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#when are we finding out who the father is
valeskafics · 2 days
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"Matter Of State" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
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a/n: combined two anon requests - one for atreides!reader dreaming of feyd and offering her hand to spare paul and one for free use with atreides!reader hehehehe 🩷
Summary: You meet the man of your dreams under less than ideal circumstances.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, feyd rautha's black cum oop, inkpie, breeding kink, cousin incest, oral f receiving, overstim, p in v sex, paul gets stabbed RIP but he lives!
Word Count: 2,500
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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All your life you’ve dreamed of him. You can’t remember a time when you didn’t know him, in whatever strange way this is. It always starts the same way. He stands in the desert, one arm extended toward you, his hand reaching out for you to take it. He pulls you into his embrace, staring down at you with those intense, dark eyes. His hands are rough as they caress your face, and yet? He’s tender. It’s as if he’s afraid you’ll break if he doesn’t handle you with enough care. You don’t know his name. You only know his voice. Every time you wake, the memory of his face fades from your mind, until you fall asleep once more.
The dreams only grow more intense during your time in the desert with the Fremen. Paul had similar dreams of Chani. The two of you confided in each other about these dreams growing up - it would seem that the Atreides twins had more in common than many realized. But while Paul now has Chani in his life, your mystery lover remains just out of reach. His voice is a low rasp as he murmurs how beautiful you are, as he makes love to you in your dreams, as he promises to keep you by his side forever and make you his queen.
Perhaps your dreams aren’t like Paul’s at all. Perhaps they truly are just that. Dreams. Maybe you saw this mystery man passing in the crowd back home on Caladan and your mind ran away with itself. But your mother, wise woman that she is, always smiles at you sagely and tells you that all will be revealed when the time is right. Ever since transmuting that damn poison and being able to chatter away with your unborn sister, the woman has become insufferable.
When you, Paul, and the others storm the castle at Arrakeen, intent on avenging your father’s death, you feel the world around you come to a standstill. As Paul buries his blade in the Baron - your grandfather’s neck, your gaze meets his. The man of your dreams. You recognize him at once, your lips parting in a silent gasp as he stares back at you. It’s as though a dam breaks in your mind and every memory of every dream comes flooding back to you. Every kiss, every touch, every sweet word.
You know who he is immediately. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. The nephew of the Baron. Your cousin. He is the man you have been dreaming of all this time, the man whose fate yours is entwined with. As Paul stalks over to the Emperor, Feyd makes his way to you, too close for comfort as he leans in to whisper in your ear, taking advantage of your brother’s distraction.
“We meet again.”
His voice is exactly as you remember it, that low, seductive rasp. You open your mouth to speak, but Paul notices that who he perceives to be the enemy has cornered you and is seemingly harassing you. Your brother grabs you by the hand and keeps you at his side, demanding that the Emperor bow to him. You continue staring at Feyd, unable to tear your eyes away from him. And he seems just as keen on ignoring the politics currently at play, finding his way to stand beside you yet again.
“Did you…” You trail off, your voice echoing in Feyd’s mind as you communicate without words, taking advantage of the skills having a Bene Gesserit for a mother has afforded you, “Have the dreams too?”
His lips curl up into a smile as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear as he whispers, “Yes.”
The tension between the two of you is palpable, even as he readies himself for battle with your brother. Your attention is only on him, unable to stop thinking of the dreams you have shared with this man, this enemy of your house. His eyes lock onto yours as he makes his way to the circle, his shoulder brushing against you as he moves.
Your brother and Feyd-Rautha are evenly matched. Skill, speed, strength. It is a battle for the ages. You glance over at Chani, who seems just as nervous as you are, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in the skin of your palm. Your heart pounds in your chest, so hard that you fear it may burst out of your body, watching with anxiety as your beloved brother fights the man who has haunted you for so long. Feyd is every bit a specter as he moves, his motions quick and graceful, his form long and lean. You gasp in horror as he manages to bury his blade in Paul’s shoulder.
Just as he is about to strike the killing blow, you speak, just loud enough for him to hear, “Stop.”
Feyd heeds your command, though he has little choice to do so, dropping Paul to the ground along with his knives and taking a step back, meeting your gaze, his head tilted to the side as if to ask why you have deprived him of the glory of his kill. You look between your brother, who lays bleeding and wounded on the floor, though thanks to you it is not mortal, and Feyd, who stands there staring at you. You turn to the Emperor, taking a deep breath, doing your best to hide the tremble in your voice.
“If… If I offer myself to Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… A willing bride in exchange for my brother’s life, will my lords accept?”
The Emperor looks surprised, as does your brother, but neither of them even has a chance to speak. Feyd is already stalking toward you, using the blunt edge of his blade to force you to look him in the eyes. He seems… Intrigued by the proposition.
“That was bold, little one,” he murmurs, staring down at you, “But how do you know I will spare him if I agree to your terms?”
He begins to circle you, as if appraising you, grinning to himself when you speak, “You may be cruel. But you are a man of honor. I know that if you give me your word, you will keep it.”
It surprises him, really, how well you know him despite only having met in your dreams. He lets out a hum of approval before nodding at the Emperor, indicating that he accepts your offer. The Emperor heaves a sigh and announces that the wedding is to take place in ten day’s time, that as Duke Leto’s heir, your brother will retain control of Arrakis while you and Feyd will take control of Giedi Prime.
The room begins to empty out, your brother being taken away to have his injuries cared for, Chani ever present at his side, your mother giving you a quick nod as she walks past. You absently wonder to yourself what Alia has had to say about the whole thing. Part of you doubts that she actually speaks to your mother, but you digress. Soon, it is only you and Feyd left, standing in front of each other. There is nowhere to hide from him, from his hungry gaze. All he can think is that soon, you will belong to him. When you glance at him, he is already staring, and you quickly look away. He chuckles to himself at your nervousness.
“Do you remember them?” You blurt out suddenly, “The dreams?”
He nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he speaks, “I do. Every single one is burned in my memory.”
“Me too,” you admit quietly.
The silence lingers for a moment before Feyd moves to stand in front of you, resting his finger under your chin, “Do you remember what we did in those dreams? The things I made you feel?”
“I,” you take a step back, stuttering slightly, “I’m not sure if it’s really appropriate for us to talk about that.”
Unwilling to let you get away so easily, he takes another step toward you, and another, until you are backed up against the wall, his forearm resting above your head, effectively caging you in. And yet? You don’t feel scared. You simply feel a warmth rising to your cheeks, a fluttering in your stomach as you meet his gaze once more.
“Why not? We did quite a bit in those dreams, didn’t we?” Feyd teases, moving his blade to stroke your hair, his breath warm against your face, “I remember everything. How your lips felt against mine. The way your body moved against mine. The way you tasted. It’s haunted me, tormented me for years now. And here you are, in front of me.” He moves his free hand to rest against your cheek, making your breath catch in your throat as he caresses your skin, fingers trailing down to your throat, “Just as soft as I remember.”
“Feyd…” You trail off, “I…”
Before you can finish speaking, his lips capture yours in an intense, passionate kiss, one that leaves those you’ve shared in your dreams so far behind. He’s hungry, wanting, desperate as he crushes you against him, his lips moving to your neck, biting down on your skin, his tongue soothing the tender, abused flesh moments later. Your arms wrap around him, losing yourself in his embrace, in his touch. And you wonder to yourself how in the world the Emperor expects the two of you to keep your hands off each other in the days leading up to your wedding.
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The wedding comes and passes with great pomp and ceremony. You and Feyd drink of each other’s blood and, as is the Harkonnen tradition, he hunts you down within the walls of Arrakeen. You find yourself wanting him to find you sooner than later, however, and make little effort to run from him, the two of you grinning at each other when he catches you, taking you then and there on the floor of the palace, vowing to fill you with his seed, vowing that it is not your brother who is the Chosen One, but the child you will bear him, as was always intended. Whether you agree or not doesn’t matter, because all you can think of is the pleasure he’s busy bestowing upon you as he fucks you over and over and over again.
Married life with Feyd is more than you ever could have hoped for. Your days on Giedi Prime are spent getting lost in each other. And this newlywed bliss is supported by all on your new home planet. After all, the more you couple with Feyd, the sooner the Kwisatz Haderach will be brought forth. He has no qualms walking into your meetings with the nobility of Giedi Prime and demanding everyone leave so that he can take you then and there. And you’re all the happier for it. Feyd can and will have you whenever and wherever he pleases. He is the Baron now, he holds all power over the planet. And you, his Baroness? His desire for you, his love for you renders him powerless only before you. You consume him - his thoughts, his desires, his very being.
When your mother and brother come to visit for the first time, accompanied by Chani and your newborn sister, Alia, you wonder if Feyd’s desires will continue to be so ravenous. His lust for you must be somewhat sated by this point - it’s been three months of this, after all. However, you have no such luck. In the middle of having tea with your mother and Chani, Paul off doing whatever it is that Paul does, Feyd barges into the room.
“Lady Jessica. Chani. I apologize but,” his eyes focus on you, “I require the Baroness for urgent matters of state.”
You furrow your brow, “Did something happen?”
Wordlessly, he walks toward you, heaving you over his shoulder, and stalks out of the room, making you yelp with surprise, quickly blurting out some excuse to your mother and Chani. Chani looks mildly horrified by the whole situation while your mother? Well, she seems rather pleased. After all, if Paul isn’t the Kwisatz Haderach, it will most certainly be your and Feyd’s child.
Feyd rather unceremoniously tosses you on the bed, crawling over you as he removes his clothes, smirking to himself as you protest, “You can’t just grab me like that! What the hell will my mother think of me, Feyd? That was embarrassing!”
Despite your words, he can feel the way your body reacts to him, the way he knows it better than you do, every brush of his fingertips against your sensitive skin making you shiver with desire. Feyd pushes your skirt aside, his lips immediately latching onto your core, already wet for him. He knew it. You wanted this just as bad as he did. You prop yourself up on your elbows, his gaze locked on yours, his lashes fluttering as he moans and mouths at your sensitive cunt, groaning at the taste of you, as if you’re the finest ambrosia and he grows drunk with every movement of his tongue. And when he’s made you peak, he shows no signs of stopping. Feyd’s mouth is sloppy against you, eager to taste you, devouring you completely.
“Feyd, no more,” you whine after he’s brought you to the edge for the third time, his hands grabbing at your thighs eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you again, “It’s too much…”
“Need more,” he rasps, burying his tongue inside you again, his head moving from side to side, fucking you deeper with his tongue than before, moaning against you, the sensation making your head fall back against your pillow as you let him continue.
Finally, Feyd decides that his cock is too hard for him to resist any longer and with one fluid movement, he pushes inside you, feeling you squeeze around him impossibly tight. Even with how many times you’ve taken him, every time feels like the first, he muses as he pounds into you, his hips pistoning at a near inhuman pace, your arms wrapped around him.
“Are you going to breed me again, my Baron?” You ask breathily, your eyes locked on his, “It’s your duty after all.”
He nods eagerly, his voice a low growl in his chest as he declares, “I am. Over and over and over. I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that it drips out of that pretty little cunt, stuff you full. My pretty little wife.”
And true to his word, he fills you yet again, holding you close to him as you come down from your respective highs.
And when you walk back into the room where you left your family, your mother merely gives you a knowing smirk when you state that you were busy dealing with state matters, while Chani pointedly eyes the black stain on your dress.
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luveline · 3 days
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May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹
Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing. 
She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner. 
“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?” 
“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” 
“Eighteen days is not three weeks.” 
“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.” 
“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?” 
“No, just soap.” 
“Well, that’s not much better.” 
Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop. 
“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon. 
“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork. 
“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.” 
“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.” 
He’s unintimidated. “Ah.” 
“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.” 
Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke. 
She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways. 
“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?” 
Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast. 
“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks. 
“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.” 
“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern. 
“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder. 
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks. 
God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room. 
“He likes that one,” Spencer says. 
“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.” 
“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.” 
“Is that why?” Spencer asks. 
“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”
“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.
“Scoundrel,” you agree. 
“How’s your head now?” 
“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink. 
He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath. 
Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore. 
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zealousllamawolf · 2 days
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Book Club (Alastor x Reader)
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Parings- Alastor X Reader
!!Minors DNI with this post. R-18+!!
Summary- Reader unknowingly drugs tea for themselves leaving them vulnerable in the presence of Alastor
Word count- 5.5k words
Tags- bloodletting, p in v, rough sex, masturbation, crush against Alastor, drugged slightly. First time Reader, bondage, SMUT SMUT SMUT.
~~~
   It’s been ages since you could curl up somewhere quiet with a book. You struggle just to find time to be alone with the constant chaos of the other residents at the hotel. So, when Charlie announced at breakfast that everyone was welcome to come to dinner with her father, Lucifer, at his manor you were excited to decline. 
  You had just been given a new book by Angel that seemed interesting and romantic. Romance books held a special place in your heart even when you were still alive. You could see yourself as the main character being loved by someone to the fullest and that was all you needed for the most part. You never had a lot of romantic experiences on earth and surely not in hell. You did not trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable in front of them. 
  Well, that is not entirely true. There was Alastor, but it is not like you could trust him, you had the tiniest infatuation with him. He was always slithering out from the shadows invading your personal space. Even though you didn’t mind the close proximity whenever Alastor came up behind you to grab something that was in front of you, he would lean down close to your ear apologizing, “I am sorry for the intrusion, darling’’, only his voice was deeper than his usual charming range, while his tone scratched a deep itch inside your body. You can never help the heat building between your legs when you feel his breath on your neck as he slips away grinning triumphantly.
  Every time you felt his presence in the room you tried to keep yourself from trailing him with your eyes as he struts proudly with Charlie helping her with whatever she needs for the hotel but in most cases, you could not keep your eyes to yourself. Sometimes Alastor senses your heavy gaze so he turns and looks at you but instead of looking away he just stares at you his grin growing when warmth spreads to your cheeks leaving you hot and flustered forcing you to break from his stare. 
  None of this matters anyways it is not like he means anything by it. It is all just a part of the cruel game he plays to find enjoyment in the suffering of lowly demons. You sigh and shake your head, sitting up straighter. Looking around your plate is full while everyone else’s is almost finished.
  “Are you okay dear? Your plate seems… untouched” Alastor asks grinning, but his smile did not reach his eyes, seemingly concerned, his question forcing all eyes on you. “Wouldn’t want my little helper to starve now,” he said statically, preceding to stare you down.
  “I- um... I am not hungry this morning. I am fine, thank you,” forcing yourself to only look at Alastor for a moment before looking at Charlie. You squeeze your legs tight trying to refrain from thinking about Alastor ‘s back, flush with yours, cursing yourself for thinking about him in that way. “I was actually thinking about staying back while you guys go to dinner.” 
  Charlie frowns for a second before whipping up a reassuring smile “Oh, that’s okay! We will miss you but sometimes you just need a good RnR,” she smiles and finishes the last bite on her fork.
  “Yes, thank your princess,” looking at Angel, wiggling your eyebrows. “I am going to spend the night reading the book you gave me.” You playfully say with a smile barely able to contain your excitement bouncing up and down slightly. 
  Angel cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh sugar, I am not sure that’s going to be very relaxing,” chuckling the spider demon smiles not willing to share his thoughts on the book further. 
  “Reading in general makes me relax I am sure I’ll be fine pretty boy,’ you giggle at the pet name and smile back at Angel who in return gave you a toothy grin. 
  “If you say so (y/n),” Angel says, picking up his plate and walking towards the kitchen. 
  Alastor grin softens as he sees how excited you were, hoping you would turn to look at him with the same sparkle your eyes gave Angel. Grin widening further he had an idea.
  “If you would not mind, dear, I would love to join you while you read. I have a couple radio show ideas that need to be put on paper,” he asks charmingly.
Just the thought of sitting next to Alastor made your cheeks flush and heartbeat rapidly. “Well, by all means come along, I-I wouldn’t mind the company,” you stutter slightly as the last part rushes out of your mouth, unable to control yourself.
  ‘How bold of you’, you thought to yourself, bringing your cold hands to your face trying to settle the burning heat you feel on your cheeks. ‘Why did I say that?’ You ask yourself, quickly coming undone when you think about being alone with Alastor. Temporarily unable to breathe you force yourself to cut up some of the cold food on your plate. A meaningless task you thought ‘Why did he even want your company?’
  “Very well, dear,” Alastor says as he gets up from his seat walking to your chair, only to stop a couple inches from where you sat, he leaned down and spoke softly in your ear. “Now, finish your breakfast darling.” You inwardly groan as his breath whisps past your neck. All you could do was sink slightly further into your chair and nod.
~~~
  You spend the rest of the day doing your laundry coming to and from your room on the second floor to the basement. Grateful for the mundane task you sigh contently thinking over your love life. Why hadn’t you branched out and at least experienced someone giving you pleasure? You always became hot and bothered from reading about love and sometimes lust, why could not you indulge with someone tangible. Your attraction towards these fiction man had overpowered any attraction for anyone in your real in your life. No one ever came close.
  Your mind drifted to Alastor, the sound of his voice or his closeness brought a flood between your legs and a small knot of tension in your stomach every time you saw him. It is not like you’ve never felt arousal before, buts it’s never been this strong for someone you could interact with. You shake your head and let out a frustrating sigh, trying to clear your thoughts as you gather up the rest of your last load, making your way back up to your room carrying your laundry basket.
  You decided once you reached your room to take a shower to try to clean off the dirtiness of your mind, swearing Alastor had a sixth sense for that, never failing you use it against you to make you flustered.
You take a short shower coming out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel as you make your way to your bed covered in folded clean clothes. Wrestling up some comfortable shorts and a large long sleave-shirt you get dressed without putting on a bra. Why would you? When you were alive that is how you dressed when you were lost in a book, why not be comfortable allowing yourself to let go today.
  Standing up off your bed you go to your bookshelf grabbing your Angels book and start to head downstairs to the kitchen to make tea and milk, your comfort drink for reading. When you make your way downstairs in the lobby, you are greeted by the crew getting ready to leave for Lucifer’s dinner.
  “Wow, you all look amazing.” Looking down at your lounge wear you suddenly felt embarrassed with how you were dressed.
   “Thank you (y/n), you look very comfy!” Charlie smiles as she bounces up and down while Vaggie tries to calm her, giggles some.
  You blush looking down to rub your feet together as Angel comes over grabbing your hand, raising your arm up and spinning you around with a twirl.
“Now, this is what I want to be wearing”, you giggle feeling the blush lift, Angel always making you feel instantly better. He reminded you a lot like a friend you had when you were alive, making you feel safe.
  “We should probably get going, don’t want to worry Dad.’’ Charlie chuckles as she practically out the door with Vaggie in tow, while everyone is waving and reciting their goodbyes the door finally closes behind them.
  Standing alone in the lobby you are left feeling empty, second guessing yourself on staying home. ‘Maybe you should have gone with them instead,’ you shook your head, chiding your own thoughts. ‘No’ you needed this; you have not had a real escape since showing up in hell.
  You skipped your way to the kitchen to prepare your tea. After successfully having the patience to wait for your tea bag to seep you poured what tastes and smells like milk into your tea, not noticing the label that fell to the floor reading ‘Property of Angel DO NOT touch’, gathering your book and mug you head to the bar.
  You grab a piece of paper and pen so you could write a note to Alastor letting him know where you were in case, he would hold to his word, which you were still unsure if he really meant it or if it was a part of his game.
I will be on the outside patio.
Waiting patiently
(y/n)
  Satisfied, you grab your things and make your way to the patio, a place you often came for some peace. You smile when you realize the fading light will be enough to read naturally for a little bit before the lights around the patio will turn on and the fireflies will be flicking just past the garden’s tree line. After a long gulp of your tea, you grimace at the overwhelming sweet taste, placing your mug down on a side table next to the comfortable outside couch. ‘Must have put too much sugar in.’ Shaking your head.
You settling down with your back leaning against the cushioned arm, you stretch your legs out before bringing your knees up close towards your chest allowing space for you to curl up with your book. Before you could start, you hear static in front of you and the air chilling around you slightly. You look up to see Alastor appearing with his shadows fading away around him as he sat with his legs crossed with a pen and pad laying on his lap.
  “Good evening, darling,’’ Alastor immediately noticed how your cheek grew into a deep crimson, but that is not all he noticed. Your feet were slightly apart and with the way your knees were placed you gave him quite the view. Your shorts had bunch up outlining your cunt perfectly, your puffy lips outrageously enhance by the middle seam of your shorts.
  “Hello Alastor,” looking down you flip your book opening it, holding in a moan since saying his name had influence on you making you clench your core suddenly heat spread between your legs.
  When Alastor saw your cunt clench, he almost let out a groan feeling rapid swelling against his pants. How did you have such a hold on him? He wanted to grab your ankles, pull you to him and rip off your shorts so he could finally taste your sweet-smelling core.Tearing his gaze away he sat there lost in his mind before you broke him of the spell you had on him.
  “If you’re okay with it I am going to start,’ you say as you flip to the first chapter, you look up and see Alastor’s smile stained. “Hey Al… you are doing, okay?” You ask though before you could start worrying, his smile changed softly.
“Go ahead darling, I am okay I am just thinking though some interesting ideas for my radio show.” You nod, returning your focus to your book.
  You and Alastor sat in silence for a while as you read long enough for the patio lights to have turned on. The tone of the book was unbelievably sexual from the first chapter. Graphic depictions of the two lovers sex life were… well it was making you more aroused. The male companion was exactly what you would want in the bedroom. Something you have fantasized repeatedly but you could not help picturing Alastor as the main male character. You being chained and dominated under him, wrists tied to a bed unable to do anything while you were being taken.
  Your core ached desperate for some attention, it had become overwhelming to say the least, your cunt clenched over nothing countless time. How could I get this horny after reading this book, it felt unreal, the aching increase and you almost let out a moan. ‘Oh my god what has gotten in you?’ you start to question reality now. Trying to clear your head you shifted slightly drawing Alastor’s attention back to you while your mind was captured with the scene being played out in your head unable to focus on your book.
  Alastor’s gaze shifted from your blushing, sweaty face to your cunt that was already beginning to leak with your arousal causing a wet spot on your shorts clearly, the fabric becoming slightly transparent forcing him to know the color of your panties. He felt his cock twitch aching for some friction. All he wanted to do was run a finger down your wet shorts, just to see what type of reaction you would make. Suddenly you throw your legs over the side of the couch, planting your feet on the ground unable to control your shaking legs. Alastor quickly looks down at his notepad afraid of getting caught looking at your cunt rubbing a hand across his face to try to mask his flustered face.
 Panting slightly, with your head hanging low you try to catch your breath as the aching became too much. Every part of your body felt sensitive like it was on fire and needed a release. You had to get away from Alastor and quickly, he could not see you like this. Lifting your head, you look in front of you noticing the fireflies pulsing in the distance. Perfect. Unable to think rationally you hop up on your feet and turn to Alastor.
  “I-I am going to go um… L-look at the… um fireflies! For a minute,’’ panting you try to regain your composure but Alastor sensed something was wrong, so he reaches out and grabs your hand sending electric shocks up your arm. You flinch and pull your hand back throwing it up to your mouth coving a small barely audible gasp.
  “Are you okay dear? You seem…wound up’’ his voice dropping an octave, your core throbbed at his voice wondering if that’s what he would sound like fucking you dumb.
“Y-yess, I am fine” sucking in a breath, you say, “I just need a minute to take a break.’’
  It takes everything in you to not run as fast as possible to find cover somewhere you could relieve the heat that was continually bubbling at your core. Finally making your way past the tree line and out of Alastor’s line of sight, crouching down on the fountain in the middle of the garden you collapse to the ground to your knees bracing yourself on the stone edge.
  Confused Alastor he picked up your book wondering if it was the cause of your sudden mood shift, peeking through a couple paragraphs only to find a complete description of a couple in an intimate moment. He looked up to where you had gone, a thought peeking is interest. He follows after you staying back some to see what you would do.
  Stuffing your hand under your panties, you instantly find your throbbing bundle of nerves and start to rub in circles causing you to moan loudly, confident you were out of ear shot from Alastor so you felt free to let go.
  You need more. Quickly you pull your shorts down a little with your spare hand, giving yourself a little more room to move further to your cunt entrance.You slide a finger down your slit and circle around your core getting your finger wet before entering yourself. “Oh… fuck,” you moan again.
  You have never felt anything like this before, everything feels more intense and sensitive. It would normally take minutes of fingering yourself to even reach this level of pleasure, but this was something different. Your walls clenched as you go deeper and found your sweet spot gently pressing back and forth, with this you are melting further down, unable to keep yourself up.
Alastor’s grinning face flashes against your tightly shut eyes like it has so many times before when you have touched yourself. You could not help but moan, “A-Alastor…” saying his name made your core tighten and started to spasming around your finger reaching your climax.
“Oh, you have been a naughty little girl’’, you gasp hearing Alastor’s voice behind you. Panting still coming down from your orgasm, you turn slowly facing him pulling your hand out of your shorts quickly.
“OH my, Alastor I-“
  “No need to explain dear’’ his smirk widening. “I did hear my name though. Were you touching yourself at the mere thought of me perhaps?”
  How did he hear that? Was he standing here the whole time?
  Bashfully you say in a quiet voice, “Y-yes’’ unable to hide your lust and desire throbbing from your inflamed cunt, you lower your head hoping he wouldn’t notice.
  Alastor’s in front of you in seconds using his staff to lift your chin forcing you to look at him. “It’s quite alright little doe” he leans down at the waist inches from your face making you squirm feeling his breath on your lips. “In fact, I have wanted to sample your taste for some time now,’’ with a strained smile, “All you have to say is one word, and I could help with your…” shifting his staff he trailed it down your stomach stopping right before he reached your cunt. “Problem.”
  Shamefully you could not say no so you whisper “Yes,’’ breathing out.
  Immediately after you respond he’s pressing his lips to yours, licking his tongue at your bottom lip you, asking for permission before proceeding. You moan against his lips finding yourself lost as he enters your mouth as his tongue searches yours, teeth lightly nipping at your bottle lip.
Your body lights up in that moment, you lean forward and wrap your hands around his neck pulling him closer as you rake your fingers though his hair. Stifling a moan, air whips around both of you, next thing you know, you find yourself on top of something soft. Your head starts to swarm, and your body starts to heat up just like before, telling you it needed to be touched.
  You break the kiss and lean your head back, breathing out as Alastor trails kisses down your jawline stopping before latching on to a sensitive spot. “Alastor… please I need…” You voice catching when he drags a claw down your side until he reaches the hem of your shirt. You shudder as his hand moves under slowly and slides up over your bare rib cage before stopping just under your breast.
  ‘’You need what, (y/n), be a good girl and use your words.” His hand moves up cupping your breast and runs a finger over your hard nipple making you moan and lean back forcing him to straddle one of your thighs with his knee pressed up against your cunt. You grind yourself against his leg, groaning as your eyes cloud with lust at the much-needed friction.
“T-touched. I need to be touched more.’’ It was all you could make out before Alastor rubs circles around your nipple making you shiver all over.
  “As you wish my sweet girl.” Alastor snaps and you are laying there completely bare in front of him. You let out a yelp and instinctively try to cover your mound with your hands before you could reach green chains appeared around your wrist pulling them over your head. You whine and try to close your legs even though it was helpless since his thigh was still pressed against you.
  “N-no one has ever seen…’’ you stop for a second so you would not sound dirty. ‘’Me before,” your face starts to burn in embarrassment. Alastor notices and trails his claws up your neck grasping your jaw to make you stare at him though half-lidded eyes.
 “Ill be gentle my sweet,’’ with that you nod allowing your legs to open wide letting Alastor have a full look at your glistening cunt. You hear his suck in a deep breath before lowly saying “You are perfect, and this is all mine to enjoy, no one else has even glimpsed at you.” He groans closing his eyes at the thought, using his spare hand and slides a finger though your slick folds, you hike your hips against his finger at the instant pleasure. “How far have gone before?” It takes you a second to respond, all you could focus was Alastor’s fingers gingerly touching your entrance. You glare at him for a second after registering what he said.
  “I’ve taken more than just my fingers Alastor,’’ you say faking anger. “Just not with anyone real.”
  In response to this Alastor’s thrusts his finger into you, curling up and presses down causing you to moan loudly at the sudden pressure on your sweet spot. His finger pumping faster as he adds another digit inflicting your walls to pulse over his fingers.
  His eyes shift to yours full of desire and command, “What have you used on yourself then?” Alastor’s eyes dart down to your cunt pressing his thumb against your clit, circling slowly.
  You jolt your waist up your whole body flares with heat. “A toy!” you practically yell in pleasure. Commanding your breath to return you say, “A six-inch p-plastic toy” tears forming in your eyes, choking more words out. “It was all I could manage.” You whisper, tears spilling over to the sides of your face, falling into your hairline.
  His grip gets tighter making his claws dig into your inner thigh, forcing small droplets of blood to rise to the surface. You wince at the pain, but surprisingly it increases your pleasure, making you rut your hips further on his fingers. Alastor moans while chuckling. “So, you do like pain too…” Gliding a third finger into your heat. “Oh, darling you are going to have to take more than six inches.”
  Your brain goes into over-drive as you start to feel pressure building in your lower stomach “Alastor please I need more” begging as more tears fall.
  ‘’Mmh, good girl. I want you to want me and me only, by the time we are done you are going to beg for me to stop.” He leans over your chest and takes a nipple in his warm mouth biting just enough to inflict pain, but he quickly runs his tongue in a circle causing you to moan his name. “Oh, you’re so reactive, every touch so far. I can’t wait to hear more of your precious sounds.”
  “T-that’s new…I’ve never felt like this before, the intense heat feels so.” You voice trailed off as Alastor leads kisses up your neck, he brings up his bloody claws up to his mouth, taking a taste. He groans loudly closing his eyes at the taste of your blood. You watch him open his eyes franticly looking at you with a need for more, your words fall out of your mouth. “Un-natural.”
  Alastor kisses your neck and nicks the soft skin, lapping up your blood feverishly. Your walls tighten around his fingers, feeling yourself close with an orgasm. Right before you get your release, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his mouth he licks one digit clean before bringing them to your lips forcing them open. You lap up your own juices on his fingers making Alastor moan. Shutting your eyes as he sucks harder on your neck trying to draw out more blood. You hear his buckle coming undone as Alastor takes his fingers out of your mouth, in an instant he is fully undressed.
  You open your eyes at the touch of Alastor’s cock gently tapping your clit. You look him up and down, your eyes tracing his chest. Surprised to see a puffy patch of black and red hair, thinning out as it reaches his stomach leaving a happy trial of red leading down to his cock. You are left breathless as you gawk at the sheer size of him alone. Your eyes dart up and he's looking down at you with a mischievous grin as he slides the tip of his cock down your slit getting himself lubricated with your juices, stopping just before entering your heat.
  You fiddle with the chains restricting your movement and you whine, wiggling your hands. “Please Alastor, came I have my hands back, I want to touch you.” Moaning as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut at the intrusion that came along with a burning sensation around your tight ring.
  “Oh, darling I think not. I happen to look though your book earlier, and it included bondage little doe.” His voice dropping the way you always fantasize over. Alastor gives you a moment to acclimate to his size before pressing further into you slowly, “and domination,’’ he says as he magically pulls the chains tighter. You gasp as he fills you more, filling you to the point you thought you were going to burst, you clench down hard around Alastor shaft resulting in his cock twitching inside you. Alastor moans and presses a hand on your lower stomach right over your uterus making you gasp not knowing that pressure would give you such an intense pleasure. “Just relax, you going to take all of me.” Alastor growls saying the last part as he reaches under one of your knees lifting it over his shoulder, pressing forward when he feels you ease up around his cock.
 You bite your lip hard trying to hold in a moan, enough to break the skin making your mouth fill up with the taste of iron. Some of the blood pooling around your mouth before falling slowly down your chin dripping on to your chest.
  Alastor looks down at you with lust filled eyes widening at the sight of your blood. You could see his composer failing, so you take your tongue and wipe it across your lip sucking in the blood you had on your lips. That sets something off in Alastor as he plunges the rest of his length flush with your hips. Surprised at the feeling of being completely filled and the force of the thrust you yelp in pleasure as his cock twitch against your cervix. Your cunt spasms around his perfectly snug cock making you shudder.
   Nothing has ever been inside you this deep before causing our cunt to burn as his cock stretches you beyond the breaking point, well past the three-inch girth of your previous toy.
  Straining against the chains you whisper breathlessly,” oh Alastor please move. I need more” you beg, grinding against his cock.
  “You are taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor coos as he pulls back his hips pulling out enough to still have his tip buried inside you and thrust softly so you can get used to the movement. Moaning, you arch your back at the sensation of his cock pushing though your gummy walls.
  “Alastor,’ you growl pulling on the chains even though they dig into your skin leaving your wrists raw and red. “You don’t need to be gentle with me” sucking in your breath as he slides slowly into your cunt again. “I can take it.’
  “Don’t worry little doe you’ll get what you’re asking for,” thrusting into you with more force before he starts to take a brutal pace bruising your cervix each time, he pounds into you. Your vison starts to blacken around the edges as you are quickly approaching your release. Alastor grabs your other knee and forcing them to your chest gaining an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. You could not hear yourself anymore for your mind was overloading with the pleasure he was encouraging and fucking into you.
  “Al-Alastor, Alastor… oh my s-stars. Alastor please.” You moan his name like a chant over again sometimes you could not make yourself speak but continued saying Alastor’s name in your head. Alastor lowers your legs and raises your hips higher making him hit your g-spot with each thrust. “Please d-don’t stop” you beg, rolling your hips trying to match Alastor’s speed feeling the coil at your core tighten further making your walls clench down in return Alastor moans at your sudden tightness.
  “Good girl, beg for my cock to make you cum” you shudder as he rapidly increases his pounding.
  “P-please Al-Alastor I n-need t-to cum’’ you sob stumbling though your words from the roughness and speed he was fucking you at.
 “Yes, doe, cum on my cock. Show me how much you want it.” Alastor leans down and kisses your collarbone and he bites hard leaving an outline of his teeth without breaking the skin.
The chains disappearing around your wrists, he slips his hands under your each of your arms pulling you up, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, latching on to your neck sucking so hard blood rises to the surface just under the skin.
‘’Bite me’’ you whine and slamming your hips against him, grinding on his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck running your fingers through his hair before you reach his growing antlers, you grasp the for some support forcing Alastor’s thrust to sputter when your made contact with them.
Alastor bites down on to your shoulder, pain knocking the breath out of you as he breaks the skin but not enough to tear around his teeth. He pulls back for a moment to watch the dark red blood rise and bubble over before any bit had a chance to drip, his mouth cupped around the bite mark, the sweet liquid flooding into his mouth. Alastor’s body starts to react to the blood fucking you harder he starts to feel you tremble as your body tightens.
Your orgasm rakes though your body with such power you start to go limp, your walls pulsing around Alastor’s cock. He releases your shoulder with a pop and groans as you milk his cock making him reach his climax, sputtering thick chains of warm seed into your womb. You let out a whimper as he slows his thrusts before thrusting into one more time resting his already softening cock inside your heat not wanting to leave.
  Alastor lowers your upper half back onto the bed and stares at your weak twitching body. Adoring the way you looked, shoulder oozed slowly, lip ripped and completely fuck dumb. You sigh in contentment as you raise your hands and rub your face smiling, looking up at Alastor, his face reflecting the one you had.
  With one last thrust he pulls out of taking a moment to watch his seed leak out, groaning satisfied he conjures up a warm wet rag, cleaning you up as your eyes flutter shut still trying to catch your breath.
  Chuckling, Alastor tosses the rag near the end of the bed he leans over your bloody body and press a soft kiss on your lips feeling your smile grow against his.
  ‘’I am yours; I don’t want anyone else,” you whisper softly opening your eyes to gage how he would respond.
  With Alastor’s face so close to your he leans down planting another kiss on your lips and says, “So you will be, mine for the taking.” He settles down next to you and pulls you up to his chest resting your face against his chest. You sink your hands in the puff of fur and close your eyes drifting off to sleep as you listen to Alastor hum a song from his time.
~~~
Later that evening you go back down to the kitchen to rinse out your coffee mug and see a thin piece of paper on the ground near the fridge. Reading it you immediately you text Angel.
(y/n): Angel was this on a clear jug with milk in it.
Angel: Yes, it was can you tape it back to the jug, I don’t want someone to get drugged. <3
(y/n): Drugged with what?
Angel: A drug that makes sex feel more intense, Val gave it to me to use for the next shoot, something about having bigger, better reactions.
You quickly make your way to Alastor’s room not bothering to knock you barge in and announce, “I was DRUGGED, my tea was spiked.” You proceed to show your messages to Alastor and explained you had used the drugged milk in your tea.
Alastor looks at you with a mischievous smile and says, “Well I guess we have to do it again to be sure you know exactly what I gave you tonight.”
You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cunt at the thought of fucking Alastor again.
~~~
A/N- This is my first time writing a fanfic and having the courage to post it, I hope it’s okay!! Request are open I’ll be posting the parameters later but feel free to ask! Feel free to voice your opinion <3 Thank you for reading 
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roach-works · 3 days
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for all its (apparently many?) flaws, i really enjoyed the fallout show, and i'm ride or die for maximus, obviously. but one of the things i enjoyed about lucy's arc isn't that she wasn't necessarily proved RIGHT or WRONG about her own moral code, she didn't learn that either kindness is its own reward or that niceness is suicidal in a fight for survival.
what she learned, i am pretty sure, is that context matters. you can't actually help people if you don't know anything about them. you can't enact justice if you don't know what the case on trial is. you can't come in out of nowhere and make snap decisions and be anything more than one more complication in a situation that was fucked up long before you were born.
that's what we see over and over: she comes in out of nowhere, she makes an attempt to help based on her immediate assumption of what's going on, and then everything continues to be dangerous and complicated and fucked up. she doesn't let the stoners explain that some ghouls will genuinely try to eat you the minute they get the chance, and she pays for it. she jumps to the wrong conclusion in vault 4 because not everyone who looks like a monster IS a monster, and she pays for it. yeah a lot of the time cooper is abusing her for his own satisfaction, but when she's a free agent she's a loose canon and it's not because the show is punishing her for TRYING to do the right thing. it's because the show is punishing her for jumping to conclusions.
this show gets a lot of laughs from Fish Out Of Water situations, but i think that even though cooper explicitly says "you'll change up here and not for the better, you'll become corrupted and selfish just to survive" that's not the real message. what lucy learns is how important it is to hear people out, meet them where they're at, and get the full story.
that's why the final confrontation with her father is so important. she hears everyone out. she gets the full story. she listens to all of it. and then she acts with full knowledge of situation. that's what the wasteland taught her: not to be cruel, not to be selfish, but that taking the time to understand what's actually going on really matters.
this is a show that's incredibly concerned with truth and lies. everyone is lying to each other and themselves. scenes change over and over as they're recontextualized. love and hate and grief and hope are just motives in a million interconnected shell games, not redeeming justifications. maximus's many compounded falsehoods are approved of by his own superior, who finds a corrupt pawn more useful than an honorable one. cooper finds out his wife has her own private agenda and this betrayal keeps him going for centuries. lucy's entire society is artificial and from the moment they find out they're not safe and maybe never have been, all the vault dwellers are scrambling to deal with that.
ANYWAY. i just think it's neat. sci fi is a lens to analyze our present through a hypothetical future, and i think it's pretty significant for this current age we live in, where we're all grappling with misinformation, conspiracy theories, propaganda, and deepfakes, there's a huge anxiety over how hard it can be to find the truth out about anything. i think the show suggests that it's always worth the work to try.
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permanentswaps · 2 days
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Like Father Like Son Pt.2
Read the original from @exploratorytfs here.
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It's been three years since that bizarre twist of fate turned my life upside down, or should I say, right side up. Looking back now, I can't help but smirk at the irony of it all. I won't tell my dad (yeah, I definitely think of him as my dad now), but the truth is, the body swap wasn't entirely an accident.
I just wanted to give him a taste of my carefree lifestyle, show him that growing up and being mature isn’t all it's cracked up to be. So, I went online and found a way for us to swap.
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I never meant for it to be permanent. I mean, who would want to stay in someone else's body forever? But the moment I found myself in his shoes, staring at the world through his eyes, I knew I had hit the jackpot. His body, his life—it all felt like a perfect fit.
It had only been a day, but I didn’t want to ever leave. What was I gonna do now? I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, to the mundane routine and endless expectations. No, this was where I belonged. But how could I make it permanent without causing even more chaos?
Surprisingly, my dad seemed content in my old body, reveling in the responsibility of it all. He didn't seem eager to find a way to swap back, and I couldn't help but gloat inwardly. It was almost too easy—I had traded up in every possible way.
Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a surge of excitement coursed through me. The chiseled jawline, the toned, youthful physique, the effortless charm—it was like I had been upgraded to the deluxe model. And as much as I tried to suppress it, I couldn't help but revel in the undeniable satisfaction of it all.
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So when my dad brought up the idea of making the swap permanent, I didn't hesitate. "Hell yeah, Dad," I replied with a smirk, savoring the taste of victory.
We hashed out the details over dinner, but in my mind, it was already a done deal. And just like that, the deal was sealed. Sure, there are moments when I feel a twinge of guilt for keeping my dad's body, but then I remembered how much better I look in it, and the guilt just turned to horniness. After all, who wouldn’t want to be me.
Shortly thereafter, I signed a modeling contract – of course, who wouldn’t wanna see a body like this? Every photoshoot, every runway strut, only served to reinforce my belief that I had made the right choice.
My dad was so excited for me and gave me his sports car as a present for that and my birthday. He told me to be careful with it like the responsible guy he is. I promised him I would be, but I speed down the highway blasting music. After all, a hot young jock like me has to do that! … But I'll let him think he's having a good influence on me.
Through my modeling gig, I met my boyfriend James. He embodied everything I found irresistible: tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. What intrigued me even more was that he had no clue this body wasn't originally mine. That really turned me on.
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Even though I'm used to living this life by now and fully think of myself as Nathan, I still get a thrill every time he calls me by my name. Just last week, we were having a night of passionate sex. As he pressed me down onto the bed in missionary, he thrust back and forth in slow. deep strokes.
Rubbing his right thumb in circles around my left nipple, he leaned down to kiss me. I looked up at him in awe. Smirking back had me he said in a husky voice, “I love you Nathan.”
Before I knew it, I was shooting my load across his thick, muscular chest.
Mixed in with the pleasure, I had to laugh to myself. In a way, I got what I wanted. Nathan (or at least his body) definitely is living his youth now.
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ldrfanatic · 2 days
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two worlds collided
theodore nott x fem!malfoy!ravenclaw!reader
a.n. this is quickly becoming a theo obsession blog BUT I am open to requests for others
love theo in this piece.
to be added to my theo nott taglist just comment on one of my theo nott posts :)
synopsis - you're draco's sister but you're a ravenclaw. your father shunned you because he thought that voldemort wouldn't want you but when Nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride your father takes this as the perfect opportunity. over time you grow to genuinely care for one another.
warning - cursing, lucius malfoy is a prick, hitting, borderline verbal abuse, arranged marriage
accompanying song - never tear us apart (bishop briggs)
nav slytherin boys
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"Father is asking for you."
Shock washed over you and you wondered if you submerged yourself into your cloud-like bed if Lucius would just forget about it. After carefully weighing your options, it seemed rather unlikely. You threw your navy covers to the side and shuffled awkwardly to the main dining hall where your mother, father, and older brother Draco were waiting.
Your eyes fell onto a rather scary looking man and another handsome figure who you recognized as Theodore Nott, one of Draco's friends.
"Daughter." The warm velvet tones of Narcissa Malfoy filled the air. After you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco and Lucius had shunned you. Narcissa had been the only person in the entire family still kind to you. Well, she and your estranged aunt Andromeda who you'd been secretly exchanging letters since third year.
"Now that the Dark Lord has gained strength, it is imperative that we maintain close connections within the Sacred 28." Lucius approached you, looking rather unhinged, and placed a large hand on your shoulder. There was a malicious look in his eyes that made the entire interaction all the more unnerving. "Once the Dark Lord begins his plans, he'll need people he can trust to continue the most important of magical bloodlines."
Your father took you by the shoulders and moved you to stand in front of Theodore and the mystery man at his side.
"This is Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, who I presume you know from school."
Nott Sr. glanced to the side at Theodore who snapped out of a sort of trance. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it.
"Y/n."
You smiled but didn't say anything, waiting in silence for your father to elaborate. He and Nott Sr. had clearly formed some sort of plan. "You and his son are to be married."
"What?!" Your body whipped around of its own accord and you felt rage explode over your body. "You haven't spoken to me in years and suddenly you expect me to marry this man without even asking me if I wish to be married to him or anyone for that matter?!"
Lucius' hand came down suddenly. A loud 'whack' resounded in the room as the back of his palm made contact with your cheek. "You ungrateful little brat." He straightened his cloak and took what you supposed was meant to be a calming breath. "Draco noticed the way that you stared at the Nott boy in school. You ought to be more appreciative that I didn't choose that awful Pucey boy although he was more than willing."
Though you couldn't see, Theodore's nose turned up in disgust at the mention of Adrian Pucey. He'd taken a liking to you, completely undeterred by the elder Malfoy's numerous threats to stay away from his younger sister. Draco might've been appalled that you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that didn't mean that he was gonna let that slimey tosser terrorize you.
Your gaze stayed on the floor for a few moments before you turned back around, muttering a small apology to Theodore and his father. Overall, Theo was quite handsome and you had stared at him more than a few times. He really was quite handsome.
Nott Sr. studied you for a few moments then turned to Theodore expectantly. "Why don't the two of you take a stroll and become acquainted while Lucius and I finish up the particulars." It was phrased like a question, but in truth he wasn't asking. The air was silent as you walked out of the room the brunette boy following diligently.
The cool air nipped at your exposed skin as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you. It was always cold and dark in the area surrounding Malfoy Manor.
"I'm sorry Theodore."
"Theo."
You stared at Theodore like a fish out of water waiting for words of any intelligence to come to you. Finally, you stuttered out an ignorant 'Huh?'.
"Call me Theo."
Your heart beat loudly in you ears for a few moments. "Oh-kay," Theo began to mosey into the Manor gardens with you hot on his heels. He was quite tall and due to the length of his legs, every one step he took was nearly three of yours. "So Theo. I am sorry you got dragged into this."
"That's alright fiancée." Theo teased you with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. For a moment you felt as though you could almost forget that the both of you were being forced into this.
"Still. I know your reputation. I only ask that you keep your conquests separate from our entanglement."
An indescribable akin to hurt flashed in the eyes of the boy before you. As well as something you didn't quite recognize.
"My reputation?" You spluttered at him for a few moments once again making a fool of yourself in front of Theodore Nott.
"Theo I didn't mean to--"
"Whatever." He turned away from you and stalked angrily back towards the Manor, calling over his shoulder. "And it's Theodore."
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The rest of the break passed by pretty miserably, as expected. You and Theodore had gone on a few dates, as demanded by both your father and Nott Sr. since the pair of you were courting now, but they were long and excruciating with little to no conversation.
Despite a summer that seemed as though it would never end, September finally arrived.
You were boarding the train with Theodore and Draco as your parents watched on. They'd been keeping an extra close eye on the pair of you. In all honesty, you and Theodore hadn't grown any closer in your courtship than you'd been as distant acquaintances the year prior. If anything, the walk in the garden at the start of your relationship had forced you further apart.
And though you'd pretended you didn't care, seeing Theodore with other girls was never something you'd enjoyed. Now, knowing that he'd be your husband sooner rather than later, the thought of Theo running around with some daft blonde Slytherin made your heart sink to your stomach.
Yet, as the year progressed, you and the rest of Hogwarts were unexpectedly surprised by Theo. Before you knew it, the first snowfall graced Hogwarts in November, and Theodore hadn't had any flings with any girls. He was even turning down girls that had been brave enough to approach him and make the first move.
Without your parents to keep the two of you tightly bound, you and Theodore hadn't spoken since the train in.
Through all of this, you hadn't expected to become close friends with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl in Theo and Draco's year. But she'd walked up to you during breakfast one morning and the two of you really hit it off.
Hence why currently, you were sat on Pansy's bed while she worked on her charms homework. And she was putting her absolute all into trying to convince you to ask Theo to Hogsmeade.
"C'mon Y/n! It might be fun."
"If by fun you mean he'll humiliate me in front of the entire student body." You mumbled under your breath. You tried to tune her out so as to focus on the book you were currently attempting to read, but she was determined.
"According to Blaise Theo's been talking about you when Draco isn't around to glare at him for it."
"Look Pans, I know you're in love with the bloke but have you considered that Blaise may be confused? Or simply taking the mickey?" Pansy shot you an unimpressed look. "Theo and I haven't spoken since September. In any case, if he's turning down long legged red heads who are all but stripping in front of him, what makes you think he'd want to go out with me?"
"Because he's already agreed to speak with you in the Slytherin Common Room tonight."
"What?!"
Pansy ignored your protests and damn near dragged you down to the common room with an iron grip on your wrist. When you got there, Theo was spread out on one of the expensive leather couches with a cigarette in between his lips. Yet as he noticed you approaching, he immediately dropped it and put it out with a stomp on the stone floors.
"Y/n."
The sonorous tones of Theo's voice bounced off each wall of the common room and seemed to warm you from the inside out. His voice was so inviting that you almost believed you could actually do this.
There is, however, one thing to know about Theodore Nott. No matter how inviting or pleasant Theo's aura is, you'd made a promise to yourself not to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you made the unfortunate mistake to look Theodore Nott in his malachite eyes, you'd lose all ability to think, speak, even breathe properly.
It wasn't until you saw his shoes enter your line of sight that you knew that he'd approached you at all. Worse, when his large hand found purchase under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, you knew that you were well and truly fucked.
In that most regrettable moment, you realized how much you'd fallen in love with Theodore. During shared hushed dates and the rare moments of laughter. Theodore Nott had completely enraptured you. And you realized much too late to do anything about it.
So now here you stood. Lost in the beautiful blues and greens of your fiancée's eyes. You were completely, 100% at Theodore Nott's mercy. And likely not for the last time in your life, you felt the urge to give into him. He was a sin that you'd willingly drown in.
"Bellisima," Theo's voice thickened as he spoke. You couldn't understand what he was saying nor could you place the language. But in all honesty, you hadn't known that he even spoke any other languages. His tongue wrapped effortlessly around each syllable and his voice deepened even more than usual, if possible. "I asked you a question."
"Huh?"
"You've been avoiding me." He stepped closer and your heartbeat spiked. "Why?"
Why had you been ignoring Theo again? How could you, or anyone for that matter, ever dream of not giving this devastatingly handsome man everything he desired and more? Oh yeah. Your wretched father.
"You've already been roped into entrapment with me and then forced to hang out with me all summer. I didn't want to cause anymore turmoil to your peace than I already have."
Theo's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Once again you'd gone and offended the poor boy.
Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off.
"D'you know for a Ravenclaw, you really can be rather thick sometimes?"
You felt your jaw drop in shock. The small grin he currently sported on his face let you know that he'd obviously been teasing. And for the umpteenth time since knowing him, Theo stole your breath with his stupid mesmerizing smile.
Yet, through all of that, he was right. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Theo finally seemed to get the hint that he was going to have to spell this out for you.
"I know you probably don't know this about me, but I never do anything that I don't want to. No matter who's asking."
You continued to stare at him blankly. Had he hit his head during the last quidditch match?
Theo ran a hand stressfully through his hair. He grabbed your wrist and led you back to the couches where you settled comfortably in the seat next to him, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Merlin, Y/n. Turns out you Malfoy's are all slow."
"No offense." He added on quickly when he saw the look on your face. "That's not the point. Y/n I never would have agreed to this engagement with you if I didn't actually want to. I know that you did not get a say in the matter so if you truly wish to live our lives separately, I will respect your choice." Theo gently pulled your hand until it was safely tucked in between both of his larger ones.
"But whatever your decision, know that I am yours. I have wanted nothing more in the past few months than to be by your side. And every moment I spend without you is inexplicable torture for my soul."
"Theo."
He shook his head and cradled you face between his palms.
"No. My mother had a saying. Lascia che la vita accada. It means 'let life happen'. She believed that the only way to truly know if something is meant for you is to let life make it happen on its own. So take a few days. I'll meet you Saturday morning in the Great Hall. But know that if you agree to be mine, Tesoro, you'll be mine for eternity."
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To say that staying away from Theo in the days following was easy would be a complete and total lie. When you told Pansy about the conversation the pair of you had (or lack thereof really) she'd all but exploded.
Finally, Saturday morning rolled around. You'd genuinely thought about all your options and you'd come to a decision. The only issue with Theo's plan is that Saturday was the infamous Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match. The Great Hall was bustling in seas of only red or green. You were sporting a dark green jumper, a show of obvious support for the Slytherin team.
Those of your house that favored Gryffindor looked on at you with disdain as you stood from your bench and began making your way to the Slytherin table in search of Theo. He was one of Slytherin's chasers so trying to find him during such a hectic morning proved difficult.
As you walked up and down the table, a familiar figure appeared in front of you.
"Ahh Malfoy. I've been looking for you. I was wonderin' if you'd wear my jersey."
Before you had time to respond or even acknowledge the situation at all, Adrian Pucey had shoved his green and silver practice jersey into your arms. It was an incredibly common practice for girlfriends and boyfriends of Quidditch players to wear their partner's jerseys to their games for good luck.
The hall fell silent as the sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air. You looked to the source of the noise. Theo had stood so abruptly from his seat next to Blaise and Lorenzo that his entire breakfast went flying and ended up on the floor.
He was staring at you with clear ache in his eyes. Suddenly, he swung himself over the bench and stormed out of the room.
You threw Adrian's awful smelling jersey back at his face and ran frantically after Theo.
"Theo!" He ignored you and continued walking briskly even as you approached quickly on his heels. "Theodore please. Just let me explain."
"You don't owe me an explanation, dolcezza ragazza. You've made your choice."
"You've got it all wrong. That's not my decision. I don't want that." You cried out as tears brimmed your eyes. The thought of losing Theo because of Adrian Pucey was mournful.
"Hey, hey. Calma tesoro. Breathe." Theo's hands one again found their way to your face. He gently thumbed the tears from your face. "Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll always listen to you."
"Adrian he just sort of threw his disgusting jumper at me. I don't want him. I only want you. I'm yours, Theodore Nott, completely and without hesitation."
The grin on Theo's face was nothing short of heart-stopping.
"Does that mean you'll wear my jersey at the game today?"
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wc 2.6k oops
4.17.24
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@thatdammchickennugget @moonlightreader649
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surielstea · 2 days
Text
Don’t you like me?
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader has been secretly in love with Eris since she was little, so what happens when she’s to be married off to another in a weeks time and he’s yet to make a move?
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ only | p in v | heavy breeding kink | multi-orgasm | cream pie | dirty talk | use of pet names (bunny, baby) | outdated beliefs | typical autumn court views
A/N: HEAVY smut. Like this is fr the filthiest thing I’ve ever published so hope all you freaks enjoy…
5.9k words
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I walked into the dining hall dressed in a stunning gown made from a forest green material that was beyond soft. The bodice was snug and hugged me in all the right places, while the skirt cascaded down in a waterfall of silk, a high slit cutting through the side to show a flash of my leg. I looked like pure perfection.
"Eris," I call to the male who was standing by the window, peering down at the fields, watching over the land like some kind of higher power.
"Hm?" He utters but doesn't cast a glance my way, forming a gaping cavity in my chest.
"Do you like my dress?" I ask, he still doesn't look at me. His arms are crossed over his chest and I can see the tips of his fingers blazing like he's forcing himself to refrain from moving. "The shopkeeper said it looked pretty on me," I smile. "He said it was so perfect that he just had to give me a discount," I add and his ears perk up, head whipping to me. "He?" The protective male asks and a small smile forms on my lips. "At least he had the decency to look at me when I speak to him." I shrug and he bristles, eyes flicking up and down, taking in my dress, my bare leg peering through the slit, the golden earrings he got me for my birthday hanging from my lobes, hair pulled back and out of my face how I knew he liked.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" He takes a step closer and I clasp my hands behind my back, staring up at him innocently. "I'm not sure what you mean, General." I flutter my lashes and a muscle along his jaw feathers.
"Bunny," He grits out and I only continue to stare up at him with curious eyes, the kind I knew made him stumble over his words. "My lord?" I ask with a wondering tone. He swallows thickly and then stones his features. "Are you ready for the ball?" He asks and I hold back from rolling my eyes and instead nod. "Are you?" I ask and he only replies with a sigh, his arm hooking through mine. "Let's get this over with." He muttered, then winnowed us into a crowded ballroom.
I've been trying to get Eris' attention since we were young, but he's always cast me off as a younger sister type, I refused to accept that, so I pushed his buttons. I was the daughter of Beron's most trusted advisor, this ball was put together in order to find me a suitor, every one of these men is here for my hand, I was hoping Eris did something before we got here, hoping he'd say something, anything. But he didn't. So we stood in the center of the ballroom and stared ahead of us at Beron who sat on his throne, my father at his side.
The both of them gave me foxlike grins and I gulped down the anxiety lodged in my throat, hand tightening around Eris' as we approached the dais.
"My lord," I curtsy to the high lord while Eris bows. "Rise girl, today is your day." He hums in a grating voice I've grown to hate. I flick my eyes back up to the eldest Vanserra and do as he says, Eris as well. "I cannot thank you enough for putting on this event for me, I'm beyond grateful," I say to him in a light tone, a polite grin on my face. My father hasn't so much as spared me a glance so I don't look at him either.
"Yes well, you've been of age for some time now haven't you?" He shifts in his throne as if his legs could spread any wider. "I have, my lord." I bow my head. "I have no doubt you'll be able to find an eligible suitor tonight, you look absolutely ravishing." He grins and that expression has never made me more nauseous. Eris' hand tightens on mine and I realize he's still holding it. "I've handpicked all of the males attending tonight, do me a favor, and don't let that work go to waste." He instructs and I nod, his eyes then fall between Eris and I, where our hands are linked. Eris reacts before I can even notice, his hand slipping from mine. My breath hitched for a moment and I turned to look up at him with slightly creased brows. His expression remains stoic as he continues to stare ahead, not daring to meet my gaze.
"Go on," Beron waves us away. I curtsy once more before spinning on my heel, expecting Eris to follow after me but he stayed behind, joining his father's other side on the dais. It was hard to watch so I didn’t look any longer and direction my line of sight to the sea of men waiting for my attention.
I ball my hands into fists before shaking them out as I stare at all the males with beckoning eyes, wanting to be picked for the first dance.
Traditionally I'd dance with the high lord, but the older male didn't seem to have an interest in upholding said tradition, so it was my pick. How generous.
My eyes snag on a head of strawberry-blonde hair in the back. Langdon, a fair-skinned male with piercing green eyes and a gangly figure, I've known him since I was a girl— had a crush on him since his family came into nobility. He was kind, or rather, as kind as they got in the Autumn Court. He wasn't looking my way, this was my ball and he still wasn't looking my way. Why is it that I always wanted men who hold no interest in me?
I look behind me to spot Eris already staring, his fingers anxiously twisting the golden ring around his pinky finger. One of his tells, that one specifically informed me that he was nervous. Over what? I had no idea, but some buried part of me wanted to place my hands over his and tell him there was nothing to worry about.
I shove the feeling down and turn back to the crowd of males who seemed to now stand a whole yard closer.
I was only thankful Beron didn't choose for me, or worse, my father.
Fortunately, Langdon was looking at me now. Our gazes catch and I give the slightest dip of my head. The males who understood they hadn't been picked dispersed, leaving Langdon and I parallel to each other.
The music begins and I remain where I stand, waiting for the male to approach me instead. Once he gets to my side he offers his hand and I take it with little hesitation, the chorus of the song starts and our waltz begins.
I've been trained my entire life for this, my father has made sure I was educated on every custom and tradition of how Autumn Court females must behave, should I step a toe out of line he'd be there to reprimand me, whether that meant physically or mentally.
I knew every dance like the back of my hand, memorized how each dress was hemmed, could do each house chore with my eyes closed, and recite exactly where my place was to anyone who asked— it's been beaten into me so many times it'd be a parody to forget. I belong beside my husband, raising his children. That was it. That's all I've been told I'm any good for.
"I won't ask for your hand," Langdon hums mid-step and I look up to him with curious eyes. I'd be lying if a pang of hurt didn't run through my chest. "And why not?" I ask, my dress swirling around me as he twirls me around. "I won't tie you down, I refuse." He shakes his head and my heart aches. "So you'll let someone else then?" I suggest and he swallows, clearly not thinking of the others. "It's not like that," He sighs. "You wouldn't be happy with me." He explains with guilt simmering in his eyes. "So you'll subject me to being unhappy with another just because of your own selfishness?" I presume and his brows raise a fraction. "No," He shakes his head. "I'll subject you to make your own decision because you're in love with another," He claims and my breathing halts for a moment.
I go quiet, silently taking myself through the steps I've been doing since I was a child. "I'm not sure what you mean." I finally manage to get out. "Oh c’mon, it's obvious to every male here except him." The blonde scoffs and I refrain from rolling my eyes, he is preaching to the choir.
"Even if you're right," The music stops and so do we. I stare up at him with an unwavering amount of elegance. "I can't have him," I whisper and he squares his features. "I won't tie you down." He repeats, believing he's doing me a favor by pulling himself from the equation. "I understand." I nod, even if I don't want to, then I curtsy one last time towards the male and take another's hand.
I went through at least ten more tedious males after that and nearly twenty tiresome waltzes before I was allowed a break. I loved to dance, sure, but not like this. Not in a ballroom full of predators. I miss when it was just Eris and me when he'd meet me here at midnight and we'd sway, following no choreography but rather flowing to the music, improvising to whatever song played. I could still feel the way his warm arms wrapped around me, how he cradled me to his chest while we talked softly about anything and everything. That was the Eris I knew, that was the Eris I loved. Not this mask made for the public, the one his father forced him to be.
I was startled from my daze by a hand coming to my forearm. I jump slightly and turn to the figure at my side. "Apologies for disturbing you, my lady," A brunette male I wish I could recall the name of stood before me. He was the sixth male I danced with, we waltzed three times if I remember correctly.
"No worries," I shake my head with a polite smile. "I've spoken to your father," He swallows nervously and I glance to the dais where Beron and my father were but Eris no longer was.
"He's consented to my asking for your hand," The male explains and my head snaps back to him, brows slightly raised. The brunette wasn't unattractive by any means, in fact, he was quite handsome, but he's not who I want him to be— guilt forms in my stomach at the thought. Langdon had been right.
A hand comes down onto my shoulder before I can think of a reply, but I don't startle this time. Because I could recognize that scent of warm cinnamon and campfire embers from anywhere, along with the feel of his large, calloused hand, the touch was beyond familiarity.
"Sorry to interrupt," A baritone voice purrs and my eyes light up. "But I need to borrow her for a moment," His hand slides down my arm protectively and I have to hold back from scoffing, he had the nerve to ignore me all night but as soon as another male shows interest, he comes over to claim me.
"Of course my lord," The brunette bows his head respectfully. "Go on then," He shoos and I whirl around to face the heir as the other male skitters away. "Are you serious?" I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at the redhead who had a smirk plastered onto his features. "That's the first proposal I've gotten all night!" I say with a hush and his smirk only widens. "Oh I know, you have no idea how hard it is to fend them off." He grumbled like it was a weight on his shoulders. My eyes widen as I stare at him in shock. "Are you kidding— What's the point of this event if you're scaring off every interested suitor?" I crease my brows, hands dropping to my hips.
Eris' head whips to the dais where both of our fathers are intently watching us. "C'mon," The heir grabs me by my wrist. "We need somewhere private." He decides, pulling me through the length of the ballroom, my protests are halfhearted, not minding the idea of getting away from this place. He pulled us into a sectioned-off alcove that was secluded enough for him to winnow us elsewhere.
My feet landed on dark wooden tiles, stood in the master bedroom of Eris' apartment on the outskirts of Autumn that not even Beron knew about.
"Why are you fending them off?" I question, narrowing my eyes at him skeptically. He shrugs with a stoic expression, looking towards the unlit fireplace at our right. "The people my father picked," He starts. "None of them can be good." He explains and I grit my teeth. "He picked Langdon." I excuse and Eris nearly growls at the name. "Langdon is a prick and he doesn't deserve you," Eris states like it's a fact. "He's nice to me," I mutter softly. "The bare minimum isn't something you should settle for." His brows straighten and something evil churns in the pit of my stomach. "Well, it's not like I have many options." I square my features, glaring up at him and maintaining my ground.
He hasn’t done anything up until now and as soon as I show any fraction of interest in someone else he comes to swoop me away? It was unfair. He doesn't reply, his fists clench at his sides but they quickly loosen when he sees the line of tears in my waterline threatening to spill. "You think I want to marry any of these males? It's not my choice, it's never been my choice." My hands come up to his chest, gripping the cleanly pressed shirt. "You've always had a choice," His hands come to my wrists. I nearly laugh. "Are you serious? Who are you to tell me about choices? You have no idea what it's like to be a fucking doll Eris, I'm a broodmare who's only used for my body and when that's not good enough anymore, I'm nothing." My words come out in a rasp, my fingers clenching his shirt and wrinkling it.
"Don't stand there and tell me I have a choice when you've done nothing to stop me from getting sold off to the highest bidder." My tears are now falling but I don't care, I have too little energy to wipe them away— so he does, his warm hands I wish I didn't find comfort in come to my cheeks and his thumbs brush away the salty tears with the most delicacy I've ever seen him display. "If you won't do anything now I strongly doubt you'll do anything when I'm someone else's," I murmur and his eyes fall into something of terror.
"I'm sorry." He confesses and my heart sputters, I've only ever heard Eris Vanserra apologize for two things in his lifetime, and this was one of them. "You’re right. I should've done more." He confesses. "I tried," He mutters. "I offered to sleep with you— they'd mark you as impure and banish you from the forest house, you could've run away." He explains. "But that's not enough, I should've done more." His hands remain on my cheeks. "Don't you get it?" My hands splay flat on his abdomen. "I don't want more, I just wanted you," I confess and his breathing halts. I think I've truly done myself in, but there was no use holding it any longer. I'll be married off by the end of the week and probably won't see Eris again until our separate children are having playdates. None of this mattered.
"What?" He croaks out and I swallow. "I wanted you," I repeated and I swore his eyes flashed with relief. His hands remain on my face, fingertips slightly warming as he dissects his thoughts. "I thought I made it obvious," I say. "But you never did anyth—" My words are cut off as his lips crash into mine with a foreign passion.
His hands pull me closer and my breathing stops as I realize what's happening. He's kissing me. I move to kiss him back, hands snaking up from his chest and to his shoulders where I wrap around the back of his neck and pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as he backs me up towards the wall until I'm flat against it.
He doesn't back away for a moment like he needs the heat of my lips or he'll freeze without it. His brows crease as he kisses me with intent, not wanting this moment to end in case it gets torn away from him.
"Eris," I pant out as I back away. "I thought you hated me," I admit and his eyes soften. "Hate you?" His hands hold tighter to my jaw. "No bunny, never." His head shakes and he pulls me in again, placing a soft yet lasting kiss on my lips. "Wait," I back away and he immediately halts. "What are you saying?" I try to piece everything together but it's no use.
"I want you." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. "Want me?" I rasp out in pure disbelief. "Need you." He corrects and my heart lurches into my throat, his lips reconnect with mine, and this time his tongue swipes along my bottom lip, hands coming to the bottoms of my thighs as he hoists me up and presses my back to the wall, legs coming back to wrap tightly around his hips as his tongue explores every undiscovered crook and crevice like he needed to memorize me before I disappeared.
"Eris we can't," I whisper into his lips and he shakes his head. "I won't let them have you." He defends and my heart crumbles into two. "This is going to ruin me," I admit, tears still streaming from my eyes. "We'll figure it out." He promises and a lump forms in my throat. He backs away to look at my teary expression, brows creasing as he stares at my disgruntled gaze. "I'll be banished from this court," I murmur. As much as I hated the people here, this is my home. I didn't want to just up and leave. "Noble blood or not I'll be marked a whore, it's out of wedlock." I sighed and a soft smile graced his features as he began to pepper kisses along the side of my face, kissing my salty tears away. "I suppose we'll have to get married then." He hums and I place my hand on his jaw pushing him back. "I'll have Beron off his throne soon, the night court's Spymaster and I have already devised a plan. It'll work." He reassures, running his hand through my hair.
"I'll marry you right now, we can go out and find a priestess and I'll have you as my High Lady." He promised and my brows crease as he describes something too good to be true. "Or we can do all that in the morning," He whispers. "Because it's awfully hard to not need you while you're in this dress." He hums and I smile, my tears gone, all kissed away. "I won't let them have you." He repeats, stressing his words, and I believe him, so I nod.
His lips surge back onto mine and I push away the thoughts of the repercussions and let myself enjoy every moment of this.
His hands grip the underside of my thighs and he pushes me harder against the wall, pressing his chest to mine and kissing me with the purpose I craved. I tighten my hold around the back of his neck and wrap my legs around him, my dress in the way— I need him closer, so much closer.
"Eris, please," I whine and he nods, understanding what I want. He pushes off the wall and carries me to his bed, laying me down on my back, I arch up and his hands pull at the strings of my corset. So many layers, too many between us. I work at the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing his toned, muscular chest.
The way he kissed me was hungry like he's been constraining himself for far too long. He gets my corset undone and I finally feel like I can breathe. Clothes are thrown into every corner of the room as he rips my skirts off and I move to the ties of his pants. Once we're clad in nothing but skin he mounts over me, his heavy, hard cock pressing against my abdomen. It was hot and quick and had everything I needed.
His hand cups over my heat, calloused fingers diving into my folds, adding friction I didn't know I needed. "Eris," I whine and he grunts at the way my name rolls off his tongue, the desperation in my voice making his cock leak pre-cum. "Fuck, you sound so perfect moaning my name." He sighs out, two of his long fingers finding my entrance, and before I can reply they plunge deep inside of me. I bite down on my bottom lip, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes due to the foreign stretch. His fingers were long, and thick, and felt so fucking good.
I yelped as his calloused thumb came down onto my clit, tracing tight circles around it. I hissed at the pain, how he stretched me out, preparing me for his cock. “I’m sorry bunny, I’ll make love to you next time I promise,” He whispers into the shell of my ear and I whimper, the intense feeling consuming me as he curls his fingers, flicking them against my sensitive walls. “Next time?” I ask my words barely a rasp. “That’s right,” He kisses my cheek, getting rid of a tear there. “But right now I need to fuck you, I’ve wanted this for so fuckin’ long I can’t hold back,” He grunts, his voice laced with pure lust. “You understand don’t you bunny?” He says, kissing down my jaw to my neck where he nipped at the sensitive skin, all I can do is nod, praying he doesn’t stop.
His fingers brush over a sensitive, spongy spot and I gasp, my back involuntarily arching at the feeling. “Right there, Eris, my god—” My breath hitched as he toyed with the area. My legs jolted and I was so close, I had never orgasmed off someone’s hand alone before yet here the heir was, finger fucking me right into my high.
“That’s it, baby, need you nice and wet for me,” He hums, sucking marks onto my neck. I whine and my cunt pulsated with an impending release. My nails dig into his large bicep, brows creasing as I teeter on that euphoric high. I clench tighter around his fingers and he does something wicked with his thumb against my clit, pushing me over into my orgasm. Waves of pleasure slam into me as I finally release and reach that climax, and when I do, it’s Eris’ name on my lips.
“That’s it, you did so well,” He praises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I finally came down from my high and his fingers slowed, pulling them from my entrance, lathered in my slick. “Think you’re ready for me?” He asks, lathering his cock with my arousal left on his hand. Words fail me. I couldn’t even look at it without feeling overwhelmed, I was sure he’d split me in half.
“We can go slow,” He promised but gods I didn’t want slow, I wanted to make him feel good.
I shook my head and he arched his brow. “No?” He tilts his head. “I don’t w’na go slow, Eris,” I murmur and he leans closer, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Oh yeah? Tell me what you want then bunny,” He prompts, nudging me with his nose to go on— but his cock was pressed against my heat and it was hot, so fucking hot I felt like I was on fire. “Want— wanna make you feel good,” I mumble and a foxlike grin spreads across his face. His forearm comes down beside my head, propping himself above me, his face mere inches from mine. “Do you now?” The male asks. “And how are you g’na make me feel good?” He questions and I swallow thickly. “Uhm,” I utter, suddenly very shy under his gaze. “Don’t be nervous, I’m not gonna judge I promise,” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Well— it’s just, usually on wedding nights in the autumn court the male feels compulsive to, breed, the female,” I swallow thickly and I swear his amber eyes flash golden for a moment.
“Is that what you want bunny? Want me to breed you?” He says and I flush hot. “Never mind, forget it,” I bring my hands up to my face, covering my red cheeks. “Oh baby it’s too late,” He grabs my wrists in one of his hands, lifting them above my head and pinning them there commandingly. I whimper in reply. “Your safe word is firelight okay?” He says as he kisses down my neck and all I can do is nod. “Good, now turn around for me,” He lets go of my wrists and I do as he says, flipping over onto my stomach, hiking my knees up, and arching my back as much as I could, giving him perfect entrance. He grinned at my obedience, patience waning as he admired how good I was being for him.
The unlit hearth from earlier was now roaring with flames, even though I told Eris to do whatever he wanted with me he was still holding back, redirecting his power elsewhere.
“C’mon Eris, don’t be mean,” I whine as he leans over me, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder blade. “Poor bunny, so needy,” He whispers beside my ear and I grip the sheets in my fists at the demeaning tone of his voice. “Please,” I murmur. “Please what? Say it, baby,” His hands come to my hips, his thumbs kneading the plushness of my ass. “Breed me,” I utter, barely even a whisper but it was enough to make whatever was restraining his break, and he snapped.
His heavy cock slaps against my folds, dragging himself through them, lathering himself in my arousal for easier entrance though I’m certain I was wet enough already.
He aligns his fat tip with my core and without any further warning, he drives into me, pushing the head of his impressive cock deep inside of me. I nearly screamed at the sensation, biting at my lower lip hard enough to cause blood. “Eris,” I mewl, my nails clawing at the sheets. One of his hands reaches over me and intertwines with the back of my palm, his other hand finding purchase at my breast, gripping it harshly, his calloused, large hands kneading it pleasantly.
“Fuck, you’re so gods’ damned tight,” He curses, his forehead resting against the back of my shoulder as he continues to push himself inside of me, and fuck was he so big, I could feel my walls hugging him, could feel every ridge and vein along him as he molded into me. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes at how good it hurt, he had me filled to the brim and there was still more of him.
I throw my head back in exasperation, a moan escaping from the base of my throat. “All of you, want more,” I confess and I feel him smile against the skin of my shoulder blade, before he angles his hips back, pulling out to his fat tip, laying one last kiss to my back then slamming in, hitting home. He groaned at the feeling, tears streamed down my face, falling onto the pillow beneath me as I grip his hand tighter, he reciprocates it but his thrusts don’t slow, no, he’s pounding into me and I loved every second of it.
“Eris— Ah,” My breath hitched. “I can’t, s’too much,” I hiss but he doesn’t stop, his hips drive deeper and I pulse around him. His base slammed into mine, tight balls smacking into my folds as he hammered me from behind. I gasp as his slit brushes over my cervix. Oxygen leaves me and I fist the sheets, screaming his name once I find my voice. “You feel that bunny? Feel me stretching you on my cock?” He hums beside my ear and I struggle to even think about anything but his cock.
He can’t help but continue to knock the area over and over again, it made him feral, and the way I squirmed beneath him had his cock twitching.
Gods he was so close to my womb, so close he could practically release directly into it. “I’m gonna fill you up so fuckin’ full, baby,” He grits out, his hold on my breast tightening. “Please,” I beg, needing him to release me inside. “I’m so close I can’t, I can’t take it—” I cry, tears free flowing as his thrusts grow faster, harder. “That’s too bad my sweet girl,” He purred. “Cause you’re g’na take me until you’re full of my cum, isn’t that right bunny?” He nips at the lobe of my ear and I nod with a pitiful whimper, feeling myself drip onto his cock, he was fucking me stupid.
The sound of his fat cock injecting into me over and over again mixed with the way his tight balls slapped against my folds left my pussy drooling on him. “You just love to milk my cock hm?” He said. “You take me so well, can’t wait to get you so full,” He grunts out and I grow hot, the knot in my stomach tightening.
“Eris I have to, I need to,” I pant out, sweat lining my forehead at how good he was slamming into me, pressing against my cervix every time and rubbing against that sweet, spongy spot. “Not yet,” He orders, and I whine in protest, brows furrowing as I fight off my orgasm and focus on pleasing him, squeezing around his cock, slowly beginning to lift away from him, then push myself back down onto him.
“Oh gods, yes, fuck yourself on my cock,” He groaned in pure ecstasy. I go faster, feeling his cock twitch as he watches the way my ass shakes, his cock disappearing inside my slit as I bounce on him. “Such a good bunny, just want me to come inside you so bad huh?” He taunts and I nod helplessly, mewls lifting from my lips as he grips my breast, my other bouncing due to my gyrations. “Ah, wait, baby,” His voice gets caught in his throat and I smile wildly at the sound. “You sure? About me cumming inside?” He grits out through closed teeth and I nod.
“Fuck yes, Eris. Give me your kids please,” I whimper and it makes him fucking feral. He somehow goes faster, reaching a primal state with an urge to breed, to make me mine in every way he can. “Your belly’s g’na get so round,” He mutters into the shell of my ear and I pant in reply, unable to form coherent words. “Fuck, can’t wait for your tits to start leaking,” He curses and a moan tears through the base of my throat. “I can’t— I’m gonna—” I can’t even finish my sentence before I’m convulsing around him and I reach my climax. He’s quick to follow, he kisses my cervix once more then shoots his release straight into my womb, panting heavily with a groan to match my whine, he paints my walls white and his seed was so fucking hot, like he just set me aflame from the inside out.
“Fuck,” He grunts out, forehead resting on my shoulder. It was a miracle I was still holding myself up, my arms were on the verge of buckling and if he wasn’t cradling my waist I probably would’ve crumbled the moment I found release.
Slowly, he slips out of me, his seed dripping down my thighs as he does so. A whimper slips past my quivering lips as his cock brushes through my folds one last time, then he slowly guides me down onto the bed, heavy breathing filling the room as the fire in the hearth dwindles.
“You did so fucking good for me baby,” He praises, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips that I return with all the energy I can muster, which wasn’t a whole lot. He smiles at this, brushing a strand of hair away from my tear-stained cheeks. “Awe, m’sorry I went so rough bunny, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” He reassured and I shook my head. “No, s’okay, felt good,” I sigh contentedly. “Yeah?” He tilts his head and I nod with a gentle smile. “My gods you’re perfect for me,” He bends down and presses his lips to mine, more passionate this time, conveying all his love in that action. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He murmurs against my lips and I nod, not worrying about what awaits in that ballroom, too preoccupied with enjoying the moment with my soon-to-be husband.
After the sheets were changed and I was dressed in a silky nightgown I was finally able to lay my head on a pillow. It was a mystery how I didn’t fall asleep standing up. Eris slid beneath the covers beside me, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer to him with a small grin.
“Tonight turned out a lot better than I thought,” He joked and I giggled, looking up at him with tired eyes. I look down at his chest, tracing random shapes on his bicep as my smile slowly morphs into a frown. “Hey, what’s wrong baby?” His big hand comes to my jaw, rubbing along my cheek and tilting my head up to him. “Nothing,” I shake my head, burrowing into his warmth. “Talk to me,” He urges, waiting for my response. “Why didn’t you ever show interest before tonight?” I ask softly, glancing up at his eyes that were staring down at me with so much adoration it was almost overwhelming.
“This just feels so surreal, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. It feels wrong to have it,” I explain further and his gaze softens. “You deserve my love and so much more my sweet,” He presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head. “And I couldn’t show any interest 'cause I didn’t want my father taking you away from me,” He confesses and I swallow thickly, my hand intertwining with his. “He won’t take me,” I promise, even if I didn’t know for certain. “No, he won’t, I know that now,” He reassures, pecking my cheek lovingly and I blush.
“My pretty fiancée,” He grins boyishly and I mirror it, finally being with the male I’ve been in love with for decades, I had him in my arms and I wasn’t going to let him go no matter what force tried to take him from me. I’m his as he is mine, and that’s all I could ask for.
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deancaspinefest · 2 days
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Congratulations to all of the incredible artists and authors who participated in the eighth round of the Dean/Cas Pinefest!
Over the past month, 34 authors and 23 artists teamed up to share a collective 1,420,869 words of pine-filled fic and 117 works of art. The talent and artistry of this fandom absolutely floors us every year, and we're so happy that you're all still here sharing your wonderful creations with us 🌲 
With that in mind, we'll definitely be back for more! An official announcement for the 2025 Pinefest -- our ninth year -- will come sometime in July. Follow us here on Tumblr to make sure you don’t miss out on any details!
Under the cut, you’ll find links to every fic & art masterpost from the 2024 round, and you can also check out the collection on Ao3. Make sure to let the authors and artists know how much you enjoyed their creations with a like, kudos, or best of all, a reblog, rec, or comment!
following the light
One Drop, when What You Need is the Ocean
Of Dust, Gunpowder and Holy Water
Books, Pies, and Roommates
A Fairy Tale Cliche!
All in Honesty
Another Kind of Memory
Not our kind of thing
Different Currencies
In The Dog Days
Whatever Makes You Happy
Significant severe
all that we intend
Something Happening Somewhen
Two Princes
Broken (The Worst Is Over Now)
Well, I Never Been To Heaven
The Reel Deal
A Fabulous Evening's Apocalypse
Foxfire
Super Double Bus
Suddenly I See
Lavender Fireflies
Heartland Flyer
Something Blue
Wouldn't It Be Nice
If Only You Return to Me
all out to sea
Dear Father
Opposites Distract
Faking It?
Given to Fly
Take The Long Way Home
A Glacial Pace
All caught up on this year’s crop of pine? There are 694 more works of art and 219 more fics to be found in the previous seven Pinefest rounds -- and if you're into numbers, you can find a full breakdown of this and past year’s stats here!
Until next time… happy pining!
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ma1dita · 2 days
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do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest
🐥
also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)
wc: 860
Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.
Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.
He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.
In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.
Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.
“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.
“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”
“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.
“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”
He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”
“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”
Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.
“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.
“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.
“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”
“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”
“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.
“Luke! Put me down!”
But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.
“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.
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dixons-sunshine · 3 days
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👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈
I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.
Genre: Fluff, some light angst.
Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.
Word count: 2.4k
A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”
“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”
You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.
Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”
You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.
“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.
“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.
You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”
Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”
You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.
“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“It won't work.”
“S'gotta.”
“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.
“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.
“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.
“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”
“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”
“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”
Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”
“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.
“She's not coming back with us.”
“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.
Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”
“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.
“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.
“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.
Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”
“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”
Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.
“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”
That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.
Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.
“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”
Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”
“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”
Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.
“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”
Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.
He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.
Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.
“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.
“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.
“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”
“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”
A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.
“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”
Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.
“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”
“Because I was with the enemy?”
“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”
“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.
“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”
Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”
“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.
Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.
And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“You found him like that?”
Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.
Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”
“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”
A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.
It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.
“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.
You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—
“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”
A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.
“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”
Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.
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phoward89 · 13 hours
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Series Masterlist
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Chapter 5:
Coriolanus is at the PK Base in the communications center, sitting in one of the video phone booths. He's holding the receiver to his ear and watching the staticy small screen; waiting for Tigris to answer. He has so much to tell her. In fact, he's over the moon to tell her all about the love of his life: you. He's absolutely positive that she'll be happy for him.
When the static breaks and then clears slightly to show his cousin, he smiles like a madman. “Tigris, it's so good to see you!” Coriolanus exclaims, so much excitement in his baritone.
Tigris' gentle blue eyes widened slightly at her cousin's chipper demeanor. He was usually sullen during their sporatic calls. “Oh, Coryo, you look so much happier since the last time we talked. Did something happen?” The blonde girl asked, curious to know why her cousin was suddenly in a better mood.
“Yes.” Coryo nodded. Beaming, he blurted out, “I got a girl, Y/N, and she's just a perfect sweet darling.” His baby blues were sparkling with pride as he added in, “We’re serious, have our own place and when I pass the Elite Officer's Examine we’ll be able to leave 8.”
“Oh…” Tigris trailed off, her face full of shock. She wasn't expecting her cousin to be so serious with somebody so soon. Especially after he seemed so heartbroken about never being able to see Lucy Gray ever again.
Was Tigris wrong in her assumption that Coryo loved the songbird? If so, then she truly hopes that he's found love with you. But she also knows that her cousin has the genetics that can easily make him become like his father: General Crassus Snow.
Hearing him say that he's taking an Elite Officer's Exam makes her skin crawl. Tigris knows how cold the officers are in the various branches of Panem's military; she doesn't want her sweet cousin to be turned into a cold, heartless, hateful man to be used as a tool for the country.
A country that kills tweens and teens for entertainment disguised as punishment. Gosh, everything about Panem makes Tigris sick. And to think that her cousin, her sweet little Coryo who's a good person, could be used in a way to support the country's propaganda and skewed outlook bothers her. Makes her blood freeze up in her veins.
“Isn’t it great news, Tigris?” The platinum blonde peacekeeper asked, fishing for praises.
“Yes, yes it is, Coryo.” Tigris replied, her smile a bit too tight, too forced, and her voice a bit flat.
Coryo's face fell at his cousin's overly fake reply. “I thought you'd be happy for me Tigris.”
“I am happy for you, Coryo. I am.” Tigris weakly assured her cousin.
“I've found somebody that makes me happy, who needs me; makes me feel powerful, and I'm one step closer to getting us back home, to the Capitol. But, you don't sound as happy about it as you claim to be.”
“Coryo…” Tigris sighed, trying to find the right words to tell him about the hardships that have fallen upon their family within the last few weeks.
“Is Grandma’am around?” Asked the platinum peacekeeper. “I'm sure that she'd be happy to hear about my accomplishments.”
“Coryo, Grandma'am’s in hospice.” Tigris revealed, her tone sad as her face twitched with sorrow.
“Hospice! What do you mean she's in hospice? She was fine a month ago, what the hell did you do to her, Tigris?!”
“Me? Oh, Coriolanus, do you hear yourself right now?” The blonde aspiring fashionista snipped. Shaking her head, Tigris started to explain, “Grandma’am just shut down and started to wither away after we lost the penthouse-”
Coriolanus icy eyes popped out of his head. “Y-you lost the penthouse?! When were you going to tell me this, Tigris? Huh?”
“The back taxes were just too much to pay, so the penthouse was put on the market. But, Pluribus is letting me stay in the apartment above his club.”
“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Grandma'am being admitted to hospice care?”
“Coryo, having to declare bankruptcy and sell the penthouse; letting all of the Capitol know that the Snow's are poor just broke her dear old heart.”
“She's dying from a broken heart? Really?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Tigris nods. “The doctor said that Grandma’am lost the will to live; that it'll only be a short matter of time before she goes. And she's already in a catatonic state.”
“Are you still working for Fabricia Whatnot?” Coryo asked, his baritone colder than it had been mere minutes ago.
“Yes, I'm still working for her.” His cousin confirms with a nod.
“Good, because I won't be sending half of my pay to you anymore. The Grandma’am will be dead soon, due to her own pride and self induced delusions, and my money, honestly, is better suited taking care of my girl here in 8.” Coriolanus told Tigris in a chilly tone. One so chilly that it'd cause hell to freeze over.
“Coryo-” Tigris began, confusion all over her makeup slathered face, only to be cut off by Coriolanus’ icily steady voice saying, “I'm all my girl’s got, Tigris. I have to take care of her.” Looking at his cousin like he didn't even know her anymore, he remarked, “Unlike you, Y/N doesn't lie to me about how bad things are. At least she's honest, but you've had to have known for months about the past due back taxes on the penthouse and you never said a damn word to me about it.”
“Coryo…I didn't want you to worry about us. I was taking care of everything.”
“Time’s about up, Tigris.” The platinum peacekeeper announced, feeling betrayed and lied to by his cousin, who he viewed as more of a sister then a cousin.
“Coriolanus, you sound just like your father right now.” Tigris pointed out, her heart breaking at hearing the frostiness in his baritone and seeing cold deadness in his eyes.
“Well, I am his son. Perhaps I'll follow in his footsteps; rise to military greatness.” Private Snow told his cousin before saying a curt goodbye and hanging up on her.
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It's getting close to the time that Coryo usually comes home from work and you're in the small kitchenette making dinner. It's nothing too fancy, just a simple stew. But your platinum peacekeeper never complained about what you made. He always ate his supper with a smile plastered on his face. In fact, he'd usually get seconds; pester you into eating another share too (he always said it was in order to build up your strength so you'll heal faster).
You're stirring the pot, making sure that nothing sticks to the bottom, whenever a faint knock appears at your door. You almost don't hear it over the sound of the radio, that's how light the knock is. Not wanting the stew you worked so hard on this afternoon to burn, you turn off the stove before going to answer the door.
“Ashlie, what're you doing here?” You asked your brother’s former girlfriend as she stood in front of you.
“Some of the girls at the factory are worried about you; I said I'd stop by and check up on you after my shift.” Ashlie answered as you heard the sound of Coryo's boots clambering up the building’s staircase.
Nodding, you simply said, “I'm fine.”
“Are you, Y/N?” Ashlie pressed.
Nice of her to worry about you now, but where was she before?
“There's been rumors that you've taken up with that blonde peacekeeper. That he's been living with you.” Ashlie all but hissed in a shameful tone.
“It's not a rumor.” You told her while noticing Coryo's tall denim clad frame appear at the top of the stairs, right down the hall.
“Look, Y/N, I'm sorry about not being around as often as I should, but if you need help gettin’ away from that peacekeeper I'm sure that Declan can help smuggle you out of the district.”
Smuggle you out where? You don't have any money and you're all alone. How are you going to survive hiding out in another district? Districts you're sure are just as bad if not worse than 8. The poor, lower end districts are all clumped together and, frankly, they seem to get worse and worse as you start going between them.
At least with Coryo your rent's paid, you've got enough food to eat, and you're not cold anymore. He’s decent company, when he's not in a condescending mood, and he seems to be devoted to you despite not knowing you that long. With Coryo you're comfortable for the first time in a long time. For once since moving to 8 you're not tempted to do a swan dive off the bridge into the toxic river surrounding the district.
You'll take your chances with your peacekeeper.
Shaking your head, as Coriolanus trudged down the hall, you told Ashlie, “I'm fine here with Coryo. He takes good care of me, so you don't need to worry.”
“And what happens when he gets bored of you; tosses you aside for another girl?” Ashlie asked as your boyfriend got closer. “Y/N, sweetheart, don't be a fool and trust him. He's a Peacekeeper for Christ’s sakes.” Berates your once sister. “One bred straight from the Capitol as I understand too.” The brunette spat out in disgust, right as your platinum peacekeeper appeared behind the girl that's slandering him.
“Darling, is this ratty whore bothering you?” Coryo coldly asked, his icy eyes narrowed at the girl blocking his way into the apartment, as he came to a stop right by the door.
His frosty timbre startles Ashlie; has her jumping out of her skin. Coryo's tone of voice doesn't bother you one bit. Why should it? His coldness isn't aimed at you.
“She was just leaving.” You assure your boyfriend, only to give Ashlie a look that reads ‘you need to go, now'.
“Well the girls at the factory are worried about you; hopefully you'll be able to return to work soon.” Ashlie remarked instead of leaving, like she should’ve done.
“She won't be returning to work at the factory.” Coryo bluntly announced, pushing himself by Ashlie and literally shoving you inside of the apartment. He blocked your view with his tall, sinewy frame while standing right in the doorway.
The platinum blonde's head lifted up in superiority. His glacier blue eyes bore into the former Seam girl with disdain as he explained, “As Y/N’s man, I take care of her and pride myself in treating her the way a proper Capitol born man treats his girl.” Gripping the door so hard that the wood began to splinter and crack, he barked out, “You're not needed around here. She's got me, so leave or else I'll bring you to base and turn you in as a rebel.”
Ashlie's Seam grey eyes widened in fear and horror at hearing Coriolanus’ words. With the rumors that she's heard about you being kept under lock and key by the platinum blonde peacekeeper, who by now everyone knew was sent from the Capitol; was a second generation military man, Ashlie was starting to worry about you. And when the girls that worked with you on the looms in the PK uniform factory’s weaving room started to express their worries to Ashlie, well she decided to pay you a visit.
Offer you some much needed support. A lifeline out of the predicament you're in.
But the brunette wasn't expecting you to turn down her help, to insist on staying with your oppressor. She also didn't think she'd be threatened by said oppressor, the pretty boy peacekeeper from hell itself. Ashlie feared for both her own safety and yours.
Maybe she should've came around more often, then maybe you wouldn't have become such easy prey for a peacekeeper with a cold hateful glint in his eyes.
“And the next time you show up to my house I'll have you hanged off the bridge’s trestle.” Coriolanus darkly promised, his face a mask showing no feelings, before slamming the door shut in Ashlie's face.
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Coryo was quiet as he shed his coat, hanging it up on the hook near the door. “I made stew. I'll go dip it up.” You told him while he began to unlace his boots.
“It smells good, darling.” Coriolanus complimented, slipping out of his black boots, as you grabbed some bowls from the cabinet.
“You say that about everything I make.” You teased, portioning out the stew into a pair of bowls as Coryo pulled off his denim fatigue shirt.
Walking over to the table and laying his denim overshirt on the back of his chair, the platinum blonde simply said, “Because it's true.”
The atmosphere in the room wasn't heavy per say, but it wasn't light either. You felt like something happened today, something to put him in a sort of mood. And not a good one either. You really didn't want to stoke his mood into a roaring fire of unliveable sassy attitude, so you didn't say a teasing word back to him.
No, you just carried the bowls of stew over to the small table as Coryo took his seat at it. You couldn't help, but slip on a smile at the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dwarfing the sorry excuse for a kitchen table you had. Hell, the table looked more like a small school desk as he sat at it.
Silently, Coryo followed your every move with his icy eyes. He watched as you set the food on the table before fetching the bottle of milk from the fridge. Coryo knows how luxurious fresh milk is, so he's proud that he can buy it for you. He himself went without it for so many years in the Capitol.
The Snow family always seemed to go without; to struggle within the safe borders of the Capitol. Something that he was supposed to change. Coriolanus was supposed to dig his family out of poverty, but instead his family's been torn apart.
All because Tigris lied to him about how bad things really were.
Fuck!
He would've found a way to get her the money for the back taxes, to avoid a foreclosure on the Snow ancestral home, if she would've only told him that she couldn't pay.
How could Tigris, his own cousin, do that to Grandma’am; to him? And most of all to you.
You!
Who he promised to whisk away to the Capitol once he was able to. Now where are the both of you going to go when he gets clearance as an Elite Officer to return home: to the Capitol? He sure as hell can't bring you to the above club shoebox apartment Pluribus gave Tigris.
And to think that his Grandma’am's dying from a broken heart because her home was taken from her. Her beloved rooftop rose garden that was her joy is now withered if not destroyed by the highest bidder. To think that the old lady's in hospice, due to no will to live, all because Tigris couldn't be honest about the back taxes.
Damnit, fucking bitch should've worked a few corners to come up with the money. Anything to pay the past due taxes; keep the Snow family penthouse in the Snow family.
Where it belongs.
The sound of the milk glasses lightly clinking against the warped wooden table tore Coriolanus out of his thoughts. Watching you sit down next to him, he grabbed his spoon and told you, “Darling, let's promise not to lie to each other. Shall we?”
Oh boy, something definitely happened to him today. You didn't know what, but his remark about lying to each other tipped you off that he was lied to and he's upset about it.
Picking up your own spoon, you tell him, “I promise I won't lie to you, Coryo.”
“And I won't lie to you, Y/N. Which is why I have to tell you something very unsettling.”
Something very unsettling? What the hell did he do, shoot somebody during target practice? Murder somebody for a spot on the Elite Officer's Examine roster? Hell, the suspense is killing you.
Not literally, just figuratively.
“Today I talked to my cousin, Tigris, on the phone in the base’s communications center and I learned that things are worse than I thought they were back home: in the Capitol.” He revealed in between eating his stew.
Having a bad feeling, you asked, “What's wrong, Coryo?”
“The Snow penthouse has been seized and put into foreclosure for unpaid back taxes.” Coryo spat out, his eyes full of anger, as he held his spoon so hard that it was about to bend between his fingers.
His family home foreclosed due to back taxes. Oh boy… You weren't expecting to hear that. You can only imagine how high priced the taxes are in the Capitol considering how pricey things are in the districts. Capitol City, Panem is full of rich elites or wannabe rich elites, so…Yea…The price tag on things in the Gem of Panem, the Capitol, is surely higher than in the rest of the country.
“Tigris told me that everything was fine, but she lied.” Shaking his head, he tossed his spoon in his bowl, causing a loud clang to ring out. “I've been sending home money, assuming that Tigris was using it wisely, but now I don't even know what she did with it.” Reaching for his milk glass, he dryly added, “She didn't pay the taxes, that much I know.”
Reaching forward and placing your hand on top of his, you gave him an empathetic look. You felt for him, for his family. “Coryo, I'm sorry she lied; made you think everything’s ok when it isn't.”
Your boyfriend threads your fingers together, holding your hand, as he sips on his milk. He can't help, but feel lucky to have you. You're being so supportive and understanding about his family's fall from grace.
About him losing the Snow ancestral home. The home that he was supposed to take you to.
Placing his glass down after drinking from it, Coryo shook his head while gritting out, “And now Grandma’am's in hospice, dying of a broken heart, because she was forced out of her home.”
Poor Coryo…
To lose his home, his grandma, and to be lied to by his cousin.
“Seems like we've got more in common than what meets the eye.” You told him, letting him know that you sympathized with his situation.
“It seems we do, darling.” Coryo nodded. Picking his spoon up and scooping a portion of stew out of his bowl, he repeated, “It seems we do.”
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You're washing the dishes whenever you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. Coryo's right behind you, hanging on you, but you don't pay him any mind. You just keep on washing the bowl in your hand with the sponge- a sponge that has seen better days.
Your boyfriend nuzzles his nose into your temple, inhaling your scent. Kissing your cheek, he swears, “I promise, once I'm an officer and get into a wealthy position I'll buy back our home. We'll live in it once again.”
“Don't make promises that you can't keep, Coryo.” You advised him, rinsing out the bowl and setting it aside on the makeshift drying rack (which was a cookie cooling rack resting on a dishtowel).
“I intend to keep that promise, baby.” He told you in between peppering kisses up and down your neck.
“Coryo, stop that. I still have dishes to do.” You sighed, trying and failing to wiggle out of his hold while starting on the second dirty bowl.
“One day when I become President and make you my First Lady you won't ever have to lift a finger to wash a dish ever again.” Coryo smoothly murmured, kissing the sweet spot right below your ear.
“To make me your First Lady you'll have to marry me, Mister President.” You sarcastically pointed out, rinsing soap suds and bubbles out of the bowl.
You're placing the bowl onto the drying rack whenever Coryo spins you around. Tipping your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his baby blues, he seriously tells you, “Once I get my officer’s stripes I'm going to marry you.”
The weight of his words comes crashing down on your head like an anvil in an old cartoon. “You really want to marry me?” You asked, not quite believing the situation to be real.
You're just some district girl that he got into trouble and felt pity for. Yes, he takes care of you, but making you his wife's a whole other story. That's a lifetime commitment considering divorce was abolished in the early years of Panem's creation- which was after the end of both WW3 and the 2nd Civil War, which coincided.
“Yes, baby.” The platinum blonde nodded. A wide smile spread across his face as he cemented his fate with the words of, “I'm going to marry you and give you the life that we both deserve as Snows once I get my officer's commission.”
“You know, people in the districts have different ceremonies then Capitolites do for marriages.” You informed him; knowing that you're going down a path you can't turn off of as you do. “Couples in 12 do a toasting by breaking bread at the hearth over a fire they stoke.”
“Too bad we don't have a fireplace.” Coriolanus seriously pouted.
Oh wow, he's serious about this marriage thing. Lucky you.
“Yes, too bad.” You half heartedly agreed with him. Resting your hands on his chest, you decided to explain what you learned about weddings in District 8. “I've heard that here in 8 most weddings are typically held on Tuesdays and Thursdays in November and December.”
Your boyfriend’s brow rose with interest. “December you say?”
“Yes.” You confirm as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The bride sews her own dress, which is typically blue or purple, and makes a large amount of food for the guests who stay for dinner and then a late supper. While family and friends are gathered at the house, the couple’s joined hands are bound by a strip of cloth; then they recite words or poetry to complete the ritual.”
“And this ritual’s binding in the eyes of District 8?” Coriolanus asked, holding your gaze with his icy eyes. Eyes that were filled with both trepidation and hope.
“It's binding in all of the districts. I'm not sure about the Capitol tho.”
Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he simply said, “Mary me on Thursday. I'll bring Sejanus home with me and we'll do the 8 ceremony.”
Believing it impossible to marry so soon, you react with, “But that's in 2 days, Coryo. I'll barely have enough time to make a dress. Plus I have to cook food.”
Bringing his other hand up to your face, so he was cradling it between his large calloused hands, the platinum blonde told you, “I'll bring home some material for your dress tomorrow and the only guest you need to cook for is Sejanus. You don't need to cook up our entire pantry.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Let me take care of you; marry me, baby.”
If you say yes to this sudden spur of the moment wedding you'll be giving up your freedom. In the districts’ eyes you'll become Mrs. Snow, wife of a Peacekeeper. One who's certain he'll become an Elite Officer. Is that what you want?
Hell…
You honestly don't even know what you want. But you do know that you refuse to go cold and hungry ever again because you're alone and can barely get by.
So, for survival purposes, you give Coryo a smile and tell him, “I’ll marry you.”
Without warning, Coryo kisses you. His lips hungrily pressed against yours, as if he was a man starved and his only fulfillment came from your mouth. You moved your lips against his, which only caused him to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers twisted and dug into his white T-shirt as your tongues intimately danced while your lips clashed, pushing and pulling for purchase.
You let out a little breathless sigh as Coryo broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so the two of you could catch your breath.
Coryo's icy blue eyes were nearly black with lust as he looked into the windows of your soul. His large hands still cup your face as he confessed, “I’d love nothing more than to bring you to our bed and fuck you right now, but since we're to be married in 2 days I'll wait til the wedding night.”
“Oh, so you're going to make an honest woman out of me first before you corrupt me?” You asked, your tone a bit light and teasing.
What difference was a couple of days? It wasn't like you're from a rich aristocratic family that needs to see the sheets in the morning for proof of innocence lost and consummation.of marriage. You're a district girl, nobody in the districts care about purity til marriage, etc.
Besides, even before you agreed to marry him you knew you'd be fucking Coriolanus. He's your boyfriend, it comes with the territory. The only question was when.
Now you have your answer: this Thursday night- your district style wedding night.
Leaning his forehead against yours, Coryo steadfastly declared, “You can't corrupt someone who's willing to drink from the silver cup, my darling.”
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
70 notes · View notes
syrupfog · 17 hours
Text
Ahhhhh. Soulmates AU where Sanji has built his whole life around the fact that somewhere out there he has a soulmate. 
Like, it’s the only thing that kept him going, kept him moving forward. An entire childhood of being told by his siblings, by his father, that he’s unloveable—
And the only proof he has, after his mum’s gone, is that somewhere out there is someone who’s DESTINED to love him. The universe has SWORN it. 
Even when he’s getting bruised and bloodied and told he’s worthless from the siblings who have all the love of their father.
Even when he spends his days in a dungeon, the light filtering in from the high window barely visible through his iron helmet, alone and cold. 
Even when he’s slowly dying from starvation, stranded on a rock. 
The one truth Sanji knows is that he has someone who loves him.
He spends his time at the Baratie flirting with anything that moves, but is thoroughly aware underneath it all that he’s worthless. That’s been drilled into him since birth. 
If he’s able to make a woman happy for a moment, then he will, but that’s not for his own sake.
He feels confident, having had years to think on it, that there is one single person in the world who CAN love him. And Sanji feels sorry for them, because he knows he doesn’t deserve that love, but all the same he selfishly looks forward to finding them.
And then— he meets him. 
It’s everything the books — and his mum — described it as. The world bursting into colour, the feeling of RIGHTNESS slotting into place. The man (that’s surprising) has green hair and three earrings and three swords and it feels like fate. It IS fate.
And then the man — Zoro — green hair and three earrings and the only thing Sanji has ever wanted, the person he’s centred his whole life around — he tells Sanji that he doesn’t believe in soulmates. Doesn’t want the universe to be in charge of his own destiny.
And Sanji breaks. 
He— doesn’t know what to do with his life now. He joins the crew because Luffy asks, because the only thing he clings to right now is that SOMEONE wants him. But. 
Zoro doesn’t. 
His soulmate. 
The only one MEANT for him. 
And what does that say about Sanji?
He hates Zoro. HATES. 
He fights him at every chance. Wages war with words and kicks. 
He’s drowning inside. Unmoored. The knowledge that he’s entirely unloveable is a burden too great to bear. 
They sail onward and Sanji cooks and fights and cooks and fights and drowns.
Something shifts at Thriller Bark. 
Sanji’s there when Zoro attempts to sacrifice himself. And Sanji HATES him for it. He hates him because in all this time traveling together, try as he might, hate him as much as he does, Sanji’s never been able to stop loving him.
And if anyone’s going to die for this fucking crew, it’s going to be the one who’s so worthless he cant even have a soulmate who loves him back. 
He knocks Zoro out of the way, faces Kuma head on. 
The pain in his side a moment later feels like the Baratie betrayal all over again
Later, on the ship keeping vigil at Zoro’s bedside, he waits until Chopper’s gone and then weeps, face red and blotchy, ugly loud wails as he falls apart, staining the sheets with tears and snot. It should’ve been him. 
He doesn’t stop until a hand wraps around his wrist.
“Cook,” Zoro says, voice painfully rough. “Why the fuck— did you do that?” 
Sanji tries to hide his tears, replace them with that familiar anger. “What?” he asks. “Try to keep you alive?” 
“No,” says Zoro. “Fucking— sacrifice yourself.” 
Sanji frowns. “I’m the best option.”
Zoro, injured as he is, gapes at him. “You’re the cook,” he says. “We need you.” 
Sanji tries to pull his wrist from Zoro grasp. “You need a cook,” he says. “You can find another.” 
“You’re crew,” Zoro says. 
“You can FIND. ANOTHER.” Sanji grits.
“No, we CAN’T,” Zoro yells, grip tightening. 
“You already THREW ME AWAY!” Sanji screams. 
Zoro’s fingers go slack and Sanji gets up and runs from the room.
It’s another week before Zoro can leave the infirmary but when he does, Sanji finds himself cornered in the kitchen, fast enough he can’t plan an escape. 
Zoro’s face is set, serious, Sanji’s gearing up for a fight despite Zoro’s injuries. 
He storms in and pushes Sanji up against the back wall. “I was WRONG,” he says, arms bracketing Sanji in. 
“Wh— no,” Sanji squeaks, trying to find a way around him. 
“Yes I WAS,” Zoro emphasises. “Franky says I was stupid and self protective, but I lied. I’ve loved you from the moment I fucking saw you.”
“No, you DIDN’T,” Sanji says, a rushing in his ears as he looks anywhere but AT Zoro. “Because I’m UNLOVEABLE.” 
Zoro’s breath hitches, and he grabs Sanji’s chin in his hand, forcing him none too gently face to face. 
“You’re fucking not,” he snarls. “Because *I* love you.”
Sanji REALLY can’t handle this. “Stop,” he pleads. “You can’t— it’s okay. I’ve always known that I’m worthless, you don’t have to try to convince me otherwise.” You already did, he thinks. “Just— I can’t handle you lying like this. To me.”
“You’re not—“ Zoro looks at him in shock. “You’re not WORTHLESS, Cook, what the hell? And you’re not unloveable, you’re not any of that shit! I thought you’d be a distraction from my dream, that’s why I said that shit, and I’m SORRY. But I was fucking wrong.”
Sanji is still shaking his head — or he’s just plain shaking now— because it’s too late. He KNOWS this is who he is, doesn’t understand why Zoro is LYING. 
“It’s okay,” he says, making eye contact, placating. “I won’t let this — me— interfere with protecting the crew.”
Zoro growls and lunges forward, capturing Sanji’s lips in a bruising kiss. It hurts, Sanji gasps into his mouth, it— feels like truth. 
“I love you,” Zoro says, low. “Tell me how I can prove it.” 
Sanji chases the kiss before recovering. “I don’t know,” he says, small, uncertain.
Zoro grasps his arms, his waist, his neck, like a desperate man searching, he settles on cupping Sanji’s face, leaning his forehead against him. “I’ll prove it,” he says. “Something in your head is fucked up, Cook, it’s wrong. You’re loved. I fucking swear it.”
Sanji’s still shaking, tears rushing unbidden to his eyes. He doesn’t get it but — he wants it. Desperately he wants it. “Tell me again,” he says, voice small, scared. 
“I love you,” Zoro says. “I’m sorry. I love you.” 
Like a mantra. 
Sanji kisses him, afraid to initiate, but Zoro responds with a vengeance. “
I love you,” Zoro says again, like a prayer. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you.” Someday, Sanji will know it intrinsically. But for now it’s good enough to hear it. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you.”
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queenshelby · 2 days
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 32: Arrest
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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Without giving it a second thought, Cillian sought out his son who he knew was at university that day , planning on confronting him about it. His gut feeling told him that Max had something to do with the charge and, as he drove to university, the erratic beat of the rain drummed furiously against the roof of the car, matching the thundering of his own heart. Anxiety and anger built inside him as a thousand different scenarios played out in his head.
What his gut feeling failed to foresee however is that Max had, just as always, been manipulated by his mother who, according to Max himself, had been using the car for the past few weeks.
"Dad, what is going on?" he wanted to know , his eyes narrowing in suspicion, his body language stiff and defensive as his father stood in front of him, questioning him.
"Mum said that her card had been stolen and I figured that you wouldn't mind if she used yours. She was just going to get some groceries and you had her other accounts blocked, so I just gave it to her and told her to be reasonable, you know," Max explained after Cillian had confronted him about the charges in Chelsea. "And you know that I don't have a license at the moment, so I am not going to drive a brand-new car. Mum has been using it for weeks. She fucking paid for it, so why not," Max continued, his eyes wide and innocent, completely unaware of the betrayal that his mother had committed.
Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, frustration building up in his chest. "Max, this is serious. Are you sure she's been using the car all this time?" Cillian told his son, his voice heavy with disappointment and anger.
"Yes, dad! She has been in London for ages now. She didn't want me to tell you because of all that has been happening and since I didn't talk to you for weeks anyway, I didn't think it was an odd request,"  Max stated, still looking at his father with wide, innocent eyes, completely oblivious to the impact his words had on him.
Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers again. He felt like he was being pulled in every direction, unable to find solid ground, unable to make sense of the senseless situation.
"Max, we need to talk. And then we need to go to the police, together!" Cillian announced, determination shining in his sharp blue eyes as he processed the sudden turn of events.
Max frowned, hesitating for a moment before nodding reluctantly.
"To the police? Why?" Max asked, surprise lacing his words as he glanced nervously at his father.
Cillian turned to his son, meeting his eyes, the gravity of the situation heavy in his gaze.
"I think that your mother has been stalking Y/N and I think that she was responsible for the accident," Cillian explained quietly, donning a serious expression that Max had never seen before.
Max shook his head, confusion drawing his brows together. "Mum wouldn't do this kind of thing, dad!" he denied, his voice trembling ever so slightly, with a hint of disbelief lingering behind each word that left his mouth.
But Cillian disagreed, his mind set on revealing the truth about Danielle's actions. "Max, listen to me," Cillian tried but Max cut him off.
"No!  I won't listen to you say these things about her! Mum is a good person, she would never hurt anyone," Max insisted, anger and panic bubbling inside him. He couldn't believe what his father was suggesting. Danielle was his mother, his rock, his safe haven. She was the one person he could always rely on, the one person who had always been there for him, no matter what. The idea that she could be capable of such a heinous act was unfathomable.
"Max, your mother has been trying to trap me in this marriage for a long time and  when that didn't work for her anymore and I filed for divorce, she started targeting Y/N. I know it sounds far-fetched, but you have to trust me on this," Cillian pleaded, grasping for straws.
Max sneered, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at his father. "How convenient. You're blaming her now that you've found yourself someone else," Max exclaimed accusingly.
"Y/N told me about the car following her, Max. I checked and it is the same make and model your mother bought for you," Cillian retorted, trying to break through Max's resistance.
"Y/N is probably lying to get rid of mum because of you. Because she doesn't want the baggage that comes with having an ex-wife and all,"  Max declared, frustration and protectiveness coursing through him.
Cillian sighed, trying to keep his patience in check. "Look, Max. I know it's hard to accept but we have to face the facts. Your mother has become increasingly unstable over the past few months and her behavior has become increasingly erratic. Believe me, I wish it wasn't the case, but I am worried, not only about Y/N's safety, but also yours," Cillian  assured Max, who looked away, unable to meet his father's gaze.
"So you are trying to get mum locked up? Is that it?"  Max asked finally, his eyes focused on anything but his father.
Cillian reached out to put a reassuring hand on Max's shoulder, but he recoiled at the touch. Cillian sighed and dropped his arm to his side.
"No Max, I am trying to get her the help she needs while, at the same time, making sure that Y/N and you are safe!" Cillian replied emphatically, frustration creeping into his voice as he raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I know it's hard for you to hear this, but we can't ignore it anymore."
Max sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally conceded defeat. "You ruined everything by getting involved with Y/N! So, I hope you are happy, dad!"  Max spat, disgust heavy in his voice, and Cillian's heart ached. He hated that their relationship had come to this, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing while Danielle's erratic behavior continued.
"Max, I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you or your mother," Cillian whispered, his voice thick with regret. "But I can't deny my feelings for Y/N either. I'm sorry."
Max shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I don't want to hear it," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Just fucking go!" 
Cillian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. I will leave," Cillian conceded but Max was beyond reasoning at this point. He had made up his mind, and there was no changing it. "I hate you," he muttered, turning on his heel and storming off.
Cillian watched him go, his heart heavy with sadness, regret and uncertainty.
"Max," he called after him. "Max, please, don't leave like this."
But Max did not look back. Instead, he quickened his pace, disappearing around a corner, leaving Cillian standing alone, the cool wind biting at his exposed skin, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
As he stared at the empty space where his son had just been, he knew that he had to press on. For Y/N, for Max. For himself.
With that in mind, he made his way to the station , determination fueling his steps. He needed to speak to the detective in charge of the case, to share his suspicions, to point out the inconsistencies, to expose the danger that Danielle posed and to plea for their protection.
Upon arriving at the station, Cillian was greeted with a flurry of activity. Police officers rushed back and forth, the buzz of their radios and their hushed conversations filling the air, creating an almost suffocating level of tension. He approached the front desk, a pleasant-looking woman greeted him, inquiring how she could assist.
He explained why he had come, and after a brief moment of discussion, the receptionist summoned the investigator responsible for your case and it was then and there that an arrest warrant against Danielle had been issued.
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janeyseymour · 1 day
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La Cosa Nostra- pt 7
Cowritten with @schemmentis
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
Summary: It's a nice easy Saturday, and then you head to Church on Sunday- the Feds following you the entire time.
WC: 1.8k
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Saturday rolls around, and your little ones are absolutely delighted to see both you and Melissa on your mother’s doorstep to pick them up.
“Mam! Mommy!” Cat shouts as she whips the door open. Rosie echoes her words as she all but launches herself at you.
“Hi, my little love,” you chuckle as you crouch down to be at eye level with her. “How was your night with Nan and Pop?”
“So good!” Rosie grins as you step further into the house. Melissa brings Cat to her own hip, delighted to be reunited with her girls once again.
“Pop let us have ice cream for dinner!” Cat giggles.
At that, you look at your father who is relaxing in his recliner. His eyes go wide, and they look everywhere but you.
“Dad,” you scold him.
“It was pistachio,” he shrugs. “That’s a fruit.”
“It’s a nut, and so are you,” you tell your father as you roll your eyes.
“Oi, Y/N,” your mother breathes from her place on the couch. “Let’s not forget the dozens of times your father let you and your siblings have ice cream for dinner.”
“That’s different! And you were always up in arms over it,” you say to your mother.
She shrugs. “You kids turned out okay, didn’t you? You own one of the most successful salons in the city, you have a beautiful wife, and absolutely precious twins. Besides, we’re grandparents now- we give the kids sugar and then send ‘em home with you.”
“What did you give them before we got here?” Melissa raises a brow.
Both of your parents just smirk.
“Cat, what did Nan and Pop give the two of you for breakfast?” the redhead asks slowly, cautiously.
“Cinnamon buns with ice cream!” Your oldest twin’s eyes sparkle with pure glee.
“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. You switch to your native tongue to tell your parents what you really think of this situation they’ve put you in.
“Oh lighten up,” your mam tells you. “Just take ‘em to the park and have ‘em run around there for a few hours. That’s what dad always did.”
“Damn right,” your father chuckles from his place.
So after bidding adieu to your parents, you and your family end up at the local park. Cat and Rosie spend the afternoon running around in circles, having you chase them, begging you to push them on the swings, giggling with all of the glee and innocence that five year olds should have. When more kids start to make their way into the little fenced area, you and your wife take a step back and find a park bench to sit on. Neither of your eyes leave your girls, but it’s nice to have a break when you’re both already exhausted enough. Even with last night, where you were both in bed by ten and sleeping in until much later than either of you had expected, the turn of events that your life has taken has the both of you still pretty much running on fumes.
“We are so lucky to have those little munchkins,” you sigh softly as you let your head rest on Melissa’s shoulder.
“We really are,” your wife smiles as she watches Rosie tag Cat.
The two of them have brought so much joy into your life. Your eyes glaze over as you’re taken back to so many of the big events that have happened in this park. You recall the day that the two of you simply came down here on a walk and the warmth of the sun as you held hands and strolled through the park. Melissa told you that she loved you that day. You remember this exact bench was where you felt your babies kick for the first time and the absolutely beaming smile that could light up the entirety of center city that your wife gave you as she felt it too. 
You’re taken back to the first time you brought your girls here at just a few months old- both you and your wife going stir crazy as you stayed inside and with the girls for the longest time. You brought your wife here the day that her restaurant opened, just to give her a sense of normalcy with all of the chaos that had taken place trying to get everything in order to open on time. 
You’re only brought back to the present when Rosie comes climbing into your lap and Cat climbs into Melissa’s. You both instinctively press kisses to your girls’ heads and sigh in content.
“All tuckered out?” you chuckle as the younger of your twins exhales deeply and her fingers run through your hair. You feel her nod, and you see Cat nod into Melissa’s neck.
“Can we go home and watch a movie?” Your eldest asks your wife quietly.
The two of you share a look before nodding. “That sounds like a great idea, sweetheart.”
As you’re getting the girls into the car and driving home, you miss the way that Agent Danik and Agent Shaw are tracking your every move.
The sleek, black, undercover car blends in well. You don't notice it trailing a few cars behind you. You don't notice it idling at the end of the street as you and your wife get your girls out of their car seats and safely inside your home.
You spend the evening curled on your couch. The twins splaying their tiny bodies haphazardly across both you and your wife's laps and slipping in the scant spaces between you as they start drifting to sleep. 
“Maybe we need to give them sugar more often.” You faux whisper to Melissa as you both leave the girls’ room after laying them down. “They didn't even ask for bedtime stories.”
“They get enough sugar between your parents and mine.” Melissa lightly hits your arm. “‘Sides, you'd miss bedtime stories after a while. You love doin’ the silly voices to make ‘em laugh.”
“Yeah,” You sigh. “You're right. I would.”
Normally, you and Melissa would return to your comfortable couch. At least for an hour or two to fully unwind before retiring for the night. Tonight, though, you both set wordlessly about your night time routine. You've caught up on sleep, for the most part. Still, there's a bit of extra exhaustion. Plus, tomorrow is Sunday, which means early morning to make Mass on time and breakfast with Barbara and Gerald afterward. 
You happily settle into your bed once you're ready for the night. Curled beneath your sheets, you hold a book open with one hand while your other arm is wrapped securely around your wife. The television in the room, with the volume low, playing one of her shows. 
You think Melissa has drifted to sleep already when you hear her voice. It's soft, and laced with her tiredness, but it’s clear. “It’ll pass, yeah? All this?”
You shut your book without worrying about your bookmark. Blindly, you set it to the nightstand. You lay down completely, wrapping both arms around your wife and kissing her cheek and shoulder. 
“It will.” You answer with all the confidence you have. “It’ll pass and everything’ll go back to how it’s ‘spose to be.”
The two of you get as much rest as possible given the circumstances. But then there’s a little hand on your face, and this time it’s Rosie who is gently prying your eye open with one of her own hands. You groan as you pull her onto the bed. You can hear Cat giggling as she does the exact same thing to your wife.
Your little one only continues to try to force your eyes open until you peel them open just enough to look at the clock on your bedside table.
“Rosalina Marie,” you groan. “Caterina Ann. It is 6:45, and we do not have to be awake for another forty-five minutes. Quit it.”
“Let Mam sleep,” Melissa sighs as she rolls out of bed. “Come on, you little rascals.”
She corrals them out of the room, letting you get another forty minutes of sleep before she’s coming back in to gently shake you awake.
“Mi amore,” your wife says softly as she stands by your bedside. She brushes away a few hairs from your face and kisses your temple gently. “It’s time to get up and start getting ready for church.”
You blink awake, happy to see that beautiful woman’s eyes sparkling. You roll out of bed unceremoniously before heading into the kitchen to eat breakfast and start attempting to get the twins ready for church in time.
 Rosie whines about the fact that Melissa has her in a dress while Cat spins around and giggles the entire time as she watches the skirt puff out.
“My love, it isn’t that bad,” you sigh as you pull on your own trousers. “Mommy just wants the two of you to look your best.”
“And you look wonderful,” Melissa tells Rosie as she slips on her own blouse.
“Why do you and Mam get to wear pants though?” your littler of the two grumbles.
“Because you only own leggings and jeans as a little girl, and Mam and I have slacks,” your wife explains.
By some miracle, the four of you end up in the sanctuary before the service starts. You slide into the pew where Barbara and Gerald Howard sit. The woman is immediately cooing over your two girls, and suddenly Rosie seems thrilled to be wearing the dress Melissa had put her in.
You hand the girls the silent fidget toys that you brought along in order to keep them quiet during the sermon.
“Do you want your book back?” Barbara asks quietly as the priest takes a few seconds to shift from a passage to the choir.
“No,” Melissa sighs. “Not yet. Just... hold onto it until I tell you I can get it back, and do not speak of it again. Please.”
Barbara raises a brow, but she doesn’t say anything further as she turns her attention back to the mass that is taking place.
After the service, you take Cat’s hand while Melissa takes Rosie’s, and the four of you head down to the diner that you frequent often after a service. Gerald and Barbara follow. Again, you fail to notice the way that Shaw and Danik follow your steps.
“Is that...?” Shaw asks.
“The senator, Gerald Howard,” Danik confirms quietly. “There’s no way that the senator has a hand in any of this.”
“No,” Shaw agrees softly. “And his wife is known for her activism in education and her devout Christianity.”
“Shit,” Danik mutters.
“Did we just hit a dead end?” Shaw asks.
The head of this investigation sighs. “I have no idea, Shaw. No fucking clue.”
TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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discotitsposts · 1 day
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but daddy, i hate you
when spencer recieves a birthday card from his estranged father you help him deal with his feelings
gets a little steamy at the end so 18+ recommended
this is how i deal w my own feelings lol
a little background: set in season 13-14. right before spencer’s birthday. you’re spencer’s wife, you’ve been together around 7 years. You work at the bookstore that you and spencer own. (he helps you run it and is co owner, you run it together) also, Spencer and you live in the apartment above the store.
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It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and you’ve been going through boxes of new books for your store before you open for the day. It’s Spencer’s day off and he’s at the counter adding up the figures and making sure everything is in order for your busiest day of the week.
You hear a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it!” You yell to Spencer. You unlock the door and the mailman hands you your mail. “Thanks Jim, how’s Martha?” You ask him.
“She’s great, she’s dropping by later with cookies!”
“Cool! See you tomorrow!” You wave bye and start going through the mail.
“Hey, hon, there’s something for you from…” You stop when you read the name. William Reid. Spencer hadn’t seen nor heard from his father in almost 10 years. He was still very much angry about anything to do with his father. As were you. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t reached out at all.
“From who?” He asks, not looking up from the financial log. He puts his pencil down and reaches his hand out for you to hand him the envelope. You hesitate but hand it to him anyway.
You watch his face drop when he reads the name and address. Oh, how you wished to take the envelope out of his hands and hold him and tell him to forget that silly piece of paper forever. He peels the envelope open, careful not to touch the seal. He feels the dread fill his heart when he sees the contents. A card that says ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front, and ‘to a very special boy’ on the inside.
“What does he think I am? A fucking child?” He shouts, making you jump. “Sorry.” He apologizes and sighs.
“It’s alright, I’ll leave you alone with that.” You start to back away.
“No, don’t. Stay, please.” He begs with his beautiful eyes.
You nod and move closer. He begins reading the handwritten message on the inside of the card.
“Dear Spencer, Hope you’re not too upset with me, I am proud of you. We haven’t talked in a while, you haven’t called. You have the number. Don’t hesitate to reach out. How is Diana? Miss you. Happiest of Birthdays. Love, your father.” He reads it off, mocking every word.
“What the fuck! He hasn’t sent a card in 9 fucking years! Why now?” He raises his voice.
“I don’t..”
He cuts you off, “I’ll tell you why, because he’s either finally feeling bad about everything or he wants something. Well I won’t call him. I fucking hate him.”
“It’s a dick move to blame you for not reaching out, but honestly? Maybe you should, find out what he wants. If he honestly just wants to talk, it might be the closure you need. If he just wants something from you, you can tell him to fuck off. Obviously you don’t have to but maybe you should consider it. I know he was an asshole to you the last time, but you know I regretted not telling my father everything I wanted to say.” You’re watching your words, his father was a touchy subject.
He thinks for a minute and then sits back down and covers his face with his hands. “Maybe you’re right. You alright to open by yourself today? I think I’ll give him a call.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Good luck.”
He walks over to you and gives you a kiss and runs upstairs. He looked like a little kid who had just been given their favorite candy.
Later, when you’re closing the store for lunch break, you hear a loud crash from upstairs. You run upstairs, afraid Spencer had fallen and hurt himself. Worse. He was on the floor crying his eyes out. He had knocked the bookshelf over and he was surrounded by collapsed books.
You carefully step over the books to get to him.
“What happened?” You ask softly, so as to not startle him. He keeps crying into his hands but removes one to take your hand into his.
“I called, told him I received the card and I was willing to talk with him. I- I tried to…” His voice starts to trail off because he’s crying so hard he can’t speak. You rub his back reassuringly. “It’s ok, take your time.”
“I wanted to tell him, I’m married, and my life is going great. I didn’t even get to say anything. He stopped me and asked what card I was talking about. Turns out his new wife felt he should speak with his son, wrote the card and sent it to me. I should have known it wasn’t his handwriting.” He’s so tired from crying he just lays his head in your lap and stares.
“I’m so sorry love.” You say while running your fingers through his hair. Anger coursing through your veins.
“He hung up on me too.” His voice breaks as he says this. It has you fuming mad even more so. How could he do that? You could practically hear Spencer’s heart snapping in two.
He’s crushing your legs, so you convince him to stand up and have him go lay in bed with you. You cover him with the blankets and just hold him until he falls asleep.
You wake up a few hours later and he’s still asleep. You slyly grab his phone and write down William’s number. You take the paper, and your jacket downstairs.
You go to the store phone and as you’re dialing the number your stomach turns. Was this a good idea? After all I’m doing this for Spencer. You think as the line rings.
“Hello? Who is this?” A woman’s voice answers.
“Hello, is William Reid there?” Your voice quivers. You hear shuffling and the woman calls “Will! Phone!” in the background.
More shuffling. Then a man’s voice. “Who is this?” He says sternly.
“Hello, you don’t know me but I-“
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I’m your son’s wife, and I think we need to have a talk.”
“Spencer’s married?” He asks almost longingly. He sounded interested. Good.
“What kind of father are you? You don’t let him know you even want to be in his life and now all of a sudden you do? When he does finally reach out you hang up on him?”
“Ok that was because I went to go talk to my wife about why she sent my son a card from me.”
This goes on for a while, you yelling at Mr. Reid for his rude behavior.
The next morning you wake up to Spencer speaking to someone on the phone. Still groggy, you’re confused and mouth, ‘who is it?’
He holds up a finger to say hold on. He’s smiling. Maybe Prentiss is letting him take the next few days off!
“Alright bye! Love you!” He says into the phone, almost giddy. He hangs up and you tilt your head confused. He has the biggest grin on his adorable face.
“It was my dad. He was calling when I woke up. I can’t believe he reached out and he apologized! Can you believe it? He’s never really apologized to me before! We had a long talk, it was nice. Really nice.” He sits on the bed smiling.
“Is that so? Talk about a change of heart.” You smile to yourself knowing what you had done.
“You know what else he said?”
“What else did he say?”
“He said the little talking-to you gave him worked.” Spencer chuckles knowingly.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
“No, I’m not upset. I actually am glad you did it. He wants to come and visit us. He wants to meet you too.” He pulls you into a big hug. “I love you. Thank you.” He kisses your neck.
“You’re welcome. I love you too.” You pull back and hold his face in your hand.
“Since you did me a favor, I think I owe you one. Lay back.” He gently spreads your legs apart and repays the favor to you. All day long.
the end 💞
it hurt me so bad to write spencer crying
to anyone who read this hope you enjoy! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback if you like this!
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alisonfelixwrites · 3 days
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the deal - part 2/3 (*) [harry styles au]
//
part one, part three.
summary: harry & claire are in love and have a happy family of four. the only dark cloud hanging over them is the custody battle with claire's ex, who's atlas' dad
word count: 11, 074
content warnings: smut (unprotected sex, dirty talk), cutody battle, absent father, physical/emotional abuse (hitting leading to a hospital visit), pregnancy talk
_______________________________________________
“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry had a wide, sleepy smile on his face as he entered the kitchen. His hair was tousled, his shirt wrinkled and his skin still warm from crawling out of bed just minutes before.
The smell of fresh coffee had sort of woken him up as he blinked his eyes open in bed. Patting his hand to the side blindly to find Claire, he had found the space empty. Curiosity brought him downstairs to find a decorated kitchen and a wide selection of breakfast foods on the table.
Claire stood by the counter with his shirt on and a pair of shorts, her hair up in a messy ponytail and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands, “Happy one year anniversary.” She smiled.
“Shit, baby.” Harry chuckled, walking up to hers with his arms opening, wrapping around her frame easily, “This is so corny.” He teased.
“Oh, shut up.” Claire laughed, “I tried to be cute.”
Harry smiled, dipping his head to kiss her lips, “It is.” He murmured, “It’s very cute. Happy one year anniversary, babe.”
Claire pushed up her toes to kiss him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck as she arched into him. “Are you surprised?” She asked against his lips and Harry nodded, “Mhm. Very. Thought you snuck off on me.” He teased again.
“You know, passing the one year mark…” Claire teased back, “I think I might stay.”
She had been staying for a year.
Exactly one year ago, Claire came back from a date where she got stood up. Atlas was spending the night at Harry’s house with Finn and Claire returned, not expecting to end that evening in Harry’s bed with him inside of her.
The next morning, Harry asked her to stay forever and Claire did. Easily.
Her and Atlas went back and forth at first, but Harry and Claire made it a point to not hide their relationship for their sons. Atlas and Finn were over the moon and Claire and Atlas just… stayed. Claire cancelled her apartment a month after and they moved in permanently.
“Y’look sexy.” Harry breathed against her, his hand dropping to her ass. He fit his palm over one of her cheeks, squeezing the flesh before tucking his fingers underneath the fabric of her shorts to touch her bare. The thong covered up little to nothing and Harry groaned from the back of his throat, nudging Claire back into the counter. His free hand cupped her jaw to tip her chin back and take her in a deep kiss.
“Do we have time?” Claire was already pushing up to sit on the countertop, sliding to the edge and splitting her legs for Harry to stand in between. He grinned, humming at their dynamic. Quickies in the kitchen were their thing. Clothes didn’t even come off but they were their most primal and animalistic moments. Romance wasn’t in sight as Harry often fucked her hard and fast, just getting them both to a high. 
Not that Harry wasn’t a complete romantic. This little anniversary breakfast was Claire attempting to match his level a little bit. Most often it was Harry surprising her with his incredible cooking skills. She’d come home to find a candlelit dinner and soft music playing. Harry treasured her like no one else and continued to surprise her like that.
Harry was about to fit his fingers into the waistband of Claire’s panties to touche her bare when they heard a door upstairs.
He paused and Claire sighed out in frustration, “I guess not.”
“Guess not.” Harry smiled, retrieving his hand and kissing her lips again, “I love you, Claire bear.”
“I hate that nickname.” She whispered and Harry threw his head back in a laugh, “I know. I love it.”
Little footsteps sounded down the stairs as two seven year-olds ran down the stairs.
“No running!” Harry shouted, but their speed didn’t cease. Claire smiled at him, still sitting up on the countertop, “Okay, dad.”
“Daddy to you.” He murmured before shortly kissing her again. Claire blushed slightly as Harry patted her thighs and then stepped back. He adjusted his pyjama pants and she bit her lip, watching him. She couldn’t wipe the smile of her face and her cheeks almost hurt. Her stomach bubbled in butterflies and Claire just couldn’t believe how insanely happy she was.
And how insanely happy she had been all year. It was surreal.
Claire watched as Harry eagerly greeted Finn, who was usually first to get up. Atlas had a harder time waking up and Finn often pulled him out of bed. 
It was confirmed again when Atlas’ sleepy face appeared while Harry was hugging Finn good morning. Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Atlas. He had a haircut recently, cutting his shaggy blonde locks a little bit. It was still covering his ears but not long enough anymore for a bun or braid.
“Good morning, Finn.” Claire greeted, also bending down to hug the seven year-old. He hugged her back and kissed her cheek as Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair and the two bickered playfully. Atlas’ dimple popped as he grinned, “Mornin’, daddy Harry.”
“Hi, bud.” Harry smiled, “Want some orange juice?”
Atlas shook his head no, “Milk, please.”
Claire hopped off the counter, also greeting her boy by wrapping him in a tight hug. She didn’t have to bend down anymore to hug Atlas, who was a bit taller than Finn. 
“Is it someone’s birthday?” Finn quipped as he took a look at the decorated table. Harry squeezed his shoulders from behind, “Nope. You know what we’re celebrating?”
Chairs scraped back as both boys joined Harry and Claire at the breakfast table. Claire smiled at Harry and he winked at her before clearing his throat. She poured the coffee as Harry filled up Atlas’ glass with milk and Finn got himself some orange juice.
“Do you know what happened exactly one year ago?” Harry mused out loud.
Claire could almost see Finn’s brain working while Atlas was clearly not awake enough for trivia. She gently stroked her thumb over his shoulder as Harry and Finn had a staring match. Eventually Harry swallowed a sip of coffee, “One year ago, Atlas’ mum and I got together.”
“That was a year ago?” Atlas raised his brows, glancing at Claire, who offered him a smile, “Mhm.”
Atlas chewed, “Whoa.”
“Yep. One year ago we fell in love.” Harry smiled at Claire and Finn raised his brows while Atlas near spit out his milk, “One year ago you kissed!” He shouted before bursting out into a laugh.
Finn laughed along and Harry blushed softly while Claire giggled. The four of them were laughing and smiling around the table and Claire would’ve loved to think it was a rare sight, but it wasn’t. Every morning was like this.
There had of course been little spats in the past year, but no big fights. Atlas and Harry got along great, as did Finn and Claire. Harry and Claire continued discovering each other but kept their relationship sort of private.
They were aware basically everyone knew, like the other mums at school – but no one really asked or confronted them. Finn and Atlas didn’t make it a big deal and usually Harry dropped both of them off in the morning.
People whispered and pointed but no one actually spoke. 
And for a year, Harry and Claire had been in their bubble. They spent most of their time here at home, both not having a significant other to care for their children if they were to leave the house.
Speaking of significant others, Claire glanced at the clock. Dread filled her body knowing she was supposed to drop Atlas off at his dad’s in about two hours. Harry followed her gaze and sent her a sympathetic look.
Their boys’ attention didn’t stick with breakfast for too long. It was winter and snowy and soon enough, they were on the couch together watching a kid’s show which had a special Christmas episode. 
Harry squeezed Claire’s fingers as she started cleaning up the kitchen, “We’ll do that later.” He whispered, a small mischievous smile on his face.
“Later?” Claire repeated. He pulled her into his chest, “Mhm, later. Let’s have a shower first.”
Claire dropped the spoon she was washing off in the sink and immediately agreed. Finn and Atlas hardly paid them attention, eyes glued to the screen as Harry tugged her up the stairs, favouring their own bathroom which was furthest away from their kids.
Harry and Claire usually tried to get them to spend their time not in front of a screen, but other things were of more importance right now.
They teased for a bit, standing in front of the mirror. Making eyes at one another while brushing their teeth. Harry’s eyes lingered on her nipples through her shirt and right after Claire spit out the toothpaste, he pulled at her clothes.
Claire giggled as he got her naked, stumbling under the stream of the water together.
She moaned into his mouth, fingers raking through his hair as she felt his body pressing against hers. He was soft and smooth and warm and his hands were gentle yet needy as he roamed her body. Passion easily radiated and even if it was dirty, it was still sweet and vulnerable.
It was one year of kisses, I love you’s, gifts, early mornings together. They had spent the spring tending to Harry’s garden and spicing up the house a bit with Claire’s personal things. They spent summer by the pool and running around the garden with the boys. They spent fall jumping in the piles of leaves and carving pumpkins. 
One year of incredible sex and growing together. A year of Claire letting Harry into her life and breaking down her walls and a year of Harry opening up his heart for another woman and both learning how to love and trust again.
It felt light, the both of them together. They laughed and joked and had more fun than ever before. Harry didn’t remember that he could feel like this. 
He felt so young and every day was just so fun. Claire kept him on his toes and made him feel so fucking alive.
His fingers tangled in her wet hair as he whimpered into her mouth, warm water surrounding them. “I love you so fucking much.” He panted, hands slipping towards her thighs. 
She was free of make-up and her wet hair was pushed back, blonde locks cascading down her back. She looked young and fresh and Harry’s heart skipped a million beats, smiling uncontrollably as he shook his head to himself in disbelief, “Fucking hell.”
Claire giggled before their lips crashed together. They were aware that they didn’t have all day. Harry’s dick was painfully hard, pressing into Claire’s tummy before he pushed her against the shower wall. Claire thudded against the glass door as they continued kissing and Harry grinded into her hip, “You ready?” He spoke against her lips.
“Always for you.” She panted.
He smirked and found his footing before lifting her up. Claire squealed with a grin, glancing at his bulging biceps as he pushed her up against the glass wall, her thighs locked around his waist. 
“Slip me in.” He breathed, “Fuck, please, I need you.”
Claire moaned, her hand travelling between them to quickly slide a finger through her slit. She was wet, her legs spread for him. Her hand than reached for his shaft, feeling him solid and aching for her. Harry’s lips gaped at the feeling of a delicate touch, lowering Claire in his arms while she positioned him and he slipped inside of her.
“Oh god.” Claire sighed, her eyes closing at the feeling of Harry’s cock stretching her. The feeling never got old and her toes curled against his back when he filled her so perfectly.
Harry kept his eyes on her face, watching pure bliss take over her delicate features as they were joined together. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, “Shit, baby. Feels so good.”
“I know,” Claire panted out, “fuck, I know.”
Harry tilted his head up to catch her in a kiss, grinding back and forth before pulling back a little more to thrust inside of her. Claire thudded against the glass wall with each rock of his hips, sinking his cock inside of her pussy.
“God – Harry…” Claire moaned, “Please.”
“Need me harder?” He panted, his arms aching from the position. Claire swallowed and nodded, tugging on his hair, “Y-Yeah.”
He nodded too, putting her down on the shower floor. Water streamed down his muscular back as he flipped Claire around. Her hands were flat against the glass wall, Harry pushing her against it until her breasts flattened and she turned her head to the side.
He tugged on her hips and used his foot to spread her legs a little, sinking down a little before he pushed back inside of her. Claire welcomed him easily and Harry immediately chose a quicker pace. They both needed it, and his hand curled into her hair to pull her back as his hips clashed against her ass. 
“You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned from behind, watching the back of Claire’s body. The length of her back, the way her shoulder blades tightened from tensing up, her slender waist and the curve of her hips. His free hand slid over her body, settling on her ass to give a stern little slap.
Claire squealed at that and Harry hunched over her more, “I love you,” he moaned, “fuck, I love you. ‘M gonna cum, baby.”
“M-Me too. Just a little more.” Claire gasped. Harry nodded, tugging her hair a little more and fucking he harder. Claire cried out in sensitivity, pushed against the shower completely as her knees felt weak and Harry fucked into her from behind.
Harry’s other hand moved around her hip and Claire’s eyes tightly closed when he rubbed circles on her clit, “Oh – fuck, right there.” She cried, “Yes, Harry… I love you.”
He hardly heard her, the pulsing of Claire’s pussy pulling him over the edge too. His hips slammed forward, balls snug against her as he gritted his teeth and cocked her head back further. Claire gasped at the sting in her scalp, staring up at the tiled bathroom ceiling as Harry finished inside of her.
He stayed inside of her for a moment, gently releasing her hair and stroking his palms over her skin as he puffed out breaths and kissed the back of her shoulder. “One year of finishing inside of you.” He teased and Claire breathed out a laugh, “Wondering when you’ll get me pregnant?”
The topic ignited butterflies in Harry’s tummy as he smiled against her shoulder. They had talked about it before, about having a baby of just the two of them. Finn felt like Claire’s and Atlas felt like Harry’s, but they definitely wouldn’t mind an extension of the family.
Claire needed some time to think at first, remembering how rough her first pregnancy was with Atlas. Her situation was completely different though. She had no money after her parents cut her off and she was stuck in an abusive relationship while dependant on drugs. It wasn’t a safe environment for either her or Atlas and getting them both away from there would always be the thing she was most proud of in life.
Whenever someone complimented Atlas on how polite or nice he was, it hit Claire a little harder. She took credit for that. And then maybe the thought of raising another little person didn’t sound bad at all. 
Harry had his own thinking to do, getting over his anxiety of Claire leaving him like Astrid had. The pictures of her were all gone and her old art studio actually became Atlas’ room. Harry took him on a tour around the house and he got to pick whichever room he liked most. The garden was Atlas’ favourite part of the house so he naturally chose a room with view on the pool and the garden. At first he was pouty that him and Finn couldn’t sleep in the same room, but they needed their own little space – Harry and Claire felt.
Harry’s office had moved to a downstairs room and the memory of Astrid was gone. Finn didn’t ask about his mum yet he knew if he ever had questions, Harry was there to answer them. It wasn’t their intention to replace either of the parents, and Finn also didn’t refer to Claire as mum. He called her Claire or Atlas’ mum.
But Harry hadn’t expected to fall so fucking hard for Claire. In theory, she wasn’t his type. Her personality was so far from any other girl he had dated in the past. She was a whirlwind, a hurricane and she had a big mouth. But he learned to love that about her. Unapologetically herself, Claire didn’t give a fuck what others thought. It pulled Harry out of his comfort zone and he had never felt more alive.
They balanced each other out, Harry felt. He was the calm in Claire’s storm, and she was the tequila in his coffee cup. She was just the kind of crazy he had been looking for and life had never been more fun with Claire and Atlas in it. Finn blossomed too at their hands, and it made Harry even emotional to see it.
It was hard to know what emotional turmoil Astrid’s departure left on Finn. He was a closed book and never really spoke much. Harry wasn’t sure at what age it was appropriate to maybe take him to a therapist but it didn’t seem like that was needed anymore. Him and Atlas were the best of friends and confided in each other.
Even if they did have separate rooms, during school breaks and vacations they preferred to stay in the same room. They referred to the other as brother.
And so Harry and Claire considered the idea of maybe giving them another brother or sister. Claire wasn’t on birth control anymore. She hadn’t been for a few months now and so they let the universe decide if one month she’d be pregnant.
They weren’t in a rush.
Harry slipped out of Claire and she hummed as she got to stretch her back. His release ran down her thigh and she turned around with a blissed look in her eyes. Harry pulled her under the stream of water to share kisses and wash her hair, caring for her in so many ways.
“Mummy?” Atlas’ voice was soft as he knocked the door of Harry and Claire’s bedroom. She was pulling on her socks as she turned her head to the open door, “Hm?”
Atlas pushed open the door more, dressed in a thick jumper and his pants. His cheeks were pink because inside the house was too warm for these clothes. Claire’s stomach dropped when she saw the pout on his lips and the tears in his eyes, “Atlas?” She frowned, “What’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to go to daddy.” He mumbled, his lip quivering. Claire swallowed thickly as she glanced at Harry, who shot her a wary look. Claire opened up her arms for Atlas and he fell into her, clinging to her body. Claire fought her tears as she stroked his hair, “’S okay, baby. You have fun when you go to daddy, hm?”
“No.” Atlas whispered, “I don’t want to go.”
Claire turned back to Harry again, “Harry…” She tried but he softly shook his head, “No, Claire, we’ve been over this… The lawyer told you just a few days ago.”
“I know.” Claire sighed, “But I can’t force him to go if he doesn’t want to go?! He’s crying!”
Harry sat down too, placing his hand on Atlas’ back to comfort him and he nodded, “Yeah. But you know what they’re going to say, right? They won’t believe it until you bring Atlas to his doorstep and he refuses to leave the car.”
Claire swallowed and angrily shook her head, “I’m not putting him through that. H-He’s seen enough, Harry.” She whispered, consoling Atlas as she tried to have this hushed conversation with Harry.
“Babe, I know.” He sympathized, “But when this gets taken to court again, you’re going to need everyone on your side. If you don’t bring him, he’ll say you violate the custody arrangement. He can go to the police.”
Claire closed her eyes, resting her cheeks on Atlas’ soft hair. Her heart broke every time this happened. Atlas was supposed to see his dad on Saturday, every two weeks. It got taken to court a few months ago and even though Evan asked for a full weekend, the judge disagreed. Atlas and Evan weren’t close and Atlas didn’t feel a thousand percent comfortable there. Asking him to stay a night, was too much.
Especially considering Evan didn’t have the most stable housing situation. He had moved about six times in the past year which didn’t provide a safe space for Atlas. He was always in a house he didn’t know, usually with a new girlfriend of Evan’s and whatever children she has. Atlas wasn’t too fussy about that but it was clear that he didn’t have any room for himself.
He often came back from Evan’s, exhausted and falling asleep the moment they picked him up. He ate like crazy when they got home and crawled incredibly close to Claire, sucking his thumb again. He regressed whenever he spent time with Evan.
Claire had tried to contest the arrangement countless times. Her and her lawyer argued that Evan was old enough to make his own decisions and if he said he didn’t want to go, than they had to respect that.
For now though, Claire had to follow the current arrangement even if it killed her.
“We’re going to be late.” Harry softly added. He knew that even if they showed up five minutes late, it meant Evan would call the police on Claire. It was venomous between them and Claire regretted him more than anything in her life.
Atlas was her everything, but he was also proof of a wound that would never close. Her and Evan would always be linked together unless Atlas one day decided to not want Evan as a father anymore. He could only do that if he was eighteen or older, so they had years and years of custody arrangements, split holidays and sidewalk arguments to do.
“Yeah.” Claire rasped back. With Atlas tucked into her neck, Claire let a few tears fall freely. He couldn’t see her but Harry could, and he brushed them away as Claire let out her emotions. 
“Atlas.” Claire murmured, urging him to stand up straight, “We have to leave.”
He casted his eyes down in defeat but didn’t fight her. He shortly nodded and trailed behind Harry, going downstairs.
Claire knew she was going to pick him up in about eight hours, but it still felt like an eternity away. She had no trust in Evan as a person or as a father. He had crossed lines too often. The fact that Claire had been to the hospital twice in the past year because he had hit her, wasn’t proof enough to the court that he was an aggressive person who was unfit to be alone with a seven year-old.
But Evan had a good lawyer who continuously tried to prove that he was bettering his life. He was apparently off of drugs and alcohol – even though Atlas sometimes told alarming stories after spending the day there. He had a job or was in counselling and he was in therapy. 
Claire didn’t believe any of it.
She didn’t even believe Evan truly wanted a connection to Atlas. He just did it all to spite her because he apparently hated her that much.
Finn and Atlas were in the backseat. Claire wanted to cry again when she saw they were holding hands and everyone in the car could sense that today would fucking suck. There was no music playing, no chattering from the backseat. Finn wasn’t his bubbly self and somehow sensed he’d had to miss his best friend all day. 
Claire felt uneasy as Harry started the drive to Evan’s house. 
He insisted on coming along even if Evan refused to even look at him. They had deemed it best that Harry simply waited in the car as Claire dropped off Atlas. And naturally, Finn couldn’t be at the house by himself so they brought him too.
“Are you excited for swim practice today?” Claire tried to break the silence, glancing over her shoulder to see Atlas. His face perked up a little bit and he nodded, “Yes. Will I be big enough to play in daddy Harry’s pool then next summer?”
“You will.” Claire smiled and Atlas gasped excitedly, “Without floaties?”
Claire pressed her lips together, “We’ll see.” 
Harry chuckled from next to her, squeezing her thigh gently as they followed the GPS towards yet another new address of Evan’s. It was about a thirty minute drive and the pool where Atlas had his swim classes was actually about ten minutes away from Evan’s place.
Claire mourned the fact that she wouldn’t be able to sit at the sidelines of the pool, cheering on Atlas as he learned how to swim. He was the oldest out of the group but Claire was excited to finally get him to learn these things. Just like her and Harry had been teaching both boys to ride a bike during summer.
Atlas was such a wild child and he loved being outside, it was just necessary for him to know these things even if he was a little behind. Before being with Harry, Claire never had the funds to do anything like that for him. Without having to pay rent, she had extra to spoil him and this was part of that.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Harry slightly frowned as they drove slowly into one of the streets. Claire glanced out the window, seeing the muddy snow off to the side of the roads and the less than nice houses. She tried not to judge because she had lived in places like this for years in a row. She pulled out her phone to check the email from the lawyer, nodding at Harry, “Yes.”
He pressed his lips together, “Okay.”
She felt sick to her stomach when Harry pulled over and Claire got out, grabbing Atlas’ bags from the trunk. He exited the car with little enthusiasm and Harry got out for a moment, giving Atlas a tight hug and promising him his favourite food tonight. Atlas perked up a little and then said goodbye to Finn.
He held Claire’s hand as they walked up to the door of the house, and Claire shivered in the cold December air when she had rang the bell.
The stench of smoke and tobacco hit her nostrils when the door opened to reveal Evan. He looked dishevelled as always. Blonde, messy hair that actually resembled Atlas. He wore shorts and a shirt and the heat from inside the house almost made Claire nauseous. Evan’s previous place was cold as fuck which is why she had dressed Atlas in such thick clothes. He’d sweat like crazy inside of this room.
“Hi.” Claire forced out. Evan’s eyes dragged up her body, lingering on her breasts as always. Claire wanted to cry. He then crouched down in front of Atlas with a smile on his face, “Hey, little man.”
Atlas swallowed and Claire could tell his smile wasn’t reaching his eyes, “Hi, daddy.” He let go of Claire’s hand to give Evan a hug. Claire already knew she’d never get the smell of smoke out of his clothes. 
Claire shortly glanced inside the house, “New place?”
“Yeah.” Evan shortly answered. He then glanced behind her to see Harry’s car. Evan’s jaw tightened as he swallowed, “Still with mister perfect over there?”
Claire exhaled a breath, “Mhm. His name is Harry.”
“Don’t remind me.” Evan scoffed, dropping his eyes to the bags in Claire’s hands, “What’s all that?”
“Uh – just some of his clothes, in case he wants to play outside and gets them dirty.” Claire explained. Evan took the bag from her with little enthusiasm, “I have clothes for him here.” He argued and she shook her head, “He grew again, those don’t fit anymore.” She then held out the other bag, “And this is his swim stuff. He has practice at four.”
“What?”
“His swim stuff.” Claire repeated, “He’s in swim class now, it was said in court.” She explained, “Every Saturday.”
She wanted to add that he wouldn’t know. It was actually Atlas’ fourth class but the previous Saturday, Evan was too busy moving to spend time with his son and skipped out on his time with him. Claire had been driving Atlas for the past three weeks to the swimming pool.
“Claire, I don’t have a fucking car.” Evan frowned. Claire swallowed, “Look, it was said in court that he has swim class every Saturday and you and your lawyer agreed to take him on your time.”
Even huffed, “Am I supposed to teleport there?!”
“I don’t care how you get him there.” Claire kept her voice steady, “There’s busses you can take.”
Evan grumbled something under his breath and then exhaled, “Why does he need swim practice anyway.”
“Daddy Harry has a pool.” Atlas piped out. Evan rolled his eyes, “Of course fucking prince charming has a pool, hm?” He flicked his eyes up to Claire, “How long before your sugar daddy drops you?”
Claire swallowed and shook her head, “Stop. Don’t do this in front of Atlas.”
“He’ll learn soon enough.” Evan bit back, keeping a hand on Atlas’ shoulder, “There’s only a few correct ways to treat women, hm?” He had a sick smirk on his face before slamming the door. Claire gasped and put her foot between, “I-I haven’t said goodbye to him!” She tried to fight the door.
Evan harshly shoved it open again, near hitting Claire in the face, “Are you trespassing?” He seethed, taking a step closer to her and Claire quickly stumbled back, “No!” She shook her head, “Just let me say goodbye to him.” She leaned down and Atlas quickly fell into her hug. He clung to her tightly and Claire kissed his head a few times, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
“When will you be back?” Atlas whispered.
“At six.” Claire mumbled, “After swim practice.”
Atlas softly nodded, “Okay.” He seemed to talk to himself, counting on his fingers, “Swim practice, mum.” He whispered to himself before nodding. Claire gave him an encouraging nod and then the door got slammed shut and she was alone on the sidewalk.
Even if it was below zero, Claire was burning in rage and anxiety when she got back in the car. Harry frowned at her, “What did he say?”
“Nothing.” She quickly dismissed, “Please, drive.”
“Cl-“
“No.” Claire shook her head and swallowed thickly, “Please, get me out of here.”
Harry kept his eyes on her for a moment longer before sighing out. He did as she asked, driving away from Evan’s house and leaving Atlas behind as they drove back home.
Claire was noticeable silent every time Atlas wasn’t around. She sat on the couch, staring ahead of her and Harry didn’t know what she was thinking of. Finn was helping Harry in the kitchen, preparing lunch.
“Claire’s sad.” Finn spoke as he put the sliced cucumbers into the bowl. Harry glanced at him and slowly nodded, “Mhm. She misses Atlas.”
“Me too.”
Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, “I know, bub. It’s strange not having him in the house, isn’t it?”
Finn ate one of the cherry tomatoes and nodded, “Yes. He’s my best friend.”
“Ouch.” Harry chuckled, teasingly poking Finn’s rib as he sat up on the counter, “I thought I was your best friend.”
Finn burst out into a giggle, “Silly daddy. You’re my daddy, not my friend.”
“I can be your daddy and your friend.” Harry shrugged, “What does being a friend mean?”
Finn seemed to think hard about that before he spoke up, “Someone I can tell everything to.”
Harry hummed, “You can tell anything to me, right?”
“Yes.” Finn seemed a little stumped as he thought again, “And someone I can play with.”
“I play with you all the time!” Harry argued playfully and Finn giggled again, “You’re right. I suppose you’re my friend.”
“I’m so honoured.” Harry teased, wrapping Finn up in a hug before he put him down on the floor, “Thank you for helping in the kitchen.” He sincerely spoke and Finn proudly nodded, “Did I do good?”
“So good.” Harry spoke without missing a beat, “Couldn’t of done it without you.”
Finn’s teeth showed as he smiled, crooked and with gaps between. Harry adored him like nothing else and his insides melted as he stared at his smiling boy. He then squeezed Finn’s shoulder, “Can you maybe go cheer up Claire a little bit? I think she could use a hug.”
“I think so too.” Finn agreed. He was about to turn around before stopping himself, nibbling his lip, “Would it cheer her up if I start calling her mummy?”
Harry’s heart stopped for a moment before he exhaled a breath, “Not necessarily. It’s your choice what you call her, Finn. She’s just as happy with you calling her Claire. If you don’t want to call her mummy, that’s okay. She’s not waiting for that.”
Finn seemed to think of Harry’s words, and Harry squeezed his shoulder again, “Do you understand?”
“I think so. I can call her whatever I want? But I can also call her Claire?”
“Of course.” Harry nodded, “She’s just sad because of Atlas.”
Finn nodded too, “Atlas doesn’t have a nice daddy. Not like you.”
“That’s true.” Harry refrained from elaborating even if there’s plenty of things he’d like to say about Evan. He cleared his throat and nudged Finn in Claire’s direction. He caught on easily and made his way over. 
Claire forced a smile at him when Finn stood in front of her. 
“Hi.” He softly spoke. Claire chuckled, “Hi, bub.”
“Are you sad about Atlas?”
Claire swallowed away the lump in her throat, “Yeah, I am.”
“I miss him too.”
“I know you do.” Claire sighed, opening her arms and Finn hugged her. He stood in between her legs with his arms around her shoulders. Upon pulling back, he cupped her cheeks. His small, warm hands felt gentle around Claire’s jaws and he pulled Harry’s move, using his thumbs to wipe away a few stray tears.
The sentiment melted her heart and she was so, so glad for Finn that he learned how to be a gentle person because of his father. Harry was an incredible example and it only amplified how horrific of an example Evan was.
“I wish Atlas had a nice daddy, like mine.” Finn spoke.
Claire exhaled, “Me too. I wish he had your daddy as his daddy.”
Finn nodded too, “And I wish you were my real mummy.”
Claire shot him a soft smile, “You do?”
“Yes.” He nodded immediately, “You’re a really sweet mummy to me. You always hug me and take care of me when I’m hurt.”
“Well that’s because I love you.” Claire smiled. Finn nodded again, “Mhm. You love me like a real mummy.”
Claire closed her eyes as her and Finn hugged, and for the rest of the day she could tell they both tried to cheer her up. Her and Harry did some online Christmas shopping together. Claire couldn’t bring herself to go into town and hit the shops without Atlas there. Her mind was constantly with him and she kept checking her phone every few minutes.
She helped Finn with some of his reading and busied herself by cleaning a bit in the afternoon, until her phone rang at about four thirty.
Immediate panic seeped into her bones when Evan’s name showed up on the screen. Atlas was supposed to be at swim practice and the worst case scenarios popped into her head. What if something happened? What if Atlas was hurt? What if he was in the hospital? Evan would never let her live it down, knowing Claire signed him up for those classes in the first place. 
“Hello?!” She instantly picked up the phone, dropping the laundry she was holding in her hand.
“Mummy?” Atlas’ hushed whisper sounded through the phone and Claire’s stomach dropped, “Atlas, baby? W-What’s going on? Why aren’t you at swim practice?”
She heard his breathing on the other side of the phone and Claire pressed her lips together, “Atlas, where’s your dad?”
“He… He’s asleep. I think.”
Claire pressed her palm to her mouth to stifle a whimper, “Asleep?”
“He went upstairs a few hours ago and… and I haven’t seen him.” Atlas sounded small and Claire could hear the sadness in his voice through the phone.
She closed her eyes, “A few hours ago, you say? What have you been doing the entire time, baby?”
“Nothing. I waited.” Atlas whispered, “Mum, can you come pick me up?”
Claire sniffed as she hopped down the stairs, “Yes, me and Harry are coming to get you right away, alright? Sit tight, sweetheart, we’ll be there soon.”
Harry’s head lifted as he heard Claire speaking on the phone. He put down his newspaper, “Babe? Everything okay?”
“Atlas called.” Claire rushed out, grabbing her coat, “Evan fell asleep hours ago, he’s been by himself in that house trying to keep busy.” Her voice trembled from emotion, “He didn’t bring him to swim practice and he begged me to come pick him up.”
Harry quickly got up his feet, “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Claire sniffed and Harry cupped her cheeks, “Baby, calm down.”
“I can’t.” Claire’s voice cracked, “He’s asleep at four in the afternoon, Harry. I-I don’t trust this one bit. What do you mean you leave your seven year old fucking kid alone?! In the few hours you get to spend with him every other week?!” She was rambling now, “He fought so fucking hard in court for those few hours and then you climb in bed and leave him in that boiling house?! No fucking way.” She seethed, “I’m going to pick him up.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Harry, I’ll be f-“
“No, I’m not arguing with you on this. I’m coming with you.” He sternly spoke before turning towards the stairs, “Finn!” He shouted.
Only a few minutes later, the three of them were in the car again. Harry’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel as he tried to drive quick but the snow and traffic prevented him from doing so. “Tell me what he said again?” He asked.
Claire took a breath, “He said his father went upstairs a few hours ago and Atlas thinks he’s asleep. He’s been by himself, doing nothing all afternoon. And he’s not at swim practice.” Right as she said it, she got a call from his swim teacher. Claire winced under her breath, “Now this.” She showed the screen to Harry and he held out his hand, “I’ll take the call, I’ll explain.” He offered.
“No, no, you’re driving, it’s fine.” Claire shook her head, answering the call and explaining why Atlas didn’t attend his class today. The teacher was understanding but felt a little worried because no one let them know in advance. Claire promised he’d be there next week and they talked shortly about Atlas’ progression in swimming.
By the time Claire ended the call, Harry’s Tesla was in Evan’s neighbourhood. The car was hardly to a stop before Claire jumped out and ran through the muddy snow towards the front door.
Harry knew it was no use trying to stop her, but this wasn’t going to turn out well. Evan called the police for everything these days. Claire showing up here at least thirty minutes early would probably not sit right with him even if it was in Atlas’ best interest. Evan got the lawyers involved when Claire showed up just a few minutes early. It was unnecessary but he just made sure everything got dragged out and he hit Claire where it hurt.
“Evan!” Claire shouted as she banged her fist on the door, “Open the door.”
It took long. Too long, Claire felt. Her fingers were itching to fucking open the door herself but after a bit, she heard the fumbling of the lock and then the door opened. The insane warmth of the house greeted her once more, almost like she opened up an oven. 
Evan was frowning, his face angry as he stared at her, “What the fuck?!” He sneered, “It’s not six yet.”
“He’s supposed to be at swim practice.” Claire breathed, “Where is he? Atlas!” She shouted into the house.
Evan stepped in front of her, wearing the same clothes as before, “He’ll come out when it’s six.”
“Don’t fucking pretend you’ve been spending time with him.” Claire bit, “I know you’ve been asleep all afternoon.” Her eyes glanced over his features, “Are you high?”
“How fucking dare you.” Evan near growled, “No, I’m not fucking high. I’m not using anymore, Claire.”
“Then why are you asleep at four in the afternoon when you only get to spend a few hours with him?! God, I can’t fucking believe you.” She muttered under her breath, “Atlas!” She shouted again.
Finally, he appeared from behind Evan. His eyes glanced at his father and Evan stood in front if him, “No, he’s not leaving yet.”
“You’ve been asleep all afternoon.” Claire repeated, “You made him miss swim practice.”
Evan’s jaw clenched, “How the fuck do you even know that? You’ve got no proof of anything.” He looked at Atlas, “Atlas, have we been playing together all afternoon? We have, haven’t we?” 
Atlas pressed his lips together and looked at Claire, who shook her head, “No, come here. It’s okay, baby. Come on.” She coaxed him. Evan’s hand yanked on Atlas’ shoulder, “No, he stays here. You can wait in your car until it’s six. He’s not coming out sooner than that.” He warned, “Claire, I swear to fucking god…”
“Don’t touch him like that!” Claire immediately intervened, stepping in as Atlas was between the two of them. Evan gave him a firm yank until Atlas was behind him again, “I said no!”
“Mummy…” Atlas whined softly from behind Evan. Tears formed in Claire’s eyes and she swallowed thickly as she stared at Evan, “I hate you.” She murmured, “I hate you so much.”
He didn’t do anything besides smirk a little, “There used to be a time that you loved me, C. You loved all of me. Even begged for me.”
“Stop.” Claire shook her head. Evan’s eyes lingered on Harry’s car on the street, jealousy evident in every little detail of him, “Six. No earlier.”
Claire felt powerless and glanced at Atlas, who pleaded with her through his eyes. And Claire took a breath, “No.” She tried to sound firm, “I’m taking him now.”
“Then I’m calling my lawyer.” Evan warned and Claire bit her tongue, “Then I’ll call mine and explain what Atlas said on the phone.”
“What?!” Evan’s eyes blazed fire as he looked at Atlas over his shoulder, “You took my phone?”
“Evan, h-“ Claire tried, panic making her ears ring as Evan’s shoulders tensed, “You fucking little piece of s-“ He raised his arm towards Atlas and Claire’s eyes widened, “No!” She grabbed his shoulder and Evan briskly turned around, shoving her harshly. Claire stumbled back into the wall behind her with a smack, gasping from the pain in the back of her head. 
She hardly had time to really feel it before her head whipped to the side, a sharp sting in her jaw from where he slapped her.
“Mummy!” Atlas shouted desperately. Claire heard a car door and urgent footsteps, “Hey!” Harry barked, “Did you fucking hit her?!”
Her sight was blurry as she was down on the floor, pain somehow everywhere before she realized she fell right into a plant pot and it’s why her stomach was burning so much. She blinked a few times, tasting blood in her mouth before her vision focussed on Harry – who had Evan pinned up against the door.
Evan struggled, but Harry saw red. He had never felt such anger in his life and he wouldn’t ever consider himself a violent or aggressive person. It took a lot to get him riled up and he had never been in a physical fight before.
Sitting in the car, he had been restraining himself from intervening. He knew Claire didn’t want him to because it made everything messier. But he cared for Atlas like he was his own, and he cared for Claire in a way words couldn’t even explain. He adored both of them tremendously and so when he saw Claire’s body colliding with that wall, he gasped in a way that Finn jumped up from the noise in the backseat.
When he saw Evan raising his hand, Harry opened up his door on instinct. And when Evan didn’t even hesitate to strike Claire across her face, Harry was already running up to him. She collapsed from the force, falling down to her side with a whimper as Harry quickly shoved Evan up against the door, holding him against it.
“Harry!” Claire gasped, getting up again and ignoring the sharp pains running through her body. Atlas was frozen in the doorway as Harry used every ounce of strength to not punch Evan’s teeth out. “Harry!” Claire grabbed his shoulder, “Don’t!” She tried to pull Harry off, “Please.”
Evan was breathing heavily and Atlas took it as his moment to run out of the house. His bags were right where Claire had left them when dropping Atlas off and when she finally managed to pull Harry off of Evan before things escalated even more, she quickly reached for Atlas’ stuff.
Her eyes were wide and teary, a line of blood running down the side of her mouth from where Evan had hit her and her entire body sore and aching. She sniffed and stared at Evan, “I will literally fight until you never see him again.”
“You can’t take him away from me, Claire.” Evan shook his head, “He’s mine too.”
“Unfortunately.” She mumbled. With that, Harry gave him one last shove before he helped Claire to the car. Evan didn’t come after them, but watched as Atlas hurried into the car to get away from him and then they drove off.
Finn was silent but held Atlas’ hand again, who worried for his mum. Claire breathed heavily as she used a tissue to clean off the blood. 
“I’m driving you to the hospital.” Harry spoke. Claire winced and shook her head, “No, I’m fine. J-Just take me home.”
He swallowed and shook his head, “No.”
“Harry, I swear, just d-“
“What if you’re pregnant?” He softly spoke. He kept his eyes ahead and felt Claire’s gaze on him. His hands were tight around the wheel and he clenched his jaw. Claire’s face softened when she saw the clear worry in his face and she took a breath, “Yeah. Okay. We can go to the hospital.” She had fallen on that fucking flower pot and bruised her abdomen. They had been sort of trying for a baby and this couldn’t be good if Claire actually was pregnant.
The car ride progressed in silence and Harry pulled up to the emergency room soon after. He was on the phone with the lawyer and the cops when Claire got taken into a separate room by the doctor. They took pictures of her injuries first as proof and then the nurse helped clean her up.
Claire explained to them what happened. Her cheek would be bruised and she had a slight scrape in her forehead. Lifting her shirt, she could see bruising and swelling and she winced out when the doctor gently prodded her.
“There’s – uh… there’s a chance I might be pregnant.” She mumbled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding the doctor’s eyes, “Me and my boyfriend have been trying. Not too actively, but we have been trying. I haven’t taken a test yet and I don’t feel anything, but…”
The doctor nodded, “Alright. Let me get an ultrasound machine to check. We need to assess internal damage either way. Afterwards, I can have a look to get you some pain medication.” His voice was soft and gentle and Claire exhaled a breath she felt like she had been holding for a long time.
Nerves took over as the doctor spread the gel over her skin and Claire held up her jumper. 
“How long have you been trying?” The doctor questioned as he had his eyes locked on the screen. Claire swallowed, “I stopped my birth control about four months ago.”
He nodded, “Okay.” He moved the transducer and tilted his head to the side, “I don’t see anything, I’m afraid. I’m sorry if that’s not the news you were hoping for.”
“No, it’s okay.” Claire breathed, “I didn’t think I was.”
“I’m not sure how to say this, but it might’ve been for the best.” He turned off the machine with a sigh, “If you did have a little foetus in there, chances of it surviving a fall like this would’ve been slim.”
Claire lowered her eyes, nodding to herself, “Right.”
“I don’t see any damage inside. There’s no internal bleeding and this will just be a painful bruise. I’ll prescribe you pain medication and a follow-up appointment next week to do another ultrasound. Your ribs aren’t broken either, so I just advise you to rest and not move around too much.” He spoke.
Claire swallowed and forced a smile, “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He shook his head and glanced at his beeper, “I see police and social services have arrived. Do you feel ready to talk to them?”
“Mhm.” Claire bit her lip as she tried to get up but the doctor shook his head, “I’ll get you a wheelchair and those painkillers first. Like I said, you need rest.”
Claire had a band-aid on her forehead and bags underneath her eyes when she was wheeled back into the waiting room. Police officers were talking to Harry and Finn and Atlas were colouring a little bit in the kid’s corner.
“Hey.” Harry rushed over to Claire when he saw her, crouching down and stroking his fingers over her jaw, “Hey, baby.” He crooned, “How do you feel?”
“Okay.” She nodded, her voice soft. She offered Harry a smile, “Really, I’m okay, Harry. Thank you.”
Her words pained him, because she shouldn’t be okay. It went to show how often Claire had been in here, in that same position for her to hardly flinch from Evan’s behaviour. She was used to being thrown around by him. Harry bit his lip, “A-And… are you?”
“No.” She breathed, shaking her head, “I wasn’t.”
Harry felt relief, knowing there wasn’t a baby inside of her who would be hurt because of what happened. He kissed her knuckles, “Okay. Yeah, okay.”
“Nothing’s damaged, I’ll just be black and blue for a little bit.” Claire sighed and Harry nodded, “Okay.” He leaned in to softly kiss her, “I love you. And I’m really proud of you.”
“I love you too. Thank you for everything.” Claire whispered back, nuzzling her nose with his. She knew she came with baggage. If either had a choice, Evan wouldn’t even exist. But it was Claire’s life and Harry was a part of that.
He took a breath, “Social services want to talk to Atlas. Alone.”
“Alone?” Claire frowned and he nodded, “Yeah. He’ll be fine, babe.”
She sighed, “Yeah, I know.” She glanced at the social worker, who shot her a warm smile. After a short moment with Atlas, Claire watched him disappear in one of the rooms with the woman. Someone else was talking to Finn and Harry and the police was talking to Claire.
She explained everything and they wrote everything down, asking her some questions. Claire sent them the pictures of her injuries and she was sure that if they laid hers, Harry’s and Atlas’ stories next to one another, they’d add up.
It was dark by the time they drove back to the house. Not many words were spoken and glancing the backseat, both Finn and Atlas had dozed off.
Harry had a hand on Claire’s thigh, gently squeezing every once in a while. She let out a breath, “This is not I wanted this anniversary to go.” She mumbled.
“We should’ve celebrated months ago.” Harry spoke. Claire turned to face him, “What? Why?”
He had a small smile on his lips, “Because I fell for you months before we first kissed.”
“I know.” She smiled back, “I knew you had a little crush on me.”
“Was more than a little crush.” Harry admitted, “I felt so jealous knowing you were going on dates with these other guys.”
“You called yourself an eternal bachelor.” Claire remembered, “Didn’t sound like you were available.”
Harry shrugged, “And I didn’t think I was. You proved me wrong. Haven’t been available for anyone besides you and I don’t plan on it.”
Claire held his hand as they drove through the dark streets, “You cursed me out the first time we met.”
He shortly glanced in the rearview mirror to see both boys asleep, “I was an asshole.” He muttered. Claire giggled under her breath, “A bit, yeah.”
They both smiled to themselves when they remembered how their relationship came to be. How unconventional it was. They came from different worlds and backgrounds but somehow both found their perfect match in one another. A blended family with some rough edges, but so much love.
Harry remembered their first time. How nervous he was and how he fell in love with Claire’s body. Even the scars from what Evan put her through. He loved on her scars, kissing away the memories as often as he could. In bed, in the shower, in the kitchen, in the car… Wherever they could get some time for themselves.
And Claire remembered the huge change in her life when she accepted Harry’s love. When she accepted Finn into her life and nurtured him like he was her own. Harry’s fingers played with Claire, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
“Didn’t you say we were having Atlas’ favourite meal?” Claire smiled. Her heart felt heavy thinking of Atlas and the conversations they were yet to have. He saw too much today. He didn’t have to live through those hours feeling like his father didn’t want him. Claire wanted to promise him he’d never have to see him again if he didn’t want to. 
It was a horrible position, wanting your children to have two parents. She didn’t want to take it away from him, the possibility of having a father. But she also didn’t want to witness him being so disappointed by Evan over and over again. He saw her get hit today and he saw violence, even in Harry. He was too young for that. Claire wasn’t sure how he coped.
Atlas crawled into her side later that night. On the couch, he fell asleep almost immediately with his thumb in his mouth and his head on her chest. It hurt her breasts and his knee pushed into her sore stomach but she let him. She stroked his hair in comfort and when Claire had to get up to pee, he cuddled into Harry instead. Finn and Atlas both leaned into a side of his and he kissed both their foreheads as Claire watched.
They tucked them in bed and allowed them to sleep in the same room tonight. It would comfort Atlas, they both thought. And Harry spooned Claire later that evening. He was careful and gentle, sponging kisses over her bare shoulder as she felt warm and safe against his chest.
“Are you sure?” He asked and Claire nodded, staring into the darkness of their bedroom, “Yes. I’m taking him back to court. I-I can’t keep doing this.” She decided.
Harry hummed, “I’m so proud of you, my love. I think it’s the right decision. Atlas is safest here with you.”
Claire thought back of the entire day. How the lady from social services came to her after talking to Atlas, how she told Claire that apparently Atlas heard Evan cursing Claire out. Calling her a whore. No seven year-old should know those words.
Social services were also going to have a chat with Evan, but the proof spoke for itself. According to her lawyer, it’d be an easy win in court to get her full custody. 
“Do you think it’s what Atlas wants?” Claire softly asked.
“I’m sure of it.” Harry spoke without missing a beat, “You’re the best person for him, Claire. He’s not an idiot, he knows how much you do for him. He respects you so much and he loves you so much.”
Claire let out a breath, rolling on her back with a soft wince. Harry stared at her face and leaned in to kiss her, “You’re so strong.” He murmured against her lips, “I admire you so much. I could never do what you do.”
“I don’t think I have a choice.” Claire whispered back. Harry hummed and kissed her again, “Maybe not. But Atlas will never forget this.”
“I just want to move on.” Claire spoke, “Without him. Like close that chapter of life and… move onto the next. With Atlas and you and Finn. Start our family like we want to without constantly looking over my shoulder. I-I don’t even want or need his money, I just want him gone.”
“I know.” Harry nodded, “We’ll get there.”
She sighed, “I hope so.”
“And we can start trying again whenever you think you’re ready.” Harry assured her, kissing her softly again. Their lips kept brushing together as they exchanged soft whispers.
“I am ready.” Claire spoke, “So ready. I-I think I’ll start tracking it better too, like when I’m ovulating and everything. I really want this baby, Harry.”
His heart skipped a beat and he felt Claire’s hand running through his curls, “Me too.”
Claire licked her lip, “Would you want a boy or a girl?”
Harry smiled and puckered his lips, “I’m honesty fine with either. I think I’d be so worried if it’s a girl though. Like I’d go all dad-mode on her and overprotect her. She wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house ever.”
Claire giggled, fighting the pain in her stomach as she did so, “That’d be funny.”
“For us, yes. For her, no.” He chuckled, bumping his nose with Claire’s, “How about you.”
“I like having boys.” She whispered, “I think I’m a boy-mum. But I wouldn’t mind having a girl either.”
Harry hummed, getting slightly more comfortable, “How many more kids do you want?”
“Two.” Claire whispered.
“You want four in total?” Harry raised his brows and Claire nibbled her lip, “Mhm. I like Finn and Atlas being close in age. I’d like that for the next two also.”
“How about twins?”
Claire breathed out a chuckle, “I’d be huge.”
“You’d be amazing.” Harry smiled back, “And so sexy. Your tits would be incredible.”
“Oh my god.” Claire laughed, “You’re unbelievable.”
“I love your body, Claire. Pregnant or not. I’ll always worship you.” He promised, “Kiss you and make love to you.”
“I sense an obsession.”
“You sensed correctly.”
They laughed while kissing and Claire stroked her fingers, playing with the curls in the back of his neck, “When are you going to put a ring on my finger?”
“So impatient.” Harry teased, kissing down her throat, “You’ll see.”
Claire’s cheeks flushed as she smiled up at the ceiling, “So you plan on it?”
“Of course. I’ve been planning for a long time.” He murmured, “Wife you up.”
Claire sputtered out a laugh, “You sound like a frat boy saying that.”
“What can I say, you make me feel young again.” Harry smiled. He felt so light and breezy around Claire. Like there were no worries around them and they hadn’t just had this shitty day. Like all was well in the world. She just made him feel like that, every single day.
No stress, no hurries, no nothing.
“How about after Christmas break we drop the boys off at school together?” Harry suggested, “There’s family meet-ups too in January. I want us to go together, as a couple. For Finn and Atlas.”
“You do?” Claire asked and Harry nodded, “Mhm. I mean, I think it’s obvious already since you went to pick up Finn when he was sick that one time I was with a client.” He remembered the moment right before summer and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Dolores looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head.”
“You know she’s going to invite you to play golf with her, right?” Harry teased, “When she finds out we’re together?”
Claire huffed, “I’m sure she’ll ask all sorts of questions, she’s obsessed with you.”
“She thinks you’re a bad influence on me. With your foul mouth.”
“Oh, please.” Claire laughed, “She just wants to hop on your dick. I’m sure she’ll ask me all sorts of details.”
“Yeah?” Harry rolled on top of Claire again, a shit-eating grin on his lips, “Are you going to tell her how I make you scream?”
Claire arched into him, “Mhm. Big time.”
“And how I make you squirt?”
“That was one time.” Claire deadpanned and Harry laughed into her neck, “Yeah, the first time we had sex. It was fucking hot.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down.”
“I felt like I’d won the lottery.” He admitted and Claire shook her head with a laugh, “You’re insufferable. And you still won the lottery with me, hm?”
“I sure did.” Harry murmured, kissing her deeply again. He could feel Claire’s thighs tensing around him, her foot trying to slide the boxers down his thighs. He smiled into her lips, “Are you going to tell Dolores about my tongue?”
Claire bit her lip, “You might have to remind me.”
“Fuck, gladly.” Harry ducked underneath the sheets in an instant, not wasting any time. He loved going down on Claire more than anything. She was sensitive to him and she breathed out shakily by the time Harry spread her thighs with his fingers and pulled her panties to the side.
His eyes closed when he got his mouth on her, licking and flicking to drive her crazy. She tasted sweet and familiar, a sense of comfort washing over Harry to be so intimate with someone he felt so comfortable around. It was a dream, being like this with Claire.
His nose pressed into her clit as his tongue pulsed in and out of her. Claire gasped and stuttered out praises before pulling his hair and Harry caught on, feeling how wet she was. He locked his lips around her clit to suck in soft pulses, and her fingers tightly grabbed the pillow next to her as she bucked her hips back into him.
Claire finished on his tongue and begged for his cock next. Harry laced their fingers together before easily sliding inside of her. Claire keened, exhaling in relief at the feeling of his cock filling her again. She was greedy for him and so open.
“Are you gonna tell Dolores I make you cry?” He rasped, keeping his thrusts slow and savouring, yettaking Claire deep and hard at the same time. She lolled her head to the side, “Stop talking about Dolores when you’re fucking me.” She squeaked out and Harry breathed out a laugh, “I wanna get you pregnant.” He whispered.
Claire moaned and nodded quickly, “Yes – fuck, yes. Please… Get me pregnant. Fill me.”
“’M gonna make it stick, babe.” Harry promised lowly, squeezing her fingers as he rocked his hips passionately, taking her in missionary and catching her breaths between his lips, “Gonna get you all filled up and stay inside of you.”
“Yes.” Claire lazily breathed, “Please, please… I need it.”
“I know.” Harry panted, “Fuck – I know. Claire, ‘m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.” He warned lowly. She gasped at the feeling of a rough thrust and nodded, “Uh-huh.”
Claire kept bucking against him as Harry came inside of her for the second time that day. He buried his face in the crook of her neck to keep down his moans, his knuckles white from squeezing her fingers so hard. Claire squeezed back, their hands interlocking as he filled her with his release.
She kept clenching and he kept grinding, giving her every little drop until he shuddered and whimpered in sensitivity. Harry tried to hold up his weight and not hurt Claire, but he couldn’t. His muscles gave up as he panted out harshly, gasping into her neck. His cock twitched between her warm walls and Claire sighed out too.
The position was slightly painful but not too uncomfortable. Harry kissed the swell of her breast, “Fuck, I love you.” He breathed.
“I love you too.” She whispered, “So much.”
He hummed and closed his eyes, staying entwined for a bit.
Eventually Harry want back to spooning Claire, using the tip of his softened dick to scoop up any of his spilled release and pushing back into her. She squeaked at that, melting into his chest as he held her close.
The next few months would consist of trying to get rid of Evan for good. It’d be a battle and something Claire really rather wouldn’t do. For her, and mostly for Atlas. She felt incredibly guilty putting him through all of that. But Claire felt loved and supported and Harry was steady as a rock behind her, catching her every single time.
And knowing that, Claire and Harry knew they’d always have their happy ending one way or another.
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