#his little brother was alive 😭😭😭

[just-some-random-blogger]

I'm crying. I'm literally crying. Tears have streamed down my face whilst reading this (I think my eyes got irritated when I scratch my eye with lotion still on my hand) STILL IM CRYINNGGG

I'm going to be so annoying, basically requoting your entire fic back to you

And what started as a little crush has grown into a beast with teeth, eating you alive, consuming every spare moment of your life.

.5 SECONDS IN THE OPENJNG SO STRONG MY BODY WAS TINGLING UGHHHHH

You couldn't be sure how he felt about you, [...]

❓❓❓❓ wHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU CAN YOU BE A LIL BIT SMARTER THAN THIS HELLO GAGO THIS IS WHY EVERYONE HAS TO BE A BIT DELULU COS LOOK AT THIS IDIOT BEING LIKE iM NoT sUre If bILl LiKes me???? I will shove your head into a wood chipper

[...] but he seemed to read your mind as well as you did his. He somehow could anticipate your needs, no matter how trivial, and would go well out of his way to ensure those needs were met.

❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗ be so for real. Aint no way you couldn't tell. Is same bill Weasley in the room with us? U are dumb. I hate you. Fuck him or I will

He was also fiercely protective, a trait of his that claimed several more victims than Waylan as the weeks progressed. But for you, Bill seemed to have a never ending well of patience. You couldn't ignore the amount of times you caught his gaze lingering on you, or the frequency he went out of his way to touch you, to help you, to serve you.

MAMA LOOK AT HOW HE BEIN AND UR OVER HERE ACTIN LIKE HE DOIN NOTHING. HELLO??? I HAVE TO SAY I MISS I MISSS I MISSSSSS THE I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU TROPE 😭😭😭😭 I SHOULD GET ON THAT. GET TO WRITING IT COS OH MY GOSH THIS WAS DELICIOUS FUCKKKKKKKKKK

But you just couldn't believe that Bill Weasley would be even remotely interested in someone like you. Not to mention, the professional boundaries of your relationship were still intact.

While I understand the latter statement

I WILL FUCKING ROCKET LAUNCH NUCLEAR WARFARE YOUR FUCKING FACE MISS ME WITH THAT BULLSHIT I SWEAR I SWEAR

Was it too tight for a birthday party? Too formal? Not formal enough?

?????????❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ You're going to your bff's bday???????? You can wear a sack if ur chill like that hello??????? NURSE GISING NA SIYA SHES SO OUT OF IT MAMA

“Oh! Bill, sorry. I didn't—” You managed to tear your gaze from his body up to his face, finding his eyes glued to you, jaw a little slack, and the apology died in your throat.

😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃 I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON. I BEGGGGGG YOUR FUCKING FINEST PARDON???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOOKED AT HIS BODY AND DIDNT EVEN NOTICE HE WAS LOOKING AT YOU 🫵🫵🫵 YOU 🫵🫵🫵🫵 YOUUUUU ALL ALONG AND WITH A SLACKED JAW WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!!!!! 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃

He lowered his hands to his sides, belt still undone.

HE WHAT????????? BESTIE BESTIE 😭😭😭 BESTIEEE BESTIE THE NERVOUS LAUGH THE NERVOUS LAUGHTERRRRRRR I WISH I COULD RECORD MYSELF AND ADD IT TO THIS FIC COS WHAT THE FUCK AHAHHHAH SAVE ME WHITE BOY SAVE ME OR NOT

The simmering heat between you bloomed to an inferno at your open perusal of one another, and you found yourself taking a step towards him, brainless as a moth.

😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗ IM FINE I THINK THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL SHES SO DOWN BAD HES SO DOWN BAD I HATE JT I AM NOT NORMAL

“Happy birthday to us,” Fred smirked, and you swatted his arm before pulling him in for a hug. Over Fred's shoulder, you caught Bill glaring daggers at his younger brother, but he quickly schooled his expression and turned his attention back to his father.

MY BOOOBOOOO LOVE LOVE FREDDIE BOY MY GEORGIE BILL YOU LEAVE THEM ALONEEEEEEEE

You jumped up and started to collect the plates, using your wand to clear away the food. Moving around the table, you reached Bill, who was chatting with Ron about Ministry things. You leaned over Bill's shoulder, brushing against his arm to retrieve his plate, but he didn't react. Didn't even look up at you.

NAH COS I WAS GONNA SAY SHES NOT TOXIC HE STARTED IT HE WAS BEING WEIRD FOR IGNORING HER BUT GIRL. GIRLLLL. MAMA???? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. JuMPING INTO HOT WATER IS CRAZYYYYY

Cake was served, and you let George feed you a few forkfuls while you and Fred told a few of your favorite stories from your time together at Hogwarts.

😃😭🤣 MAMAAAAAAAAA WHAT IS THISSSSSSSS. oh but I do I do I do I dooooo love being give princess treatment by my Georgie boy. SPOONFEEDING or forkfeeding IS CRAZYYYY

Then, you filled George's whiskey, careful to pour the correct amount. You could feel Bill’s eyes burning into you, his jaw clenched, and a giddy excitement flared in your lower belly. You capped the whiskey, licking a stray drop from your thumb, and returned it to the kitchen, leaving Bill’s glass dry.

BESTIEEEEEEEEEEEEE WHAT ARE YOU ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN I RESPECT THE HUSTLE BUT THIS IS 😃😃😃 NO FR BE SO FR LIKE I LOVE BEING BRATTY AND INSUFFERABLE BUT 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃 IM SCAREDDDDDDDDDDD YOURE BEING SOOOOO PETTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AND FOR WHATTTTTT

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Bill growled against your ear, the smell of smoke and whiskey clouding the air around him.

-i say through a shudder clutching my pearls thighs shaking pussy throbbing mind melted I ain't got nothing else to say to you sir I was thinking with my vagina and not my brain

“I didn't peg you for the jealous type, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, desire spilling through your body and making your thighs clench.

Bestie what the fuck was that. All that for this? LAME LAME LAME I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED YOU TO KEEP PLAYING THE PART BUT YOU HAVE NO SHAME YOU JUST ADMITTED TO THE JIG RIGHT AFTER PRETENDING YOU WERE WALTZING. L MOVE. YOURE BEING SO INSUFFERABLE AND YOU KNOW WHAT AS IM TYPING THIS I realize I have to calm down and respect your game. Its bad game but 👍 you have bill and I don't unfortunately

He smiled, a wolfish, sharp thing, and dragged you the last few inches to his mouth. It was a rough kiss, a culmination of weeks of longing, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, prying your mouth open so he could taste you. His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned, getting drunk off of his lust, his dominance.

I KNOW YOU CANT READ MY MIND AND YOU HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU BUT FUCKJNG HELL FUCKING HELL THJS WWHILE THING THE TEETH THE KISS RHE DOMISNANCE HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL EVER FOREVER???

“Yes, Bill,” you whimpered, pressing your body against his. “Please.”

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵 WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- she's me

Having him be so rough, so needy, it made you want to climb him like a tree.

RUNNING TO CLIMB HIM. DYINGGGG TO CLIMB HIM. WOOF WOOF WOOF

He flipped the two of you around, pressing you into the wall, his free hand splaying across your lower back to keep your hips anchored to his as he leaned into you.

I SCREAMED. NO YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. I SCREAMED LIKE SO HARD. WHAT THE FUCK

“Bill,” you gasped, head falling back as he kissed and licked down your throat, his teeth grazing your fluttering pulse. It felt like he was devouring you, biting off chunks of your rationality, your resolve, until you were nothing but a writhing, moaning mess in his arms.

BEGGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES TO BE BITTEN BY YOU SO BE DEVOURED BY YOU TO BE MAULLLLEDDDDDDDDD BLOODD DOWN YOUR FUCKING JAWWW AND NECKK

“But now I know you better, and I. Don't. Share.”

mY STOMACH DROPPPPPPPPPPPEDDDDD MYYYYYYYY PUSSYYYYY CLENCCCHHHHHHHHHEEEEEDDDDDDDD I DONT MIND NOT SHARING YOU WITH THE TWINS I DO NOT MINDDDD AT ALLL

[...] practically foaming at the mouth for him, but he wasn't having it.

PRACTICALLY??????? PRACTICALLY??????

GAGO TUMBLR ATE THE BOTTOM HALF OF MY REBLOG GIRL WAHT THE FUCJKKKKKKKKK SHIT FUCKKKKK IM GONNA CRYYYYY IM SO SORRY I DO NOT HAVE THE WILLL POWER TO GO BACK AND COPY PASTE EVERYONE ONE BY ONE ARE YOU FUCKJNG KIDDING ME TUNBLR FUCK YOUR GLITCH I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH

Anyway ughhh I hate it. I literally put so many gifs 😭😭😭 the smut was immaculate well written lovely. SPITTING?? BITTING??? OVERSTIM??? SERVICE DOMMM YOU REALLY REALLY REALLY ATE WITH THAT BUT NOT AS GOOD AS BILLLLLLLLLLL FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I'm so sad you Tumblr did this to me I hate it here but please please know I am not normal I love you I'm going to go cry about this glitch. I'll reblog this again if I ever do a reread 😭😭😭😭

Magic Lessons p.2 | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x intern!reader

SUMMARY: Things escalate with your boss, Bill Weasley, at the twins birthday party when you plot to make him jealous. But he gets his revenge back at the office.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, jealous!Bill, reader gets a lil toxic, oral (f receiving), age gap, bill is a pleasure dom I don't make the rules, mentions of alcohol and smoking, strong language

>Part One

Things shifted between you and Bill after that night. You were more than just coworkers, mentor and apprentice, you developed a mutual understanding.

And what started as a little crush has grown into a beast with teeth, eating you alive, consuming every spare moment of your life. You had never felt so connected to someone before, so attuned to their feelings and desires, like your souls were tied together.

You couldn't be sure how he felt about you, but he seemed to read your mind as well as you did his. He somehow could anticipate your needs, no matter how trivial, and would go well out of his way to ensure those needs were met.

He was also fiercely protective, a trait of his that claimed several more victims than Waylan as the weeks progressed. But for you, Bill seemed to have a never ending well of patience. You couldn't ignore the amount of times you caught his gaze lingering on you, or the frequency he went out of his way to touch you, to help you, to serve you.

But you just couldn't believe that Bill Weasley would be even remotely interested in someone like you. Not to mention, the professional boundaries of your relationship were still intact.

It had been three months since the incident with the cursed axe, and it was the twins birthday. You hadn't spoken about the fact that you would both be attending the same party outside of work, but the thought made your nerves tingle with adrenaline.

You and Bill had only seen each other at work or during work-related functions. But this, attending a family party, felt like uncharted territory.

Would he be willing to cross the lines of professionalism? You weren't sure. Would you be willing to risk a career at Gringotts? Again, you weren't sure. But every day, it became harder and harder to ignore the burgeoning heat between you, that soul tie winding tighter and tighter.

You were at a standstill, paralyzed by indecision, and it was driving you mad.

The two of you were the last in the office, and you slipped away to get ready in the bathroom while he finished things up. You changed into your outfit, a maxi dress in your favorite color with a pair of heeled boots, and refreshed your makeup.

You did a small turn in the mirror, a wave of insecurity making you doubt your selection. Was it too tight for a birthday party? Too formal? Not formal enough?

Well, it was the only one you brought, so it would have to do. You collected your things a returned to Bill's office.

When you pushed open the door, you found him mid-change, wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and fastening a black belt around his waist, his shirt folded neatly on the desk.

You knew he was strong from years of hard travel, but this. He was lean and toned, broad shoulders with a narrow waist, and even littered with scars from Fenrir’s attack, he was gorgeous.

“Oh! Bill, sorry. I didn't—” You managed to tear your gaze from his body up to his face, finding his eyes glued to you, jaw a little slack, and the apology died in your throat.

He lowered his hands to his sides, belt still undone. The simmering heat between you bloomed to an inferno at your open perusal of one another, and you found yourself taking a step towards him, brainless as a moth.

His hands flexed, then balled into fists, and you paused, a flicker of reality passing through the haze of desire.

“We need to go,” he said, clearing his throat and grabbing his shirt.

You nodded, disappointment setting like a stone in your stomach.

You took the Floo System to the Burrow, managing to arrive only five minutes late.

“Bill!” His family cried, swarming him. But the twins went straight for you.

“Y/n! Look at you!” George gushed, pulling you in for a hug.

“Happy birthday to us,” Fred smirked, and you swatted his arm before pulling him in for a hug. Over Fred's shoulder, you caught Bill glaring daggers at his younger brother, but he quickly schooled his expression and turned his attention back to his father.

The twins introduced you to the few family members you hadn't met, and you answered the dozens of questions they threw your way while dinner was served. Bill was ignoring you almost entirely, caught up in conversation with his father and Percy. You knew you shouldn't take it personally, you were just colleagues after all, but it still rankled, and you could feel an attitude brewing.

Then, a wicked idea wormed it's way into your mind.

You laughed loudly at one of George's jokes, leaning into his side while he gestured in the air. He draped his arm over you, the type of platonic physical contact the two of you did all the time, but Bill didn't know that.

You saw Bill’s sharp eye snag on the movement, and bit your lips to keep from smiling at your small victory.

A few moments later, you reached over to take a sip of Fred's beer, making a show of wrapping your lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fingers delicate on the glass. You set the bottle down, then shifted to whisper something in Fred’s ear, your hand resting on his. You didn't say anything of real interest, just a little inside joke between the two of you. Fred chuckled, turning to whisper something back to you, and you grinned, winking at him.

You risked a glance at Bill and saw him white knuckling his empty whiskey glass, eyes trained on the birthday cake at the center of the table, and your confidence swelled.

“Mrs. Weasley, would you like some help clearing up for dessert?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Oh, thank you, dearie!” She chirped, grinning at you.

You jumped up and started to collect the plates, using your wand to clear away the food. Moving around the table, you reached Bill, who was chatting with Ron about Ministry things. You leaned over Bill's shoulder, brushing against his arm to retrieve his plate, but he didn't react. Didn't even look up at you.

You huffed internally and brought the dishes to the kitchen, casing a spell so they'd wash themselves. You went to the fridge, retrieving a fresh beer for Fred and grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey from the counter.

You returned to the dining room and set the beer in front of Fred, who accepted with a smile.

“Thanks, love,” he cooed, taking a sip.

Then, you filled George's whiskey, careful to pour the correct amount. You could feel Bill’s eyes burning into you, his jaw clenched, and a giddy excitement flared in your lower belly. You capped the whiskey, licking a stray drop from your thumb, and returned it to the kitchen, leaving Bill’s glass dry.

Cake was served, and you let George feed you a few forkfuls while you and Fred told a few of your favorite stories from your time together at Hogwarts.

You knew you'd done it when Bill excused himself to smoke, a habit he never indulged in at work.

You knew it was wrong to push him, to strain whatever tenuous balance the two of you held, but you just couldn't help yourself. He was driving you insane.

After dessert, everyone ventured back into the living room for games and more drinks, and you slipped outside to find Bill.

He found you first.

An arm snaked out of the shadows and tugged you into the dark, directly into a hard chest.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Bill growled against your ear, the smell of smoke and whiskey clouding the air around him.

“I don't know what you mean,” you replied, tilting your head.

His took a drag off of his cigarette, glaring at you through the smoke. “You know better than to lie to me,” he warned.

“I didn't peg you for the jealous type, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, desire spilling through your body and making your thighs clench.

His free hand lifted, skimming your throat before moving around the nape of your neck. “It already kills me that they met you first, that they know you so well.” His grip tightened, scruffing you, and you gasped. “Is this what you wanted?” He rasped, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes, Bill,” you whimpered, pressing your body against his. “Please.”

He smiled, a wolfish, sharp thing, and dragged you the last few inches to his mouth. It was a rough kiss, a culmination of weeks of longing, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, prying your mouth open so he could taste you. His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned, getting drunk off of his lust, his dominance.

It was so different than his usual professional, collected demeanor. You knew he had an edge to him, an undercurrent of darkness that made him so adept at handling curses, but you never expected this. Having him be so rough, so needy, it made you want to climb him like a tree.

He flipped the two of you around, pressing you into the wall, his free hand splaying across your lower back to keep your hips anchored to his as he leaned into you. He felt so different than the other boys you'd been with, so confident and commanding, knowing exactly how to handle you and your desperation.

“Bill,” you gasped, head falling back as he kissed and licked down your throat, his teeth grazing your fluttering pulse. It felt like he was devouring you, biting off chunks of your rationality, your resolve, until you were nothing but a writhing, moaning mess in his arms.

His hand released your neck, sliding down to grab your waist. “But now I know you better, and I. Don't. Share.” Each snarled word was like shot of adrenaline to your heart, forcing your already dizzy self to clutch his shoulders to stay upright.

You nodded, desperate to be closer to him, to have him touch you. His possessiveness drove you crazy, had you practically foaming at the mouth for him, but he wasn't having it.

He grabbed your hands and removed them from his body, and you whined in protest. “Behave, and go back inside before you smell like smoke,” he ordered, though his voice was decidedly softer than before, almost breathless. He nudged you away from him and took another draw of his cigarette, the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the glowing tip.

Reluctantly, you ventured back inside, your thighs sticky with slick and knees weak. You were so focused on what you could do to drive him mad, you forgot entirely about what he could do to you.

So, you were in your best behavior the rest of the night. Charming the parents, befriending the other siblings, being as fun and social as you could manage. By the end of the night, you were buzzed, socially drained, and unbelievably horny, ready to pounce on Bill every time you caught his eye.

“Alright, we have to get to the bank early tomorrow. Y/n, I'll take you home.” He gave you a pointed look and you nodded. “Goodnight, family!” Bill called, hugging his siblings before ushering you towards the Floo Station.

“Happy birthday!” You hugged Fred and George on your way past, and half-stumbled into the Floo Station from exhaustion.

Bill caught you with a strong arm around your waist and held you up, casting the spell before his family could see how close your bodies were.

The next moment, you were back in the office, head spinning from the booze and the magic.

“Alright, love?” He asked, tightening his grip on you when you swayed on your feet.

You nodded and he released you, leaving you cold and unsteady. You walked in silence back to his office to get your things.

When you arrived, you stopped in the doorway. “M’sorry about earlier,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“So am I,” he replied, walking towards his desk and loosening his tie. Your stomach dropped.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, bracing yourself for rejection. “I was the one that acted like an idiot.”

He looked up at you, a sharpness in his eyes. “Don't speak about yourself like that,” he snapped, and you nodded, looking at the floor.

You heard the tread of footsteps, then his hand reached out to hold your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. They were stormier than you'd ever seen them, the sky before a shipwreck.

“I'm sorry for being so rough with you, I can be—” his eyes flicked away, brow pinching in consternation. “After the attack, and the war, and the divorce…I can be cruel, angry. It's a part of me I don't like to show,” he admitted. “So I'm sorry if I frightened you, or overstepped.”

“You didn't frighten me,” you said, placing a tentative hand on his sternum, wanting to comfort him. “Far from it.”

He searched your face as you gazed up at him, starry eyed, and the silence stretched for a few moments.

“This is what I saw,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” You asked, practically trembling with anticipation.

“When you wore the Chameleon necklace,” he replied, his eyes tracing the hollow of your throat before lifting back up to your face. “I saw you like this.”

“You wanted to see me like…this?” You asked, looking down at your dress, confused.

He shook his head, his hand moving up to caress your cheek. “No, not the dress,” he said, so close you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “That right there,” he hummed with a soft, satisfied smile, his thumb smoothing just underneath your lower lashline. “The desire in your eyes.”

Heat scorched your skin and your tried to pull away out of embarrassment, but he held you firm.

“No, darling. You're done hiding from me,” he said, the petname making your pussy thrum, slick collecting on the inside of your thighs. “I've been waiting to see that look in your eye. To see you need me as badly as I've needed you.”

Your heart stalled, your thoughts turning to static.

Needed me?

“I had to be sure this was what you really wanted, that I wasn't just seeing what I wanted to see…” he trailed off, expression softening as he continued to look into your eyes.

“I didn't think you wanted me,” you whispered, in complete disbelief. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“Perhaps we both have.” He bumped his nose against yours, warm breath fanning against your skin. “You've ruined me. My entire life I've been the epitome of restraint. But with you—” His thumb tugged at your lower lip, sending a tendril of arousal curling down your spine. “I can't seem to help myself.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair. “I want you to ruin me too.”

“Sweet girl,” he cooed, feeding his thumb into your mouth. You flicked your tongue over it, tasting the salt of his skin before sucking lightly. “I intend to.”

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a breathtaking, soul-deep kiss that you felt through every nerve ending. You kissed him back eagerly, tugging his hair as he hauled you closer, lifting you into the air so you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Without breaking the kiss, he carried you across the office and set you down onto one of the overstuffed leather armchairs, the same one he conducted your interview in. He kissed you a moment longer, his tongue delving in to taste you before he withdrew and lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“I'm going eat my fill of you, and you’re going to take it all,” he ordered, his voice rough and breathy, chest rising and falling quickly. “Okay?”

“More than okay,” you answered, nodding like an overeager bobble-head.

He chuckled, his eyes holding yours as he gathered up the fabric of your dress and pushed it up your legs, kissing your knees, and up your inner thighs, his long hair tickling the sensitive skin until he reached your clothed cunt, your white panties betraying how aroused you were.

“Look how pretty you are,” he exhaled, breath warm against your skin. “All this for me, baby?”

You nodded, combing your fingers through his red hair so you could see the lovesick look on his handsome face, his eyes soft and mouth upturned at the corners. It was all in such stark contrast to the brutal scars on his face, silvery in the waning candlelight.

You couldn't imagine someone being more beautiful than Bill was in this moment.

He hummed low in his throat, his tongue licking a stripe over your sodden panties and making you whine, desperate for him to touch you.

“How many times have you orgasmed in a row?” He asked, pulling your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“Oh, uh—” your cheeks warmed, caught off guard by the question. “Only once with a partner. Twice on my own. Why?”

You felt him smirk as he leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your swollen clit. “Three, then.”

“Three—oh god,” you moaned, grip tightening on his hair as he laved his tongue through your slit, flicking against your bud before repeating the motion, two, three, five times.

He nursed your clit between his teeth, lashing it with his tongue and making you buck your hips up, the pleasure too intense to hold still. He dropped a forearm over your lower stomach to keep you from moving away, your nails dragging across his skin as you cried out.

He moved down to your entrance, lapping at the pool of slick there before thrusting his tongue inside. With his other hand, he began to massage your clit with his thumb, the rough pad creating delicious friction over your sensitive skin.

Fuck, you could feel your orgasm building already, a coil of heat making your whole body tense and shake, unable to escape his pleasurable assault with his heavy arm holding you down.

“Taste so sweet,” he murmured against you, kitten licking your clit to make you twitch and gasp. He pulled back and spit on your pussy, gliding two fingers through your lips before easing one inside your drooling entrance. “Good girl, can you take another? I know you can—thaaaat’s it, love. Little pussy sucking me right in, so perfect for me.” He was speaking directly against your clit, the movement of his lips and flick of his tongue making your mind go fuzzy, your body ratcheting closer to release by the second.

He curled his fingers inside you, his lips finally sealing to your clit again, and you keened. Sensing you were close, he increased his pace, ruthlessly dragging you to the very edge.

“God, Bill—shit, I'm gonna come!” You cried, your fingers threading through his in an attempt to hang on while he sent you to orbit.

With a final flutter of his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you, you broke, a burst of dizzying pleasure making your eyes roll back, your body convulse in his hold as your orgasm tore through you.

“That's one,” he purred, only slowing for a moment so you could take a full breath before he ramped up his movements again, adding a third finger to your sloppy channel.

“Fuck, I can't—” you whined, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as your body was wound tight once again, helpless as a ballerina in a music box.

“You can. You will,” he ordered, his tone making your pussy clench around his fingers. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've got me now, darling."

“Bill, I—” you screamed as he bit down on your clit, sending you directly back over the edge again, your first orgasm not even fully dissipated before the second one slammed into you, faster and stronger, white hot. Like he'd forced it out of you with his expert touch and tongue.

“That's two. Well done, my love,” he cooed, soothing the bite with his tongue and gently removing his fingers.

You were in a daze, trembling and liquified, practically boneless in the chair. You'd never come so hard on your life.

“Ah-ah,” he chastised, reaching up to pat your cheek with his wet fingers before feeding them into your open mouth. “Not done yet, love.”

You sucked your release off his digits, mindless and happy to do whatever he wanted, so long as he keeps touching you like that.

He withdrew his fingers and lowered his head between your legs again, dragging his tongue through your sensitive folds, smiling when you shivered. With slow, unhurried strokes, he cleaned up the mess he'd made of you, making wide circles around your clit to apply less direct pressure and avoid overstimulating you.

“I could stay here forever,” he groaned, the vibration making you gasp. “Give me one more, yeah? Please? Let me be the one that takes you there.”

It was surreal, being completely at his mercy, yet he's the one begging you to let him make you come again. He'd rendered you completely brainless, and still wanted to give you more.

And you still had barely gotten to touch him.

It was the most delicious torture, the most exquisite suffering, and you knew you were so royally fucked.

There was no going back from this.

“Wanna touch you,” you whimpered, too far gone to do anything but squirm.

“Not yet, I told you how this was going to go. One more, then you’re getting some rest.” He hiked your leg over his shoulder, nuzzling against your pussy. “You don't want to be exhausted at work tomorrow, do you?”

You shook your head, having forgotten completely about anything that wasn't Bill Weasley and his magic fucking tongue.

“Good girl. Now relax and let me work.” He lifted you up slightly, angling you directly towards his mouth, and he resumed feasting, taking big, messy licks and sucks of your cunt, the sounds lewd and unabashed, and you fucking loved it.

You did as your were told and relaxed your muscles, sinking deeper into the chair with your legs in the air. You'd submitted to him already, but this was a a true surrender, passing your entire self, body and soul into his hands. Trusting that he would take care of every part of you.

“That's it, baby,” he praised, kissing your sticky thighs before returning to suckle your clit, making your body hum back to life, pleasure beginning to mount once more.

You moaned his name, nails biting into the leather as he brought you higher and higher, his languid, self-indulgent movements making your head spin.

Feeling your body start to tremble, he flicked his tongue out, just the tip tickling against your hyper-sensitive bud, and you rolled over the edge, simmering, honeyed pleasure spilling through you as you came a third time. It wasn't a harsh, debilitating orgasm, but a blissful release of endorphins that brought tears to your eyes, your muscles and bones unraveling down to the cellular level.

“And there's three,” he said, placing a final, tender kiss to your clit before righting your panties and pulling your dress down.

You were completely blissed out, in your own world as he tugged you off of the chair and into his lap, pressing feather-light kisses up your neck and jaw.

“Come back to me, love. Let me see those pretty eyes so I know you're alright,” he murmured against your cheek, his hands absently massaging your thighs and hips to guide you back into your body.

You blinked your eyes open, turning to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, your chest warm with affection.

“There she is.” He smiled, catching your lips in a soft, sipping kiss. “Okay, love?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” you said, breathless. “That was—I’ve never—”

“You were amazing. And if you didn’t look ready to pass out, I would be taking number four and five.” He helped you sit up, fixing your hair and wiping away a streak of mascara with his thumb.

“Not possible,” you giggled, reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes, your hand moving down to cup his scarred cheek. “As talented as you are, there's no way I could come again.”

He smirked, leaning into your palm. “I guess we'll have to find out. C’mon, let’s get you home.” He helped you to your feet, your knees a little wobbly, collected your things, and led you back out to the Floo Station.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You asked, taking your things from his arms.

“For a bit, but I leave tomorrow afternoon for Cairo, remember?” He looked genuinely apologetic for having to leave, and your heart deflated a bit, disappointed that you wouldn’t see him for a week, maybe more.

“Right, Cairo,” you said, trying to hide how you felt.

“Hey.” He reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. “If it wasn’t so dangerous, I’d take you with me. But I can’t risk something happening to you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Plus I need a capable curse-breaker to manage things here.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, nosing into his neck and breathing him in.

He held you quietly for another moment, his hand trailing up and down your spine before you finally pulled back, yawning.

“Go on, I’ll see you in the morning.” He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Goodnight, love.”

You stepped into the station and grabbed a handful of the floo powder. “G’night,” you said with a sleepy smile, and cast the spell to transport you home.

Though, you realized with a nervous pang, it felt like you were doing the opposite.

Thank you so much for reading!

Comment if you'd like to be included in the taglist for the next part <3

taglist: @itisjustwhatitis, @carmenschemtrails, @karina-v20, @acourtofexiles, @meteora-fc, @l1nd3n, @just-some-random-blogger

[gigi-does-art]

Revealing my re oc here now!!!! My little guys <333333 I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH THEY ARE MY CHILDREN THEY DESERVE ONLY YHE BEST 💚💚💚💚 (i actively put them through the horrors-) Their names are Reynaldo Medrano and Eliana Aguilar, they are raccoon city survivors that Leon meets are rpd and they all traverse through rpd together! I love this little trio so much and I would love to ramble about them more on here at some point!

And also! Check out this art that @residentfurry made that includes my oc reynaldo!!! It’s really adorable and deserves so much attention <333333

(Also some general facts and stuff about them under the cut!)

Reynaldo Medrano:

-24 yrs old during re2

-Pansexual and Demiromantic

-El Salvadorian, he immigrated to the U.S. with his family when he was 11

-Middle Child, he has an older brother and a younger twin sister

-Worked as RPD and was planning to quit but decided to take one more shift and now he’s in the middle of an apocalypse

-He pretty friendly and easygoing, but can be serious when needed, he gets along with mostly everyone. However, he has a major distaste for authority, he hates people bossing him around or making him feel inferior. He just wants to be treated as an equal

-His love language is teasing

-His nickname is Rey-Rey lol, given to him by his twin sister

Eliana Aguilar

-3 yrs old during re2

-AroAce

-El Salvadorian, she was taken from her parents by Umbrella tho-

-Only child

-Was found by Reynaldo wondering the streets of Raccoon City during the outbreak after she escaped from the hospital in the chaos and later taken to rpd where they hid out until Leon arrived

-Reynaldo playfully called her Eli (pronounced Ellie if that makes sense lol) once to make her feel more comfortable and the nickname just stuck

-Is mostly shy and quiet in the beginning, sticks close to Reynaldo and Leon. Overtime, she opens up to them and becomes more relaxed

-Has an unexplained ability to produce and control fire, which is why she was kidnapped by Umbrella. This is also due to the fact that her fire abilities aren’t caused by a man-made virus (don’t know how to explain it but the gist is that it’s something in her DNA LMAO)

-She has little control over it at first, but learns overtime to use it to her advantage and master her abilities fully as she gets older

-She’s baby, I can’t believe I put her in the middle of an apocalypse LMAOOOO

(And some sketches of them! The catified ones are more recent while the third one is a couple of months old 😭)

[adrift-in-thyme]

He’s adorable your honor

[lovinggreeniehours]

OKAY. to the people observing, hello, i am awake now, good morning. ramble in the tags because honestly i still feel kinda wounded by yesterday but also now im embarrassed by the gravity of my reaction

[hauntingblue]

I think this flashback episode is very cruel to show us luffy as a child suffering because of the same thing current luffy is going thru. Enough

[bemuseing]

If someone told Descole that he had a mental illness, how would he react? / What if a close friend suggested it? / What if a professional made an official diagnosis? / What if a close friend or relative of his was given the diagnosis instead?

I am not sure exactly how he would react but considering this man and what has happened to him during his life I am pretty sure he would not be surprised. I think he's fully aware he has issues. (For the first option at least, the exact reaction will probably depend on the tone in which it was said.)

I tend not to go into named specifics of what my muses may or may not be suffering from (I'm not confident enough or knowledgeable + experienced enough to do that beyond offhanded mentions or hints here and there) but that doesn't mean there is Nothing Going On.

Honestly, I think he would give it credence no matter who said it, as long as they weren't saying it in a mocking way. He might not express that he's giving it weight depending on who's saying it, but he would at least evaluate it - again, he Definitely has issues and he isn't blind to them. If it's coming from a close friend or family member [even if his family situation is... complicated], he would give it serious consideration. A professional diagnosis would re-enforce that, although I can't see him seeking one at this stage for any reason.

I'm not sure being aware of it would change a great deal about what he does. He's not really a seeks recovery or help type of person, at least in canon.

As for the last option, I think again the specifics would depend on the person and the situation in question (mental illness is a very broad term after all). If it was his brother or his father for example he wouldn't be surprised at all. They ALL have issues. Traumatised the entire family. Overall though I think he would approach it from a fairly intellectual point of view (as in he's accepting of the fact it is how it is, and will try to understand, even if he can't relate or isn't well-versed in it. But he'll probably research it, then! Man is a nerd after all and when he cares he cares).

[vi-tamine]

Heyyyyy!!!

If you are up for it, I'd love to see you write a Silco x Reader Story🙏🏻

Reader was like an older Sibling to Powder, Vi, Mylo and Clagger, making sure the kids were always okay. So that day, when almost everyone died and Silco took in Powder/Jinx, Reader went with them to keep an eye on Jinx. They turn more into a Parental Figure over time for her. Reader and Silco hated each other at first but tried to remain civil for Jinx. Over time feelings developed and both are in denial. So basically Enemies to Lovers.

Also Reader takes care of like the Bar, since they have already worked there when Vander was still alive. [Either behind the counter as a Bartender or as like Security]

Idc if its Fluffy or Angsty or smutty or smth!

I just need more Silco x Reader🙏🏻😭

at home (silco x reader)

words: 1517

genre(s): fluff, angst (i think..)

warnings: none

n/a: im sooo happy!!! thank u so much for requesting me!! this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous about it! i hope you like it and enjoy it a little!! i did my best!! want to remember that english isn't my first language, so im sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes, but this also helps me to improve :]

You were twenty years old when it all happened. When Mylo and Claggor died and Vi ran away after all the tragedy trying to rescue Vander from Silco's hands. You were the oldest of the three sisters, always under your care, even though you allowed them some freedom for their “missions” you always kept an eye on your sisters, in case it was necessary to get them out of some trouble. 

That day, you went to help your brothers get Vander back, making Powder promise not to move from the basement. When the whole mess happened, you were barely aware of whatever was going on. One of your arms had been trapped under the rubble and you heard Powder's distant cries for Vi to come back for her. As best you could, you pulled yourself together, pushed away the debris over your arm and made your way to find the youngest of your sisters, the one that sounded closest. The crying seemed to be weaker, and when you looked up Silco had his arms around her as she hugged him, right next to Vander's lifeless body. You approached cautiously, brow furrowed at the whole unfamiliar situation. 

“Stay away from her” you addressed Silco with a firm voice and furrowed brows. He did so without complaint, looking at you, keeping his composure and probably waiting for a move on your part that never came.  Powder turned to look at you, her blue eyes brimming with tears. She hugged your legs, and before you knew it, you were both leaving with Silco and his people. 

Seven years later you decided to take Vander's place in “The Last Drop”. Silco “signed it over” to you while he took one of the rooms to be his office. You were a little grateful that he would let you carry on the legacy of the one he once considered his brother. 

You poured one last drink before Jinx sat down on one of the stools and rolled your eyes as you watched her turn in on herself. “Get your feet off the stool if you're going to be sitting here” you scolded her as you cleaned one of the glasses and poured her the juice she always asked for. “Thank you~” she thanked taking a sip from the straw. “I've been working on one of those grenades I showed you, and even though it explodes poorly, it's getting more and more powerful!” she explained somewhat excitedly as she looked at you with a slight smile. During all these years your sister had grown more than you would have liked. Sometimes nostalgia hit you, and all you could think about was how much older she had gotten and how rebellious and uncontrollable she had become.

 Mylo and Claggor's death and Vi's abandonment left some aftereffects on your sister. Jinx was the name she had decided to adopt after Vi called her that name before abandoning her to her fate without even knowing if you were alive. Together with Silco you had raised her, and although you always tried to take her on a healthy and untroubled path, she ended up paying more attention to Silco than to you. 

During all these years your vision of Silco was changing, and all the resentment and anger you had towards him, had been loosening when you saw the love and effort he put in wanting to take care of your sister. Your attitude towards him became more passive, and his attitude towards you became sweeter and more protective. You both had your sister, Jinx, as your priority. 

“Be careful with those gadgets or someday your finger will explode.” you joked with your sister as you leaned your elbows on the bar to look at her. “I do know how to build inventions, sis, not like you” she joked with you before getting a tap on her shoulder from you. You rolled your eyes letting out a light chuckle. “By the way, Silco wants to see you” he spoke as he rubbed his shoulder with a pout. You frowned and sighed. “You take care of the drinks for a while then” you stepped out from behind the bar, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Jinx hopped over the bar to tend to the customers and scolded her for it before walking up to Silco's office.

You felt your heart beating stronger and stronger as you got closer to Silco's office. Since a few days ago your vision of the man who had given (somehow) shelter to you and your sister, apart from starting to respect him, perhaps your feelings towards him had taken a different direction, a more romantic one. Every night you told yourself that it was wrong, if you thought about it, it was against your morals and principles to like Silco, so you tried to hold back that feeling as much as you could. 

You knocked on the door, and after hearing a low “Come in”, you entered the room, allowing you to see Silco in his chair as usual and Sevika next to him. They both looked at you, and with a slight gesture, Silco had Sevika leave the room, closing the door behind her. You sat down in the chair in front of the table, sighing and making yourself comfortable as you noticed how her gaze was fixed on you. 

“What is it this time, what has Jinx done to what-” you couldn't finish formulating the sentence Silco cut you off. “Your sister is out of jail” your back and your whole body started to bristle. “With the help of a Piltover enforcer.” You discovered that Vi had been arrested and sent to Stillwater. Seven years later she seemed to have gotten out. A confused feeling invaded your body. You were happy, your sister had been released. And at the same time you were filled with rage, she had abandoned you and your sister. Then came the feeling of guilt, you were the oldest, much older than them, and you had let your sister be arrested, you had not fought for her. You swallowed and immediately got up from the couch. “Don't let Jinx know. Not yet, at least.” you left the room without even looking or listening to what Silco would have to tell you.

. . . . . . 

Later that night, having just closed the bar and with only the music to keep you company, you finished putting the last chairs back on the tables and mopping the floor. Before you even went to sleep you decided to pour yourself a shot of whiskey. You sat on the freshly cleaned bar and, with your mother's favorite song playing in the background, you thought about everything. Your parents, your sisters, brothers, Vander, Silco, everything. The alcohol scratched your throat as you thought about how you were going to confront Vi at some point, what you would say to her, how she would be, how she would react to seeing who you were with. Maybe she would understand you if she realized you were doing it all for Jinx. Maybe she would martyr you if she knew about your feelings for Silco. 

“May I have some?” a voice from behind you shuddered. Turning slightly to grab a glass, you saw Silco planted behind you. You nodded wordlessly, pouring for him as well and watching as he took a long sip. He looked back at you. “Why the long face?” he asked. You laughed wryly. “As if you didn't know” you replied clicking your tongue. You didn't want to talk down to him, but your feelings at that moment were what they were. He seemed to understand, he didn't add a word.

 He set the glass down on the bar and one of your hands rested on your shoulder, lightly trailing down your arm. “She's going to understand.” he simply said. You shook your head, also dropping the glass and looking sideways at him. “She's not going to understand. She can't. I don't blame her. I'm a horrible sister.” you sighed. You felt like your eyes were going to release tears at any moment. You noticed Silco's rough hand touch yours, embrace yours with his fingers and with his thumb caress the back of your hand. You let yourself be touched. “We should have left, Silco. We don't belong here. It's not our place. I should have taken Pow-” you couldn't finish your sentence Silco had crashed his lips to yours. You couldn't even react when he broke away. You looked at him still dumbfounded. 

“If she doesn't understand, we're going to make her understand. But don't you ever, ever, ever say again that you don't belong here. You do. You belong by my side,” and when he finished speaking you couldn't help but kiss his lips back. Your heart had just exploded like a bomb, and Silco had detonated it. There were probably going to be repercussions, surely none of this was going to go well, but for the first time, when you were dancing in his arms, you felt at home again.

[cranberrymoons]

gone but not forgotten 😔 buck and tommy forever in our hearts. that time you went on a date to an Italian restaurant where Tommy tried to out buck to Eddie 10 minutes after buck realized her was queer 💐 the time buck got left standing on the curb with an uber splashing a metaphorical puddle of water in his face 🪦 that time Tommy kicked dirt in buck's face for getting him the wrong coffee 💔 that time Tommy refused to dress up for the bachelor party buck was hosting for his future brother in law 🕯️ that time Tommy helpfully reminded buck that his father was still alive when he opened up his heart about his relationship to bobby 📿 that time Tommy settled down to his slumber on buck's couch like Nosferatu sinking into his grave after calling buck a stupid iPad baby and telling him to go to bed already 🙏 that time Tommy was engaged to abby clark for 2 years and then dumped her and then called buck a himbo to his face and said abby went "a little insane" for dating him and also bought him lakers tickets for their six month anniversary despite the extremely well-known fact that buck hates basketball, which Tommy himself should know first hand considering they literally got together because of buck's virulent hatred for the game of basketball 🤲 all the Evans and refusals to call buck by his chosen name until literally the moment you were dumping him. Tommy Kinard. goodbye. 😭

[entitled-fangirl]

Devotion.

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!wife!reader

Summary: After the Battle of the Burning Mill, the reader is relieved to see Benjicot unharmed. The same could not be said for her brother.

Warnings: War, blood, death, murder, misunderstanding, cursing, harsh talk of women

A/n: This came from some dark place in my brain😭 Also the fucking PowerPoint presentation I could make on my differences in characterization between Benjicot, Cregan & Jace. Benji is the harshest out of the three obviously, so keep that in mind when reading. He's a lot more... crude.

Large italicized sections indicate a flashback!

Masterlist

.............................................

"Benjicot!"

The great Lord Blackwood turned at the sound, his face lighting up at the sight of his lady wife. 

He barely excused himself under his breath to the men he spoke to, briskly moving to her. He would run, but his heavy armor could never allow that.

He braced for her, catching her with ease as her chest slammed against his metal breastplate. Her arms wrapped around him, relaxation finally moving through her body now that he was alive and in her sight.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a hushed state, holding her firmly to him. "You shouldn't have come."

"The battle is over," she murmured against his neck.

He couldn't help a small grin from coming over his face. "Only barely. There is still much to do."

She pulled away just enough to look around, taking note of the bodies that laid across the fields, cloaks both red and yellow alike. "That's why I've come. To help where I can."

He sighed and looked over her. "That's thoughtful of you."

She hummed. "You're still bloody. Did it not end yesterday?"

"It did." He looked down at his armor then back to her again. "The blood does not bother me."

"Have you not even washed yourself?" She reached up and wiped a bit of blood from his cheek.

He gently pushed away her hand. "You fret for me far too much."

"Can you blame me for doing so? Look around. In another life, one of these bodies may have been yours."

Benjicot shrugged. "But it's not."

She sighed and pulled away, taking in the sight of the bodies. "What warranted such a killing?"

Benji bit his cheek. "Border stones," he lied through his teeth. "Just the border stones."

She huffed. "Men and their land. I'll not understand them."

Benji forced himself to laugh, a guilty feeling erupting in his stomach. 

…

"BRACKEN!" Benjicot screamed as he and his men neared. "Put the boundary stones back."

Aeron Bracken scoffed. "We didn't move them."

"Ah. Did they move themselves then?" He questioned. "Just rolled their way over so Bracken cows can fill their bellies on Blackwood grass?"

"The assize-"

"Fuck the assize." Benjicot stepped into Aeron's face. "And fuck you. This is our land."

Aeron grew nervous under Blackwood's glare. "T… This is Bracken land."

Benjicot's tilted his head, studying the man closely. 

Having enough, Aeron turned around and began to storm off, muttering under his breath. "…babe killer-"

"What did you say?"

Aeron paused in his steps, realizing exactly what he had just done. But he was too stubborn to step down. He turned. "Your false Queen Rhaenyra is a kinslayer."

Benjicot paused. "Your uncle declared for Aegon, did he?" When Aeron said nothing, he continued, "Well then, let me tell you." He took steady steps towards the Bracken as his anger grew. "Aegon Targaryen is no true king. Just as you are no true knight."

Aeron's hands shook but his voice remained steady. "Craven. Little. Cunt."

Benjicot couldn't find it in himself to be mad at that. He even took a step back and let out a hearty laugh. "The only cunt I know of is your sister's."

Aeron growled and drew his sword, pointing it at Benjicot. "You'll watch your words, Blackwood."

The men with Benjicot all flinched, hovering their hands over the handles of their own swords. Benjicot laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender. "What? I can't speak of your sister's love for me? Dare I speak of her willingness to carry a Blackwood's heir contently? Because she would. She takes me so well-"

"-QUIET!" Aeron stepped forward. 

He grinned and stepped closer, the tip of Aeron's sword only inches from his chest. "You wouldn't dare."

…

"Must have been quite a fight," she remarked as the two walked through the fields. They avoided the people who loaded a few of the dead bodies up to take them back to their families. 

"Aye."

She looked up at him. "You've been awfully quiet." She reaches up and brushes his hair back.

He sighed softly, trying to hide his guilt. "Only the wears of war finally getting to me. That's all. Perhaps we should go to my tent."

She hummed and walked on. "In a bit." Her eyes scanned the field, obviously looking for something. 

He had a good idea what she was looking for. Any sign of her brother. "I've grown weary, my love. As I'm sure you have." He reached out and grabbed her arm to try to stop her.

Not even looking at him, she brushed her hand across his chest before stepping further from him. "Only a moment, Benji."

He forced another sigh, keeping his nerves down. "You shouldn't be out here. Let me take you back."

"Benjicot, please." 

"I'm only thinking of you, girl. C'mon."

She turned in frustration. "Just a moment."

When she began to look eerily closer to where he knew her brother lay, he rushed forward and grabbed her arm. "Darling girl, stop this now."

And she did. Her entire body froze and a soft sob wracked her body.

"A- Aeron?"

Benjicot cursed under his breath. "You shouldn't look at this."

Aeron lay in the mud next to the small creek. A sword ran through his neck, blood staining his clothes and the little grass that he lay on. 

She felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her, or a knife in her heart, a tremor now in her hands. 

She spun around. "Did you know about this?"

"What?"

Her eyes watered, her jaw clenched. He watched her pick at her fingers. "Did you know about this?"

Benjicot ran his tongue across his teeth. 

She didn't bother to wait for a response, running to the dead man and dropping to her knees at his side. Her dress began to soak in the mix of mud, water, and blood. 

The Blackwood watched with an aching heart. He swallowed hard. "Y/n…"

"No." She brushed her fingers over her brother's face, pulling the hair back. She tried to ignore how cold his skin was. "No, no."

Benji dared to take a step closer to her. He couldn't stand to only sit and watch her suffer like this. "Y/n," he tried again.

"Why?"

His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, "Why what?"

She sniffled. "Why couldn't you prevent this?"

Benjicot felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His breath caught in his throat. "Do you think I wanted this?" He asked with a trembling voice. "I bled for our cause. War is unpredictable, and death has a way of finding its way into every battle."

Her fingers shook violently against her dead brother's shoulders. 

He forced a sigh. "I promise you I didn't want this. But he started it."

Her hand faltered. Her head tilted to look over her shoulder at him. "What?"

Benji bit his cheek. He shouldn't have said that.

"Benjicot. What do you mean?" She asked. "Were you there when it started?"

He couldn't bring himself to speak. He tried to, but his voice was gone, the guilt beginning to eat him alive. His eyes were set on the cold body. 

"W-" She followed his gaze, looking at the longsword that held her brother's body down.

Benjicot's longsword. 

Her head snapped back to him, noticing that he indeed was missing his longsword from its sheath. 

Her eyes slowly moved up Benjicot's entire body until she found his eyes. 

"You killed my brother?"

…

Benjicot pulled his sword out of a man's body, moving on to the next one. He was covered in blood, his armor starting to irritate his skin from the constant movement. But he hardly cared about that. 

His sword collided with another and he looked. 

"Take it back!" Aeron growled. 

Benjicot tilted his head, "Or what?"

Aeron stepped back and fixed his position. He looked terrified, but he refused to let it show. "Or I'll gut you. And I'll take my sister back."

"She's a Blackwood," Benji grunted. 

"She'll never be," the Bracken rebutted.

Benjicot's anger grew, pushing him to make the first real attack. He swung his sword with accuracy and precision, intent on doing anything to injure his opponent.

Aeron was quick, but he wasn't as accurate. While his dodges were good, he was only defense. 

So when he finally lifted up his sword to swing it in offense, Benjicot lifted his foot and kicked the Bracken firmly in the chest. 

Aeron lost his footing, falling backwards and rolling. He panicked at the cold feeling of the water that stood only inches from him. He groaned and tried to get up, but Benji was quick to keep him down. 

The Bracken reached out blindly across the ground, trying to find the handle of his dagger that had fallen from his belt. It was somewhere around here. 

There it was.

Benjicot caught his actions at the last second, pulling himself away before Aeron could cut him.

Aeron growled and sat up, getting up as fast as he could.

But the Blackwood knocked the dagger from his hand and tackled him back into the dirt, now straddling him. He bent down to spit in his face.

Aeron grunted and flinched. He tried to fight against Benjicot, but the darker haired man was beginning to lose his patience entirely. He grabbed Aeron's armor at his shoulders, picking up the boy's torso and slamming it into the ground again.

"I hope you're right," Aeron wheezed out.

Benjicot snarled. "What?"

"I said," Aeron said as he spit up blood from a tooth lost earlier. "I hope you're right."

Benji shook his head, "I don't care for final words and monologues."

"Then know this, Blackwood. I hope she does carry your heir. I hope you fill her with your seed over and over and over again." He laughed cruelly, looking up at the sky. "I hope the future of your house depends on a Bracken womb."

Benjicot slammed the man again. "Shut up."

Aeron looked him in the eyes now, using the last of his strength to get in his face. "I hope House Blackwood is forever tainted by the cunt of a Bracken. Your children will be Brackens."

"I said shut up!"

Bracken spit in Benji's face. "Fuck her well. I hope they look Just. Like. Me."

Benjicot felt something in him snap. His eyes glazed over. 

He stood and stared down at the man with no mercy. Benjicot pressed the tip of his longsword to the neck of his enemy.

"I hope that you're lost to time, Aeron Bracken."

…

Benjicot felt his heart break and splinter at the sound of her voice. His own was a whisper, "please, listen to me." He took a slow step toward her.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" She screamed. She began to sob violently as she threw herself over Aeron's body, grief truly hitting her like a wall.

He staggered back in shock. His jaw clenched, the urge to gather her in his arms and make her see the truth becoming overwhelming. "Listen to me," he repeated. 

"We were s-supposed to be the treaty," she muttered against Aeron's chest. 

"W… What? What was that?" Benji asked.

She sat up. "You and I. We were supposed to be the treaty. The thing that could have prevented this. And we weren't. Divorce me or kill me, but please. Please. Don't torture me like this."

He was beginning to lose his patience again. "Dear girl, you must listen to me. You must."

She shook her head. "I won't."

"Y/n," he grunted and stepped to her. 

"NO!" She held a hand up, as if the young woman could stop the force that was Benjicot Blackwood. "Don't touch him!"

He held his hands up, forcing himself to calm down. "I won't. I just want to speak to you."

"You've done enough, Benjicot."

"I know. I know what I've done is cruel to you, but you have to let me explain myself."

"Leave, Benjicot."

He huffed. "I won't. You're going to listen."

She pushed herself up onto her knees. "Leave," she spoke through clenched teeth.

"What?" He asked in anger. "You're not going to return to Raventree Hall with me?"

"Not by will."

"You can't be serious. You'd rather abandon our marriage, our home, then return with me?"

She wiped at her cheek, unknowingly smearing dirt and blood across her face. "My home was with Aeron. M-My brother is dead. I have nothing."

He took a cautious step toward her. "You have me," he muttered, the words like a vow.

"You never wanted me."

Benjicot's arms fell to his sides, feeling utterly defeated. 

The man was a valiant fighter, a formidable warrior, and four words from his wife made him feel utterly hopeless.

He looked out over the field, debating what to even say. His voice broke, "You know that's not true."

"You killed my brother. If you love me- if you ever loved me, you wouldn't have done this."

"It's not that easy."

"It is!" She stood up. "It is that easy! All of this," she gestured around, "Over the fucking boundary stones?"

"OVER YOU!" He yelled. "He dared to speak ill of you and you know I'll not have that!"

She felt a shiver move down her spine slowly. She looked over to Aeron's body. "Did he?"

"Darling," Benjicot tried to speak reasonably once again, "I am a dangerous man. It feels as if I fall asleep in battle and wake up covered in another's blood. I am no saint, and I refuse to pretend I am. But listen when I tell you that I am no liar." He sighed. "If he had let it go, perhaps he would still be breathing. But if defending your honor makes you hate me then perhaps it is worth it for I know I did what was right."

She was quiet for a long time, staring at the water. "Do you believe the old stories?"

His brows furrowed. "I'm not understanding you."

She looked up to him. "The weirwood tree. Do you believe that the Brackens poisoned it all those generations ago?"

Benjicot shuffles his feet, not sure what to answer. "I-I couldn't say for certain."

"And yet you still wear it on your chest with pride? Something you don't even know for certain?"

He looked down at his family crest and back to her. "It's a part of who I am. I can't change that."

She tilted her head. "Then don't expect me to either. You can love me or hate me, Benjicot Blackwood, but I am a Bracken no matter which way you twist your story. I cannot change my blood."

"Where are you going with this exactly, beautiful?"

She took a step towards him. "If you kill all of the Brackens in the world, it'll only lead you back to your own house. You shouldn't have married a Bra-"

"-Shut up," he ordered. 

She looked up in shock. "What?"

"I don't care what you are. I don't care if you're a Targaryen or a fucking toad. I do not care. You are mine, as I am yours." His eyes glazed over with a new emotion. "The rest of the world could rot for all I care."

She watched him take slow, deliberate steps to her until the gap was completely closed. He leaned in, his lips almost brushing hers. "I am addicted to you. I always have been."

She took in a shaky breath, her heart pounded in her chest. Only Benjicot had ever made her feel so alive. "I-I'm in love with you."

He paused, his eyes trying to read an emotion from hers. 

They had never said such a thing to each other. This was supposed to be a marriage for alliance purposes. There wasn't supposed to be love. There wasn't-

He couldn't stop himself, connecting their lips roughly with a low groan. 

He could faintly taste dirt on her bottom lip, but he paid no heed, pulling her closer to feel her body against his. "Have you ever felt this before?" He whispered against her. "Utter devotion?"

She let out a whine.

He kissed her again. "Fuck the weirwood tree. I'll worship you until the end of my days."

She tugged at his hair, making him growl with lust. He gripped her jaw easily with one hand, holding her firmly. He was never a cruel lover, but he was a firm one. 

"Tell me what he said," she managed to pant out.

"No," he hummed, beginning to kiss down her neck. His hand pushed her head back to expose more of her skin to him.

In the unyielding hands of the infamous Bloody Ben, she'd never felt safer. 

"I'll bury him for you." Was all the more that Benjicot said about it.

"Hard to jump your bones in all that armor," she whispered in his ear. 

"Fuck," He groaned. "Careful, Braken," he teased.

She pulled away and he instantly began to feel regret for his jest.

Her brows furrowed as she stared up at him. "Fuck you, Blackwood."

"Darling-"

Her lips pulled into a small smile and she began to laugh. 

"Don't fucking do that again," he exclaimed, grabbing her jaw again roughly. 

"You fell right into my hands, Blackwood," she continued. "The great Lord Benjicot, so gullible."

He pushed a smile down. "You're a cruel goddess."

"I don't think you mind."

He pulled her face to him, placing a heavy kiss to her lips. "You're right."

"Trust me, my lord, you'll be rewarded for your devotion."

His brows quirked up. "Will I?"

Her eyes flicked to his lips and back up to his eyes. "I can be benevolent when I want to be."

He groaned. "I'll worship you forever."

…

Only a year later, Benjicot held his newborn child to his chest, caressing the young boy.

The babe's eyes opened, revealing dark brown pupils.

Y/n cooed, "He looks just like his father."

Benjicot let out a breath he didn't know he was keeping. 

Aeron Bracken was wrong. 

Seems even genetically, Blackwoods were the dominant house.

........................................................

[itneverendshere]

you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker

i'm a sucker for these three dynamic 😭😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂

you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.

No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.

Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?

You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.

You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.

You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it. 

Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.

The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter. 

"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest. 

You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this. 

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.

He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.

He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?

Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.

"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"

Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."

"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”

He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.

“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.

JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.

“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”

He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.

You always do.

The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.

“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.

You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.

JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”

He arches a brow. “Free beer?”

“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.

 “But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”

JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”

JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.

You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.

Great.

He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.

But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”

He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him. 

You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.

Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.

You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”

Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.

Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”

JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face."

JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”

Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”

JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”

Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.

Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.

“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”

Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”

“How much I love you.”

JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”

Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”

Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"

JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”

“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”

Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.

His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”

JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”

But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”

Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”

JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”

“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.

Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”

You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”

Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”

“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”

JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.

Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”

Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”

You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? 😔

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by LikeMmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[sukunas-wife]

I wonder how would Yuji react to the news that he is going to be an older brother. Also, I'm just picturing little Yuji being protective of momma the entire pregnancy. He wants to look after his mom like big daddy Sukuna.

It took a while- and I mean this as in this ask was from January 😭 and I hate when I actually become active, my life decides it wants to pick up also

But 🤍🤍🤍

Yuji is confused but excited when you sit him in your lap and tell him, “Yuji, I have good news.” He just smiled up at you with starry eyes hoping you’ve gotten him another pet. “Yes?” “You’re going to be an older brother.”

His smile drops and he pouts for a second, “No pet?” You have to tell him no and explain what you mean by he’s going to be an older brother. The moment he learns his brother or sister is in your stomach he’s quick to stand between your legs pressing his ear to your stomach trying to listen and see if he can hear them.

“I don’t hear anything… it’s empty.” He pats your belly lightly with hand before saying “hellooo.” You have to hold back your laugh as you run a hand over his head brushing back his hair. “You won’t hear anything for a while. Maybe when they get bigger you’ll get to feel them kick and you’ll know they’re there.”

He nodded his face with a serious look holding his little fists, “They gotta get bigger.” You couldn’t fight back squeezing him in a hug and he laughed hugging you back just a tight.

Of course he forgets your holding his sibling captive in your stomach. Until, you’re out on a walk to the village and a man runs right into you and your swollen stomach while holding a heavy crate of fruit.

All he remembers was his dad holding the man by his neck with one hand, threatening to cut the man alive with the nails on his other hand and telling him since he felt generous he’d let him live for now.

After taking the man’s crate of fruit that he abandoned, you were already scavenging through it for something. Stopping only when you felt your husband stare and you smiled sheepishly at him. “What? The baby’s hungry.” Sukuna sighed, “But is it well?”

Of Course when you stood up holding a mango and patting your stomach, “Just excited, it started kicking the moment you yelled at that man. I get the feeling it’ll come to be another replica.” You scoffed with a smile before holding the mango to him, “Will you please?”

That’s when it kicks into Yuji, “I GOTTA MAKE SURE NO ONE HURTS MOMMY!”

He’s the incarnation of this c:<

Now that he’s seen his dad do it, in the palace the servants beware of Young Yuji. He once saw a male servant walking towards you with a knife, and with all his might ran at the man and tackled him screaming.

The servant man cut his own hand while falling, profusely apologising to Yuji for getting blood on his suit and for dirtying your fruit knife. You were shocked, staring at the scene before you dismissed the servant telling him not to worry about it and to tend to his wound while you sat Yuji on your lap. You couldn’t help but smile and hug your boy while he rambled on about how he showed that man not to mess with his mom.

After a stern talking too and explaining he needed to watch people before just running at them full force he understood his assignment. Even more when his dad called on him to “speak” with him alone.

In all honesty your beloved husband dropped a heavy hand on his head in a prideful way, his massive hand shaking Yuji’s head around while showing his affection. Yuji, who was used to it, was happy and smiling big. Then came his dad’s serious face. He sat Yuji infront of him on the floor. It was his father but he was still an intimidating man when he became serious.

“Yuji, I need you to understand that I may not always be around. As my son, my only son, my first born child, I’m going to trust you to take care of your mother and your sibling. You’re young, but I know you are more than capable of putting a few petty fools in their place. I need you to understand that I’m trusting you, not only with your mother, but my wife. One of the few things I would risk everything to protect, even more when your sibling is in its way. I don’t want you to think that I’m putting all of this weight on you, but there are very few in this world I trust, and I’m trusting you. Please understand how important this is to me, and how important it should be to you. Your burdens are mine to carry, your mothers are mine to carry, I won’t push my own onto either of you, but now I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I knew you weren’t capable or trustworthy.” Yuji sat there staring up at his dad, who was staring down at him. Yuji smiled brightly out of nowhere before tilting his head to the side. “Taking care of our family isn’t a burden.”

It was interesting for Yuji the more your stomach swole. He watched his dad kneel in front of you pressing his ear to your stomach tapping on it like it were a melon listening to see if it were good. Yuji became curious and wanted to listen also. It led you to laugh when he felt it moving.

He was scared, saying it felt like a snake moving around. And just like his dad he was smiling like a fool when your child would give a strong kick to their hands for tapping and bothering them so frequently.

Yuji thought it was funny how sometimes his dad would stand behind you and lift your stomach with his lower set of arms. And you’d always perk up and be happier. So, one day when he noticed you complaining and whining while rubbing your stomach and back he did his best to stand in front of you and push your stomach up so he could lift up some of the weight.

Of course you cried and let him panic, almost dropping the entire weight of your stomach, until you placed a hand on his head smiling at him with teary eyes. His scared face fell into a soft smile, you couldn’t fight back squishing his cheeks. “My sweet boy, you’ve been helping me so much.” Caressing his face with a soft hand he can’t help but smile wider, shrugging his shoulders up as he let out a giggle. Of course not being as well built as his father he was caving in the first five minutes which made you laugh as you sat down only to have him tuck a pillow under your stomach to try and help you. He stood there looking at you hopefully.

He was smiling big when you smiled down at him, placing a hand on his head, ruffling hair in a far more gentle manner. He loved your little head pats and head rubs, they always made him feel loved when neither of you could find the words.

It was a humid spring day, and you were currently curing your husband for not getting you pregnant in the spring so you could at least have the comfort of the cool winter on your skin when you were laying on your bed more than anything else in your final days.

Laid out on your back you had felt your child shift a while ago. The movement had disappeared not long after that, but you were certain you were going to be prone to peeing yourself if it didn’t stop pressing against your bladder soon. Still, here you were, hands in your stomach feeling your intestines grumble as the little bit of fruit you ate started to move and settle.

Yawning and stretching while arching your back relieved you a bit before you slid down into your bed further. The blankets and sheets had been thrown over to the side where your husband was just laying before he got up to bring you cool water. The sun was setting but the rainstorms had left the day and night humid in an incredulous manner. You cursed your husband for being a man who could walk around without a shirt in this heat.

To think all those months ago at the summers peak when you complained that you couldn’t and he stripped you saying of course you could, was the same day he had actually gotten you pregnant upset you more. You refused to listen to his reasoning as you laid there in your thin white under robes.

You remember Yuji’s birthday, a woman was killed that day because she was too eager to see your husband and you were walking around like a badass with contractions for 8 hours. Now look at yourself, whining at the heat as you struggled to sit up, Yuji not only had softened you but also his father who was currently walking in yawning while holding a clay pitcher topped with a cup. “I brought it.”

He sat beside you placing the pitcher on your night stand as he helped lift you up to sit. You both sat in silence as he watched you drink your water and whine about wanting to stand and get out of that hot room.

He helped you up supporting your weight on his side as you waddled the cold floors of your shinden zukuri. You both came across Yuji’s room, you laughed quietly as you heard him snoring through the door. “He’s tired, he’s been with me everyday for the last month doing everything now.” Sukuna hummed, taking your hand and squeezing it, “That’s our son.”

You smiled up at him, you saw the shift in his face as he smiled at you which quickly changed when yours did. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you when you heard that heavy trickle of water. Both of you looking down, you knew well enough what was coming next.

—- —- —- —- —-

It didn’t take long for your daughter to come into the world.

It took longer for a frightened Yuji to walk in and see his sister. He slowly walked into your side as his dad nudged him forward.

You cooed at your boy squeezing him into your side and rubbing his shoulder and arm in a comforting way. He leaned against your shoulder and stared at the bundle in your arms, pink hair, pale skin, little angry fists and pout as she whined. “She looks just like dad….” You laughed, accidentally jostling the child in your arms. Yuji smiled at you before turning to smile at his dad who had the same angry pout only directed at his words, “I DON'T look like that.”

You smiled and kept rubbing Yuji’s arm, “Do you want to hold her while she’s sleeping?” You tried to shuffle your way up the bed to sit before Yuji held your arm down, “I’ll take care of her mom, so you can sleep.” His bright eyed smile warmed your heart, as you did your best to guide him on how to hold his sister.

Sukuna was right there with Yuji watching him as you leaned back into your bed feeling the exhaustion weigh over you. You wanted to rest a bit only to hear Yuji’s small voice, “‘m gonna take care of you, I’m your big brother, I'll always protect you.” Through squinted eyes you could see Sukuna place a heavy hand on Yuji’s shoulder smiling down at him, Yuji was cooing and smiling at his little sister Anya.

Tag list: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

[landorris]

yes, and? | carlos sainz x fem! leclerc reader

part four to this

fc; sophia birlem

warnings; english is not my first language, 10 years of age gap (20 to 29/30)

taglist; @thef1diary @bigsimperika @shobaes @d3kstar @stinkyjax @the-untamed-soul @bibissparkles @judespoision

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, thedude and others

yourusername: played (and won) against a random dude

user1: party animal

user2: i wanna be like her

danielricciardo: going out without me i see

yourusername: next week danny

thedude: you were pretty wild last night, if you ever want a rematch just hit me up

user3: oh she’s living the life

charles_leclerc: stop going out

pascale.leclerc.355: let your sister live!

yourusername: you tell him maman!

your phone

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo,carlossainz55 and others

yourusername: red for ferrari podium in monza❤️

user1: okay mysterious man again

danielricciardo: oh i think i got it

user2: at this point just say it’s carlos

user3: supportive sister

user4: carlos liking again

carlossainz55

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and others

carlossainz55: had the best view in monaco, and it wasn’t from p2

user1: yeah they definitely got back together

user2: PARENTS

landonorris: congrats muppet❤️

carlossainz55: gracías lando🧡

user3: THE HEART COLORS OH THEY’RE SO DEAR TO ME

user4: carlos sainz leading the championship 🕯️

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername: felt cold during night in canada

user1: okay she has to come to spain

user2: carlos in the likes

carlossainz55: i could tell

yourusername: 🤓

user3: OMG CARLOS COMMENTED

user4: THEY’VE BEEN SOFT LUNCHING FOR MONTHS

your phone

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl and others

yourusername: told this little (not so little) guy i would hard lunch him if he won his home race so congrats ig (first pic his him looking at my feed waiting for it) te quiero mí amor ❤️‍🔥

carlossainz55: it was worth the wait

carlossainz55: te quiero mucho más

user1: we knew it

danielricciardo: i kept this secret for like two weeks and i was dying

landonorris: same here mate

charles_leclerc: you told DANIEL and not me???? I’M YOUR BROTHER

yourusername: i told lorenzo

charles_leclerc: LORENZO KNEW?

lorenzotl: ofc i knew

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and others

carlossainz55: just the bad bitch i pulled from being spanish 🌶️ je t'aime mon petit❤️‍🔥

yourusername: not the pics choice

yourusername: charles is going to freak out

yourusername: je t’aime carlitos❤️❤️

user1: WOW

user2: the difference between the posts is sending me😭😭

user3: is charles alive?

charles_leclerc: WTF IS THIS MATE

charles_leclerc: DELETE THIS SHE’S A CHILD

carlossainz55: belive me, she’s not

charles_leclerc: you’re dead

arthur_leclerc: this is my sister 😐

lorenzotl: don’t fuck up again carlos

carlossainz55: i won’t🫡

user4: her relationship with arthur is so dear to me

user5: i love how we all ignored that he won

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! Can you do one with emperor caracalla and what he would be like as a father?? I’m in a drought of carcalla fics 😭

Emperor Caracalla as a father

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of family problems, a bit emotional, kissing

info : Anon I love you thanks for the request, Caracalla is just such a ray of sunshine he's only better as a father ;) I hope you enjoy reading and sorry for not having a cover, but today was exausting.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything has always been ours, never his. He may have been the younger one, the one with the problems, the madness and the insufficient seriousness for politics, but that didn't mean everything had to be ours, did it?

No, it didn't have to be because where Geta was in charge of politics and dealing with the Senate, it was Caracalla whose position was used to provide an heir, a marriage to a princess only the best for the human gods. A marriage that didn't bother him a bit, he loved his wife with all his heart, from the moment he saw the golden dress, the jewelry but above all her loving nature was what had won him over.

His sun was at its greatest and the happiness of the imperial family was only surpassed when the priestess announced his wife's pregnancy...a pregnancy that would soon make him a father.

°Caracalla as a father from the moment he heard that his beloved was pregnant from him he cried, not breaking out of his madness for the first time and apologizing to her, ,,I-I...I'm responsible...as much as I'm happy...what if our child goes into madness?" a question he asked her kneeling, his head resting on her lap and his hands clutching her tunic. The moments in the here and now were hard enough and his condition touched her, her hand stroked his head and gently made him look at her, ,,Even if the gods are not merciful, Caracalla it is our child, our little one it would not change anything” she assured him and pressed a gentle kiss on his head.

°The months leading up to the moment of birth were up and down for all three of them, Caracalla getting more and more nervous, seeming to switch back and forth between delusion and his mind. His wife helped him as best she could, praying to the gods that it would not destroy him, and a Geta who took care of both of them. But from the construction of the nursery, the preparation for their birth and the cuddles, it was a time of harmony and love. Every day Caracalla put an ear to her belly laughing whenever he thought he heard something and helping his wife as much as he could, even Dundus seemed calmer and not too demanding of his owner as if they all knew what was at stake.

°The further her pregnancy progressed, the more excited he became, talking to her and his child as if it could already hear him, ,,Of course it heard us! It's a little monkey as often as it moves,” he said, kneeling in front of his wife, who was mostly still sitting or lying down because of her belly, not to mention the pain and discomfort. Whenever he saw the moving and kicking he let his hand wander over it with hers, ,,Just as excited as his father,” she said softly and gave Caracalla another reassuring kiss, giving her everything she needed, almost as excited as the child itself seemed to be...until the moment of birth.

°The late night was filled with screams, in the empress's room the midwives helping her as much as they could and outside a crying Caracalla whose worries were growing, ,,What if she dies brother? A child without a mother? It's my fault, my madness? The midwives will die if she dies” he mumbled to himself, pacing up and down, waving a sword only to throw it away, his brother's words barely calming him down. He looked as exhausted as his beloved when the door opened and he interrupted the woman, ,,Is my sun alive?” he asked ignoring his child and running to the bed, his hand seeking hers and only calming down when he saw her exhausted smile, ,,Yes...I'm alive and so is our little monkey” she said and the midwife gave her the little boy wrapped in a cloth. A little boy with his blue eyes and her hair, a little baby who smiled a smile that infected his father.

°From that moment on, he was smitten with his son, little Solis ortus, who everyone called Solis, from the Latin for sunrise. The little one was born with the sunrise and came from his mother the sun itself, he was the joy of his parents a little baby who almost always seemed too happy, ,,He is so loving...and not full of madness” Caracalla said and wiped away a few tears when he saw the now small child crawling on the floor and playing with a few small figures, ,,Yes he is perfect just like his father” his wife said and once again held his hand.

°The years passed quickly and even though the madness in him did not diminish, erupting again and again and more often, this did not even happen in front of his son, ,,Father is fine Solis don't worry” he pressed out and retreated to his chamber, where he could go about his business surrounded by swords and blood without hurting his wife or son or Geta. In the hours he was gone Geta took care of his nephew in the little free time she had to give the Empress some rest, ,,It seems there are often two to take care of,” she said, giving Geta a grateful look as she turned from her son to her husband.

°The hours with Caracalla were hours of grief and love, she held him through the madness, took the sword away from him and if he cut her, shouted at her or even hit her, she didn't hold it against him. ,,It hurts, but having you back with me again for sanity, with Solis, is more important,” she reassured him as they sat together leaning against the bed, his head against her chest, mumbling words to himself and he kissed her body apologetically and she held him. Before both parents slowly reappeared and took care of the little prince who was their pride and joy.

°Apart from the madness, Caracalla was a good father, the skills he didn't have in politics like his brother or the talent for music and writing like his wife, he made up for with fighting and wit, with understanding and love for animals. For every hour that the ever-aging Solis spent with his uncle in the senate, with his mother on the harp, he spent twice as much with his father in the arena studying and training the animals. Dundus belonged to Caracalla but Solis, at not quite ten years old, had a mature lion, the beast of a ruler, powerfull as a sun and yet always playful at heart. Solis would become the best of his parents and whenever Caracalla noticed that the madness was not in his son, he was genuinely happy and gave his wife a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @somepallings , @userchai , @ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous

[elicyypher]

i once held the sun — louis j. moriarty x f!reader

: afraid of losing you too, louis decides to push you away first. but things change once his brothers return. he finds himself doing everything in his power to try with you once more. what he doesn't know, is that, after his absence of three years—another presence, a little one had been budding besides you.

: okay i did not expect to stretch this out for so long 😭 i'm sorry for the wait, but here's your fic @crouchingapple :) when i first started this i didn't write it with the intention of writing this long, but i hope you'll like it 🗣️

: 4k+ words. damn....

: louis james moriarty x f!reader, angst, divorce, louis tries to win you back, mentions of death and terrorism, ambiguous ending. i think that's it?

if anybody asked what louis's deepest fear was, you'd—or anyone else really, joke about how it could range from 'finding suspicious marks in the laundry' or 'wilted greens in his cooking'.

but if you delved deeper past the high walls he puts up, looked at the core of the hollow space he could call his heart, it would spell one thing only 'abandonment'. for as long as he knows, he's been bestowed the gift of life, promoted by his brothers' protection. yet, has anybody, in all of the years of his life really asked him if he wanted this? a chance at life and once again?

"good mornin'...." your slurry voice pulled him back from his thoughts, well—most of them. some still lingered in the back of his head. on most mornings, louis simply spends a long time in bed getting ready to exist for the day. his existence is heavy.

the surgery that saved his life, then the protection of his brothers that lasted up until his older brother fell from the bridge and his eldest brother was prosecuted for the crimes that they all committed, that they all were a part of. why is he the only one left behind? why is he the only one that survives?

and yes, perhaps he should be grateful—but what use is a gift he does not want? what use is a life where his family isn't together?

"good morning, (name)." he pulled your body closer to him, embracing the warmth that your body provided. you were so soft early in the mornings, and felt nothing short of heavenly to touch and simply be with. "did you have a good sleep?"

"i did," you smiled at him—lazy and sleepy all at once. it was an endearing sight. louis vowed to protect you in his mind. no matter what it would cost him. after all, you were the only alive presence in the walls of this house. "did you?"

louis nodded. "more or less." and then the telephone rang.

he, quickly alerted, propped himself up on his elbows, picking the telephone that was on the nightstand beside him. both you and him knew who would call so early in the morning.

"yes.... yes, of course... alright then, i will be right there." he would answer back between every few pauses, the caller speaking between them. eventually, he put the telephone down and looked at you, shooting you an apologetic glance.

he'd planned to take the day off and spend the entire day with you, and with that in mind, you'd taken your day off at your job too. but duty calls. perhaps at the worst of times.

"it's okay, louis." you said to him, sending him an encouraging smile. with a hand gesture, you dismissed him. "i'll be fine. at least i'll have the day to spoil myself. you go on."

with furrowed eyebrows, he got off the bed, changing into his outdoor clothes. he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i'm sorry." he mumbled anyway. "i'll see you later this evening. i love you."

"of course." you answered back, although your voice was slightly tighter. monotonous. rehearsed. you both knew he was lying when he would say he would come home soon or anywhere around the evening/afternoon during job days. "i love you, too."

the door clicked shut.

"absolutely not." louis exclaimed, but you would not listen to him. he was feeling frustrated. infact, why should you? nobody gets to dictate what things you do or how you do them.

"are you even listening to yourself?" you shot back. you gestured towards his body, which was a bandaged, bloody mess. crime rates had risen after the fall of the lord of crime, and crime syndicates and organized crime would often fall into wars—with the M16 trying to eradicate the groups and ease the fear that had been simmering in the minds of the people of britain.

and this was the outcome of it—a terrorist attack.

"you can't go out there again," you were firm. it was one of the things that made louis fall in love with you. "not in this state."

"i have a job to do out there, (name). lives are at stake. it's dangerous out there. people are dying." louis huffed.

"i understand, i do, but you're not in the state to lead M16 right now. i have experience with this, i've done this with you and the others before. i can do this, louis. please. trust me, won't you?"

"it's not about trust, god— it's—" louis snapped his mouth shut. you shot him an inquisitive look, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something. but he didn't. how could he say anything to you at all? you were right. you were capable in every sense, you were smart, had a good relationship with everyone else.. it's almost like you were perfect for the job. he was just afraid.

afraid of something happening to you. to you, of all people. terrified, absolutely terrified you would leave him as well.

"well..?"

louis sighed, resigned and tired. he'd been out there for 24 hours. the wounds and the fatigue was getting to him. "alright..."

"i'm glad!" you squealed, hugging him (perhaps too tightly) and forcing a pained groan to leave his chapped lips.

the fluorescent lights of the emergency shelter burned into your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed. it's too bright here—too clean. too still. you can still hear the dull hum of the explosion.

that constant ringing in your ears, as if the sound had been carved into your skull. you can't shake it. it won't leave you. it's all you can hear. the doctor is speaking to you, but her lips are moving like she's underwater. the words don’t reach you, just echoes in the distance, hollow and thin. incomprehensible.

"can you hear me? hello? blink if you can hear me."

you look down at your hands, fingers trembling. the blood on your shirt isn’t yours—at least you don’t think it is. everything around you feels strange. the fabric feels sticky and damp, clinging to your skin. you're shaking violently. you can't feel it.

everything that was said was a low hum. the doctor spoke to her nurses in a quiet yet determined manner. "patient’s non-responsive. let’s check for any signs of head trauma or further shock. we may need a sedative or anything to stabilize."

the doctor waved a hand in front of your face. "can you try to hold my hand? anything at all to tell us you're aware?"

she’s checking your vitals, but you're not here. you're back there. in the smoke. in the chaos. among the dead bodies.

"(name)?!" your name was being shouted at the top of somebody's lungs. familiar, you think. there's panic in the voice. great horror and fear. desperation. hope. "(name)— where are you? (name)! please, please tell me where you are!"

you want to call out but your tongue feels heavy.

the new voice finally cuts through the static. you blinked and saw the doctor, her face blurry at the edges. her words slowly filtered in, but you didn't understand them. you see, but you don't register. the doctor turns to face a new face. it's louis. they exchanged a few words, he turns towards you and—

"thank god— thank god you're safe," louis was clutching tightly onto you, as if you would be gone forever if he let go. his face was buried into your neck, shuddering breaths leaving him. tears from his eyes pool down the length of your neck. "(name), i was so worried, i— i thought i would lose you.."

and suddenly it clicks. you're pulled back from the depths of your mind. and the memories come flashing in bursts; screams. crying. wails of injured stray animals. smoke. the rush of people, the press of piles upon piles of bodies trying to get away, the chaos swallowing them whole. you think you saw several people go down, but everything after that is a blur. there was no time to react, no time to process. just running. just trying to survive.

a tear trickles down your cheek. your throat feels tight. then more tears: an incessant waterfall that refuses to stop. the moment his hands touch you, something inside you snaps. the numbness, the disconnection, all of it shatters, and you feel everything all at once. overwhelmingly so. your body collapses into him, shaking uncontrollably. you don’t even realize your fingernails are digging into him, but you can’t let go. you can’t.

"louis— louis i was so scared, i— there were so many bodies. so much blood. so much gore," everything rushes past you like a broken dam. "i should've known! i should've done something! i should've been able to save all those people— i failed! i failed!"

"nonono— please, pretty, it wasn't your fault. none of it was. it never will be." louis says hurriedly, brows furrowed in worry. his breath hitches as he holds you, his own panic simmering beneath the surface — but he tries to stay steady for you. "oh, (name)..." he whispers, voice breaking. "shhh.. you're okay, you’re okay now, (name)… you're safe here. i'm here with you, shh..."

you should feel relief, right? you made it out. you're alive. louis is right here, holding you. but instead there’s this emptiness, this strange void where the emotions should've been. maybe this is what shock feels like. maybe this is just how it is now. you wonder if you'll ever hear anything besides this ringing again.

survivor's guilt is an all consuming thing.

you could have never in a hundred years prepared yourself for the news he dropped on you friday night. you knew he had been acting strange for some time now: tense, heavy and conflicted. but you certainly never would've expected this, of all. he was terrified. terrified of something happening to you, especially after what happened only a few weeks ago.

"mr. louis wishes to file a divorce with you," the lawyer placed the divorce papers on the table in front of you.

"what?" your tome of voice was sharp. unbelieving. the very notion of divorce seemed absurd to you. "divorce? please, i don't like jokes like these— where's louis? i want to meet louis."

"my client does not wish to talk to you, mrs. (name)." his lawyer looked at you, unfeeling and cold, as if you were some sort of unworthy pest. "all we require from you is your signature," he tapped at the lower end of the page. "....right here."

you could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. how could he? rage and anguish were a heavy combination and you, standing, had to grasp onto a chair to ground yourself. he didn't even bother coming here himself? was he ever such a coward?

after a rather lengthy talk with louis's lawyer, you finally relented and picked up the pen he'd passed to you. your tears had dried long ago. now all that remained was numbness. "fine." you said flatly, voice hoarse, and imprinted your signature on the paper.

"should we get more apples?"

"damnit, we've been walking around and buying things all day. this wasn't why i accompanied the two of you, ya know."

fred and louis exchanged glances amongst each other, then shrugged, nodding amongst themselves. louis had sworn to himself that he wouldn't return to this part of the city again, but the venue was already set and he didn't want to inconvenience his reunited brothers. "you're right... perhaps we have been buying a little too much."

"thank god for common sense," moran exclaims, sarcastic yet grateful.

"it's just... my brothers have come home after years. i thought we could have dinner together. like the old days." louis muttered.

moran slung an arm around louis's shoulder, to which the blond flinched, visibly annoyed—but held his tongue. fred smiled. the three chatted amongst themselves until moran pointed something out. "hey, wait.. hold on. ain't that your ex-wife?"

but perhaps he shouldn't have, because he watched the subtle, barely noticeable smile on louis's face drop, eyes widening.

there you were, after three years—strolling around the afternoon market as well. you looked more tired than before. aged. but yet there was still a smile present on your face. softer, but heavy.

"please put these in the bag as well.." "of course, miss."

what hit louis harder in the guts was when a little girl, not older than three years came rushing up to you and wrapped his little fingers around your index. "can we go home please?"

"alright, my dear," you ruffle the girl's hair a bit and smile down at her. "i'm almost done here, okay? and we'll go home."

the world shifted for louis. his pulse roared in his ears, drowning out the bustling sounds of the market. his heart was beating unusually fast. this child, there was something about her that took louis's breath away from a suspicion.

"louis?" moran’s voice broke through the haze, but louis didn’t respond. his gaze stayed fixed on you, on the child. your back was turned as you carefully handed the grocer another item, a calm smile still gracing your face, but your shoulders were tense—always ready, as if you were carrying something heavier than the bag you clutched. and louis couldn’t look away.

"fred—do you see this?" moran murmured, his voice hushed.

"she has a kid." fred frowned, stealing a glance at louis before muttering, "we should go. louis—" but louis stepped forward, barely hearing them. his legs moved on instinct, his heart in his throat. he'd practiced this speech several times, the apologies he'd say to you, the amends he'd make.. but now that you're all of a sudden infront of louis, louis's words fail himself too easily.

"(name)..?"

your name came out hoarse, like a breath dragged from his chest. you froze. slowly, you turned, the smile slipping from your lips as your gaze locked with his.

your eyes widened, then narrowed slightly, guarded. "louis." the girl tugged at your hand, looking up at you with innocent curiosity. "mom? who’s that?"

mom.

the word sliced a blade of guilt through his ribs.

"just... an old friend, darling." your voice was steady, but louis didn’t miss the slight tremor underneath. you smoothed the girl’s hair gently before straightening, pulling her just a little closer.

"is she—?" louis started, but his voice cracked, and he couldn’t finish. the question hung between you, heavy and unspoken.

"don't." you whispered sharply, the softness in your expression replaced with something colder. protective.

louis swallowed hard. "why didn’t you tell me?" you stared at him, and for a moment, he thought you might break—that you’d shout, cry, something. but instead, you took a steady breath.

"i didn’t know," you said quietly, your voice laced with exhaustion. "not until after." the weight of your words hit him like a freight train. he stumbled back a step, his hands trembling at his sides. three years. three years of absence. three years of her growing up without him. without knowing who he was.

"i—" he tried, but you shook your head.

"it doesn’t change anything, louis."

"but it does," he croaked. his gaze fell to the little girl now peeking curiously from behind your leg. his daughter. his daughter. his chest constricted painfully. "what’s her name?"

you hesitated, as though you didn’t want to give him that much, but you sighed softly. "amelia."

amelia. it sounded so sweet and delicate, and the ache in his chest deepened. she glanced up at him again, her big, inquisitive eyes so achingly familiar—his eyes. louis blinked, his throat tightening. "(name,) listen, i..." he said softly, desperately.

"please." you tensed again, fingers curling protectively around amelia’s small hand. "louis..." there was a warning in your tone, but it faltered as you looked at him—really looked at him. and for a fleeting moment, he saw the pain you’d carried, the years that hadn’t been kind to you.

"please, hear me out. i.. i want to know her. and you, again. she’s not just anyone, she's my daughter." he whispered, taking another tentative step closer. "and you—" he took in a sharp breath. "you're the love of my life."

"you mean to say i was." you hissed. "and where were you, louis? how can you be so shameful?" your voice cracked this time, tears threatening to spill as your gaze hardened. "where were you when i needed you most? when i thought i was alone? you left me. you didn't even bother telling me yourself!"

louis couldn’t answer. he could only stare at you with pained eyes, shattered by the truth of it. he knew you were right. he hadn’t been there. he had walked away. like a fool. like a coward. and now, he had to face the cost. you pulled amelia closer and glanced over your shoulder. "we should go."

"wait... please—" he choked out.

"goodbye, louis."

louis didn’t see you again for weeks after that day at the market, but it was as though his entire world had shifted. every second, every thought, every sleepless night brought him back to you and to amelia. he could still see her curious eyes looking up at him, so achingly familiar, and it only made the guilt weigh heavier. he had to see you again. had to try.

it started small. a knock at your door one rainy evening startled you, and when you opened it, there was nothing but a basket of your favourite fruits resting on your doorstep with a note tucked inside. "thought you might need these. - L."

you stared at the familiar scrawl for far too long before shutting the door with a sigh, leaving the basket there.

a week later, he showed up at the market where you often shopped, hands shoved nervously into his pockets as he watched you from afar. you noticed him immediately—how could you not?—but you ignored him, pretending not to care as you handed amelia a light bag to carry.

"mom? that man’s looking at you," she whispered loudly. you shot louis a glare over your shoulder, and he had the decency to look sheepish.

"he’s no one, darling," you muttered under your breath, though your chest tightened painfully when amelia turned to give louis a small wave. "but you said he was your friend." "not anymore."

and so it continued. louis didn’t push, didn’t demand answers or try to force his way into your life. instead, he lingered on the edges, trying to prove himself in the only ways he knew how. he offered to help when he saw you struggling to carry groceries. he left small bouquets of your favorite flowers at your door—nothing extravagant, just thoughtful. he even fixed the broken hinge on your garden gate one morning while you were out, leaving behind no trace but a silent repair.

you wanted to be angry. you tried to be angry. but as the days turned to weeks, that sharp edge you’d held onto for years began to dull. louis didn’t ask for forgiveness. he didn’t demand anything from you. he just showed up, day after day, carrying the weight of his mistakes quietly, trying to make amends.

then one evening, you found him sitting on the stone steps outside your door, soaked to the bone from the sudden downpour. you let out a deep sigh. "what are you doing here, louis?" your voice was tired, but not sharp this time.

he flinched, then looked up at you—hair plastered to his forehead, eyes softer than you'd ever seen them. "i needed to talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about," you replied, crossing your arms.

"please," he breathed, standing slowly. "i know i don’t deserve this. any of this. any of you, and her. i don't even deserve to be standing in front of you here right now. but i—” he ran a hand through his wet hair, words failing him as his chest heaved. "i need you to know that i’m sorry... for everything."

you stared at him for a long while, your resolve trembling as you caught the raw desperation in his gaze. "sorry doesn’t change what happened, louis. it doesn’t change the years we lost."

"i know, i know" he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "i know it doesn’t. but i promise— i swear i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, if you’ll let me."

you swallowed hard, unable to look away as he stepped closer. you didn't know what to say, nor what to do. "and amelia?"

louis blinked, his expression softening even more at the sound of her name. "i want to know her. i want to be there for her, for both of you. i don’t want to miss anything else. i can't."

you felt your walls cracking. "it’s not that simple, louis."

"i know." he said, voice steady now but quiet at the same time. "i'm not walking away this time. you don't need to take me back, just... give me a chance to prove myself to you."

silence hung between you, heavy and uncertain. part of you still wanted to push him away, to protect yourself from the pain you"d carried for so long. but the other part—the part that had never stopped loving him, no matter how much you tried—wanted to believe him. "we’ll see," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "that’s all i can give you right now."

louis exhaled shakily, nodding as though you’d just given him the world. and perhaps you really did. he ran a hand through his wet hair. you were the sun in his life, the most bright and beautiful thing in it. and because of what he did, he lost you. and he knows. he knows what he did wrong. "that's more than enough."

your heart was thumping in your chest. you weren’t sure what the future held as louis turned to leave, but for the first time in three entire years, you let yourself feel something close to hope.

louis didn’t take your "we'll see" lightly. in fact, he treated it like a promise. a mission. from that day on, he made it his journey to prove to you—and to amelia—that he wasn’t the man he used to be. afraid and insecure. he wasn’t going to walk away again.

it started with the little things, because louis knew you well enough to understand you wouldn’t be won over with grand, material gestures. so he showed up in the ways that mattered.

one morning, you stepped out onto your porch to find a neatly packed lunch sitting on the steps with a note: "thought you might have a busy day. take care of yourself. - L." you rolled your eyes, but this time—you took it. inside was your favorite food and a thermos of your favourite drink, perfectly made—just how you used to like it. it was louis's cooking, you were sure. it'd been years since you had that, and it made you a little emotional.

another time, you came home from work to find your garden neatly weeded, the flowers you'd neglected blooming brighter than before. when you asked your neighbor if she'd seen anyone around, she only shrugged and said to you, "a blond man came by. seemed determined to get his hands dirty. i thought you knew him. should i stop him if he comes next time?"

you paused, then shook your head. "no... it's okay."

amelia noticed too. "mom, who fixed the swing in the backyard?" she asked one afternoon, gleefully testing the sturdy rope. you didn’t answer, though you had a pretty good idea.

"i'm not so sure, dear." you said as you gave her a push.

then there was the day he showed up again, not watching you from afar this time, but waiting with two bags of apples in his hands. you gave him a wary look. "you’re still at this, huh?"

"what can i say? i’m stubborn," he replied softly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he held out one of the bags. "for amelia. i hear she likes apple pie."

"did the neighbours tell you that?"

louis shrugged, keeping quiet.

"and you think you can win her over with apples?" you scoffed, unable to hide your own smile. you took the bag anyway.

"no," he said quietly, holding your gaze. "but i"ll try."

then he'd take you out to lunch, dinner—any meal he could take you too. any time you showed interest in any particular item, next thing you knew, he'd be whipping out his wallet.

what broke you, though, was the day amelia came home from school with stars in her eyes. "mom!" she shouted, dropping her backpack with a thud. "guess who picked me up today?"

your heart dropped. “who?”

"that man who always looks at you at the market. uh—what'd he say his name was..? oh right! louis!” she said excitedly. "he said he used to know you and that he wanted to help you out today since you were busy."

your hands froze as you held onto the dish you were scrubbing, water dripping off your fingertips. "he... what?"

"he bought me ice cream too." amelia added happily, completely unaware of the storm that's begun building inside you at that.

louis showed up at your door that evening before you could call him. "you overstepped." you snapped as soon as you opened it, crossing your arms and blocking the doorway. but he didn’t flinch. he looked earnest, as though he’d prepared for this. "i asked you not to meet her. atleast not yet. why don't you listen? why don't you give a damn about what i think?"

"you're right. and i'm sorry." he said, hands raised in surrender. "but you said you had an important meeting today. i couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. she’s my daughter too."

"she could've stayed at school with the teachers. they stay at least until five pm. i would've been done by then." your chest ached, and you turned your eyes away from him. "you don’t get to act like her father just because it’s convenient now."

"this isn’t about convenience." he shot back, his voice low, but steady. "it's about her. it's about you. i missed three years, (name). three years i can’t get back, no matter how hard i try. but i am trying. and i won’t stop."

louis's words hung heavy in the air. when you finally turned to look at him, his expression was softer, raw with emotion. "i don’t expect you to forgive me overnight." he whispered. "you don't even need to. but i want to be here... in your life. in her's. as much as you'll allow me to. but please, atleast for amelia's sake.. please try to give me a chance. even if just a little."

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. then, quietly, you asked, "why now, louis? why does this matter to you so much?"

he hesitated, searching for the right words. "because i still love you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i always have. i was just too much of a coward back then. i.. i thought that if i continued to stay by your side, you'd get hurt. that something would happen again. i thought i had lost my brothers, (name). i couldn't lose you—not you too. never you."

you felt the tears sting your eyes, but you blinked them away. "but you did anyway. you lost me when you sent your lawyer to collect my signature on the divorce papers."

louis exhaled, furrowed eyebrows and nodding. "i did.. but i thought it would be much better than find you—" he couldn't even get the words out. so, he whispered. "dead."

"..." you paused. "love can't always fix everything."

"but maybe it's a start."

for the next few months, he took things slow, giving you space when you needed it, but always making sure you knew he was there. he learned amelia’s favorite bedtime stories and showed up to watch her school performances. he memorized your routine, leaving small, thoughtful surprises in his wake—fresh flowers on fridays, your favorite pastry waiting for you at the café. it wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t grand, but it was louis.

slowly, something began to shift. you let him walk you and amelia home from the market one evening. you let him sit with you on the porch while the little girl played. you even let him make dinner one night when you were too tired to argue. amelia beamed the whole time, delighted by the way louis taught her how to fold dumplings properly.

"he's nice, mom," she whispered later that night, curling into your side as you tucked her in. "and he makes you smile more too."

you didn’t have an answer for that.

the first time you invited louis inside on a rainy afternoon, he nearly dropped the umbrella he was holding. "are you coming or not?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

louis was flustered, he didn't know what to say—the colour pink coated his cheeks. "i... yes— yes. okay. i am. i'm.. i'm coming in."

when you handed him a steaming mug of tea, his fingers brushed yours, and for the first time in years, it didn’t hurt to let him close. amelia came rushing in from her bedroom, excited to show a clumsy drawing she'd made of you, her and him. he took a small sip from his cup, and picked amelia onto his lap.

"we'll see." you'd said months ago. now louis let himself believe that maybe—just maybe, he was earning his second chance.

@ELIASORCHARD — do not steal, retranslate or repost.