speed significantly, loud squelching sounds filling up the office. “Can you hear that, angel? You are so wet for me, swallowing my fingers greedily and squeezing them like a lewd girl.” 

You clench at his words, ecstasy building up very rapidly with his fast pumps. It makes you lose the ability to think properly. The way he’s constantly hitting the spots that make you mushy, the way he curls his fingers inside your molten warmth, it’s too much. You are so, so close to— 

Jeonghan stops moving his digits, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you. Denied from the obvious upcoming release, your body jolts up, a few tears escaping your eyes. You whine, watching your boss tugging down your absolutely ruined panties. 

“Shh, don’t cry, I promise I’m gonna make it up to you.” He tosses away the piece of clothing, finally taking a look at your pussy. “Good. Fucking. Lord,” Jeonghan mutters at the sight, his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers. He has reduced you to an utter mess — clit all swollen; all of your pussy covered with the warm, slippery slick that leaks out of your hole. 

Jeonghan licks his lips instinctively, placing both of your legs on his shoulders before leaning in to press a fleeting kiss on your mound. You cover your mouth with your hand, the extreme ache for some sort of stimulation blinding you. On the other hand, he attacks your inner thigh with bites, trying his best to control himself despite the dizzying scent of your arousal that calls for him. 

“Please,” you beg, eyes watering once again, “Sir, I can’t.” Jeonghan looks up from between your legs, his hot breath puffing against your aching cunt. 

“Don’t hide your face. I wanna see and hear you as you fall apart and gush in my mouth.” You remove your hand immediately, gripping on the side of the desk instead. Satisfied, he locks his lips with your nether ones, suckling on them soundly. His tongue strokes your clit and runs along your slit, your body visibly shaking from relief. A grunt rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, fuck— you taste s’good.” 

Jeonghan watches you keenly, the way you twitch and moan, and the way you grip on the desk for dear life. On a whim, he takes your right hand and urges you to grip onto his luscious locks instead. You’re taken aback, but comply anyway, threading your fingers through his hair. 

A sudden bite on your clit has you screaming, your fingers tightening and tugging on his hair. Jeonghan growls, and you know that he’s satisfied by the way his lips curl upwards around your pussy. You’re shaking, losing your mind at how good he’s eating you out. Desperate for a release, you wound your other hand in his hair as well, rocking your hips against his face. 

Jeonghan slips his tongue inside your cunt as if on approval, his teeth dragging along the raw flesh of your core. His thumb finds your aching clit, rubbing it in tight ‘eight’s, a string of incoherent words leaving you. You pull onto his hair, feeling like you’re going to melt. He can tell that you’re close, the denied orgasm that left you overly sensitive amplifying all the sensations. 

Several tears fall from your eyes, body tensing up as the coil inside your lower stomach snaps finally. You scream out his name, gripping onto his hair for dear life, body convulsing with waves of ecstasy. Jeonghan moans at the taste of your sweet release on his tongue, your gummy walls clamping down onto the flexible muscle. 

Your body gives up as you lay down on the table, breathing uneven and body shuddering from the aftermath. Jeonghan takes his sweet time slurping up all the precious juices you’ve given him to devour. You lose all your thoughts for several moments, floating through the euphoria. 

The sound of his belt buckle brings you back from the seventh heaven. You open your eyes, immediately blessed with the view of your boss’s toned chest and stomach. Feeling your gaze on him, Jeonghan unzips and pulls down his pants, a coy smile on his lips. 

“You didn’t think that we’re done here, did you?” 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it hehe 🫣! i certainly enjoyed writing it... 🤒; actually i was a mess but hey i made it through saur anyway 🧍🏽‍♀️ apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

this was requested by @baljinciaga a while back when i opened up my requests! thank you for the request fren, i hope i could deliver what you asked for~~ “I've been on jeonghan kick lately and this man had the audacity to chop his hair off before I became a fan skdrffyrhfht. Do you think you could do a drabble where he has long hair and you grip it while he's eating you out 😚”!

requests are back to being closed now!

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#🪄; things i’ve written #♨️; thirst drabbles! #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #kpop smut #seventeen x reader #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #please don't ask me the color of anything #gOD i can't explain the state i was in while writing this #i'm still fucking shaking #is this even a drabble anymore? idk man ufhueijhfhuweihfiu #words just kept coming out he's sooooo 😳😵‍💫🫠‼️‼️‼️ #i promised myself to keep thirst drabbles within 1k words. then the joshua drabble happened. so i said y'know what 1.5k is the limit #now we have this. idek anymore jedhcfgcfggu #sigh... i'm a mess. hope you guys like it #why do i do this to maself </3

[sohnric]

MAGNETISM — B. JACOB

pairing: jacob bae x gn! reader

genre: fluff

word count: 500

warnings: none!

a/n: haven't posted something so short in a while wow. have this as i struggle to finish my longer wips ahaha

Blue light shines over his face as he lays in the bed with his phone in his hand. Headphones are slotted in his ears as he listens to his music on low volume, the flashes of the game he’s been playing announcing to him that he won the round with the outstanding lead on everyone, making a childlike sense of pride swell in his chest.

An arm sneaks around his middle at that, his head turning and eyes squinting at your face in a worry that he somehow managed to wake you up from your slumber. Darkness envelops the room, given the late hours of the night, but he manages to make out the shapes of your closed eyes, your long eyelashes crowning the tips of your full cheeks. 

The contact of you pulling him closer to you makes the pride in his chest bloom bigger, a gentle smile battling its way onto his lips. Jacob locks his phone and puts it on the mattress next to him, the rest of the room falling into a complete darkness that is only fought away by the soft beam of moonlight coming from the window on the side of his room. His eyes can’t help but stay glued to your figure, studying your sleeping face. 

He would like to imprint the image of your face just like this, lying peacefully next to him, into his memory forever. There’s nothing special about it, in the mundane nature of it all, but something about the way he feels particularly fond of you, insides laced with softness he only has reserved for you and you only, makes him put more significance to the late hours of the day. You came into his life slowly, creeping your way in, as naturally as the seasons change– without him noticing at first, but making him gape wordlessly at the difference in temperatures when he looks back a few months later.

It’s like you put the sun into his sky, turning his days into a constant golden hour. He can’t help but worship your ability to chase away the thunders and the clouds, he can’t help but think of you every morning and every night, treasuring your sheer existence in his chest more than anything in the world.

A gentle hand is placed onto your back, fingertips oozing with magical magnetism when he holds you in his arms. It’s like you two were made for each other, attached with invisible strings, only waiting to be pulled together in the tumbles and turns of your lifetimes. 

Jacob hopes he finds you in every universe. The words feel grandiose in his brain, too much weight put on a simple feeling, but the more he thinks about it, although admitting it’s foolish and romantic, the more he thinks it’s right.

Paying you one last look before he decides to doze off, a flickering thought passes through his brain. I think I’m falling in love, his brain waves hum, and for a split second, the sentiment sounds almost unrealistic, just the tiniest bit strange on his tongue.

Still, when he looks at you again, soft flesh all his against his chest, he knows it’s true. Life didn’t stop when he fell, but he certainly thinks he was reborn the day you picked him up to his feet. He falls asleep with the words ‘love, love, love’ chanting in his brain, wishing that the frequencies you operate on match– hoping that you get the memo; even in your dreams.

#deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #jacob bae x reader #bae joonyoung x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fluff #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #jacob bae fluff #jacob bae imagines #jacob bae scenarios #the boyz oneshots #jacob bae oneshot #bae joonyoung oneshot

[hisui-dreamer]

this time

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x gn!reader

Synopsis: your cowardice cost you from confessing to him once, but maybe you can get a second chance this time.

Tags: pinning, fluff, unrequited requited crushes, post-NRC, bot proofread

Word count: 1.5k+

Notes: this is dedicated to @azulashengrottospiano! thank you so much for changing my perspective on confessions and crushes, and i'll forever keep your words in mind haha. i hope you'll find this fic enjoyable!

Masterlist

In the moment, you just knew; your feelings for him had never faded away.

It was as if the currents of time had kept your feelings for him hidden, carefully tucked away in a secret chamber of your heart. They lay dormant, patiently biding their time, while you busied yourself with the distractions of life after graduation. But the second you caught a glimpse of his aquamarine eyes, it was as if a dam had burst, unleashing a torrent of long-suppressed emotions that flooded your being.

Your friendship with Azul had been forged in an unexpected twist of fate, woven together by trust and mutual benefit. It all began when Jade fell ill after consuming a poisonous mushroom he had foraged on one of his hikes. In a moment of urgency, Azul found himself desperately in need of a temporary replacement.

At the time, the two of you were merely acquaintances, barely exchanging more than a few polite words. However, when Azul approached you knowing you had the skills to alleviate his mountains of paperwork, which he had seen from Crowley’s increasing spare time, you agreed to stand in for Jade as long as he would pay you handsomely.

Looking back, you’re so glad you agreed to help, and even more glad he had offered you the position.  

As you took on the role of Azul's secretary, you discovered a harmonious synergy between your skills and his needs. Your efficiency and attention to detail complemented his demanding work style, creating a seamless workflow that allowed him to navigate his responsibilities with ease. It was a delicate dance, a symphony of coordination and cooperation.

But amidst the professional arrangement, something unexpected unfolded. Beneath the facade of business transactions and financial arrangements, you soon found yourself enamoured with Azul's charismatic charm and intellect, his genuine appreciation for your support and efforts. Really, how could you not? You loved how he seemed so proud to others, yet he would show such vulnerable sides of himself when Floyd would push his limits. You loved the way his face would soften, the hint of a subtle, soft smile that graced his lips when you brewed his favourite tea just right. The genuine gratitude in his eyes as he whispered a heartfelt "thanks" echoed in your mind, warming your heart. And you loved how even after Jade recovered, he noticed how overworked and weary you were, the dark circles under your eyes deepening, and he let you rest on the couch in his office, his trench coat acting as a comforting blanket that smelled of him.  Time slipped away as you slept, the entire duration of the restaurant's bustling hours, yet he remained faithfully by your side to watch over you.

Oh, you loved him, without a doubt.

But you were also a coward.

You wished so dearly to express your feelings to him, to summon the courage and hope against hope that he might, just maybe, reciprocate your affections even just a little bit. But the sheer intensity of your emotions weighed upon your heart, casting shadows of doubt and uncertainty. Should you confess the depths of your emotions now, or would it unravel the delicate threads of the beautiful friendship you had painstakingly woven together?

In the end, fear had won the battle. The fear of rejection, of irrevocably altering the dynamics that had kept you so close. And so, after graduation, life took you on separate paths, causing you to drift apart, your feelings fading away into nothing but a fond memory of your school days.

Until now, that is.

Azul sits across the table from you, a vision of charisma and charm. His presence alone fills the restaurant with an undeniable magnetism. The atmosphere crackles with a sense of anticipation, mingled with a tinge of bittersweet nostalgia. The twins, Floyd and Jade, were supposed to join you both for this reunion lunch, but Floyd had conveniently fallen ill, and Jade stayed behind to look after him. It's as if fate has conspired to create this moment, this opportune time for the two of you to reconnect.

As you gaze at Azul, you can't help but notice how he incredibly handsome he is, even more so having matured over the years. His curly silver hair delicately frames his face, adding a touch of sophistication to his appearance. His cool blue eyes shimmer with a hint of shyness and fondness, drawing you deeper into his gaze.

Lost in conversation and the delectable flavours of the meal, your attention is suddenly drawn to Azul's tender gesture. His hand reaches out, moving with graceful precision, as he gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, ensuring it stays clear of the food. The touch is tender and intimate, a subtle act of care that leaves you breathless. In that fleeting moment, a surge of warmth courses through your veins, igniting a flutter of butterflies in the depths of your stomach.

But before you can fully savour the intensity of the moment, Azul's voice breaks through, laced with a hint of apology and concern. "Oh... sorry..." he mumbles. His hand retreats, as if realising the potential discomfort he may have caused. The fleeting touch is gone, but its impact remains as you feel your cheeks warm at his actions.

Oh, you're still hopelessly in love with Azul, just as you have always been.

A rush of emotions floods your being, creating a whirlwind of conflicting desires. You yearn to tell him how his touch ignited a flame within you, how it awakened feelings that have long been buried beneath the surface. But fear and uncertainty hold you captive, trapping the words within the depths of your heart.

"No, Azul," you say softly, summoning the courage that lies within, offering him a reassuring smile. "You didn't make me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually."

His eyes widen in surprise, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. A flicker of relief dances in his gaze, mingling with a renewed spark of hope.

"Oh... I'm glad then," he answers, his lips twitching in a manner that you know is his attempt to hide his embarrassment. A soft blush tints his cheeks, adding a touch of warmth to his already captivating features.

You feel the tension between you easing, and a sense of comfort settling in the air. The nervousness that had consumed the space between you dissipates, making room for a new energy, an anticipation of what lies ahead.

"Azul, you mentioned you're in need of a new secretary, right?" you inquire, seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation towards the unspoken desires that have silently entwined your hearts.

He nods, his brows furrowing slightly as he tries to comprehend the direction of the conversation. The corner of his lips quirks up in a curious smile, silently urging you to continue.

"Well," you pause, your voice soft but filled with determination, "do you think I'd be fit for the job?"

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for Azul's response. His gaze lingers on you, his eyes searching your face for any hint of jest or uncertainty. There is a moment of silence, pregnant with anticipation, as the weight of your words settles between you.

A gentle smile graces Azul's lips, radiating warmth and affection. The flush on his cheeks deepens, adding to his irresistible charm. In that instant, he becomes the epitome of loveliness, a sight that captivates your heart and steals your breath away. His vulnerability, displayed in the gentle quiver of his lips, only makes you appreciate him more deeply.

Azul coughed gently as he covers his mouth, an attempt to regain composure and gather his thoughts. His gaze briefly averts, the vulnerability replaced by a sense of composed professionalism. His words stumble out, laced with a touch of awkwardness, but beneath it all, his true intentions shine through.

"W-well, obviously we're going to go through the proper procedure and an interview…" he stammers, the uncertainty in his voice betraying his attempt at maintaining a façade of formality.

But then, Azul's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. The touch is delicate yet electric, sending a jolt of warmth coursing through your veins. The colours intensify, the air brimming with an electric energy that crackles between you. And when he speaks, his voice becomes a soothing melody, a sound that resonates within the depths of your soul, a melody you long to hear every day.

"But Angelfish," he says, his voice a tender caress that wraps around your heart, "you would not only be fit for the job, but you would bring a light to my days that no other secretary ever could. I can think of no better person than you."

His words penetrate the barriers you've built around your heart, shattering the doubts and fears that have plagued you for so long. A surge of joy and relief washes over you, manifesting as a bright smile that graces your face. Your eyebrows furrow shyly, a remnant of your school days, as if you're transported back to that time when everything was new and uncertain. But this time, there is no more running away, no more holding back.

This time, you would surely become his.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#also idk if it's obvious but azul's been pining since forever #the twins ditched intentionally hahahaha #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader

[pufflehuffing]

I'm Well Acquainted With Villains That Live In My Head. - Sebastian Sallow

pairing: post-relic Sebastian Sallow  genre: angst, read at your own discretion, this is your only warning!  warnings: HL spoilers ✧ death ✧ poor mental health ✧ mentions of suicide and murder ✧ self-harm ✧ torture ✧ abuse ✧ hypothermia ✧ vulgar language summary: Sebastian is sentenced to live the rest of his days in Azkaban where his mind is slowly corrupted by the darkness and despair surrounding him, the only thing saving him from the Dementors being his obsession with those who left him behind to rot. [part 1] A/N: I wrote this to Mansion and Perception, albums by NF in case you want to set the mood. Thinking of turning this into a Dark!Sebastian series if this fic is received well! I've already written two other chapters.

If Sebastian couldn't already see Thestrals, he would've been graced by the unfortunate ability to do so now. The last words Anne spoke to him that dreadful day were the only thoughts still swimming in his clouded mind while the bitter cold seeped into his purple fingers and crawled its way towards his neck, finding refuge along his pale skin. 

“You’ve made your choice.” 

Not an exclamation out of blind anger or hurt; not a plea for him to mend his ways. But instead, a verdict. One that was somehow worse than the one placed on him by the Wizengamot. The vivid memory of that cloudy afternoon in Feldcroft still looms over Sebastian. Flashes of green lightning still spark in the corners of his mind. Then, red ones accompanied by the familiar voice of his twin shouting Bombarda. The spellbook of Salazar Slytherin was—Sigh. The spellbook… 

Sebastian remembers crying out a fry scream to her and weakly reaching out a hand as he slumped against the cobblestone wall of the catacomb, but alas, he was too late. It vanished into thin air—Along with the relic. Along with his innocence. Along with Anne, who Apparated away with the forever-sleeping body of their uncle, without even granting Sebastian one final look in his eyes.

Once he managed to get up, his manic state carried him out of the catacomb, his feet moving before he could process his actions. In an act of pure survival, Sebastian conjured his broom and flew back to Hogwarts, too shaken up to Apparate to the Undercroft without risking splinching. When he landed in the Transfiguration courtyard, his classmates were returning from dinner and crowding the now unfamiliar surroundings. Sebastian stumbled off his broom and hurried inside the Defence Against The Dark Arts Tower, feeling like he would both pass out and throw up from the sheer panic he was enduring. He hobbled through the corridor and up the stairs, clutching the railing to ground himself like his life depended on it, avoiding interactions with anyone in the sea of people that was now swallowing him whole.

Before his friends and classmates alike had a chance to clear their shocked expressions and ask him what was wrong, Sebastian had already disappeared. He paced through the Undercroft, biting his fingers and pulling on his hair while his mind raced a hundred miles an hour. Finally, Ominis arrived. Then, she did. The new fifth-year. The Hero of Hogwarts. The girl who had such a prowess as a wielder of Ancient Magic. The girl he had hoped would help him save Anne once he had the relic. He fell to his knees and pleaded. Pleaded with his closest friend and the girl he had grown so fond of to understand. Please understand. “I did it for her,” he lamented over and over again. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to—”

What happened after, was a blur to the boy. He was beside himself with remorse and grief. Not only for his uncle, but for his friends too. For Anne. For Ominis. For her. Sebastian did not know who told the Headmaster of his actions, but he was picked up by Professor Sharp and sent to Black's office at the highest point of Hogwarts a few days later, just before his first class of the day. He had begged and begged them not to turn him in, claiming Anne needed him by her side, but unfortunately he wasn’t granted that trust. Was it Ominis who finally had enough? Was it— A tight grasp on his cloaked shoulder led him through the nearly empty corridors before he could process what was going on.

The clutch of the ex-Auror somehow felt familiar, as if Sebastian was being dragged outside by uncle Solomon for coming home with yet another shrivelfig in hopes of curing Anne. Roughly pushed inside the Headmaster's office and onto a chair, Sebastian faced Black and his eyes shifted away in shame. Lowering his head to hide into his shoulder, his tear-filled gaze flickered to see Professor Weasley standing near the window, her face darkened by the light behind her. She… looked so… disappointed. Was that even the right word? No. Heartbroken. Distressed. Sorrowful. A look that Sebastian had grown somewhat accustomed to after getting into trouble so many times before for breaking curfew or pulling pranks, however it was now magnified beyond comprehension.

“Mr. Sallow,” Black began in his typically aloof manner as he paced in front of his desk with his hands behind his back, feigning authority. “We've received word of your…eh, endeavours outside of school grounds and—” He was interrupted by Sharp clearing his throat. Sebastian lifted his face to the front again, like a wounded animal looking for someone to help. He noticed Sharp sending his superior a pointed look, to which he received a nod, granting him permission to speak as Black stepped aside. The former Auror’s voice then resounded through the office as he went to stand in front of Sebastian too, crossing his arms beside the awkward Headmaster. “Mr. Sallow, we'll cut to the chase,” his piercing stare bored into the fifth-year, as if he were interrogating him on the Ministry's behalf. “The Ministry has sent two Aurors on their way to apprehend you. They'll be arriving shortly.”

Sebastian’s ears perked up and he blinked his tears away. Aurors. Ex-colleagues of Sharp. Ex-colleagues of… Solomon. He hoped he’d see Officer Singer, whom he knew from Hogsmeade. Perhaps he could fall into her good graces again and somehow convince her this was somehow all a grave mistake, that the boy who helped defend Hogsmeade against a troll attack at the beginning of the year had merely acted out of self-defence. Unfortunately luck was never on the Sallow family's side. 

Sebastian didn't remember much else from the conversation, he could only stare: at the floor, at the professors’ clothes as he was too ashamed to look them in the eyes. Professor Weasley broke the silence before Sharp’s piercing gaze could take another chance to fire. “Before you go, Sebastian,” she began with her motherly voice, giving him some dignity by calling him by his first name. “Your sister’s owl has delivered a letter to Headmaster Black for you that she wants us to read to you.”

Weasley took a deep breath and swallowed down her emotions, wanting to grant Sebastian a proper reading of his sister's final words to her brother who never gave up on her. It was the most she could do for him now. The Deputy Headmistress cleared her throat and unfolded the letter as she took in Sebastian's slouched posture. Memories of him asking her about her previous job as a Curse-Breaker and begging her to help him find a cure for Anne's curse flashed before her eyes and she cleared her throat to calm herself again. The motherly woman looked back down at the parchment that was dotted with dried tears and shaky handwriting. She began reading with a strained voice, forcing the words out as clearly as she could without stopping, giving Sebastian his last taste of humanity before he'd be taken away to face the horrors the Wizengamot would make him endure.

“Sebastian, Too much has happened. I needed to get away from here for a while. I miss Uncle Solomon. I need time. I will always love you, but I don't know if I can ever forgive you. Anne”

A deafening silence fell over the four people in the room. Professor Weasley rubbed her lips together as she placed the letter back in its envelope with trembling hands. She mustered the courage to look Sebastian in the eyes again and saw that he was staring at the floor again. Silent tears streamed down the boy’s face as he imagined his sister’s voice telling him he won’t be forgiven. Headmaster Black broke the silence by taking a deep, snotty breath. “Mr. Sallow—”

Before he could continue, his authority was once again pushed aside by banging on the door. Sebastian broke out into a fever and sweat poured out of his skin. The Aurors. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. A way out. The door to the balcony. No. The window. And go where? Perhaps I could just drop dead and— He couldn’t even finish the thought. The lump in his throat travelled up to the back of his mouth while Professor Sharp’s boots boomed across the office. He opened the door and raised an eyebrow before straightening himself again. “Ah. Headmaster Black, a visitor.” Sebastian didn’t dare turn around to see who it was when Sharp stepped aside to show a blond quiff standing in the doorway. Professor Weasley’s heart broke even further when she saw the shaking black wand in his hand and the crust of dried tears on his cheeks.

“Mr. Gaunt,” Black piped up with a head tilt when he recognised the family friend. A Gaunt was always welcome in his office. Sebastian's eyes snapped to the door, turning his head so quickly that his neck cracked like a whip and his muscles tightened and burned. “Come in,” the Headmaster continued. The red light at the tip of the shaking wand carried Ominis inside the office, standing just beside the door while Sharp closed it behind him. Sebastian wanted to call out to him, but he couldn’t find the strength to do so.

“What is it, Mr. Gaunt?” Black cocked his chin to look down at the boy through his lashes. Ominis’ milky eyes lifted and he turned his head. “I… I wanted to see Sebastian before he’s—” His voice sounded like sandpaper scratching against metal. He had been crying. The trembling off his hand expanded to the rest of his body when he choked out another sentence. “I need to tell him something, sir.”

The three adults exchanged a dubious look before flickering their gaze back to the boy on the chair and the boy by the door. Sebastian could only stare at his best friend, he couldn’t believe this was real. “Very well. Spit it out, Mr. Gaunt,” Black nodded with a hum. Ominis was too distressed to focus on his wand telling him where Sebastian was positioned in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and his fist tightened while he took a deep breath. After a few seconds, he lifted his head in Sebastian’s direction, his voice quiet as a mouse. “Sebastian, it… It was Rookwood who cursed Anne, not the goblins.”

Sebastian couldn’t believe it at first, then he realised it all made sense. The new fifth-year being ambushed in Hogsmeade, the raid on Feldcroft to search the Morganach home, the digging under Rookwood castle... “Children should be seen, not heard.” Why didn’t she tell him? She was chasing Rookwood every chance she got! His anger towards goblins and dark wizards only grew. His anger towards her grew. A guttural gasp escaped Sebastian’s mouth and his breathing grew heavy. She had stood beside Sebastian throughout the entire school year, coddling him with words of comfort and reassurance, all while she knew. She. Knew. That’s why she didn’t want to pressure the Keepers about knowledge of her magical abilities. She knew it wouldn’t matter. She knew and didn’t tell him. 

Blind rage started bubbling inside Sebastian again, just like it had a few days ago, which Professor Sharp noticed. He watched him closely, his hand on his wand, ready to draw if Sebastian made a sudden move. A thick, heavy silence fell over the five people in the room. Sebastian’s fiery eyes bored into the floor, it was a miracle the floorboards didn’t scorch under his burning gaze. Five minutes of silence later, they were startled by two booming knocks on the office door. With a heavy sigh, Headmaster Black opened it. When he recognised the navy uniforms, he nodded solemnly and stepped aside. 

Two Aurors walked into the office with raised wands. Sebastian still sat frozen. Professor Weasley’s eyes flickered to the now infinitely small boy. Seeing him sit in the middle of the room, she almost felt like his trial had already started. The boy who had so much love to give, now reduced to a criminal. A teenage criminal. A child… One of the men spoke, a thick Scottish accent booming through the office. “Mr. Sallow, you are under arrest for the murder of Solomon Sallow,” was all Sebastian heard through the grainy noise in his mind. A sudden grasp on his shoulder shocked him back to the walls that seemed to close in on him. He was dragged up to his feet by the other officer. Sebastian’s instincts kicked. He struggled. Then, he screamed out to Ominis. He screamed. Again. And again. And again… All while the officers did their best to cast the Incarcerous spell on him. Tears started falling out of his eyes like a river, too flooded to see Ominis was weeping too. The blind boy’s trembling hand let go of his wand, and it fell to the ground. Now completely disoriented, he shut his eyes again and clawed at them with his palms as he cried. 

Before Sebastian could reach his hand out to give Ominis a final goodbye, a final touch, the Aurors decided Petrificus Totalis was easier to restrain him. He felt his muscles tighten and spasm until he stood stiff, his arm now beside his body instead. From his hazy eyes, he could still make out the black cloak of the boy in front of him, which was being wrapped in red-coloured limbs. Professor Weasley. The tears that dripped from the brunette’s eyes cleared, and he saw Ominis, who was hugged tightly as he cried while she turned her face away from Sebastian with a pained grimace. Before he could make out the vague shapes of Sharp and Black, he Apparated away with the two men holding his arms. This was it… Gone. All of it. His sister, his uncle, his friends, his… Life. Freedom.

To be continued.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #if anyone tries to give me shit for writing an azkaban fic literally just block me this has been a wip since january and you don't own #the concept of azkaban

[rmd-writes]

thanks @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 for the tags 💖

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

This chaotic passage from (Un)professional Services, the Tarlos professional services AU I wrote with @welcometololaland (really this entire scene, but this passage demonstrates the vibe well - I don’t think of myself as a funny writer, so I’m proud of this scene!):

TK is surprised that Carlos hasn’t simply walked away from this chaos – and from him – at this point.

“I’m taking Carlos to my room,” he announces, taking Carlos’ hand. “C’mon, this way.”

“Do you still have an open door policy for TK?” he can hear his dad ask his mom behind them.

“No, Owen, TK is almost 30 so I don’t make him leave his door open if he has someone in there. Sweetie, there’s a whole box of those condoms from the office in—”

TK stops. “Oh my god! I’m not having sex with Carlos!”

Everyone looks at him in shock.

“Right now,” he amends.

I don’t write much angst, but I broke my heart writing baby TK in Precious Love (actually, I broke my heart writing most of this fic)

“You and I will still live here. But your dad won’t.”

TK doesn’t understand. Why doesn’t Dad want to live with him anymore? Is it because he leaves his Lego on the floor?

“Dad?” TK blinks. His eyes feel hot and itchy and his heart is beating really fast.

“I’m sorry, TK. Your mom is right. It’s better for us if I don’t live here anymore, but I promise that I still love you. It’s just going to be better this way.”

“But I want you to live here. With us! I promise I’ll be quiet when you sleep and won’t wake you up. And I promise to pick up my Lego. And I won’t leave my shoes in the doorway. And—” TK sniffs and rubs at his eyes with the back of his fist.

“Tyler, honey, it’s not anything you’ve done,” his mom says. Her voice sounds wobbly.

“Mommy, tell him not to go!” he cries.

From despite it all:

TK only breaks the kiss when his lungs are aching for air, resting their foreheads together. He peppers gentle kisses across Carlos’ jaw and down his neck, following a familiar path, using each kiss to write his love into his boyfriend’s skin, as if doing so will etch it there permanently, indelibly; a tattoo to match the mark Carlos has left on TK’s entire state of existence. Carlos cups his cheek as he looks up at him and the sheer fondness of his gaze has TK’s heart twisting in his chest as he stares back up at Carlos and wonders if he can’t just stay on his knees forever. 

also this first kiss from yours for the afternoon:

The first press of their lips together is gentle, almost chaste, but Alex slips his other hand around Henry’s back pulling him closer and Henry finds the soft dip of Alex’s waist inside his open coat, and when they kiss again, Alex parts his lips for him. He tastes sweet from the dessert but there’s something more, something unique to Alex that Henry wants to chase. He deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers in the curls at the base of Alex’s neck, losing himself in the slide of their tongues together and the press of Alex’s teeth as he tugs on Henry’s lower lip. When Henry pulls Alex closer so that there’s no space between them, kissing him thoroughly, as if there’s nothing more he needs in that moment than Alex and the feel of his mouth against his own, Alex makes a noise in the back of his throat that Henry swallows greedily. They part, breathless; minutes or hours later, Henry doesn’t know and frankly, he doesn’t care, all he can think about is the fact that he wants to do that again and never stop. 

He rests his forehead against Alex’s. “Hi,” he says on an exhale.

I’m so so proud of to the victor, the spoils (and its prequel). I can’t share my favourite passages from those fics without spoiling them, so I’ll give you this exchange with my beloved Bri instead:

Brianna has a coffee waiting for him when he arrives. “You’re a gem, Bri, what would I do without you?”

“Flounder aimlessly for a bit and then die a slow, uncaffeinated death probably.”

“That’s dark,” he says, taking a long sip of his coffee. 

“So, did you get the win?” she asks, looking over Alex with a quizzical expression on her face. 

“Of course I fucking did, Fox should have listened to me and withdrawn his application. I don’t know why he insisted on running it, he’s infuriating. The entire application was a waste of time.”

“Mmhmm,” Bri cocks her head and raises an eyebrow at him. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the tie you were wearing this morning, Alex. Looks kind of boring to me,” Bri smirks at him and walks out of his office. 

Alex looks down. Fuck. He’s been wearing Henry’s tie. 

(iykyk)

This is one of the first times I read my own writing and thought, “I really love this”, from it’s just for snow:

When David stops talking, his voice is scratchy; he feels flayed from the inside out. He’s never bared so much of himself to anyone before, not like this. He prefers to only let people see the broadest brushes of himself, to keep them at a distance that won’t allow them to see the individual brushstrokes that make up David Rose. He doesn’t know why, but talking to Patrick in the dark, from the safety of his cocoon of blankets – it feels safe – Patrick feels safe. 

I’m also very proud of my The Grindr Toolbox: A Guide to Getting Nailed series, which features a fic from each of my fandoms, written for the same prompt.

Tagging some pals to share what they’re proud of too: @welcometololaland @kiwiana-writes @indestructibleheart @stereopticons @indomitable-love @strandnreyes @everwitch-magiks + an open tag for anyone else who wants to share 💖

#fic pride friday #rmd writes #rmd writes: ls #rmd writes: rwrb #rmd writes: sc

[beneathashadytree]

Hello ! How do you feel now? I hope you're better now, I love all your yuumori fic so much,they're so comforting and pretty in characters!❤️

May I request some fic about clingy Albert James Moriarty x reader please?But take your time to write that and rest properly,I will wait🤗

By the way congrats for 2k,sweetie💕

CLINGY - ALBERT MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : none I think, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff <3

Word count : 0.8K words (oops)

Additional notes : Hi there!! I’m feeling much better now, thank you. I’m so glad that you enjoy my fics, because I love writing them so much! Sorry for taking so long to get to this; I had to finish my event requests first. Hope you like this one!💗

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“How about now?”

“No.”

“Please?” Albert dragged out the word, his emerald eyes begging them with all the charm he possessed.

Sighing, they set down the knife on the counter, and turned to face him. “If I went to cuddle you right now, we’d starve. No one’s home to cook us anything, and lord knows what’d happen if I let you in the kitchen.”

“Louis came back a few minutes ago,” he pointed out, his expression pleading once more. “We can leave it all to him and go upstairs.”

With a roll of their eyes (though they both knew they actually felt no annoyance whatsoever), they hummed and began to wash their hands in the sink. Already grinning mischievously at them as he knew he’d gotten his way, Albert dragged them away as soon as they’d dried their hands on the small cloth beside them.

***

“Happy now?” they asked, despite their grumbling holding no malice and their eyes full of only fond exasperation.

The man currently in their arms nodded, a satisfied quirk to his lips as he nuzzled deeper into their chest. Their nails scratched at his scalp in the way he so liked, and their other hand busied itself with rubbing soothing circles on his back, inching lower and delighting in the sight of him visibly shivering with satisfaction.

Sheer exhaustion was evident on his face, and the bags under his eyes told them that he’d probably been incredibly busy the few days he’d been away doing God knows what. The least they could do when he looked like that was embrace him and hold him tight in their open arms, even if he was being more demanding than usual.

After all, indulging him also meant indulging in their own desire to have him close at all times. Giving in to their own urges, they tucked a soft strand of hair behind his ear, and pressed a soft, barely-there kiss on his forehead. It was impossible; holding back their own affections when he was right there, his weight comforting ontop of them.

Albert clung impossibly tighter to their shirt, as though the closer proximity would somehow fuse them together. A hand crept under their clothes, splaying across their waist in a manner that was so intimate, and yet so chaste. Deft fingers climbed up their spine and left a tingling trail on their skin, and it suddenly felt like all was right in the world.

“What’s going on with you today?” they chuckled, sifting through his soft locks. “I haven’t seen you this clingy since… forever, I suppose.”

Without uttering another word, their lover simply kissed the exposed skin of their chest that he could reach, eyes closed in bliss, so it seemed. It only made the warm feeling in their chest swell to twice its size and threaten to burst through their ribs.

“Fine, don’t answer, you big baby.” They shook their head, and watched as Albert burrowed even further into their warmth, his eyelashes fluttering and his fingers gently squeezing their hips, as though reminding them that he was enjoying every bit of his childish charade.

In all honesty, they liked it all the more, seeing how he reveled in the feeling. Perhaps he was acting a bit spoilt, but he deserved it; what with all the time he was forced to spend away from them. And besides, they had always been the clingy one, so a switch in places was a rather welcome change. They were more than willing to return the favor of being loved so hard it healed all the wounds they never even knew they had.

When he finally spoke up, it was nothing more than mumbling against their shirt, “Do you have anything scheduled for the rest of the day?”

Thinking for a few seconds, they came to the conclusion that they had nothing left to do. “Not really. I finished everything I wanted to get done early in the morning. Moran’s snoring woke me up from the end of the damn hall.”

He breathed out a short laugh, before he stilled once more, hands all over them in the best way possible. Their bodies so entwined they couldn’t tell where they started and ended, it felt like falling deeper in love with nothing to stop them or hold them back—especially when every sound he made brought forth even more adoration from their depths.

“I’ll fall asleep like this,” he huffed out, his words coming out slower than usual.

“You can take a nap, just for a little while. It’s alright, you know.” Patting the back of his head tenderly, they offered their body up for a pillow.

“Just for a little while…” Albert muttered, already drifting off into a dreamland, where none of his usual worries could follow him, and where his darling was ever-present.

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @whitecelluyu @wifeofkyojuro

#imagine #oneshot #anime #fluff #domestic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp #ynm #yuumori #albert moriarty #albert moriarty x reader #albert moriarty oneshot #albert moriarty fluff #ynm albert #ynm albert moriarty #yuumori albert #yuumori albert moriarty #albert x reader #albert oneshot #albert fluff #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader

[echo-goes-mmm]

Divine Intervention AU #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: rape mention

This wasn’t the first time Ambrose wanted to tear his hair out and scream “why are you like this?” to humans, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Seriously, what the fuck? Ambrose had spats with other gods, sure. And sometimes they got bloody. But gods don’t die. 

Humans killed each other all the time and worse! He thought it would be the other way around honestly. A god could recover from literally anything, so who cared? Humans were fragile and knew it, you’d think they wouldn’t kill each other out of solidarity.

Ambrose couldn’t imagine going without one of his kin. There were so few of them; all precious in his heart (even when one was being an ass). 

Not to imply he didn’t like mortals. Hannah was great! Ambrose was fond of all his priests, and most worshippers. Children were sweet little gremlins and he loved spoiling them. Maybe he granted too many wishes, but he couldn’t say no if a little kid wanted a little luck on their math exam. Or if a child wanted a bully to get in trouble. 

Or if a mortal wanted to be his pet, apparently.

Some of his kin had human lovers. Ambrose could see the appeal, but every time one of them died, or refused immortality, he could see the grief etched into their faces. He’d much rather mess around with his fellow gods than lose a loved one forever. 

He didn’t have much of a choice, now. What would happen to Elliot if he refused him? He’d go right back into slavery, tortured, probably raped based on how lewdly they dressed him, and eventually die in pain. 

Ambrose could deal with the heartbreak if it meant the poor thing was safe. He vanished them out of the temple and into the divine realm. Elliot stumbled when they landed. Ambrose grasped his arm to keep him from falling.

___________________

“Sorry about that, love. It takes some getting used to.” Elliot’s vision swam and he stumbled, but Master caught him. After a moment, his head settled enough to take a look around.

The temple was gone. The weather had changed from cloudy to a perfectly warm sunny day, and they stood in the prettiest courtyard Elliot had ever seen. There were so many flowers and hedges, butterflies, statues of animals, and fountains.

But the best part was a koi pond in the center, full of shimmering fish in reds, oranges, and white. 

Ambrose led him to one of the doorways surrounding the courtyard. He pushed the velvet curtain aside, revealing an equally beautiful bedroom.

“The other doorways lead to other gods’ rooms,” explained Ambrose. “I’d rather you didn’t go in without being invited. They won’t hurt you, but they won’t be happy with it.”

“I understand, Master.” Elliot wasn’t a worshiper. He’d never been to a temple before today, and no one bothered explaining the gods to him. He wasn’t even sure what Ambrose was a god of. What were the other gods like? Elliot wasn’t keen on finding out.

Ambrose opened a door that apparently went to some kind of walk-in closet. He beckoned him in. 

“I’ll move some of this over for you, so you can have your own shelves. What would you like to wear? I can conjure more things for myself, so pick out what you’d like for today. I’m not going to parade you around practically naked.”

Elliot didn’t like the silks either. They were sheer, and didn’t even wrap all the way around his hips. He considered the clothes in front of him. There was a nice, plain cotton skirt in cream he liked. And a soft long-sleeved green shirt. They fit perfectly, despite how much bigger Ambrose was to him. They were probably magic. The shirt brushed against his freshly pierced ears and he winced.

“Master… May I take off the earrings?”

“Of course, pet. Don’t wear anything you don't want to.” Ambrose helped him take them off. “And you can wear anything you like. I’ll get it for you if I don’t already have it.”

There was something Elliot wanted. But he held his tongue. A collar was for wanted pets, and Ambrose hadn’t wanted him. Master was angry that he was stuck with Elliot, so unfortunately a nice collar was out of the question. He just hoped the other gods wouldn’t take it as a sign he was up for grabs.

Ambrose let him wash the makeup off his face. Even the bathroom was amazing. Hot water on demand and a huge tub that could fit five. 

Master had work to do, and disappeared behind another doorway draped with fabric with instructions to call if Elliot needed him.

He decided to watch the fish in the pond while he waited for Ambrose. Maybe he could earn a collar if he was good. He’d be the perfect pet for his Master.

“Well hello,” said a voice behind him. “Who are you?”

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle

#ive tweaked a few personality traits for Ambrose and Elliot #to make things a little smoother #my writing #ambrose and elliot #divine intervention au #whump #slavery whump #pet caretaking

[justtellher]

give me peace (in a lifetime of war)

Pops up onto your feed and tosses out a Good Omens fic that just wouldn't leave me alone about the aftermath of that S2 ending. Will be looking to update weekly as much as possible, and I promise you this has a happy ending. You can read below or over here on Ao3. And please come cry, squeal, and flail with me until Season 3 comes out.

---

Prologue: what never belonged to angels (never belonged to men) 

It starts again as it will end, with a garden.  Not the Garden this time–just a perfectly ordinary garden, only really worthy of mention because of its location or the events about to take place within it.  Fate, it seemed, had a rather fond attachment to locating major and pivotal plotlines within architected greenspace.  They felt it added a certain gravitas to their events. 

Tonight, a man stands nervously at the edge of one such space, tan fingers twisting the edge of a dusty robe between them, and draws a shaky breath.  

He could do this.  He could do this to keep him safe.  It was the right thing to do was it not?

Movement across the garden catches his eye, and he traces the fine features of his friend as he comes into view near the pergola, a circle of followers surrounding him filled with easy smiles and gentle laughter as they meet. 

Yet one of them will betray him, one of them will send him to his end for the good of them all, and he cannot stand by and let that happen.  

Not when it will mean never seeing him again, not when his friend so desperately wants to live and yet resigns himself to this fate.  A martyr of his own happiness for the saving of everyone.  

He forces his steps through the garden path, skidding slightly on the loose pebbles and soft dirt.  Identify him, they said, simply a signal of acknowledgement and they could whisk him away to safety.  No more heavenly obligations or marks of death.  

The world may damn him for it, but he’s willing to burn if it means making him smile again.  For seeing him light and carefree and alive instead of a stone pious effigy.  

He meets familiar sandals on the path before him and pauses, looking up into the warmth of his friend’s gaze.  Around him the others chatter and laugh, unaware of the slippage of time that allowed him to so quickly arrive here at this moment, this pivot that will redefine everything.  

Soft lips smile at him as they have always done.  Before he can lose his nerve he leans close and turns his head in a greeting they only ever acted out privately before, a benediction he now makes public, and presses his lips to a high boned cheek.  

“Peace be with you,” he murmurs, and feels a small intake of breath from the man next to him.  He wishes he knew how to interpret the sound.  He pulls back to meet the dark brown eyes he’s lost himself to time and time again, but finds he can’t determine what to make of the swirl of emotions he sees in them.  

Has he saved them or condemned them?

Tomorrow, he will know this moment for its loss.  For they will call him traitor and years from now will write him into a villain’s story for 30 pieces of silver that he will find in his lodgings.  A bargain he never agreed to make, yet cannot disprove, leading to a hangman’s noose he will knot himself gladly. His name an epitaph for betrayal forever more.

Today, he will know it as love and a prayer that he can change the fate of a god. 

—

Chapter 1: though i know my heart would break (put me back in it)

At first, he plans to drive off and sleep for a good century or two: ignore the world until he finds a way of dealing with the ache that’s growing between his ribs, the tightness filling his chest that’s making him feel like any second he’ll discorporate from the sheer agony of it all. 

Until he figures out how to exist without him. 

Foolish really, a small voice chides him, and not likely since you haven’t figured it out in the last 6000 years or more.   Crowley misses the turn to his flat, but the Bentley makes no move to course correct, and instead he keeps on driving.  There’s no point to being in London anyway, really.  Not if Aziraphale isn’t there.  

The road unfolds before him and the Bentley guides them out of London, across the M25, and north.  At some point the radio switches back on and soft classical violin swells through the car; he doesn’t have the heart to turn it off.  Afterall, she seems to miss him too.  

His face feels wet and his eyes are puffy, and he rubs furiously at both as the late afternoon sky gives way to dim evening light and a familiar town begins to take shape around him.

“No, no, NO.  Absolutely not,” he mutters firmly, pulling the steering wheel so that the car is forced to a stop next along the Holyrood park roadside.  “Bloody sentimental machine.”  

He swings himself out of the Bentley with a sigh and looks around aimlessly, the crisp Edinburgh air filling his senses and reminding him with sharp pang of the top hats, graveyards, and the too- much-laudanum spins of the last time he was in this area of the world. 

Grumbling, he throws himself into walking briskly up the hill for want of any other option–willing the mild ache in his thighs as he climbs to distract him, burn soft lips and words of forgiveness from his memory.  

He reaches the summit just as the first stars are beginning to show across the darkening sky and drops his body heavily onto some of the flat stones that comprise Arthur’s Seat.  An irony he muses, since Arthur very much never made it here–too busy sowing good deeds in the damp wilds of Wessex to bother much with the Scots.

Is that you under there Crawly?

Nothing lasts forever. 

His eyes burn again, and he blinks toward the heavens, trying to lose himself amongst the stars that pepper the black blue sky. Stupid angel, how could he not see the pointlessness of the Metatron’s offer, the futile effort of trying to change heaven?  His throat burns and he swallows against the lump rising in it. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? He doesn’t know how much of this he can take honestly.  

“Aaah,”  a shrill shout cuts through the night somewhere over his left shoulder, and Crowley whips around, momentarily considering that perhaps Aziraphale might have been right about the spookiness of places, when he makes out the distinct shape of a woman sliding in the slightly muddy hillside near the summit. 

“Blast it, why is this stuff so slippery?” The petite figure pushes herself back upright with a small huff and wipes her hands against the khaki of her trench coat before her eyes fix on Crowley’s with a start, 

“Oh hello, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else would be up here at this time.”  She hefts a small rucksack against her back with a shrug, and he notices the tripod telescope jutting from the top zipper.  “I’m something of an amateur astronomer, you see.  It’s supposed to be a great night for viewing Orion.”

Did you go to Alpha Centauri?

Nah…I lost my best friend.

Nope, none of that.  On impulse, he waves a hand behind him and steps aside to reveal his own telescope, miracled (and thankfully undamaged by Shax) from his flat with only a small wobble at the intrusion.  Well what else did he have to do now?  And for Someone’s sake he needed the distraction.  

“Wouldn’t you know? Same could be said of me.”  He offers what he hopes is a friendly smile.  The woman’s eyes search his face, lingering on his dark glasses, before she gives a returning grin.  

“Oh wonderful, it would be so nice to have a partner.” 

He nearly lets out an unexpected sob at the wording and tamps it back down, easing himself back onto the rocks with a strangled sigh as the woman sets up her things and settles down next to him.   He busies himself with focusing the scope on finding the nebula he knows is hiding in Orion’s sword.  

They sit side by side silently for a while, gentle clicks of telescopes adjusting and focusing, and Crowley loses himself slightly in the method of it.  He hasn’t looked at the stars in ages–didn’t realize how much he’d missed it.  

“They really are spectacular, you know?” Her soft voice pulls him back from his eyepiece to find the woman leaning back on her hands, head tilted up to take in the vibrant Milky Way band that has appeared.

“Yeah,” he agrees, mirroring her pose.  Curiosity seeps into him and he can’t control the impulse to ask,  “Do you have a favorite?”

She pauses, lips twisting to the side in thought before smiling, “The Carina Nebula.”

It’s easy to grin back at her, pride temporarily easing the ache beneath his chest, “Ah an excellent one if I do say so myself.”  He tilts his head back toward the sky, eyes seeking out the rough patch of stars where he feels it live, a trait of his that never quite burned away.  “Bit hard to find that one though without something like the Hubble looking.”

Her laugh sounds like a bell in the empty hillside, “I know!  You’d think whoever made this place might have had better sense to put it a bit more in the middle of the show.  It’s infuriating! You can’t even see most of the universe from here.” 

“Yes! Exactly what I’ve been saying!”  He stares at her in amazement, feels his face hurt slightly from the force of his smile. 

She gives him an impish grin that scrunches her nose before her eyes shift downward with a melancholic sigh. 

“You know, until recently I barely looked at the stars,”  she pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on the delicate hands placed upon her kneecaps.  “I only thought of them as background decoration really.”  A sigh. “I’ve been doing that everywhere in my life it seems, not looking, not listening.  Too wrapped up in my own plans and successes to actually stop and pay attention to how any of it was going.”

“Ah,” he struggles to find words to assist this shift in tone.  Neither of them had ever been great at human emotion, but Aziraphale had definitely been better at comfort.  “I’m sorry,” he stutters, half a statement, half a question.  

She waves a hand at him with a kind dismissive gesture. “Oh no, it’s okay.  I’m trying to own it.”  She raises her eyes again to lights twinkling above them,  “Took a setback you might say to make me stop and look around, but I am…trying now. For whatever good it might do.”

“Well I’m certainly no expert on trying,” he gives a sardonic chuckle, “seems like all I do is try and fail.” He raises his hand to count off his fingers, “Tried to change things with a few questions, got fired.  Spent a few years going my own way trying to do good where I can, ended up homeless and almost killed.  Tried to tell my partner how I feel, and instead here I am alone on a Scottish hillside.”

A hand reaches out to pat his shoulder before pulling back, “Better to have tried and failed than to ignore it all, or so I’m learning. It’s so much easier to see the path you’ve built when you at least look up every so often and take an active part with those shaping it,” she gives a heavy sigh, “before you wake up and don’t even know how you got to where you are.”

She trails off, turning her face back up to the sky and for a few minutes they sit in a morose silence.  Crowley traces the curve of the Big Dipper, recites the older names for the constellation that have been lost to time in his mind, and tries to imagine ever feeling satisfied with having tried. Wishes instead maybe he’d just ignored everything from the beginning.

Sure as hell would hurt less than this. 

“Your partner, you think he’ll come around?” her voice quietly snaps him back to Earth. The dim starlight catches with a shimmer on her short blonde hair, and his unhelpful mind supplies a barrage of comparisons to the softer, paler curls he’s actively trying not to think about missing.

“I…” he hangs his head, clears his throat thickly.  He wants to say it’s over, that the angel made his choice, and there is no coming back. That there is no us.  After all, it’s never felt so final before.  But hope flickers silently in his chest, a timid sensation that he can never quite get to die when it comes to Aziraphale, 6000 years of stubborn push and pull between them that has always somehow circled around to being just enough outside of either side to be their own.

He sighs, and looks back up to find warm, brown eyes fixed on him, “...I dunno, actually”

She shoots him a half smile, “You have faith still then” 

“Ha,” he chuckles wryly, and she’s right he does; an existence full of doubts and yet he never could quite shake the habit of belief from his veins, “what d'ya know, I guess I do.”  

A sad look flickers across her features even as she smiles fully, gone in a moment as she glances down at her watch and gives a small gasp, 

“Oh my, I seem to have lost track of myself and am now terribly late it would seem.  Funny thing, time.” She mutters the last part to herself mostly as she gathers her things together and makes to stand.  

He nods along politely, feeling slightly bereft at the prospect of being alone with his own thoughts once again.  She was warm in a motherly way he didn’t know he missed.  Which strikes him as a silly thought really seeing as how demons didn��t have mothers.  Well technically, they didn’t have mothers who acknowledged them.

All the same though wasn’t it?

Shaking himself mentally, Crowley makes to stand alongside her smaller frame, handing over her telescope as he goes.  She sends him a small smile of thanks before continuing, “It really was lovely to run into you here…er…” 

“Ah, Anthony,” he fills in for her, “Anthony Crowley.”

There it is again, the flash of sadness in her features that he can’t place.  Maybe she’d lost someone with his name.  Humans were always losing someone and rediscovering their grief in strange places he’d noticed.

“Anthony,” she repeats his name with a warm roll of vowels that erases the lines of sorrow from her features, “that’s a lovely name.” 

“Thanks…um…” 

“Edith,” she supplies with a grin and an extension of her hand, “you can call me Edith.”  

He returns her smile with a crooked one of his own, “Well, thank you Edith.”  

Grasping her warm hand in his, he can’t resist the impish urge to give an exaggerated shake and earns himself a laugh from his compatriot before she pulls her hand from his.  Still grinning, she hoists the rucksack back onto her shoulder and begins to head back down the small slope, before turning back around with a small clang of jostled instruments, 

“Oh, and Anthony?”  He whips his gaze up from the ground he’d worrying with the heel of his boot, 

“Hmm?” He opts for nonchalance, instead of the desperate eagerness he feels at being granted even a minute more reprieve from being left alone with the mess of thoughts he feels bubbling just beneath the surface of his consciousness. 

She holds his gaze firmly, “I hope they prove worthy of it.  Your faith.”

The lump returns to his throat and his eyes burn behind the dark frames of his glasses; he nods slowly, and she gives him one last small smile before returning to her steady descent and moving out of sight.  

He stands unmoving in the resulting silence, before realizing he’s actually dropped quietly to the ground as he takes note of the grassy rock that’s suddenly beneath his fingertips.  His vision blurs beyond discerning, and he feels the first few traitorous tears roll down his cheeks as he loses the battle against the hollow knot in his chest.  

“Me too,” he whispers, a soft prayer into the night air.

And then for the first time that day he gives in and allows himself to truly cry. 

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable divorce #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands fanfiction #good omens fic #aziracrow fic #ineffable husbands fanfic #good omens s2 #go2 #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #ineffable spouses #aziraphale #crowley #binged watched s2 drowned in feels for 2 months and then emerged with this #these two i swear #these two are so bad at talking #but I swear they're gonna learn to #danielle takes a liberal license with biblical characters and timelines #angst with a happy ending #they love each other #south downs cottage #i'm already there #we deserve a soft epilogue #i've emerged from my writing hiatus to write about these two idiots #and hold myself over until season 3 #justtellher #justtellher fanfiction

[wildbornsiren]

Playing House || Miles Miller/F!Reader

Playing House Summary: A moment together with Miles.  518 words Female/AFAB reader (established relationship) Warning: canon non-compliance.  Notes:  For @hederasgarden​ who asked for “playing house with Miles” for my reverse birthday event. Comments and reblogs fuel the muses. Likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s so appreciated and means the most.  *** Tag list is no more. Please follow @wbslibrary​ ***

You watch the clock, anxious as the minutes tick by. The room was tidy, bed made with fresh sheets, the curtains drawn, lights off except for the ones on the bedside tables, Candles were placed in the middle of the wobbly table, along with a warm dinner. You had changed from your work uniform into a dress, stockings, the seams perfectly aligned along the back of your legs. You wander over to the small bookcase, pulling a record from the collection you’ve built, placing it on the record player, dropping the needle.

Jazz filled the quiet, and you closed your eyes, swaying along with the melody, caught up in a daydream of a smokey bar, and a dark-haired mysterious stranger who sent you a cocktail. You hum along with the tune, startling gently when arms wrap around you from behind. You’re pulled against a solid chest, Miles’ arms tight around your midsection. A gentle kiss lands on the curve of your neck, and you sigh softly, leaning into him. “Welcome home,” you say, hands sliding over his. You smile when his fingers entwine with yours, and you bring your joined hands to your mouth, kissing scarred knuckles. “Hello darling,” his lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice low and gentle. “Did the rest of your shift go well?” He hums softly in response, pulling away only to spin you in time with the song. Miles pulls you close, one hand at the small of your back, the other keeping a light grip on your hand. He smells like coffee and the honey candy he was so fond of. He brushes a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We have guests in Nevada. A nice couple on a weekend getaway, and a young man traveling by himself.” He spins you again, and you crash into his chest, a giggle bubbling up. “Dinner is going to get cold darling,” you kiss his cheek delighted at the slight blush that blooms on his face. He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the simple gold band on your finger. “Just a minute longer.” He looks at you, and the sheer adoration in his eyes makes your breath hitch. “I’ve spent so long yearning for someone like you, something I thought I’d never have.” “Miles, you deserve the world.” You say softly. This sweet, gentle man looked at you as if you had hung the sun in the sky, held you with such tenderness you swore you would break if he let you go. “I love you so much, I love us, our home.” Keeping a hold on his hand, you lead him over to the table. “I will spend the rest of our days together proving that to you.” You tap his shoulder, and he sinks into the chair. You sit opposite him, placing your hand in his when he offers it. He bows his head, lips moving silently as he prays over the meal. It’s simple food, a simple room, and as you gaze at him from across the table, your heart aches for this moment to last forever. /end

#Miles Miller/reader #Miles Miller/you #shelly writes #bad times at the el royale #Miles Miller x reader #Miles Miller x you #shelly's reverse birthday #shelly loves Ivy

[angelicgaming1007]

Octavia raphaels fairy "ex" (I say ex because its complicated technically she is technically she isn't) ANOTHER HEAD CANON

Pre Act 1

Octavia was a warlock, of course since shes a fairy she could only have the archfey as her patron.

She met Raphael during one of the times he got injured battling in Avernus when she was visiting out of sheer curiosity. She took him back to the feywilds to take care of him.

The 2nd time she met him was by accidentally summoning him when trying to summon a familiar. Raphael was annoyed but amused and decided to strike a deal with her.

When asked what she wants Octavia said a friend, Raphael gave the terms of being friends aswell because he "owed her" for saving his life before. But Octavia had to visit him atleast yearly.

They eventually became actual friends and Raphael came to enjoy her presence, she wasn't destructive or chaotic, she was polite every time but also affectionate. She was smart and calculating too so she was able to help him with battle plans.

Raphael and Octavia slowly fell for eachother. They even got married in a non traditional unofficial way. Raphael always said when Octavia dies her soul is his and they will be together for eternity.

She is Raphael's favourite

her contract with him is kept in a secret room in the house of hope only Raphael has ever been in and ever will be in. The only other person who knows of it is Haarlep and thats because Haarlep is supposed to keep an eye on it and keep people out of it when Raphael is out.

Raphael always referred to her as his Butterfly because of her fae nature and his little mouse for how sneaky and quiet she could be. Act 1

Octavia left to blend in with mindflayer survivors to investigate for raphael some matters, despite him telling her not to but she ended up captured and one of them.

Octavia finds the others interesting at first and prefers observing them. Slowly she comes to enjoy their company somewhat and finds herself in the odd position as leader.

Raphael keeps an eye on the group more to keep an eye on Octavia than anything. Hes furious by her disobeying him and getting herself into such a mess. But hes also worried for his fairy.

He feels disgusted when he sees the other proposition his fairy for intimacy, a tinge of jealousy in his gut when he sees Octavia consider Astarion.

When they meet again he recites her favorite poetry, his taunting is meant for her companions especially Astarion. But theres mocking anger in his eyes, he looks furious with her thinly veiled and she knows shes in trouble when its all over. He wants to drag her off back to the house of hope but he knows she needs to go on this journey. Because while he could remove her tadpole he knows she already made bonds with her companions and seen them as friends and he was not going to deny her that.

When the tiefling party happens Octavia ends up having a moment of weakness seduced by Astarion. Raphael burns with anger that he has to contain. He wants to run the vampire through with his own daggers and to yell at Octavia, despite the fact he sleeps with haarlep himself. But still all he does is observe.

Act 2

Raphael reluctantly grows to accept Octavia's fondness for the vampire, his heart aches seeing her fall in love with another person thats not him he thinks shes a fool for it. But he grants her it, seeing it as just something temporary and fun for her. Knowing as soon as she dies she'll be his again, forever and next time she won't be leaving.

When he finally sees her again he internally seethes at her helping Astarion but he holds himself back and offers a deal seeing it as a chance to get something he needs, done. and to remind Octavia where shes going in the end, that just like that demon she will return to his side. A subtle threat and reminder that hes allowing her to be with Astarion and her friends, disguised as one of his regular deals.

Octavia feels awkward about it all and feels horrible. She is in love with both men.

Act 3

Octavia gets a letter from Raphael demanding she comes see him in Sharess Caress. She hides it from her companions and leads them to Raphael

Raphael annoyed with her actions, having wanted to see her alone has to put up an act and come up with a deal on the spot, coming up with the grand deal he did just to try to make her give up and come home with an impossible task.

Hes shocked when she accepts the deal, almost angry at her. But he knows if she fails either dying or just fails to fulfill the deal he can take her home.

She pretends shes gathering more information and tells the others to head off to get see about Gale's book and she'd catch up.

When they are alone she and Raphael finally talk, she explains that she didn't mean to fall for Astarion that she loves them both. Raphael soothes her, admitting to his initial "displeasure" but that in the end it doesn't matter because she will one day come home and he'll be waiting and until then he'd always be near, watching, waiting, there for her when she wishes to come back.

She takes comfort in Raphael's arms as he asks to remove her tadpole, she won't let him since it gives her an advantage. But Raphael is scared of her turning into an illithid but he won't admit it. So he just vows to watch her more closely and if she starts to turn into an illithid he'll get rid of the tadpole regardless if she likes it or not.

When she becomes Astarion's spawn Raphael's heart aches. But he knows he'll still claim her soul back one day, he just has to wait. Theres many monster hunters out there one day hers and Astarion's luck will run out.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 raphael

[deltaruminations]

you have to understand. i actively prefer a middle aged man. in most circumstances i would not look at a character commonly read as an older man and say “no i think he’s young actually.” but the possibilities of a Young Gaster in particular are far too compelling to ignore i think. old gaster is sad but young gaster is fucking tragic. Young Gaster is like. this guy who never had a real youth, who grew up too quickly, a young man stuck trying to fill a suit that’s too big for him, who’s doing his best to play grown-up but is fundamentally unsuited to it. he does typical idiot young person stuff like Fall In Love and Challenge Authority and Try To Forge His Own Path, normal growing-up things that should come with normal risks and rewards, growing pains, but gaster by virtue of circumstance or sheer ambition or both simply can’t experience any of this in a normal, relatively safe way, and it all goes so dramatically ass-backward that it fucking ruins him. just as he stands at the font of his own future he sees all his hopes and dreams wash away before his eyes, vanishing along with his dearest friend, and it’s so traumatic that it leaves him frozen in time, and the only future he has left is to live in his past, working desperately to fix it. his life was “cut short” in a coming of age story gone cataclysmically wrong, leaving him immortalized in a limbo between stages — not quite an adolescent, not quite an adult — which becomes all too literal when he lands himself in a universe where time is barely real, a universe that is itself frozen in grief, a universe full of cruel reminders of everything he lost, people who look like the people he knew but who aren’t the same, a universe that traps him in his regrets and will never let him move on, a universe where he can’t even age, and it drives him so mad that he literally becomes immortal just to escape it. he’s the embodiment of a very particular nightmare: having to be a freshly-minted adult forever, a young man in a box with a Geiger counter and two flasks — one makes him larger, and one makes him small — who eludes observation, his reality never resolving either way, stuck as ever in a place between. he speaks like a man, presents himself as a man, he has a doctorate and a stacked resumé, he projects stoicism and self-control, is by technicality and necessity performing all the man-ness expected of him, but under the mask he’s still kind of just a boy. a boy, shy and insecure, worried about what other people think of him; playful, fond of puzzles and games; curious about others and desperate to connect with them, for them to like him. a boy unsure of who he’s supposed to be, how he’s supposed to fit into the world around him. a boy perhaps committed to a lost friend with all the sincerity and heartache of first love. a boy trapped where his heart would be, who rattles his ribs like prison bars and begs to see the light.

and he sees these kids, these “WONDERFUL” kids having their own comings-of-age, and it’s not just that he sympathizes with them in a kindly, paternal way — he relates to them. they’re his siblings, his classmates, they’re him, approaching the same point at which his life really ended, so close to making the mistakes that he did. he makes them a friend, a boy like them, like him, but a better him, someone more like that other boy his friend liked so much, one who’s sweeter and kinder and, most importantly, who knows what he couldn’t have known back then, and hopes they’ll have better outcomes than he did. at the chance to meet one of them in person, he hides meekly behind a tree, loitering in some special place, inviting them into an uneasy, naïve dance, and he offers them pure, unshattered potential — a future he can’t have, but they can, and asks them to take it in their hands. a big brother, not as cute or cuddly as asriel, but one who’s trying his hardest to be a grownup for them even though he can barely even be a grownup for himself. what i mean is young gaster may not be as hot as DILF gaster but i think he’s worth a place in your headcanon zone. thank

#$ waltz of a shattered man #anyway again can’t wait to feel really stupid once ch. 3-5 confirm that he’s like 200 years old and grandpa #i love Young Gaster he’s real to me. ok. #why infantilize papyrus when you can be a Young Gaster believer instead. just saying #wd gaster

[hautevaux]

@kintsugiscars asked: A young Miqo'te poked his head into Vaux's shop, a promissory note clasped in his nervous hands. The Scions sent him to this particular tailor in preparation for the banquet but he was still incredibly out of place. He was meant for low brow bars, not fancy galas! "Excuse me..." His tail quivered as it curled around his leg. "I'm looking for Mister Vaux?"

Booted feet slowly emerge from the archway leading to the back of the store, the sound of the chime above the door itself notifying the tailor of a visitor ere his voice blessed the space betwixt them.

He's initially quiet, a rather fond smile casting across features; there was something undeniably adorable about Miqo'te and their ears and tails, the sheer expression show between the movement of both forever transfixing and interesting Vaux.

"Come on in and make yourself comfortable, darling-" His voice, low and gentle, carries easily across the space of the flooring; lithe expanse of a delicate hand gesturing to his surroundings; " 'T would seem you have found me with ease; how can I be of help?"