#anyways i love him and he needs to repent and all

[uhhlifeig]

Gryffindor Common Room - Nov. 25 - word count: 794 - @wolfstarmicrofic (TW: Allusions to Walburga's A+ Parenting, SH kinda? oh and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms)

The Gryffindor common room was almost empty. 

Sirius Black sat on the edge of the armchair closest to the hearth, wand spinning nervously in his fingers.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since that night, and every moment since had felt like dragging his feet through mud. He had apologized to James, to Peter, even to McGonagall. 

They’d all forgiven him- eventually, in James’s case, but none of it mattered because Remus hadn’t. 

Remus, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes in class, who barely spoke to him except when absolutely necessary.

Sirius didn’t blame him.

And for why he was sitting in the common room? He was planning to apologize again- and maybe, just maybe, Remus would hate him a little bit less.

But now, all his carefully constructed words felt hollow, like a dead tree stump. He didn’t know if he could fix this. 

He wasn’t sure he even deserved to.

The sound of footsteps on the boys’ staircase pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up sharply, his heart leaping to his throat as Remus appeared, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

The werewolf froze when he saw him. His once-warm amber eyes were sharp now, wary. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius shot to his feet, gripping his wand tightly as a reassurance that this was real. “Remus, I- I was waiting for you. I need to talk to you.”

The other boy’s expression tightened. “You’ve already said enough, don’t you think?”

The words cut deep, but he couldn’t back out now. “I have to make this right.”

“Make it right?” Remus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You can’t just- wave your wand and undo what you did.”

“I know. I know I messed up. I know I betrayed you.”

“You don’t know,” the taller boy snapped. He took a step closer. “You don’t know what it feels like to have your worst fear used against you. To know someone you trusted- someone you loved- put you in that position.”

Sirius flinched. Every word was like a punch to the gut. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But please, just let me-”

“Let you what?” Remus’s voice rose. “Say you’re sorry again? Beg me to act like nothing happened? It doesn’t work like that!”

The dog animagus’s throat tightened. He couldn’t find the words he’d practiced. Everything in him screamed that words weren’t enough anyway. 

Nothing would ever be enough. 

“Then do something about it,” Sirius said abruptly, his voice shaky. He took a step forward and held out his wand to his ex-lover. “Here.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

The wand was shoved into his hands. “Take it. Just take it.”

“What are-”

The noiret dropped to his knees before he could think about it. He hit the stone floor hard, but he didn’t care. The sting felt right. 

“Do it.”

“Do what?” Remus asked, his voice sharp with confusion.

“Curse me. Hurt me. I don’t care. I deserve it.”

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire and Sirius’s ragged breathing. The dirty blonde stared at him, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and horror. “What are you talking about?”

“I betrayed you. I hurt you, so you can hurt me back. This is what I deserve.” the older boy’s voice broke on the last word. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, cold and cruel. 

Repent. Learn. 

Take the punishment you deserve.

It’s what you do for the people you’re a burden to.

“Sirius...”

“You’ll feel better,” he insisted, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ll see.” He bowed his head, his shoulders trembling. 

Nothing happened. 

There was no spell, no harsh words, no punishment. Sirius looked up, confused, only to find Remus standing frozen, the wand hanging limply in his hand. 

“Why did you give me this?” 

“Because you should use it,” the gray-eyed boy said. “I know you want to. You have my permission, okay?”

The werewolf’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “Sirius, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you should. It’ll help.”

“No, it won't.” Remus sounded very sure of himself- so sure, in fact, that Sirius looked up out of shock. 

He watched, shocked, as his ex-boyfriend knelt down in front of him, setting the wand aside. “You’re not your mother, Sirius,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for saying you were.”

The dam broke. Sirius’s chest heaved as tears spilled down his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Remus reached out hesitantly, his hands settling on the shorter boy’s shoulders. “We’ll figure it out- but not like this. Never like this.”

The dog animagus sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I.”

(heavily inspired by "but i want it, it's a crime" by fertilizingdaffodils on ao3! check it out, i love that fic sm)

pt. 1, pt. 2

@estellethewriter

[vis3rys]

vis ending in dorn.e for me is so poetic because we are told he would've crossed the narrow sea in a heartbeat had he known of ariann.e and the wedding pact. viser.ys having someone like arianne around who is both ambitious yes, but also rational at times would ease him into settling. viserys not dying and actually getting an arc to heal from his abusive childhood and trauma during the war to making his sister endure some of that trauma by then, repenting by being there at the end.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

“because he never accepts that it's never been about righteousness--it's about repentance.” except javert killing himself IS repentance.

well, it’s like 12 different things, because bro had gone days without sleeping and very little food and water and he already had low self-worth and kept asking the amis to kill him and just assumed he was going to die AND THEN valjean upended his understanding of the world and morality. he was really going through it & there are a lot of overlapping reasons for why he jumps into the seine.

but javert is like Number One Most Responsible guy in the whole story. taking responsibility is his Thing (forever bitter the musical doesn’t include the punish me monsieur le maire scene). how else, in his derailment, could he atone for his conceived misdeeds other than by handing in his resignation to god? in the brick he had already left a note urging his superiors to treat convicts at toulon better, which is another step in his repentance (and another crime the musical commits by not including it). jumping into the seine was another step.

honestly a lot of ppl who like the book think the musical was dead wrong to exclude him from the big heaven group sing, because it COMPLETELY undermines the themes of forgiveness and compassion threaded throughout les mis. like the musical was simply wrong lol.

This is helpful context! I am still finishing the brick, although I have fully read the abridged version, and that detail about the letter wasn't included, so I didn't know that occurred! (And thank you for the message--this is a long response but I'd love to hear more of your thoughts!)

I agree that Javert is certainly deeply distraught and remorseful; like you mentioned, his worldview is literally falling apart, and his actions reflect his mental state. But his death isn't really repentance--in the sense that it's not what God would have wanted. To me it reads like a Judas situation: a desperate realization of a huge mistake, and doing the only thing you think can make it right, namely, ending it all. That's the just punishment for someone so wrong, isn't it?

But true repentance, meaning the repentance that the Lord desires, is about changing your ways, not "paying a price." Had Javert really understood the beauty of Valjean's mercy (an image of Christ's, just as the bishop's undeserved mercy was to Valjean himself), rather than killing himself, he would have lived to also become "an honest man"--in heart. One who could forgive and understand forgiveness, for himself as well as others. One who could recognize that he is not The Law, that he can fall, but that he can also be "brought to the light." One who could accept that men like Valjean, and men like himself, CAN change, and be changed.

It's tragic to me because so much of "Stars," and his character in the book as well as the musical, is about wanting to be righteous, to rise above his birth and the sinfulness he associates it with. It's about wanting to please the Lord by his actions. But in his end, he shows he never understood what God really wanted from him, and that's where my original phrase comes in: not righteousness, but repentance. To live, and face the man you were, knowing it's no longer the man you are. That it's never been about what you've done or can do, but about what's been done for you. That's the Gospel that he could never fully accept.

To use another example you mentioned, that misunderstanding drives why he asks the Mayor (Valjean) to punish him--in his worldview, mercy is unjust, or at the very least, unfair. Evil must be punished; "those who fall like Lucifer fell" receive "the sword." But "as it is written," God "desires mercy, not sacrifice" (Matthew 9:13). God would have wanted Javert to live, and Javert couldn't see that, and that's why it's devastating to me. In his misunderstanding of the heart of God, he misses what would have set him free from the chains of sin he's always been trying to escape.

That's why he's contrasted with Valjean, who (though he carries guilt about his past till the end of his life) is eventually able to face it and confess what he had done to those he loves. He knew there was mercy to be found, if only it was asked for. Javert was too blinded by pride and shame to realize it, and so, while broken, he never was able to truly repent.

For that, you must go on.

[sammygender]

THANK YOU OLI I don't get the season 8 hype. No Cas, Sam and Dean have the same conflict they've been having the entire show with no new angles like why????

YEAH LITERALLY. inital conflict is literally dean being angry at sam for trying to move on and heal which is just so intensely unlikeable and for some reason i was shocked by it and it made me genuinely dislike him. to me dean is at his most awful in s8..... like he's not. he's definitely not. gadreel possession in s9 and like most of s9/10 with the mark is much worse than anything he does in s8 and killing amy in s7 was sooo awful too. but dean is just so intensely a dick in s8 and i was so angry with him and not even in a fun way. like in s9/10 he is AWFUL but i enjoyed the drama. i didnt even enjoy the interpersonal drama in s8. which is when you know something is wrong

then again. im probably too harsh on it and am basing it off memories of sitting through the first half because i LOVE the trials and sacrifice and the great escapist so so much. and i love kevin <3 he's s8 right. but. to me s8 will always be the worst season. maybe i just hate what it brings to the shows canon. sam leaving dean for a girl and a dog (which is NOT EVEN WHAT HAPPENED... and if it WAS it wouldve been justified.... id support sam even if i thought he abandoned dean unprovoked idc.....) is constantly brought back like the worst of his sins even as late as like. s11. SHUT UP. first half of s8 is just upsetting for sam reasons and not in a fun way

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[sinsofsummers]

logan howlett | h.c.

anyways. here's my intro to writing logan. enjoy these unedited, rambling thoughts. i personally loveeeee me some rabid, animalistic logan like in x-men (2000), so expect lots of that for this. some of these could turn into more detailed fics, so tbh just...let me know if u want one.

logan is a tits man. he loves to ruin yours.

it's like he's drawn to your chest at all times; he needs his hands on them so often that you've just stopped wearing bras.

he'll touch you absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off what he's doing. but like a moth to a flame, his calloused fingertips find your nipples anyway.

he also likes to use his claws on your chest—just enough to leave a thin red line after he's done with you. (once, he drew blood, and he's still not willing to admit the heat that it ignited in him. he doesn't think you're ready for that yet.)

you know he wouldn't hurt you—right? but logan's not exactly the reassuring type. so you just hold still and shiver as the sharp edges run over the swells of your chest.

he loves the smell of your arousal. good thing you're one nibble on your neck away from soaking your panties. at all times.

logan gets you to sit in his lap, hold your cigar for him, and then he'll lean into your chest to suck and bite on your tits.

he likes to see a combo of his claw scratches and beard burn on them.

he likes to bite you. obviously he won't leave you in terrible pain, but it's the marking of territory that he likes.

and logan can be mean. seriously. he'll take what he wants.

he doesn't necessarily mean to be unforgiving, but...he's quite the animal. bring back feral, unhinged, rabid wolverine.

he likes pet play (it's a dominance thing). being at either end of it. collar and leash vibes. calls you pup.

logan's always scowling. you tease him about the wrinkles he'll have when he's older, but it only makes them deeper as he frowns at you.

constantly growling. grunting. he rarely whines, because he rarely lets you take charge. when he does, you'd better strap in.

his claws come out when he's close, and he doesn't tease. none of this, "tell me what you want, princess," and "touch you where? use your words" bullshit. logan fucks. full stop.

he'll do you the courtesy of making sure you're ready for him, but with his heightened sense of smell and his inability to control himself when it comes to that smirk on your face when you know he's in a rut...

yeah. he gets right to it. he'll fuck you into a quick orgasm. and another. and another.

but occasionally, he loves orgasm denial.

"logan, i'm gonna—"

"don't care. hold it."

brat tamer!logan. he knows you can take it, so he doesn't hold back when you need to be put in your place.

free use!logan. he's a man of few words. sometimes he just needs you. and you're always willing to help.

he's not vocal during sex unless you ask for it. which you make sure to.

he likes to be very nonchalant, which can come off as inattentive. but it's just the fact that he knows you so well that he doesn't have to look at you to realize what you need.

you could go up to him while he's on the couch, cigar in his mouth, and just stand there. without more than lifting his eyes to you, he'll pretend to roll his eyes and guide you to his lap with a hand behind your thigh.

he'll hold his cigar to your mouth and wait for you to take a drag before you place it back between his lips wordlessly.

is this an exhibition kink vibe

he'll also just hand things to you in public, doing very casual, domestic things that he won't really acknowledge.

he'll hand you his drink to share, even if you don't like it. he'll offer you a bite of food off his fork (or his fingers).

every once in awhile you'll see his eyes watching you and you'll know. he's quiet, but it's that quiet display of dominance that will have your core weeping in seconds.

andddddd i'm gonna go REPENT!

[hana-no-seiiki]

May I request a yandere bat family with a Venti! Reader who has powers similar including his personality (except the reader doesn't drink alcohol)

I love your writing take care 🍟✨✨✨

B-but Venti’s whole personality is about alcoholism-

I’ll try my best tho so here ya go.

TW/CW: Reader takes the form of Bruce/Damian’s ancestor so they have black hair. But it isn’t their true self so make of it as you will. Soft Yandere. Multiple Invasions of Privacy.

YANDERE! BATFAM x VENTI! READER

You’re an immortal wind spirit. You reached the level of godhood quite a while ago and spent your days roaming the Earth.

Let’s say you were friends with Bruce’s (and therefore Damian’s) ancestor long ago, and after their death you took their shape.

Knowing these two’s genes you were quite the good looking fellow. Almost blending in as their distant relative.

You have no need for food, or other basic necessities. Hell you didn’t even need to go to school as your dominion over the wind allows you to know everything that has been spoken.

But you took it upon yourself to always be there to guide your friend’s progeny, and thus you found yourself in Damian’s school as his classmate.

You seemed pretty lax. Carefree. Maybe even lazy. Damian didn’t really care much about you aside from the fact that you looked a bit similar to his father. Many people had black hair anyways. It’s not like you were super cute and his eyes kept wandering back to you or anything.

But then you aced many of the classes.

He never saw you study. In fact you spent most of the class trying to distract him or conversing with his other classmates.

This caused him to do an investigation about you, where he found out that you don’t even exist.

At least in the eyes of the government and even the files his father kept.

You meet Tim similarly. Let’s say you three of you go to the same college and similar to Damian, you also decided to take care of the other batfamily.

…

You kind of bullied the poor guy.

You clicked pretty quickly and he was swift to start stalking you. But then also found himself with the same trouble of your ‘non-existence’. But unlike Damian who launches a full investigation, Tim has a one track mind.

He results to surveillance.

Dude has no care whatsoever about your privacy. He watches you wherever you go.

You know this, and are kinda bummed that you have to pretend to pee and do other human things. But since you’re immortal and well- know everything- you don’t have a sense of privacy + don’t react like a normal person.

Instead you pay him back by bullying him on his perversions

Like when he jerked off to you changing clothes

Or his secret collage of you which definitely contained photos of you being naked.

People are kind of offput by how Tim is obsessed over you, but are just completely baffled by how you reacted.

Like instead of going to the police or something you breach his privacy back instead and expose him. You don’t even seem perturbed just annoyed too.

In any case all this, including Damian’s investigation leads to you confessing the truth, and telling them that you were there to be a guide and whatnot.

Of course, everyone but Tim are a bit skeptical. But ever since you began helping them in vigilantism and showing just how much you knew and helped them they eased up.

Bruce has a little resentment since you weren’t there when his parents were killed. But gets over it once he found out how you’ve been tirelessly repenting

By stalking them

But I mean at least you tried

The rest I’ll cover more in the other ask that also requested Venti! Reader. Hopefully I’ll get to that soon.

EXTRA: Damian definitely witnessed your exchange with Tim and was jealous that you were giving his predecessor attention.

So he bullied him with you.

[moondirti]

i accidentally deleted the ask i received yesterday (like an idiot) so im dumping the rant i left underneath it for archival reasons

what i love most about big ugly brute simon is pairing him with girls who get a little too close. perhaps they catch him staring in public and smile politely, a little daunted but attributing what they can to innocent intent over malice. who treat him with basic decency, or perhaps extend a little extra kindness if they take the dead look in his eyes to be consequence of a rough day. the one's who hold doors open for him, or let him skip in line because he looks like he can really do with the coffee. the maybe he's just misunderstood, never judge a book by it's cover, treat others the way you want to be treated type.

kind, polite, genuinely good girls, who live life by the please and thank you handbook they were given in kindergarten, and were never taught when to keep it to themselves. well-meaning always, yet either foolish or curious when they give a beast the benefit of the doubt.

because while their courtesy is just that in the eyes of conventional society, it has an absolutely foul effect on one simon riley.

say it's because hardly anyone is ever keen on him. certainly not pretty birds, with pretty wrists, and pretty hair and clothes and easily corruptible smiles. at the first sign of warmth, he'll pounce. all animal, blinded hunger. cruel passion he knows you're not built to take, your heart pulpy like saccharine fruit. cruel passion that he will inflict anyway; trailing behind you all the way home, choreographing meetings, pushing your courtesy to its limits by being nothing but a rude brute. he bullies his way into your life, making a man-sized hole where he was uninvited (though he'll contest that. what does a smile mean if not lay over me and print yourself on my womb?). bullies you into submission, weaponising that tenderness to suit his real needs–

not coffee, or a good morning, or anything but a warm cunt and meal to come home to.

i don't think he'd ever ease up the intensity, either. even if you acquiesce or are flattered by the distasteful attention. though simon might soften up to you (in the only way he can: lending his ear while you talk about his day, or walking blocks in the rain to fetch takeout from that specific greek place you've been craving), he's still mean about it. presses you where you're weak, isolates you from your friends. hones derision when you continue to be just as amicable to everyone else. you must be asking for it, see, if you had been asking for it with him. is a big dick about it, callous and nasty as he can be – because you allow him to be, babbling tearful apologies into his chest instead of standing up for yourself.

doesn't believe any of it, of course. he knows you're too sweet for your own good. but he can't help but love seeing you get all desperate when you cry. makes his knees go weak. his head itch. you'll hold on to his arm – soft and wet and repentant, pure silk against his gnarled edges (a point people will always latch onto. how'd he land that? right minger he is) – until he growls something about making it up to him.

which you jump at. good, good, generous girl. will seat yourself, fine china between thighs that could crush you, and choke on his ruddy cock. maybe he holds you down on it, stuffs your nose onto the untamed mess of his pubes until your little legs kick for breath. or, maybe he'll lead you to down to fit your tongue in his ass, tugging himself over you until cum mats your hair. whatever the most vile, debased thing he can conceptualise at the moment is fair game. not necessarily because of the deed itself, but because he lives for nothing more than watching you do it despite not wanting to. to please him :(

sorry im a little crazy about this

[gretavanlace]

Breña

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, oral sex (m rec), illusions to oral sex (fem rec), fingering, etc.

Inspired by this delicious ask and blurb that was sent to me ages ago. I promised I’d get to this one, and I did, I’m just sorry it took me so long. Forgive me 💕

Loosely edited, but what else is new?

“Get fucked, Josh.” Jake barks with such venom your head snaps in his direction. He rarely speaks unkindly, even if it is only his twin brother, who will love him anyway, on the receiving end.

For his part in the exchange, Josh merely smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt with an airy chuckle. “Maybe you should take your own advice, brother. Seems like you need to get laid. Awful testy, darling.”

He means it as a joke. A laugh to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it doesn’t land and you watch on in shocked silence as Jake slaps his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table before him, and then stalks from the room without a word - his absence solidified by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.

”You shouldn’t have said that,” your admonishment is quiet, issued tepidly while you stare down into your glass of wine. You feel intrusive, yes, but you feel worse for Jake, and that wins out.

”I know,” he agrees with the decency to at least sound repentant, “But I didn’t mean it that way. And besides, it's been months. He just needs to get on with it.”

”He loved her.” Your standpoint certainly doesn’t come from a place of loyalty to Jake’s ex - you loathed her, but instead, for Jake and his clearly wounded heart.

”He didn’t love her,” Josh corrects, and likely rightly so “He loved the idea of her. There’s a big fucking difference.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t insert yourself, but you’ve never been great about biting your tongue. ”Maybe give him some time to figure that out for himself, then.”

Josh rises with a smile that tells you your candor hasn’t ruffled his feathers. It’s so difficult to rile him up that it often feels like some twisted challenge, “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time? Seems exhausting to me. You should try being a fuck up…I could give you lessons.”

He drops a kiss upon the crown of your head and trips off to place his glass in the sink. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here at Jacob’s Tavern on the Green. You want a ride? I only had the one.”

”No,” you wave him off and nip at your glass, “I might just crash on the couch. The A/C’s out at my place again.”

”Alright, then,” he shrugs on his jacket and pats at his hair as if he’s prepping for a night out rather than the quick drive home, “Don’t poke the bear though, doll face. I’d like to keep you unscathed. Kinda like you.”

”That’s funny,” you deadpan, “Because I can’t stand you.”

He wrinkles his nose, offers a quick wink, and then out the front door he slips.

The couch remains your lighthouse for a time, but everyone knows Josh gives terrible advice, so if he has warned against poking the bear, that’s obviously exactly what you should do.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, just before knocking softly on his bedroom door. “Jake?”

Your call is met with silence, but just before you turn to leave, feeling dejected and meddlesome, the door cracks open to reveal him, now barefoot and shirtless…a pair of sweats resting so low on his hips your mind wanders into dangerous territory “What’s up? Bored of my idiot brother already?”

He’s presenting a brave face, but you can see the anguish in his eyes, and also, something else that you can’t quite place.

”He left, actually.” Why do you suddenly feel so stupid? “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem…I don’t know, on edge?”

He reaches out and gives your arm a friendly squeeze, “I’m alright, sweetheart. He just dances on my last nerve, that’s all.”

And while that’s not a total lie, you also know there’s a lot more to it, so you gently push him along. “You sure, Jake? You can talk to me, you know? I’ve been there, I understand how hard it is to miss someone you shouldn’t.”

Searching your face for something you can’t identify, he lets a stretch of quiet carry on a beat too long, before finally shaking his head, holding the door open a little wider in wordless invitation.

Once you’re perched awkwardly at the foot of his bed, hands clasped and ankles crossed, he speaks up “I don’t miss her, necessarily. It’s just hard. Especially the way it ended. I just…”

God, he looks so small and walled off. “You just what?”

Slumping onto the bed beside you, he sighs “I just wish it had ended differently.”

”It never ends well,” you flop down as well, and stare up at the ceiling as though constellations might appear to dazzle you. “Everyone always hates the ending. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

”Do you miss her?” He asks, staring up at that bright, blank white just as you are.

What an absurd question. Why should he care? And were you really that great at pretending to like her to spare his feelings?

The moment seems to scream for honesty, so you hand it over. “No, I don’t. I never cared much for her to begin with, and then she…” you falter and search for a kind way to describe it, “and then she did what she did to you, and I— no, I don’t miss her at all.”

”It’s alright to just say it. She cheated on me.” He laughs a little. “Fuck, how pathetic does that sound?”

Rolling to your side to face him, you blink away his self deprecation, “It isn’t pathetic, Jake. Not on your end, anyway.”

“I suppose I just wonder what I did or didn’t do, you know?” He chuckles quietly to mask his vulnerability, “What did he do that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works,” you assure him, turning to stare up at his ceiling once again, but now reaching for his hand. “Besides, I can’t imagine you not being enough.”

He returns your encouraging squeeze and makes a half-whispered joke, a verbal mask to hide behind. “Maybe I just wasn’t good enough in bed. I swear I know where everything is, and where things go…mostly.”

”Shut up,” you laugh softly so as not to disturb the calm that has settled. “I have zero doubts about your abilities, Jake Kiszka, in bed or otherwise.”

Now, he is the one rolling to his side to face you. “And what does that mean?”

”I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling extremely on display. “It’s just…well, in my experience, men like you don’t often disappoint in that department.”

”Men like me?” You have perked his interest and plucked at that mildly conceited chord that lives within him. “And what type of man am I exactly, sweetheart?”

”I’m not going to stroke your ego, Jacob. Though if you’d like to do it yourself, I’d be happy to leave the room.”

He laughs at that, “If I planned on stroking something you’d leave the room? Another devastating blow to my pride.”

You groan in mock exasperation at his tactless humor, earning another chuckle from him. You love the sound of his laugh, and you love being the one to make him laugh even more.

”It’s not like it would matter anyway.” He sighs, nuzzling against his duvet to get comfortable. “Stroking something, I mean.”

”Jake!” Your head whips to meet his scandalous gaze.

”Oh, grow up.” He grins, eyes flashing with mischief, but still something else that you can’t place.

He’s right. You promised him he could talk to you, so you shake it off and start anew. “What do you mean?”

”I just…can’t…” he pauses, searching for his resolve. “Not since she left.”

You’re shocked, and unfortunately, not hiding it well. “You haven’t had sex since then?”

It doesn’t seem possible. He’s gorgeous and charming, charismatic and dripping sex. Women crawl for him everywhere you go.

“I haven’t done anything since she left.” He corrects, dodging your stare. “I can’t. No matter what I do. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every time I get anywhere near I—“

He abruptly cuts himself off, “I’m sorry. This isn’t cool. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“No,” the last thing you want him to do is shut down. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

He closes himself off again with a clipped shake of his head ”You don’t want to hear this shit.”

Alright, that’s it, he can’t have it his way. He can fight you tooth and nail, but you’re going to march on anyway and drag him along, kicking and screaming.

“So you haven't gotten off since the split?” You ask as if it’s no big deal…and maybe it isn’t.

“Jesus, babe…” he teases, “such a mouth on you.”

Interesting choice of words, Jacob.

”It’s just surprising to me, that’s all.” It’s a leading comment, and you damn well know it.

”Why?”

”Because you’re you, Jake.” Now you’ve spun to face him again as well. “You just walk around like living, breathing sex all the time. And you’re also a liar with your ‘mostly’ bullshit. You know where everything goes and then some. I can tell.”

”You sound terribly sure of your analysis, sweetheart.” His voice has grown quiet and it makes you long to squeeze your thighs together.

“Am I wrong?” Oh, you seem to have grown quiet as well. When did that happen? “Because I don’t think I am.”

He ignores your question, “Living, breathing sex, huh?”

”Again, I can leave the room if you’d like to sing your own praises.”

His fingers reach up to smooth an errant lock of hair away from your forehead, “You are the one singing my praises. I’m simply enjoying the attention.”

You’re further hushed at his touch ”You’re a smug little shit, you know that?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I do know that…it’s just been a bit since I could remember why.”

You want this. You want this so badly you might even be inclined to beg for it. Instead, you seize the opportunity with feigned confidence. “I could help you. If you wanted.”

His fingers are still caressing your forehead, lulling you so softly, “Help me how?”

”I don’t know,” you’re toying with the chain around his neck now, avoiding his eyes, “I could…try.”

”Try what?” There’s a smirk ghosting at the corner of his beautiful mouth, and it betrays his intentions. He knows exactly what you mean. He just wants you to say it.

Now or never. “I could get you off. If it would help. I mean, I’d like to…I want to help.”

The strong column of his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then there is his nose, nuzzling against yours, the closest to his kiss that you have ever been ”You want to make me cum?”

The way he speaks of it, as if you two have been here a thousand times together before, is so sexy your head is suddenly spinning.

You offer a tiny nod and then hurry on before you lose your nerve, “You could just lie here and I could…”

Every ounce of confidence seeps from your bones when his eyes, cinnamon sugar and blown wild with lust, catch your own.

”You could what?” He presses the gentlest kiss against your cheek.

”I could use my mouth…I…” fuck, you can hardly breathe, and the room feels too small, crowded up with tension and long repressed desire.

A needy, hungry groan rumbles out of his chest as he pulls you a little closer. “You would do that for me?”

”Of course I would.”

His eyes are on your lips now, agonized and desperate. “Have you thought about it before, or do you just feel sorry for me?”

He knows the answer. There’s that smugness you spoke of.

”I think about it all the time.” You whisper honestly. “Do you?”

”No.” his hands fist into your hair. “I don’t think about my cock in your mouth,” oh god, the way those words tumble off of his pretty tongue, dripping saccharine but so dark “but I do think about my face between your thighs…how you’d sound. How you would taste. How you might rock your hips against me when I got you close.”

In response, you’re on your knees before him in a breath, fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats, imploring him with your gaze for permission.

He nods with a hitching inhale and that’s all the confirmation you need. Pulling them down, there it is. Stunning and achingly hard, thick and pulsing for you. As breathtaking as an obscene symphony. He looks so ready, leaking opalescent droplets into the soft dusting of hair below his belly button. You doubt you’ve ever wanted anything more.

The flat of your tongue runs warm and wet from base to tip, nudging harder at that special spot just below his velvety head. How did you know? He wonders as he twitches against your kiss.

After such a long stretch of fighting to get off, he’s now frightened he just might embarrass himself and cover your lovely face before you’ve even had a chance to suck him in.

But suck him in you do, without warning, and so deeply he can feel the silken back of your throat. Lurching forward, curling in on himself against the pleasure, he chokes out a humiliating sound and grabs at you…one hand tangled in your hair, the other clutched around the nape of your neck. “Oh my god, baby, please…”

You nod your understanding and swallow around him, sweeping your tongue back and forth. He sounds blissful but pushes you away without warning. “M’gonna cum,” he murmurs through his panting breaths, “just give me a second.”

How has he gotten here so quickly? It’s horribly humbling, but he wants it so badly his heart is resting in his throat, thrumming savagely, pulse-points pounding a fierce and uncontrollable beat.

”That’s the fucking point, Jake,” you fist at his wet cock and drink him back down once before pulling back, “You need it, I can feel it. Cum in my mouth. Please?”

Your please, so sweet and innocent while asking for something so filthy, snatches a growl out of him that flushes you with unbearable heat.

Both of his palms find either side of your head tentatively, “Can I stand?”

You nod eagerly around him, and then gaze up at his face once he is hovered above you like a deity soaked in depravity. There is a pink blush painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that makes you feel as soft as warm cotton.

“I want to use your mouth,” he hushes, “Is that alright?”

Again, you merely nod with your mouth stuffed full of him.

”You give me a little shove if you want to stop…” he coddles your cheek, and speaks like a lullaby as you blink up at him in consent.

When he drives inside of you, it is a vicious invasion, but one that you’d plead for over and over again. He is buried so deeply inside your throat you can scarcely breathe, but the threading of his brow and the steady moans dripping from his lips are all you’ve ever wanted.

He’s twitching already against your tongue, slipping deeper into you until you’re fighting a gag that only wrecks him further.

One, two, three, thrusts and he is reduced to whimpers, “Shit, oh god, please, I need it. I need it so bad. I need to—“ a pained grunt, through gritted teeth, interrupts his babbling, “I’m cumming, sweetheart…”

The taste of his release dances across your taste buds as you struggle to swallow him down.

He is shuddering and cursing above you, holding you still as he shakes his head violently in apology, “I’m sorry…” his voice is but a phantom of itself, “It’s too much, I shouldn’t have…not in your mouth…oh fuck, fuck…”

And you’d tell him if you could, that it is a privilege…his offering, a gift. Instead, you allow every drop to roll down your throat as you suckle gently for more until he is shivering in overstimulation.

Finally, you allow his cock to slip from your mouth as his thumbs sweep over your cheekbones. “I— goddamn…thank you, sweetheart. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

”You’re welcome, Jake…” your thumbs find their own place to sweep against - his thighs. “Thank you.”

His lips part to protest, but pull back into a snarling hiss when you wrap your hand around his length “You’re still hard.”

He looks half-bashful, “I’d say it’s been a while, but I think it’s just you.”

”Yeah?” You rise from your knees and nip at his chin, “Have I made you hard before?”

”Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” His grip sinks into the dips of your hips beneath your shirt, “Do you like knowing you’ve made my dick ache?”

”Maybe,” you shimmy your shoulders nonchalantly, “or maybe I’m just a cock tease.”

”Get on the bed.” He demands, in lieu of an actual retort, while tugging at the button and zipper of your jeans. “Everything off. You may lay however you’d like, but I want that pussy on display for me…let me see her.”

You may? Well…there’s that bit of dominance you had imagined hidden away inside of him more times than you care to admit

Dropping down on the bed, completely bared to him for the first time, you close your eyes against his appreciative scrutiny, “You’re fucking perfect,” his words are nearly vibrating, “Stay just like that and let me look at you.”

Demurely, you do as he says.

”Legs a little wider, babe…lemme see that sugary little cunt,” oh, he’s deliciously dirty.

”Hi, pretty girl,” he coos when your knees press against the sheets.

”Hi.” You murmur back softly.

He ever so gently waves you off, “Not talking to you, sweetheart. Mind your own business.”

Your cheek kisses linen as you nestle your face into the bed, content to allow him to have his private moment with your pussy. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he gets

His fingertips are there now, curling so lightly over your swollen clit, pretending like they just might nudge inside you now and then, until you’re writhing with want. “Please, Jake…” a tremulous, tiny mewl escapes you. A vexing little sound that heats your face and betrays your need.

His eyebrows quirk upward, “Inside?”

”Inside.” You nod earnestly.

Without warning, you’re filled with his middle and ring fingers. They search along your walls as his gaze clocks your expression until you cry out. “Right there, baby?” He pouts, mocking your whine. “Is that the spot?”

”Faster,” the blood in your veins is rushing at a feverish pitch, the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue has broken you wide open.

“No,” he shushes, the soft pad of his thumb nudging at your clit “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Relax for me.”

You do your best and fill your lungs to the brim with air that smells of sex and him before releasing it slowly.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises, fucking you gingerly with his hand as if this is all either of you will ever do for the rest of your days…no rush. “When you cum, can this pretty princess make a mess?”

”Hmm?” You’re a million miles away, drifting through his sea, you’ve barely registered him speaking to you.

“If I make you cum,” he clarifies, pressing up into that place that makes you whimper and half-squirm away. He holds you down firmly, but with such tenderness. “Stay still, for me. If I make you cum just right will you soak my hand all sweet and warm?”

”I can’t…” you flush with inexplicable shame, “I don’t do that.”

”That’s alright…you just let me take care of you.” He sounds like he’s coddling a wounded bird just before he begins curling and massaging inside you with a tiny smirk on his face that seems to claim he knows something you don’t.

Never before has anyone’s touch dismantled you so perfectly, and you’re soaked and dripping; wet, heavenly sounds filling the room to mark your pleasure.

“No messes for my sweetheart? Just a neat and tidy little baby?” He taunts as your thighs begin to tremble, “I think you’re lying. maybe not with someone else, but I know you’ve worked this pretty, wet cunt just right…ruined your sheets, had to fight to stay quiet so no one would hear—“

With a cry that could be mistaken for agonized, you let go…barely there-tiny bursts of slick sprinkling across his palm like a spring mist. Were he a garden, he would bloom so beautifully under the kiss of your meager shower.

“There we go, sweetheart,” your eyes are locked in on his arm, watching the muscles turn and twist as if you’ve been hypnotized. “C’mon, just a little longer, relax, sweet girl, relax…”

It’s like lying in too-tall grass on a breezy day. Warm and gentle like an embrace, and his voice is ferrying you through it all so sweetly. How could she have ever given this up?

When you begin to tense against his ministrations, he pulls back delicately and pats the inside of your thigh, huffing the softest sigh of a laugh, “And you said no messes.”

“Jake,” your hands are instantly hiding your eyes, face sparking heat with a euphoric fluster.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers, kissing a path along your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about that for a very long time.”

“Please,” your entire body is still inwardly writhing and you can’t manage much more.

“Please what?” His hand, so gentle and soft, drags yours downward to wrap your fingers around himself. He is thick, throbbing rhythmically, and so hard, “You want that?”

He sounds in control, but it’s all there for you in his eyes, he wants this badly. He needs this. He needs you…and not simply because it’s been months.

Grabbing his free hand from where it is resting beside your head against the mattress, you guide it down until his fingers are stroking delicately across you, wetting his touch, warm and silken, “You want that?”

He visibly falters, face ducking to find solace in the crook of your neck, “I want you,” he whispers so airily you aren’t even sure you’ve heard him, “I want you so fucking badly. Please, baby…”

His voice is hushed, dragging across your skin hot and wet, desperate and hungry, you couldn’t deny him even if you were crazy enough to want to.

“You don’t have to beg,” you promise, hands now petting through his hair. “You take what you need, Jake…it’s all for you.”

”I need to get off again first,” the words sigh warm against the shell of your ear, “I’m too close. You’re so pretty and warm, and you smell so good. My sweetheart.”

”Well, look who gets soft when he’s this hard.” You tease, gently stroking the cashmere tip of his cock against your clit. “You cum as fast as you need to, let me do this for you.”

Again, his beautiful face drops to hide away, mouth sucking chills into your throat.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He confesses, sounding shy in a way you’ve never heard before. “I want to get you there, too.”

You reach down deep and find your nerve, “Is this a one time thing? It’s okay to say yes.”

At last, his stare finds yours, “I certainly fucking hope not.”

”So, you’ll owe me one.” You shrug with a cheeky smile to soothe his nerves.

”No.” he shocks you with a fervent shake of his head as he lines himself up, nudging in gently with his pillowy soft tip, “I’m gonna get you off, baby…right on my cock.”

Dirty fuck, who would’ve thought?

”Deeper, Jake,” you’re whining already, fingernails sinking into his shoulders to pull him in closer. “Fuck me.”

���Say it again.” He orders, kissing a path along your jaw.

”Fuck me,” you repeat as though you know nothing but how to follow him into the woods, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…”

His cock is right there teasing at you, barely inside, working your entire body into a frenzy, you want it so badly.

”Please?” His nose Eskimo kisses yours, “You’re begging very sweetly. You sound like an angel.”

“Haven’t I begged enough?” The words pant out of you warm against his lips and that - the taste of your aching need, shoves him over the edge.

Hips rolling, he slides into you like he was made to fit. The stretch is a lovely, stinging heat that claws a blissful cry from deep within your lungs. It's his favorite sound, he decides in an instant, and he wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

As if the two of your were created simply to share this together, he fits inside of you perfectly, nestling against that sweet, hidden spot over and over until your back has arched away from the sheets and your nails scratch at him for purchase.

”So soft and tight,” his praise is but a breath, “You feel so fucking good.”

”I’m close,” you whisper back, cunt gripping at him violently, “don’t stop.”

”Wait for me, sweetheart…” he sounds filthy and angelic all at once. “I’m almost there, just…fuck, just wait for me.”

”Inside,” have you even made a sound? “Do it inside, Jake.”

”Are you sure?” He slurs, drunk off of you and ready to melt.

”Yes,” you nod frantically against the pillow, knotting your hair, “Do it. Fucking do it.”

Lost for words, he replies with a growl that takes that tightened coil deep in your belly and snaps it into pieces.

”Oh fuck,” his body tenses against you, thrust losing rythym as you flutter and clench around his twitching cock. “Gonna cum, baby, yes…you feel so…fuck…”

You watch in awe as his face twists gorgeously, eyes rolling back before squeezing closed, lip curled into a delicious snarl - and then, with a drawn out groan of your name, he collapses against you, kissing gratitude and love against your throat until the tickle of his hair makes you giggle.

”Get off me,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulders tenderly as he rolls to his side, smiling prettily at you like a kid in a candy store.

”You have magic between those pretty thighs.” He sighs, smoothing your hair. “I’m gonna tear solos up about it. Write the dirtiest riffs and licks all about that perfect pussy.”

”You’re fucking disgusting,” you sigh back, attempting to chase down your breath, “and such a guy.”

He pulls you in close, tucking his body, slick and hot, into your own, “Shh, you love me.”

Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way, and maybe you don’t either, just yet…

…but maybe you will.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[soraaskiess]

If you’re a problem , I’m a disaster ( Dan Heng x reader)

Criticism is appreciated!

Spoiler alert!

credits to cafekitsune for the border!

Ever since the incident at the Luofu and the revealing of Dan Heng’s past , you’ve noticed that he looks guilty most of the time , during dinner , when you ask him a question , and others stare at him silently.

You’ve told him that if he needs someone to talk to you’re always available no matter what , and wouldn’t even mind if he woke you up at 2 AM in the morning because he wanted to recommend you some books or ramble on about some planets culture.

Yet.

He shakes his head like he’s a burden and just says .

“ I should be the one apologizing , for deceiving you all .”

( He doesn’t know how much you love him , if he asked , you would tear out the stars and hand them to him , even if your soul burned to ashes)

( He forgets how many times he deals with you , the trailblazer, and March’s bullshit, with a straight face and protects them all the time )

( He forgets how many times he fished the trailblazer out of trash cans , withstood all of your excited ramblings and you and March’s shenanigans, dragging him over to stores and making him take pictures .)

So when he shuffles out of the way when you walk by to the data bank you ask” What’s wrong?”

He just sighs and says” Are you truly not mad at me?I mean…. I’ve hidden this from you guys for so long…”

You just smile at him and say ,” Do you consider hiding personal information a bad thing?”

He stares at you , and you stare at him ,” Well…. “

You gently pinch his cheek and tell him ,” It wasn’t even your idea to reveal your past to us , yet it was revealed anyway , also it wasn’t even your sin that you had to repent for . If you’re a problem then me , March , and the Trailblazer are a disaster because we’ve gotten us into trouble most of the time , and most of the time you’re fishing us out of it or defending us.”

You smile at him softly , his face shocked and tell him,” You’re the guard of the express, nothing will ever change that. “

You gently press your forehead to his and cradle his cheeks as you watch him close his eyes and press his lips together.” You….”

“ Wherever you go , you’re not a burden , we’ll stand by your side and defend you to the end”

He smiles softly

He doesn’t doubt that,The Astral Express is his home now

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini!! Guess who’s back from hibernation!! :D

Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve interacted on your page, I got busy with stuff :(

Anyways, incubus Fyodor and priest reader! (Yes, ik old request, wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember.) punishing Fyodor for becoming cocky bc you were not paying attention to him, he even went as far as threatening to go get fucked by someone else! (He was bluffing. He’s too addicted to your cock at that point) now he has to learn the consequences of his actions when he’s forced to cockwarm you with his mouth while you read the bible, not even sparing him a glance! You even made sure to chastise him so he wouldn’t try anything. Every time he tries even moving at bit, you grab his hair tightly and push in more of your dick, making his eye tear up as he grips onto your thighs desperately. By the time you finish Luke’s gospel, Fyodor is looking up at you pleadingly with drool dripping down his chin for you to finally use him. <3

- 🍮 ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

Incubus Fyodor 3

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor

Warning: I’ll use dick - interpret it however you want, blow job, cockwarming, hierophilia - (incorrect) religious aspects, hair pulling, choking/ gagging, dacryphilia

🍮 anon!!! I missed you and your fyodor requests! I love that little bastard hehe. Also nope, I did not forget, cuz I freaking loved those ideas.

Normally you were nice enough to satisfy his needs, he needed it to survive after all. But he was an incubus, his sex drive was way higher than what a normal human can handle. One of the reasons why incubi’s never settle down for only one partner. In your case, you forced him to stay here with you, as if he was your personal pet. To be honest, he was just your plaything after all. The pretext of cleansing him of his sins? A dirty thing like him can’t be redeemed, you didn’t believe in such things anyway. Rather, accepting and repenting for one’s sins, and that is something he has to want for himself. The most you could do was prevent him from being even more sinful. That alone would be of great help, since otherwise he would seduce other people and make them succumb to Asmodeus too.

Today you were busy reading when he came up to you. You knew what he wanted, but this time you ignored it, there were other things to take care of. At first he just stood there, staring at you, wondering why you were so carried away. He took a few glances at your book, it was the bible in the Old Testament. No wonder you seemed busy, that one’s difficult to understand. This wont stop him from desiring you though, so he kneeled down and crawled under your table, slowly settling down between your legs.

“Y/nnn~ I’m so hungry, can we please do it?” Fyodor asked, looking up at you with those pretty scarlet eyes. “Not now, maybe later.” That’s weird, normally you always agreed. “Can’t you read that damn book later?” “This is not a ‘damn’ book, I have to concentrate so be quiet please.” You answered him, eyes never leaving the paper in front of you, scanning one line after another. He pouted, furrowing his brows as he thought about what to do. “But I’m really hungry.” The incubi complained again, though to no avail. How stubborn you were. Fine, if that’s what you want. “Never mind, I’ll find someone else then.”

Fyodor turned his head around, about to get up to leave when he felt your hand on his head. Before he got the chance to question you about it, you yanked on his hair and made him arch his back. Now you were towering over him, pulling his head back by his raven black locks. “MhmMM-ahHHNHgG..?!” He moaned out, unable to bite back a smirk. “I wont allow you to defile other innocent souls.” You told him harshly, without an ounce of concern. The gaze you bore was cold, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. It wasn’t due to fear though. His face was red, eyes foggy and expression melting, no matter what you’d do to him he’d take it with no hesitation.

“Haaah…” you sighed, feeling a little annoyed with him, then you commanded, “Go to the drawer there on the left and bring me the box in there.” He looked at you with confusion, but did it anyway. Getting up to get the box you wanted, then returning to his previous position. The demon watched with curiosity as you opened it. There were many sex toys in it, most of them have been used on him already. You reached for the things you needed, afterwards you put the rest away. Fyodor was still kneeling between your legs while you prepared everything, his body filled up with anticipation. He knows exactly what those toys do, god he wanted you to abuse him with them.

First thing you did was take the cockring and bring it to the base of his cock, it was to keep him obedient. You can’t have him squirting around his filthy essence. He squirmed when you grabbed him by the shaft as you used it on him, it looked so romantic~ That was all it took to get him hard. Then you pulled on his hair again, making him face your abdomen and dick. “Keep it in your mouth, you can’t move until I’m done, understood?” Instead of making him cockwarm you with his hole, you wanted him to use his mouth. It’s because he talks too much, you couldn’t think when he keeps babbling nonsense.

Just as you guessed, he happily took all of you inside his throat, gagging a little at the length. Forget about talking, he can barely breath with how deep it was in his throat. A bulge could be seen on his neck, right there where his Adam’s apple is. “Good boy.” You said, now stroking his head gently, as if he was really your pet. How he loved it, chocking on your dick like this, tears were on the verge of spilling. The reason why your fingers were still tangled with his locks was to prevent him from moving, since this was a punishment. That’s why every time he bobbed his head, intentionally or not, you’d force his face down further, until his nose hit your pelvis. Poor boy gagged and choked so prettily whenever you’d die that, letting out sweet moans akin to an angels singing,“guUHH..! Uh-hm,,.mHMmnGH..”

At first he was pretty enthusiastic about it, after ten minutes he got bored and needy. This only continued to the point he started crying. He was so desperate for any friction he could get, since he couldn’t even touch himself. Well, he could, but it’s not like he can cum anyways. Drool was running down his chin while tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving behind a shiny trail. His hands were bawled into fists while his tail wagged around like crazy. The look he had in his eyes were so hot, looking up at you all submissive while his pupils turned into hearts. Internally, fyodor was begging for you to finally pay attention to him, or finish reading that book soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

This was pure torture, was what he thought after not 30 minutes, but an entire hour passed. His head felt light, and his body twitched everywhere. Just a single touch from you would cause him to yelp that’s how sensitive he became. Quiet sobs could be heard from him while melting expression plagued his features. You weren’t exactly done yet with your reading, but seeing how pitiful he looked, you just had to help him. Putting the bible aside and caressing his ruined face, “you’ve been pretty good for the past hour, want to have your meal now?” As soon as he heard that he started choking on it again, the surprise and excitement caused him to inhale too fast. Only difference was, this time you let him pull his head back. “AhHh..! Cough- uh-urGHh..ahh, ye-yes!! I want it, p- guUHH.. pleaseee..” Suddenly he started sobbing intensely again, he also stuck his tongue out after pleading with you so obediently. Right, such a good boy, it is time for him to get his blessing.

[saschuv]

Thinking about how sad the end to Sasuke’s story is and how his grief and anger is minimised.

Rewatching parts of Naruto and seeing Naruto declaring to sasuke to put all of his hatred onto him and that he’s the only one that can take it is actually so strange. Don’t get me wrong this isn’t hate for his character (okay maybe mild hate because he does do a lot wrong, but so do most Naruto characters and I’m not here to get into that rn). It’s just I find it kind of off… (I know people use this moment as a great sns scene and I have no hate against that ship! This is nothing to do with sns) Sasuke’s grief for his clan and deep seated anger at the village and world is beyond valid. Naruto’s declaration feels slightly entitled? I understand they were friends for a bit and went through a lot together during the short time they were a team and how sasuke is one of Naruto’s first proper connections so it’s all very important to him and so on. It’s just… this isn’t about him? He’s got nothing to do with this? I know it’s about trying to “help” sasuke who is self destructing to get revenge and justice. I’ve spoken before how this fandom compares characters’ traumas a lot and how that’s odd, including how Naruto doesn’t compare to sasuke - both had truly dreadful childhoods, I just think they’re two different traumas and whilst both lonely, are lonely in different ways and for different reasons. And also sasuke is so much more than just lonely. Naruto doesn’t understand Sasuke’s trauma and doesn’t understand his anger. The whole of team 7 disregarded his grief and trauma. At the end of the show Naruto fails to give the Uchiha any justice as hokage and sasuke is manipulated into believing he needs to “repent” and to protect the village. It’s such a sad story. I could say a lot more and this isn’t well articulated at all but anyways… if people disagree or have another interpretation I’d love to hear!

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, the IT Guy has like…an entire rant about why he hates the Live Laugh Love signs. The one and only time I listened to it in its entirety, I clocked him at 17 minutes and 42 seconds.

I get it, they are legit stupid and basic and ultimately silly.

I also have really pretty L’s when I write in cursive. And he leaves his white board (meaning his entire office) unattended A LOT.

Anyway, after my glaringly obvious attack, I popped my head into his office and gave him my infamous “I’m waiting for your reaction to the prank I pulled” smile. It went like this…

IT Guy: Get. Out. *points dramatically*

Me: *cackles and runs away*

And then a few hours later, I had a legitimate actual work thing to tell him, so I just went in and told him the thing he needed to know and…

IT Guy: *real life thumbs up with an angry face*

Me: *fighting back a grin and not even a little bit repentant* Still mad at me?

IT Guy: YES. STOP LEAVING THAT BASIC WHITE BITCH SHIT ALL OVER MY OFFICE. I WILL SHATTER THAT THING!

Me: *you know that sort of snorting noise you make when you realize you’ve gone to far with a prank but it’s still really really funny? Like, you’re actually sorry about how they feel but at the same time you got the reaction you wanted and you’re trying really hard to not cackle? Yeah. Anyway, I ran away to fight/prank another day…*

So now I’m going to just leave him Red Bull on his desk for a few days (he has seemed legit sad for the last few days so he probably also needs social interaction/environment enrichment, might drag him outside for ten whole minutes) but we’ll see what happens.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body        love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

[causeimcrayzeebee]

MAJOR DRDT CHP 2 EP 16 SPOILERS

hey guys what the FUCK JUST HAPPENED. holy SHIT. never ask a gay person what happened October 5th 2024.

first can i say that the execution was phenomenal. i miss ace SO MUCH already but goodness the ending hurt. i had a feeling he’d die of fear once the execution started but that did NOT make it any easier to watch. holy shit.

i love how much self reflection happened. Ace, after all this time of being unable to repent for the harm he caused, instilled that motivation to be better into Arturo to save Levi’s life. from being called a coward by teruko to calling someone else on their cowardlyness was honestly kind of cathartic to see. ngl im excited to see what’s ahead for arturo after this!!

despite Teruko’s whole speech about how she won’t die, Levi jumped in to save her. he says he doesn’t understand human empathy but this was pretty damn close. even tho she assured everyone she’d be fine, Levi tried to save her anyways, but again it could just be driven by his need to do what he thinks a good person would do. praying he survives cause holy shit. him saying that he doesn’t understand Ace and Ace trying to push him away even more really stung….

MonoTV’s reset actually caught me so off guard. i kinda love it tho, it really displays the tone shift. ofc this killing game has been fucked up from the start, but it’s gotten even darker now as the main source of humor as well as comical incompetence is no longer who we knew it as. very likely that monotv won’t have another slip up like losing who’s motive is who’s again next chapter.

terukos development…. holy shit. I can’t stop saying holy shit bc tbh all of these are my thoughts immediately after finishing it and im still recovering from shock so take these with a grain of salt. i absolutely love how her arc has gone. as many have said previously, Ace is an example to Teruko what the isolation she forced herself through can do to people. Ace is the tragedy that could befall her as well. not to make things about percy jackson, but it’s very akin to the luke and percy foils (ik it’s not the same thing really I just wanted to mention their character foils) Arei is one side of the coin, and Ace, and Teruko if she kept going how she was before this trial, are the other. Arei was able to own up to her mistakes, and the others weren’t.

There’s also something that really displays their similarities when Teruko has to stay behind to cry because she’s too cowardly to face the group this way. Might just be because of timing but yk just a thought. Teruko was essentially admitting of guilt for Xander’s death and missing him, as well as Min. It really is easier to pretend as if everything is out of your control, even when you could have done something. Teruko has to learn about what’s beyond her dichotomy of blame and fate.

okay guys. let’s get this out of the way. um. this sprite is NOT helping you beat the mastermind allegations Whit. I actually jumped out of my seat seeing this sprite, it was actually quite horrifying to witness this. in response to Min’s execution, Whit had hardly much of a reaction, which has been a bit suspicious but likely has to do with how he grieves considering his mother. This tho…. i can’t tell if it makes him more or less suspicious (genuinely if anyone wants to talk about things that either prove or disprove Whit mastermind theories pls go ahead im so interested in what people think cause im at a loss). but like…. why is his hand behind him. what is he doing.

genuinely so wild how this whole time, Whit has only show a significant amount of care for Charles. yea i love charwhit they gay as hell, but even so, this specific focus that Whit has when it comes to Charles is something that, if Whit really is the mastermind or even just a traitor, it could be reaaaallllyyy bad news for Charles. I would not be surprised if he was trying to get close to Charles to make it hurt as much as possible when he revealed himself to be the mastermind or something of that nature. Or it could just be him having grown an attachment to Charles in some way (again pls lmk what you think about whit!!!) We’re not getting the happy love story we want but what did we expect when it’s a fanganronpa.

so yeah those are my thoughts on the ending of chapter 2! I planned to do a quick funny post and yet here i am writing analysis for half an hour. goodness. anyways to make up for funny post, i saw this part of Ace’s execution and my first thought was bungo stray dogs reference (crowd starts booing).

[dittanyinbloom]

Baby Fever

Ominis Gaunt x Fem!MC. 11 years after the events of fifth year. Could been seen as a final part to Note Taking. But trilogy is so sweet I didn’t want to include smut.

Summary: Anne is struggling after the birth of her child, and Sebastian has too many kids of his own to give Anne the proper care she needs. Sebastian calls on you for help, but your husband Ominis insists on coming along despite his affinity for children. 13.3k long so grab some tea besties.

Warnings: 9.5k of fluff and angst and Ominis healing from childhood trauma and then about 3.5k of smut. Breeding kink but like- it’s sweet I swear. Maybe a bit of cockwarming thrown in there (Sorry, Jesus. I’ll repent later). Minors DNI!

.🍼🌿🍼

Y/N,

I hate to do this while business is booming for you, or should I say blooming? Sorry. I need a bit of humor whenever I can get it. Anne is not doing well since having the baby. She’s been on bed rest and she’s a complete mess. I can imagine you ridiculing me, but I am allowed to say such things. She is my twin after all.

Her husband still isn’t back from that work trip. My wife has been asking around the Ministry for me, but no one knows anything. He wouldn’t have missed the birth of their daughter. And she’s four days old now, the cutest thing, by the way. She's starting to look just like Anne’s baby photos.

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Sorry if this letter is scattered. I’ve got all four of my kids here with me. Their mother has to work while I’m taking off time to look after Anne. Obviously, someone has to earn money for the abundance of school robes we’ll be paying for in the very near future. They can’t be home alone with the youngest being only one. He’s walking now! Have I told you yet? Well, standing and wobbling. He’s getting there. Gonna be the next Slytherin Quidditch Captain in no time.

All this is to say, I need some help here with Anne. Helping her and taking care of her newborn is a two-person job. My kids make it a three-person job. I’m drowning a bit in diapers and screams and tears. Think everyone here has had a tantrum today alone, including me.

Needing your help desperately, my dear sister-in-law of mine. Don’t let Ominis roll his eyes when you read him that bit. He is my brother, blood be damned.

Sincerely,

Your Most Handsome Brother-in-law

S.S.

P!S! Please for the love of Merlin, bring washcloths. Between everything I’m trying to keep up with laundry and it’s simply impossible.

You glanced over the top of the letter once you were done reading it aloud. Contrary to Sebastian’s predictions, Ominis was not rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked forlorn and pale. Not only was he worried about Anne’s safety considering her poor condition after having the child, but he was no doubt worrying about Anne’s husband who was actually quite a lovely bloke. He fit in just right with Anne and Sebastian, and he very quickly grew on Ominis despite his attempts to keep the jokester at bay. In his eyes, Ominis had enough of that energy with Sebastian and Anne, who had been handling her curse greatly in the last few years and was back to her wild self, until the pregnancy complications that is.

What Ominis refused to acknowledge was that Anne’s husband didn’t have the mischief or malice of Sebastian and Anne. He was just a golden, loveable, arguably dopey guy. His love for Anne was so pure. He bawled multiple times on their wedding day. Being gone for so long during the latter days of Anne’s pregnancy was unlike him. And to miss the birth of his firstborn child, and likely their only considering the complications, was beyond excusable. Not that he would even try to excuse it because he was truly that honest of a man!

And then there was Anne, the most heartbreaking part of the letter. The doctors had her on bed rest seemingly indefinitely. She spent the last two months of her pregnancy in that dreary bedroom. When her husband was forced onto his work trip a week and a half ago, you closed up your magical plant shop and stayed by her side until the baby was born. A girl. She was born healthy with the cutest button nose. You held her for hours after she was born while the healers and Sebastian all huddled around Anne in worry.

Once Anne was safe and resting, Sebastian had tiredly collapsed on the couch next to you. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since you were teens still in school, causing mayhem that affected yourselves more than others. His wife had been watching over all four of their kids all day so that Sebastian could spend that moment with his twin. You put the baby girl in her uncle’s arms and the two fell right asleep just like that.

It had only been a few days, but you were wanting so desperately to get back to the little girl. And while Sebastian’s kids were a handful, to say the very least, you wanted to see them as well. You had done your fair share of babysitting those mongrels, so they were quite attached to you. Their obsession with you and inclination to always come visit and run up and down the hall of your home was actually welcomed, as crazy as that sounded.

By the time you realized you loved children and wanted some of your own, you were already deeply devoted to Ominis. Because of his past, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having children of his own. That was fine. Sebastian seemed set on having plenty for everyone.

Ominis stood from his velvet armchair and announced, “I’ll grab the washcloths.”

“Ominis, you do not have to go.”

He had stopped in the middle of the hall to ponder it. His head shook in disapproval. “I’m going to look after Anne. You’ll look after the baby. Sebastian will pack up the Quidditch team and head home so that Anne can rest in a peaceful house. Does that sound like a plan?”

You met him in the hallway and took his hands in yours. Butterfly-soft kisses were left on his knuckles. You spoke firmly and slowly to make your point. “You do not have to go with me to Anne’s. I can take care of both. It’s okay.”

“Don’t insult me,” Ominis insisted with a harsh whisper. “I won’t faint at the sight of a child, and if Anne needs me, I will be by her side. She is my sister.”

You chuckle, lightening the room for a moment, “Oh, so Anne is your sister, but you can’t admit Sebastian is your brother.”

“That’s because Anne is my sister through and through, but Sebastian can’t just claim such a title just because his kids call you Auntie. Such a thing has to be earned! Bestowed upon!”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled and smoothed his shirt across his shoulders to calm him. “You know he only says it at this point because it gets a rise out of you. And perhaps that’s why I bring it up too. You’re cute when you go red.”

“Oh, well thank you for adding to the stress,” Ominis shortly huffed in annoyance then turned to the bathroom to grab your house’s supply of washcloths.

Usually, he went along with your playful tones unless he was really out of sorts. You frown and follow right at his heels into the bathroom. “Sweetheart, we are all stressed. I’m sorry to make light of things in such dark times, but you always say you enjoy my light. I’m only trying to help you feel better.”

“I know. But right now-“ Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I just be alone for a moment? Why don’t you go pack up those strawberries for Sebastian’s kids? You know we won’t finish them before they go bad if they stay in our kitchen.”

With your head hung low, you trudged to the kitchen and began to ransack your cupboards for potential meals. If things were really as bad as Sebastian made them seem, he likely didn’t have time to cook properly for the kids, Anne, and even himself. A few sandwiches and the berries would make a healthy enough lunch. If Ominis was truly planning to go with you, Sebastian really could head home for a break like Ominis suggested. Sebastian could no doubt figure out dinner for his kids at his own home with the stress of Anne and the newborn off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” that was Ominis leaning against the doorframe to your tiny kitchen. He looked exhausted as though he fought some great battle during his moments of solitude in the bathroom. He hated this side of himself, the one that could be so cruel. With his history and his trauma from his childhood, you didn’t ever fault him for being triggered.

The entire friend group was blissful until Sebastian started having kids with his wife, which was only a year or two into having your adult jobs after graduating from Hogwarts. Ominis had gotten used to them, slightly, but now with Anne having a child, he felt like he couldn’t turn in any direction without feeling an immense guilt.

“That was hardly snapping,” you kept up your light tone. It wasn’t an act. You really weren’t fazed by his behavior. These were stressful times for everyone. “You’ve bitten me before, so I think I got off a bit lucky this time.”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. After all these years, you could still fluster him. It was actually one of your favorite pastimes. How much teasing could Ominis handle? You were always itching to find out.

“That- that was one time. And you- you said you liked it,” Ominis straightened from his lean against the doorframe as he stammered on, “And that was different.”

“I did like it,” you reassured him. Memories of that night fluttered back. The sting in your shoulder. The cold from the blood dripping down. Tasting metallic on his lips afterward… “Maybe if you would bite me more, I wouldn’t have to keep pressing your buttons to see which one ignites that side of you.”

Ominis rubbed his face as though he was tired of your antics, but his cheeks turning a deeper shade, nearly all red now, told you all you needed to know. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Didn’t I just admit to doing it on purpose?”

Ominis could hear the knife come out into the cutting board. He tilted his head. “What have you been up to in here? Thought you were going to grab the strawberries.”

“Sandwiches for everyone. Doubt Sebastian has had time to make lunch yet. I’d rather make them here than amid whatever chaos is happening there.”

Then Ominis was behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to map out where you were. It glided down to the small of your back and then snakes around the front, his other joining as his body pressed into yours from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder. His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, “Forgive me for taking my stress out on you?”

“You hardly said anything, Ominis. There is nothing to forgive.”

His lips pressed right at the back of your jaw where it met your ear. “Maybe I’m asking in advance for tonight.” Then his mouth opened. His teeth grazed your skin so lightly you thought you imagined it. And then, rather evilly in your opinion, Ominis stepped back and released his hold on you. “Hurry up with those sandwiches. I’m going to handle a few things before the trip, but I’ll be waiting by the fireplace to floo by the time you are done in here.”

Sure enough, your husband was waiting for you patiently at your fireplace after you finished packaging up the lunches. He held out a hand to steady you as you stepped up on the brick, hardly a necessary gesture, but he was being extra sweet with you while he still could.

“I put a closed sign out on the shop,” he sounded almost formal about it.

“Thank you,” you breathed out in gratitude, “I completely forgot.”

“That Alihotsy is getting a bit big for the nursery. It’s extending across the walkway. Startled me for a second.”

“Sorry. Yes. That fellow from Honeydukes is meant to come by sometime this week for it. I’ll have to write him to explain that we are looking after Anne. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if we dropped it by late at night on his doorstep?”

“Maybe tomorrow night. We’ll be too tired after this.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You always talk me into being lazy with you. Promise you won’t talk me out of it tomorrow too?”

“I would like its leaves out of the walking path, so I promise, tomorrow night we can take it to him. I won’t drag you to bed too early.”

“But I do look forward to ending up in bed with you after.” And with that, you threw down the floo power and were transported to Anne’s bungalow in Feldcroft. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the noise. There was a baby crying, kids screaming, and footsteps pounding around on the hardwood floor.

“I said to get that thing out of here!” That was Sebastian, sounding exasperated.

“I can’t catch it!” His oldest child, who was seven going into eight now, whined back.

“Then chase it out the door! It can’t be in here. It- oh! Y/N. Thank Merlin you’re here. Popped in at an awful time. Sorry for the mess.” Sebastian, while cradling his youngest in his arms, a baby who was about a year old now, kicked a few toys out of the way so you could step off the edge of the fireplace.

“Auntie Y/N!” Three children trapped you with hugs from all around. Then behind you, Ominis popped up in the fireplace and the three were rushing to embrace him as well.

You chuckled and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to ask, “Seb, why is there a chicken on the couch.”

“It’s on the-?” Sebastian turned and started to wave the brown chicken off of his sister’s couch. “Shoo! Shoo! You are lucky I haven’t cooked you yet!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your wand. “Levioso. Accio.” The brown chicken squirmed in your arm, but you held it at your hip and then turned to the three kids with an eyebrow raised. “Who brought a chicken in the house while Auntie Anne isn’t feeling well?”

None of the kids said a word, but the two oldest shoved each other while they all stared at the floor in shame. You sighed and said, “If you go and collect all the toys in the house and put them in the diaper bag, I will give you the surprise I brought.”

The kids lit up. Their guilt long forgotten.

“A surprise?!”

“What is it?”

“Ah, ah, ah. Pick up your toys first.” Then the three of them were off collecting the messing they made and putting it in their youngest sibling’s enchanted diaper bag.

You put the chicken in the backyard and came back to see Sebastian and Ominis having a chat on the couch while the baby while trying to pull itself up on the side to join in. Ominis flinched when the baby grabbed his pant leg. You were quick to dive down and pick the little one up, grunting as you did so.

“My oh my, you have gotten big! What are they feeding you? Rocks?”

“That one’s gonna win the World Cup. I just know it. Gonna be the best Beater there is.” Sebastian played with the baby’s chunky ankles while you held it. It cooed back at him as if it understood and agreed.

You laughed and moved the baby to your hip to then use your free hand to touch Ominis’s shoulder. “You wanna go check on Anne while we set up the picnic for the kids outside?”

Ominis nodded and stood up to leave. He seemed thankful to have an excuse not to join the chaotic lunch plans.

Sebastian smiled wide. “Am I hearing this right? You brought lunch?”

“Just some sandwiches and strawberries. Figured you hadn’t had the time.”

With an exasperated sigh, Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “You thought right. It’s been… a lot. The baby is sleeping now, I mean, the other baby, the newborn, Anne’s baby.” Sebastian paused for a second then whispered, “That’s still so crazy for me to say. I’m so happy for her.”

“You and your cousin are going to be the best of friends!” You told the one-year-old on your hip. So close in age. How fun! They’ll only be a year apart at Hogwarts. Bet they’ll get into even more trouble than we did.”

Sebastian covered his face and groaned. “Merlin, don’t say that. They already make me crazy as it is. Can’t imagine how I’d handle them being as wild as us.”

“Sebastian, there was a chicken on the couch when I got here. You may want to mentally prepare yourself for all sorts of Hogwarts shenanigans.”

Meanwhile, Ominis was knocking on Anne’s bedroom door and waiting to hear her voice before letting himself in. Sebastian’s kids were still being rather loud, but the decibel levels had greatly depleted. Ominis shut the door gently, but firmly, hoping to trap out any further noise. Their little feet could still be heard scampering about the echoey wooden floors as they searched for their abundance of toys to put away.

“Thought you two must have arrived,” Anne sounded exhausted. Ominis’s heart immediately ripped in two. He hadn’t heard her voice so raspy since they were teens. Anne had mostly healed from her curse. At around the ten-year mark, she decided she wanted to try for a child. She and her husband were happy and head over heels in love. They just wanted one child to share the love with. The risk was great with Anne’s past, but she didn’t want some retched curse to stop her from living her life the way she dreamed.

“And it was a good thing we did. Sebastian’s kids were terrorizing your home.”

Anne laughed at that, though it was quiet and airy. “They are just playing, Ominis. That’s why kids do. Not a dull day around here lately, that’s for sure.”

“Still, I’m sure you could rest better if it was quiet.” Ominis took a step to the right, meaning to meet her at her bedside.

“Wait-,” Anne croaked out, causing Ominis to freeze. “The bassinet is on this side. Come around to the other.”

Oh, right. Ominis swallowed thickly. He had forgotten about Anne’s baby for a moment. The room was so peaceful. It was hard to believe a child was in here with them. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Min,” Anne reassured as Ominis walked around to the other side of the bed. “Just didn’t want to bump into it and wake her. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Which was Anne’s way of gently warning him that the baby was probably going to cry for food soon that way he didn’t panic when he heard it.

Ominis cautiously sat on the side of Anne’s bed and asked, “Anything I can get for you? I’m here to look out for you, and Y/N is going to look out for the baby once she feeds Sebastian and the kids and sends them home.”

“Honestly, I was dying of boredom before you came in. Just you being here is enough.” Anne placed her hand over Ominis’s and squeezed. “And how is my Y/N doing? How’s the shop coming along?”

There was a thankful sigh of relief from Ominis’s lips at the subject change. He could talk about you and the shop for hours. “We’re loving it. She put me to work though with all the upkeep. I’m regretting cutting back my hours at the Ministry. At least they didn’t make me sweep.”

Anne’s soft chuckle sounded much closer to her normal self this time. Ominis let some of the tension in his shoulders release from knowing Anne wasn’t feeling too much pain at the moment.

“You know, they would take you back full-time in a heartbeat if you offered.”

“No, no,” Ominis quickly backtracked with a smile, “No, trust me, being at the shop is a walk in the park in comparison to the Ministry’s paperwork. The half of my week there is like a vacation. Besides, it’s right next door to the house. No travel sickness. And the greenhouse smells lovely. Much better to work in than those dingy offices.”

“Hey now, don’t talk bad on those dingy offices. I can’t wait to get back to them in a few weeks. I’ve already planned on how to reorganize mine. Bit of spring cleaning.”

Whatever was going on with Anne, Ominis had assumed it was to do with the curse. Hearing her so confidently say she would be back to work soon made Ominis tilt his head in confusion. Was she being her stubborn self, or were things not as bad as Sebastian’s letter made it seem. It was always hard to tell with the twins. Anne played everything off as fine, but Sebastian acted like Anne’s paper cuts were life-threatening.

“Planning to get back there so soon? Well, don’t strain yourself. The office will still be just as meek and dusty no matter how long you wait.”

“Suppose so. Might be nice to spend some extra time just with her.” Ominis couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew Anne was referring to the baby in the bassinet on the other side of the bed.

There was a soft knock on the door, and with Anne’s approval, you cracked the door open just enough to peek your head in. “Up for a few visitors? The kids want to say goodbye one by one. I’m including Sebastian in that category too, of course.”

“Hey!” Could slightly be heard from the hallway.

Then, one at a time, you allowed the kids to give their Auntie Anne a kiss goodbye. Lastly, Sebastian went in with his youngest in his arms. Anne chuckled at the red stains on the baby’s hands and shirt from the strawberries. She could picture how it probably mashed the berry in its hand before shoving it in its mouth and likely missing its mouth entirely so that the strawberry ended up mostly on the ground. Her heart tinged a bit. She wished she could have joined them for lunch and not been forced to stay in her tiny bedroom.

“Get some rest,” Sebastian mumbled as he kissed her forehead.

“You too,” Anne replied. “Thank you for looking out for me these past couple of days, but go home and relax. Ominis and Y/N will take good care of us here.”

Then Ominis felt a hand on his shoulder. By the way it lightly massaged him, he instantly knew it was his wife. She leaned in close to whisper to him, “I’m going to walk Seb and the kids home to make sure none of them wander off. They’re a bit ornery today. Will you be okay without me?”

A pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach. Ominis hated that he was the one you were worried about leaving while Anne was quite literally bedridden. It was embarrassing that you felt as though you needed to check in with him before taking a quick walk just a few houses down to Sebastian’s place. His…affinity to kids was bad, he knew that, he knew that you knew that and that’s why you were being overly protective. Still, it hurt his ego just a bit.

“Take your time. We’ll be okay here,” Ominis whispered back, trying his best not to sound short. If there was any uneasiness in his tone, he knew you would drop everything to comfort him. That couldn’t happen now. Sebastian might have needed your help walking the kids back, but Ominis knew that it was partially an excuse on your part to spend more time with them. He didn’t want to take that from you.

The baby, well, Anne’s baby was sleeping anyway. Sebastian’s was blowing raspberries while Anne was cooing a goodbye to it.

He waited until he heard the front door close to admit to Anne, “You asked how she’s doing… I don’t think she’s happy.”

“With the store?” There was a hint of terror in her voice as if Anne feared it was something worse.

After a moment of silence, Ominis shook his head no. “I can tell she wants more. She grew up in a big family and then Hogwarts was always just as loud and chaotic. At first, I think she appreciated the peace and quiet after we got our house, but lately… Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night and she’s gone. She goes and falls asleep by the gramophone in the living room as if she needs the noise for comfort.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder as Anne said, “Oh, Ominis…”

“I think she would be happier if she were with someone that could provide what she wanted, but she’d never admit that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I know you can’t see the way she looks at you, but you’re her world. Don’t ever even suggest such a thing to her. It would shatter her. She is happy with you, just you. We’ve talked about it before, she and I. She is content with being an aunt to Sebastian’s kids, and now my girl. Please don’t worry over this in the slightest.”

Anne’s comfort eased his pain, but the guilt of it all still weighed him down. They chatted for a while about Sebastian’s wife and her exciting job until you made it back to the house. You leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and listened to the two old friends talk for a while before interrupting, “Do you want to have a bath while I change your sheets for you, Anne?”

“Is that your way of saying I smell?”

“Your hair is a bit of a mess,” you joked as you walked up to her side of the bed and gently moved the bassinet so that you could help Anne up.

At the sound of shuffling and Anne wincing, Ominis offered, “Do you want me to-“

“It’s alright,” you said, suspiciously quick. “Us girls have got this. I’ll just set Anne up in the bath. Do you want to start removing the blankets?”

Ominis stood from the bed and started to remove the covers at your request, albeit a bit reluctantly due to his confusion and frustration. Why didn’t you let him carry Anne to the bathroom? It wasn’t like the intimacy mattered. He couldn’t see.

Wordlessly, he carried the laundry to the back porch and then felt through the linen closet for another set. The two of you met back in Anne’s room at the same time. You kissed his cheek and took the fitted sheet from him to start unfolding it. That was the only covering you managed to get on before the baby stirred in the bassinet. It started to cry out, loud and demanding. Ominis flinched and clutched the blanket he was holding while you scooped the baby up in your arms.

“Oh, that sounds like a hungry cry,” Your voice was soft and unfazed by the cries. “Come on. To the kitchen, we go. I’m going to show your Uncle Omi how to make a bottle for you.”

Ominis tensed at that. “Why? I thought we agreed that I take care of Anne and you take care of…her.”

“If we really are going to be here the next few days helping out, you might as well learn.” You didn’t say anything more as you headed to the kitchen. It was up to Ominis whether or not he followed.

And follow he did with a heavy sigh. Anne’s kitchen was far more spacious than your own. He still hadn’t mapped out where everything was since it all seemed to spread apart. There was even room under the south-facing window for a breakfast nook area that had the perfect view of Feldcroft. You stared out at it wistfully. Down the way a bit, you could make out Sebastian’s two oldest digging away in their front yard. They had told you on the walk back that they had been trying to dig to the center of the earth. You had laughed and told them they would need a pretty long ladder, but you didn’t discourage their determination.

“Do you want to hold her while I grab the-“

“Just tell me where it is,” Ominis insisted, sounding a bit exasperated. His heated tone made you giggle. When you first met him, he used to always be on edge like this. There was a cold exterior about him that was snappy and sarcastic. In his defense, Sebastian was putting him through a lot at the time with his unforgiving plight to find a cure for Anne. But you didn’t mind it then just like you didn’t mind it now. Ominis was complicated, and that’s what drew you in.

“A step forward and to your left. Should be a cylinder tin on the second shelf of the cupboard.” Your direction was easy to understand and deeply appreciated.

Sometimes at work with the Ministry, Ominis would ask something like, “Which one?” Only for his coworker to inevitably reply something stupid like, “The green one.” He never had to prod you for more information. If only he could bring you everywhere to direct him like this. Though, maybe not while you held a crying baby in your arms.

“I’m putting an empty bottle right beside the tin here. But first, we need to set up the kettle.”

“Are we making tea for Anne?” This he was familiar with even in Anne’s kitchen. Ominis made quick work of taking the kettle from the stove and filling it in the sink.

“Just heating up the water a bit. Not too hot. I’ll show you how to check the temperature after we’re done. While that’s heating, you can measure the power. There should already be a scooper in the tin. Two scoops should be plenty. She’s still so tiny.” You took a moment to admire the baby girl in your arms. She really was the spitting image of Anne.

While you rocked her to soothe her cries, Ominis poured two scoops of the formula into the bottle and tried not to grimace at the sour smell of it. Now he understood why babies smelled the way they did. It was a mix of this awful powdered milk and the starchiness of baby powder. Very off-putting and unpleasant.

“Water should be warm enough now. I’ll tell you when to stop pouring. Go slow,” you directed. You stopped him just at just a quarter full and reached to touch the bottle to feel how hot the water was. “Just a splash of cold water and that should be perfect.” Ominis brought the bottle to the sink and literally just let the smallest splash into it. You giggled and prompted, “Okay, maybe two splashes.”

Next, you handed him a clean top for the bottle which he took a moment to stir on straight then asked, “Are we done here?” in a very bored tone.

You smiled as you shook your head and clicked your tongue. “Always so impatient, my love. The powder needs to be mixed in. You’ll have to shake the bottle and-“ Ominis started shaking the bottle immediately, wanting to get this over with. Formula sprayed out of the nipple and got on the kitchen floor, Ominis’s hair, and your face. He froze, realizing his mistake.

Your laughter was so intense that you doubled over, clutching the baby to your chest so that you wouldn’t drop her during your fit. Ominis was blushing, but the sound of your laughter made him smile sheepishly.

“I am an idiot,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, yes your are. You have to cover the tip of the nipple.”

“Excuse me?” Ominis sounded almost offended. You laughed harder, not being able to take much more of this.

“That’s what the rubber part of the top of the bottle is called! It’s not like I came up with it!” After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you reached over and placed Ominis’s finger over the tip of the bottle. “Okay, now you can shake it without making it rain indoors.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled shyly.

“I love you,” you answered.

Once the formula was mixed up, it was time to test the temperature. “This part is simple. Hold out your wrist,” you told him. When he did, you guided his hand that was holding the bottle to dab the slightest bit of formula on his inner wrist. “Do you feel that?”

A flash of uncertainty washed over his features. “Yes, but how do I know if it’s right?”

You held out your wrist, lighting bumping it to his so he knew where you were. “Let me feel and I’ll tell you.”

The fingers of his free hand drifted across the palm of your open one, acting as if he wasn’t sure where your wrist was. You had a smug smile knowing it was all for show. You had made your movements very clear. He only wanted to touch your hand, but you weren’t about to call him out on that. The bottle dipped to let a drip fall on your wrist. It was like warm. Not too cold that the powder didn’t mix in properly, and not too hot that it would hurt the baby.

“This is perfect. You want to test it on your wrist again so you can remember this temperature for next time?”

He snorted and insisted there wouldn’t be a next time, but he tested the formula on his wrist once more and looked rather deep in thought as if trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed his cheek and thanked him while taking the bottle. A weight lifted off Ominis’s shoulders when the baby stopped crying in your arms. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Glad that’s over.”

“Well, get used to it because it’ll probably happen every four hours or so.”

That statement did not spark joy for Ominis, but you hadn’t been trying to. It was the truth. This was the reality of helping out Anne right now: a crying newborn.

“Let’s go check on Anne in the bath.” Now that was a statement Ominis didn’t mind. You followed him down the hallway and stood at his side while he knocked on the bathroom door.

“How are you doing, Annie?” He asked in a soft tone.

“Just fine, Min! I’ll be getting out soon. How’s the baby?”

“Ominis made her a bottle!” You cut in proudly.

Anne paused a moment then asked, “‘S it poisoned?”

Ominis rolled his eyes while you responded, “No! I watched him like a hawk. I promise! He did great!”

Anne’s laughter echoed in the bathroom. “Well, then thank you, Ominis!”

In the living room, you nestled in on the couch, using the armrest to support your elbow. Holding the baby in the kitchen that whole time had made you ache. She wasn’t heavy either, maybe six pounds at the most. You couldn’t fathom how Sebastian held his youngest all day. That baby was huge!

“Anything I can get you?” Ominis was hovering over you from behind the couch. His hand was resting on the back of it and his fingers were reaching up to brush your shoulder. It was clear he wanted to touch you, but you were holding a baby and that terrified him.

“Maybe turn on a bit of music? There’s a very fancy-looking phonograph sitting in the far corner on your left. It’s begging to be played.”

Your wish seemed to be his command. Ominis brought out his wand and used his sensing charm before pointing it precisely at the phonograph. The needle reset itself on the record and began to play a beautiful sonata. It started out with a feathery light piano that was quickly joined by a set of strings. You weren’t well versed enough in muggle music to know if it was a violin or cello, but its tender tones took the lead of the song while the piano supported the beat and background. There was just a hint of a wind instrument harmonizing with the main melody of the strings. It wasn’t prominent enough to tell if it was a flute, or perhaps a panpipe…

“Come sit by me,” you requested dreamily.

With the music and the airy sound of your voice, Ominis was lost in the moment. He kissed the top of your head then walked around the front of the couch to be next to you. The string instrument started to swell. His hand rested on your knee as he sat down and immediately inched higher and higher until his forearm bumped your elbow and he briefly wondered why your elbow was sticking out like that.

Reality came hurtling back like a bludger. His hand jolted off you as if your skin burned him. He had forgotten about the baby being fed in your arms.

Ominis hoped you hadn’t even noticed his slip up, that you were too lost in feeding the child. With the way you were talking to it, Ominis felt as though he was in the clear. You were commenting on how the baby’s hand was curling around your ring finger. It seemed to like the smooth texture of your wedding band.

“You trying to steal my ring, little one? Four days old and your mommy has already trained you to be her little niffler? Well, I’m very sorry. You can’t have my wedding ring. I love it too much. You can have your own if you choose to get married one day.”

“Anna and Sebastian are probably competing to see who can have the most mischievous child,” Ominis said mostly to himself since he assumed you were lost in your own little world.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” you joked in return. “And you can put your hand on my thigh if you would like. It is not going to offend the baby.”

Sometimes he hated how in tune you were with him. Ominis put a hand back just below your knee and squeezed to show his annoyance with you, a move he often did to fluster you and keep your teasing mouth quiet.

The move was not working out in his favor while you were holding the baby, however. You gossiped to her, “Oh, Uncle Ominis is mad at me for some reason. I’m in such big trouble. He’s got the grumpy pout. I think he’s feeling a bit bashful that I called him out, what do you think?”

A loud thud sounded from the bathroom. Ominis was standing in a flash. You dropped the bottle beside you on the couch to grab him by the shirt, insisting, “You take the baby! I’ll go get her!”

A look of annoyance washed over Ominis's face and he defied your request, “Are you insane? Just let me-“

“She’s going to want it to be me, not you.”

For the first time since your school days, he bitterly reminded you, “I’m blind! It’s not like I’ll see anything!”

You were standing now, matching his volume. “She’ll just want a woman there that understands-“

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have! She’s a sister to me, I understand her perfectly! She-“

“She’s still bleeding,” you whispered through your teeth, “You know, down there. That’s why she’s been on bed rest. They had to give her muggle stitches.”

Ominis paled and swallowed quickly. He had assumed Anne was hurting from the curse. The last thing on his mind was average birthing complications. “Oh.”

“Sit down on the couch and put your elbow on the armrest,” you insisted in a very angry tone that you only ever used on Sebastian when he was stepping out of line, which was very, very rare these days. Hearing you so angry sent a shiver down Ominis’s spine. He sat, but panic was bubbling to his surface when he realized why you told him to put his elbow on the armrest.

“My love, please, I’m sorry, I can’t- Don’t make me-“

“It’s a newborn, Ominis! She isn’t going to remember this moment! You can’t possibly do anything wrong. Just feed her the rest of the bottle!” Your screaming made Ominis snap his mouth shut.

You leaned down and put the baby, who was now crying from her bottle being ripped from her and all the commotion, into his arms with a gentleness that shocked Ominis. How you went from screaming at him to carefully making sure the baby’s head was supported on his arm just right, he would never know. The bottle was picked up from where it had rolled to the other side of the couch and put firmly in Ominis’s hand with a bit more fire to your placement this time around.

“Feed her. She can’t cry if there is a bottle in her mouth. Relax your shoulders. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

Then your footsteps were fading. Ominis couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking. The baby was still crying, and although the only other sound in the house was the soft piano and strings coming from the phonograph, Ominis was overwhelmed to the point of shock. The baby weighed in his arms, but not nearly as much as he expected it to. He had held Sebastian’s firstborn twice: once when it was a month old and then one other time when it had just started crawling. Sebastian’s baby was never as feather-light as the dainty little thing crying in his arms now. It didn’t even stretch across Ominis’s chest. Tiny little feet were kicking his right arm that had been white-knuckling the bottle. They were covered in fuzzy knit socks that felt soft and plush against his arm with each weak kick.

The baby seemed to kick some sense into Ominis because he realized it would stop crying if he would just hurry up and give it the bottle. At first, he tried placing it in the baby’s flailing hands, but it wouldn’t take it from him. Was holding a bottle not something babies could do for themselves? He was pretty sure Sebastian was able to hand his youngest a bottle and walk away. Why didn’t this one know what to do?!

Ominis was ready to give up, but he didn’t know how to move the baby properly or where to put it even if he had the nerve. The couch? Would it roll off? The floor? Surely that wasn’t appropriate.

“Fine! Fine,” Ominis grumbled. He set the bottle between his legs and then hesitantly touched the baby's chest and glided up to feel where its mouth was. The thing was so tiny, and even though Ominis was holding it, he still expected it to take longer to find its mouth. But before he could pull away, the baby sucked his pointer finger in and bit down. It might have not had any teeth, but its gums were still brutal!

“Ow!” Ominis hissed and yanked his finger away from the little gremlin. He shook his hand with a dramatic flair to lessen the hurt. The baby went right back to crying. “That was uncalled for.”

Finally, Ominis was able to get the bottle in the baby’s mouth. There was an annoying squeak from it sucking on the rubber, but other than that the living room had turned back to its peaceful state. The record on the phonograph was playing a more upbeat tune. All was well.

Meanwhile, you had sprinted into the bathroom panicked and breathing heavily. Anne was lying on her back near the sink, about a meter from the tub.

“Anne!” You gasped and hurried over to her.

“Oh, hey,” Anne laughed lightly, not acting injured in the slightest. “How was your domestic disagreement? I have never heard you two argue like that. It was quite entertaining.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Mostly just embarrassed. I slipped while I was brushing my teeth. Wasn’t even walking or anything, just tumbled over for no reason. Held onto the sink though, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“You need help up?”

“Yeah. My hip is pretty sore, as if it wasn’t bad enough down there already,” Anne always kept a light tone to not worry others. You understood the sentiment. She didn’t want to be treated like a child or hovered over. Sebastian used to do that to her constantly, he had gotten a lot calmer over the years, but Anne hadn’t learned to get rid of her coping mechanisms yet.

“Let me dry the floor then I’ll help you up. Looks like a hurricane happened in here. Were you playing with the bath bubbles?” You joked to put her at ease.

She sighed gratefully for your calm nature. “Maybe. It had been a while since I’ve had a bubble bath. Might have got a bit carried away.”

You dramatically dragged a towel along the floor at the edge of the tub and asked, “A bit?”

It took some patience, but you managed to get Anne to her bed. There was still only the fitted sheet in place, so you added the bedding around her and made a point to tuck her in so tight that she couldn’t even wiggle. She shoved your hands away, laughing at your antics. The two of you chatted for a bit about your new plant shop and whether or not you missed working at the Ministry.

In the living room, the light squeaking of the bottle stopped. Ominis frowned in confusion. He could feel that there was still a bit of liquid sloshing around in the glass. Would the baby start crying again? Why had it stopped eating? Fearing the worst, he set the bottle down on the couch beside him and then leaned his ear in close to make sure the baby was still breathing. He placed his hand over its chest to feel the rise and fall. The tip of his middle finger touched its chin and the bottom of his hand was over its stomach. How could something be so small?

The baby’s hands latched onto his, one grabbing his thumb and the other his pinky, holding Ominis against its chest. Ominis blushed at the contact. The hands were soft and oh, so tiny. It could hardly clasp his thumb properly. Its breathing started to slow. The record on the phonograph came to an end, leaving a soft scratching sound to fill the room.

“Alright then,” his voice was but a whisper so that he wouldn’t disrupt the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Having his hand cradled like that made his heart clench tightly and painfully. The baby’s little cotton clothes were slightly wet around its neck from the formula, but other than that, Ominis didn’t mind that his hand was trapped.

His own breathing started to slow for the first time since arriving at Anne’s place.

A few moments later, you had been sent by Anne to collect her child. She wanted to snuggle with the baby while they both had a nap. The fiasco in the bathroom had worn her out.

The last thing you expected to see was a soft smile on Ominis’s lips while he seemed to be resting. The baby was pulled in close to his chest and was clutching into Ominis’s hand. They both looked fast asleep. The sight filled you with warmth. Your eyes softened, and you nearly wanted to shed a tear. Instead of disrupting them right away, you turned off the phonograph that had been playing nothing and washed the unfinished bottle in the kitchen sink.

When it came time to finally collect the baby from Ominis, you felt slightly guilty for dragging it out for so long. He just looked so precious holding a child. It was doing things to you, making you yearn for things you had sworn off thinking about.

With the utmost care, you reached to scoop the baby out of Ominis’s arms. His left arm tightened around the child, drawing her closer to his chest.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

That was…odd. Was he talking in his sleep? You couldn’t recall Ominis ever doing such a thing.

“It’s just me, love. I’ve come to relieve you from your babysitting duties. Sorry it took me so long.”

You tried going in for the exchange again, but Ominis insisted, “Just another moment, please. Just one moment.” His voice was breaking. It was clear now he hadn’t been sleeping at all to begin with because a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. It had been quite some time since you had seen Ominis in such a fragile state. When he would open up about his family and his childhood, sometimes he would get quiet like this. In those times, he had held onto you like you were driftwood in an ocean of terror he was drowning in. The way he was cradling the baby so close to his chest now meant he was anchoring to her at this moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to take her from him, even if the baby’s young mother was wanting to see her.

The only thing you could do was sit beside him on the couch. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hand rubbed in soft patterns across his arm. A few moments later, you had to tell him, “Anne sent me to collect the baby.”

Ominis nodded and softly said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer then. You can- you can take her now.”

There was a tense static in the room. The last thing you wanted to do was end this moment. Even with Sebastian’s for at born, Ominis had never asked to hold them, let alone hold them longer the few times he had been forced to.

“Why don’t you just carry her to the bedroom for me, hm?”

That was not what Ominis wanted to hear. His eyes widened with fear. “I can’t I- I don’t know how to.”

“It’ll be alright,” you were already adjusting his left arm so that he was providing better support underneath her as you spoke, “Just support her bum here. You can use your other arm too if you’re unsure. Just bring that one to cover here and- There. Now you’ve got a very good hold on her. After you get up from the couch just put it right back there where I showed you. I’ll lead you to the bedroom. Come along, now.”

Before he had time to come up with an excuse, you were dragging him up from the couch and guiding him to Anne’s room. Usually, he hated being guided places unless the situation was dire or he was in a big crowd. Sometimes people at work would try and guide from around the building. He took a bit of offense to it. If he ever needed a guide, he could just use his wand!

But now he was holding this tiny little thing in his arms, and it was alive and depending on him not to trip or bump into something. Without fighting it, Ominis let you hold his elbow and guide him across Anne’s house to the master bedroom. You had him sit in an armchair in the corner of the room as you joked with Anne, “You said, ‘Bring the baby’, and I wasn’t sure which one so naturally… I brought both.”

“You two look good like that. With her,” Anne commented as you put your hand on Ominis’s shoulder.

You were thankful Ominis couldn’t see your flush or the warning look you gave Anne. Around Ominis, you tried your hardest to avoid the topic of starting a family of your own. Your mother mentioned it every time the two of you visited her. She wanted grandkids. Usually, Anne and Sebastian were safe to converse with because they knew Ominis as well as you did. A comment like that almost felt out of character for Anne, especially since she was so protective of Ominis.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ominis replied smoothly.

“Have you burped her yet?”

“Have I what?”

You laughed and patted Ominis on the shoulder. “That can get messy. Why don’t we let Anne do that, hm?”

“I can do it,” he offered quickly. “Just tell me how, and I can do it.”

You draped a towel over his shoulder and directed him to lay the baby against it. It didn’t take long to burp her. Ominis winced at the wet gurgling by his ear and the pungent, sour smell of the formula coming back tenfold. You giggled at his reaction and seemed to be cleaning up the baby’s face so that Ominis could go back to snuggling her.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. I’d hoped you would. After all, she’s named after you.”

A beat of silence dragged by before Ominis was able to ask, “What?”

“My little Minnie. Cute, don’t you think?” Anne smiled softly. “You were always there for me when Sebastian and I had our falling out. I appreciate you and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Minnie is such a sweet name,” you commented once you realized Ominis was too stunned to respond. “Perfect for this sweet little girl.”

A couple of hours went by while you and Anne chatted. Ominis didn’t move from the armchair with Minnie and never once complained about his arm going numb from holding her.

Went you stood up so go start something for dinner, an Apparation crack sounded from outside. All three of you were alert and tense, wondering who it could be. You brought out your wand and headed to the front door, but it burst open before you had the chance to get there.

“Anne?!” The desperate cry of her husband called through the house. His heavy footsteps sprinted for the bedroom. Blood and scrapes littered his face and his hair and clothes were in disarray and even looked a bit singed. “Are you alright?” He raced to embrace her.

“You’ll have to give her up now, my love,” you whispered in Ominis’s ear while Anne and her husband reunited.

With a heavy sigh, Ominis stood from the armchair and approached the side of the bed Anne’s husband was standing on. He tearfully took Minnie from Ominis then looked at Anne in disbelief.

“She looks just like you.”

Sebastian’s wife was standing in the entryway, looking just as disheveled as Anne’s husband. While you and Ominis left the bedroom to give the new family some privacy, Sebastian’s wife explained, “There was a dragon attack that led to a cave-in. He was trapped for nearly a week.”

“Lucky you were able to find him. You’re amazing, honestly. Are you okay? Do you need anything? The both of you look like you got in a fistfight with the dragon!” You told her.

“Nearly did! Its tail swung at me at one point. It’s been an eventful day. All that’s on my mind is getting home to the kids and Sebastian.”

“We’ll be heading home as well, I think. Stay safe.”

With her gone, you cleaned up a few things around Anne’s house. Ominis tagged along on your cleaning spree, but he was nearly silent while doing so. You worried today might have been too much for him, but you would decide you would wait to check on him until after getting him to the comfort of your own home.

“You can floo first, Ominis! I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to throw this blanket in the laundry bin.”

He was gone in a smokey, green flash. As promised, you traveled just a moment later. You hardly had a second to focus on the blur of your living room before a pair of hands were haphazardly dragging you forward until a rather demanding set of lips landed over yours. In his defense, Ominis had warned you earlier that day that he would be taking his stress out on you.

“What a lovely welcome home,” you comment when he pulls away, thinking it would end there.

His voice was a bit raspy in your ear, “Tell me what you’ve been wanting, and I’ll give it to you.” And although the sound of his voice was arousing, you could tell he wasn’t talking about anything sexual. There was a pointed annoyance in his tone. The unspoken dream you’ve been trying to keep to yourself secret all these years seemed to be weighing down on the both of you.

“Ominis, I don’t expect that of you. Is this because of what Anne said about us looking good with a baby? She was only teasing, Ominis. You know I would never ask that if you.”

Lips started to trail down your neck, tasting you. Between kisses, Ominis was whispering, “So good to me. Trying to hide her desires. It’s okay. I want it too.”

“What do you mean?” You managed out between gasps. His hands were exploring every inch of your body as if he didn’t already have you memorized. It took all of your willpower to restrain yourself and pull away from him because he seemed as though he was going to continue on without clarifying if you weren’t going to make him.

He groaned as if he was the one losing out on pleasure by you pulling away. “Want it too. Wanna give you a baby,” he whined softly. The words shocked you enough that your hold weakened. Ominis took the opportunity to lean back in, but you put your hands on his shoulders to hold him at bay.

“I think you caught an illness while at Anne’s,” you say in a worried tone. The back of your fingers pressed to his forehead. “Yup, just as I suspected. You have a bad case of baby fever. I think a good night's rest will be just the cure.”

Rolling his eyes at your antics, Ominis insisted, “I’ve thought about this before, and I know you want one. I don’t need sight to know how you feel about Sebastian’s kids. You are always coming up with excuses to be with them longer. It’s okay. I’m not going to be angry if you admit it. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I’m happy with you. I don’t need anything more. I would never ask for anything more.”

Ominis rested his forehead against yours. “I know you would never dare to ask. That’s why I’m offering.”

“And you’ll regret offering such things in the morning,” you reminded him.

“No, I won’t.”

“I know holding Minnie was overwhelming for you, but don’t let those new emotions cloud your judgment. You’ve never wanted kids before this. Just think for a moment and-“

“I have thought about it, many times. Maybe I’ve been apprehensive to the idea, but that was before. I thought it wasn’t possible for me to connect with children, that I wouldn’t be able to care for them the way a parent should. I thought I’d be cold and distant like my parents, so I didn’t want to bring a child into this world for them to feel alone and unwanted. But now, with her, I was able to care, to- to…”

“To love?” you offered

“Please say you believe me,” he sounded so lost and broken.

Your hands cupped his cheeks as you wiped away his tears of frustration. “I believe you. I never doubted that you wouldn’t be able to love our child if we had one. I just assumed you didn’t dare to let yourself try because of your parents. I love you, Ominis. Of course I want to have your children. I want them to be just as stubborn, but just as caring as you. I want them to have your sarcastic wit but also your devoted loyalty. It’s something I’ve thought about endlessly, so don’t think I’m turning you down when I ask for you to think on it just a while longer. Let the emotions from today come back down. I’ll make us dinner, we’ll go to bed. Then, whenever you are ready to talk about this, we will.”

Ominis managed to look disappointed but grateful at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”

And think on it he did, or simmer was a closer description. While you were in the kitchen, he pretended to read with his wand. There was a moment of uncertainty when he thought about how holding Minnie had made him feel. Would he be able to connect like that with his own child? But then again, how could he not? His own child would be half you, and he loved every part of you, even the side of you that thought you knew what was best for him by making him sit with his thoughts.

After a while, you brought him a cup of tea and kissed his temple. Ominis mumbled a thank you and continued to pretend to read. He could tell by the way you lingered in the doorway as you left the living room that you had used the tea as an excuse to check in on him. Instead of clueing you into his thoughts, he remained aloof and sipped his tea without showing any emotion positive or negative. The last thing he wanted was to hear you ramble about how he wasn’t in the right headspace to know what he truly wanted.

What he wanted was to be buried deep in you as he came. He wanted to, for once, not ruin his adrenaline rush by pulling out at the last second. He wanted you to have his child. He wanted a family with you, and he didn’t want to waste another second before starting it. This was something he should have done years ago.

“Dinner is ready,” you announced. There was a tremor in your voice as though you were nervous to speak to him. You spent the last thirty minutes hiding in the kitchen and wondering if he was cross with you since he hardly spoke at all when you brought him tea.

“It smells lovely in here.” Ominis played along with you, pretending not to notice your slip-up.

“Thank you. What were you reading?”

“A book that Sebastian’s wife recommended about keeping dragons.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“It is.”

And that was all you got out of him. Ominis finished his food before you then disappeared to the kitchen to do the dishes while you sat in silence at the dining table. The wine wasn’t strong enough to keep your mind from worrying. How long would things be like this? Usually, Ominis was easy to get through to, so your arguments never lasted long. Would this remain an unspoken thing in your marriage for years to come? Forever?

You tiptoed into the kitchen with your empty plate. Ominis had done most of the dishes except for a single pan and the plate and fork in your hands. Even though you were trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Ominis held his open hand out in your direction and said, “Your plate.”

Reluctantly, you handed him the dirty dish. “Thank you for cleaning.”

“You cooked, so I cleaned. No reason to thank me. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right,” you whispered quietly.

Ominis raised his brow. “What? No comeback? No telling me how wrong I am for not accepting your gratitude? No making me think about it before I decide I want to do the dishes?”

“So you are mad at me!” You said it like it was an accusation. “I knew it. You’re being ridiculous! I’m only asking you to think on this before you decide!”

“You think I haven’t thought about it? Nearly ten years of marriage and you don’t think I fantasize about what it would feel like to hold you while my child is growing inside you?” He dried his hands on a dishrag and then leaned against the counter, looking exasperated. His volume hadn’t matched yours yet. He was holding back.

“You don’t have to do this just because it’s something I want!”

“Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t want it too!” His yell seemed to echo in the tiny kitchen.

After a second of trying to remind yourself how to breathe, you felt horrible for letting it escalate so far. Hearing Ominis was scared just made you want to comfort him. You spoke softly, “Ominis-“

“No, don’t do that. Don’t pity me and try to comfort me. Don’t use that as an excuse for us not to do this. Either you want us to have a child, or you don’t. I need you to be fully in on this as well. I’ll need you to show me how to make a bottle a few more times, how to change a diaper, and how to hold them properly. I need you to be patient with me, but I don’t want you to pity me. Is that understood?”

“I understand.” His words started to sink in. He seemed satisfied with your agreeability and turned back to the sink to finish the last two dishes. When the water cut off, you were still frozen in the center of your kitchen and trying to figure out if this was all real or a fever dream.

Ominis was humming a melody that had been playing earlier on Anne’s phonograph as he put away the pan he cleaned last. When he passed you by, a hand reached out to touch you. It dragged across your stomach to your hip and squeezed.

“If you are feeling against the idea any sort of way, now might be your last chance to speak up,” he warned, “I won’t be able to hold back tonight with this on my mind.”

“Don’t hold back-“ Was all he needed to hear before you were backed up against the kitchen counter with his lips how and heavy on yours. His approach was usually far more gentle. The two of you could kiss for hours before he’d even cop a feel. Now his hands were unbuttoning your clothes at your waistline and tugging the fabric down with haste.

This is what you’ve been dreaming of. Only a handful of times had Ominis ever devoured you in such a way. Things were more heated when the two of you were younger, exploring each other, and having uncontrollable urges. Since marriage, Ominis had calmed in that sense. You lived together, so he had the ability to take his time and appreciate every inch of you. It was always about bringing you pleasure as many times as the night would allow. Tonight was a stark contrast to those gentle touches.

Before you knew it, he had your panties around your ankles and was telling you to sit on the counter that he had just cleaned. You hopped up as told, but your position still didn’t have his approval. His fingers hooked under your knees and yanked so that your ass slid across the counter until it was nearly hanging off the edge. He smirked at the feeling of your heated core bumping into his dress pants.

“Right there. Stay right there on the edge for me.” And then he was sinking to his knees. His hands held your inner thighs to keep you from trying to close them, not that you would have.

His mouth was everywhere except the one place you wanted it so desperately. Your clit ached for attention. It seemed like Ominis would be taking his sweet time with you after all. This was usually welcomed attention, but tonight, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You didn’t even need to finish yourself as long as he spilled inside of you.

But even though your mind didn’t need an orgasm, that didn’t mean your body wasn’t craving it. Your hips bucked slightly when his nose nearly brushed against your clit. His hands held you down on the counter as he chuckled. The vibration of his laugh made you quiver.

“Don’t fall off the counter, now. Twisting your ankle won’t get you out of taking my cock. I’d just lay you on the bed and elevate your foot with pillows before filling you up.”

“Ominis,” your voice came out like you were scolding him. He’s spoken dirty before, but never quite like that.

“Just today you admitted in this very kitchen that you push my buttons on purpose to get me to snap and bite you, yet I’m the one being told off. And for what? Making sure my wife’s hypothetical, hurt ankle would be taken care of before I give her the child she so desperately wants?”

“I- oh-,” You lost your train of thought as his lips brushed against your clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking. The feeling was too much after waiting for so long. You squirmed again, this time to get away. The feeling in the pit of your stomach always felt better releasing when things had been slow and steady. Now, you could feel the tension building alarmingly fast.

Ominis took your hips trying to move as a sign of your eagerness. His tongue lapped up your wetness that had started to seep out. Then, it dipped inside of you and his nose rubbed against your clit. Your hands were gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself from flying off.

Now you were saying his name like a prayer. Your breathy pleas were quite the opposite from how you had just scolded him a few moments ago. Hearing you pant and mumble his name made him smirk. You could feel the corner of his mouth rise slightly against you. That action was enough to send you over the edge, almost literally if Ominis hadn’t been holding you in place on the counter. He kept his tongue in place to feel you pulse around it, though he was careful not to overstimulate you and ruin your high. Only when the pulsations slowed to nearly an end did he pull back and stand up.

“Such a good girl for me. Coming on my tongue and sounding so sweet.” He kissed you with the taste of your juices still on his tongue. You hadn’t even dared to let go of the counter while Ominis got to work unbuttoning his own pants. “Was gonna wait to have you in the bedroom, but I don’t think I can.” And then, he was lined up at your entrance and pushing in.

His movements were slow as he took you in an all consuming kiss to distract you from the stretch. Normally, you could handle whatever Ominis threw at you. This time, you were sitting nearly upright because of how close Ominis held your for the kiss. The position made it hard to take him fully, at least in an enjoyable way. You tried leaning back, and while that did help things start to feel pleasurable, your hand had landed in a stick of butter. The plate clanked against the counter. You immediately cursed under your breath.

Ominis, having heard the plate, had the audacity to laugh at your demise. He pulled out and scolded you, “You aren’t making a mess of my clean kitchen, are you?”

“It seems like you’ll have to wait until we get to the bedroom after all, and now I’ve got to wash my hand as well!”

His hands didn’t leave you the entire time you stood at the sink to try and scrub away the slimy mess on your hand. Even while walking down the hallway his hands were at work taking off your shirt and throwing it who knows where. Needless to say, you were both naked by the time you made it to the bedroom.

Vibrations ran down your neck from his voice mumbling while his lips were against your skin. “Lay on the bed.”

You had expected his hands to be all over you again the moment your back landed on the mattress. Instead, Ominis felt around for the pillows at the head of the bed. He tapped your hip. “Lift up.”

It was hard to deny his odd request because of how deeply you loved when he got a bit bossy like this. You lifted your bum so that he could slide a few pillows under you. The gesture seemed sweet, but entirely unnecessary. You’d been married for nearly nine years now, it wasn’t like you were delicate in the bedroom.

“You’re very sweet, my love, but I don’t need this to be comfortable. You won’t break me.”

Ominis stilled. His hand rested on your thigh. It looked as though he was debating something. “It’s not… for your comfort.”

“Then why are you- oh.” You swallowed your words when it set in. Your hips were high in the air like this. Gravity would make the mess Ominis was about to make stay inside you instead of seeping out.

“But are you comfortable like this?” Ominis ran his hand from your hip to your breast. His hand squeezing around you was faint and soft, more akin to a tender caress instead of anything overtly sexual.

“Yes,” you earnestly answered.

“You might have to stay like this for quite some time,” Ominis leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “Can you handle that?”

You nodded, then felt stupid before replying verbally, “I’m comfortable like this. I can stay as long as you think it’s necessary for it to… set in.”

His hand moved from your breast to lay over your heartbeat for a moment. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. “Your heart is racing.”

“I might be a bit excited.”

“Oh yeah?” Both his hands smoothed down your body until they rested on your hips. He got on his knees between your legs. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” His thumb messily rubbed over your clit then dipped down between your folds to feel the sticky arousal that had been leaking out of you since the kitchen. There wasn’t much of a rhythm to his movements because he was just wetting his hand so that he could lubricate himself, but still, his hand touching you there in any capacity made your breathing pick up.

You were mumbling his name all desperate and breathy. Ominis chuckled at how needy you sounded. Giving you what you were begging for, he lined himself up, which caused you to whimper even more because his tip dragged across your clit a few times before he found your entrance. As he started to sink in, you sighed in relief. This angle was much better than sitting on the counter. With surprising ease, he nearly bottomed out. There was just a pinch of tightness that made him still for a moment.

His lips were leaving tender kisses across your chest and neck while he let you adjust to the feeling. You were mumbling into his neck for him to move, to take you. Your neediness made him want to give in to those desires, but Ominis wanted to memorize everything about this moment. The smell of sweat and sex in the air was absolutely vile, but incredibly mouthwatering all the same. He could go deeper than he ever had before at this angle, but that area felt tight around his tip. Ominis pulled out slightly and thrust back in slowly, being careful not to go too far and hurt you.

“More,” you were begging, nearly crying in the crook of his shoulder.

Not being able to deny you a second longer, Ominis started to thrust his hips. It wasn’t shallow, but he still wouldn’t let himself go further than the two of you were used to. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails lightly skimmed across his shoulders. He shivered and his hips stuttered unevenly, accidentally driving deeper into you. Immediately, Ominis pulled back and whispered an apology in your ear, but you held tighter onto him.

“Again, do it again.”

A tentative hand brushed the hair off your forehead so Ominis could kiss it. He pushed in deeper, but deliberately slow so he could listen for any signs of discomfort. His thumb found your clit again, hoping to give you a bit of pleasure to combat the fullness. The second his thumb grazed over you, your walls convulsed around his cock and your body shook erratically.

Ominis felt his own waves of pleasure building. On instinct, he tried to pull out to finish on your stomach. Your thighs wrapped around his waist to hold him in place.

“Please, come inside me. I want to make you a daddy.”

Your words made the tips of his ears go red. But now that he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he remembered the whole point of the evening, why he had made you rest your hips on a pile of pillows, and why he was able to reach this deep inside you in the first place.

“Stop me if it hurts,” was all the warning Ominis could give before his hips started to rut against you, hitting as deep as his length would allow with every feverish thrust. His pelvis was hitting your clit each time, Turning you right back into a moaning mess beneath him.

“There, right there.”

His breath was hot and heavy on your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my seed, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you just like this twice a day with your hips all high and willing to take me until we find out it worked. And then, I’m going to keep coming in you every night after to celebrate. I’ll fill you up so good, that we won’t know if it’s my come or my child growing in you that’s making you bigger.”

Talking dirty wasn’t new for Ominis, but it was rarely obscene and never, ever like this. That with how deep and fast he was fucking you made you speechless, breathless, thoughtless. You couldn’t even see straight, so you just held onto him for dear life and panted, but no breath was deep enough to fill your lungs or call you down. The tension in your entire body builds to the point that your leg was cramping. You wrapped it around Omni’s leg just to ease the pressure, but Ominis saw that as you wanting him to go harder.

So he did. His hips snapped into you hysterically. You cried out in ecstasy as another orgasm hit you like a train.

His hips faltered and he groaned as he came while your walls relentlessly milked his cock. You couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. Feeling his warm spurts of come paint your walls and add pressure made your intense waves of pleasure drag out. Ominis was on his elbows and panting, his lips right above yours. You already couldn’t breathe, but you pulled him down for a kiss regardless.

“I love you,” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss. “Was that okay? Are you hurting? Should I get you a-“

Ominis had started to move, but your arms wrapped tighter around him and your walls clenched around his length. “Don’t move yet. Stay. Just stay.”

Seeming to understand and reciprocate your need to be close, Ominis rested on an elbow and then used his other hand to caress your body as if you were made of glass. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”

The two of you laid like that for a while just playing with each other’s hair and whispering sweet nothings. Soon, Ominis started to get hard again inside of you. He slyly shifted his hips, but his excuse of getting more comfortable didn’t work on you.

“Ominis,” you whined in an exhausted tone. How was he ready to go again!?

His kisses on your neck paused while he laughed against your skin. “Well, I did say twice a day until we’re certain, didn’t I?”