#natalie sinclair

[gravehags]

“What if I was a mole?”

Copia’s lips pull into a frown and he sets his book pages face down on his bare chest.

“Eh, what?”

“Y’know,” Natalie says, hands gesticulating into the air above her, “What if I was secretly a devout Catholic mole sending all the Ministry’s dirty secrets to my masters in the Vatican? Like a nun undercover or—“

“Aht—let me stop you right there, amore, because I think you’ve just stumbled onto our next eh, roleplay scenario.”

“…You fucking deviant.”

He leers at her, sliding a hand up her hip.

“I’ll give you something dirty to take back to your pope, you filthy Catholic whore.”

The guffaw that comes out of Natalie is soon cut short when Copia leans in to gently pull at the delicate flesh of her throat with his teeth.

“Cope—Copia, fuck, I had no intention—“

“Let me show you what my intentions are, piccola volsa.”

Natalie sighs, then her exasperated expression schools into something more soft and tantalizing.

“Oh please have mercy on me, Cardinal,” she breathes, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, “I promise I’m loyal to the Ministry.”

Copia lets out a filthy chuckle as his hands push up the hem of her nightgown.

“Perhaps I will be merciful,” he coos as she shimmies the garment over her head and flings it to the floor, baring her to his hungry gaze, “Depends how prettily you can beg for me.”

Natalie grins lazily, her fingers threaded in his hair as he settles at the juncture of her thighs.

“I’ll do my best.”

[sims-creations]

[natalie] “ian, I am serious! I understand how you must feel but your brother has a right to be here!”

[ian] “then you obviously don’t understand, nat! goddamn it, he was never supposed to be anywhere near my wife!”

[chelsea under her breath] “he kinda dated her first, so...”

[nathalie] “hush, jeanie!”

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 9: Unwanted Solitude [D1]

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Roughly 1.5 years after the end of the movie and Sinclair has divorced the it’s-absolutely-not-cheating-fucking-one’s-brother-while-married-to-a-sweetheart-bitch but he’s now lonely and has not been as outgoing or social ever since the summer it all came to light. This Christmas, as it is December 9th, feels beyond lonely and you miss him. Natalie slander ahead btw!

Special Thank You: to @snowblossomreads for checking this fic to make sure I did an okay job on Sinclair as it's my first time writing for the man and Blossom is a certified super fan of him 🤭

A/N: I have never written for Sinclair, or been a particular fan of him as I’ve not really watched his movie more than once - I could not stand everything else about it so once was enough for me despite Alan being in it - yet still I have been asked numerous times to write for this yapping, open sweetheart so why not give it a go? << this was written BEFORE I started writing….

I’ve now written the thing and… >> Well, this is no longer a One-Shot, I’ll have to split it into two 😂 It takes quite a bit more words to write for this yapping man than any other and I’m honestly finding that I don’t mind. I’m not sure how much I’ll write for Sinclair in the future but at least two parts of Rickmas will be for him - so, yay on trying new characters! 😂👌

Tags/TW’s: Natalie SLANDER, Talk Of The Infidelity, Talk Of The Incest, Secret Pining, Long-Time Crush, Unplanned Honesty About Feelings/Thoughts, Yapping,

Word Count: 2.2k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Unwanted Solitude

He had not been the same ever since that strange party where Natalie and her brother had returned all banged up and bruised. You’d not thought to ask about it, it seemed like a private matter, but lately you hadn’t been able to avoid connecting the dots. Sinclair had chatted with you about his now ex-wife cheating on him — while it was happening and he tried to find out with who it was happening — but then after that party he never spoke a word about it again.

Actually, he spoke less and less while he seemed to withdraw and no longer find life as lovely or interesting as before. After all, he was not the sort of man who ever shut up about anything he saw or found interesting — or even just something he knew something about no matter his interest level or the relativity to any given topic currently underway. If he had information or something to share he’d simply do so.

When the divorce was announced — after everything was done and Natalie had already moved out — you’d been there for him as much as he allowed but what had actually happened was never really talked about. You understood the infidelity had been too much to get over — valid as fuck if one asked you — but there seemed to be even more to it as Sinclair had changed so much. That it suddenly was like pulling teeth to get the man to talk only worried you all the more.

He used to never ever be quiet, which you found quite endearing and since you weren’t the most talkative person yourself it was rather nice just to listen and be able to hold a conversation with less work from your side which allowed you to be comfortable in your quietness. You weren’t shy, of course, nor adverse to socialising but it was utterly nice to just listen to him. His deep voice, hearing his tone change depending on his interest level, watching him smile or move his facial features in accordance with how he felt about any given subject.

It had been nearly a month since you last saw the man, or even heard from him, which you weren’t really happy about. A sort of unwanted solitude had been bestowed on you as he was one of few you ever really talked with or enjoyed the company of. Well, truth be told you did a little more than enjoy his company, you had quite the crush on the man. It had started from the moment you met him — you had never said anything about it as the man had been married, and then the divorce happened, and now he had almost shut everyone out. The weekly gatherings, the outings, the restaurant dinners with friends and family, the fun parties he threw and the garden gatherings had all gone out the window after that summer party and the chance to confess never seemed to come.

You sighed, trying to focus back on what you were doing — reading a book in bed as it was despite the evening being young — you jolted when the phone rang in its shrill tone. Picking it up, you held it against your ear. “Hello?” “It’s overflowing!” shouted Sinclair, even if his shouting wasn’t quite like any other person’s shouting. “The blasted thing is filling my kitchen again!” You held back a smile at his frustrated, exasperated voice as you remembered the last time the dishwasher had gone bonkers and the cheating bitch had been out fucking her brother and Sinclair had called you for help with it.

“Have you unplugged it?” “Have I— Of course I have! The blasted thing keeps pumping out suds and bubbles and water and everything is covering the floor and it’s nice flooring with the honey-waxed mahogany—” “Yes, I know, I remember the last time it happened,” you said while flinging off the cover and pulling down your pyjama pants. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” “Oh, it’s spewing water now! It’s like a fountain! They were made already back by the ancient Romans for decorative purposes, before Christ even, but I don’t want one in my blasted kitchen in this modern day!” he shouted and you could hear his sloshing footsteps through the receiver.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming, just cut the water supply! Bye,” you said and hung up before scrambling out of the rest of your comfy pyjamas to throw on the outfit you’d planned for tomorrow’s workday — it happened to be a very pretty ensemble of clothes that highlighted all your favourite features of your figure so that wasn’t too bad when rushing out to go over and save the man you were dreaming of from the broken dishwasher.

So, as you walked up toward the beautiful house now dusted with snow, your nerves got the better of you despite you never slowing down. It had been over a month and seeing him again was long overdue. However, when you opened the door all you could hear was cursing, water sloshing, and banging. This can’t be good, you thought as you hung up your coat and headed straight for the lovely kitchen with slightly outdated appliances.

“There you are!” Sinclair exclaimed as you entered the kitchen while rolling up your sleeves. “Here I am,” you replied with a smile as he looked at you with distressed puppy eyes. “Out of the way, let’s fix this thing. Again,” you continued with a pointed look and the relief was instant in his handsome features.

He helped you pull the dishwasher out before he sat atop the counter as he usually did. He was soaking wet, and you did all you could to keep your eyes at head level and not allow them to wander down the nearly see-through white shirt.

“Got the wrench?” you asked, it really wasn’t a hard thing to fix the dishwasher. Just a bolt needing tightening and the liner needing straightening but Sinclair wasn’t a handy guy. You’d been on your own for a long time so little things like that weren’t too much of a bother. You’d learned as you went through life with minimal help from others.

“Here,” he said and handed it to you. “Thanks—” you crawled behind the dishwasher “—you really should replace this. Isn’t it the third—” “Fourth,” he corrected. “—yeah, the fourth time it breaks. Get a new one.” “I will, eventually, but society today is too focused on replacing things rather than repairing them. One can’t throw away everything in a rush just because it’s a little broken. You know, it’s only in recent times society has started moving away from creating things that last and are repairable to consumers having to buy new things at a higher rate.” “Oh yeah?” You already knew this, of course, but Sinclair sounded happy talking about it.

You tightened the bolt connecting the dishwasher to the water line as he kept talking. “Yes, as a matter of fact, the light bulb is the earliest example of this. They lasted too long so a meeting was held, by the Phoebus Cartel no less, and all of a sudden the time was cut in half for how long a bulb should work. Suddenly, consumers had to purchase new bulbs at a higher rate and thus the companies made more money. Now it has infected our whole society, planned obsolescence was born out of company greed and we’re all paying for it. Terrible, really.”

You hummed and fixed the liner. “Yeah, that is terrible. That was quite evil of the cartel.” You honestly just wanted him to keep talking, it had been so long since you enjoyed a flowing conversation with him yapping away as he had done before.

You crawled back out and found Sinclair watching you with a smile. “What?” “The cartels of the world have done many bad things, creating planned obsolescence is probably one of the worst things, though. I mean, the mafia did help create best-before dates on foods but that’s more of a good thing for food safety and regulations — for the general health of the public. Alcapone wasn’t all bad, it seems as he got milk bottles to have markings of dates in such a way. Quite smart, really, to lobby for it. It is, however, not a fact fully proven but it is fully believed — for different reasons. One being his niece getting sick and the other being he would profit off it with the businesses he had a hand in.” “Alcapone? Wasn’t that around 1902?” you asked, remembering him mentioning something about the mafia man and milk bottles in another conversation a long time ago.

For a moment there was silence, then he smiled most warmly before a broad and teeth-flashing grin turned his handsome features absolutely gorgeous. “You listened? And remembered? That was years ago when we talked about Alcapone and the dairy industry.” You nodded and he kept chatting while you wiped your hands. “Now that I think of it, you always seem quite sharp and attentive when I talk. You don’t talk much but you’re always listening and I have never had to repeat the same thing twice to you. Got a good memory?” “Ha!” you laughed, hanging up the towel. “Not really, but I like listening to you.” “To me? Specifically?”

Your fingers halted just before releasing the towel, your cheeks heating and your shoulders stiffening. You hadn’t meant to let it slip out like that. You’d never told him of your interest or really showed it as it had never been a good time for it. “Well, yes…” “Huh, that’s nice to know. I am talkative, very aware of it, too. But how can I not share the many bits and facts being housed in my head when so many opportunities arise for it?” he said with a happy voice as you turned and nodded. “Yeah, exactly. And it’s interesting to know things.” “It is indeed. One can never know too many things— Ah, well, I guess one could but— Never mind.”

His shoulders slumped and the slight gloom you had seen in him ever since that damned party returned. “Well, I’d rather know and deal with things than live in false bliss. Wouldn’t you?” you asked, giving him an opportunity to pick up the conversation as you leaned against the pulled-out dishwasher, ignoring the water seeping through your socks. “Now there’s a truth if I’ve ever heard one. Quite right,” he said. “But some things one doesn’t want to know.” You simply had to know, had to make sure, so you jumped at the chance. “Like if one’s wife is fucking their brother?”

Sinclair stiffened, his face turned ashen and you knew you had been to the point and awfully brusque. But, then again, Sinclair had always seemed to be the type of person who could better deal with that than people not spitting things out when needed.

You stood still, held his gaze and waited. “You know…” “Well, I suspected, but yes, basically.” “Well, that makes things awkward.” “Not really.” “No?” he asked, arching a brow while his stiff posture remained. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Staying with her perhaps but I know you and you always try to work things out. I mean, if I was your wife I’d do my best to make you the happiest man alive. You’re fantastic, you know.” Better just spit it all out while we’re at it. “Not that you don’t have your bad sides and bad habits but, I mean come on, that’s no excuse for infidelity or partaking in incest. Sorry, but gross as fuck and so wrong.”

Sinclair watched you, silent for once in a pondering manner. Your stomach was in upheaval and your fingers squeezed your upper arms as you held them crossed under your chest while pretending to remain calm. “If you were my wife?” he asked. “Anyone, if anyone was your wife I think, except that bitch— Sorry, but, I never liked her at all.” “I noticed. You hid it well, though.” “I tried.” You sighed. “Not to say you were the best match for her at all times either, I mean she changed a lot about herself for you, so maybe the wife you had wasn’t at all the person she really is but that’s even worse. Fraud, basically.” His eyebrows shot up. “I never knew you held such strong opinions about her, or our relationship.” “Not my relationship, not my place to say.” You seemed happy with her until the cheating, too. I’d never wanna ruin anything that makes you happy.

Sinclair scooted off the bench and you straightened. “Push it back?” he asked and put his hands on the dishwasher, right by your hip. “Sure.” You took the other side and as you pushed the old thing back in place you couldn’t help but dread whatever he was about to say next. You had utterly exposed your own thoughts and feelings, not something you often did.

“I think we need a mop,” he sighed, looking at the water and your wet socks. “Some rags and a bucket, too,” you added and he nodded. “And perhaps a longer conversation, over tea and in dry clothes,” he continued with a strange depth to his voice and a weird but captivating look in his eyes. You merely nodded, mute at the moment while your heart thundered in your chest.

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 12: Missing Mirth [D2]

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this, darling! I'm quite pleased with my first attempt at writing for this man - not sure how much I'll be writing for him but we'll see in the future. At least one more fic, though, as this requires a second part 🥰

Got any plans for the week? ❤

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Want to be tagged? You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you!

[enidtendo64]

More Wednesday x Yellowjackets bc I’m the only person who wants this specifically niche crossover alive

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Return of the ex

Sinclair Bryant x reader

After a year, Natalie shows up again and Reader is not having it. (Takes place in the same timeline of “Coal and Cards” and “Blankets and Snuggles”)

———————————————————-

The hazy warmth of late summer had firmly settled in, and you and Sinclair were enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon, cuddled up on the day bed in the sunroom. Your head was pillowed against his chest as Sinclair read out loud from his book. The cozy feeling of his arm around your shoulders and the way his voice rumbled through his chest had you hovering in a sleepy haze. The peace of the moment was broken by the sound of the doorbell. Sinclair saved his place in the book, "I'll get it, Love." he said, as he untangled himself to get up. You stretched out comfortably as you heard his footsteps reach the door to open it, but you were snapped out of you half asleep state instantly when you heard him say the name neither of you hoped to hear again.

You got up and headed to the front door. When you reached the hall, you saw Sinclair standing in the doorway, one hand holding the door, his shoulders tense, and a blonde woman standing in front of him. "Won't you please talk to me?" She said in an annoying pleading tone. Sinclair's voice was uncharacteristically flat, "We have nothing to talk about. Why are you even here?" "I made a mistake, I know it, but we can still work things out." "Natalie, I told you it was over a year ago. There is nothing to work out, I don't feel anything for you anymore. We're done." "You can't just throw away the years we had like they were nothing."

Having heard more than enough, you stepped up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. You felt his tension start to relax at your touch and you leant closer against him. "Honey, who's this?" You asked innocently, even though your eyes narrowed at the woman in front of you. Sinclair sighed slightly, "This is my ex-wife. And she was just leaving." Before she could say another word, Sinclair closed and locked the door before turning and walking away. You stayed near the door for a few moments, watching through the frosted glass to make sure she'd left before going to look for Sinclair. You found him in the living room, his hands braced on the back of the couch, leaning heavily against it. You went to hug him, resting your head against his back and rubbing your hand gently across his chest, "Hey. It's okay, she'd gone." You spoke gently. You felt him take a deep breath and start to relax against your touch. You pressed a kiss firmly against his shoulder before saying, "It's getting late in the day. Will you help me get dinner started?" "Yeah." He answered, his voice lacking its usual mellow strength, "Of course, love." He stood and turned in your arms, giving you a tight, reassuring hug before stepping back, taking your hand and heading to the kitchen with you.

A few days passed and you and Sinclair had put the incident of the creepy ex out of your minds. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy though. It was a Wednesday evening. Sinclair had gotten home from work and had headed upstairs for a shower and not long after the front doorbell rang. It was Natalie again. She looked surprised to see you and you were internally glad you managed to unsettle her. "I...I want to talk to Sinclair." Your frown deepened, "He's made it clear that he has nothing to say to you. You have no place here." "I'm his wife!" She yelped indignantly and you felt your blood boil. "Ex-wife." You practically growled, "And honestly, you lost all right to call yourself Sinclair's wife when you started shagging your brother." You had a lot of pent-up rage at this woman who had broken Sinclair's heart and now was your chance to release some of it, "What are you doing here anyway? Hoping he'll welcome you back with open arms, all is forgiven?" The look in her eyes let you know that's exactly what she was hoping for. "As I said before," you said flatly now, "He wants nothing to do with you. Now get away from our house." Her eyes flashed at your wording, and she seemed to finally put two and two together, "You're living together?" She asked, incredulously. You smirked, "Not that it's any of your business, but yes we are. We've been together since Christmas." Natalie's mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish before she stammered out, "How could he!...he just...he just moved on so soon...like what we had was nothing..?!" "Oh shut up!" You snapped, now fully sick of her. "You pathetic, creepy, deceitful bitch! You broke his trust, you broke his heart, and now you have the absolute gall to act outraged that he doesn't want anything to do with you and that he found someone who actually loves and cares about him!" Natalie actually took a stap back away from you. "Right now, the only reason I'm not tearing your hair out is because I'd rather not go to jail for assault." You snapped, "But if you don't clear out and stay out, I'm gonna drag you to the river and reinvent the ducking chair." Finally getting the hint, Natalie turned and hurried down the path to the gate. "Good riddance." You muttered under your breath before slamming and locking the door. You turned and froze as you saw Sinclair standing at the foot of the stairs" "Hi Love," you said, "Um, how much of that did you see?" "A fair chunk of it." He answered, looking at you with adoring soft eyes, "You're quite fierce when you're angry." You huffed a little, walking towards him, "She deserved it. God she's awful." As you reached him, you snuggled against his chest, "You deserve so much better." Sinclair looped his arms around your waist and rested his cheek on your top of your head, “I have the best right here.”

[digitalfountains]

Natalie Jayne Roser by Sophia Sinclair

[iddybyddybee]

Ladles, gentles, and n’beetles, for Pride Month ‘23, I present the three recent ships that are currently rotting my brain: RoNance, WenClair, and MistyNat.

I know none of them will be canon, but I am a hopeless romantic and a sap for opposites attract, so I keep on dreaming. Just one profession of love will do~

[evans23]

I just rewatched Close my eyes and I’m still as stunned as the other times. Ok, Sinclair talks a lot, maybe too much but he is clearly in love with her. You want to work ? Good, work but don’t forget that you can’t stop this shitty work making you sad at any time, I can support you with all my money while you’re living a more lavishing life than the one you are already living now. You want to go out with friends for a whole weekends ? Yeah I don’t mind, have fun. You’re feeling beside yourself ? Let me spoiling you with shows and some sightseeing tour even though I’ve already understood you’re having an affair with your brother.

Oh, so I was right, you were really having an affair with your brother, your real brother, connected to you by blood ? Good. I am keeping a cold head. No, I won’t scream or kill one or even both of you. I am far above that kind of behaviour compared to you little rascals.

Yeah, to put in a nutshell, Sinclair has his shortcomings , the said shortcomings being him talking without stopping but what could he do, Natalie is so mundane, making no effort to be a minimum interested about any of his interests and she doesn’t seem to have any of hers except going on a shopping spree spending money on clothes. But Natalie has no excuse. She cheats on her husband to set on fire a life she considered boring until she realised what she could lose. She used her stupid brother because she had no fun in her life rather than communicate with her husband about how she was feeling !

Oh and can we talk about this moment when she has a jealousy crisis because she thinks Sinclair is having an affair (just after she has shagged her brother) because the hard-worker putting food on the table is not at his office… only to discover with a disgusting jubilation he was just having a meal with a good book… all alone because his wife was too occupied to fuck her brother to have any interest for him or to enter in the restaurant to keep him company…

Yes, definitely, she is just a supercilious little girl who is never happy even when she has everything to be so.

[cultswans]

like or reblog if you save.

[11eleven-hopper]

ST

[mediagifs]

[gravehags]

natalie accidentally sending an explicit sext to the group chat she has with copia and the other emeritus brothers and seconds after realizing her mistake she gets “piccolina…we shouldn’t…you are copia’s but if you’re serious about this meet me at my office” and copia’s like “SECONDO I CAN SEE THIS” and natalie’s absolutely mortified until a few seconds later when terzo sends an artful fully nude photo of himself and primo has to go confiscate his phone for 3-5 business days. natalie got more careful after that.

[sims-creations]

[leon] “seems like helena’s enjoying herself quite a lot in that handsome fella’s company, don’t you think, nat?”

[natalie] “oh hush, leon! they’re just drunk and having a good time!”

[leon laughing] “exactly my point, ma’am!”

and then there was angelica, probably the only person left at this party who was still sober and happy to be so. leon wasn’t wrong with his comment about helena and tristan. even a blind person could see how well they got along. still it wasn’t a good look that by now she seemed to have only eyes for him. and yet there was her aunt sitting on her ex-husbands lap right next to her, giggling like a drunk school girl, so why even bother...

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 12: Missing Mirth [D2]

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Continuation of: Prompt 9. Unwanted Solitude [D1]

Setting: Roughly 1.5 years after the end of the movie and Sinclair has divorced the it’s-absolutely-not-cheating-fucking-one’s-brother-while-married-to-a-sweetheart-bitch but now things are coming to light that you’ve hidden from him — including the very long and pining crush you’ve had of him since you met the man.

A/N: It’s almost seven in the evening (11th of December) and I’m staring at this blank page (obviously, it’s not blank when you read this but bear with me here) and I just have no idea what to write for this second part of the Sinclair duett… Like, no clue. Obviously, they need to get together - HEA guarantee that comes with Rickmas - but I just don’t know how sigh

*insert Spongebob meme - many hours later* Alright, it’s now a little over 12:00 today (12th of December) AND I DID IT! It turned out good, too, I think 👀 Unfortunately I don’t have the chance to send it to my certified Sinclair super-fan ( @snowblossomreads ) for a check but since she had no changes to make last time I’m gonna keep faith and hope I’ve managed to do Sinclair justice in this one as well 🙈 TIME FOR SOME CONFESSIONS AND SMUUUUUUUUT 🔥🔥🔥

Tags/TW’s: Confessions Of Love, Natalie Slander, Fluff, Smut (Explicit), Mentions Emotional Hurt, Mentions Neglecting Oneself, Years Of Secret Pining, Threats Of Violence In Thought, Threat Of Miscommunication (Solved Instantly), and they finally just get together while realising all those years they wanted each other! Whoooop!

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.5k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Missing Mirth

With a pair of Sinclair’s socks on your feet — as yours were drying — you sat down in the dining room with a cup of steamy tea each. Not a word had been spoken yet, and boy-oh-boy was that a strange experience with Sinclair. It was is if the very life in him had been washed out, the missing mirth and lack of joy he usually displayed during the holiday season absolutely nowhere to be found.

“Oh, right, a treat,” he declared and jumped out of his chair before striding in a rush toward the kitchen. You listened as he rummaged around in there for a moment, your stomach knotting further and further. At the same time, embarrassment of your quite sudden honesty seemed to infiltrate your thoughts — giving the knots in your stomach further reason to tighten. Why did I have to blurt it all out like that? I never blurt things out yet I even felt it was good to just get it out in the open like that? You sighed, squeezing the ear of the delicate teacup between your fingers. I’m such an idiot, and now he’s not even talking to me — what the hell do I do with a silent Sinclair?

As if on cue, the man entered with a tray stocked up with cookies. “There we go, a treat,” he announced but his voice was not quite as it should, nor were there any signs of him having eaten one while filling up the tray which was beyond odd. “Wait a minute—” you looked at the familiar cookies “—you haven’t eaten all of them yet? What’s wrong with you?” you blurted in disbelief as the tin you had left at his doorstep nearly a week ago with the very cookies now offered had obviously not run out within two days as it always did. The fact Sinclair seemed to have lost his appetite was not a red flag, it was a giant air horn blasting the loudest of warnings ever.

Sinclair looked sheepish but also sad, a strange combination seemingly rendering him speechless as he simply shrugged his shoulders while leaning back in his chair. “Sinclair,” you started, softening your voice as the knot in your stomach turned into a gnawing sensation. “Are you okay? There are no decorations up, and you're not acting as you normally do… I mean, there’s cookies left and you're not…” His eyes widened slightly. “I’m as fine and dandy as any old bloke could be.” “You’re not, though.”

He looked down at his tea. “Alright, amending my statement. I’m as fine and dandy as any old bloke who’s gone through a divorce with a woman not even willing or wanting to fight for the marriage, who also happened to be cheating during said marriage, and who also happened to do said cheating with an estranged and quite bumbling brother. And, as we are all for cherries on tops here in this house, I’ll add to boot I have not been enjoying any food at all as of late. A travesty, mind you, and far worse than the never-ending torrent of what-ifs playing through my head mixed with never-lessening nightmares of said cheater and bumbling cheater’s brother possibly fucking in the very bed I sleep in.”

You gawked at him. Barely a breath had been drawn while he’d laid it all out in one quick string of words. Alright, that had not quite been the way you’d imagined the conversation would go — Sinclair was honest and straight to the point at most times but regarding this, you hadn’t quite expected him to lay it all out so fully. “Okay, and what can I do to help?” you asked, not knowing what else to say. “Absolutely nothing. However, you made some very big statements standing in the remnants of my dishwasher’s uproar and those I wouldn’t mind getting clarifications on.”

Neither of you had touched your teas or the treats laid out, and now your stomach was too twisted up to even use the stuff as a way of pausing the conversation. But you had said some really honest things and you did stand by what you said even if said statements had been stated in a bit too much of a rush and with far too little thought dedicated to what would happen once you spilled the beans. You had thought about it over the past years several times but now, in the actual aftermath, all those thoughts didn’t come to you.

“Facts?” you asked quietly, spinning the teacup a little back and forth on the table by its ear. “Always facts.” You drew a deep breath. “Well, might as well…” you said to yourself before straightening and looking right at the man you found to be the most beautiful in all of the world. Despite the missing mirth, the lack of glow in his eyes and the less shiny hair along with the more hunched shoulder. He was still the most beautiful, but he lacked the lustre that was him. You gritted your teeth for a second as you truly took him in. That fucking bitch, I swear, if I find myself face to face with her my fist will do the talking rather than my mouth. Both perhaps — neither of them will be pleasant though.

But, despite the hate that sizzled in you, no words ever came about it. You couldn’t quite find the words to tell the facts either at first. Sinclair waited, oddly patient for the time being while your thoughts spun and you got tongue-tied while you tried to relax your body from the sudden rage at the thought of the woman who’d hurt him so badly.

“Out with it, Y/n,” he urged. “You can’t just tell me all those things in there and then not elaborate.” You sighed, feeling both uncomfortable and as if you’d put yourself in a sticky spot. “I know…” “Then elaborate, tell me, because I’m not sure what to do with myself if you’re sitting here not willing to speak again because it was lies—” “What? No!” Your heart jolted in your chest. “No, no it wasn’t lies, I just— Ugh, I’m not good with words. You know that. I don’t talk much.” “You listen well but talking is required when having a conversation, and you agreed to a conversation over a cup of tea in dry clothes. With all conditions met of the agreement I need you to just lay it out for me. People are already avoiding me, and walking on eggshells ever since the news broke and the gossipers got hold of some of the information…”

You wrapped your hands around the warm cup, your entire body tensing. “I hated her.” “Yes, I understood that.” “And I would never do or say anything that could jeopardize your happiness, and even if I hated her, and hated you two together, I couldn’t say anything ‘cus you looked happy with her. Your happiness is the most important.” “Hate?” “Yes.” Sinclair blew a raspberry, sinking down in his chair further. “Well, I never would have guessed it was that bad. She even liked you, didn’t she?” “No, Natalie only tolerated all of us because you made us all gather all the time. She was never nice to me, you know. Not that that matters, there was just something about her I hated. A sense of her being false, fake. I hate fake people.”

Sinclair looked at you, his brows scrunched in confusion. “Yet, you’ve never said anything about how you feel? Isn’t that false of you, then?” “Pfth, no, I never said how I feel out of respect. I never did anything regarding how I feel, or what I’ve thought because of the whole situation at large. I knew I was only ever your friend, the married man’s friend who happens to be good at listening, that’s all.” Sinclair nodded. “True. I never would have guessed…” “Obviously, you’re also way too good for me so even if you’d been single and all that jazz, I still hadn’t done anything about it.” “So, why tell me now?”

How were you to tell him the truth about that? Was it best to come right out and say it, or would it be better with some omissions? Not lies, but omissions? “I can see the wheels turning. Just, tell me the truth,” he said and there was a tired sweetness to his voice you had never heard before. “Truth?” “Yes, truth.” “All of it?” “How much of it can there be?”

You dove in, finally finding your voice and words. You talked for several minutes about how you hated seeing him with someone who didn’t appreciate him, how you hated the effect she’d had on him and what the divorce had done to him. You spoke at length about all the little details - from her altering her hair to fit in with the crowd to the mismatched behaviours of the two and all the way down to the missing commonalities between them.

“…and she doesn’t even like reading whereas you never stop. I remember her lamenting about you reading in bed after sex—” his eyes widened and his face turned whiter “—and I’m fully aware I wasn’t meant to hear about that but she didn’t hear me come in when she was on the phone and I caught the end of the conversation.” Sinclair looked ashen. “You have quite a lot in that head of yours.” “I listen, I hear, I look and I remember stuff. I don’t need to talk or be noticed by others to take in information, you know.” “Fair enough. But, I don’t believe anyone could be in a room with you and not notice you’re there.” “Ha! Sure, Sinclair, sure. You never noticed.” “I noticed… It wasn’t my place to notice, given being in love and married but I noticed. Quite a fault in my personality to notice things, really. Just looking around a room gives me too much to notice in every manner.”

You drew a steadying breath, feeling both relieved and crushed at the same time. “Yeah, you notice everything, except the obvious things — apparently.” “Well, some things you don’t want to notice. And if you don’t know there’s something there to notice then how are you supposed to notice it? It’s like playing hide and seek without letting the seeker know to look for the hiders.” “Well, perhaps it’s better not to notice sometime.” “In this instance, not particularly. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been taken off guard by a Trojan horse freely welcomed in my own home had I noticed things. Who knows. One can never be sure.”

You weren’t really sure exactly what you were talking about anymore but the way he looked at you had your palms heating and your cheeks burning. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Obviously, you’re still mourning the bitch— sorry, the relationship and life you guys had together given how you’re acting.” “No, no, you said it at just the right time. I stopped mourning months ago, this is something else.”

You straightened, blinking and tilting your head. “Something else?” “You’re very good at hiding things. I never would have guessed you wanted anything more than a polite friendship with me. You never gave even one hint.” “It was never a good time. When was I supposed to say to you that I had feelings for you?” “Had? As in past tense?” You stiffened. “Well… No… Present…” You shook your head. “Not that it matters. I’ll be your friend as long as you need. Obviously, your lack of an appetite and the fact the homemade cookies are still here is more than a sign you’re not in the right state of mind.” “Right state of mind?” “Well, yes. You’re obviously in some kind of depressive episode and I’ll help you and support you and be your friend until you get out of it.” Why am I saying this? I don’t want that, and I can’t stay his friend for an eternity, I’d end up dying a lonely woman with ten cats eating my corpse…

“What if I don’t want you as a friend?” His words had your throat closing up, your heart turned into a stampeding horse in your chest and the world suddenly seemed icy. “W-what?” you asked, not sure how the conversation got so turned about and flipped on its end. “What if I don’t want you as a friend, what then?” What then? What the fuck do you mean?!

You gulped a breath down. “That’s your choice…” “It’s a mutual choice, isn’t it?” “What? No, if you don’t want to be friends with me any longer we’ll go our separate ways like perfectly mature adults—” “Y/n, you’re not hearing me. For once, I might add, you’re quite bad at listening to me.”

He stood while I gaped at him. Never had I been accused of being a bad listener. It was one of very few things I was actually very good at, Sinclair even said so himself in the kitchen before — didn’t he? I had no time to think more about it as he walked up and crouched before me. “Can you hear me better from this distance?” “I— Sinclair, I could hear you just fine before.” He arched a brow at me, smiling softly. “Apparently, you couldn’t. Or maybe I wasn’t expressing myself well enough. Communication goes both ways as many studies have shown. If one part of the communication circle fails then the whole thing breaks down and the communication turns to dust. Not unlike how arguments often go, well, it certainly starts arguments when communication fails — no matter in what part of the circle the fault lies.”

You looked down at him, seeing his golden hair and the handsome features of his face so close again had your heart in a twist. And, right now, you didn’t know if that was a good twist or a bad one. “What are you saying?” He chuckled, the sweet sound music to your ears as it had been so long. “I am trying to say I do not want to be friends, I want to be more. Through this whole mess, the one constant thing has been you, even before this mess, you were a certain constant. I couldn’t allow myself to think anything more of it before, I was married and in love so there really couldn’t be anything more to it. Now, well, perhaps there is something to the whole love makes you blind saying. There has to be a reason it has stayed alive and remained accurate for centuries, no? Something has to be said for it. In this instant, I’d say the belief of being in love had me blind to love.”

You gaped at him. Through his whole monologue, you’d barely been able to breathe — despite loving his usual chatty personality reappearing this time you wished he had just gotten to the point so you could make your heart stop racing and possibly prevent a heart attack. “Are you saying… you’re in love with me?” His eyes softened. “I should speak plainly for once. Sorry, darling. Yes, I’m in love with you.” You stiffened, your mind not believing what your ears were hearing. “In love with me?” “Yes.” “But, I’m in love with you.” He chuckled. “Yes, rather fantastic coincidence — even if I don’t believe in coincidences. Studies have shown—” To hell with studies! Without thinking for another second, you leaned in, took his warm face in your hands, and kissed him harshly. His thin lips were stiff against yours for a heartbeat and then his hands landed on your thighs and he kissed you back. The world fell away and your shoulders relaxed as the sweet taste of him invaded your mouth. Kissing him was all you had dreamt it would be and more.

His tongue dipped out, your lips parted, and the kiss deepened. Your mind turned blank, zeroing in on him and him alone as his hands squeezed your thighs and slid upwards in intervals. They were warm and gentle — nearly careful. “Sinclair,” you moaned into his mouth. “Are you sure?” you continued as your lips parted and your eyes locked. “As sure as I’ve ever been.”

His fingers grasped the back of your neck a moment later, squeezing softly before rubbing back and forth. “You have been on my mind for a long time,” he said. “Now, hearing you feel for me as I feel for you, there is no reason to be patient or linger in the past. History may be written inaccurately by the winners of it, twisting facts and glorifying the wrongful ones at times. But, right now, I feel like one of those winners and I want to make the future wonderful with you so our history is gloriously accurately beautiful.” You bit your lip, holding back tears at his endearing words. “I want that, too.”

He kissed you again, diving in in desperation with a deep groan seeping into you from him as your hands roamed and his caressed in tune with his tongue. There were too many clothes, too little time, and far too much stumbling about happening as you clung to each other while moving through the house until you reached the stairs.

He paused, kissing you softly on the lips. “As delicious as the finest of desserts,” he whispered before grabbing your hand and walking up the stairs with you behind him — stumbling on unsteady legs while his gentle hold of your hand kept you from falling in the midst of desperation and warmth taking over your body.

How on earth you ended up here, thanks to a dishwasher breaking, you weren’t quite sure but you were certain that speaking the truth and opening up was part of it. For so long, you had remained silent — remained a supportive friend, a quiet listener, a treat-giving one — now you had spoken up and the world seemed to align with your wish for the first time in as long as you could remember.

Sinclair squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing along your knuckles as you rushed to the bedroom. Your step faltered, seeing the large bed with beige bedding and white pillows had your stomach knotting. She slept in that, and he fucked her here, and kissed her, and held her, and read after— you couldn’t finish the thought.

“Sweet-treat?” Sinclair asked as you stood stock-still just inside the door frame. “New sheets?” you asked, your voice quiet but your eyes glaring at the beautiful bed. “New sheets, new mattress, new pillows, new covers, new everything but frame,” he said in a rush and you drew a breath of relief even if it technically still was the same bed. “I couldn’t sleep in it not knowing if they had…” he trailed off. You nodded. “Yeah…”

The silence stretched for a moment as you both looked at each other. It was odd, being in silence with Sinclair. “Let’s wipe history clean like the winners tend to do,” you whispered and stepped toward him. His shoulder softened. “Please,” he replied quietly and the sweetness in his eyes, the soft smile tugging his lips up, and the gentle way his lips met yours had you swooning.

The tempo picked up, hands roamed, lips kissed, tongues danced and the world fell away around you both. “Off,” you said in an exhale while tugging at his shirt. “Off,” he replied while gliding his hands down your sides, tugging at the fabric of your outfit. Then you both stripped in a rush, there was no time for gentle undressing or seductive stripping when your body burned for his and his eyes shined with want for you.

Crashing into bed, you tumbled around, uncoordinated and inexperienced with each other’s bodies. He licked at your peaked nipples while your hands caressed his shoulders. Your hair got tangled and his dishevelled in a glorious golden heap you had to run your hands through that very instant. “Mmmmh,” he hummed as your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. His mouth latched on around your nipples as he nestled himself between your thighs. The warmth of his body was a wonder to feel. You moaned before panting his name. “Sinclair, Clair, oh,” you mewled as he suckled and kissed. “Gorgeous,” he whispered before kissing his way from one breast to the other as your back arched.

His hand glided down your side before squeezing your thigh softly. “You are absolutely stunning,” he murmured before kissing his way up your neck in a rush only to captivate you with a look of pure want as he rose above you. “I want you,” you said. “Please,” you continued as you reached down and folded your hand around his straining cock before pumping him in a measured rhythm. He groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as his lips parted on a deep exhale.

You hardened your hand, swiping your thump over his tip where pre-cum had formed. A moan escaped you as he sunk a bit and you could pump his cock while the tip of him stroked your clit — the sensation overwhelming and arousing while not being nearly enough as you burned for him to touch you everywhere.

He dove in, kissing and nipping at your throat, your lips, your cheek and your earlobe. His motions were soft — caressing — yet still fervent and hasty. “I want you, I want you to fill me,” you panted while holding back a whimper as your core contracted around nothing. “Yes,” he panted, groaning in tune with your moans.

He reached down and you lost contact with his cock as he rose a bit between your legs but before a whimper could leave you his fingers stroked your clit and then down. You panted and his fingers dove inside, two from the very start as you were warm and tender for him — yet he asked if it felt good, your moans and nods all the answer you were able to give.

He pumped your cunt, gentle and measured strokes slowly turning more hasty as his hips began to buck and you had to release his cock as he rocked back. “I need you, god, I need you,” he groaned before removing his fingers and grabbing his cock. Before he pushed himself in he hooked you with his eyes. “Clair?” you asked, nearly thrashing beneath him with the tip of his cock right at your entrance and the glorious view of him between your naked thighs everything you had ever dreamt of it to be. “I want you,” he murmured through his ragged breathing. “Tell me you want me to, tell me if you want me to stop, tell me if—” You whimpered. “Please, please just fuck me like I’ve wished for years.”

He needed no more from you than that, it seemed. He pushed forward, stretching you wide as he slowly filled the void you had been clenching around for far too long. “Oh fuck,” you hissed in pleasure while arching your back and pushing your head into the pillow below. You wrapped your legs around him as he leaned forward with a deep moan of pleasure as his hands planted themselves on each side of your head and you got the most spectacular view of his face. The scrunched brows, the parted lips, the slight tilting of his head exposing his neck as he took you all the way — pushing his way to the hilt and filling you completely.

He kept close to you, his hips doing short and quick pumps as he groaned deeply. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as he began picking up speed and your core clenched around him as he pulled further out. “Haaa—!” You whimpered and grabbed at his biceps. “Sinclair, yes, oh yes!” It was all you had ever dreamt of, all you had longed for, and as he leaned forward to hold you close while his hips rocked you back and forth under him you felt as if you’d gone to heaven.

He groaned, holding you tight while angling his hips to take you harder, deeper — how the fuck that was possible you had no idea but by heaven it was amazing. “So good, so so so good,” he purred deeply. “I want to eat you up, lick every inch of you, devour you like the full meal of deliciousness you are, sweet-treat,” he said through moans and groans as he picked up the pace further — rocking the entire bed. “My darling, my Y/n,” he purred before panting wildly.

You were on fire beneath him, holding on to his back while squeezing his hips with your thighs. His pelvis hit your clit as he rocked forward and upwards — pushing you up the bed while deriving a moaned cry from you. “Clair,” you cried out. “I’m— Haaaa!” you stiffened as your core tightened while he kept pummelling you, switching angles and pace in intervals while you both turned warm and misty with sweat. The sweat smell filled your nostrils while the sounds of your bodies joining and the shared pleasure filled the room.

He picked up the pace and you cried out for him. “Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” he groaned through clenched teeth. “So good, you’re so good, so perfect, so perfect,” he murmured as you writhed beneath him, reaching for your peak but holding on for him. “I need— Fuck, Sinclair, please,” you whimpered and he gritted his teeth before slamming his lips against yours while still managing to keep the pace as he took you to heaven.

You stiffened, he groaned into your mouth, and his pace turned into a crazed one. “I’m coming, god, yes, please, yes!” you cried out as an explosion erupted within you, shaking every limb and shooting pulses of pleasure through every fibre. “Hnnnng— Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” he groaned as he stilled while you trembled around him and he pulsed inside you. A deep moan vibrated through his chest and into yours as you held on to him and kissed his shoulder sloppily while your high slowly diminished and his body relaxed further atop you.

You were a mess of sweaty body parts and heaving breaths, but what truly had irrevocably been changed was your heart. You kissed everywhere you could reach as he regained his composure and slipped out of you with a slight squelching sound. Hot fluid leaked down your seem only to pool beneath you on the sheets.

Sinclair leaned up, watching you intently with soft eyes and a relaxed face. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Alright?” You scoffed with a smile. “I’m wonderful, darling. Wonderful,” you said quietly as the warmth inside of you softened every part of your body and mind. “As am I, my sweet-treat.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Now, let’s clean up and have those cookies downstairs. I feel my appetite returning with a vengeance,” he said with a smile so warm and indulgent you could barely keep yourself from bursting into tears at seeing the Sinclair you knew so well...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: We got some smut, some fluffy and sweet and warm smut 😍👏 I hope you enjoyed the second part of Sinclair’s fic - my first story about him ever 👀🙈 I don’t know if I’ll write more for him in the future, we’ll see how that goes but this was fun to try! IT certainly warmed me up while sitting here with my double layers of clothes and thick slippers along with a blanket wrapped all around me 😂👌

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Masterlist (wip)

Yellowjackets

Scream

Five Nights at Freddy's

Warrior Nun

Gen V

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Natalie Jayne Roser by Sophia Sinclair