#'oh--no apron?' LADS

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred: Who is this?

Seven year old Bruce: His name is Danny. He's my older brother

Alfred: You're an only child. You don't have a brother.

Bruce: Mom? Dad? Do I have a brother?

Thomas: I only ever loved your mother, and I find baby-making repulsive—no offense, Brucie—so biologically, no, you don't have a brother. Emotionally, on the other hand, if you feel like he is your brother, I don't mind calling him my son. It's not like I can't afford it, nor can this lad outrun me.

Alfred: That's... kidnaping, sir.

Martha: Oh don't be so uptight Alfred. You Brits worrry about the sillist of things.

Alfred: Silly thing? You mean the law!?

Martha: Yes, that's a pesky thing. Besides, he has my eyes and Thomas' nose! That's obviously our son.

Bruce considering Danny: He does have your nose, dad.

Thomas proud: A chip off the old block that one. Good job catching your brother Brucie.

Bruce: Thank you! I used my innocent face like you said, Mom!

Martha beaming: A pretty face is a valuable weapon, darling!

Alfred whispering to Danny: Blink four times if you want me to get you out of here. The Waynes are not entirely sane.

Danny:..... The kid just said he needed someone to walk him home cause he was lost.

Alfred: That's how they get you. I once offered Master Thomas my coat during a suprise downpour. That was four years ago, and now I'm a butler. He gave me an embroidered apron with the words, "You're mine now, Brit"

[sarawritestories]

Take A Break

High Lord Eris Vanserra X High Lady Fem Reader

Summary: Eris comes home from business at the Spring Court. Only to hear reports from the staff that his High Lady has been working herself to the ground and not taking care of herself.

Dedicated to @milswrites and @eve175 who are constantly making sure I am taking care of me and getting proper rest. I adore you both!

Content Warning: I did not proofread this. This fluff, but Reader hasn't slept and has had some disordered eating habits (she has been working so hard

Peep the Critical Role Reference for any Critters reading this 😉

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Eris Vanserra was glad to be home. Sure, working with Tamlin to rebuild the Court was mutually beneficial. Tamlin gets his court back, and Eris rebuilds a strong alliance with the spring. It was work worth fighting for to repair what Beron destroyed. However, he was itching to get home to his mate.

You were the apple of his eye, the moment the bond snapped on Calanami, his first as High Lord. Eris held no hesitation when it came to making you his High Lady. He watched how hard you worked at your bookshop. He knew you could handle it.

Reaching the stables, The Autumn High Lord handed his esteemed steed to the young fae male working. "Take care of sweet, Vex'ahlia, will you?" Eris gave the lad a warm smile and received an eager head nod. "Thank you."

Entering the palace, he was greeted by your two ladies-in-waiting. "My lord." The older woman bowed the younger one fidgeting, Eris picked up on the nervous behavior. "How was your trip?"

Eris bowed his head in return, "Very well, Maxine, but I am ready to see my wife. Though I suspect with the look on both of your faces, something is wrong." He tugged on the bond and found a quick tug back in return, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.

Maxine sighed, "Sir, she has been sleeping in the study."

"If she sleeps at all." The younger one, Nadine muttered.

Maxine ignored her and continued, "We have barely gotten her to eat. She has buried herself so deep into work that she simply forgets that warm food is right there. I'm not trying to speak out of turn."

Eris gripped the older woman's shoulder, "You are not. I appreciate you telling me. Is she still in the study."

"Yes, High Lord."

Eris laughed, "Maxine, you can call me Eris. After all, you did change my diapers."

Maxine smiled, "I'll you whatever you like if you go take care of that wife of yours."

Eris kissed her cheek, "Yes ma'am," With that, he went to go find his High Lady.

****************************************************

You ran your fingers through your hair as you scribbled notes on some parchment. These last few days, you buried yourself in paperwork. Just when you thought you were done. More stacks would form. Not wanting to fall behind and with Eris being gone, you had decided to dedicate the time to working. Only to find you were getting overwhelmed, feeling like you could never walk away, missing meals, not sleeping, you were burning out.

You turned to grab more blank parchment when a voice came from the doorway, "Now what do we have here." You turned to find Eris there, his red curls laying atop of his head and the russet colors of his eyes gleaming in the fae light."

You dropped the materials in your hands. "When did you get back?" You bounced off your seat and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I just got here." He held you close, taking in your scent. "I heard something interesting, though."

You blinked, "Oh?"

He kissed your head, "My Little Dove has not been taking care of herself." You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips to yours. "There is no fighting me on this."

You sighed, "Okay."

He winnowed you to the kitchen. It being so late the kitchen staff was gone. Eris put on an Apron and you quirked a brow. "You cook?"

Eris smiled, "I do." He tossed an apron at you. "And I am going to show you how to make my favorite me." Your cheeks warmed, remembering how you gave him a small plate of cheese to accept the bond.

You walked over to him, "Ready to Learn."

****************************************************

Cooking with Eris was fun, and you learned that the high lord had a playful side. He'd sneak up behind you to try the sauce you were making. Dipping his finger to dab it on your nose, causing you to giggle. Once everything was cooking he pulled you into his arms and you began to dance.

He pulled you into a waltz with no music. And you watched as his smile grew, his freckles popping out by the fire and the fae lights. He wasn't worried about work, or his brothers, or his responsibilities. He was beautiful.His main focus was you. He pulled you closer, his hands sliding close to the curve of your ass. He kissed you.

He tried to deepen the kiss, but the kettle screamed that the water was boiling. Pulling away, you smiled and grabbed the kettle. Once the meal was prepped, Eris made your place and insisted he feed you.

"I am fully capable of feeding myself. I am High Lady." You pouted and Eris quirked a brow instantly causing you to fix your attitude.

"Yes, you are my High Lady. You're also zeroed in on your work so much this week you barely ate. So I am taking care of you." He patted his lap, "Sit, Dove." You obeyed, and the smell of the food made your mouth water. He scooped up some of the food with the utensil and leveled it to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth on command, and he placed the food in your mouth, and you moaned in pleasure. The flavor exploded in your mouth.

He fed you until the meal was gone. "Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

You met his Russet eyes and sighed, "I didn't do it on purpose. It simply felt like everyone needed me. I just lost track of time."

He sighed and kissed your bare shoulder peaking out of your sweater. "You need breaks. They are important. You'll burn yourself out or wither away into nothing if you don't." His eyes grew serious, "I don't want to see my mate suffering."

"I'm sorry." You leaned your head against his.

"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to yourself. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself as worthy of breaks." He held you close. "Okay."

"Okay... I may need gentle reminders." You whispered, a full belly causing the exhaustion to take hold.

"I will give you those gentle reminders." He kissed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. Allowing the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon from your mate to bring you comfort.

When you fell asleep, Eris carried you in his arms. Hands wrapped around your knees and shoulders and walked you to your shared bedroom. Placing you on your side of the bed, he pulled the covers over you. "Sweet Dreams, Little Dove." He kissed your head, causing you to stir and just turn over. The High Lord left your room and headed to your study where he would finish the paperwork that was stacked on your desk.

Fin

@secret-third-thing for your Eris reading pleasure

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby, Pain is Pleasure - Part 3

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART!- 

SMUT,  GIRL X GIRL, MAN X MAN, POLY RELATIONSHIPS/SEXUAL, BDSM, BLOOD, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) CHEATING, STALKERS/ STALKING

I’m going to apologize to you all now, and prewarn you in advance, this is an absolute rollercoaster of a storyline! Shits about to get REAL messy! 

TAG LIST - @babybatlover

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure – Part 3

Late afternoon had seen the sun burn the remainder of the clouds from the sky, leaving a beautiful blue horizon view from across the backyard. Flocks of birds gathered as they headed over the break line, waving in and out of the smoke coming from our BBQ pit. 

I sat, gently rocking my feet back and forth on the chair egg swing we had attached to one of the older grand oak trees in our yard. It was all I had wanted when we moved in, somewhere calm and content where I could just exist. Enjoy my time, enjoy my life, and admire the world around me. Ponder life’s big questions… 

‘LOCKER WITNESSES’ 

I re read that message repeatedly in my mind, who was it from? witnessed what? 

I had deleted the other text from my phone, I wasn’t going down that road. 

The sounds of two men’s deep voices bought me back, looking over to my lovers I could see Finn & Damien adorned in their matching ‘TOP CHEF’ aprons and cooking utensils with a beer in hand, either chatting away or debating about how best to cook the chicken. 

Whilst further down on the sun loungers, Rhea had stripped down to one of her thin black bikinis with the metal skull clip fastenings, she was catching the last of the sunrays to her already perfect Sunkissed skin.  Christ, how did I get so lucky as to be a part of this incredible love…. Pentagon? It’s a five-way love triangle, let’s leave it at that.

When we had been initially searching for a house to buy, one to really call home that is; we had all had something in mind we desperately wanted as a feature. We knew it needed to be a big house, one with a master bedroom where we could assemble out two King size beds that had been custom made to attach in the middle, I cannot begin to tell you how comfortable and comforting it is being held close and safe by the four people you love more than anything in the world. 

The guilt though…

Still, obviously Rhea & Finn were dead set on having a large garage/ open internal space to set up the home gym. Of course, whilst on the road we still used a lot of public gyms and one-off hotel workout rooms here and there, but when we are at home, in each other’s company, away from the world, the fans, all that attention. It is so lovely knowing we don’t have to leave our little safe haven.

Damian had specifically made it clear he wanted a huge kitchen, open planned that backed into a dinning area. When we moved in, he had taken the time to build up a barista style coffee corner and a breakfast station on the central island. Then with Finn’s help, they worked on a D.I.Y project together to design and create a full bar set up next to the table and chairs where we ate. They had eventually given in and allowed Dom to help with the painting of the bar, because he wanted to be a ‘DIY Man’ too. 

The boys always referred to it as the lad’s corner, a custom-built wooden bar that was painted a deep tranquil green and black with illuminated LED letters on the wall; ‘ALL RISE, ALL DRINK’.   That however did not stop Rhea and I from emptying some of those back bar bottles on one of many messy nights! For some reason, whenever Rhea breaks out the Tequila, we always end up playing strip twister… Odd. 

Dominick, of course… wanted a gaming room. Not just any gaming room mind you, a ‘Mens” gaming room. 

*Sigh* 

Problem is he is just so adorable at times, and we all give in, he had been granted his request of course! Although Priest put his foot down when Dom had asked for an indoor arcade style basketball hoop game, he was allowed a hoop outside but that was it. We had all seen enough broken windows during the season when Finn had tried to teach Damien and Dominick how to play golf. 

It still makes me laugh when the boys talk about how they would feel guilty that they were off spending time together, while Rhea and I would miss out? Ha. Little did they know when they buggered off to do ‘man’s stuff’ we girls would high tail it upstairs to the family bathroom and strip off into the bathtub for some… girl’s time. *Wink Wink* 

I remember one morning; Rhea and I were standing in the arched doorway at the crack of dawn waving the boys off as they set out on an early start to play a full days Golf. Leaning into her chest I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes as she bent her head down and nuzzled her lips into the crook of my neck. 

“I tell you now Y/N, I would rather run the risk of drowning when we get in that bathtub, and I bury my face deep in your pussy… then stand in a damp field hitting a stick at a ball.” Her teeth nipped at the skin of my ear lobe and my entire body melted at her touch. 

Christ the things that woman does to me. 

A loud crash had bought me back to reality, Dom had been trying to carry a tray of drinks out to the garden for us all but had tripped over some excess weigh plates we had left outside, sending the poor lad flying arse over tit. 

“Shit! God damn it, ow fuck!” Dom pulled himself up to his knees, swiping the drinks tray away in frustration before noticing blood trickling down his arm from the glasses that he had smashed across the decking. He was quick to freeze, unable to process what to do next or how to stand up safely. 

Rhea was quick to make her way over to him from the sun lounger, followed by Damian who handed Finn his spatula and beer before rushing over to help the poor lad. 

I know, I know I should have been focused on the fact that the boy I loved so much needed some help, some TLC, compassion, and support… 

But I am only human. 

And Rhea Bloody Ripley…. 

Running….

In a mini black laced bikini…

Slightly wet from the heat of the sun touching her skin, God how she glistened. How she got my motor running and…

Finn had noticed my distraction and whistled loudly, gathering my attention. 

“Aye! Lass, enough of that! Go... Take a lap!” He gestured, pointing to the end of the field in our garden. The yard stretched about 1/4 of a mile down and was cut off by the woodland. One of my favorite things about this house was the nature that came with it. It all felt so…natural and back down to earth compared to the chaos and mayhem at WWE. 

Pointing his BBQ tongs and Damian’s spatula at me, Finn raised his eyebrow. 

“No distractions, ya hear!” 

I tried not to laugh at his remark, turning my face away to hide my snicker and rolling my eyes. I was still wearing my gym gear from before; except I had nabbed one of Dominick’s merch shirts on the way to the garden from the drying rack, I was self-conscious about my stomach, and I liked to hide my body where I could. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?!” Finn sternly questioned me as he put the utensils down. 

At this point Rhea was taking Dom inside through the double doors, whilst Damian stood back up and turned in my direction. 

Fuck… they are hot when they get all dominant. 

“Mi Vida, did you roll your eyes?” Damian’s words were colder, flat, and prominent. I could tell he was almost looking for a reason to get me upstairs into the bedroom. Christ I was half tempted to give him a solid reason. 

Put me across your lap Papa Priest, let me feel the strength between your thighs and lay it into me Goddamn it! 

The devil on my shoulder sang its heart out at the idea, but I remembered earlier when Finn has spun the actions back against me. Leaving me alone and sexually frustrated I thought better of the situation. 

“Me? I would never…” I said quite obnoxious/sarcastically and smiled that cheeky brat look at them before hopping up off the tree swing. I could see Damian trying not to break or give in… but a slight smirk crept into the corner of his lips.  

“I’m going to take a lap!” I stated and grinned before making a run for it, heading down and out of sight from the lads. I had a much better plan in mind to deal with my frustrations when I got in the shower later anyway. 

I was out of breath by the time I got back towards our street, less than a ¼ mile to go! I had decided to go for a proper run to clear my mind. A good few miles should do the trick, that’s what Rhea always said! With my headphones in and a decent playlist on, nothing was going to stop me! 

One foot after another I pressed on, sweat dripping down my neck I desperately tried to Shake off all that nervous energy I had built up now that WrestleMania was less than 2 weeks away. I had been on edge at times, and it showed when I trained in the ring with Rhea and Dom. Running back-to-back moves, counters, pins, and submissions, it was like every time I thought I had learnt it someone would come along and wipe my slate clean, and I knew nothing again. 

Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a champion? 

Maybe I was out of my depth? 

Rhea should be in this match not me. 

Me? Y/W/N? Was I really cut out to be a champion? 

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket as I continued running. I tried looking at my smart watch as I ran, though it was tricky to focus on a smaller screen. 

I could see a couple messages from Finn stating the food was ready, one from Damian also telling me the food was ready, one from Dom telling me he was going to eat my hot dog if I didn’t hurry up and one from Rhea telling me she wasn’t going to let Dom touch my food. 

Honestly this lot, I love them so much. 

Turning into our street I could see our house gate entrance just up the hill, with a little spring in my step I pushed on feeling like I was picking up speed. I felt energized, I felt incredible, maybe I could do this after all! 

With the gate just in reach and the sweet smokey smell of the BBQ lingering in the air I put my head down to push those least few feet… 

But within a split second I felt something behind me. 

The music cut out as my headphones were launched to the floor and my arms locked in tight by a strength I hadn’t ever had to match. Kicking my legs out I felt them rise off the floor and before I could even fathom the mental capacity to make a sound the feeling of sticky back plastic tape suckered its way in across my lips. My eyes pooled up as the bag went over my head and my vision became darkness. A hard and cold metal floor was met with my body weight as I was hurled inside, my heart beating out of my chest the fear became all too real as I felt the ground under move away at speed. 

A hot breath came down my neck, raising every last hair on my skin to react. The voice was muffled, as if speaking through a mask. 

“You did this Y/N…” 

“You did this… and now you cannot handle the monster you created.” 

The silence in between each word was deafening, but it was the next voice that bought the fear of God into my soul. 

“ Told you I’d find you...miss me?” 

TO BE CONTINUED

[thegnomelord]

I REALLY LOVE THE STRAIGHTFOWARD WEREWOLVES SOAP. OMG. Its just really funny in my head, imagine the way soap would act so shameless around the reader, uncaring about the stare he got because thats just how they are! The werewolves race with their no-shit and unfiltered attitude, and oh if they take interest in you, prepare your heart especially if you has a weak one; because surely they'll cling their every waking moment with you, sniffing every spots of you that they can reach. Absurd yet endearing flirtiratios compliments would hurled at you, catching you off guard cause they just come out of nowhere. Baring their fangs at potential rivals, worst case scenario if its their own race, because they can and will get violent, best calmed the werewolves down before anything awful happened. Just a thing between werewolves to prove which one is the stronger and more qualified, whose more worthy of your love, in their point of view.

If you have the time can you make a short fic, it would be the highlight of my life for weeks!!

Okay yes but also because I love needy clingy pathetic Soap too much lol

CW: NSFW, gn reader, grinding, somnophillia, quick and rough.

You've noticed that Soap has started to act. . . strange.

He's started trying to feed you all types of stuff, mostly meat, seeking you out at all times of the day. You'll see him go out to the woods and come back with some large animal, and an hour later he'll be coming to you with a plate of food and a 'Kiss the cook' apron on (every time you have to bite back from drawing attention to the fact the arrows point down to his dick). "Hey, need that wonderful mouth of yer's to try this out." He says, watching with rapt attention as you try his food, taking every critique with a wagging tail.

And if you like his food, oh, there's a giant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, ye like that?" He comes closer, the plate in your hands forcing distance between you two. "Reckon this cook should get a reward." He's already stepping around to press his chest flush with your back before he can finish his sentence, and you don't have the heart to stop him because the food is mouth watering and he's just scenting you, even if the occasional flick of his tongue against your nape makes you shiver. (You, again, try not to draw attention to a hard bulge grinding into your ass)

That's the other thing. He's gotten really clingy.

He's always been clingy with all the team members, nuzzling his cheek against Gaz, whining like a kicked puppy when pushes him away with a hand on his face, tail wagging as he scents Price. Usually he's satisfied after he's done scenting the lads in your team, happy to continue with his business.

But with you. . .

You can't even sit on the couch for five seconds before his burly body is snuggling up to you, taking his seat in your lap like he owns it, like he's a lap dog. Doesn't even excuse himself before his hands are groping your biceps as he nuzzles your neck. "Aye, yer so hoht," He purrs, full body rubbing against you. "Could use ye fer a blanket on cold nights." You don't know how to feel about that, his words causing your mind to stutter long enough for him to replace the scents lingering on you with his own.

And when someone enters to find you like this, he doesn't even throw them a glance, gripping onto you like a koala and all you can do is mouth a 'help me'. Doesn't work though, as the second he senses someone is getting near he's growling like a monster truck's engine, glaring at the poor sod with his face still stuck in your neck.

Or, if you're busy with something, he'll saddle up to you, ears perked up. "Oi, bonnie, hold som'ting fer me." He'll whine, tugging on your arm until you sigh.

"Fine, just give it here." You growl, holding out your arm, still concentrated on what you're doing.

Next thing you know you're cupping his jaw, his head resting on your hand. "Anyone ever tell ye, yer got perfect hands te grope with?" Johnny grins at you, that one snaggletooth fang pinching his lip, using your confusion to rub the scent glands in his cheeks against your palm, making sure you smell like him.

You shake out of your stupor and pull your hand back, resisting giving in when he gives you such a heartbroken whine. "No, Johnny." You growl and shoo him away, but he still manages to brush his tail against your leg.

You make the mistake to fall asleep on the communal couch after a grueling day of training recruits. When Johnny finds you, his nose immediately trying to get a whiff of your scent, he growls when he can barely get traces of it beneath the smell of dirt and sweat and way too many people when the only scent you should have on you is his. His inner wolf growls along with him, his ears pricking up straight, staring at your sleeping form.

He's more than happy to rectify your mistake.

He lays on top of you, purring happily to himself when you don't even shift. "Good mate," He hums to himself, wrapping around you like a blanket, face buried in your neck once again. His hands slide beneath your shirt, making him pant into your skin from the sensation of your muscles beneath his hands. He moves his body slowly, seeking to have as much skin contact as he can, mouth watering and angel bells ringing in his skull at how he can taste his scent replacing everyone else's on your skin.

He doesn't notice when he starts to nibble on your neck, but it's the sensible next move, what better way to keep competition away than let everyone know you're taken? Johnny's marks bloom across your throat as he sucks hickeys into your skin, his wolf and himself standing on common ground to make sure you're covered in his marks.

He pulls back his head to look at his work and groans, cock immediately hardening in his pants from you covered in his marks. His hips gain a life of their own, thighs gripping your own as he grinds down, already half drunk on your scent.

You wake up to find his hot breath fanning over your face, the sensation of something hard grinding against your leg dissipating any residual drowsiness. "Johnny, what the fuck?" You ask, voice rough from sleep, only now registering his weight on top of you.

"'m sorry bonnie," Johnny whines, burying his face into your neck to muffle his whining. "Just- hah- needed ye."

You grumble, but you can't hide the way heat burns through your veins at the sight of him, his face flushed, claws gripping you like you'll disappear, desperately humping against your leg.

"I can see that." You say, tensing your thigh to give aid him in his grinding, your eyes growing wide at the loud moan that escapes him, like he's a whore on camera.

"Oh, shite, thank ye, thank ye, thank ye-" He whines, his humping growing faster, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way you hadn't pushed him away, that you're accepting his advances, muttering 'mate' under his breath as he chases after his orgasm.

He cums before either one of you knows it, a dark stain forming in his pants as he bites down and groans into your neck. You grunt, but Soap's quick to release your skin and lap at the aching spots with his tongue, soothing the pain.

"'m sorry bonnie." He mumbles, cock still hard in his pants, his wolfish eyes settling on you. Shame nibbles on his stomach for cumming so fast when he can't smell a lot of arousal on you, his wolf growling at him to show you how good he can be.

You jump when his hand slides down to grip your crotch roughly, his pupils dilating at the way a small moan slips past your lips. "Lemme make it up fer ye yeah?"

[plutaztix]

Finished first draft designs of the hazbin cast- Alastor., Charlie, Angeldust, Nifty , and Vaggie.

Some of them got minor redesigns while others got revamped, so I’ll be going down the line and discussing my reasoning for each one (please note, these are not perfect, and probably are not animator friendly, I did this for fun, and a lot of the decisions I made were because I felt like it. Do not throw a fit if you don’t like them)

Alastor- when redesigning alastor I focused on 3 major details: that he was from the 1920s-1930s, he was from the south, and that he was a “radio demon”. I took away the voodoo stuff cause that felt like a really weird way to associate him with Louisiana culture, and instead went for the more “southern gentleman” feel using the slicked back hair and simple clothes. I also replaced his monocle with a full pair of glasses, because I think not being able to see his eyes makes him more menacing, same thing with the straight teeth. I made his color palette into warm browns to kind of give the vibe of an old timey radio- with a highlight of gold as well. Side note: I like to imagine he doesn’t open his mouth, and instead it just lights up like an actual radio- cause I think that’s cool character flavor. I also kept his deer motif cause ,apparently, it was supposed to connect with how he died- plus I’m always a sucker for the kind of evil character that has an innocent animal theme, super fun. (Also his microphone is sentient and does change the text depending on the situation)

Charlie Morningstar- I think Charlie is a lovely character, she’s one of favorites, but she felt pretty plain in some aspects. I learned that she was kind of inspired by porcelain dolls, which gave me an interesting idea of making into kind of a “devils Pinocchio”- because what’s more innocent than a doll imbued with the power of her father’s dreams? So I really leaned into the soft friendly doll look, giving her ball joints and large eyes that stare into your soul. I softened a lot of her colors and gave her rounder shapes as well as leaning into the goat aspects of her character, because i thought it could be fun to have her play off the deer motif that alastor has.

Angel Dust- My boy , my good lad. He is also pretty solid when it comes to design , however- HE DID NOT LOOK LIKE A SPIDER. I had no idea that his freckles were supposed to be eyes until I rewatched it. Soooo I definitely tried to make him more spider like by making his eyes more prominent and giving him pointy side burns that act as mandibles. I also gave him him his spider butt and some weird ass legs. Oh and , unrelated, I like to imagine he does burlesque.

Nifty- MY FAVORITEE , I love nifty guys, she’s my POOKIE bear. When going into her design I knew I wanted to make her look older since I thought it was weird how much she was infantilized so I gave her lipstick and pearl earrings to make her look more like a refine 1950s housewife, as well as give her an apron and cleaning gloves to make her feel more like a maid. I also leaned into her subtle bug theme by giving her antennae, and giving polka dots on her dress for a very subtle lady bug theme (cause she’s my little lady). Some more small things I gave her a little swirl in her bangs to call back to victory rolls, as well as some subtle hints of green to call back to the uranium craze of that time.

Vaggie- she was difficult. Initially, I had no idea what I wanted to do with her, but I think that’s also because she’s not a very fleshed out character? Her whole story is kind of , Support Charlie and be a fallen angel.(still love chaggie tho) So I took some creative liberties, and gave her a more mature look- with some periwinkle to act as a subtle hint to her angelic nature. I also gave her the monocle from alastor design cause I thought it made more sense for her? Like, if anyone is gonna have the one eyed visual aid it’s gonna be the bitch with one eye. It also makes her look more matured? And I gave her a moth broach to call back to her moth inspo.

Annnd that’s it! I’ll be working on the next batch soon, which will likely have husk and sir pentious, if you have any other people you wanna see lmk!

[fandomnsfw]

Cherry - James Potter x Barmaid!Reader

Pairing: James Potter x Barmaid!Reader

Prompt: the songs Cherry by Harry Styles and the song Best Friends by Rex Orange County

Warnings: smut basically. (Also first song type fic so go easy on me!)

No Beta today lovelies let me know about spelling errors. ENJOY!!!

***********

You clutched your jacket to your body, running as fast as you could, your heart pounding against your chest as your lungs fought to take in more air. Your hair was whipping in the wind as you sped around the corner straight towards The Three Broomsticks. The second you burst into the pub everyone stared at you in mild shock before going about their evening. 

“Y/N your late!” Rosmerta huffed making you pout. 

“I know I was up late helping my sister with her homework.” You sighed as you slid the denim jacket off your shoulders before wrapping the plain black apron around your waist, putting your notepad and pen in the left pocket then your small tea towel hanging out the right pocket. 

“Be warned The Marauders are playing tonight so it's gonna be packed.” Rosmerta explained as she began ringing someone up. 

“O-Oh. Awesome.” You stuttered as you tried to control your emotions. 

“Don’t tell me you still fancy Ja--

“I am well aware he has Lily you don’t need to remind me.” You glared at her making her eyes widen. 

“Actually, they split up about 6 months ago.” Rosmerta whispered with a smirk. 

“R-Really?” You whispered trying to conceal the small flicker of hope. 

“There was a rumour that she found out one of his songs was about another girl.” You heard Frank whisper behind you making you jump a little. 

“I hate it when you do that. That’s the most stupid rumour I’ve ever heard.” You snorted with an eye roll. 

“It’s Cherry.” Her stated and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t think I’ve heard it.” You muttered with a frown. 

You had gone to school with both the Marauders and The Valkyries. You had been friends with them for the most part but they weren’t people you overly saw outside of school. So, when school finished you never really spoke to them again. When you got a job here, you’d occasionally see them after they performed. However, when they got more popular, they started doing bigger gigs. You had even dated James in year 9 when you were both 13 but you were kids, so it didn’t last. You both thought you were so mature, calling each other baby and kissing cutely behind the side of the science block.

You grinned at the adorable memory before shaking it off just in time to see The Marauders walk through the side door. You looked up to see those same hazel eyes, even to this day you would recognise in a crowd, even after all this time they still made you heart clench. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, it felt surreal. 

“Holy shit! Is that little Y/N Y/L/N?” You heard Sirius shouted excitedly making you tear your eyes away from James who was staring at you liked he’d seen a ghost. 

“We were in the same year, ya’ fuckin’ numpty.” You snorted making Sirius grin. 

“Hey show some respect! I'm a rockstar now!” Sirius laughed causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ha! I don’t give a shit if you're selling out 100,000 tickets love. This is my domain.” You snickered before passing him a beer.

“How’s Evan? You guys have been together since...year 10 right?” Sirius asked excitedly as he sipped his beer. 

“We broke up, about 2 years ago actually.” You muttered awkwardly as you tried to busy yourself drying the rim of a glass with your tea towel. 

“Oh! That sucks.” Remus sighed sadly as his eyes flickered towards James. 

“Right, I'm letting in the crazies so get yourself set up lads!” Rosmerta shouted as she pointed to the small stage in the corner of the pub. 

You watched the set as the boys played happily, they hadn’t changed in the slightest, even now with such a serious fanbase. They were still fun and down to earth. You watched the first few songs with interest as you served the gaggles of girls that were cheering too loudly but you couldn’t blame them. They’re in their element up on stage, like they’d always been. You chuckled as Remus and Peter told the other two they needed a break. 

“We’re gonna play Cherry whilst our Drummer and Bassist take a break.” James muttered breathlessly into the mic.

Sirius began playing a beautiful tune on his acoustic guitar that you instantly felt a connection with. It almost sounded like the first random tune James created when he first learnt to play guitar. You decided to take you break and stand a little closer to the stage. This is the song Frank had said was about someone else. When James started singing you listened to the lyrics intently. 

‘Don't you call him baby. We're not talking lately, Don't you call him what you used to call me.’ He looked at the floor as he sang making you frown in confusion, he usually sang with a lot more confidence, until he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

‘I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best, I'm selfish so I'm hating it.’ His eyes bore into yours and you couldn’t understand why, but you figured maybe the spotlight was obstructing his view.

‘I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress, Take it as a compliment. Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me’ You frowned as you realised he was wearing a red plaid shirt over a white T-shirt similar to one you had back in school. Don’t be stupid Y/N it’s not about you, you thought to yourself.

‘I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends. Did you know I still talk to them? Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?’ You instantly felt your heart stop as your eyes widened. This song was about you, Evan’s parents owned an art gallery in the next town over. You looked for an escape spotting the door to the outdoor smoking area and immediately sped out the pub telling Frank you’d be back soon as you shoved past the hordes of girls. 

“You okay Y/N?” You heard someone shout as you got outside. 

“Is that song about me?” You asked blatantly making Remus smile sadly. 

“Its one of them.” Remus answered calmly taking a pull of his fag. 

“THERES MORE?” You shouted, your jaw dropping in shock.

“Yeah, there's also Best Friend that’s an old one though.” Remus laughed calmly, you grabbed the half-smoked fag from his fingertips and took a long drag of it. 

“You were always...the one that got away, I guess. You dated as children, but I think James always wished you guys had waited until later in life.” Remus added making your eyes soften. 

“This isn’t why Lily and James broke up is it?” You asked, guilt swimming in your gut but the question had laughing again. 

“Nah, Lily came out the closet.” Remus chuckled making your eyes widen.

“O-Oh okay.” You chuckled shyly before passing the lit smoke back to Remus which he motion for you to smoke. 

Remus left you to your thoughts as you took drag after drag trying to calm yourself down. Your hands were shaking causing the ash to drop off the cherry-Cherry…why was it called that? You thought curiously your nerves fading into curiosity. Just then you looked up to find those hazel eyes staring at you from the exit of the smoking area.

“Hey.” He muttered like he couldn’t quite believe you were here.

“Why Cherry?” You asked abruptly making his mouth open as if to say something but he paused for a moment before finally speaking.

“You had this red tinted lip gloss…when we dated, it was the girliest thing you owned, and it tasted like Cherry. You wore it everyday for a whole year even after we broke up, then in year 10 you started dating Evan and stopped wearing it.” He answered softly making your heart clench.

“I can’t believe you remember that. That was 12 years ago.” You chuckled in disbelief.

“I remember everything about you…about us. Like how you never used to style your hair because you’d always run your hand through it and ruin it. Or how you didn’t wear much makeup in summer because you have hayfever and are always rubbing your eyes. You used to hate the colour yellow but you think your baby sister looks amazing in it. I remember how you used to love when I’d play with your hair. I also remember the last time we really spoke, it was just after we had finished 6th form and we all went to the pub. You were out having a smoke and Evan had already passed out at the booth. I said to you that I was glad I’d met you and you replied—

—Don’t be such a sap. Just buy me somet nice when yer’ a rockstar.” You finished for him with a laugh which was quickly silenced when you looked at James hand that was holding a box in his hand.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the box like it was about to bite you. He seemed to find this amusing but he swallowed his laugh and opened to box showing you the contents. There sat a white gold chain with a white gold and rose gold cherry pendant hanging off it. He took it out the box, sliding the empty velvet box into his pocket before approaching you. You could feel tears building in your eyes as he came behind you.

“I was jokin’ ya’ fuckin’ sap.” You sniffled so quietly you were sure he heard you.

“I wanna say I forgot how much I love your accent but that would be a lie.” He chuckled happily as he lower the chain around your neck.

His fingers brushed against the skin at the back of your neck causing your body to come alive, goosebumps all over your body, you held your breath, praying this moment would never end. He did the clasp so slowly, you knew it was intentional, but you didn’t care you welcomed it. 

“Can I take you out next week?” He whispered in your ear his hands brushing all the way down your spine over your clothes.

 “Y-Yes.” You stuttered almost breathlessly.

**********

You were just sliding your white strappy heels when the knock on the door came. You brushed off your white satin shirt that was tucked into a grey tight mini skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. You opened the door and instantly saw a bunch of what looked like a bouquet of flowers but when you took a longer glance you realised it was multi coloured chocolate covered fruit made to look like flowers.

“I suggest this be put in your fridge and not a vase.” James joked making you grin.

“Probably for the best. These are awesome, way better than normal flowers.” You giggled as you pulled out two gold dusted white chocolate cover strawberries before placing the ‘bouquet’ into the fridge.

“You’re wearing the lipgloss.” He muttered in shock as you passed him one of the strawberries.

“Well I’m wearing a cherry lipgloss. I don’t think they even sell the brand I had 12 years ago.” You giggled before biting into your own strawberry.

“You look gorgeous.” He muttered happily as he finished his strawberry, popping the stick in the bin before holding out his hand for you.

“I would return the sentiment but you have enough fan girls doing it for me. Where are we going?” You snickered as you slid your hand into his, lacing your fingers together.

“Thought I’d take you to that little Italian place they just opened then maybe dancing?” He muttered nervously making you soften.

“You could’ve said McDonald’s and I’d of been happy cos I’d still be with you.” You replied sweetly making him grin from ear to ear. 

“Careful, you almost sound like a sap.” He teased you playfully.

“I’m not 18 and emotionally stunted. I’m  allowed to be a sap.” You argued with a cute pout on your lips.

“Stop pouting or the only place I’ll be taking you will be the old science block.” He whispered in your ear as you both exited your flat block.

“Mr Potter the scandal!” You exclaimed in a Scottish accent, a clear imitation of the time Ms McGonagall when she’s found you both behind a wall kissing. Though you had joked back your cheek we’re still painted red with James previous ‘threat’.  

“Oh I miss Minnie. I wonder how she’s doing?” James sighed softly with a small smile on his face.

“I see her at Tesco a lot. She seems well. She recently retired lives just at the edge of Hogsmeade in a small cottage.” You answered with a grin.

“I miss living here. Don’t get me wrong I love being able to play music and live with my surrogate brothers but I miss the quiet here. I still come back to see mum and dad but it’s not the same.” James sighed as he looked around at everything around him as you both started walking towards the restaurant hand in hand.

“Could you not live here but still do your gigs?” You asked with a soft frown on your face.

“I never thought so but recently Remus has been talking about being closer to his parents. They moved up here a few years ago when Remus mortgaged them a little cottage with 2 bedrooms. I think he wants to settled down, have some roots. Sirius is a wild card though. He’d rather be in a new city every night. Peter only has his mum so I think he’d be happy to move back here too. So really it’s just Sirius stopping us.” James rambled making you smile at the utter familiarity of it.

“He’s dating that Pop singer right?” You laughed making James roll his eyes.

“I think she really understood him and it freaked him out so he ended it not long before we got here. That’s my guess anyway…he won’t talk to me about it.” James huffed with an eye roll. 

“Idiot.” You snorted as you both saw the restaurant ahead.

James opened the door as you both approached it, his face lighting up when you leaned up to kiss his cheek before walking past him into the restaurant. James stood in front of the host with a polite smile. However when the young woman looked up her face instantly lit up.

“You’re Jame Potter right? The lead singer of the Marauders?” She asked as if trying to keep the excitement out her voice.

“Yeah we have a table booked for 7.” He replied with a smile.

“I love your new song Cherry.” She gushed as she showed him the way your table clearly not even bothering with your presence.

“Thank you! Can we get two glasses of red please? And some menus?” James asked as he pulled out your seat and suddenly the girls eyes were on you. 

She scanned you with a look of mild disgust until she caught sight of something on you that seemed to have her flushing, with anger or embarrassment, you weren’t sure but you looked down and instantly realised you had the Cherry necklace James had given you on.

“Two glasses of red. Got it, here’s your menus.” She stated in a professional tone that made your eyes widen. When she walked away you turned to James with a deadpan look.

“She totally knows.” You whispered nervously.

“Knows what?” He asked with a frown.

“That I’m Cherry.” You hissed as she began coming back towards the table with two glasses of wine.

“Thank you.” You said sweetly making her eyes narrow before turning back to James.

“Can I get a quick picture and an autograph?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone that made you laugh behind your wine glass.

“Do you mind?” James asked you sweetly making you smile with rose tinted cheeks.

“Of course not love.” You whispered softly making him grin happily. 

He jumped up, posing for a picture with the girl before grabbing a napkin and signing it for her. She gave him a bright grin before scampering off probably to text her friends. You watched as James sat down with a happily look on his face.

“You’re really in your element aren’t you?” You chuckled softly as he looked up into your eyes, sipping his wine.

“Without our ‘fans’ I really would be no where. Did you know the first record company that approached us was because a young woman who worked there, retweeted a video clip of our gig in a run down underground bar in London. She gushed about it so much a few of the higher ups saw it. Sirius got his first photoshoot because a photographer saw her teenaged daughter liking a bunch of the bands Instagram pictures. Without fans we would probably be washed up nobody’s.” He explained and you felt your heart melt. 

“I’m so glad you stayed the same baby.” You whispered with a cheeky grin.

“I never called Evan baby by the way. Just wanted to clear that up.” You giggled making him flush.

“Good. I-I never called Lily it either.” James replied making you smile a sincere smile.

“Good.” You sassed playfully making him chuckle.

You both finally ordered food, flirting over the dinner table with an alarming amount of ease. It felt natural, like this was a normal everyday date night; and not the first proper date you two had ever been on. You laughed, you both got tearful and nostalgic. Everything was going swimmingly until your ex boyfriend walked in with a blonde girl you knew was his secretary.

When you both locked eyes he seemed to go through a slew of emotions ranging from sadness to love, until he caught sight of James and it all turned to anger. 

“I want to say I’m surprised but I really shouldn’t be should I?” Evan scoffed quietly as he approach your table.

“Evan, how are you mate?” James tried casually making Evan visibly sneer at him. 

“I’m well, thank you Potter. When did you two start dating?” He spat making James’ eyes narrow.

“This is our first date.” He stated as calmly as he could, clearly surprised by his hostility.

“I’m surprised, considering you’re the reason my girlfriend of 7 years said no to my marriage proposal.” Evan spat out and suddenly everything grew silent.

“If I remember her words correctly. She said ‘I’m sorry Evan I can’t marry you. I can’t picture my life in the future with you. I thought I’d give us a chance but I can’t take the next step when I don’t feel it.’ I obviously asked what she meant by it and she said ‘The pull.’ I had no idea what she even meant. I mean I was her first PROPER boyfriend she’d never been with anyone but me. Then I found her secret little—

“Shut up Evan.” You snapped in utter humiliation.

“I found a box full of things from when you two had you 3 month long relationship in year 9. Letters, notes with music notes on them, cute little gifts you gave her. There was even a cutely pressed flower sealed in resin. I mean I’d think that was cute if she had things like that from OUR relationship but nope. Nothing.” Evan finished making tears prick your eyes.

James was never gonna wanna see me again. He’s gonna think I’m some creepy stalker that has been obsessed with him for 12 years. You went to stand up but James reached out and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“What did you honestly think was going to happen by telling me that she’d been longing for me just like I have for her? I also have a box filled with things from her including the red plaid top she left at mine after a party in year 11.” James snorted out proudly making your jaw drop. 

You wiped the unshed tears away carefully before you glanced at Evan who looked beyond angry. He didn’t say anything else just walked to his own table silently. You turned to James who let out a small sigh making your heart clench in fear. 

“I never understood why you dated that dick.” He huffed with an eye roll.

“Because you started dating Lily.” You whispered brokenly and he looked up at you with a frown.

“I didn’t start dating Lily till you started dating Evan.” He corrected making you frown.

“No I remember seeing you and Lily at Madam P’s on a date. You bought her my favourite cream puffs.” You huffed with an eye roll.

“I bought them for you! Then when I went to give them to you you were making out with Evan!” He argued and suddenly tears pricked your eyes.

“N-No cos then that would mean I wasted 7 years with the wrong person…” You whispered sadly with tears brimming your waterline.

“Oh baby…” He muttered sympathetically before standing up to kneel at the side of your seat.

“We were kids. We didn’t know better. As adults we know it’s easier to talk about things instead of assuming.” He stated gently, his hand caressing your thigh in a soothing manner.

“Come on, I’ll pay for dinner then we can go for a walk instead of dancing?” He offered sweetly making your heart pound heavily in your chest.

You gave a nod and collected your purse as he signalled for the waiter. The waiter came over with the bill which you quickly offered to pay half of, but James looked psychically wounded, so you dropped it. 

He offered you his arm which you took as you both began strolling towards the park. He was quiet until we got to the floral covered entrance of the park. He clutched your hands that were resting around his bicep as he looked down at you.

“I missed you.” He suddenly said making you flush under his gaze.

“I missed you too.” You replied sweetly making him grin happily.

************

You walked into your flat, locking the door behind you and putting the latch on before throwing your keys into the bowl near the front door. You kicking off your shoes before shuffling straight towards your bedroom. When you opened the bedroom door and turned on the light,  you instantly caught sight of your boyfriend making you frown a little before you let out a squeal of happiness.

“Shit…I fell asleep.” James grumbled huskily as he sat up rubbing his eyes. He grinned at you sleepily holding his arms out.

“I thought you weren’t back till next week?” You giggled as you launched yourself into his arms.

“The show in Sheffield got cancelled cos of the rain. So we came back early.” He explained as he nuzzled into your neck.

You and James had been dating for about a month, you’d only given him a key because he was always away so you told him if he ever got back early he was welcome to chill at yours. You guys had yet to take it to the next step, you weren’t sure why he was hesitant, but for the past three days since you’d accidentally given a full view of James naked torso over FaceTime, you’d been insatiable.

“I missed you baby.” You whispered in a rather seductive tone as you settles on his lap and leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Mmm missed you too.” He mumbled as he pulled away from the kiss. 

“Nope m’not done yet.” You grumbled as you brought him in for a more heated kiss.

He gasped against you lips but his hands gripped at the back of your work shirt. You moaned against his lips, your tongue sliding along his bottom lip teasingly before pulling away with a grin.

“I need a shower. You are welcome to join me.” You offered with a wink as you climbed off his lap to strip down to your undies.

“I’ll wait until your out. I’m not making love to you for the first time in the shower.” He chuckled as he stripped off his T-shirt and laid back on your bed with a smirk.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes raked over his now naked torso. It was like he was sculpted by the gods. The only thing you could think of in that moment was, I wanna lick him. He reached down and cupped his package, something that would usually make you roll your eyes but instead you found yourself wanting to drop to your knees and beg him to use you. 

“Ugh it should be illegal how fuckin’ hot you are.” You huffed before stomping off to your bathroom with a pout.

When you got into the shower you sighed happily, you realised you’d thankfully shaved the day before as well as washed your hair so it saved time. You quickly put on a shower cap before stepping into the water to start washing. You used your expensive lush Snow fairy shower gel, smiling at the sweet smell. Once done you got out and dried yourself off before using the matching Snow fairy body mist. 

You took the show cap off and wrapped the towel around you before wandering into your bedroom. When you walked in James looked up and immediately sat up straight. He must’ve been expecting you to come out in clothes because his face flushed softly.

“Why pray tell, are ya’ still dressed?” You smirked making him grin.

“Apologies my lady.” He exclaimed as he very dramatically dropped his pants making you openly laugh.

“Idiot.” You laughed as he threw his jeans and socks across the room leaving him in a pair of tight Calvin Kleins. 

“You look like a fuckin’ Calvin Klein advert.” You groaned deciding to wind him up as much as you felt wound up.

The second the towel dropped so did James’ jaw. You smirked as you sauntered over to the bed, your hips swaying as you went. James seemed in a slight daze as he shuffled after you. You laid down, leaning up on your elbows to raise an amused brow at him.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous baby.” He groaned as he crawled onto the bed admiring you body openly.

“Been wanting this for days.” You whispered as he hovered above you, his arms trapping you against the bed. 

“Oh really?” He teased his index finger trailing up your body slowly, until it reached your chin.

“Mhmm Sirius accidentally pointed the phone at you when you went to change a few days ago…haven’t been able to satisfy myself since.” You pouted playfully making him smile.

“Poor baby.” He whispered huskily in your ear before leaning down to kiss just below your ear making you gasp.

“Please James…” You whispered breathless arching again him as his hand slid downwards until he arrived at your hip.

He said nothing, instead he gave you what you wanted. His hand slid down a little further, his fingers brushing through your already wet folds. He groaned audibly as his finger pulled the wetness to your clit and began massaging in slowly tentative circles. You arched against him your moan long and full of desperation. 

“Feel good love?” He asked sweetly as he began pressing kisses over your chest before taking your left nipple into his mouth, suckling on it gently.

“Mhmm…oh f-fuck…just like that baby.” You moaned as he dipped two fingers into you tight wet heat before dragging them back out putting pressure on your clit before diving back in.

“Need to taste you.” James growled as he backed down the bed until his face was level with your dripping pussy.

You suddenly felt a little panic. Evan had only done this once of twice in the years you’d been together and it was never any good for you. As if James sensed your worry he sat up a little and stared at you with worried eyes.

“I-I’ve never…I’ve only done this twice a-and I-I didn’t really enjoy it..” You whispered shyly your ears and cheeks flushing bright pink.

“I’m sorry… I thought I just heard you just say you’d only had this done twice?” He whispered in disbelief making you shrink a little.

“Fuck that come ‘ere baby. Let me change your mind.” James whispered in a slight daze as he bent your legs back exposing you but before you could feel embarrassed his tongue was on you.

You moaned at the feeling as he began leaving sloppy kisses all over your exposed heat. You keened against him try to change the feeling but you loving accidentally caused his tongue to slip a little further than your pussy. You let out an embarrassing squeak covering your face with your hands as James peered up at you with the dirtiest smirk on his face, if you’d of been feeling more coherent you’d of slapped it off.

“Interesting.” He whispered smugly as he kept eye contact and over down to lick your puckered hole making you gasp loudly which was followed by a long drawn out moan as he did it again.

“Gonna file that but of information away for another day.” James chuckled huskily before moving back to your pussy which he quickly began devouring as he slid two fingers inside your sopping wet heat.

“O-Oh shit…” You moaned loudly as he pressed his fingers into your g-spot.

“Could do this all day.” James groaned, his hips grinding into the bed like a horny teenager which shouldn’t of been as attractive as it was.

“M’Close love.” You cried out as his finger sped up but his tongue stayed gentle and precise. The combination had you clenching around his fingers but you needed something but you couldn’t quite figure it out so you took the initiative.

“Stick your tongue out baby.” You moaned and he looked up at you with a hint of surprise before he looked at you lustfully and did what you asked.

You hands slid into his hair as you began grinding against his tongue. He groaned at the sight of you using him for pleasure but you couldn’t focus. You threw your head back in pure ecstasy as you thrust against his tongue.

“Fuck yes. That’s it baby…gonna cum all over your pretty face.” You moaned as your hand gripped his hair even tighter. Finally you felt yourself tumbling over the edge your thrusts erratic and untimed but you clenched around his fingers coming undone on his tongue.

“Ahhh James.” You cried out as your legs shook with the force of your orgasm. When your body turned to jelly you released his hair letting him sit up as he licked his lips happily.

“That was so fucking hot.” James growled as he leaned down to kiss you heatedly.

“Need you…Need to be inside you baby…please.” James whispered breathlessly as he shimmied out of his boxers.

“How could I say no when you look so pretty begging.” You chuckled seductively as you reached down to guide his rather large cock into your pussy.

He pushed in slowly making your head fling back in pleasure. You’d never felt this full, it was like you could feel him everywhere. You let out a long drawn out moan, your heat clenching around him as he bottomed out. He let out a husky groan, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck your so tight.” He growled against your neck making you chuckle.

“That because the only person I slept with was barely 5 inches.” You snorted and James let out a surprised laugh.

“That is the only time talking about an ex is acceptable in our love nest.” He laughed as he leaned up to kiss you passionately making you instantly forget what you’d even been talking about.

When he began thrusting inside you wet heat you let out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan that had you flushing as you attempted to bite your lip to contain anymore.

“Ah ah. Don’t you dare cover your moans. Wanna hear you.” James growled as he gently freed your lower lip from your teeth.

“James.” You moaned as he sped up his pace.

You flung your arms around him, your nails digging into his back as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you. You pulled him into a messy heated kiss, your hands sliding into his hair to grip it tightly.

“Fuck…harder p-please.”  You so yes as you pushed your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“We’re supposed to be making love baby.” He teased as he refused to speed up.

“James if you don’t fuck me like a whore I’m gonna get myself off while you get to sit there with blue balls.” You growled threateningly making his eyes widen.

“You my love have got a dirty little mouth on you.— he gave a deep thrust to punctuate his words.— Such— thrust—An—thrust—impatient—thrust—little—thrust—slut.” He growled before he began pounding into you.

“Fuck yes! M’ yer’ little slut though.” You moaned loudly making him groan, his cock twitching inside you as he began thrusting at an animalistic pace.

“S-Shit so tight and wet for me.” He moaned huskily against your neck, his hand squeezing your arse cheeks roughly.

You clung to his muscular body unable to do more than lay there and let him fuck into you like his own personal fuck toy. You could feel yourself building up again so you reached down to circle your clit but James slapped your hand away before leaning up to spit on your pussy, the whole scene was something you’d thought would disgust you but it only had you moaning as he brought his fingers to your clit. 

He began circling the swollen bud as he contained fucking into you roughly. You felt yourself teeter towards the edge until he began drilling straight into your g-spot knocking your orgasm out of you like a punch. You came around his cock which triggered his own orgasm, growling through gritted teeth as he came inside you. 

“F-Fuck Y/N!” He groaned deeply as his came, his thrust begin to slow down until they came to a stop. Your legs were shaking and you felt limp everywhere but you’d never felt so satisfied.

“Wow.” Was all you managed to say as James moved your left leg to lay over your right one before laying down behind you making sure he didn’t slip out.

You flushed a little at the intimacy of the whole thing but as he left soft kisses on your spine and shoulders, you closed you eyes and basked in the feeling. Usually you’d jump straight up, pee and get dressed but this felt right. 

“I—

The sound of James phone ringing broke the moment and he rolled his eyes before sliding out of your pussy causing you to let out a breathless gasp. He smirked down at you as he grabbed his phone and answered the call.

“What do you mean your outside ay/N flat?” James sighed as you passed him his boxers. He slid them on after hanging up on his best friend and walking towards the front door of your flat. 

“Sorry to interrupt you screw sesh but this is important!” Sirius exclaimed as he pulled out the bands shared tablet and slapped it into James hand.

“Your ex girlfriend posted a new single?” James questioned with a frown as you finally came into the room dress in James t-shirt.  

The second the song finished you burst out laughing. You knew you shouldn’t of but the fact was, it WAS fucking hilarious in your eyes. 

“You finally pissed off the wrong girl.” You snorted through your laughter.

“What the fuck do I do now! Everyone knows this is about me!” Sirius growled as he began pacing.

“It’s a good song?” James tried as he tried to hold back his own laughter.

“Are you serious?” Sirius screamed making you fall into another round of laughter.

“Karma. Am I right?” You smirked before plugging the tablet into you speaker with the aux cable before blasting out the song.

“I don’t speak boy shit!” You cheered as you did a little dance making James burst out laughing. 

[patrophthia]

just curious | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: angst, mutual pining (but they don’t get together boo 👎👎👎 me), theodore wears glasses (yes that’s it’s own genre), reader is called princess by everyone bc i didn’t want to use yn in this

wc: 2.2k

note: i wrote this in two hours while listening to super shy - new jeans (intended for it to be a cute fic) and ended up with this angsty little piece, it’s a wip i ended up abandoning but am putting it up for anyone who might like that sexy pining genre of not ending up tgt, also was gonna stay on my docs but got too emotionally attached to not post it (you better talk to me about this theo or i will cry)

Theodore is a friend of Draco. That's how you know him. Theodore Nott: the tall, cute, and quiet friend of Draco's who's eyes —when he smiles, like really smile, curves upwards in an adorable manner. Theodore who, whenever you were to hang out with Draco's friend group, keeps a closed off expression that is so hard to gauge and read that you gave up the second time you met the lad.

The door clicks open and you prepare yourself for what's to come next, taking in a deep breath as you try your hardest to play it cool. Theodore steps into Draco's living room, shopping bags in his hand as Pansy follows him from a few steps behind.

You try not to think too much of it, friends hold shopping bags for their friends all the time, it's only natural. Pansy smiles when she meets your eyes, her voice soft as she nags you on why she hasn't seen you in so long. "Draco ought to bring you around more, I know you're his friend before ours but there's no reason for him to keep you to himself like he does."

Draco scoffs at that, "it's not like I don't invite her, she just doesn't want to come to stuff."

That's not exactly true though. You do want to come to stuff —if anything you loved going to them, Draco's friends have always been very welcoming and accommodated to your every need; it's just that every time you were to spend time with them, it seems like you can't take your eyes off of one particular person (hint: it's not Draco himself).

And quite honestly, you doubted whether he even knows your name. "In my defence, work has been hectic," you deflect with a small laugh, your eyes betrays you and drift to where the real reason stood. Theodore meets your eyes straight on, and offers you a nod as if he's only noticing you now and was saying his greetings. Yeah, he definitely does not know your name. "But I'm here now so let's enjoy it."

Pansy pouts but let's up when Astoria calls for your group of friends from the kitchen, Blaise right behind her with an apron wrapped around his stature. "Well?" He cocks his head. "What are we waiting for?"

Dinner went by smoothly, mostly Blaise stuffing you with his cooking and Pansy catching up with; asking every question she could possibly think of. You didn't mind if for the most part, actually quite enjoying the attention as the group went on and on. "You're shy, aren't you?"

The question is weird, and not exactly directed at you so you turn back to your plate as you take a bite of Blaise's lasagna (Draco helped cook the noodles for this, he wants you to keep this in mind). You feel something kick mid-chew, looking up to the person sitting opposing you; only to see Theodore with his full focus on Pansy.

You turn to her as well and she laughs as she repeats her words. "You're shy, aren't you?"

"Not really?" You don't think you are, not really. You're just trying your hardest not to make it obvious that you're interested in someone at this very table who does not seem to be interested in you one bit. "At least I don't think I am."

Astoria laughs kindly, finding you cute as she says: "you've just been quiet today, you're never like this with Draco and I."

Yeah well Draco and Astoria weren't plaguing your every thought every time you were within one metres of them. "Oh." you murmur. "I guess I'm a bit tired today."

"Work?" Blaise suggests and you shake your head. "What is it then?"

"Just Boy problems," you say off-handedly, quickly regretting it when their faces turn to one of interest. "But it's nothing big, I promise."

"Are you seriously going to tell us that and not elaborate?" Draco looks offended, hell, he feels offended that you weren't elaborating. "What did that dickhead do?"

Your heart warms at the fact that your friend cares about you enough to immediately hate on whoever might be causing you boy problems but are quick to dismiss the situation. "Nothing, drop it."

From the look on their faces, it looks as if they weren't going to drop it anytime soon. Pansy opens her mouth, ready to say something when Theodore clears his throat, letting you hear his voice for the first time tonight. "Why don't you tell them about who you saw at the shops today, Pans."

Her eyes light up suddenly, going off on how she ran into her scumbag of an ex boyfriend as she was shopping for a new dress. Your eyes found Theodore's, sending him a small smile as you mentally note down on how you'd have to thank him for it later.

And when he offers you a small smile in return, his dark eyes softening —yet not enough for you to see those half moons you hold oh so dear to your heart, you try to remind yourself that he is nothing but a man doing the bare minimum.

"Stay the night," Astoria says softly, "it's late, Princess. I can't have you heading back on your own at this hour."

As much as it sounded pleasant, you can't help but feel like you might be intruding their night (even though you've spent countless night crashing at their place after a bad break up before, you guess that it's just different now that you weren't staying to cure a broken heart with a comforting shoulder —Astoria— and someone bad mouthing your ex —Draco—). "I can't," you tell them. "And trust me, I'll be fine."

Draco isn't chuffed by your answer, looking apprehensive as he thought everything over. Blaise and Pansy left for their shared apartment mere minutes ago so it wasn't like he could ensure your safety with them. But someone else was still here though, "Nott, can you take her home?"

Theodore startles from his spot by the coat rack, pausing with one arm in his coat as he looks at Draco like a deer caught in headlights. Cute. He then glances at you before hesitantly nodding.

This is bad. Oh god. Okay.

"Great," Astoria says with a smile. "Take care of our Princess, please." She then turns to look at you. "Call me when you get home safely, okay?"

At your nod, she hugs you goodbye and sends you out the door. Theodore walking slowly by your side. He's silent when he opens his car door for you and you try your best not to swoon. "Thank you."

He hums in acknowledgment as he walks over to the driver's side, Theodore does a double check to make sure you had your seatbelt on before he started the car. The ride is quiet, save from the song playing from the radio; a familiar tune you can't place a finger on.

He asks for your directions and you tell him, sneaking glances as you did so. His hair is longer than it was the last time you saw him —but to be fair, it has been months since you did; a few dark strands cover his eyes and you resist the urge to reach out and push them away. Maybe even taking out a hair clip from your purse to pin it back just so he wouldn't have to deal with it again.

It's calm and overwhelming at the same time, sitting so still and tranquil next to Theodore like this. You want to say something, you want him to say something; anything if meant you get to hear his voice again. If it meant you get a chance to memorise it and compartmentalise it in a folder that is ardently his.

"Oh thank you by the way." He looks at you for a split second before turning his focus back to the road. "For switching the topic back there."

Theodore only nods and you try not to cry. Why won't he speak? It's almost like he doesn't even want you to be interested in him.

"I really do appreciate it."

He hums this time around, a low note vibrating from his chest. It's either a nod or a hum, that's all you're ever going to get from Theodore, huh?

You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking straight at the road as you did so. Should you even attempt to make small talk? All your attempts have been futile so far so why even try. You didn't mean to huff, or at least not as loud as you did, your arms instinctively as you looked out the window absentmindedly.

This catches Theodore's attention though, prompting to finally say something. "Thinking about those boy problems again?"

You don't answer him, you don't let yourself feel the satisfaction of finally hearing him speak for the second time tonight. You don't say anything related to that topic whatsoever. "Do you have a girlfriend, Theodore?"

You can hear the hitch in his breath, see the surprise in his rapid blinks, feel the shift in the air. The car pulls to a stop at a red light, the tail lights of a car a few metres in front of you shines your faces the same shade.

He looks at you and you hope —no pray, that he doesn't notice the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. Or maybe you do, you can't tell anymore. The only thing you can tell is that you are so incredibly into Theodore Nott, and him driving you home is not helping your case at all.

"No," he says earnestly. You don't let your eyes flicker to his lips, you don't let your eyes flicker to anything else but his eyes, trying to gauge him for something; anything, only to end up finding nothing.  "Why are you asking?"

A car honks from behind, breaking the two of you away from your trance. "Just curious."

You thank Theodore as he pulls to a stop outside your house, he —just like you would expect from Theodore Nott, only nods at your thanks. And when you bid him goodbye with one leg out of his car.

He tells you, "Goodnight, Princess."

Princess, that's what your friends called you. That's what Draco Malfoy called you at the ripe age of ten years old where the two of you would play royalty and would later be his favourite nickname for you, then further on your other friend's choice of name for you. That's what Theodore Nott calls you because he does not know your name.

"Goodnight, Theodore." You shut his car door behind you, and take a few steps to your front door before turning over your shoulder. Looking back at him at once, finding him reaching for his glasses within his glove compartment; ones with round wired frames that settle flatteringly on his high nose bridge. He shuts his glove compartment box and you turn back to your front door. And unbeknownst to you, with your back to him, Theodore turns to look at you once, and then, twice when you finally enter your house, before finally driving off and into the night.

Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what Theodore thinks as he unlocks his front door. Curiosity kills the cat, is what he reminds himself time and time again as he sheds off his jacket. Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what he knows from the start. But how could curiosity really kill the cat if it was already dying? 

If it had already yearned for something for long; a clenching thirst yet to be fulfilled, if it was already wailing to just be held, would curiosity really kill it then? 

It's weird. It's weird how —now that he thinks of it, he can't seem to recall you ever going on a date. Not a single one. While him on the other hand; yeah, he can't exactly count the amount of dates he’s gone on in the past month on one hand. 

It's not entirely his fault though, he’s trying to put himself out there; trying to find the one despite knowing that said one is constantly running around the back of his mind and was sitting in his passenger seat mere minutes ago. But he chooses to ignore it because one, it's wrong and there was no way you could ever reciprocate his feelings. And two, even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he will never cross the line between platonic and romantic. 

He’d take the endless yearning over any potential heartbreak any day because the second he crosses the line, there's no turning back. And no amount of romantic feelings you might have for one another will make up for the years of friendship between him, you, and most importantly, Draco. The blond was your best friend before anything else, and he doubts you’d ever risk ruining your friendship for someone like him.

So, for now, he’d settled for the guilt he feels every time he sees you; he’ll hold back on his urges even though it’s clearer to him now, in this very night, than ever that you are as infatuated with him as he is with you. 

He’ll take off his glasses, he’ll place them by his bedside table, he’ll lay in his bed, cold and alone, he’ll try to fall asleep and not think of you, he’ll try and try to make it through tomorrow, make it through the date that Blaise had set up (yet again) for him that will inevitably be the worse hours of his life and think about what it be like had his date been you instead. 

— from bee: yeah i wrote this theodore with jeon wonwoo in mind so what about it?? theodore is so wonwoo coded idc idc

[leonsleftbicep]

Bake Me Back To Eden

Chapter: I

Ao3 Version

Word Count: 1,375

tags: Bakery AU, Modern Setting AU, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Vessel/II/III are dating, IV doesn't know them… yet!, Trans II, Nonbinary Vessel, Genderfluid III, They/Them Pronouns for III, It/Its and They/Them Pronouns for Vessel, Vessel and III are very creature they deserve creature pronouns

Summary: IV runs a bakery called Ivy Sprigs Bakery & Records, The Echo's work along with him. II, III, and Vessel are customers that don't yet know IV. yet! -- this is being cross posted on here and Ao3. alt names that are more "human" are used at times for the vessels, but i try my hardest to keep up with the numerical names for parts that are not being spoken verbally. The echo's or the esparas have made up names as well for i do not know their actual names and don't really want to use their actual names.

the alt names i will be using for each vessel and espara is listed below. please keep in mind that these names are fake and not anyone's actual names.

Vessel: Verna II: lii III: Thea IV: Ivy Espera/Echo 1: Evaline Espera/Echo 2: Erie Espera/Echo 3: Elanor

---

Ivy Sprig Bakery and Records. A newer place that opened up just a walk away from Vessel’s house. It was II’s idea to check out the bakery, after the couple of times he bought coffee there on his way to work. He thought it was time to show them this cute little hobbit hole of a bakery. 

III was apprehensive about all of this, not knowing if they would like anything. Vessel was just nervous in general. Vess hates going out in public, everyone stares at them because of its height. II might be the only one not nervous, for the main reason that he knew there was a certain person he had a feeling that would change their minds. 

The three of them walking through an alleyway while II led the way. “ii are you gonna kill us or something, this is shady.” III says unnerved by this as they hold Vessel's hand. “where almost there, you know i'm not a big fan of main roads for numerous reasons” II smiles as he walks, taking a turn that leads to the front of Ivy Sprigs. “Here we are” II exclaimed as the two taller beings look at this lovely little bakery, with a dark cottage core almost witchy vibe to it. “I call dibs on the records!” III calls out before they run into the cafe. Both II and Vessel giggle as they hold hands and walk into the bakery. 

they find III already scouring the records for old albums from a band they enjoy. III does squeak and bounce around when they find a limited edition color variant of a record.

“I'll go get coffee, while you watch him” II speaks softly to Vessel as he gets up on his tippy toes just to kiss Vessel's cheek. Which makes the taller blush and hum in agreement. 

II making his way to the cafe/bakery section of the shop, he knew III and Vess would be on their way soon after III found their records. II gets in line and soon feels the presence of his two tall lovers, which calms his paranoia.

III’s jaw drops to the floor all of a sudden. II just chuckles when he feels Vessel also fluster, just by the way they are clutching onto II’s shoulder. “I told you guys I would change your minds” II say with a grin as he also checks out the person they are collectively looking at.

The person in question is a lovely brunette with grays at his temples and widows peak, thin wire oval glasses low on his nose as he smiles and talks to customers. ‘Ivy’ was the name on his apron, which if they all thought right he was the owner. II had met the man a couple of times, though never really had a super meaningful conversation with him. 

“How can i help you lads today?” IV asks as he looks between all three of them. Smiling when he sees II “oh it you Lii!” IV expels like he was surprised. “Its II, i just say Lii for simplicity” II nods, knowing a lot of people find his name odd.

Ivy types out something on his ordering tablet, “i'm guessing the usual black eye” ivy smiles. II hums in confirmation, “and anything those two would like?” IV asks as he gestures to III and Vessel. “They are your partners, right? you mentioned a Vessel or Verna? And some one you called Red?” Ivy asks as he pulls out cups and starts to write down II’s name on it. 

“Black coffee, please” Vessel says with a slight shake to its voice before they just whisper to II what they want. “And a blueberry scone” II adds on, wanting to make sure vessel got all it wanted. “And what's your name sweetheart” IV ask’s vessel so he can write down the name on their cup. Vessel at first flusters at the pet name being used so smoothly. “Vess- no, put down Verna” Vessel says with a soft smile, which makes II squeeze its arm gently in congratulations. 

III smiles when IV turns to ask what they want, “what do you recommend..” III looks at IV’s name tag “..Ivy?” they finish with a smirk. IV just smiles “i fear I- it might be too sweet for you” he tries to flirt back.

II kicks III in the ankle “OW!”. this sight makes IV laugh and snort, which amazes all of them. “goodness. okay, too answer your question Red” IV say with a big grin “my favorites the cafe miel, coffee wise. but tea wise, i usually go with a london fog” IV responds as he plays with his pen “your pick though”.

III leans against the counter as they think, “I'll try the cafe miel” they say “as long as it's, as sweet as you” III purrs. “oh jesus christ” Vessel whispers “this is the same thing they did to me when we first met” Vessel tells II. 

IV just snorts and writes it down “what's your name?” he asks with a soft expression “unless you just want me to write down Red?”. III shakes their head “put down Thea, but you can call me III.. or whatever you want” III chuckles. “III you are horrible at being subtle” II groans and crosses his arms as Vessel rests its chin on his head. 

IV gets pulled away from the cashregister by evaline so she can discuss something with him. III just watches that and then giggles and turns to II and Vessel “i'm not trying to be subtle, i'm trying to get closer” III admits. 

II’s eyes widen “you just met him, Thea!” II yelps. “I feel like that's what you said to yourself when you met me, Lii” III counters, being a smart ass.

Vessel takes a deep breath “ok my loves, can we not get into a tift at the moment. Both of you need coffee, and some food” Vessel says as it takes their partners hands. Both III and II take a deep breath. 

“I'm going to finish ordering, you take III to look at the records. Try and find me something please” II mutters as he pulls away so he can finish the order with Elanor as vessel and III walk off to cool down.

After coffee and some food II and III hold hands as they feel normal now. “Sorry that i was rude” III apologizes. “I accept your apology. But you aren't wrong, there was a reason that Vessel was the one to start dating you first before I did. And it was because I felt it was too soon” II explains, even if this might be odd to discuss in the middle of a bakery. 

IV walks over after finishing up what he needed to with evaline. “Sorry I had to walk away, evidently someone wants an ambrosia salad style cake for their wedding.” IV laughs as he takes off his apron and pulls up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Which the three men gawk at, seeing the ivy tattoos wrap around his wrists and up.

“So can I get you three anything before you head out?” IV asks with a soft expression that makes his eyes look more blue then they were before. 

“Some ivycakes” III blurts out as their face reddens. “I've never heard of that, we do have angel food cake though!” IV responds obviously.

II clears his throat and chimes in, “we are good, we are just about to go purchase those records Thea picked out and then head off home.” II excuses. 

“Well, come back soon. it was great to finally meet your partners, they are very sweet” Ivy says as he makes eye contact with III. which II notices, and so does Vessel by the way it grabs II’s waist and squeezes gently.

After they pay for the records and walk out the bakery, Vessel finally speaks about its experience. “I like Ivy, he has pretty eyes. I wonder if he's single” Vessel smiles as all three of them walk together. 

“The ivycakes thing was about his ass… i asked for a slice of his ass” III explains. 

Both II and Vessel look over at III in surprise.

[mortalfaerie]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

Chapter One: Her Father's Daughter

Cregan Stark x (Strong)Velaryon!OC

Celaena Velaryon, Jacaerys' younger twin by minutes, is sent to Winterfell to ensure the loyalty of House Stark. Upon seeing her land outside the ramparts on the back of the dragon Seasmoke, the Warden of the North desires only one thing for his loyalty: this compelling woman to be his wife.

tw: depictions of childbirth, references to violence

Celaena Velaryon was born in the shadow of her brother - just as in the way she would be for much of her life. The hours of arduous labor which the nineteen-year-old Princess of Dragonstone had endured had finally and gratuitously come to fruition with the strong wail of a healthy babe, announced to the princess by a tired but smiling midwife who declared, “A boy, your grace. A healthy prince.”

“A boy?” she had asked, weakly extending her arms to see him. The red-faced and fussing bundle was placed in her arms, as the princess kissed his forehead.

“Jacaerys. You shall be called Jacaerys,” she spoke to the newborn, and then to the midwife’s apprentice instructed, “Go and tell my husband, Ser Laenor - tell him he has a son.”

Laenor, who had spent over an hour pacing the halls outside the birthing chamber, cringing at the moans and pained cries that emanated from within, had long since declared he could not take it, and would take to the skies on Seasmoke until the babe was born, had conveniently returned to the Red Keep just in time. The young apprentice still clothed in her bloody apron ran through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast. None but the royal family had their quarters there, and on today of all days, only those in service to the princess and those who loved her best waited in its walls.

As she ran, her arm was caught by a large hand in a steel gauntlet. Looking up, she found herself in the presence of the Commander of the City Watch and the Princess’ sworn protector, Ser Harwin Strong. His expression was grim as he saw her apron and began to form a question, but was stopped by the young woman's grin.

“A boy, ser! Both healthy and safe, gods be good. I must fetch the princess’ husband, Ser Laenor-” she babbled excitedly. The knight’s face eased into a relieved expression, just as another voice cut in.

“You, girl,” said the approaching lord - exactly the one the apprentice had been seeking. “What news? Is she well? Is the babe born?” Ser Laenor asked intently, looking between Ser Harwin and the young woman.

Before she could tell him, the gold cloak spoke. “A boy. A son, your grace.”

Laenor eased immediately, grinning and then laughing, clapping the knight on his back. “A son? Thank the seven. I’ll go to her now.” he told the other man, like an old friend in his familiarity. Their air of camaraderie was fractured by the frantic steps of a maid, who called out to the apprentice, “Ye must hasten to return! There’s another babe!”

This announcement had the apprentice in a run, the two men not far behind her. She apologetically shut the door of the chamber to them on a scream from the princess inside, blocking them from this place which was no man’s jurisdiction. The pair shared identical expressions of strained worry as the door closed.

“Oh, damn it all! Seven hells!” The princess cried, clutching hard to the ropes which had been hung for her to grasp as she pushed. A maid in the corner bounced the wailing firstborn, as the senior midwife crouched between the princess’s legs and urged her, “I can see the head, your grace, another push and-”

“For fuck’s sake, stop talking!” The princess screamed, stunning the poor midwife into silence. The apprentice ran to the dish of cold water, soaking some linen in it and putting it on the straining princess’s forehead. Another push, more screams, more wailing from the newborn lad and finally - he was joined by the cries of a much smaller second babe.

The princess slumped back on the pillows behind her, eyes fluttering shut in exhaustion. “A boy or a girl?” she asked, her voice gone hoarse from the hours of effort.

“A girl, your grace.” The senior midwife said hesitantly.

The princess laughed breathily. “A girl? One of both, then.” She mused, and waved her hand generally to the room. “Go tell them. Go on.”

Exiting the room again, the apprentice found the Commander stone-faced, staring at the threshold, and Ser Laenor with his head in his hands. He looked up as the midwife exited and asked, “Well?”

She looked between the two men and said, “A girl, my lord. Smaller than her brother but strong and healthy.”

“Twins.” He said, as though he couldn’t believe it. He looked at Ser Harwin with a humorous expression and said, “I suppose that would be my side, then?”

The knight returned his laughing grin. “Must be,” he said, and patted the back of the other man in congratulations.

Much later, when the sun had given way to dusk and the Princess had been allowed to rest after her difficult labor, she stood in the chamber with the two men dearest to her as they looked at the two swaddled bundles laid next to each other in the cradle.

“We didn’t pick a girl’s name.” The princess commented.

“No. An oversight indeed.” Laenor replied dryly. “It should be a family name, I think. Maybe something that sounds similar. Jacaerra?”

The princess looked annoyed at him. “I am not naming my daughter that.” She declared firmly. “You could pick something that sounds like her father’s name.” The big knight suggested. They both looked at him, perplexed for a moment before he clarified, “Laenor, that is.”

The princess offered him a small smile and grasped his hand. “Well, we could hardly name her Harwina or some such,” she sighed. “For one, it’s not Valyrian, and for second,”

“It’s a little too on the nose,” Laenor finished with an apologetic shrug. He paused and offered. “Laena?”

“We already have a Laena Velaryon in this family and she’s your sister,” Rhaenyra pointed out. “Let’s not overly confuse matters.”

“How about Celaena? Sounds similar enough to Jacaerys.” Harwin ventured.

The princess and her husband shared a look and then nodded.

“Celaena, then.” she declared, “Princess Celaena Velaryon.”

The realm rejoiced for a week afterwards, firstly for the birth of a prince, and secondly for the double birth, which had confirmed the princess to the seven kingdoms as fertile and healthy. The birth of a son and daughter in one day, the high septon was even heard to say, must be a sign of goodwill from the Seven themselves.

After the wine stores had dried up and the tourneys fought, however, whispers began inside the Red Keep about the dark brown hair and fair skin each babe had, which resembled neither parent so much as it did their dogged companion, Ser Harwin Strong. Any conspiracy that the twins were smuggled in peasants and not of royal birth was quelled when the prince’s dragon egg hatched, but it only left the young girl whose egg had remained like stone open to even more speculation as she aged.

While the court could be duplicitous and even cold at times, the chambers shared by her family always flowed with love and laughter. They were joined before long by a younger brother, Lucerys, and another, Joffrey. Their father regaled them with stories of adventure and battle, and when the boys were instructed in swordcraft in the training yard, Ser Laenor snuck his daughter away from her septas and took her to the skies on his dragon, Seasmoke. Ser Harwin Strong was a constant presence, making her mother laugh and smile with such warmth that was palpable to all who saw it. For years, they were happy in their little world - but the cracks began to show in the stress their mother bore in the court, and when her beloved sworn shield died she could no longer bear to remain in King’s Landing.

Dragonstone became their refuge, their fortress. It was where the children learned to sail from their father, where they became entrenched in the stories of Old Valyria and saw the unclaimed dragons sore and dip daily around their home. But, their mother never again would laugh the way she had when Ser Harwin was with them.

Celaena Velaryon believed her childhood ended in one wretched week. First, their aunt had died with a babe stuck in her belly, consumed gruesomely by flame. Then, her dragon had been usurped by their uncle, who called them bastards and nearly killed Jacaerys. While she had been kicked to the ground and crawled to her twin, her little brother had picked up a knife and sliced out Aemond’s eye. No sooner had the chaos of that terrible night begun to settle when their father was killed, and Rhaenyra and Daemon wed and spirited their children back to the fortress of Dragonstone and the safety within.

The legacy of that week was the end of innocence among her and her brown-haired siblings. They knew the truth - the sin which they had no hand in - and knew that they must deny it or forfeit their right to the crown. No matter what, it was war in the making, and the children had lost not one father, but two.

Celaena’s solace was the warmth of her family in their stoney home. They shone from within it like a hearth, curling up together at night and chasing each other through the courtyard. In her lonelier moments, Celaena climbed up the rocky ridges beside the keep to watch the free dragons swoop and soar, and hope for a glimpse of Seasmoke if he ever returned.

When she was thirteen, he did. For months, she came daily to watch him and try to entice him with what High Valyrian she knew. Day by day, she wore down his feral disposition until he heeded her commands, and knelt for her to climb into his saddle. It was the crowning achievement of her life, up to then. Her brothers, all of them, may have had their cradle dragons, but her own father’s dragon had chosen her. The whispers and gossips could say what they wished, but none could deny it in a way that mattered to her - she was Laenor Velaryon’s girl.

[graceisinthelibrary]

My take on the prompt "bow tie".

@acgasfanchallenge

"What's in a bow tie?"

“Oh bugger!”

Audrey could hear Siegfried’s angry tantrum from the hallway upstairs. Glad that Helen and Jimmy had spent the night at Heston where they certainly didn’t hear Uncle Siegfried blustering all about the house, she closed the door to her linen cupboard. It was shortly after seven, time for breakfast and he was already in one of his moods.

“Blast!”

Knowing his cursing was nothing but a cry for her help, she shook her head and ascended the staircase.

“On me way!”

The door to his bedroom was wide open and their two very curious four-pawed friends were lying on his unmade bed, watching him attentively as he was fiddling with a piece of clothes she had never seen before dangling from his neck.

Amused by the sight, she leaned against the doorframe and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, visibly offended. With his hands firmly planted on his hips he stared at his own reflection in the mirror at the wall.

“You,” she answered nonchalantly.

“This blasted thing just won’t… for heaven’s…” The rest of the sentence was swallowed by another spate of unruly cursing.

“Let me have a look!” Trying not to look too cheerful, she walked over to him and ordered him to face her. With childish reluctance he did as ordered and she smiled softly at him.

“That’s a new one,” she said when she pulled the loose fabric from his neck and let it glide through her fingers. It was a burgundy coloured bow tie made of velvet - one that perfectly matched his favourite tweed suit.

“It is,” he confirmed as his eyes flickered over her fingers as she straightened the fabric.

“It feels expensive.”

“I wanted to treat myself a little,” he admitted, somewhat hangdogged. He held his breath when she leaned in a little and placed the bow tie around the collar of his shirt.

“It’s been ages since you’ve worn one of these,” she remarked when she carefully started to intertwine the loose ends. Sometimes her fingers were brushing against his neck and he felt her breath, warm and sweet from her first cup of tea, against his skin. She was standing a little too close for him to ignore her physical attributes he was only too aware of, even though they were hidden under her apron. Last night she must have washed her hair, because he could smell her shampoo and the faded scent of her lavender bath oil.

“I thought it was time to update my wardrobe,” he replied as he tried not to look at her. “Turns out I’m a bit out of practice.”

“There’s no shame in that,” she countered. “But you mustn’t shout around the house like a mad man.”

“Why not? You’re here now, aren’t you?” The words had been out before he could stop them and she laughed in response. “Am I that predictable?” She wondered as she added the finishing touches and straightened the knot in the middle and pulled it in the right position.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me in tatters,” he answered, glad she took his slip lightly.

“Course not,” she mused and stepped back, admiring her work on him. “There you are.”

He turned towards the mirror and looked at his own reflection. “Do you like it?” With pointed fingers he touched his new accessory, unsure whether it was what he imagined it would be.

“It suits you,” she answered and looked at his reflection. With obvious curiosity her eyes searched for his in the mirror and she reached out to touch the bow tie once more.

“Did Richard inspire you?”

“Why would you think that?” He returned the question.

“Just wondering…” She shrugged and nibbled at her lower lip.

“But you like it on him, don’t you?” His question hung in the air like a cloud over the Dales.

“There are a lot of things to like about the lad,” she answered tentatively. ”And there are even more things I like about you.” Her hand was now lying on his chest. The warmth of her skin penetrated the fabric and he was sure there was no way she could miss how his heartbeat increased under her touch.

One day he wanted to feel that hand on him without separating barriers.

One day he didn’t want to throw a tantrum to get her undivided attention and one day he wouldn’t buy new clothes just to impress her, because he wanted her to accompany him when he chose them.

One day…

The touch of her lips against his cheek was light and tender. The sweetness in her breath that he had felt earlier was now evident in her gentle kiss. He was glad he saw her kissing him in the reflection of his mirror, because otherwise he wouldn’t have believed it.

“You don’t have to change, you know,” she whispered into his ear and her voice was sending small shocks throughout his entire system. “Not for me.”

With bated breath he turned his face to meet her blue eyes. He saw the tenderness in them, the devotion and smiled. She could read him like no one else. Some years ago this would have scared the daylights out of him, but now it just gave him comfort and a warm sense of belonging.

“You’re marvellous.”

“I know.” She blinked cheekily at him and caressed the outline of his beard with her thumb. “Will you come downstairs for breakfast now?”

“Gladly,” he replied.

“Good…” She placed a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth and left. With a low whistle she ordered the dogs to follow her and they obediently jumped from his bed to run after her. He waited for her footsteps to fade before he slipped into his waistcoat and straightened his shoulders in front of the mirror. Once again he touched the unusual garment around his neck and couldn’t help but smile.

There was something about his bow tie that had just made his life even more worthwhile than it already was. He silently thanked Carmody, his lucky stars, and last weekend’s jumble sale for this strike of inspiration. And then he was on his way downstairs to have breakfast with her. It was going to be a good day.

[saywhatjessie]

Temper Your Chocolate You Twat

Day fourteen of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 14: Hot Chocolate Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie & TedTrent .6k[Ao3]

“Coach, you should definitely be on this,” Jamie called from the couch, his eyes not leaving the screen. “You ever made a torte?”

“I don’t even know what that is, Jamie,” Ted called from the kitchen. 

Trent hummed from his seat next to Jamie. “We could probably talk to Rebecca and Keeley about a special celebrity spot on Bake Off. Get the team in on it.”

“Ooh, yeah.” Jamie grinned. “Would be dead silly. I don’t think half the team even knows how to turn on an oven.”

Ted and Trent were back at Roy's place as Ted continued with baking lessons for Roy. They’d made all the biscuits they needed to for Roy’s family biscuit exchange but Phoebe apparently still needed biscuits for her class for Christmas.

“Even though we don’t fucking celebrate,” Roy grunted. But he didn’t want Phoebe to be left out.

Jamie and Trent had gotten bored of heckling so they’d moved to the living room and turned on the latest season of Bake Off. Trent won’t stop making fun of how like Jamie one of the contestants was.

“He’s even got the tattoos all up his arm,” Trent teased as they watched the lad make the West Ham logo out of bread.

Jamie snorted. “Other arm though, mate. And I’d never support West Ham.”

Trent just hummed. a small smug smile on his face like he was just humoring Jamie. Jamie scowled, crossing his arms and turning back to the show.

He was actually having fun watching this with Trent. Neither of them knew enough about baking to really understand what was being asked of the bakers, but they were both big enough twats to judge their style and execution. Neither of them cared how Saku’s bread peacock tasted: they just knew it was dead beautiful.

They were happy for the pretty deaf girl. though, for winning top baker of the week. Jamie can admit he manfully teared up when Paul Hollywood told her she really understands bread, even though she can’t hear when a loaf has been cooked long enough.

Roy plopped down on the couch next to Jamie just as the next episode was starting. Jamie smiled, pulling his legs up so he could curl into Roy’s side. “All done in the kitchen, babe?”

Roy grunted. “Gotta get up in twelve minutes to rotate batches. But done enough for now.”

“Look at you bein’ a sexy little housewife. Don’t know why you won’t wear the apron I bought you.”

“It wasn’t just an apron, it was a whole maid costume, you prick.”

“Oh hey, I’ve got one of them!” Ted said, plopping down next to Trent. “Though I worry I don’t have the breasts to fill it out.”

Trent patted him consolingly on the thigh. “Your tits are phenomenal, dear.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Ted said, grinning, before leaning in to kiss him.

“See, Royo!” Jamie said, gesturing at Ted and Tent. “They’re even more ancient than you and they get it!”

Trent hummed, skeptically. “I don’t know, Jamie. Not sure Roy could pull it off. Ted definitely had better tits.”

Roy’s eyebrows were doing something crazy, like he knew he should be offended but he wasn’t sure why or how. “Fuck off.”

Jamie looked at him, regretfully. “Only one way to settle this, Roy.”

“I’m not going to put on the maid outfit, can we just watch some fucking Bake Off?”

Jamie pouted but Roy put his arm around his shoulders so it wasn’t too bad.

The episode was chocolate week which filled both Trent and Roy with visible glee.

“Tell me it’s the hottest day of the year,” Trent said.

“Always,” Roy confirmed, his grin like a shark.

It wasn’t very long into the signature bake that Ted piped in with. “You know, Jamie, that young man kind of reminds me of you.”

“HIS TATTOO’S ON THE OTHER ARM!” Jamie shouted. Trent cackled.

The lad won chocolate week.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights, Part 2.1

Continuation of my Inkling's Challenge story, started >>here. Next part >>here. Not sure if I'm supposed to tag @inklings-challenge anymore since times have moved on, but will do so just to be on the safe (the tag may be ignored if so desired). Last time on Terrarium Lights: The ghost disappeared after getting an existential crisis when he realized he didn't know his own name, to everyone's surprise.

"I'm sorry."

Gail nearly jumped out of her skin, scattering her basket of freshly cleaned rocks across the dining room table. She wheeled around toward the kitchen, which had been empty a few moments earlier, to see the lad from before standing sheepishly in the middle of it.

She released her apron and took a deep breath.

"Oh?" She replied—with only a slight quiver in her voice—and allowed him to insert his own explanation.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, unless it was scaring the living daylights out of her. It was, however, reassuring to see him again and to know she wouldn’t be stuck for the rest of her days with the mystery of what on God’s green Earth had happened.

"Well, I feel like I may have overreacted." He was looking at the floor, so she couldn't see the state of his eyes.

"About your memories?" She asked, and then mentally smacked her palm against her forehead. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to bring up the incident that had so upset him right the second he came back—in her defense, her heartbeat was still rather drowning out thought.

"Yeah."

"I see." Gail turned back to the table and started picking up the rocks—mostly shale and creek pebbles—from where they'd been flung, gathering her wits with them.

It had been several days since the ghost had come and gone.

At first she toyed with the idea that her mind was going on ahead of her to heaven. They did say solitude did odd things to mind, but while she didn't have concrete proof that the lad had been there, in the end she had decided to regard it as fact until proven otherwise. There were her sodden clothes and her pail of moss, confirming that she'd gone out in the rain at the very least.

After she'd settled that, she started to go over the interaction in her mind.

She had had no idea if he'd come back or not. Her gut reaction was that he would, someday. The whole venture was rather too strange and unfinished—he was clearly haunted by something, still. Whether or not she would be there to see it, she did not know.

Eventually, she decided that if he did return to her, she should handle him with more care and tact, and make him feel more generally comfortable before prodding at him again. That seemed like the best way to figure out what was going on, at least. From there—well, she didn't know. But one so rarely did know what one was doing, so that wasn't a great matter in the long run. Besides, if this was the Lord’s doing, he’d hardly abandon her here. Wasn’t His style.

And here the lad was, once again standing in her kitchen, though this time much shyer and more unsure, and she’d already prodded him more than she meant.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," she replied, rubbing her thumb across a smooth piece of shale. "Though I suppose I should apologize, myself, for startling you."

"Well, technically I think that was the kettle," he said with a nervous chuckle.

She snorted. "True. Dreadful loud that kettle is."

As she swept the last bits of rocks towards her, she heard him shuffling his feet. It was an odd sound. Not quite all there. "It… it doesn't seem to be raining anymore."

"Nice and sunny out, indeed." She kept an ear on him, still managing her rocks.

"Um. Thank you for letting me borrow your roof."

The rocks clattered back into the basket. "You're welcome to it as long as you might need."

"…Even if it's not raining anymore?"

She turned back round to face him and smiled. His eyes were a satisfying shade of brown. "Even then."

He beamed back.

Gail walked over to a makeshift desk to the side of the room and started sorting the rocks into their proper containers. Hesitantly, the lad hovered into the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room space.

“I… I still don’t really remember anything,” he said. “I think I have amnesia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Gail gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to help with that?” She gestured for him to come closer.

“Well, I don’t know.” Like a puppy prepared to be yelled at, he edged further into the house. “In all honesty, the fact that I couldn’t remember anything terrified me. Still does, kind of, but it’s not as shocking now, I suppose. I don’t know why I didn’t realize. I mean, how do you forget your entire life but just not think about it? Doesn’t make sense.” He trailed off with an attempted chuckle.

“Maybe it was something that happened recently?”

He squinted at what she was doing, seemingly half-intrigued about her activity, half-absorbed in his own nervous narrative. “I… I don’t think so. Or maybe the amnesia was recent? I don’t know. I kind of… remembered bits? But it’s very fuzzy, like it might have happened in some odd kind of dream, a long time ago. Or maybe not that long ago. Dreams can be weird. But so can memories. Like when something happens yesterday but it feels like it’s always been your past, that kind of thing. Or at least that’s what last time I was here felt like, I think, but that could just be because that’s all I can remember right now. But I don’t even know how long ago it was that I was here. I get the impression that memories are tricky.”

“True, that,” Gail chuckled. “You said you remembered something, though?” She rubbed her thumb over the ridges of a large creek pebble appreciatively, then dropped it into its jar with a satisfying clink.

“What are you doing?” He asked, tilting his head, curiosity temporarily overshadowing his dilemma.

“Oh, me? Sorting rocks.”

“Why?”

“If I don’t, they’ll just be a mess.” She waved her hand over the assortment. “This way it’s easier to get at the ones I need.” She wasn’t sure if he was dodging the question again or just distracted.

“O-oh.”

She chuckled again. “For terrariums, that is. I’m not just mad about rocks, though I do like them.”

“Terrariums?”

“It’s a hobby of me and my husband’s. While he’s away, I gather materials—and sometimes do a few myself—and then when he’s back, we work on one together.” She was sorting them roughly by size and color. Absently she wondered if she’d need to take a trip to the shore sometime soon to stock back up on driftwood.

“Could I… maybe… see one?” He had his cautious puppy act on again.

Resisting the urge to kid him a bit for his skittishness, she nodded and went to the living room (really only a bulge on the side of the dining room, but still rather nice for sitting), and picked up one of the first ones she and Michael done together, in the bottom of a large, broken canning jar that had once been the size of a small bucket.

“Here,” she said, and held it towards him. “The edges aren’t sharp anymore. We sanded what we could and covered the rest with a sealant.”

It was a simple terrarium, really. Not much more than moss arranged around a large lump of red flint they’d found when wandering along the creek, with a few small little plants stuck in. And the container wasn’t the prettiest, with the sealant smeared across most of the edges around the opening. Still, it was a good memory, so she liked to keep it watered and tended, and even though she didn’t know what kind of moss they’d gathered, it was one of her favorites—it flowered in the summer and smelled lovely.

"Can I touch it?" He asked. When she nodded, he slowly reached out and put his hand in the container, running his fingers along the rock and pressing their tips gently against the moss. "It's so strangely soft and not soft." He looked up and smiled and his eyes were very brown. "It feels nice. Almost scratchy, but comfortable. I like its texture."

"Isn't it just lovely?" Gail agreed. "Moss is one of those things that isn't hard to find, but is still so satisfying every time you do. I think it's one of the marks that God made this world with love."

The lad nodded absently. He was frowning slightly, and for a moment didn't seem quite all there, his edges ever so slightly blurring.

"I think I remember something about moss," he said. "I'm not sure. But it wasn't very green, and there were whole plains of it. Underground, I think. And blue. I think we might have been safe there, but I don't know." He looked back up at her. "Does any of that sound… familiar? Since you know about moss."

The lad looked so hopeful, Gail wished she could say yes. "Well,” she replied, pursing her lips as if in deep thought, “we don't have many caves around these parts. Soil's not built for it. And I don’t profess to know much about the subject one way or the other, but I can't say as I'm familiar with blue moss."

"Oh." Feeling along the edges of where the rock and moss met, he pressed his hand down again, softly. Gail noticed that it did not leave much of an impression, if any. "Maybe it was just the way it looked? Maybe it wasn't blue." He withdrew his hand. "But if there are no caves around here… I don't know. It was certainly underground." He frowned. "Well, I'm pretty sure. I… I guess I can't say for certain, can I? Since I don't know."

Gail resisted the urge to set her terrarium down and pat his back or try to hug him. The poor lad looked frightfully lost. "Perhaps you were a traveler in your time, before coming here. I will admit, I don't know much about what lies beyond my little corner of the world, so who's to say caverns of blue moss might'nt be out there, somewhere?"

Even as she said the words, they felt unlikely. Maybe because she didn't quite believe them herself—but it was true, at least, that she didn't know much about the world beyond Florida, or even beyond this northern slice of it. She could have hope in her own ignorance, for the lad's sake. Perhaps her Michael might know, or she could write to her son up in the Northern colonies. They were both much more widely traveled.

"As your memories come back, mayhaps you might learn to know more about it."

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket, eyes still on the ground. "I hope so. It's… disconcerting, to know so little about what you can trust from your own head."

"We'll figure it out," Gail said, wondering if there was any way to physically console someone who couldn't be touched.

"I… I also really don't mean to drag you into this," he said. "We're both just strangers to each other. I wouldn't want to presume too much on your hospitality."

Gail clucked her tongue at him as she put the terrarium on the table, where he could still find it if he wanted. "Trust me, young man, this would be the best use of my time. I couldn't in good conscience just turn you out, anyway, and well, what can I say? I'm a meddlesome old lady. I like fixing other peoples' problems, if I can."

"Oh." He picked at the edge of his waistcoat. "That's… that's really kind of you. I… I'm not sure what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything, if you'd rather not. You're welcome to just be here for a bit, if you'd like."

"I… I think I'd like that." He looked up at her again. "I wouldn't be a bother if I just stood by and watched you work?"

"No bother at all." Gail waved a dismissive hand. "I guarantee you'll be a lot easier to work around than toddlers, though admittedly it has been… a few years, since I've had to do that. I'll just be working on a new terrarium, anyway, for old Mrs. Oberson. She's been quite sickly for a while now, and having living things about you really brightens a room up."

He followed her back to the desk, where she pulled out a largeish jar and set it up, hunting down the different components she needed from the desk, and adjusting her glasses to a higher zoom setting to better view the details. The plan for this terrarium lay on a card pinned to the desk, half-recipe, half-sketch. Michael had helped her come up with it before he left, and now was as good a time as any to get it going. She’d need more time, too, since her hands weren’t as steady as they used to be.

Previous

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[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter Nine: I Want You

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Michael takes care of you after a long day at work.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but other than that fluff, fluff, FLUFF!

Word Count: 5.7k

A/n: This is so sweet y'all. I wrote some real domestic shit here and I am so excited to share this with you. I re-read it a million times and added even more fluff until I decided it was okay to post. Also, I said on AO3 that we have about 2-3 chapters with fluff before the Angst Train takes off again. The next one is a little angstier, but there is also a lot of fluff in there, and you're only going to start hating me after Chapter 12 :) If you want to be tagged or I forgot to tag you, let me know! (AND LOOK AT MY smiley little baby AHHH)

You find yourself at work when it finally happens.

Your phone pings and you look down to find two messages on your screen. One is from Michael, and when you open it, you have to stop yourself from laughing because why is he sending you a picture of your unicorn mug with a double espresso in it?

You store it away to answer later. The message that matters most to you is the one underneath. Maya’s name stands written over your lock screen and you have never opened your texts faster. 

‘Dad gave me my phone back. Going on the field trip on Saturday. Got my friend to vouch for the money. They agreed. Thank you again, so much <3 Love you.’

You almost cry out of pure relief. You do cry, in fact, but just a little. A stray tear slides down your cheek from the corner of your eye. 

Hearing Sarah’s footsteps, you quickly wipe your cheek and stuff your phone away, knowing that you’re not allowed to use it during work hours, let alone behind the counter. 

“Girl, there’s this lad in the ‘no work’ section,” she says, clearly not noticing the tears in your eyes. “He’s like, so hot. I’d fuck him.”

You’re not even surprised anymore when it comes to your friend’s ability to have the most random conversations. 

“Oh yeah?” you say, “Is that why you chose to personally bring him his coffee this time?”

“If ya looked at him, ya’d understand.”

You brush the wrinkles out of your apron and refocus on the dishes that still require to be washed after the first crowd of tourists came in and managed to ruin the three-hours worth of cleaning from the night before. 

Truth be told, you couldn’t be any less interested in the customer she mentioned, and you don’t plan on checking him out. A few weeks ago, you might have. It used to be your favorite thing to do, battling about who gets to treat the good-looking customers that came into the café. But for you, that is over now. You don't need it anymore. 

You found your good-looking customer a few days ago, and you would prefer to stay with him. 

“What, not even an interested glance?” Sarah asks. 

You shrug. “Why should I?”

“Because he’s hot–“ she breaks off into a gasp. “Oh, girl! You are down bad.”

You look away to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Shut up,” you retort, using the red towel next to the sink to dry the first few mugs from the rack. 

She eyes you before stepping closer and pulling your shirt aside. You frown at her bold move, but after spending so much time together, you no longer have boundaries. 

Sarah roams her eyes over your neck and the little bit of cleavage you’re showing. The hickeys are bright purple now, the edges slightly red where the blood is just starting to pool and she gasps again. She makes it sound as if she found out the most scandalous piece of information and you’re the main attraction in this case. 

“You’re walkin’ ‘round with hickeys now?” she asks, her voice hushed yet loud at the same time.

It sounds like she’s squealing, almost, but you’re not sure if it’s positive. 

“What are ya, fifteen?”

You pull away from her, pulling your shirt further up to cover at least the imprint of Michael’s lips on your breast. The one on your neck is for everyone to see; you didn’t bother covering it up, you’re embracing it, and you considered taking a picture to drive him crazy at home. If only he knew the glances you’ve received throughout the day, he would be at the door in a second, caging you against the wall and–

Sarah calls your name, her fingers snapping in front of your face. You blink out of your haze, your cheeks even redder now as the arousal floods through your body and meets with the yearning between your legs. 

She was right; you are down bad.

“These look brutal,” she comments, but now she doesn’t seem as angry anymore.

Maybe Michael is growing on her.

Instead of berating you, she leans her hip against the counter and smirks. “Did ya have sex last night?” 

You bite your lip. It feels weird to be talking about it because your love life has been non-existent for a very long time and you forgot what it’s like to tell your friend about good sex, but Michael is exceptional in bed and he never leaves you dissatisfied. It’s something you should brag about and yet it’s so intimate, something special between the two of you because every time you do it, it’s different. There’s not just unbridled desire between you, the emotions are just as raw and they make the experience so much more intense. 

You sigh softly when you think about the feeling of his lips against yours, your neck, and the rest of your body. His hands burn their marks into your skin. The way he sounds, smells, and feels. You can’t tear your mind away from the man he is, and he is all yours.

Sarah’s smirk widens into a grin. “Oh, yer gettin’ dicked down every night now, huh?” she says. “And you’re enjoyin’ every last minute of it. I bet yer thinkin’ ‘bout it right now.”

“You know,” you say, trying to somehow save yourself, but it’s futile because she’s right; you are thinking about him right now. Snapping out of it, you continue, “You are very invested in my sex life for someone who claims she doesn’t like the guy I’m sleeping with.”

“Yes, I am a hypocrite, but I’ve noticed that you look a lot… happier, and if he’s good in bed, I mean, why shouldn’t I profit from these stories? I’m chronically single. Doesn’t mean I like Mister I’m-A-Mobster, but if his cock is good–“

“I don’t like the thought of you thinking about his cock.”

“Alright, alright, just let me have a little somethin’. I just want to know some details. Bread crumbs. Just a taste. Please? I don’t want his cock, but I want to know more about it, if ya know wha’ I mean.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you lean in, wanting to keep this as private as possible. “Well,” you say, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes and reflecting in the mug you’re polishing right now, “My dining table suffered a little last night, and I’m not talking about spilling food.”

Sarah gasps again, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, my God!” she as much as shrieks, and you have to squeeze her shoulder to stop her from causing a scene. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, and it sounds almost proud.

What have you turned into?

She claps her hands excitedly. “Did it break?” she asks. And she almost looks disappointed when you tell her that no, it didn’t break. It only squeaked a little and left scratches on the floorboards after you were done fucking on it like wild animals. But that’s all that happened to your precious dining table.

“It should have broken ‘cause that’s the best kind of sex. If it doesn’t, yer not doin’ it hard enough.”

You snort. “Let’s just say he knows how to make me come,” you say. 

She smirks. “Like hard, or–“

“Mhm.”

“Does he cuddle after sex? Be honest.”

“The cuddliest.”

“Aw, man!” She fans herself. “What else?”

“Well, the way he does it… oh, Sarah, if only you knew.” You sigh. “So good.” 

Her eyes widen, hoping you will spill a little more than a few mysterious bits and pieces, but then your lips curl up and she knows she has been defeated.

“That’s all you need to know,” you say. 

“Ugh,” she says, “You’re boring!”

She pouts when you turn away from her to treat the next customer who just came in. 

Passing by her as you prepare the order, you halt to whisper something into her ear, “If you give that hottie your number, you might get good sex, too. Maybe even some morning cuddles like me. This café turns out to be a great match-maker.”

Seeing her face, it’s clear that Sarah considers taking your advice the second it leaves your mouth and reaches her ear.

You have an excellent day. After Maya’s text, there is seemingly nothing that can ruin your mood. The customers are all nice to you and you give them your best smile, which results in a lot of tips. You can already see a brighter future for your bank account, considering Ava allowed you to close up shop at the end of the day and do some overtime to add some more hours, and you have never been more grateful. 

You promised her you wouldn’t get overworked so easily, but when you’re finally done cleaning the café, your feet and back hurt and you’re almost too exhausted to even make your way home. But you still do because your thoughts flick to Michael and you know you won’t be alone when you get home. That’s all that matters to you when you make your way to your car and drive home.

Slowing down at the gas station, everything seems normal again after the shooting except for the police taping locking the place down for business, but you don’t feel as much threat coming from it now that the worst is cleaned up. 

Hearing that Michael’s family was involved in the shooting shocked you to your core, but death doesn’t scare you, it hasn’t for a long time, and neither does violence. What scares you is the fact that it is so damn messy, and you don’t fully understand the magnitude of the life he grew up in and his family continues to lead.

You don’t appreciate violence, so you don’t appreciate them making a living with the suffering of others – with bloodshed and drugs. It must eventually grow sad and lonely, right? It must be traumatizing. Michael is traumatized. He lost so much to his name and now he’s broken. You can’t imagine the others not feeling that way unless they’re psychopaths in which case you never want to meet them.

They’re dangerous and you should stay away, but Michael does not fit on that roster. And somehow, when you think about it, you’re more curious now than ever about what the Kinsellas have got to hide.

With every step up the stairs to your apartment, your feet grow more tired. You just want to get out of these clothes and these shoes, maybe take a hot bath to get rid of the ache in your muscles, and sleep. You have been so wound up and in your head thanks to Maya and your incompetent family, you didn’t notice how awful you have been feeling. 

You open the door, almost crying from how exhausted you are. Only after closing the door and locking the deadbolt, do you notice that the apartment is rather warm. Your heater doesn’t always work perfectly, so it’s often too cold. Tonight though, you can feel the comfortable heat of candles and a working heater hug you as soon as you step inside. 

Then you smell it. The softest whiff of pasta and garlic lies in the air. You sniff, trying to make out if it’s your neighbor’s cooking or coming from your kitchen. When you hear the clanging of utensils ahead of you, you realize that it’s not just anyone making dinner in the complex, it’s Michael. In your home. For you.

He somehow got the heater to work and still turned on a few candles to make it more comfortable for you before you got home. Now you want to cry even more because it is just so considerate, no one has ever done something of this magnitude for you before – and it’s somehow only the bare minimum.

You leave your coat and bag by the door, slowly walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Don’t get startled, I’m not a serial killer,” you say.

Michael’s head whips around when he senses your presence, his frown quickly turning into a smile. “Hey,” he says. “Yer home.”

Home. It’s a normal thing to say, but he’s referring to your apartment, the one he is staying in, and now he even cooked for you. It feels like he belongs here now, with you. 

He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a cozy, green sweater. You remember it from the first day you met. The color reminded you of the cloudy Dublin weather, but also the grass whenever it rains.

He smells good, you can tell it from where you’re standing, once again reminding you of ground coffee beans, rain, and Michael. It’s his unique scent that draws you in the most. It’s woody, almost, but also holds a certain whiff of leaves in autumn and the feeling of the soft summer air during a clear London night. You can’t explain it; there are too many sensations when it comes to him, and none of them can be put into words. 

“You okay?” his gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes are a little wider than usual, cheeks already flushed from the warmth as you look around. “What’s all this?” you ask, your voice carrying a soft, quiet tone.

Michael frowns. “Dinner?” He smiles shyly. “I thought I’d, uh, make you somethin’ ‘cause ya said ya had to work late again today, so… Sorry, I–“

You raise your hand. “I’m not mad.” 

“What?”

“I’m… you did this?” Your eyes soften even more. “For me?”

“Well, yeah, who else would I be doin’ this for? Wouldn’t cook dinner all fer myself, that’s kind of… tha’ would be a lot.”

“Michael, I…”

“Are you sure yer okay?”

With silent steps, you approach him. He follows you with his curious gaze, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to read you. You wrap your arms around his neck in answer, pulling him down into a kiss. 

He smiles when he pulls away. “Hi,” he murmurs. “What was tha’ for?”

“Being you,” you say.

It warms your heart that he went out of his way to make you dinner. He made sure the apartment would be warm enough for you because you hate the cold and he notices how much you freeze at night, and how much you rely on his body to provide heat. But you were always too proud to get someone to look at your heater, so he took a look at it for you and found an easy fix. He did all of that without batting an eye, using his time alone for good, and you’re not sure how to react to that.

“Your heater had a few loose screws,” he answers your unspoken questions. “Fixed ‘em, now it’s warmer. And your tomatoes were ‘bout to go bad, so I decided I’d make some spaghetti ‘cause that’s the only thing I remember how ta make.”

You place your hands on his face, stroking the faint blush on his cheeks. “Thank you so much…” 

“Ya don’t have to thank me, love.”

“Yes, I do. That’s not something I can expect, especially not after such a short amount of time together. I mean, I haven’t always been completely open with you and that would be turn-off for a lot of people, and it would prompt them not to cook dinner or- or fix my heater. I’d totally get it if you didn’t trust me and tell me now that this won’t work out, but I–“

Michael shuts you up with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips. You’re quick to stop rambling, the softness of his lips moving against yours eliciting a warmth that comes from deep within and not from outside, and it reminds you that you’re home. It’s not the apartment that makes it feel that way, it’s home.

Ever since you moved to Dublin, you had been searching for a place to call home, but your four walls have almost just been an apartment, and you struggled. Now that Michael is here with you, you feel less stranded and alone and more like you’ve finally found somewhere you belong – and that is his arms and his lips, offering you a sanctuary and a home.

Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away. “I want ya t’be comfortable ‘round me,” he says.

You can feel his hot breath fanning across your face, his fingers painting delicate patterns on the back of your neck where he is holding your forehead close to his. 

“Michael, I–” you begin, but the words elude you. 

“Shh,” he shushes you with his index finger against your lips. “It’s okay. Let’s just… have dinner, and then I’ll run ya a bath, and then we’ll watch a movie. I wanna be with ya. I don’t care if it takes a day, a month, or a year fer ya to open up ta me ‘cause I have so much left to tell ya, too; as long as I get to be with ya and get to know who you are, that’s all I care about.”

You nod in response, unable to find the right words. You have always been just a caretaker and telling people the truth has never become important before because no one cared before, but he does. With Michael, it seems that you have found someone who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all. You have found a home. In his eyes, you're not just someone who exists solely to take care of others. You're worth more than that, and he's taking care of you for a change to prove that to you. 

With a quivering smile, you brush your thumb against his cheek, cherishing the warmth beneath your touch. "I... I want that too," you finally manage to say. 

He leans in and kisses the pad of your thumb. “I know you do,” he says. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but–”

“Shh, let me take care of ya. You’d say the same thing ta me right now. And don’t say no ‘cause we both know ya would.”

Your shoulders slack as you sigh. He’s right; you can be quite the hypocrite sometimes. He smiles when your protests die down and takes your hand to lead you to the table. 

Watching him, you are amazed by how natural he looks moving around your kitchen. He’s in his element, and you mentally add another talent to his list – he seems to be an excellent cook, or he can at least stand his own in a kitchen, which is something not many can say about themselves. 

With a shy smile, he places the pasta in front of you. Michael put in the extra effort to plate the food well enough to make it look as delicious as it smells. You decorate coffee cups for a living, you know the eye of the beholder plays a big role in how food and drinks are consumed, so you appreciate it even more that he used herbs to garnish the spaghetti. 

“I’m not the best cook,” he begins. 

You glare at him from across the table, grabbing your fork. “It smells good,” you tell him. “And I’m sure it tastes just as amazing.”

“If it doesn’t, we could still order pizza.”

“Michael, darling, please stop expecting the worst from yourself whenever you create something.”

“I can’t help it, I–”

You shush him, digging into the pasta and taking a huge bite as if to prove to him you would still eat it even if it tasted like trash. You love cooking and you often do so for others because it is therapeutic, in a way. You used to cook for your sister all the time, and you would help your mother when she couldn’t. You used to make dinner for the whole family to prevent confrontation or any unnecessary violence because the fear was greater than hunger, and so food became a means for survival in more ways than once. 

You don’t like to dwell on the past, but there is a reason why you often cook for yourself rather than order takeout; you don’t know any better, and that’s also why in every relationship you have been in, you were the sole provider when it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

Having Michael cook for you is something you never thought you would experience, let alone enjoy, but the second the delicious taste of tomato sauce, garlic, and spaghetti meets your tongue, you are in heaven. 

“It’s made with love,” Michale murmurs, “I hope that’s enough.”

You reach out and gently touch his hand. “This is…” you lick your lips. He is an amazing cook, he even exceeded your expectations. “It's delicious,” you say. “And I don't just say it because I like you. This is really good.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. This is probably the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

“It’s an Italian recipe,” he says, slowly beginning to curl his own spaghetti around his fork. “Birdy brought it home with her after one of her trips and she taught me ‘cause Anna, when she was still little, I mean, loved pasta more than anythin’...” He chuckles. “So I thought I should learn how to make spaghetti, but I always thought… well, never mind.”

“You thought everyone was just pretending to like it for your sake?” you ask. 

He shrugs. You must have hit a sore spot. Nodding, you return to eating your pasta, enjoying every last bite with a soft smile playing on your face. When you meet Michael’s eyes, he’s watching you intently, his hazel eyes carrying a look you haven’t seen before, and it makes you frown. 

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he quickly looks away, flustered.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothin’, I just… I can’t believe yer here.”

“Well, I am very real,” you say as you finish your last bite. “And you just cooked me probably the best dinner I have ever had in my life, so… not getting rid of me that easily, Mister Kinsella.”

His chuckle resembles a giggle and the sound swells your heart. You look over your shoulder, standing at the stove now and filling your plate with some more pasta. “What?” you ask.

“Hungry?” he teases. 

You poke your tongue out at him. “Fuck off! I didn’t have the time to eat today.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You better not.”

“Lucky for ya, there's plenty more where tha’ came from.” He gestures to the pot on the stove. “Help yourself.”

You add another spoonful of sauce. “Oh, I intend to,” you say. 

“And I encourage ya to do so.”

You sit back down across from him, your legs now crossed, and you dig into your second serving with enthusiasm. Michael watches you throughout. 

“Was it stressful?” he asks eventually. “Work, I mean.”

Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you shrug. “It was pretty tame today, actually, compared to yesterday’s mess, but I was in pretty early and then I had to close up, so it’s been a long day.”

“You shouldn’t be overworkin’ yerself.”

“I’m okay.”

“Maybe you should ask fer fewer hours, hm? If I do happen to get the job, ya won’t be as understaffed and—”

“I asked for the overtime,” you cut him off. 

Your words hang heavily in the air as he processes your words, then immediately frowns when they start making sense in his head. “Why?” he asks. 

You finish your plate and set it aside, shrugging. “Needed the money,” you say. 

His frown deepens. “How much?” His hands pat his pockets as if he’s searching for something, maybe even his wallet. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Michael, you don't have to…” The last thing you want is to take money for him without him knowing why you're short this month. 

He interrupts you, still.  “Please, just tell me,” he says. “How much?”

You sigh. “Fine,” you relent. “It's not that much, just a couple hundred quid. But that's why I asked for more hours. It's just to make rent due this month. Please, don't–”

You’re not sure why the most human struggle embarrasses you so much, maybe because he doesn’t know the full story, and maybe because he thought you had somewhat control over your life and now he realizes that you don’t. It makes you feel utterly pathetic. 

He looks at you so softly, you want to cry. He pulls out a roll of money and places it between you on the table. You don’t even want to know where he got it from, a feeling of unease spreading through your body. 

“I don’t have rent to pay,” he says. “I got that from… well, doesn’t matter. Point is, I got that after I got out and was still searchin’ for a job, and then I started with Amanda and I… I don’t need it. I have some stashed away for emergencies, and if yer strugglin’ to make rent due, then you need it more than me.”

If someone from his family gave him the money, it surely is connected to drugs or any other kind of crime they use as their main source of income. He notices your hesitation and the bewildered look in your eyes, and he sighs, sliding the money back to his side. 

“I get it,” Michael looks down at his hands, “Ya don’t want it because of– Sorry.”

You reach out and gently place your hand over his, stopping him from retracting the money. “No, wait,” you say. “I'm sorry. I appreciate your kindness more than you know, but…”

“I don’t want ya to question where it came from. I get it, trust me.”

Your lips curl into a sad smile. That’s what you’re doing; you are questioning where it came from and if it could get you into trouble if you were to pay this money into your bank account. You’re questioning if Michael had something to do with getting this money in the past, or what his family did to get that batch in the first place. It looks like a lot of money, and part of you wants to take it because it would help your situation, but your common sense speaks louder than words. Besides, you don't know how to accept help even if it’s served to you on a silver platter. 

“This isn't because I don't trust you,” you feel the desperate urge to add, “This is just me… and the fact that I’m just as confused as you are, and this…. I can’t take your money, no matter if it’s from your family or not. I have to find a way to get back on my feet on my own. Somehow… I can make rent due. I have to.”

Michael gently takes your hand and places it over the money. “Yer gonna work yourself to death,” he whispers. “I just… I just want t’ help ya. If it makes you feel better, I will pay all of yer bills and your rent, you don’t even have to touch it, but I can’t watch ya do this to yerself longer than ya have to.”

You meet Michael's eyes. It's both overwhelming and comforting at the same time how concerned he is. His offer is tempting, and a part of you wants to let go of your pride and accept his help. But another part of you is fiercely determined to stand on your own feet. You don't want to be dependent on anyone ever again. But it's money, and it isn't as easy to come by as you originally thought when you first moved across the sea. 

You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you admit quietly. 

“Yer not,” he says, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Please? Can I help ya just a little?”

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. 

“Is tha’ a yes?”

“Yeah,” you answer huskily. The unshed tears in your eyes are burning, your body exhausted and overly sensitive. 

He smiles, getting up and walking over to your side of the table. “C’mere,” Michael urges, his arms already outstretched for you. “Let me hold ya. Yer exhausted.”

The comforting scent of his cologne envelops you as you place your head against his chest. He embraces you tightly, his strong arms holding you as close as he humanly can, you let out a soft whimper. His hands work their making over the sore skin of your back, and you find yourself falling further into his arms until all you can feel is him. You can smell him, hear his heartbeat and feel his breath tickle the crown of your head as he leans down to kiss your scalp.   You lose yourself in the feeling and for a moment, you allow yourself to breathe, shaking off the weight of the day and the days far before that. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, your nails clawing at his shirt. “For everything. Just… thank you.” He caught you when you were falling, and you are still not quite sure what you did to deserve this kind of devotion. 

Just as you took care of him, he is taking care of you now; isn’t that what a relationship should look like? You heard about it, but you have never experienced it before he came along, but you know you don’t want to live without it anymore. 

He keeps his promise of running you a bath. The hour you spend in the tub of warm water and bubbles soothes the ache from your muscles and offers your feet some sweet relief. Your favorite candles adorn the side of the tub and you sink further into the bath, wanting to be consumed by this cozy feeling forever. 

The door opens eventually after a gentle knock, and Michael comes in to check if you’re still awake – it’s sweet that he wants to prevent you from drowning, which you appreciate because knowing you, you would fall asleep in the bathtub and fight for your survival later. 

He settles down at the edge of the tub, gazing over you. You reach out to take his hand. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask. 

“If ya want me to,” he says. 

“Always.”

“Okay.”

Michael sheds his clothes and you watch curiously as he undresses. You move a little to make space for him behind you, and he slides into the tub with you. 

You lean back against his broad chest, his arms encapsulating you instantly. You sigh. His warmth matches the one of the bath water and you find yourself hulled into a serene state of mind that doesn’t happen very often to you. 

He strokes your arms and your hair, getting some of the strands wet that you tried to tie out of your face, but with him so close to you, you don’t mind. You relish in the gentle intimacy of your moment together, and even he seems to relax visibly behind you, his muscles slacking as he pulls you fully into him.

His heartbeat thuds against your ear as you turn a little, listening to your favorite lullaby. His chest moves your head up and down with every rise and fall. 

You’re content. 

You spend some more time in silence together before the water runs cold and you are forced to get out. You get up first, wrapping yourself in a towel. Michael watches your every curve with a gentle smile on his lips, and maybe he’s a little flustered seeing you so effortlessly naked moving around him as if you have been together for years. 

As you brush your hair and tie it back up into a bun, he gets out, too, and dries himself off. You don’t talk throughout, you simply share stolen glances and soft smiles, his arms wrapping around your waist and hugging you once again. You speak through the language of touch and you both know how to translate. 

Later that night, he makes some of the Popcorn he found in your cabinet, and prepares some drinks while you settle in on the couch with a giant blanket that covers you whole. 

When it comes to picking a movie, you find yourselves at a crossroads because you share very not-so-similar interests.

“Just put on what you want,” you say.

“No,” he retorts, “That defeats the purpose of a movie night.”

“But I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“As long as I have ya in my arms, I can never be unhappy.”

He makes you blush with his comment and you cave, putting on a movie from your watchlist. It’s a new one, something Netflix just put out. A rom-com. Michael is not a fan, but he settles in next to you anyway, pulling you into his chest.

The blanket lies over you both as the intro of the movie starts, and fatigue instantly settles over you. His hand cradles your head close to his heart, his other arms draped around you. He’s your rock, quite literally. 

You cling to him, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the day and the mental turmoil you have been in the days before. It all falls off your shoulders in his arms and you find yourself gradually sinking deeper into the pits of sleep before you can even taste the buttery popcorn he prepared.

His fingers move along your scalp, massaging the skin, and that’s the moment when you begin to clock out completely. Your eyes roll back. You lose yourself in his touch and his gentle whispers in your ear, the stupid comments he makes about the movie you can barely pay attention to, and your eyes flutter closed.

Looking down, Michael notices that you have drifted off to sleep. A small smile forms on his lips. As he’s turning off the tv and adjusting you so he can carry you to bed, the sudden movement startles you.

“I’m awake,” you slur, your eyes open, but your mind still asleep.

“Shh,” he cradles your head and places you back on his chest, “I’m just movin’ ya to bed,” he says. “Go back to sleep, love. There ya go. Good girl.”

You close your eyes again, your consciousness slipping once more. 

Michael lifts you up and gently takes you to bed. Tucking you in with the same loving touch he's always had, he makes sure you're comfortable first before even thinking about himself. You nestle into the softness of the blankets, his warmth still lingering on your skin. As he pulls away, you instinctively reach out, afraid he might slip away if you don't keep him close to you.

He climbs into bed next to you, and as soon as he's next to you, your body curls into his. “Don’t go,” you murmur. “Stay.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer as your bodies mold together, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. “Always,” he whispers. His lips find your forehead. “I'm right here.” 

And he won’t be going anywhere, that much he promises. 

Tagging for this Series: @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[gumballavocadoharry]

Faking Sick; Jack Chambers:

There was Roger, the master mischief maker who was constantly trying to see how far he could amount to before getting caught. But today was different. Roger was fed up with the of the hustle and bustle that came with school. Rigid teachers, unfledged classmates, piles of arbitrary homework became too much for the young lad. So he faked a sick day. Simple. He knew his doting parents would just shower him with affection and sympathy if he played his cards right and successfully played it off. 

So he did.

Alice was going to go shopping with the girls later on and Susan was going to be in school the way Roger should have. Jack was the only who earned his two days off from work and as fate had it, he would spend it catering to his 'sick' little boy. Roger greedily mixed together his famous vomit concoction and hid by the toilet in the bathroom.

"Dad!" He called from his room, still snuggled into his bed with the covers laced around him and a subtle guileful smirk spread across his face. Jack on cue came running into his son's bedroom with a floral print waisted cooking apron wrapped around his waist.

"What is it Roger?" "I don't feel well." He whined in an ailing voice. Jack raised an eyebrow and looked on with perceive. "Really?" He said with unsureness that raised his voice higher. Roger nodded, trying to make his eyes look sick. But little did Jack know, Roger came fully prepared with a fake fever, fake vomit and rehearsed coughs and sneezes.

Before Jack could catch Roger's goat, Roger was off to the bathroom and 'spilling his guts' when a worried Jack came in to check on him.

Maybe he really is sick? Jack thought before going over and rubbing Roger's back. "It's okay buddy, daddy's here." he said softly. "Why don't I clean this up and then I'll be there to tuck you in?" Jack said with a babyish tone. Roger nodded and stumbled weakly to his bedroom and waited for his father to come.

Roger grew bigger with satisfaction from the deceit he had brought upon Jack and a concerned Alice and Susan. "Maybe I shouldn't go out today," She said while ushering Susan out to the car. "No, no. I'll take care of Roger while you're gone, you have a good time." Jack said while giving Susan and Alice a goodbye kiss. He waved them goodbye before going back inside to tend to Roger.

"Roger are you all comfy in bed?" Jack dotingly asked. Roger nodded pretending to be a frail and innocent baby. Jack's paternal feelings grew stronger as he tucked the covers around Roger and peppered his cheek with kisses. "Does your tummy hurt?" Roger shook his head. "What about your forehead, or your chest?" "Well, my chest feels a little congested but otherwise...I'm doing okay." He said faking coughs and sneezes in between.

Jack put a sympathetic hand on his cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. "I'll make it better, I have just the thing." Jack ran out of the room leaving Roger perplexed and anxious. Roger smiled as if he was getting away with something. Finally getting his well 'deserved' break from school and the homework and the teachers, schoolmates, oh it was almost just too perfect!

That was until Jack came in with vapour rub and a thermometer. Yep, he was going to give real medicine to Roger's fake cold. "Okay buddy, daddy's gonna give you some medicine for your sick chest." Jack said with a babyish voice. He sat on Roger's bedside and opened up a hesitant Roger's pajama shirt.

Jack felt with his forehand Roger's chest. "Yep, it's congested. It's hot." Roger watched in consternation and embarrassment as his father scooped up a glob of vapor rub and brought it into contact with his young son's chest.

Roger winced as Jack spread the thick consistency across his chest in a gentle motion until it was rubbed in. The strong menthol aroma stung Roger's eyes and nose. "There, do feel better?" Roger gave a firm nod with a matching smile, although Jack still seemed to be oblivious to the agitation of not getting what was expected from Roger.

"Oh, and I have one more thing for you..." Jack poured some medicine on to a big spoon and held it in front of Roger much to his horror. That spoon is bigger than the mixing one mom uses! Roger thought.

But Jack was insistent on wanting to give Roger the medicine. "Come on Rogie, open for the choo choo train." He babyishly cooed. Roger's cheeks blushed. But before he could speak, Jack shoved the accursed medicine into his mouth with the gargantuan spoon into his 'train tunnel'.

Roger harshly swallowed the scheduled consequence of his lie. "There, right into the tummy station." Jack patted Roger's tummy gently. Roger felt so infantile by that.

Jack stuck a thermometer into Roger's mouth. Roger became panicky as his fake fever was starting to fade, so out of desperation, he blew hot air inside so as to continue the lie. It worked, so when the thermometer was finished taking it's reading, Jack took it out and still looked concerned. Roger felt a sense of serenity befall him as he had played his father's compassion like a violin in an orchestra.

Jack pressed a gentle kiss to his son's cheek and tucked the blue colored covers around him with a gentleness and excused himself to grab more quilts of different colors to cover his Roger to fend off from the cold. "Hmm!" Roger could barely talk from all the covers that swallowed him. Sweat dripped from his face and all over his body from the heat that built up.

"You just rest. I'll bring you some hot soup and orange juice." Jack said while fluffling Roger's pillows. "Get better, I love you." He said before smooching Roger's sweaty cheek. Jack went downstairs and prepared a freshly made broth for Roger, with fresh cut carrots, celery, cheese and chicken.

And then with some freshly poured orange juice into a cup, lunch was ready for Roger. Jack took the smorgasbord of broth, orange juice and a bowl of fresh cut strawberry slices up to Roger's bedroom.

Roger eventually freed himself from the quilt prison, and started to read some comics hidden under his mattress. "Roger, lunch is served." Jack said setting his lunch down on his desk. "You're supposed to be sleeping, not reading right now." Jack clasped the comic and set it aside. "Eat up bud." He tied a bib made from a napkin around Roger, much to his dismay.

Jack noticed Roger hesitate to eat the soup prepared for him, so Jack took the spoon full of the chicken noodles and led it to Roger's mouth. It wasn't until Jack practically made him open his mouth to taste the delectable meal Jack had made especially for his ailing son.

Although Jack underestimated how much Roger hated being treated like a baby to the point of Roger wondering if his father had caught on to his little charade and was purposely babying him. But what if Jack really was that unheeding to his little man's annoyance of his constant overbearing hold he had onto Roger's cosset baby years, a picture of the little bambino wearing his small white fluffy diapers and sucking his thumb was permanently burned into his brain and it wasn't something he was about to let go of that easily.

So he fostered it much to the concern of his wife, the relief of his daughter and the resentment of his son. Jack thought it was cute, Roger did not. Period.

Roger had thought the soup had tasted delicious but was still desperate to keep up this mind over matter until the school day ended. After lunch, Roger was put straight to bed to rest and enjoy some comics. "I'll check on you later champ." Jack leaned down and pressed a smooch to Roger's cheek. "Please rest up Roger....I love you." He said softly with disquietude, which made Roger rethink the whole situation and the tricks he was playing. Maybe dad really was sincerely concerned?

Jack pressed another kiss to Roger's cheek this time a little longer than before, adjusted the light and left the room quietly, looking back with deep worry.

Roger sunk in his bed feeling deep regret with how he treated his father. Making him worry himself with agony, giving him undeserved and undivided attention and affection and was by his bedside catering to his every cough and sniffle and cries about pain and discomfort.

Roger thought about coming clean, but decided against it and then fell asleep. He woke up to the sound of his mother and sister's voices that echoed through the living room and were about to enter his bedroom.

"Sweetie?" His mother's voice sounded with a knock on the door. Alice entered the room with Susan who rushed to his bedside. "How do you feel honey? Was doctor dad nice to you?"

Roger gave an roguish smirk and fluttered his eyelashes. "Yeah, he made me soup and let me read my comics." Alice smiled before kissing Roger's forehead. "I was so worried about you all day. I called Jack and asked how you were feeling and I brought you something."

Alice pulled out a toy car for Roger. "Here you go sweetheart." Roger's eyes grew wide as he looked on with exhilaration looking at the shiny dark cherry red car that was deluxe. "Thanks mom!"

"I made you something too Rog." Susan said pulling out a toy robot from her backpack. "We made it in shop today." Roger's smile grew wider. "Thanks sis." He said giving Susan a big hug. Jack came in shortly and scooped Roger up and gave him a big hug. "Oh Roger, mommy, daddy and Susan were all worried about you." Alice placed a sweet hand under Roger's chin and kissed his nose.

"I think I feel better now." Roger said. "Well now wait a minute sport, we wanna make sure you are all better so I think tomorrow you should stay inside." Jack suggested. Alice nodded in agreement.

"But it's okay because you'll have me and your mom to keep you company and we'll play with you."

Roger looked with sudden repentance and fear. "Lucky me." He said swallowing another hard lesson: Be careful what you wish for.

[the-ren-and-stimpy-fan-club]

This the first chapter of my new fic: Le Babouin Ivre! I'll post the whole thing in a week or two on Ao3!! Enjoy!

“Oh crap, I’m gonna be late for work…” mumbled Ren, his tank top littered with dust and stains.

The chihuahua was in no mood to go to work that day; he knew it would just be the same as everyday. His boss would complain about his resentful attitude towards the customers, he would only be paid at most $5 an hour, maybe a little more if he managed to pickpocket someone or find unclaimed change on the floors of the restaurant. The jaded canine knew all of his hard labor would just be enough to buy a frozen pizza, some Corona, some cans of caffeinated cola, and maybe a package of Kents. Ren sighed as he threw on his work uniform and went out to face the cruel, unforgiving world outside.

After five minutes of endless trudging and exhaustion from the burning sun, Ren made it to Le Babouin Ivre. His bloodshot eyes stared resentfully at the cheesy sign displayed for the whole world to point at and mock with no remorse. The sign depicted a baboon, horny as hell, scratching his ass and surrounded by what Ren thought were trolls. Obviously, they were supposed to be attractive ape women, but Ren cringed as he stared at their stupid grins and hairy armpits. As Ren watched the sign flash in neon colors, he failed to notice his boss, Mr. Walrus, flopping up to him.

“HOEK, YOU’RE LATE AGAIN!!!!” the plump walrus boomed, his voice almost successfully rupturing his fragile eardrums. “THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME THIS WEEK!!”

“S-sir, I can explain, really…” stuttered Ren.

“I DON’T WANNA HEAR ANYTHING! THERE’S CUSTOMERS WAITING FOR YOU TO SERVE THEM!!! GET TO IT!!!” yelled Mr. Walrus, his ivory tusks looking ready to strike Ren.

“Sir, what do I do again?”

Ren’s eyes lingered to the restaurant door, which was opening from the inside. A pudgy cat with red and white fur was walking outside in the scorching heat. A large sun hat adorned his head, and a checkered black and white work apron was tied to his waist.

For some reason, the walrus shed his irritation and replaced it with a calm tone.

“Stimpy, my boy! You are one of the fine cooks here at this wonderful establishment! You will create masterpieces, lad! Masterpieces, works of art, and treasures that will be consumed by grateful customers! Didn’t we go over this yesterday?”

“Sorry, I forgot…” the bloated cat said, regret and embarrassment overcoming him.

His emerald eyes then met Ren’s ruby ones.

“Who’s he?” asked Stimpy curiously.

“This is our waiter, Ren Hoek! You will hand him the food when you’re finished preparing it!” answered Mr. Walrus, eyeing Ren with a hint of disgust.

“Why, hello Ren! I’m Stimpson J. Cat, but you can call me Stimpy!” said Stimpy excitedly.

“Can I call you sometheeng more realeestic, like a fat bloated eediot perhaps?” said Ren, slightly smirking.

“GET TO WORK!!!!!!!!” screamed Mr. Walrus as his face boiled with rage.

[cleverqueencommander]

Flowers

💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️

For @sapphicgodmother

It was 6:30 A.M when Shang woke up. Usually, he’d wake up at 6(like how he was a early person), but he and Carina had ended up watching horror movies and went to bed late at 12:45 A.M. which if Shang was honest, he didn’t mind at all.

That means Shang gets to cuddle Carina more.

With that said, he got up and sat up in bed, letting out a yawn before he stretched himself. After that, Shang stared down at his girlfriend, Carina, who was still sleeping peacefully like a newborn baby.

He smiled softly at Carina before he leaned over, gingerly brushing away the stray bronde hairs from her face and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Shang could have sworn he saw a tiny smile on Carina’s face.

Then, Shang got out of bed went into the bathroom to clean his face and freshen up.

….

Shang checked on Carina one last time before he left the apartment and went on a 20 minute jog in the small neighborhood in a quiet area of Auradon City.

The cool summer morning breeze blew on Shang’s face as he jogged, while humming softly to a song he listening to currently through his wireless earbuds.

As he jogged, Shang shoot a quick glance at the other neighbors, who were also jogging, but on the other side of the road, and gave them a friendly wave. They waved back to him.

The young fellow wasn’t sure how long he had jogged, since he hasn’t checked his watch yet, but out of the corner of his dark eyes, he saw something bright, like a flash of pink which caused him to stop abruptly.

Shang then jogged backwards until he stopped in front of the place or thing he saw earlier. And when Shang stopped, he turned his head and saw a small flower and pastry shop with the cursive bold letters ‘Bambi’ at the front.

Shang frowned slightly. He never actually saw this place before but from the looks of it, this small shop looked very welcoming and friendly which cast all the doubts he had on his mind.

So, Shang shook his slightly and went inside of the small shop.

As Shang entered the flower and pastry shop, he was greeted by a short, older man. He looked like he was in his 60s. He had on a big round glasses and wore a deer apron. The man had a gentle smile that graced his face.

“Welcome to Bambi’s Flower and Pastry shop, young lad!” The man greeted cheerfully. “My name is Bambi! What can I get for you today?”

Shang hummed, thinking of what kind flowers that he could get for his girlfriend before he scanned the room briefly. And when Shang found what he was looking for, his dark eyes spotted on a bouquet of flowers that he had never seen before.

“Sure, I’m intrigued by that bouquet of flowers over there,” Shang pointed towards the unfamiliar bouquet of flowers.

The older man, Mr Bambi, looked where Shang was pointing at and saw the flowers. Mr Bambi smiled and turned to the young man.

“Ah, I see that you picked the Gypsophila,” Mr Bambi said, still smiling as he adjusted his glasses.

Shang looked dazed. “A what?”

“Baby’s breath.”

Shang was still confused but nodded anyway. “Oh…”

‘Such weird names,’ Shang thought.

Mr Bambi stared at the young customer with a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“I could tell that you’re confused with the names of these tiny flowers,” Mr Bambi noted.

Shang nodded.

Mr Bambi laughed lightly. “It’s alright. Come, let me give you a little lesson on these flowers,” he then motioned his hand, signaling Shang to follow him and Shang obliged.

The shop owner proceeded to tell his customer about Baby’s breath, a flower that signifies everlasting love and a perfect flower for weddings(as Mr Bambi mentioned that, Shang blushed intensely), not to mention Baby’s breath had a sweet smell, like a rose, depending on the person.

After Mr Bambi gave a brief lesson about Baby’s breath, as well as the other flowers in the shop, Shang was invested to the point where he bought the bouquet of Baby’s breath mixed with tulips and a rose. He even bought a box of chocolate after Mr Bambi asked him.

Once Shang bought the flowers and chocolate, he waved Mr Bambi goodbye, and Bambi told Shang to come again, to which he nodded before he started jogging back to his apartment.

Boy, it would take Shang a little while before he could go home to see his Carina.

…….

Carina’s light blue eyes fluttered slowly and she let out a groan as the back pain struck her again. She sighed.

It was that 'time' of the month, and Carina wasn’t prepared at all. Thankfully, she had a new pack of sanitary pads in the bathroom and a dozen of painkillers. So that was a relief.

When Carina opened her light blue eyes, she was greeted by a huge bouquet of flowers beside her. She managed to crack a small smile as she slowly got up and sat up on the bed, leaning against the bed head so that the pain could ease. The bronde took up the bouquet and started to inhale the sweet scent of the flowers.

“Ahh..”

‘Oh Shang…’ Carina thought.

And speaking of Shang, Carina could hear Shang’s soft voice coming from the kitchen, singing . He was singing a song that she unfamiliar of.

Carina leaned forward and could hear her boyfriend singing the lines of, ‘Can I put my lips on your skin, babe’ and if she was honest with herself, she thought he sounded pretty good.

Just then, another pain struck and Carina winced. Ugh, she needs to get something to eat before she could take some painkillers.

That said, Carina placed the bouquet of flowers beside her as she willed herself out of bed and wobbled her way to the kitchen with the pain stabbing her in her lower back. It was a good that the apartment didn’t had any upstairs or else it would be hell for Carina.

She just hoped she didn’t stain the bed.

……

Shang was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for him and Carina when he felt Carina wrapping her slender arms around his waist tightly. Shang blushed.

“Morning Carina,” Shang greeted. “How are you?”

Shang could hear some muffling from his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you. Can you repeat?”

Carina sighed and raised her voice slightly so that Shang could hear properly. “It’s my time of the month.”

As he heard this, Shang’s eyes went wide. “Oh! So what are you doing here if you’re on your menstruation?”

“I want you to cuddle me. Plus I’m hungry.”

Shang smiled softly. “Alright, I’m almost done with breakfast. Gimme a moment.”

“Mhm…” Carina hummed and nodded against Shang’s tank top while Shang carefully and quickly made breakfast. He made egg omelette sandwiches with two cups of hot chocolate tea.

As soon as Shang was finished, he turned around and scooped up Carina in his arms and took her to their bedroom before coming back to the kitchen to pick up the food.

….

“Thank you Shang for making breakfast,” Carina said gratefully. “This egg omelette sandwich tastes so good!” She then took another bite into her sandwich.

Shang chuckled. “You’re welcome. After all, I’m pretty much the best cook in my family.” He wasn’t bragging or lying, he was the best cook in his family, thanks to his grandmother.

Carina giggled as Shang wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head, and Carina leaned on his chest while they were in bed watching Sailor Moon on TV.

“Shang?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for the flowers," Carina told him. "They’re so beautiful.”

Shang grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Carina hummed happily as she and Shang continued to TV.

This was what Carina wanted; her boyfriend's cuddles, a good breakfast and huge bouquet of Baby's breath to brighten her mood.

💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️💐⚘️

The end.

This was the song that Shang was singing the lyrics to: