#mr motionless

[motionless-in-blue-socks]

THEY ARE SO CUNTY

[ominousmotion]

I feel like i need to let yall know if i ever get meet and great tickets for miw there is a 90% chance that i will address chris as mr motionless

[motionless-in-blue-socks]

I JUST FOUND THIS AGAIN AND I HAVE A QUESTION

WHY DID HE EVEN TAKE THOSE TWO PHOTOS BACK TO BACK???

this man

[whothefuckiskatlyn]

for when you’re making out covered in blood or whatever

[nomattertheoceans]

Never mind me, I am once again dealing with my conflicting feelings surrounding Mrs Everdeen.

[makncheeseuwu]

was listening to Cyberhex and got a brainblast.

Chris Motionless looks like a Borzoi.

chris motionless fursona reveal when?!?!? (/j)

[mariasont]

Negotiating with Mr. H - pt. 2

a/n: part two to this

god im such a shluuuut for this man anyhow happy reading

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v (DONT DO THAT, boo tomatoes), use of sir and mr. hotchner in bed, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, honey, etc.), idk im terrible at warnings

wc: 2k

The hours had stretched into days since you all but threw yourself at Mr. Hotchner. The morning after unfolded with him dodging your company as if you were a wildfire, claiming a day at the zoo with Jack as a shield, yet you saw it as a deliberate distance he put between you. No sooner had they returned, the call for a case arrived. Typical.

But you found no room for embarrassment within yourself; you had played your hand, and he had been receptive, at least so you thought. If he had changed his mind, that was within his right; still, you wished he'd say something about it.

Your fingers tenderly combed through Jack's hair, the soft strands slipping between them, as you gently closed the book, careful not to wake him. He had a nightmare, but you soothed away the scary bits with 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar', as you coaxed him back to sleep. It was his go-to comfort read--and secretly, yours too. You eased your legs over the edge, each step a muted brush against the carpet. You flicked off the light, the soft thud of the book on the nightstand, and you stepped into the hallway--the door sealing behind you softly.

You moved with soft steps towards your room, hands outstretched as they found the doorknob, pushing it open with the slightest pressure. You froze mid-step, the distinct click of the front door's latch piercing the silence. Subconsciously, a plan formed in your mind, as if waiting for this cue. You made a beeline for the closet, fingers flying as you shimmied into your favorite panties and a cropped white long sleeve that highlighting your stiffening nipples. Listening intently for the sound of his footsteps, you slid under the sheets, the door left invitingly open, your legs peeking out as if by chance.

Was this wrong? Certainly, but the blood rushing to your cunt didn't care. You were acutely aware of each groan from the wooden steps under his weight as he made his way upstairs, and you could almost catch the hush of his breath as he lingered at Jack's room, the door's creak broadcasting his quiet check.

You snapped your eyes shut, the sound of his nearing steps triggering an automatic response. You knew he'd have to pass your room to get to his. Every sense tingled to life as his footsteps hesitated at your door. Even with your back facing him, you felt his eyes roam over you, his breath turning heavy, hanging in the air.

You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling it vibrate through the stillness as he continued on to his room. The urge to swear was heavy on your tongue, the realization dawning that your plan had left no impression on him. You turned restlessly, feeling the bite of your failed efforts. Yet, when you propped yourself up, there he was--Mr. Hotchner, standing motionless in the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Hotchner! I--I didn't realize you were home. How was the case?" Your question floated on a note higher than usual, yet you made no move to hide your body from him, welcoming the observation.

"Really? You didn't hear me? I could have sworn I heard movement in your room as I came in," he remarked, his piercing gaze locking onto you as he casually propped himself against the frame of the door.

"Movement? Could've been the wind," you suggest, your smile bright and inviting, arms falling away to give him a full display of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

His response is brief, a deliberate blink, a silent count to ten, before his gaze sharpens, a frown forming as he closes the distance between you, the door shutting behind him. "The wind, huh?" he echoed, "I've been neck-deep in a nightmare of case, and this is what I come home to?"

You maneuver closer, your legs now casually exposed as you perch on the bed's edge. "What's wrong, Mr. Hotchner? Don't appreciate the view?"

His presence fills the space by your bed. "The view," he begins, his eyes taking a leisurely journey from your exposed legs up to meet your gaze, "is more than agreeable."

You hand snakes out, catching the silk of that god damn tie, drawing him closer. "Well. Mr. Hotchner, aren't you going to do something about this agreeable view?" you challenge, eyes wide and expectant.

Assertively, he captures your chin, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You should know by now, I'm very much a man of action."

He leans down, a predator claiming his willing prey, and his mouth captures yours in a kiss that sends a surge of electricity through your veins, your fingers curling into the fabric of his suit as if the meld him into you. The way his lips were attached to yours sent shockwaves straight to your core, hands moving from his lapels to his hair.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Hotchn--," you mumbled against his mouth, but you were swiftly cut off as his teeth dug into your bottom lip.

"The next time you say my name, it's going to be when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can't form anything else but that name."

And in that moment, you could've sworn you'd never felt desire until he said those words. He began to trail sloppy kisses up your neck, your head arching back, surrendering to the sweet attention he lavished upon the column of your throat. There was a quiet authority in his actions, as he parted your thighs, his fingers grazing closer to your clothed cunt as his other hand pushed you flat against the bed.

A gasp fluttered from your lips, a delicate sound of shock. You would've never pegged him to be like this in bed. So fucking demanding. Your thighs instinctively sought each other, but his large hand held them apart, keeping you open, vulnerable.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, wide and brimming with lust, and it reflected a beauty so intense he was sure it could halt time. He was sure he must've done something right in this life to be privileged enough to see you like this—so submissive despite your big talk, so eager to please. It sent a rush to every part of his body, specifically his cock which stretched against his dress pants, begging to be released.

He wanted to take his time, to worship your body in the way it deserved, but there was nothing slow or soft about his movements. His hands explored every inch of your body as if he'd been touch starved his whole life.

"Pl-Please, sir, please touch me," you begged, your hips bucking against the graze of his hands.

The word 'sir' triggered a slight twitch in his cock, his voice a throaty rumble. "Feel that? I'm touching you, honey," he teased, his touch a tantalizing drag against your skin, inching your shirt upward, a smug smile etched on his handsome face.

"You know what I mean," you insisted, your hand intertwining with his in a silent plea, guiding them to where you wanted.

"I can't read your mind, sweetheart," he chides softly, his touch retreating teasingly, "be a good girl and tell me where you want me to touch you."

Your mind was going blank, so desperate for him you could almost feel your arousal leaking down your thighs.

"Here?" he questioned, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he propped them on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs spread wide in front of him. You shook your head in response, a whine leaving your lips, "or here," he said, his hands moving up to your thighs.

You wiggled in his grip. "Mmm, getting closer aren't I?" he taunted, "use your words pretty girl, tell me how to help."

"Mr. Hotchner, please, need you inside me," your words were more slurred than you intended, sitting up to lock your hands behind his neck, your breath fanning his.

"You don't need it, you want it," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his arm a steady band across your back, pulling you closer. "However, lucky for you, I'm inclined to be generous."

His hands eased you back towards the bed, your hands fingering through his hair as he made quick work with your underwear before tapping your shirt. "Take this off honey."

Without hesitation, you complied, flinging it carelessly to the bed's opposite edge, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

 "God, you're so beautiful."

The words seemed to empty your lungs of air, your face turning a delicate shade of pink as you beamed at him, your smile sticky with sweetness. His fingers found your nipples, teasing and tugging as you let out soft little whimpers, arching into his touch.

"Feels so good, sir," you moaned, hands digging into the sheets, leaning towards him to close the distance between you two, your lips seeking his in a tender collision.

You could sense his mouth curve into a silent smirk against yours as his hands moved with unhurried intent to your swollen clit, eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as you writhed on the mattress. You could hear his other hand undoing his belt as his continued his leisurely movements against your cunt. In a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled out his cock from his pants.

Your mouth parted slightly at the length of it, and you had to fight off the urge to drool at the sight. Thankfully he didn't make you beg for it, sliding into you with an ease that made your head fall back against the mattress.

"Shit," he hissed, his hands finding a natural perch upon the gentle swell of your hips. "You're so wet, honey. How long have you wanted this? Hmm?"

"S-So long," you muttered, a moan pausing your sentence, "wanted you for so long."

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, his words interlaced with the obscene sound of his length pounding in and out of your drenched pussy. 

"Feels so good, Mr. Hotchner."

He let out a soft groan in response, his hands tangling through your hair. Your name rolled off his tongue as you clenched around him. He had to move his hands to the bed beside your head, trying to resist the urge to absolutely destroy you.

Your moans heightened with each thrust causing his hand to fly over your mouth, eyes rolling back to your head. "Need you to be quiet, honey. You can do that for me can't you?"

You nodded desperately against his palm, hands reaching out to close around his shoulders as you moved to meet his thrusts, the familiar coil beginning to wind in your core.

"I know you're close, sweetheart. Need you to hold on just a little longer."

He let out a breathy chuckle at your body's reaction, desperately bucking against him. Hotch revealed in the sound of your pussy squishing around him, so wet you're practically soaking his dress pants.

Your slur his name as he reaches between you, his thumb rubbing feverishly at your clit. "Go ahead, honey, cum for me."

His words were all you needed, gushing around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your high. He let out a strangled groan of his own, pumping you full of his cum. His large body slumped against yours, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.

He slowly lifted off of you, tucking his cock back into his pants as moved to grasp your ankle, rubbing comforting circles over the skin.

"Tell me, was that personal bonus sufficient for you?"

Your giggle, light and airy, filled the space as you gingerly lifted yourself, hands laying a gentle claim on his chest, your smile blooming across your lips. It was in this moment he knew he would do anything to keep you like this--content, utterly fucked and next time in his bed.

"Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Hotchner," you admit, your kiss on his cheek lingering a moment longer. "I work really hard around here, maybe another round would satiate me."

"I don't know think anything would satiate you, honey."

"Maybe so, but isn't it tempting to see if something can?"

"Undoubtedly."

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch

[vxnuslogy]

— a reason. ft aventurine

— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest

— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.

‘everything happens for a reason.’

aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.

if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?

aventurine hated not knowing the reason.

“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”

what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.

“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.

“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”

the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.

“let's be good friends.”

—

working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.

honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.

but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.

overall aventurine was a good boss.

today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.

his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.

you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.

“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.

“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.

she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.

“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”

“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”

ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.

“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.

“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”

once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.

“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.

you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”

when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.

“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”

frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”

“is that the reason why you're here now?”

you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.

“let me ask you another question.”

letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.

“do you like working under me?”

the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.

“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.

“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”

“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.

“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”

“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”

“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”

“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”

something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.

“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”

and just like that, the office door clicked shut.

—

“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”

aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.

after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.

aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?

the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.

he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.

what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.

when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.

when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?

when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?

it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.

and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?

it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.

“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”

he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.

why did he have to go through this?

and then you did something out of the ordinary.

the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.

“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”

then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.

aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.

“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.

aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.

the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:

“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”

and you simply nod in understanding.

you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.

even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.

“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”

he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.

picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.

“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”

—

it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.

topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.

“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.

“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”

roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.

“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”

jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.

“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”

you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.

“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”

“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”

you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.

this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.

how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.

how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.

or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.

but what you were most sure of was:

“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[mindmelter]

Offspring

I am standing on the side of the bed as I watch my neighbor's youngest son, Devon, wake up his equally hot dad by sticking his tongue inside his mouth. Mr. Bennett struggles and shakes his body as his alien-possessed son infects him with the alien parasite.

Mr. Bennett is fit, but he doesn't have a chance against his much more muscular youngest son. Seeing my hot neighbor's son helping me turn his dad into an alien host is getting me so hard! I pull down Mr. Bennett's shorts so I can finally see his bulge from closer. His bulge is as big as I was expecting, and the fact he is wearing white underwear makes it a lot hotter, the urge to sniff that man's bulge grows stronger at each passing second that I stare at it.

While I hear the slurping noises coming from their passionate "kiss" I bury my face in Daddy Bennett's bulge and take a deep sniff while I hear the wet sounds of the parasite forcing its way down his throat.

With my face still buried in his cock and balls, I look up and catch a glimpse of the parasite sliding from Devon to his dad's mouth; The snake-like parasite is quite long and very thick, so thick that Mr. Bennett's throat bloats with the intrusion. I bury my face even deeper in his massive bulge, licking it over the fabric. I can't wait to have them both as my alien-possessed sex slaves, I think to myself.

Devon finally detaches his mouth from his dad and I watch the parasite's tail wriggle and disappear inside Mr. Bennett. I can't hold it any longer and pull down his underwear. I look in awe at how beautiful Mr. Bennett's cock and balls are; his balls are huge and heavy, and even while soft, his cock is big and thick, but he won't be soft for much longer. I took his big cock into my mouth and started to feel the member grow to its full length. Devon just continues standing on the side with the same slack and empty face he has since he was taken over, totally unbothered by the fact I'm blowing his dad.

With my mouth full of Mr. Bennett's cock, I have a great view of his stomach, and I witness something amazing happen; his belly starts to bloat, and I can see what is obviously the parasite wriggling inside him, doing something to him. I put my hand on top of his stomach and felt the alien moving inside.

I had seen the same thing happen with Devon when I put the parasite in his agape mouth while he was sleeping on the couch downstairs. But after a few minutes, his belly went back to normal, and he stood up with a blank facial expression; he didn't say anything and just stood up and took the stairs toward his dad's bedroom. I followed right behind him.

Now that the parasite has left Devon, he is left motionless like a robot without battery. I see Mr. Bennett's stomach slowly going back to normal and he finally wakes up, sitting on the bed while I am still latching on his cock. I feel his hand on the back of my hair, and he gently pulls me away; he has the same empty look on his face that Devon has. And without saying a word, Mr. Bennett gets off the bed and kneels in front of Devon, pulls down his shorts, and takes his son's cock into his mouth.

The sight is nothing but breathtaking. After a few seconds of blowing Devon, he stands up, now both of them sporting a hard-on. Mr. Bennett stands close to his son, close enough for their cocks to be aiming at one another. Leaving only a few inches apart from each cock head. Then what happens next is something I will never forget. A small black parasite—a lot thinner and smaller than the one I helped inside Devon—crawls out of Mr. Bennett's piss slit and makes its way inside Devon's cock.

Both of their eyes roll back and they shook while still standing, the parasite connecting them both by their cocks. When the tail disappears inside Devon's slit, Devon finally comes back to life; though 'life' might not be the right word since he still has the same blank expression, at least he is moving again. Devon and Mr. Bennett stare directly at each other for a few seconds, then they smile at each other—only those smiles were nothing but human.

Mr. Bennett slowly raises a hand, and Devon mimics him; then Mr. Bennett tilts his head, and Devon does the same, they continue going on like this for a while. I'm not sure what is happening; it's like they are connecting somehow. Whatever that is, it's an eerie sight, I must admit.

After playing that game for a few more minutes, they walk out of the room without saying a word, with Mr. Bennett leading the way. Their cocks swung and throbbed with each step, and I was no different.

Mr. Bennett stops in front of a room and slowly opens the door; inside is his oldest son, Matt, who is sleeping peacefully in only his underwear.

Matt is as hot as his dad and younger brother, with him being the most muscular of the three. Mr. Bennett and Devon walk toward him, but only Mr. Bennett starts jerking off over Matt's sleeping body; soon, he shoots a tiny black parasite from his cock, identical to the one he infected Devon with.

The tiny parasite crawled towards Matt's crotch and disappeared inside his grey underwear. I watch Matt suddenly squirm on the bed and grunt in discomfort; The way his muscles flexed during the takeover was making me leak.

When Matt woke up, he was already one of them. He stood up with an emotionless face and stared at his dad and brother; those two still had creepy smiles on their faces; seeing that, Matt also started smiling.

I really don't get the smiling thing, do they think that would make them look more human?

Still smiling, Mr. Bennett raised his right hand and waved at Matt. "Good morning, Matt." He says. It is the first time I hear the alien speak with his vessel, and he sounds just like you would expect: robotic and emotionless.

"God morning Dad," Matt replies, the smile never leaving their faces.

"Did you sleep well, son?" Mr. Bennet asks naturally, as if he isn't naked with his cock throbbing in front of both his sons.

"I slept wonderful, Dad."

"Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?" Devon asks, his tone of voice no different than his dad and brother. There is a long silent pause, and then Devon asks again, "Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?"

"Good morning younger brother. I slept wonderful," Matt responds and then they just keep smiling at each other like idiots. Everything looks and sounds so creepy and surreal, it's like watching aliens playing with human dolls about how they think human interactions are.

I decide to try something risky, so I step into their circle and the three of them look at me in sync, their blank eyes confused as they tried to study my presence.

I clear my throat and wave at them. "Hi, I'm the neighbor, I'm the one who let those parasitic aliens turn you three into brainless hosts."

"Oh, Welcome neighbor," Mr. Bennett says, waving back at me.

"Good morning Neighbor," Matt says, out of nowhere.

They didn't acknowledge anything I said; It's like they don't understand what I say and just mimic anything they find in their host's memories.

Either way, it was hot to see these three hunks acting like brainless idiots. I pull down my shorts and start jerking off in front of them; as I was expecting, each one started to mimic me. Mr. Bennett is the first to grab his cock and start to stroke, his sons, seeing their dad—leader—start mimicking him. Now, the four of us are jerking off, our strokes are so in sync that it feels like I'm stroking in front of a mirror. They mimicked even my moans, soon I started to cum, and so did they.

"This is going to be so much fun," I moan.

"This is going to be so much fun," they say.

[jymwahuwu]

Interactive Story:

If you transformed into a bird and were discovered by Sunday

cw: birdcage description, yandere not mentioned in this chapter but possible in the future. please read with caution.

reader setting: You and Sunday have always been political enemies and rivals. You argue with each other in The Family meetings.

previous part

→ "try to become human again"

Like a rising thermometer, anger, anger, anger- the red liquid inside you is boiling, occupying, desperately searching for clues and ways to become human again, but finding none. As soon as you open your eyes, you turn into a little bird, after all. The world becomes wider in the bird's eyes. Perhaps awareness is the point? You are preoccupied with the idea of ​​"becoming human"…

But in Sunday's eyes, you are just a motionless bird, as if you are concentrating on something. There is an inexplicable cuteness. "Aren't you going to resist?" The leader of the Oak family wrapped his fingers around your wings, avoiding your wounds, and rubbed your round belly through the wings. If a bird's cheeks could heat up with shyness, you'd be hot right now. What a bastard! He can even harass a small bird! You pecked his fingers in retaliation, but your legs were off the ground the next second.

Sunday held you in his hands as he walked, observing you. You struggled to flap your wings all the way and chirped like he was committing a crime robbing birds. You'd think people would stop Sunday's "criminal" behavior, but other members of The Family were just watching quietly, smiling mysteriously, whispering to each other.

What a moral decline!

You huffed and fell silent. As if the young leader understood the meaning of your actions, a burst of laughter rose from his throat, and he rubbed your little head again. He… is he laughing at you? Lord Xipe, do you see this? He is truly insufferable!

This is not the first time you have entered Sunday's office, but every time before you ran in and quarreled with him before running out. This is the first time you notice the layout of his office. The smell of juniper berries. The cabinets are filled with heavy, thick books. And the light from the sun shining through the colored windows. He opened one of the lockers. You stared at him with your little eyes like a hawk, and you were relieved to find that the bottle of strange blue liquid was a potion.

"Be good, don't move."

Sunday skillfully stopped the bleeding on your wound and then applied the medicine. You bit your mouth, the wings of your wings swaying. Chirping in anguish. He took a new potion and sprayed it on the injured area to finish.

"…There, there. It's okay now…"

You hummed softly inwardly and looked away.

Knock- knock.

"Come in." Sunday responded with his usual elegant smile. You absentmindedly looked to see who it was, but you were so frightened that your pupils trembled.

That's your subordinate, your assistant.

"Mr. Sunday." He gasped with some embarrassment and anxiety. "They- they're missing. It's been over 20 system hours without any trace."

"No response even to private contacts?" The representative of The Family raised his eyelids at this moment, with a hint of disappointment and gloom in his tone. "I thought you were the person they trusted most."

"No - no, Mr. Sunday, you know that my allegiance is always only to you." He put his hand on his chest and bent towards him. It’s like the world has turned into an obscure suspense novel. You are stunned.

He glanced at him twice more, with unknown emotions rolling in his eyes, before giving the order. "Go search immediately and inform the Bloodhound Family that a senior member of the family is missing. We cannot let them encounter any danger."

"Yes." Silence returned to the room. You were still in shock at being betrayed by your subordinates, and you didn't even notice that Sunday had opened the cage.

You are locked up, in a birdcage.

He observes you from outside the cage. He asked. It's like asking for your opinion-

"You stay here now, okay?"

[blueblossomrose]

I am absolutely IN LOVE with your twst parents series! The thought of seeing my boys getting their happy endings is so 😭😭😭

Can I please have more of Idia with his son 🥺 (I loved that his name is Orpheus, my heart fan of greek mythology 🙈

Thank you so much for the kind words! 😭 When this series started I expected it to have absolutely no repercussions, so when I saw the number of notes I was like 🤯

Of course, let's have dad Idia <3

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: fem!afab!mc, post-canon, family relationships, fluffy.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

When MC said she was pregnant, Idia fainted. Yes, his body went straight to the ground, motionless.

MC was like: 😨

When he woke up, it wasn't any easier to deal with the news.

He was scared and nervous above all else. The thought of not being a good dad, or worse, being a bad dad, was eating away at him inside.

After all, how can a damn nerd who works with computers all day like him be a good father? — yeah, he offended his own father by saying that and soon corrected himself.

MC continued to comfort him throughout this time. Of course, he would make mistakes at some point, nobody is perfect. But the important thing was to learn from the mistakes and love the child with all his heart.

He already love this child. He didn't know how to explain the feeling, of how he loves someone who hasn't even been born yet.

He would often talk to MC's belly at night, when she was already asleep. If she ended waking up, he would immediately get up, red with embarrassment, the tips of his hair slightly pink as he stammered an excuse. MC would just laugh and tell him to go back to talking to the baby, which he did after some hesitation.

After he held Orpheus in his arms for the first time, all his fears momentarily disappeared as if by magic.

He looked at MC, and then at Orpheus... and a tear of happiness fell. He never thought he would be allowed to have such happiness... but here he was. Having his happy ending from the fairy tales he read to Ortho when they were children.

He works hard to simply be there for you and the baby. He was like this before you were even pregnant, but the birth of Orpheus made him work even harder for this.

As Orpheus grew up, Idia began to trying teach him one of his hobbies: video games.

"Trying" is the key word. Idia acknowledges that he is not so good at explaining things that come so easily to him. But at least Orpheus seems to understand his father's quick thinking, even at such young age.

Idia soon realized that Orpheus took after his mother as the boy showed more of his personality.

Orpheus is an extroverted child, completely different from Idia, which left him slightly confused but not exactly surprised.

Orpheus definitely takes after Mrs. Shroud, Ortho, and MC's side of the family.

This difference between dad and son often causes comical and adorable scenes.

For example, once in a restaurant, when Idia's order came out wrong and he didn't want to go and change it at the counter. So, a nine-year-old Orpheus took his father's hand and dragged him to the counter, and then he went to the attendant and said:

"Excuse me, sir. My dad's order came out wrong. He asked for no salad. My mom said that dad is introverted, so let me say what he need, please."

Idia was behind, and he didn't know if he was embarrassed, or proud of Orpheus. Possibly both.

[motionless-in-blue-socks]

wake up babe, another NPC chris picture just dropped

[thedemoninme141]

You deserved better. (A one-shot request I got from anon)

Summary: Wednesday attends a wedding... your wedding.

Parings: Wednesday X Female Reader.

Warnings: Angst! ABitOutOfCharacterWednesday! Sad ending [Your spouse's name is mentioned as S/L/N.]

"You're brooding." "I do not brood," Wednesday replied, her tone clipped and dismissive. "I observe." Bianca smirked. "Or maybe you're just wallowing in your own feelings."

Wednesday’s nails dug into the edge of her chair, but her face remained as impassive as a tombstone. “You presume too much, Barclay.”

“She once meant something to you, back in Nevermore.” Bianca said, cutting through the veil of denial Wednesday tried so hard to weave.

“She still does,” Wednesday snapped.

Bianca blinked, momentarily taken aback by the aggressive honesty. Then, with a softer tone, she asked, “So why did you let her go?”

Wednesday didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she allowed her gaze to linger on the crowd—on the mundane joy etched across their faces. Her fingers tightened in her lap. “I had my reasons,” she said at last, her voice devoid of emotion.

“You know,” Bianca continued, her tone almost contemplative, “Though I would've never admited this back in Nevermore, I’ve always admired you. You were excellent at everything you did, Wednesday. You won anything you wanted to win. And yet…” She paused, letting the words hang heavy between them. “You didn’t get the girl.”

The doors opened, and there you stood, your wedding gown glowing as if it had captured the very essence of the sun. Enid was beside you, with her bright smile, but Wednesday didn’t see her.

Her gaze was fixed solely on you.

You were breathtaking, a vision of happiness and love—everything she had convinced herself she didn’t need, didn’t want. Yet now, watching you, she felt the full weight of what she had lost. Your gaze swept across the guests, and Wednesday’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. It was only a fleeting moment—a glance, really—but it was enough to send her spiraling. The warmth in your eyes wasn’t for her; it hadn’t been for a long time. Still, she held onto it, even as you looked away, your focus now entirely on the person waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

As the ceremony began, Wednesday forced herself to remain still,

Wednesday told herself she had no right to feel this way. You weren’t hers anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time. Still, she couldn’t stop her mind from going back when you were...hers. She remembered the way your fingers used to thread through hers, the way your smile softened her sharp edges, the way you looked at her like she was your entire world.

Now, someone else had that.

The vows began. She forced herself to listen,

“I promise to love you in every season, through every storm,”

It should’ve been her standing beside you, holding your hand, making promises she would have gladly kept till the end of the world. But she had chosen her pride over vulnerability, her fear over love. And now she was paying the price.

When you kissed your partner, sealing your vows, the room erupted in applause and cheers. Wednesday remained motionless, her hands refusing to move.

And so, she stood on the balcony during the reception, alone, she’d told herself it didn’t matter. That she didn’t care. But the knot in her stomach and the ache in her chest told a different story.

Footsteps approached, soft yet purposeful. Wednesday didn’t need to look to know it was you. She could sense your presence even through the darkness of hell. She straightened her posture, smoothing her dress as if preparing for battle.

“Wednesday,” your voice broke the silence, tentative and soft. It was the same voice that once whispered secrets into her ear, that once spoke her name like it was sacred. Now, it sounded like a dagger.

She turned to face you, her expression as impassive as ever. “Mrs. S/L/N,” she greeted, her tone as sharp as the blade she kept hidden in her boot.

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by her formal address. You didn’t correct her, though. Instead, you stepped closer.

“Shouldn’t you be inside, dancing the night away with your new spouse?” She said, her eyes ignoring yours.

“I needed some air,” you replied.

There was a long silence between you, the kind of silence that felt like a chasm. You were looking at her now, your gaze searching, as though you were trying to piece together something broken.

"Are you happy, Wednesday?" you asked, your voice quiet, almost drowned out by the music and chatter around you.

Wednesday’s lips parted as though she might answer, but no words came. She looked at you, her eyes darker than usual, and in that moment, her silence spoke louder than any reply ever could.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, each word precise and measured. “This is your day. Don’t waste it on me.”

“Wednesday,” you said, and her name on your lips was both a balm and a wound. “I know it’s complicated,” you said quietly. “But I still care about you. I always will.”

There was another silence between you. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was heavy, with all the things left unsaid. You opened your mouth as if to speak, but before you could, your partner appeared, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

“We should greet the rest of the guests,” she said warmly.

You nodded, giving Wednesday one last look before walking away with your partner.

Bianca reappeared at Wednesday's side, a glass of champagne in hand. She offered it to Wednesday, who took it without a word.

“Well,” Bianca said after a moment, her voice light but not unkind, “that was... something.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She sipped the champagne, the bubbles sharp and unpleasant on her tongue, she hated drinking, but again, she also hated weddings... but you were the exception, you always were.

"For all your intelligence and control, this is one battle you lost. You had her, Wednesday. She would’ve done anything for you. But you let her go. Why?"

Wednesday’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. It was carved into her heart.

You deserved better.

Author's note: I got this request from anon a week ago, I had completed this back then and wanted to post it after season 2 for a larger audience, but thought it might take too long so why not?

Also please do comment how do you guys feel about this angst!

Worklist Link

[yanxidarlings]

what's this? for once i am listening to a poll and not getting distracted by something entirely different?

fair warning this is probably my darkest yandere hp writing, reader goes through some shit (said shit being the slytherins shit) it's mostly just angst and misery with a hint of fluff (if you squint) honestly not that crazy about this, but i hereby present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

"remember, m/n, you have to do everything to be put into slytherin, no matter how it is the sorting works" draco levelled with m/n l/n, holding an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.

breaking away from the blond's gaze, m/n let out a snicker "i don't know what you're so worried about, draco, i'm the most slytherin person i know!" internally, everyone who wasn't m/n sighed. it was no secret m/n wasn't exactly.. slytherin material. but neither was enzo, or goyle and crabbe for that matter. but they'd all end up in slytherin together anyway, right?.

swinging an arm over the other male's shoulder, enzo pulled m/n in close "we just have to act as slytherin as possible, it'll be a lap around the quidditch pitch getting sorted if we just think things like.. how wicked snakes are- especially green ones! and.." the brunet furrowed his brows as he paused to think. "and just say mudblood over and over again as well! that'll convince them for sure"

m/n laughed, wiggling out of enzo's grip. if only he had actually taken the advice, maybe he wouldn't be where he was now.

"ravenclaw" "hufflepuff" "gryffindor"

what did the hat even yell out? all m/n knows is that it wasn't slytherin. he sat motionless on the stool, gripping the edges, waiting to hear 'slytherin' yelled out.

"mr l/n, please make your way to the ravenclaw table" a stern voice spoke.

he looked up to see professor mcgonagall staring at him, indicating towards the ravenclaw table. "what, why?" he gave the old woman a confuddled look "that's you're house, mr l/n" the look of confuddlement had turned into pure shock "the.. over there?" when mcgonagall quickly confirmed yes his mouth went agape "are you sure? i.." he pointed towards the slytherin table, where the rest of his childhood friends had been sorted "whilst i'm not entirely convinced, the sorting hat is, move along child" ushering him off the stool and towards the ravenclaw table, mcgonagall quickly went to call out the next name as soon as he was down the steps.

taking a seat at the very edge of the table, m/n ignored the greeting from the boy sat next to him to stare over at the slytherin table. only lorenzo was looking over at him, the rest avoided his gaze.

the boy pinched his forearm, leaving a red mark. but he didn't wake up in his bed nor the slytherin dormitory.

looking down, he saw his robes had taken on the blue and bronze colours associated with the eagle house. his stomach dropped, the reality of the situation coming crashing down. m/n l/n's life was effectively over

• the next day at herbology, the ravenclaw first class that day with the slytherins, none of them acknowledged him. it stung. sure, the reader had heard of purebloods not getting sorted into slytherin and being alienated from their family and circle, but it was never supposed to happen to him!

• the invisible treatment, alongside the howler he received from his guardian was enough to make him cry in the owlery after curfew. where else was there to cry? his new dormmates were mudbloods out for his magic! and the prefects patrolled the halls at night. imagine the humiliation if weaslebee or whatever the ravenclaw prefect's name was saw him balling his eyes out?

• lorenzo spoke to him, for a little while. but he knew the boy's parents would nip that behaviour in the bud eventually. the prestigious heir of the berkshire family? associating with a blood traitor? m/n knew none of them wanted to be dragged down with him.

• for a little while, he thought they just needed time to adjust to him being in a different house. it was just a house? the day after ravenclaw beat the slytherin team in first year, all hopes of that came crashing down.

"draco!" m/n smiled as he came past malfoy in the halls, "can you believe wattle stole the snitch? she must have knocked it out of higgs hands, i swear he had it" quidditch was safe, right? m/n had never given a hoot about quidditch in the past, but if it meant getting back in draco and his gang's good books, call him a connoiseur.

malfoy shot m/n a glare "let's see you do any better then" he spat. crabbe and goyle had their arms folded, as if they were the blond's bodyguards.

the ravenclaw went agape before puffing his cheeks out, trying to think of something to say "i- i was just chatting" he folded his arms, not in the intimidating way crabbe and goyle were, as if to make himself smaller.

"you're pathetic, l/n, you think i'd want to be friends with a disgusting blood traitor. know what? i'm glad you got sorted into ravenclaw so i didn't have to find out the hard way, you would have taken us all down with you, wouldn't you?" draco sneered out, eyes narrowing.

m/n looked down, his face painted with shock "draco.. i swear i'm not a blood traitor, the hat got it all wrong!" there was no reasoning with someone like draco, who had been raised with the strict pureblood beliefs shoved down his throat.

oi!, a voice rang out from behind him, turning halfway, m/n saw a boy in slytherin robes that he had never met before "who's this" "who are you" m/n said in near unison with the stranger "he's no one, riddle, nothing but a worthless blood traitor"

with that, malfoy, crabbe and goyle pushed past m/n, and began chatting with the other boy- riddle.

• to say the first few years at hogwarts are hell for m/n is an understatement. it wouldn't be a surprise if he developed anxiety, depression and paranoia from the constant ridicule and bullying. every corner he turned, one of them was there, calling him foul names, telling him he's a disgrace to his family name.

• who would want to stick around and become a victim as well? no one. that's who m/n had, no one. they brought anyone who he spent time with the same hell. it wasn't even just insults, it was physical, from getting into petty fights with mattheo, to theodore using the levicorpus charm to give him a concussion.

• if he so much as looks one of the greengrass girls way, elio would pour one of snape's potions over m/n's head and then tell the professor that m/n had stolen the potion. if he got the best grade in any class, enzo would accuse the reader of stealing his work, although tom always seemed to be the mastermind behind it.

• there was this one time when a girl a year below him, luna lovegood, began hanging around him, declaring that they were now friends. but m/n knew better than to get used to it, and he was right. within a few weeks of the friendship, a rumour started spreading that m/n was sleeping with rita skeeter and shit talking the quibbler. lovegood never looked at him the same.

• not to mention, the situation at home only got worse. the house was no longer a home, if it ever was. everything he apparently 'did' at hogwarts got reported back to his parents, who disowned him in fifth year.

• m/n didn't return to hogwarts after the winter break when his name was burnt off the family tree.

the great hall was bustling with students, catching up with friends after the yuletide season. the 'best spot' on the slytherin table (where the roasted turkeys were) was dominated by what was best known as the 'slytherin gang'.

blaise was quiet, but when wasn't he? he only spoke when something needed to be said. eyeing the ravenclaw table for his favourite person to lovingly stare (glare) at, he saw no familiar face.

darting his eyes back and forth between the entry and the table, a solemn look crossed his dark features. "what's got you so pissed, mate?" theo leaned over, following zabini's gaze. blaise briefly made eye contact with theo before taking a bite of roasted potato

"i don't see him either" riddle, tom, to be exact, remarked. theo made an 'o' face, the name didn't have to be said for everyone to know who they were talking about. they spent their days thinking of ways to torment him, who else would they notice the absence of?

• nobody explicitly said they missed the reader, but actions speak louder than words.

• tom was the first to notice something was amiss. you couldn't waterboard the information out of him, but he couldn't stand not to know where l/n was. he honestly thought the bullying was a bit ridiculous, but as long as he was isolating the reader, he didn't care how it was done.

• he takes action the quickest, stalking the long halls, trying to determine whether or not m/n was just avoiding them.

• it became something of a group mission find out where m/n is. before, they were just possessive, but now, now they were becoming obsessed.

• when the darling finally returned to hogwarts after weeks of being MIA, all the torment, all the bullying, it just stopped. they were being nice which only scared m/n even more. five, even four years ago he would have eaten this up. but he knew better than to trust people now- no, he was straight up paranoid.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise was one of the only ones who truly believed m/n was a blood traitor. but he never gave up on him. in blaise's mind, the years of 'torment' was him helping show the reader the importance of blood purity and status.

• blaise won't apologise for what he did, not sincerely. it'll be more of a 'i'm sorry it took you this long to understand the point'. he truly thinks he was just molding the reader into the perfect future spouse for him.

• the reader has simply traded one hell for another with blaise. refuse to agree to the arranged marriage? won't spend time with him? then the reader truly must be a blood traitor.

• blaise has his softer moments with the reader, where he'll reassure them that he never actually hated them, that he didn't mean any of what he would say to them. but the damage is done.

• when it's his night with m/n, sometimes he'll be awoken at 2am to the sound of m/n getting ready for the next day. when he tried to open the door to the bathroom, he had never heard such a panicked "don't!" when he asked m/n why, "i'm not presentable yet" it broke his heart.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had been encouraged by his parents- no, by his father, to put m/n in his place. now that he looks back at it, it had nothing to do with m/n, it was about making sure draco never even considered betraying his blood status.

• he engulfed the reader in a hug when he finally saw him on the way to class. whispering apologies, holding back tears. "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-" but he was quickly shoved off, m/n even mocked him for the tears.

• for the first time in his life, he understood what it felt like to be in the readers position. merlin, he was a git, wasn't he? he'll spend his entire life trying to make up for it if he has to.

• what he couldn't handle was m/n rejecting his attempts at friendship. gosh fucking damn it just love him already, draco makes it clear that the bullying might be over, and he's really sorry it ever happened, but the reader is never allowed a life outside of the slytherins.

• people who interact with the reader are still targeted, leaving him as isolated as ever. at some point he might accept draco's offer of friendship, but he'd never be stupid enough to actually buy into that bollocks.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• lorenzo was kind of like the readers guardian angel throughout his years of torment. he might have been a bystander, but he never directly took part in foul 'pranks' they'd pull on him. it hurt his heart to see m/n so misrable, but he had a reputation to uphold and parents to keep happy.

• whenever the chance would present itself, enzo would try and make m/n's day a bit better. he sent anonymous chocolates from hogsmede for a good while, until pollux and draco started calling m/n a pig when he'd eat them at dinner.

• but it was the thought that counts! and that's what enzo tries to tell m/n in fifth year. he got punched. m/n told him to get lost in the forbidden forest and to take the rest of them with him.

• time heals all wounds, enzo probably has one of the best chances of developing an actual friendship with the reader. but they all want more, especially enzo. who believes he has some sort of precedence over the others for being 'so good' to the reader when everyone else wasn't.

• he thought he was being slick, discussing the possibility of an arranged marriage with his parents. but blaise has made plans a while back, and tom had taken the dark mark with the promise that his father would oneday have m/n marry him.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo is by far, by a long mile, the worst of them all. he used to cruciatus curse on more than once on m/n whenever he was in a particularly jealous or bad mood. objectified him based on his looks "i'd bash your face in but then i'd ruin the only thing you have going for you."

• he didn't even know the reader before hogwarts, he just saw the way draco treated m/n, felt a funny warm feeling, and decided that meant he hated the reader.

• but god forbid anybody else does what he does, mattheo sometimes even tells off the other slytherins, the ones he doesn't like (draco lmao) to back off. maybe if he took his own advice m/n wouldn't be as traumatised as he is.

• lost his shit when m/n didn't return in fifth year. felt like he was dying, it was then he realised that maybe m/n is more important to him than he thought.

• babies the shit out of m/n when he comes back- he tries to at least. offers to carry his bags, trys to sleep in his bed with him, patches up even a small paper cut. it's a startling contrast, m/n probably feels like he has to go along with it, or risk becoming mattheo's target again.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo wouldn't have gotten in on the bullying if it weren't for his father and the others encouraging him. he didn't do nearly as much as draco or mattheo, but was still considerably worse than blaise or enzo.

• he would always hover around m/n, using his robes, sometimes skin as an ashtray. always making some sort of sarcastic or witty remark. and he always had a glare that would sink though m/n's skull, leaving him constantly on the edge.

• even during the earlier years of hogwarts, theo would have moments of softness, where he dropped the hateful act. which is why he was the one m/n trusted the least when the torment finally stopped.

• m/n keeping his distance, emotionally at least, is what drives theo over the edge. instead of saying something demeaning when he gets like that, theo now has outbursts where he demands closeness: mattheo will often have to drag him out of the room.

• there's always an over the top apology, only for it to go horribly wrong when the reader doesn't eat it up. he drowns in self hatred and anger, wouldn't it be great it time turners could go back years and none of this happened?

TOM RIDDLE

• tom honestly thought the reader deserved the treatment they got at first. to be born with pure blood and to throw away the privileges that came with it so easily? absolutely disgusting.

• he used to mastermind the bigger plans, until he came to respect m/n's intelligence and strength. anybody else would have ended themselves by now, and he had never met anyone as intelligent as himself. of course at first he developed his own hatred towards the ravenclaw whenever he'd get the same or a higher score on a test than him.

• his attraction to m/n causes him to pull out of partaking in the bullying by around third year. he's got better things to do, like being the top of the class over the likes of an ungrateful blood traitor.

• his main motivation in helping his father resurrect was the power it would give him over m/n. once he became a loyal death eater, he would be rewarded with m/n. the readers feelings be damned, tom wasn't above the imperius curse, amortentia or the cruciatus curse.

[teastainedprose]

Lap Cat

I blame @ghoulphile for this because of her reply that I stole and this ask she got. [A03 link]

“better behave yourself now, kitten. I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” 🔞 1,242 words | Pre-War, Post Divorce Cooper, Sometimes a lady just wants to be a good little kitten for Mr. Howard. Sorta. (established relationship, kitten pet name OBVIOUSLY, light fingering, light oral sex)

It's a lazy sort of afternoon where the warm sunlight and humidity leaves you languid. Mellow and sluggish. Being well fucked will do that to a gal. You're sore in all the right places and utterly content to sprawl out on the couch beside Cooper.

The TV drones on, a distant buzz to your ears as you let your consciousness slip in and out. You're comfortable, settled on the couch with Cooper's thigh as a pillow and an arm flung over his lap. He's reclining back, casually puffing on a cigarette as he watches the TV. You don't know that he's watching your serene expression just as often as the screen.

His other hand relocates every now and then as Cooper smokes. First at your shoulder with his thumb idly rubbing under the sleeve of your dress. Then swooping down the curve of your side to repeat the same languid stroke at your thigh. Occasionally he'll let fingers wander to tease down the soft flesh of your thighs or give your ass a playful squeeze as you murmur and burrow closer.

You don't dip fully into sleep until Cooper starts playing with your hair, fingers combing through it while his even breathing lulls you. It's soothing, being nestled against the warmth of him while Cooper pets you. His scent envelopes you fully from where your head rests, every breath making sure your senses are full of him. The faint smell of horses, leather, stale smoke, and the woodland scent that's uniquely him. It makes you nuzzle your face against his thigh affectionately, seeking more of his scent.

You blink, time skipping ahead in an instant as you look up. There's his cigarette in the ashtray, stumped out before you glance up to catch his eyes. "There she is," He rumbles with lips turned up in a smile.

"Mhhm? Did I fall asleep? Sorry." A sigh escapes you as you rub your cheek against his lap, having scooted closer in your sleep.

"Not long. Only a few minutes, sweetheart." The hand that had been motionless on your thigh squeezes. There's a telltale twitch against your cheek.

That brings a wicked smile to your lips as you turn your head, nuzzling more insistently at the fly of his jeans. Cooper inhales sharply, palm skimming up your thigh to slide under your dress as he takes up a handful of your ass.

"Now, now. Quit your squirmin' before I make you do something about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Howard." You grin, shifting to turn wide innocent eyes up to him while stretching out. Which in turn presses the swell of one ass cheek further into his palm. You sigh mid-stretch, letting your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans before easing yourself back down across the couch and his lap. As content as a cat.

"Mhm, brat." Cooper's chuckle is a low rumble in his chest that vibrates down to you. There's a moment of consideration, his fingers flexing into the fat of your backside before he smiles indulgently down at you. He shifts his free hand off the arm of the couch to press the knuckle of his pointer finger insistently between your lips.

You part your lips willingly as he twists his finger, pressing down on your tongue. You promptly clamp teeth about his knuckle with a tiny growl. Defiance flashes in your eyes as you turn your head minutely to catch his eye.

“Better behave yourself now, kitten," He tuts, a stern expression settling on his face. "I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” There's a certain tone creeping into Cooper's voice that sends an electric jolt of arousal through you. It's the sort of tone that unconsciously pulls compliance out of you.

He smirks as you relax your jaw and promptly curl your tongue about his finger, sucking diligently as commanded.

"There's my good girl," He croons while stroking the curve of your ass.

At the praise, your eyes roll back in pleasure before squeezing them shut, squirming eagerly against him. Cooper's palm slides silently under your panties to cup your sex. He hums his approval, middle finger tapping against slick folds.

"So eager for me, ain'tcha kitten?" Cooper rasps out as he takes you in contently sucking on his finger. He continues to tease between your legs with his other hand, middle finger pressing insistently between slick folds. The honey brown and deep forest green of his eyes darken as he watches every reaction he pulls from you.

You can only moan about the fingers in your mouth in response, fisting up as much of his jeans as you can. He slides another digit between your lips and presses harshly down on your tongue. Automatically, you swallow about his fingers while taking care not to bite out of reflex. A disgruntled sound escapes you all the same. There are better things to have your lips wrapped around.

As if to reward you for the lack of teeth, he presses his middle finger between your folds while spreading them wider with ring and index finger. That index finger teases at your entrance, ghosting over but never slipping in. You huff about his fingers, hips canting to press into his palm only for Cooper to pull back. You need more. Either Cooper needs to start rubbing at your clit or sliding fingers inside of you. Even better if he'd let you crawl atop his lap and ride him properly.

He clicks his tongue as you clamp teeth about his fingers in clear frustration, promptly moving his hand from between your legs. He gives your ass a parting pat as you glower, his fingers still pressing insistently against your tongue until you release your teeth.

"Frustrated, baby?" He croons down to you. "Want something else in your mouth?"

Pulling his fingers from your mouth with a sudden pop, Cooper wastes no time as he unbuttons his pants to free his already straining erection. In moments his cock is bobbing mere inches from your face.

Biting your bottom lip, you lean closer as one hand comes to wrap fingers around the base of his shaft. It gets his cock twitching as Cooper huffs.

"Kitten, you're gonna need to take care o' this before you get anything else. You can do that for me, can't ya?" He drops a hand to stroke over your hair, nudging your face closer.

You're all but purring in excitement. You're over eager as you pop the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue pressing against the crown to taste him. It earns you a groan out of Cooper as he drops her head back. His cock twitches between your lips as pre-cum dribbles freely against your tongue. The taste is bitter salt on your tastebuds, but it makes you moan in pleasure all the same as you lap it up. That gains you a second groan out of Cooper, fingers digging into your hair briefly. Your eyes roll up to meet his as you smirk about his cock like the wicked little creature you are.

"Mind the teeth now." He murmurs, hand sliding into your hair to guide your mouth further down his cock. "How 'bout you show me how good you can be? Earn that reward, sweetheart."

What exactly your reward will end up being is a mystery, but you're eager to earn it all the same.

[dyns33]

Family's fever

I have so many, sooo many, Alfie and his wife stories waiting to be posted.

It was only pain.

For a moment, Alfie wondered if he had died and gone to hell, where his body burned and caused him a martyrdom such as he had never known.

The first time was during the war. Between the trenches, the bombs, the fighting, it had completely destroyed his back, and it had never healed. As if he had stayed there. Maybe it would have been better.

A panting breath was heard on his right, but fatigue was stronger than his survival instinct. So Alfie remained motionless, waiting for the intruder to strike.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed, until a light made him wince, immediately soothed by a cold, damp cloth placed on his forehead and eyes.

"My poor darling, you are even hotter than yesterday."

The soft voice and the hand caressing his cheek almost made him forget the torture he had been living for several hours, at least enough for him to find the strength to move his eyelids enough to see what was around him.

First, he discovered that the danger blowing was a dog, which barked happily at seeing him awake, resting its big head on his hand.

The animal seemed familiar, like the room, but Alfie's foggy mind forgot his questions when he laid his eyes on the woman who was now sponging his sweaty neck.

"… I'm dead."

"Not yet, Alfie. But if this continues I'll call the doctor, no matter what you say."

"Doctors are quacks."

"Like you've been telling me since you caught that cold. And yet you did send one to my house when I was sick."

"I couldn't leave such a beautiful angel to die."

"Ah, maybe you're feeling a little better, you're talking nonsense again." she joked, massaging his shoulder.

However, Alfie wasn't joking, and he didn't understand why his angelic vision didn't take him seriously. He was very serious.

Never in his entire life had he seen such a beautiful woman. If he could have gotten up without crying out in pain, he would have taken her hand to kiss it reverently, before apologizing for having the impudence to touch her without permission.

Maybe she wasn't entirely wrong about his fever, because he laughed, repeating that he really was saying ridiculous things.

Obviously he was mumbling his thoughts without even realizing it. Or maybe it was madness. Alfie had always been a bit crazy, and being stuck with his brigade in the middle of the bombs hadn't helped matters.

His mind was still lucid enough to see the wedding ring on his angel's hand, though, and to know what it meant. Of course, such a woman was married. All the men had to grovel at her feet, begging her to be their wife, and one of them had been given the privilege of being chosen.

"Lucky bastard."

"If I make some soup, will you try to eat it ?"

"Anything for you, видение рая."

"Good. Thanks for finally being reasonable."

"I'll need strength to question your husband." he sighed, patting the dog on the head as it came closer to lick his face.

"…Excuse me ?"

"I wouldn't kill him, I wouldn't want to hurt your tender heart, but I have to check that he deserves you. And if he's not worthy, I should train him until he is."

"… Okay, I'll call the doctor. Cyril, stay here."

Obeying his mistress, the dog guarded the sick man despite his protests and pleas. Alfie would have liked her to stay by his side a little longer. There was no hope that he would see her again.

He frowned when a small man in his lab coat entered the room, putting his briefcase on a table and asking him a lot of questions. Damn doctor.

The man only got his attention when he turned to the angel and called her "Mrs. Solomons.", which made him frown even more.

Hmm.

Alfie knew only three "Mrs Solomons", his grandmother, may she rest in peace, who had always hated being called that, his poor mother who was no longer of this world either, and his sister who had long since taken the name of her stupid husband.

Even if he was not well, he could still recognize these three people, he was certain of it.

"He talked about having a discussion with my husband."

"Mr Solomons often speaks about himself in the third person… As he often speaks to himself."

"I agree, but could the fever be playing on his memory ?"

"You are me wife ?"

The sad smile she gave him as she came back to sit next to him seemed like a sufficient answer, but Alfie couldn't believe it.

Him, married to this perfect being ? Impossible, there had to be a mistake. Someone was playing a joke on him, there was no other explanation, or the devil had decided to punish him for all his sins by torturing him with a twisted scenario, mixing pain, sweetness and vain hope.

But Alfie didn't really believe in this bullshit, and he didn't see anyone suicidal enough to play such a trick on him.

"But why are you married to me, love ? Did I threaten you ? Did your father have debts ? Would I have become rich ? No, an angel like you doesn't marry an old fool like me even if he is rich."

"Maybe I fell in love." she sneered, capturing his attention enough for him to let the doctor take his pulse on his other arm.

"Ah ! I tricked you, my poor treacle ! I blinded you and made you sink into madness to have you. Damn me ! I mean, I am honored that you love me, even if using such subterfuge to have you is terrible."

"I knew exactly where I was going, don't worry. Doctor ?"

"He is simply exhausted by the fever and his back, which makes him delirious. But he will be better soon, I will write you a prescription."

Still not convinced that he could have married the one who was called Y/N, Alfie stared at her with wide eyes in silence, captivated by her every move and accepting everything she asked of him, wisely eating his soup, taking his medicine and letting her change his soaked shirt.

He thought he was going to have a heart attack when she entered the room in her nightgown, lying against him, her head on his shoulder.

"Try to sleep, okay ?"

"But if I sleep, you might disappear." he whispered like a child.

"My sweet idiot. I promise to be here tomorrow morning, sleep now."

As promised, Y/N was still there when he woke up, noticing that his fever had gone down and his memories had returned.

She gently mocked the event when he had fully recovered, and even though he claimed not to see what she was talking about, unable to not make the pout that always betrayed him whenever he tried to hide something from his wife.

Alfie was not ashamed of having been sick. He was still human. He wasn't ashamed of saying strange things either, because it wasn't a change from his usual behavior, nor of falling madly in love with Y/N ​​again, which was perfectly normal.

What he didn't like was the expression on her face when she realized he wasn't joking when he said he didn't know who she was.

"I was worried, you know."

"I know, love. Sorry."

"You really need to stop covering up all over London when it rains."

"Tell your brothers to stop making trouble all over London and I can stay in my office."

"At least this time you were a decent patient. All the other times, you were impossible to hold, refusing to stay in bed and not scare the doctor away. Do you have to take me for someone else's wife to listen to me ?"

"Of course not." he mumbled, pulling her closer. "Other times, I was only able to handle myself, you didn't need to waste your time on me."

"I never waste my time on you, Alfie."

Ah, Y/N. His sweet love. Of course he had taken her for an angel fallen from the sky. That was kind of what she was, even if it wasn't God but Thomas fucking Shelby who had put her on his path.

No doubt her brother was still as shocked as he was that she could have fallen for the idiot he was.

Even in good health, Alfie sometimes wondered how he had done it, how fate had been able to give him such a gift.

"Stop mumbling nonsense, Ollie is waiting for us outside."

"Yes, мой ангел."

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile, guessing what he had said and taking his hand to urge him to leave their house, because she knew very well that if she gave him time, he would have pulled her even further onto the couch, and they would have been very late.