#those blasted fireplaces!!!

[thebramblewood]

The Great Vatore Manor Fire

[milawritess]

just read your gojo fic and it was amazing!! can i ask does megumi end up calling the reader mom to her face or something along those lines in the end? i’m a sucker for the reader being a parent to megumi so was wanting to know how that plays out 💜

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader, mom!Reader & Fushiguro Megumi 

Warnings: angst, Megumi missing his mum :( 

Word count: 2k+

a/n: this takes place after the events of my fic Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

-

Would Megumi ever call you mom to your face?

Yes and no. He’s a bit shy when it comes down to it. 

After nearly dying, you were sick. Your technique became unstable, a flicker of the shadow of what your flames once were. 

Your recovery was hard, harder than anyone could have expected. Your eyes were hollow and sunken; you had lost even more weight, and you were always so tired. Megumi saw you dozing off at the dinner table, in the middle of conversations, and one time while you were even standing. It seemed like a never-ending exhaustion—like your own soul couldn’t withstand being… alive. 

It scared Megumi. More than words could describe. 

When word got around that you couldn't even conjure up more than a spark, Megumi noticed you started to change. You’d disappear for days at a time, you were eating less and less, and you hardly spoke, evident by the strain in your vocal cords when you addressed him or anyone for that matter. He knew you were depressed; he picked up on the signs quickly and felt the weight of your absence. Eventually, it seemed Yuji and Nobara did as well. 

It was starting to get to you, he thinks. But Megumi doesn’t entirely blame you. If he woke up one day unable to conjure his shadows, he thinks he’d lose himself, too. 

Megumi could tell Gojo was starting to worry. He found him taking you out on strolls around the block a few times, trying to get you out of the house you’d much rather wallow away in. Gojo kept a bright smile on his face the entire time, and he was more open and apparent with his affection for you. His hands were always on your hip, around your shoulders, or your hand was tightly wrapped in his. Megumi wondered if it was to be closer to you or to help you keep your balance. Probably both; Gojo walked slower than usual, half strides that still never seemed quite slow enough to match yours. 

It felt like you were just… disintegrating right before everyone’s eyes. To Megumi, it was like watching an angel fall from grace. 

One day, he finds you and Gojo on the couch. After finishing his classes, he went to the store to buy your favorite soup, crackers, and some energy drinks he hoped might perk you up, even just a bit. He let himself into the Gojo estate after knocking and receiving no answer. It wasn't a big deal. Not too long ago, it was his home, too, and it's not like nobody was home. He could sense Gojo's presence. It was oddly overwhelming and dense. 

He sees why when he finds you. 

The room was warm—warm enough to make him break a sweat in his uniform upon entering. The fireplace was crackling, and the central heat was on blast. You were sprawled out on the couch in the main room, and Gojo was behind you, holding you to his chest while you slept. Megumi was ready to leave the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and leave. It didn’t feel right intruding, but-

You were shivering. 

He doesn’t get it—why nothing could keep you warm. His whole life, you’ve always brought a warmth that extended beyond your kindness and soft smiles. It was the kind of warmth you shared with him— from those oversized winter coats you bought him, those knitted gloves you make him every year, and you. 

He remembers being small and how you’d heat your hands before holding his tightly. Back then, he never had numb knuckles or fingertips whenever you were around. Not only that, you could just radiate warmth, effortlessly warming the air around you. He’s seen you do it a few times when the people around you got too cold. It was like walking past a sauna, a warm breeze that always caught others off guard. 

He remembers you doing it just a few weeks ago. Yuji’s eyes widened, and he jumped up and down, annoyingly asking a million questions about your technique. You looked a bit prideful when he compared you to a fire-breathing dragon, which, ironically, might have been the best comparison for you. 

He hated that you shivered now. With several blankets, the room cranked to eighty degrees, and Gojo beside you still wasn't enough. He hated that there wasn’t much anyone could do—anything he could do. 

Quietly, he ambles upstairs, yanking the blanket off the bed in his old room. When he returns to the living room, he throws it over you and Gojo. 

Gojo doesn’t move much but opens one eye, eyeing Megumi for a moment. He acknowledged Gojo with a nod, knowing that he wasn’t asleep. His six eyes have followed him since he knocked on the front door.  

However, he notices that Gojo has sweat beading down his temple, his white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. Megumi hadn’t associated himself with Gojo much since the incident, but… he’s happy he’s with you, doing everything he can to keep you safe, protected, and warm, even at his own expense. 

The corner of Gojos' lip twitches before his eye closes again. 

Megumi leaves a note on the counter before leaving. 

Mom, 

I bought you some food from the market. It’s in the fridge. Get well soon. 

— Megumi 

-

It’s when Gojo takes a leave of absence from teaching that Megumi can feel it sinking in—a dark foreboding, an anxiousness that tied knots around his heart, keeping him up late into the night. 

“I’m worried,” Yuji admitted sullenly. “What if… what if the damage was so bad she won’t fully heal? I know regenerating cursed energy takes a while, but it’s been weeks.” 

“I really hope that’s not the case,” Nobara sighs, resting her elbows on the table and looking out into the distance.  “It must be serious for Gojo-Sensei to leave.”

“I can’t imagine how painful it must have been,” Yuji winces a bit, merely playing with the fries on his plate. “… Urggg!” Yuji wines, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t even wanna be at this stupid sandwich shop without Sensei. It’s not right!”

“Relax, I’ll order her something before leaving. I’ll drop it off at their place,” Megumi grouses, pulling himself away from his thoughts. 

Yuji peeks at Megumi between his fingers. “…Can I come?”

Hell no, is what Megumi wants to say, but he bites his tongue. Tsk. You’d probably like to see Yuji—Nobara too. 

“Fine,” Megumi laments between gritted teeth. “Just- don’t bother her too much. We drop the food off, and then we leave.”

Of course, Yuji doesn’t listen. 

“Sensei, it was crazy! First, it went—boom! Then skeeert, and wham! And then, and then- I went flying! Right into the wall! But it was a short wall! I flipped right over it!”

You held a cup of warm tea in your hands and smiled softly, eagerly nodding along and giggling at Yuji. He animated the story with excitement, bouncing on his toes, and his voice echoed through the halls as he made quirky sounds. Megumi rolled his eyes, finding his friend rather obnoxious, but you looked happy. He supposed that was all that really mattered. 

However, Megumi wonders if you have a single clue as to what Yuji is talking about. He surely didn’t. 

Yuji threw himself down on the couch adjacent to where you sat, right beside Nobara. “Man… they banned me. Can you believe that?”

“They banned you? That’s egregious.”

“I know, right!”

You wiggle your eyebrows before taking a sip of your tea. “Want me to beat up the director?”

Yuji lets out a heartfelt laugh. “No, but that would be kinda funny,” he sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to start going to other skating rinks.”

“Sensei-” Nobara freezes, your name slipping from her lips. 

Megumi couldn’t see what those two saw. He opted for staying in the corner of the room, watching you interact with his two friends. It was hard for him, he realized bitterly, to even look at you. So he stayed in the corner, content with just watching over you from a distance. But suddenly, the air is knocked from his lungs. 

Things weren’t supposed to be like this. 

Nobara reaches forward quickly, nearly dropping her tea as she does. She rips out three tissues from the tissue box before shoving them in your hands. 

However, Yuji freezes. His face goes white as a sheet. 

You lean forward, holding the tissue to your nose. Nobara jumps up, putting her hands on your shoulders as she encourages you to stand. “We’ll be right back! Going to the ladies room!”

It’s only when you two walk past him that he sees the bloody tissue, crimson dripping from your nose. Yuji remains silent on the couch, fiddling with his hands and looking at nothing in particular. He looks like he just saw a ghost, and Megumi doesn’t blame him. He felt the same way; however, he had the will to move. In a haze, his feet carry him to the kitchen. He finds Gojo there, plating the food Megumi brought you and putting it in the microwave. 

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you too, brat.”

“Just tell me already.”

Gojo sighs. “Yeesh. Everything’s fine, you little gremlin. Nothing you gotta worry about.”

“H-Her nose just started bleeding! Out of nowhere.”

Gojo seems to pause for a moment before going back to what he was doing. “Seems Nobara has it handled. They’re on their way back to the living room now.”

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Megumi nearly pleads. He wants to accuse Gojo of not caring, of not doing whatever he can for you during your difficult recovery, but the bitter words never make it past his lips. Megumi knows he is. Even when anger threatens to blind Megumi, he remembers that you and Gojo have weird dynamics that often leave people’s heads spinning; however, the love is always there, alive and apparent. He just had to know where to look. 

Gojo loves you, and more importantly, he makes you happy. Megumi knew that even if he didn’t always understand it. 

Gojo sighed before reaching for the sink and turning on the faucet. Megumi gives an odd look, but Gojo grins before tapping his ear. Oh. Right. If you wanted to, you could easily pick up on what they were discussing. Megumi imagines you wouldn’t feel great knowing they were speaking about you—even if it came from a place of worry and concern. You didn’t need anything else being added to your plate. 

“Is she sick?”  

Gojo crosses his arms before leaning his back against the counter. “She is,” he answers honestly. Megumi wanted the truth, yet he flinched when it was handed to him. “She is sick.”

How can he do that? Sound so indifferent? But, as he looks at Gojo, Megumi notices that he's uncharacteristically stoic, almost stern, as he hands him the cold truth.  Gojo didn’t like what was happening as much as Megumi, but there was no avoiding the truth and no sense in lying about it. 

“What can we do?”

“Not much,” Gojo answers easily. “We just… wait.“

Megumi can’t quite understand that. He hates this, hates waiting, day after day. You were weak; Megumi could sense it, Yuji and Nobara, too. 

“She’s outputting more energy than she is retaining… how do you even begin to fix something like that?” Megumi murmurs, his eyes finding the floor. He was afraid. You were his mother, the woman who loved and raised him and always kept him warm. He feels like he’s losing you, like a candle wick running dry of wax. 

Suddenly, Gojo reaches up, ruffling Megumi's dark hair. “She’ll be alright, brat.” Gojo playfully pushes his head back as he pulls away, a small smile now gracing his lips. “Leave all the worrying to me, yeah? I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

-

“Sensei! I’m praying for you!”

Nobara rolls her eyes. “You’re not supposed to tell her, dimwit.”

“I know, but I want her to know I’m praying for her recovery!”

Megumi groans, stepping away from the shrine. “Just shut up, Yuji.”

You smiled from your spot beside Gojo. You were leaning on him, your head resting on his shoulder. One of your arms wrapped around Gojo’s, your fingers grasping his bicep. Your other hand reached down, intertwining your delicate fingers with his. Clinging to his arm, which you held close to your chest, you smiled sweetly as you observed the scene around you. 

You still looked exhausted, and there were still bags under your eyes, but you had enough energy to get out of the house today, at least. 

“Thank you, Yuji,” you smiled. “I appreciate it more than anything.”

He beams, giving two big thumbs up. 

“Whatever,” Nobara brushed Yuji off, stepping forward. “I, on the other hand, got you an omamori!” She presents the small charm to you with a broad and cheesy grin. It was a Kenko charm—an amulet for good health and protection from illness and disease. 

You hesitantly reach for it, clasping it with one of your hands. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to. You have exams coming up that you should be focused on.”

Nobara waves you off harmlessly before looking at Gojo. Her eyes squinted. “You didn’t get her anything. Tsk. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Wha- I got her something! Look! Show them sweets!”

You laugh, putting Nobara’s charm in your pocket and rummaging around. You pull out two other charms—en-musubi charms. Your cheeks flush a bit as you happily present them, and Gojo perks up, looking the proudest he’s ever looked. 

“Two en-musubi? Hm,” Nobara hums passively. “And yet I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

Nobara defiantly turns her head from her Sensei. “Whatever, just tell us how you really feel...”

“Y’know, Satoru,” you play along with a slight grin. “She might be onto something…”

“Wait! Hold on, let me buy you a charm!” Yuji dashed away, ignoring how you protested, yelling to him that it was alright and that you didn’t need another charm. 

Megumi sighs. He hates to admit it, but that idiot's right. He should get you a charm, too. ”I’ll be right back.”

“Megumi, it's okay! I don’t need another one! My pockets are already full!” 

He waves, brushing you off. It was the least he could do. He prayed for you, of course he did, but he wouldn’t say anything about it—unwilling to risk his prayers potentially being unanswered.  So, he walks, eventually catching up with Yuji. However, even with the charm in his hands, it doesn’t feel enough. 

So, after buying your charm, he walks over to another booth. He takes out his wallet to purchase an ema, a wooden plank on which he can write the wish he has been praying for over the past few weeks. 

What Megumi doesn’t see, though, is Gojo nudging you and pointing over to where Megumi stood. Just in time, you see him hanging his ema, placing it alongside hundreds of other wishes. It’s only when Megumi turns around that he notices you and Gojo have been watching him the entire time. 

He coughs, cheeks flushing as he walks away. He puts his head down before walking to where Yuji and Nobara are waiting for him, too embarrassed to look your way. Yuji and Nobara’s smiles were sincere. Yuji even offered him a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. 

There were tears in your eyes as you read the ema. 

I wish for my mother to get well soon. 

-

a/n: just a little blurb following the events of wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow :p

Let me know your thoughts or if I should write a longer fic detailing the reader's recovery. I have a few ideas in mind… 

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[amongemeraldclouds]

Dancing in the rain with the Slytherin boys

Ft. Matteo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party | 2.2k words

Lorenzo Berkshire (established relationship, modern au)

The walk home should have been simple and straightforward. But as you stepped out the bustling restaurant, you traded the warmth for the unexpected downpour. Yet it could not dampen your good mood; the alcohol buzzing in your veins made sure of that.

“You sure?” Enzo asked as you opened the door and faced the rain.

“We’ll be fine, it’s just a short walk,” you suggested and he simply shrugged in agreement.

The song blasting from the restaurant stayed with you and you found yourself singing the lyrics. You wondered how a space cow found its way in a song about summer romance, but it seemed to match the beat of the song. It was good enough for you.

“Are those even the right words?” Enzo asked, a small laugh accompanying his question. It was not.

“Space cows can be wherever they want to be!” You declared.

“Yeah space cows!” He cheered you on as he started singing with you, ever the supportive boyfriend.

“You know since we’re singing,” you said, a glint in your eye, “we might as well dance. It’s just us here.”

Enzo stopped abruptly in front of you and surprised you with a bow. “My lady,” he said, courteously reaching out his hand. You held a corner of your dress in each hand and curtsied.

You took his hand and found yourself dancing on the empty sidewalk with Lorenzo Berkshire. You hummed the song as you moved, feeling his body move in sync with yours.

When you arrived home, you’d shower and warm up with a cup of tea. You’d spend the rest of the day cuddled beneath cozy sheets, wood crackling in the fireplace. But for now, the rain drowned out everyone and everything else. In that moment, it was just you and him dancing with your silly smiles.

Mattheo Riddle (enemies)

You exited the hall and stepped into the evening air, eager to get away from the music and merriment. You were the furthest thing from feeling festive. Not after your date had ditched you for another pretty girl.

Your cheeks burned with rage and embarrassment and you tried taking deep breaths to steady your nerves.

Just when you thought an already bad evening couldn’t get worse, you saw lightning flash through the sky followed by a crack of thunder. Before you could safely make your way back the castle, you found yourself drenched in the sudden downpour.

With no other outlet for the intense emotions, you released a frustrated scream and your tears soon joined in the rain. You jolted when a warm hand touched your shoulder.

You inhaled the telltale scent of cigarette smoke. Through the blur of tears, you saw Mattheo Riddle. Of all people, it really had to be your enemy. He must have been smoking outside and got caught in the rain.

“What happened to your dashing date?” He spat.

“Come to laugh at me, have you?” You said bitterly. “He’s off with a prettier girl,” you said, not sure why you were even talking to him.

“Why, I’ll break his face” he started and it was your turn to put his hand on your shoulder.

“But why? Don’t you hate me?” You asked, confusion mixing with your cocktail of rage, disappointment, and weariness.

“Obviously,” he said quickly then added, “but only I can be horrible to you.”

“You can’t be possessive over your enemy, that’s not how it works,” you shot back.

“I can be possessive over who I want to be,” he moved closer, arguing.

You sighed. It had been a long day. “Fine, just let me wallow here in peace.” You muttered, “didn’t even get to bloody dance.”

He studied you closely, it was unfair how gorgeous you managed to look despite the tears and soaking rain. The look in your eyes broke something in him.

You were stunned when you found yourself in his arms. “I’m only doing this so I don’t have to look at your crying face. This is for my benefit,” he explained, trying to sound annoyed.

Then he really was annoyed when he realized how nice it felt. To distract himself, he started to move, swaying you both to the beat of a song only he could hear. It soothed the storm raging within you.

“For the record, this never happened,” Mattheo stated, quick to deny everything.

“As if I want everyone to know I danced with you,” you said even as you matched his rhythm, “no thank you.”

“Good,” he stated.

“Good,” you replied, not wanting him to have the last word.

There was an odd comfort dancing with Mattheo. You could overanalyse it later. For now, you savoured how secure you felt in his arms, his body warm against you. Electric sparks lit within you as if lightning coursed through you.

Hidden by the onslaught of rain, you could pretend you’re not enemies even if it’s only for a moment.

Draco Malfoy (established relationship, modern au, Yule Ball)

The regal melody of classical music greeted you as the footman opened the limousine door and the cold wind caressed your hair. Draco waited near the door in his crisp tailored suit, his hair neatly gelled back. You took his outstretched hand and smoothed your hand over your dress when you exited the car. You were fashionably late and ready to make a grand entrance at the Yule Ball.

“Ready to party?” He asked. Salazar, you were gorgeous. He was eager to show you off to everyone.

“You mean get drunk and dance the night away? Count me in!” You leaned in, inhaling his expensive cologne. 

You had just taken two steps away from the car when thunder clapped and the sky rumbled ominously. Draco put a protective arm around you as if he could save you from the elements.

“Let’s get inside quickly, yeah?” You nodded wordlessly, trying to walk as fast as you could in heels. Despite his rush, he was patient enough to match your pace, placing you as his first priority even when the first drops of rain fell on your heads.

“Bloody storm,” he muttered. Before you knew it, the sky unleashed a torrential downpour, soaking you from head to toe. You gasped. Hours of hair and makeup was smeared off by Mother Nature in a matter of seconds.

You could sense the thoughts in Draco’s head: “how much would this cost me at the dry cleaners,” “this suit was made for balls and dinner parties, not mud and rain,” and “how dare the elements!”

Instead he looked at you, worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could see the disappointment in your eyes and the set of your jaw. You were doing your best to hold it together.

“Not the kind of ball I expected” he said, turning to face you, “but we’re here and there’s music around us. May I have this dance?”

You laughed at him, but when he didn’t join you, you blinked. He shrugged as if to say ‘why not?’

For the second time this evening, you took his hand and he spun you around. Water droplets traced your movements and he watched you in slow motion. It’s ridiculous how you still looked perfect despite everything. He was relieved to hear a small laugh escape you.

He wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you in, his other hand still firmly holding yours. You leaned in his shoulder, “sorry this didn’t work out the way you expected.”

He shook his head. “Whatever do you mean? I’m dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world. I’m still the luckiest man here tonight.”

Tom Riddle (established relationship, spicy but not smut)

Tom Riddle did not do parties. Yet he somehow found himself walking alongside you, accompanying you to one.

“I want to dance!” You declared.

“I’d rather die,” he muttered.

You laughed and took his hand, leading him outside the castle grounds.

“This isn’t the way to the party,” he observed.

“It’s a compromise, we’ll bring the party to us,” you grinned. He sighed in surrender.

“Hear that?” You asked, the faint party music audible from where you stood. You took his hand and started moving. “I’ll look less silly if you joined me?” You offered hopefully.

“Then we’ll both look silly,” he stated.

As if Mother Nature was on his side, rain fell from the sky unceremoniously. You were instantly soaked.

“Come on,” you insisted, still asking him to dance.

“You know I love you all wet and needy doll, but not like this,” he said, not budging from where he was.

“How about this?” You offered, lowering your voice. “After this, we’ll enjoy a nice hot bath together and then I can be wet and needy for you the way you like it.”

He closed his eyes and groaned, already picturing all the sinful things he would do to you. “Fine,” he growled, “you’ll be punished for this doll. I’ll make you regret it.”

You casually shrugged and smiled, “worth it. Now come on, the sooner we dance, the sooner you’ll have me just where you want me.”

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours, his other arm snaked around your waist as he drew you in. Bodies flush together, you felt his hard length against you and you moaned against his lips.

He started moving you both slowly, the upbeat party music long forgotten. You let him lead, glad to have him dance with you in the rain.  

Despite everything he brought his lips to your ear and said in a low voice, moving his hands around your body. “I already have you where I need you.” That hot shower would have to wait.

Theodore Nott  (established relationship)

“As much as I’d love to get away from the party with you amore, it’s storming outside,” Theo said, stopping as you both neared the exit. 

“A little rain wouldn’t hurt,” you grinned and stepped outside, getting drenched within seconds. You welcomed the cold and lifted your head to the sky, raising your arms and spinning. You looked so carefree and it tugged something in Theo’s heart.

“Come back here, we can stay warm indoors,” he offered.

“Too late, join me!” You asked, running towards him. Instead your shoe slipped on the wet grass and you lost your balance. Theo’s eyes widened as he held his arms out as if he could catch you.

He saw you on the floor, shoulders shaking and he rushed towards you. When he neared you, he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, your laughter piercing through his concern and he breathed a sigh of relief. “If it brought you out here, it’s worth it,” you thought aloud as he helped you back up your feet again.

“Come on, someone’s got to keep me upright. Dance with me, caro,” you said, wrapping your arms around him.

“With no music?” He asked skeptically. He was not making this easy.

You looked at him, listening closely to the rumbling in the clouds. Any second now. Lightning struck and you raised your finger. On cue, you heard the crack of thunder. “There,” you said, taking a step back to hold his hands. You started spinning around again, taking him with you this time as you raised your head up the sky again.

You were so full of life, your energy so infectious, that Theo let the rain wash away his protests. He mirrored you and lifted his head up the sky, feeling the raindrops on his face. The things he did for love, he sighed inwardly as he smiled.

Blaise Zabini (established relationship, modern au)

You laughed as the first drops of rain fell. It was sweet relief after a sweltering afternoon at the festival. You raised your head up, welcoming the rain, and bopped your head side to side to the beat of the music. 

You looked to the side and saw your boyfriend, Blaise, already watching you. He was a man of few words, but his expressions and actions told you all you needed to know. It took forever to convince him to join you at a festival where it would be crowded, loud, and now muddy. But here he was, grinning at you.

Blaise held out his hand to take your phone and he tucked it safely in your tiny waterproof bag that he carried for you. You pecked a kiss on his cheek to thank him. He didn’t seem to mind the rain though you could tell he was trying hard not to be bothered by the cold and mud.

You grabbed his hand, waiting for the DJ to drop the beat. You mirrored his grin in anticipation, the bass building up slowly as the rain fell down heavily. Your heart thumped along the music’s beat, your body dancing along the rhythm, the crowd electric as the music built up to its crescendo.

You counted down with other festival-goers, breaths held: 3, 2, 1.

The beat dropped. You launched yourself in the air, bringing Blaise with you, chanting along with the crowd. Everyone else blurred as you kept your eyes on him, watching his eyes glow with excitement.

It may have been dark and stormy around you, but right in front of you, his smile was all the sunshine you needed.

A/N: Based on a super cute request I received! Original ask will not be published for a bit as there are multiple ideas in there I’d like to play around with.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

I have a little request if that’s alright😊

Could you possibly do a like fluffy aftercare fic with Rhys? Like I love the smut but sometimes that really fluffy aftercare with him checking in on you and making sure you are okay is even better. Him getting a bath ready and helping you clean up and him feeding you.

Basically what I’m trying to say is fluffy smut with fluffy aftercare is delicious lol

I absolutely love your Rhys fics!!! I’m DEVOURING Love and War and just your Rhys fics on general lol

I hope you’re taking care of yourself and have a great day sweetheart💜💜

I love requests! Send as many as you like! <3 Rhys doesn't get enough love so I've decided to roll up my sleeves and put out as many fics as possible and it makes me so happy to see other people enjoying them as much as me! I hope you like this one! <3

-----

Vacation Days

It's the crackling of logs in the fireplace that awakens you; the hiss of flames and the hint of pine that perfumes the air a gentle alarm clock that makes you roll over onto your side to peer out the window to see how early in the morning it is. The sky is still gray, though it could be the encroaching storm clouds that darken the sky and not the time.

You drag the heavy, fur lined blanket up over your head and bury your face in the pillow. Whatever the case, it's too early! And you're too comfortable to get up.

The bed dips beside you, blankets shifting as another body climbs into the mountain of furs needed to keep out the deep Illyrian chill. Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against a very bare, and very icy chest.

You give a little squeak of discomfort as your mate tosses a leg around your waist, effectively trapping you against his body.

"Rhhhhyyyyssssss," you whine, voice still thick with sleep.

He kisses the top of your head, hands soothing down your back, even as the deep baritone of his laugh rumbles through his chest. "Morning, love."

"No morning. Sleep." You grumble, burying your head in his tattooed chest and squeezing your eyes shut. "We're on vacation. I'm sleeping."

The hand on your back trails lower, until he can, teasingly, give your ass a squeeze. "I can think of a few other activities we could be doing in this bed for our vacation."

In the early morning haze, your shields are completely down, and he slips right into your mind with the ghost of a caress, filling your head with images of your running your tongue along his body, tracing tattoo and muscle as he guides you onto his lap, letting you ride him slowly, leisurely, taking your time until you're both a mess. You can taste the tang of salt from the sweat that clings to his bare skin, hear those soft, breathy moans you love to drag out of him as you roll your hips over his, taking him deeper into your tight heat. Despite your desperate attempts to cling to sleep, heat pools in your lower belly.

"Rhys," you warn.

His other hand slips beneath your nightgown, dragging sensual fingers along your spine as his lips drop to your shoulder and leave slow, deliberate kisses along your exposed flesh.

"I'm not doing anything," he lies, the image he crafts shifting to him rolling you onto your back, his head between your legs, tongue lapping against your center, warm and wet in contrast to the bruising grip his hands keep on your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight; you can practically feel him inside you already.

"You're a terrible liar," you retort. Especially when the proof of his own arousal is flush against your hips.

His teeth nip at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his own hips rocking just enough that he can claim it’s an accident, even though you know it's not. You've been mated long enough now, you know his tells, can practically taste how much he wants you, even if he’s clever enough to tamper down on it through the bond so it doesn't blast you with the strength of it. Sometimes it still shocks you, just how much he wants you. You'd thought it would fade over time, had kept yourself up at night early in your relationship, convinced that eventually the High Lord of the Night Court would get bored having a simple little healer for a mate, but every day he calms those fears and shows you just how much he loves and wants you.

You can't help the little sigh that escapes you when he gets his lips on your throat, head tilting back reflexively to give him more access. Though your mind knows what it wants, your body moves on instinct, melting in his grip. This is as natural as breathing. The proximity of his body is calming, soothing the irritation of being woken up, filling your body with warmth.

His lips trail over your throat, along the underside of your jaw, warm breath caressing your quickly flushing skin, as he trails over your chin. He fills your mind with more images: You on your stomach, body flush with the mattress as his lips trail up your spine, hands caressing your bare skin in heated touches; the two of you in the shower, bodies slick with soap, caged against the damp stones and his chest, hips rutting leisurely into each other. Each image is a little more intense than the last, the bond flickering with the need he's been trying to hold at bay until you were more awake and ready for it.

You slide your hands over his bare chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart against your palms as his lips finally slot over yours. Though he is more than ready for you, there is a leisurely pace to his movements; he knows he has time, days even, to have you. You'd come up to Illyria for a long weekend, and the Inner Circle is under strict orders to not contact either of you until you've returned to Velaris. Things have been tense in the city lately, Rhys' office cluttered with all the paperwork necessary to rebuild after the War with Hybern. Your little clinic has been full to the brim for weeks and weeks. Both of you have spent the better part of three months only seeing each other in passing before exhaustion pulls you into bed with little more than a kiss goodnight. You feel that lack of intimacy in his movements, in the way his body moves against yours. There is an air of desperation, only quelled with the knowledge that he can take his time with you.

And you with him. Fully awake now, your senses on alert, you are painfully aware of the ache between your legs. It's been too long. Far too long without this sort of intimacy. Your hands slide up his chest and shoulders, trailing until you can card your fingers through his hair.

He moans against your lips as you scrape your nails against his scalp. "Tell me..." his voice is a ragged, desperate thing, lips brushing with every word like he can't bear to drag himself any further away from your body. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Sleep is distant memory now, though you no longer mind it like you did a few minutes ago. You adjust the placement of your hips and manage to roll him onto his back, hips flush, his erection heavy and hot between your legs. You give your hips a little roll as you brace yourself on your elbows, brushing your chest against his as you lean down to kiss him once more.

"I've been convinced to get up," you tease.

His hands eagerly grip your hips, urging you to grind down on him as his tongue slips behind your teeth. Your bond hums appreciatively at the contact, the months of stress and separation slipping away.

"Although, I hope this doesn't become a habit of yours, you know I need my beauty sleep."

He releases his grip on your hips just long enough to find the hem of your nightgown and push it up and over your shoulders, letting the silken fabric fall somewhere in the pile of blankets you'd disturbed. Deft fingers trace the swell of your breasts, tweaking over nipples pebbled in the cool cabin air, before skimming back down your stomach until he can once again hold your hips.

"How could you possibly get any more beautiful than you already are?" He says, violet eyes tracing every bare inch of you, narrowing in on the lone piece of clothing separating you from him.

You kiss him again, trying to hide the blush that dusts your cheeks. You know he can feel it through the bond, know he knows just how much little things like that mean to you.

"So perfect," he murmurs, chasing after you when you break the kiss. You'd think you had starved him of affection for years on end with the way he keeps coming back, body shifting and rocking beneath you. Soft, little moans leave his lips every time you grind yourself a little harder against his cock, still separate from you by the thin layer of his sleep pants and your violet colored panties. You hadn't been paying too much attention to them when you'd changed last night, but the color and the little bow along the waistband are fitting now.

You try to pull away to rid him of his pants, too many layers between you, but he keeps you locked in place with a grip on your hips that's tight enough to leave a bruise.

"Want you out of these pants," you insist.

A small wave of his fingers has both your clothes disappearing into a random pocket realm for the time being, leaving his hands free to position the tip of his weeping cock against your entrance.

The first drag of his tip through your folds makes your head lull back, mouth falling open as you moan unabashedly. It has been far, far too long since you've been able to enjoy him like this.

"Look at my pretty girl, all ready for my cock," Rhys croons. "What was that about being tired, love?"

"Don't remember," you mumble, hands splaying across his chest to brace yourself as he slides into you an inch at a time.

He grins victoriously. "I've missed this."

It's always a bit of a stretch, taking all of him, especially after so long without him, but despite the desperation that claws down the bond at you, he takes his time, letting you adjust.

"Me too," you say, voice a breathless rasp as you try to find your bearings again. He's everywhere, filling you up so thoroughly you forget why you had reservations at all. You should have spent the whole night with him inside you, making up for lost time.

He's barely sheathed inside you before you start rocking your hips, forgoing all patience and chasing the pleasure that has started to build at the base of your spine. It's too much and not enough. Everything you need and yet not quite within reach yet.

He tuts at your neediness, holding you in place with a chuckle. "What's the rush, Darling?"

You gently drag your nails over the plains of his chest. Later, once the bond is satiated a little more, you'll take your time and run your tongue over every swirl of his tattoos. Let the dark ink lead you steadily down between his legs so you can take his glorious cock down your throat, but right now... right now the last three months are obvious in every coiled muscle of your body. You need him to move, hard and fast; to fill you up until the absence no longer feels like such a gaping wound.

"Move, please, Rhys," you beg.

He temporarily lets go of your hips so he can prop himself up on his elbows and kiss you properly, hips shifting upwards, cock driving deeper into your aching core.

You use the freedom to roll your hips, savoring the slight burn as he stretches you out further, body adjusting to his size. It's all a delicious torture you'll come back to time and time again.

You're not going to last very long at this rate, but there's no stopping your body from slowing down, from trying to savor it. The bond knows you still have days left to be slow. When he pulls out of the kiss, your lips automatically drop to his neck, kissing and sucking as many marks into his skin as you can.

One of his hands soothes down your back as the other goes back to your hip, helping you follow the quick pace of his thrusts as he slides almost all the way out of you and then right back in.

"So perfect," he purrs as he hits the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your natural reaction to the stimulation is to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder, and he lets out a groan that makes the coil in your belly even tighter. You love it when he's vocal for you, when he doesn't hold back the obvious sounds of his own enjoyment. Sometimes he gets too focused on your pleasure that he loses sight of his own.

Your bodies find a smooth rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall with the rocking motion of your bodies. The air filled with the sounds of your joining and the soft crackle of flames in the fire place. The flames cast your bodies in an orange halo, you trace the fractions of light across his bronze skin with your lips, just as his hands trace your skin.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, chanted and recited like worship as your bodies meet over and over again. Stars blur across your vision, maybe from your mate, maybe from the bond, it is hard to tell at this point. Not that it matters, as long as the heat coiled in the base of your spine continues to spread and fill you.

Rhys' hand slips between your legs, rubbing tight circles into your dripping heat. He hums appreciatively at the wetness that spills down your thighs, coating his cock in a milky rings as he slides in and out of you.

"'m'close," you murmur into his neck, where you've left a darkening bruise with your teeth. He looks so pretty all marked up by you.

His thrusts stutter at your words, losing the rhythm for a moment as you feel the muscles in his abdomen tighten against your pelvis. "Let go, I've got you," he assures, lips dusting over yours. He won't be far behind.

His fingers rub circles against your clit, drawing that blissful edge closer and closer with every pass. Your breath stutters out of you, hips rocking without rhythm, trying to chase the white hot pleasure that licks up your spine.

His own motions chase after yours, finding the rhythm again, hitting the perfect spot inside you once, twice, and a third before your orgasm crests and washes over you. The clenching of your core around his aching cock drives him into his own release, hips stuttering as he fills you with his own release.

Your bodies slow their movements as you collapse on top of his chest, sticky with sweat and your joint release. His heartbeat slows, becoming steady against your cheek as he catches his breath, hands soothing down your back.

"Did so good for me," he coos, lips pressing soft kisses against the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift shut as you catch your breath, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his body as you come down from your high. The bond finally quiets, content for now, and you stroke a mental hand down it, letting him know just how much he means to you through it.

Once you've both come down from your highs, he rolls you over onto your side so he can slide out of you, lips gently caressing yours when you wince from the over-stimulation. "I'll be right back."

Even though you believe it, it's still a loss, the lack of warmth obvious from the moment he leaves the bed to fill the tub with water. You need him back in your arms immediately and you will not be soothed until it is so.

Like he knows this, he's back quickly, but instead of sliding back under the covers, he lifts you up into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where the tub is full of bubbles and sweet, jasmine scented oils. He doesn't even try to let go of you, especially not when you have your face buried in his neck, just steps into the tub and settles you comfortably in his lap in the delicious heat of the tub.

A sigh escapes your lips as the heat licks up your aching muscles, body relaxing as you close your eyes again. Rhys' hands sooth up your sides, drawing simple patterns into your skin as he rests his head atop yours.

"Are you all right, Darling?"

You let your own fingers trace the water droplets that adorn his tattooed chest, movements leisurely and slow. You can take your time now. "Perfect."

He leans back against the tub with a hum of approval. A flick of his wrist makes the lights dim and candles along the counter flair to life, bathing the room in a soft glow that feels like it's made to match the flicker of starlight you feel dancing around the bridge between your souls.

"I've missed you," you say as you tilt your head back to look at him.

Rhys presses a kiss to your temple as his magic brings a matching set of champagne glasses and bottle to sit along the edge of the tub. "We've spent too long apart," he agrees as a shadow of his power moves to pour the champagne for him. "Let's definitely not make a habit of it."

You take the glass despite the bubbles that drip from your hands and tap it against his in toast. "Agreed."

To go with your drink, a plate of fruits and pastries appears, the later still warm, a curl of steam slipping out the sides. You raise a brow at him. "Whose oven are you pulling these out of?"

He grins as he takes a grape off the plate and offers it to you. "Maybe I made them before you woke up."

The fruit bursts in your mouth, but even the pleasant flavor isn't enough to distract you. "Darling, you are many things, but a pastry chef is not one of them."

"Fair enough," he concedes, bringing a strawberry to your lips this time.

After months of tending to so many other people, it is nice to have someone taking care of you. Your muscles relax further against his body, letting the gentle lapping of the water soothe any residual discomfort as he feeds you.

"I thought about making you something I could cook, but I didn't want to leave you alone that long. We only have so much time before we have to go back."

You take a sip of your champagne and reach for a croissant with chocolate dripping from the sides, but he snags it first and brings it within reach of your mouth for you.

"Maybe we should extend our vacation," you don't like the heaviness you feel when he sighs, not when you finally have a moment to not think about it. "Just for another day or two?"

He steals a bite of your croissant as he thinks about it.

"Amren can handle things for one more day," you suggest as you drag your fingers between the plains of his chest. "We've earned a vacation and more than our fair share of rest."

He leans down to kiss you gently. "That you have, Darling."

"Both of us," you press. "Besides, I didn't get out of our comfy bed for nothing, I think we still have some catching up to do."

Stars glitter in his violet eyes as he takes his glass from the edge of the tub and taps it against yours in another toast. "Yes we do."

[littlest-w01f]

Birchin

"Gangbang" with:

Cazriel x Elsie (Oc) x Feysand

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel invite their mates over to the Berkin after their annual snowball fight

Cw: Gangbang, FxFxMxMxM, FxF, MxF, MxFxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

The night air was crisp and cold, the scent of pine wafting through the forest. The snow fell lightly, dusting everything in a soft blanket of white. Inside the cozy cabin, Feyre and Elsie sat by the crackling fireplace, their laughter filling the room, the Autum female making jokes that had the High Lady of Night doubling over in laughter. They were engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to the fact that their mates were listening in on their chit chat more than being busy soaking in their sweat.

Winter Solstice was always a blast for Feyre and Elsie, the two friends would spend their time making snowmales while their mates had their annual snowball fight, as the sun began to set on the longest night of the year, Feyre and Elsie bundled up in their warmest clothes and sat near the fire in the cabin.

As Feyre and Elsie chatted amiably by the fireplace, their mates lounged nude in the birchin adjacent to the cabin, sweat glistening on their muscular bodies as they recovered from yet another intense snowball fight session. Feyre and Elsie sipped hot cocoa, Elsie' cheeks flushed from the cold and the warmth of the crackling fire while Feyre's body was unbothered by the change in temperature.

"I swear, Rhys and Cassian almost killed each other out there," Feyre laughed, taking another sip of her hot cocoa, catching a marshmallows in her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she glanced at Elsie, who let out a snort of laughter.

"Oh please, those two are always trying to one-up each other," Elsie replied with a grin, her firey locks cascading over her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair. "It's adorable, really. Especially when Az is the one who wins."

Feyre suddenly sat up, a smirk on her face, as she set her cup down, eyes glazing over, "We've been invited to the Birchin. Join our mates inside. If you want."

"Where they are naked and sweating...?" Elsie's breath caught in her throat. Elsie's gaze drifted towards the steam room's door, her mind filled with images of Azriel and Cassian’s muscled forms. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip, her heart pounding against her chest. She looked back at Feyre, her crimson eyes wide and curious. A few years ago, she would deny seeing another male than her mates naked, but now, the thoughts of watching Rhysand and Feyre brought a smile to her lips. "Sure." She said getting up, dusting off her swollen skirt of non-existent dust.

Elsie followed Feyre into the steam room, the heat enveloping them immediately. She could already hear the low murmurs coming from within, punctuated by hearty laughs and the occasional grunt. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw Rhysand lounging in a corner, his muscular body glistening with beads of sweat. His black hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his violet eyes gleamed with mischief as he noticed Feyre's entrance.

Cassian and Azriel, meanwhile, were sprawled out on a bench, legs spread wide, Azriel's head thrown back, Cassian's muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched. He flashed Elsie a wicked grin, his hazel eyes twinkling with desire. "Well, well," he drawled, "look what the cat dragged in."

Azriel's shadows covered his thighs and abs, and the part of him that Elsie craved the most. "No clothes inside, ladies." The shadowsinger growled, eyes going up and down his mate, wings stretching at the sight until Cassian whines he was taking too much space and tried to shove him off with his.

As the shadows enfolded Azriel's muscular frame, creating a tantalizing silhouette, Elsie's heart fluttered. Her eyes traveled down the curves of his sculpted torso, to the shadows that concealed the throbbing cock she knew all too well.

Her gaze then shifted to Rhysand, who lounged casually, yet exuded raw masculinity. His dark eyes glinted with lustful intent as he watched Feyre with a predatory hunger, the two talking in their minds. Cassian, on the other hand, was openly leering at Elsie, his broad chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"As you say, my love." Elsie peeled off her clothes slowly, revealing inch after inch of creamy firey skin. Her curves strained against her lingerie, nipples visibly erect beneath the delicate fabric. With a sensual shrug, she let the garment drop.

Azriel's shadows seemed to pulse hungrily as he drank in the sight of his mate's nearly bare flesh. His breathing grew heavier, the anticipation building within him like a coiled spring ready to release its tension.

Meanwhile, Feyre had stripped down to nothing, her taut stomach and toned legs on full display. Rhysand licked his lips appreciatively, his large hands twitching with the urge to grab hold of her slender hips and pull her close.

Cassian groaned audibly as Elsie's lace hit him square in the face, holding the lingerie, inhaling her scent. "Is this naked enough for you?" The female murmered with a twirl.

The steam room was now filled with the intoxicating aroma of arousal, mingling with the scent of pine and wood smoke. Azriel's shadows danced around him, enhancing his aura of seduction. He watched Elsie with hungry eyes, his cock hardening beneath the protective veil of darkness.

"Come closer, High Lady..." Rhysand's hands found their way to Feyre's waist, pulling her onto his lap. His fingers traced the curves of her body, teasing the hardened peaks of her nipples before sliding down to cup her ass, biting down on her neck as she squealed.

Cassian rose from his seat, his towering height dwarfing Elsie. He pulled her against him, his strong arms wrapping around her body, wings caging her in before pushing Elsie into straddling Azriel's lap.

"So how are we doing this?" Cassian smirked, looking between the two duos, leaning into Elsie and Azriel. He knelt down, face buried in the dimples at the base of his mate's spine, electing a giggle from Elsie.

Elsie's gaze locked with Feyre's over their shoulders, both females feeling the heat of the moment, the unspoken promise of pleasure that lay ahead. Their eyes spoke volumes, filled with lust, admiration, and a hint of mischief.

Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between them - an unspoken permission and desire. Feyre's eyes, smouldering with need, raked over Elsie's curves, lingering on the swell of her breasts and the enticing dip of her waist where the shadowsinger's hands dug, right above where Cassian bit down on her.

Elsie returned the favour, her own crimson eyes drinking in the sight of Feyre's muscular form, her pert nipples standing at attention where Rhsyand's finger's kneaded them. A sultry smile played on Elsie's lips as she imagined running her tongue over the delicate buds.

The females shared a look, getting up and crossing the distance, Feyre and Elsie's mouths met in a passionate kiss, their tongues entwined in a sensual dance, and the atmosphere in the steam room reached a fever pitch as they felt each other up.

Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian watched with avid interest, albeit a little disappointment that their mates had left them, but it quickly resolved into need, their cocks stiff and leaking precum as they fantasized about joining the erotic spectacle unfolding before them. Azriel's shadows enveloped Elsie's body, caressing every curve as Feyre kissed her deeply.

Azriel's shadows wrapped around both females, stroking their sensitive skin as if alive. They slid across Elsie's breasts, teasing her nipples until they were stiff peaks. Meanwhile, her mouth claimed Feyre's, kissing her passionately while her hands roamed her toned physique.

The shadows continued their sensual assault, trailing down to Elsie's hips and thighs, making her gasp into Feyre's mouth. She moaned softly, the vibrations travelling through Feyre's body, adding to the sensations coursing through her.

Feyre's hands explored Elsie's back, slipping down to squeeze her firm ass, drawing her closer. Her own breasts pressed against Elsie's, the hardened nipples rubbing deliciously. The steam room was filled with the sounds of wet kisses and ragged breaths, the air thick with lust.

Feyre pushed Elsie to Rhysand. With a mischievous grin, Rhysand took Elsie in his arms, his hands gripping her thighs open firmly. His cock, rock-hard and throbbing, pressed against her slick folds, teasing her entrance.

"Mmm... I've been waiting for this." Rhysand whispered huskily, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down Elsie's spine. His cock teased at her entrance, rubbing along her slit, coating itself with her juices. He groaned loudly, his eyes rolling back momentarily in ecstasy.

Feyre knelt in front of her mate and friend, leaning in to lick over her cunt and his cock

Feyre's tongue swirled around Rhysand's cock, lapping at the pre-cum oozing from the tip. She took him into her hot mouth, sucking gently as she pulled off to suck Elsie's clit, sealing it between her lips.

Rhysand grunted, his grip on Elsie's ass tightening as he thrust shallowly into her slick heat, loving the way her body heat up. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He growled, nipping at her earlobe.

"Fey- Mmm... Fuck." The shadows continued their ministrations on Elsie, caressing every inch of exposed skin, adding to the overwhelming sensation. Cassian and Azriel watched with lust-filled eyes, their own cocks straining for release as they took in the erotic sight before them of their High Lord and Lady ravishing their mate.

Feyre lavished attention on both Elsie and Rhysand, alternating between long, languid strokes of her tongue along his length and quick flicks over Elsie’s swollen clit, She pulled off, grabbing Rhysand's cock to stroke it a few times before she pressed his cock against Elsie's cunt. "You ready?"

"Yeah..." Elsie moaned wantonly as Rhysand's hard cock nudged against her soaked entrance. Her hips bucked instinctively, seeking more friction. Feyre's hand pumped Rhysand's cock, smearing Elsie's juices along the thick length.

With a wicked grin, Feyre positioned Rhysand at Elsie's opening once more. "Do it," She urged, her eyes meeting the violet of her mate, her voice dripping with desire. "Fuck their mate." Her words caused Cassian and Azriel's breaths to hitch.

Rhysand needed no further encouragement. With a powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside Elsie's tight channel. "Ahhh fuck! So goddamn tight!" He groaned, savoring the feel of her velvety walls squeezing his aching cock.

"Please..." Elsie whispered, nails digging into Rhysand's powerful thighs to have some semblance of control, Azriel's shadows stroking her clit to help accommodate Rhysand. He gripped her hips tightly, hands gentle as he pulled her off a couple inches to slam her back down. Elsie cried out, her head thrown back in pleasure as she felt herself being filled completely by Rhysand's cock.

The steam room echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the symphony of moans and sighs filling the air. Rhysand began to move within Elsie, his hips snapping up, retreating, then plunging deeper still. Each thrust hit her sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her body.

Azriel's shadows roved over Elsie's curves, tracing the outline of her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and continued their relentless stimulation of her clit. Every touch, every movement, was designed to push Elsie closer to the edge of climax.

Cassian pulled Feyre towards himself, Cassian's hands roamed Feyre's body possessively, squeezing her breasts roughly as he captured her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her thoroughly. Feyre moaned into the kiss, grinding her hips against his straining cock.

The room echoed with the symphony of moans, grunts, and the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The air was thick with the musky scent of sex, fueling the insatiable hunger of the five lovers lost in their own worlds of pleasure.

Elsie watched as Azriel pulled Feyre closer by her hair, Feyre's eyes wide at his girthy size, not a shadow on him as they all paid attention to his mate. Rhysand wrapped his arms around Elsie, pressed his head in her hair, inhaling her scent, "We're gonna watch them, ok, princess?"

Cassian trailed his mouth down her neck, planting wet kisses along her pulse point. His hands squeezed her breasts, kneading and tugging at her nipples.

The erotic sight made Elsie's cunt clench around Rhysand's cock. She ground her hips back against him, a silent plea urging him to move. Rhysand obliged, grabbing her hips, and making her ride him.

Feyre looked over at Elsie and Rhysand, seeing the way Rhysand's cock disappeared into Elsie's tight hole, feeling Cassian's cock throb against her own. A whimper escaped her lips, her own arousal building at the thought of watching them all lose control.

With a growl of approval, Azriel allowed Feyre to take his cock into her mouth, her warm tongue swirling around the tip before taking more of him inside. The sight of Feyre sucking him off sent waves of pleasure coursing through Azriel's veins, his shadows intensifying their touch on Elsie's sensitive body.

"Oh Mother-" As Elsie reached her climax, her cunt clenched tightly around Rhysand's cock. Rhysand's thrusts became erratic, his cock pulsating inside her as he chased his own orgasm.

Cassian's cock throbbed inside Feyre's tight cunt, hitting her sweet spot relentlessly. The steam room was now a hotbed of raw carnal energy. Every movement, and every sound amplified the intensity of the moment. Rhysand's cock throbbed inside Elsie.

Watching his mate pleasuring another male stoked Rhysand's arousal further. He thrust into Elsie with renewed vigour, each stroke hitting deeper, his cock rubbing deep against her walls. "Fuck… you're so good," He groaned, his hand moving to pinch and twist one of Elsie's nipples.

"Rhys..." Elsie's eyes crossed, shadows not leaving her as Rhys fucked her through her release.

Cassian could feel Feyre trembling beneath him, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around his cock. He knew she was close, hell, he could barely hold back himself after witnessing Elsie and Rhysand. Gripping Feyre's thighs tightly, he pistoned his hips faster, driving into her cunt with ruthless abandon.

"Yes! Yes! Don't stop!" Feyre wailed, her cries muffled by Azriel's cock thrusting in and out of her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, but there was no pain, only exquisite bliss.

Cassian pounded into Feyre harder and faster, his balls slapping against her clit. He groaned loudly, feeling his orgasm building rapidly. The sight of Rhysand fucking Elsie, coupled with Feyre's tight, warm cunt clenching around his cock was too much for him to bear.

Rhysand watched intently as Cassian pounded into Feyre, her gagging on Azriel's cock, his own orgasm teetering on the edge. Seeing his best friends claim Feyre so fiercely spurred him on, and he increased his pace, driving his throbbing cock even deeper into Elsie's welcoming heat.

Every touch, every movement, was designed to prolong their female's pleasure, Cassian's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on Feyre's thighs tightening like a vice. He let out a guttural groan as he felt his climax approaching, his cock twitching inside her.

Feeling Cassian's cock spasming inside her, Feyre knew he was close. She sucked on Azriel's cock harder, her mouth watering from the effort. With a final pull, she took him all the way to the base, her throat constricting around him as she swallowed and gagged on every inch of his length.

Elsie clamped down on Rhysand's cock in pleasure as she watched her mates take her friend. Rhysand groaned from the grip of her cunt on her cock, as Rhysand spilt his hot seed inside Elsie, she cried out in pleasure, her walls clamping down on him rhythmically.

The scents of their mixed release triggered Feyre's own climax, her cunt clenching around Cassian's cock as she came hard, eyes rolling back. Her throat worked around Azriel's cock, bringing him closer to his.

Cassian let out a primal roar as he exploded inside Feyre, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his release. The sensation of Feyre's cunt spasming around him, combined with the erotic sight of her swallowing Azriel whole, pushed him over the edge.

Azriel's scared fingers dug into Feyre's scalp as he too found his release, almost silent grunts leaving his lips, his cock erupting in her mouth. She tried to drink down every drop of his essence, her body trembling with the force of her own climax.

As the last waves of pleasure washed over them, the five collapsed onto the heated benches, panting heavily. Their skin glistened with sweat, hearts raced.

Feyre lay sprawled across Cassian and Azriel, a contented smile on her face. "That was… incredible," she murmured, her voice hoarse from her earlier cries of ecstasy.

Elsie curled up beside Rhysand, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel his cum leaking out of her cunt, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. "I never knew watching others could be so..." She glanced between Feyre and Rhysand with a shy smile, a blush forming on her cheeks as Azriel's shadows soothed her skin.

As they recovered, their breathing slowly steadying, Feyre gently detached herself from Cassian and Azriel. She crawled over to join Elsie and Rhysand, her movements languid and sensual. Sitting down across Elsie's lap, the female's arms around her waist, she rested her head on Elsie's shoulder, looking up at her with a smile. "Watching you both… It was really hot."

I'm so tired... I don't know how you take them both every day. Feyre's voice rang in her head and she stifled a giggle.

Don't let them hear you say that. Elsie replied back, as Elsie leaned down to meet Feyre's lips with hers, she tasted their mingled sweat and desire. Their tongues danced together in a slow, passionate dance. They kissed deeply, hungrily, savouring the taste of each other mixed with the remnants of their partners' essences.

{General taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings}

{Acotar kinktober taglist: @romanticatheartt}

{Rhysand taglist- @yeonalie}

{Cassian taglist- @yeonalie @nestastits}

{Azriel taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @satorusemepls @fieldofdaisiies}

[thoma-nari]

Navi

Albedo - He smells like acrylic paint, mixed with shampoo mainly elderly people use... Like the really floral ones. It's nice, and smells like a regular overpriced art store.

Amber - Gingerbread... She just does despite never eating them unless its Christmas. Her shampoo is subtle, so no one knows where the gingerbread scent is from.

Barabara - She is subtle, she's not getting any attention from smelling too bad or too good, you'd have to take a six second dog whiff to even realize she uses some floral shampoo.

Bennett - Gun powder, or fire in general. He mainly just feels a bit lucky that his bad luck doesn't lead to him constantly smelling like BO or crap. It isn't great, but there could be worse.

Diluc - Freshly Ironed suits, champagne, and some subtle cedar wood cologne. You'd have to corner him with a gun to ever get him to confess he wears cologne, let alone admit which type he wears.

Diona - She can wear as much perfume, or brush her teeth as much as she wants. But a cat simply escape the fishy smell, it's practically a given for any feline. But it's not overpowering luckily.

Eula - This is specific... But you know those perfumes made for kids that have Disney princesses on it and are like 'Berry blast' or 'Apple sparkles'. She smells like those, artificial fruit scents.

Fischl - Really nice oddly enough, an odd scent but a nice one nonetheless. Like blackberry cobbler or cherry cheesecake, it's uncommon but not unwelcome.

Jean - You know this woman got some perfume bottle she is religious to, only one bottle, specific brand and scent, no others. Miss Dior 'Rose N Roses', gifted to her from Lisa.

Kaeya - Old Kaeya wore axe body spray, but realized he got no babes with axe... So switched to a much nicer cologne. Switches between different Christian Dior depending on which is cheaper.

Klee - A literal child, but if an answer is needed so desperately. Fireplaces and cheap Easter chocolates. Jean makes sure Klee stays clean and smells good.

Lisa - Fresh books and sultry perfume, like the type that is really nice to smell and makes you want to steal a sample. Probably some type of luxury vanilla or cherry perfume.

Mika - Sweet boy, he doesn't really have a strong scent. But if if he's close enough, it odly smells like a clothing store. Like he straight smells like an Old Navy store.

Mona - She smells like an Old library, not in a bad way, it's cozy and comforting. On the rare times she has actual Mora on her, she smells like any salad she ordered bulks off.

Noelle - My girl, my first wish. She smells like croissants and vanilla, some may say roses... But I know she smells like a five star bakery. Just off of vibes alone.

Razor - I adore Razor, I really do. But you can't tell me he doesn't smell like mud and fresh grass... On the good times. Of BO and wet dog... On the bad times. It's 50/50.

Rosaria - Cigarettes, wine, and weed during Mondstadt events she was dragged to and really doesn't want to be there. Overall the scent of a sexy but very dead inside baddie.

Sucrose - Anxiety... Kidding. She likely smells a bit like Albedo since she's always with him, so a mix of acrylic paint, and some lavender from the body wash she uses.

Venti - ALCOHOL AND DEPRESSION. Kidding... Sort of. Very much alcohol, but can cover it up with the scent of baked goods and when sober he can smell like a nice summer day.

[estellardreams]

[Demon King Red belongs to @purble-turble] (Once again I will lore dump)

Considering the circumstances of the Charcoal Bone King AU, it's MK and Macaque who got it the worst.

MK was swiftly recaptured by a sudden and direct attack by the king himself, and with LBD's new powers combined with King Red's extreme drive and obsessive, no one was prepared. But they did try to stop him.

... Nearly getting frozen to death and the noodle shop decimated in the aftermath did not sit well with anyone. And with the ice and fires rapidly spreading, they were forced to abandon Megapolis and flee.

The ice prison MK got locked in was so frigid that he lost feeling in his hands, feet, and face rapidly, constantly shivering in the cold. With the circlet and new ice cuffs/boots, he was practically trapped in the room unless CBK released him momentarily to bond with him.

Meanwhile Macaque has been consistently losing power due to CBK needing to get stronger, taking away chunks of his energy (therefore dropping his glamour) and using it for his own benefit. Not to mention LBD's ice taking over half of his body, icing over half of his face, one side of his six ears, arm, leg, and small shards on his hip. He's also freezing cold, which isn't doing well on top of his burn marks from CBK lashing out at him.

Surprisingly for these two, Macaque was actually the one to use the last of his strength to teleport himself and MK out of the fortress, moving as far as he possibly could through the shadows. He promptly collapsed right on top of Flower Fruit Mountain... Where the Monkie Kids were temporarily hiding out.

Everyone was genuinely so relieved to have MK back, but the poor boy needed so many blankets, hot food, and a fireplace. He couldn't stop shivering until two weeks after his rescue, that's how cold he was.

Macaque eventually got the ice broken off of him as well, knowing full well how much trouble he was probably in with everyone else. Though, it was MK who stepped in and tried to get everyone to help Macaque due to him rescuing MK, and knowing full well that Macaque probably suffered way worse than him at the hands of CBK.

Cue a potential Macaque redemption arc-

... Okay but on the topic of the samadhi fire what if this got combined with a Samadhi Fire Wukong AU/concept? There should be more of those. And it would be super interesting to watch play out, especially considering Red isn't there to teach him (for obvious reasons) meaning MEI is the one who steps in to tutor him on his new fire.

MK eventually asks to get blasted by the samadhi fire to keep warm but we don't talk about that /j

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Light in the darkness; George Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

And here we are again before I go to Megacon down in Orlando for the week, thought I'd post this gem up and see what you all think. Now this is part of the Sirius Black daughter x G.W mini-series so head over to the Masterlist and catch up on those for any new readers out there. To everyone else enjoy my lovelies :)

Warnings: Parental death (Sirius Black's death is shown so get the tissues ready folks), angst, some fluff, good ol Weasley shenanigans, some blood (nothing too graphic just like nosebleed level stuff, but not like that you pervs I KNOW who you are iykyk).

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

__________________________________________________________

The fireplace was roaring with life, I was on the floor playing with my favorite stuffed teddy while humming a song to myself.  Mum was in her rocking chair knitting something for Harry when she suddenly stopped and turned towards the door.

“(Y/n), come my love.” She dropped the blanket and knelt down beside me and picked me up.  She ran up toward the stairs but let out a scream and tripped as our front door was blasted away.  She regained her footing and continued up the stairs.  She took me to their bedroom and opened their wardrobe up.

She turned back towards the door as footsteps could slowly be heard coming up the stairs.  She picked me up and wrapped me in papa James’ invisibility cloak.

“(Y/n), no matter what you see or hear, promise me you won’t come out from this cloak. Promise me.” Mum pleaded.  Her voice trembled with fear and desperation, her eyes glistening with tears.

“I pwomise mummy.” She choked out a sob and kissed my forehead and held me tight.

“I’ll always be watching over you, my little starlight. Never forget you are mine and mine to me.” She then covered my entire body with papa James’ cloak before shutting the wardrobe door.  But before she could shut it fully, I heard uncle Peter’s voice.

“Hello (M/n).” mummy growled as I saw her stand up.

“What are you doing here Pettigrew?”

“Can’t I see an old friend?”

“You are no friend of mine. Not anymore, I saw what would become of James and Lily. The stars never lie.”

“You always were a bright witch. Both literally and figuratively. Ohh no wonder Sirius fell for you.” Uncle Peter sighed lovingly.

“How could you do this to them?”

“It was nothing personal. Truly (M/n), you must understand that nothing would’ve stopped the Dark Lord. He would’ve found them either way.”

“That’s not true. You sold James and Lily to him just to save your own arse! And once the Order finds out about this….”

“To bad you’ll be too dead to even speak. Avada Kedavra!” a flash of green came out and I watched in horror as my mother screams echoed through the house.  My mother’s body glowed a pure white before she finally collapsed and the bright light was quickly snuffed out and mummy was left lying on the floor very still.

I covered my mouth trying to not to make a sound just like mummy told me but tears slid down my face.

“(Y/n)?” uncle Peter soon called out to me.  “Come out now poppet, no need to hide anymore.” The wardrobe door suddenly opened up and I saw uncle Peter standing over me as he looked around for me but thanks to the cloak, I couldn’t be found.  He soon left the room and kept calling out my name for what felt like a long time before all went quiet again.

I continued to stare at mummy’s body before finally taking the cloak off of me and I fearfully crawled up to her.

“Mummy? Mummy wake up.” I poked her cheek but she felt cold to the touch.  Her eyes were opened but the warmth they once had was gone.  I reached out and tugged at her hair as hard as I could and whimpered, “Mummy! Wake up pwease! This not funny!” but she still remained motionless.

“(M/n)?! (Y/n)!?” daddy’s voice soon called out.

“DADDY!!” I cried out.  I heard footsteps racing up the stairs and daddy soon came to the door and I ran to him crying.  “Mummy won’t wake up! Why don’t she wake up?” I saw daddy’s broken face as he stared at mummy with tears running down his face.  He collapsed to his knees and crawled up to mummy and held her in his arms.

“(M/n)? (M/n)? No please, please don’t leave me. C’mon please don’t do this to me. Stay with me my love…..please come back to us.” Tears fell down daddy’s face as he cried into mummy’s neck.  I placed my head into mummy’s tummy and wept.

Daddy soon set mummy down on the ground, his sad face now stoic but his fists clenched so tightly they turned white.  His dark eyes now gave a menacing look as he immediately raced out of the house.

“Daddy! Daddy wait!” I ran after him but as I left the bedroom, the setting had now changed.  I was now my current age and I found myself once again down in the Dept. of Mysteries.

The battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death eaters was in fully swing.  Tonks was helping Luna and Ginny out of firing range, Hermione and Ron followed shortly behind with uncle Remus guarding them, Moody slamming his staff at any surrounding death eaters and Kingsley going after Bellatrix whose maniacal laughter echoed throughout the entire room as the two of them were playing cat and mouse with each other.

“Now listen to me, I need you and (Y/n) to take the others and get out of here.” Dad told Harry and I.

“What? No, I’m staying with you.” Harry said to dad.

“You have done beautifully. Both you and your god-sister. Now let me take it from here.”

“Dad, I’m part of the Order, let me stay and fight with you!” I pleaded.  Something that I should’ve said.

“No darling, you’re the strongest witch to protect them while we fight. Please my darling kit,” he cupped the side of my face.  “I already lost your mother, don’t make me lose you too.” Tears spilled down my face but our moment was broken when I took notice of Lucius and another Death eater about to fire a spell at us.

I took out my wand and summoned a shield around the three of us just as the attack came at us.  Harry and dad got their wands at the ready and they fired their attacks while I was their defense putting up my shield for any attack Lucius and the other Death eater had coming for us but would drop the shield when it was their turn to attack.

Dad managed to send the spare Death eater flying while I used out the Petrificus Totalus spell to make sure he stayed there until more aurors arrived.  Harry then disarmed Lucious Malfoy with the Expelliarmus spell.

“Nice one James!” dad proclaimed.  I watched in awe as my dad with grace and precision fully disarm Lucius before he turned and gave me a look and I nodded to him and together the two of us sent Lucious Malfoy flying across the room.

But that was when I heard those two dreaded words once again.

“AVADA KADAVRA!!” the familiar green light struck my dad and his proud smile he gave to me slowly faded as he gave me and Harry one last look.  His body slowly being consumed by the veil, the light in his dark eyes growing duller just like mum’s had so long ago before he fully disappeared into the veil.

I shot up gasping and I frantically looked around and saw that I was in the flat just above Fred and George’s new shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes.  Sweat coated my brow as I tried to regain my breathing before realizing the horrid truth.

I lost both my parents.  Mum and dad were both gone, taken from me by the same damned curse! And I couldn’t do anything to save either of them.  Granted for my mother’s case I was only three but my dad I—why couldn’t I do more?

I now stood on the roof of the shop looking up at the stars and the half moon that shined over the empty streets of Diagon Alley.  The silence was eerie but it was something that I desperately needed.  The screams of my mother, the last breath of my father continued to ring in my head and I just couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard I tried.

“The nightmares again?” Fred’s voice softly spoke from behind me.  I didn’t answer him.  I heard his footsteps walk toward me and I felt him drape a blanket over me.  He curled in close to me his hand resting on my shoulder as he continued, “(Y/n), George and I have tried to give you as much space as you’ve needed, but we’re worried. You’re not sleeping properly, you’re barely eating. We don’t want to push you but it’s been almost a month since you started acting like this.” I could feel him tuck my hair behind my ear trying to uncover my face, “Can’t you swallow your pride just this once and talk to at least one of us?”

“George.” I softly spoke after a long while of silence, “I want to talk to George.”

“I’ll go get him for you.” He then gently pulled me into his arms and hugged me, my head rest just over his heart.  “I love you so much sis.” Tears stung through my eyes and as I closed my eyes, a single tear fell down my face.  Fred gently kissed my temple before leaving to go get George, I wrapped the blanket further around me and the scent alone made me realize that he had given me Georgie’s blanket.

“Any room in there for me?” George’s voice spoke up behind me.  I turned to face him and held out my arm still gripping the blanket.  George came over and cuddled close to me before taking the end of his blanket and wrapped it around the two of us.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his.  George took my hand gently into his, his thumb gingerly stroking the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

“For what?”

“I thought I was past this stage but I just…..”

“Oi now,” George softly gave me a nudge.  “I don’t know how Fred might’ve worded it sometimes he can be an impatient git. We don’t expect you to slap a smile on your face and move on so quickly. You’re allowed to feel what you need to feel. Even if it means taking a couple steps backward. I—we care about you (Y/n).”

“Thanks Georgie.” I looked up at him and gave him a small smile.  He looked down at me and gave me the same small smile back, his eyes filled with empathy.  “There is actually a reason to why I’ve been acting this way.” The soft empathy soon morphed into concern as I wandlessly summoned the letter that started me on this spiraling path of darkness.

“It still amazes me that you can now do wandless magic.”

“Work harder and you might just catch up Weasley.”

“Now there’s the cheekiness of my girl. Good to know it’s still there deep down.” He gave me another playful nudge with his body before taking the letter.

“Read it out loud.” He looked at me perplexed.

“Are you sure?”

“Just…..read it George.” He looked at the address and saw that it had came from the Ministry of Magic.  He opened it up and read the letter out loud.

“‘Dear Ms. Black, we send our deepest condolences in regards to the loss of your father. Sirius Black was and has always been a proud wizard. We have re-reviewed his case and in the light of new evidence coming into the place we the Ministry of Magic have officially declared him a free man. Regretfully we wish he could have lived to hear of his freedom but as his next of kin, you deserve the knowledge that the crimes that he was falsefully accused of has now been extinguished. Signed, Rufus Scrimgeour Minister of Magic’.”

“They declare my father a free man months after his death.” I scoffed before standing up and pacing along the roof.  My hands wringing through my hair as my breathing sharpened.  “He should’ve been declared free the moment he was falsefully accused, instead they just threw him into Azkaban without a trial. 14 years they call him a wizard killer, a traitor! They took him from me just like Pettigrew took my mother from me! And they think this will forgive them for what they did!?” I screamed the last part in anguish. 

I felt George place his hands on my shoulders to stop me from pacing and he brought me into his arms.  One hand stroking my hair back down trying to tame it while the other rubbed soothing circles on my back.

“My parents are gone! I watched them both die right before my eyes from the same bloody curse! All their hopes, their dreams they had for me are gone!” I wept. “Have I not suffered enough? How many more people must die because of this pointless war!?”

“Shhhh, shhh.” George rested his chin on top of my head as he rocked me back and forth.  “I know, there are days when I feel like just running away from all this. This is a pointless war. All because of the divide between purebloods and mixed bloodlines, it’s rubbish. A completely rubbish reason to start a war.”

“What stops you?”

“My family. Never did I think that anything could tear us apart until after the TriWizard tournament when that git Percy sided with the Ministry over his own family. Breaking our mum’s heart by sending back his Christmas jumper, never have I seen mum be that sad over anything else before. And just from this past year at our final year at Hogwarts, I remembered what Fred had said to me. Everyone needs a little bit of laughter every day, with all that’s going on we should at least take the time to see that there is a reason to laugh even with things aren’t going to good.”

“A light at the end of the tunnel.” I muttered.

“Come again?”

“That’s one of the last things dad ever said to me that Christmas after your dad’s attack at the Ministry. Even in the darkest of tunnels, you must always try to look for the light and hang onto it.”

“Seems great minds think alike.”

“But it’s just so hard now. I’m tired George. I’m so tired.” He gently massaged the back of my neck and I felt him place a soft kiss to the crown of my head.

“Come with me.” I was suddenly picked up and held in George’s arms bridal style and he took me back into the shop.  We came back into the flat and he set me down along the couch.  Using his wand he made the fireplace come to life and a plate of nougat appeared before me. 

“These aren’t the nosebleed nougats are they?” I asked.

“No not this time. I solemnly swear.” He crossed his heart while looking at me dead in the eye.  I hesitantly reached out and grabbed a nougat and gave it a brief sniff before taking a small bite.  Once my nose wasn’t dripping out blood, I knew I was safe.  “This is my first nougat since I had accidentally ate some of your nosebleed nougats.”

“Yeah you had vowed to never have a nougat for as long as you lived after that.”

“And I stuck by that. Had to explain it to Remus and everything. He always made the best nougats especially around Christmas time.”

*Flashback 4th year*

I met with the twins in the Great Hall for Lunch as it was now our free period,  I saw them and Lee sitting together at the Gryffindor table with some nougats on a plate.

“What are you three boys gossiping about now?” I asked as I made myself known.

“Oh just the next upcoming prank on Snape.” Grinned Freddie.

“Again? This is the fifth prank this week alone, he’s gonna catch on.” I said sitting down beside George.

“But this one is brilliant. We cooked it up just this morning.”

“Okay I’ll bite, what is it?”

“Well you know how Snape is on about his potions right?” Fred started off.

“Right.” I said slowly.

“Well we slip this into his cauldron demonstration before class and slip the evidence into Flint’s seat. He’s the perfect scapegoat!” George softly exclaimed.

“I would like to see that buck-tooth git get what’s coming to him. Especially after our last Quidditch match. Danny still has a mild concussion from taking that bludger to the head.”

“Still?” Lee asked incredulously.  I nodded.  I looked at my pocket watch and muttered.

“Bloody hell I’m gonna be late for Transfiguration. See you guys in potions.” I secretly nabbed one of the nougats and took off running out of the Great hall stuffing my face with the nougat sweet.

In class as I was taking notes down I started to feel a bit light-headed.  I brushed it off as probably lack of sleep since I didn’t really sleep well last night.  But as I was writing down some notes, I noticed a drop of blood had fallen onto my assignment.  Followed by another and then another.

I reached up and touched under my nose and felt the tips of my fingers grow wet and when I held them out, my finger tips were covered in blood.  My heart raced as I held my nose and went up to Professor McGonagall’s desk but when I went to stand up, I suddenly felt lightheaded and soon collapsed.

I could hear the faint panicked mutters of the other students followed by Professor McGonagall’s voice telling everyone to back up and her trying to talk to me.  But my world went fuzzy and soon my world went black.

When I awoke I found myself in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey standing over me.

“Look whose awake.”

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“Professor McGonagall had brought you to me with your nose just gushing out blood faster than pouring out water from the tap. You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head when you collapsed otherwise you would’ve bled from two places and from just seeing how much blood you were losing from your nose already, it could’ve worse for you my dear.”

“But I’m okay now, right?”

“Oh you’ll be fine. I managed to stop the bleeding and the spell that was affecting you.”

“I was put under a spell?”

“Well to be honest Miss Black, that’s where it gets a bit tricky.”

“I believe I have the answer to that.” Professor McGonagall’s voice soon rang out as she came in with Fred and George who were giving me their guilty look.  “Boys, tell her what you told me.”

“(Y/n) those nougats that you snuck away as you left us, it wasn’t a normal nougat sweet.” Started Fred as he rubbed his arm shamefully.

“It’s what we call a Nosebleed nougat. But the batch we had planned for Marcus Flint had an extra kick to it. Had we known you had taken it we would’ve warned you to not eat it.” George said as he could barely look me in the eye.

“We’re sorry (Y/n).” they spoke together in the same regretful, sad tone.

“It wasn’t your fault guys. I shouldn’t have snuck the treat to begin with.”

“I spoke with Professor Flitwick and he’s allowed you to recover for the day and be excused from the rest of your classes today. As for you boys, even though I commend you for coming forward and telling me once you found out about Miss Black’s condition, I’m giving you both a day’s detention with me. Tomorrow at 6pm, don’t be late. Now come along boys and we’ll leave Miss Black to rest.” Professor McGonagall soon left the healing wing.

Fred and George looked up at me with tears glistening in their eyes as they shined with regret before they too left without saying another word.

“Well that surely explains a lot. Those boys put more students in my healing wing that all the Quidditch games combined.”

“They’re not so bad. At least not all the time. And it’s nice to know that there is a conscience buried somewhere in those thick heads of theirs. But guess that means I can no longer eat another nougat for as long as I live. It didn’t even taste that far off from how my uncle makes his.”

“Well dear, forgiven or not it’s best to keep an eye out for those two. You never know when those two will strike out at you.”

“I’ve been victim to their pranks before and never have they been this bad. Trust me Madam Pomfrey.”

“Whatever you say dear, now rest up and be sure to drink plenty of fluids tonight.” She set down a cup of water before walking away to do her next task.  I took a drink of water when I noticed something hidden just underneath my bed.

I bent over and pulled out a small bag and saw my favorite books inside as well as my drawing journal.  When I opened it up the first thing that fell out was a small piece of parchment and I saw in the familiar writing of Georgie.

Forgive us? Forgive me? We really didn’t mean to do it, those nosebleed nougats weren’t ever, ever meant for you. Hope you can forgive us, forgive me?

G. W.

“Oh Georgie, of course I forgive you, but you both have forever turned me off from eating nougats ever again.”

*End of Flashback*

“But hey be thankful we hadn’t come up with the puking pastilles yet.”

“Oh that surely would’ve never made me forgive you guys. Our friendship would’ve been finite.” I said doing the throat slicing motion with my hand as I finished one nougat and reached out for another.

“Aww you don’t really mean that. You love us too much.”

“Not at first, don’t you remember when we first met?” George let out a dramatic gasp.

“Are you telling me that (Y/n) Celeste Black hated us? Us? Your two dearest and most treasured friends?”

“Hate is such a strong word. At first you and Fred were like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Annoying and always lingering.”

“We weren’t that bad.”

“Yes you were you liar!”

“Details. Do you remember when we first found the Marauder’s map?”

“Wow, hadn’t thought about that in a long time.”

“I know, yet I remember it like it was yesterday. We were outside Filch’s office waiting for him to leave in order to—”

*Flashback 1st year*

Fred, George and I peeked over the pillars that led to Filch’s office and we waited for him to leave.

“You guys sure about this?” I asked worriedly.

“Stop your worrying (Y/n), besides we need those dung bombs back otherwise how else are we gonna get back at those Slytherin pigs?” Said Fred.

“After what they did to you in potions class they deserve to be punished.” Continued George.

“Brutally punished. Severely.” Fred finished.

“You guys scare me when you get protective like that.” I said.

“Which is why you should be grateful to be on our good side. Where the only pranks we give you are on child’s play level like a good jump scare.” George said.

“Or chattering teeth in your robe pockets.” Echoed Fred.

“And of course my favorite,” George then gave my sides a ticklish squeeze nearly making me yelp loudly but I covered my mouth and shoved him roughly.

“I hate it when you do that Georgie.”

“But I love it, you’ve got a pretty laugh.” I rolled my eyes and we completely ducked behind as Filch and his cat Mrs. Morris soon left his office.

“Alright, if you guys really want to do this. We’ve got to move quickly and quietly.” Once Filch and Mrs. Morris turned the corner of the corridor, we raced towards his office and the boys went on inside while I was the lookout.  “Just find your dung bombs and grab nothing else.”

“Got it.” They both chorused together as they began looking around Filch’s office.  A few minutes went by and the boys still didn’t have any luck.

“Bloody hell he really doesn’t play fair in hide and seek does he?” asked Fred.

“Not at all Fred.”

“Guys, you find them yet?” I asked as I looked out into the corridor.

“Negative raven’s eye.” Said George.  “Brutal this man is.”

“Agreed.” Fred said as I heard paper’s shuffling around.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it. But we need a key.”

“Bloody hell, wait I think I saw one just a moment ago. Let’s see uhh….” I soon spotted Mrs. Morris coming back around the corridor.

“Weasleys, time to go. Morris is heading back this way. And I’d rather not get snitched on by a cat.” I whispered hastily at them.

“We’ve almost got it. Bloody hell this key just doesn’t want to turn!” I heard the boys grunting before they softly cheered.

“Guys I think Morris just spotted me!”

“Okay we’ve got it let’s go! This way!” I was grabbed by the twins as we quickly raced out of the office.  We ran until we came to the staircase that led to their common room.  We collapsed onto the stairs panting heavily.

“Please tell me you guys got them and we didn’t run that fast for nothing.” I panted.

“Did you ever doubt us?” asked Fred as he pulled out some of his homemade dungbombs.

“Also, I managed to swipe this.” George said as he held out what looked like an old parchment.

“What is that?” asked Fred.

“I don’t know but it was lying just right underneath our dungbombs.”

“Why grab that Georgie?” I asked.

“Because the filing cabinet it was in said ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.’ But you got to ask yourself, why would an old piece of blank parchment be considered such a thing?” he did have a point.

“Let’s get into our dorm and see.” Said Fred as he took the parchment into his hand.

“Guess that leaves me out then, huh?” I asked.

“Sorry (Y/n). If we would we could, but our stairs turn into a slide if any other gender tries to enter the opposite’s dormitories. Kinda odd if you ask me.” George said.

“Fine. But if you need a more clever brain to work it out, you know where to find me Weasleys. And I swear if either of you snitches on me about what we did today, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Agreed. Bloody hell you’re pretty scary yourself when you want to be.” Fred said before they spoke the password to the Fat Lady while I headed back to my dorm.

A few days had passed and I was currently in the library doing some homework in peace when I felt something bounce off my head and onto the table.  I saw that it was a rolled up piece of paper so I turned in the direction to where it came from and I saw the twins peeking over.

“I never see you guys in here.” They came over and sat on either side of me.

“We think we’ve got it figured out.” Fred said.

“You mean that old parchment from Filch’s office?”

“What else? But the thing is, I think it knows something we don’t. Just watch.” George said as he took out his wand.  “Reveal to us your secrets.” He gave the parchment a tap with his wand and soon a message slowly started to appear.  My eyes widened as I softly gaped out a ‘whoa’.

“‘Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would like to clarify if the third of your party is present’.” Read Fred.

“Wait what?” I asked.

“That’s what the parchment has been nagging us on everytime we ask it something. It’s like it knows it needed the three of us present.” Said George.

“But why wait for me?”

“We don’t know. Give it a tap and ask it something.” Fred said.  I took out my wand and said.

“I am (Y/n) Celeste Black-Lupin. The third member of this trio, what secrets do you have hidden away?” I tapped my wand to the parchment and another message soon appeared. “‘Messer’s Padfoot and Moony welcome Miss (Y/n) Celeste Black-Lupin to the trio. Messer’s Padfoot especially sends his greetings to such a clever kitten.’”

“Oi watch it Padfoot!” exclaimed George.

“‘Messer’s Moony would like to ensure to Mr. George Weasley that while Miss (Y/n) is clever, there’s no need to be jealous.’” I read out loud.

“Alright, alright now that we’ve got our third right hand. Can we now see what secrets you four have inside?” asked Fred.  A new message read out as Fred read “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would like to congratulate Mr. Weasley, Miss Black-Lupin and Mr. Weasley for successfully retrieving this piece of parchment from Filch. But before our secrets can be revealed, we must first ask that you three discover our secrets in a special location where the heavens meet the Earth.’”

“What does that mean? Heavens meet the Earth?”

“Oh come on guys that one’s easy. Heavens meaning the stars and the Earth mean the tower. The library is too convenient for anyone to hear us talking about it. We gotta head for the Astronomy tower.” I said to them. I looked down as a new message appeared “‘Messer’s Padfoot praises Miss (Y/n) on her cleverness.’”

“Alright let’s go then.” I packed up my stuff and the boys and I headed straight for the Astronomy tower.  Once it was clear that no one was there, we all huddled around with me in the middle holding the parchment all three of us holding our wands.

“Okay, we’re at the Astronomy tower. Who exactly are you four and what lies beneath this parchment?” I asked first.  A new message appeared as Fred read out loud.

“‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs appreciate Mr. Weasley’s, Mr. Weasley’s and Miss Black-Lupin for their patience and curiosity and are willing to give you three one hint into discovering our secrets.’” Then George read the next message that began to appear.

“‘Messer’s Moony would like (Y/n), Fred and George to ask themselves why an old parchment such as this would be taken in the first place?’”

“We’ve been pondering this for days hadn’t we George?” asked Fred.

“Indeed. And we’ve come to the conclusion that an empty piece of parchment that is considered ‘highly dangerous’ doesn’t necessarily mean an evil manner. But for mischief. After all we found this parchment with our dungbombs and a few other tricks we’ve seen at Zonko’s like fireworks and trick-sweets.”

“Messer’s Moony, Padfoot and Prongs would like to say Mr. George Weasley is getting warmer to the truth. Messer’s Padfoot extends this question to Miss (Y/n). Messer’s Padfoot would like to know if she and her friends were to find the truth of this parchment, what would they do with it?” I read out loud.  “Well, if we were to discover what you are, all we’d use it for would be to cause mischief but nothing malicious. And I’d be there to ensure that these two jugheads don’t go too far.”

“Oi!” the twins exclaimed.

“‘Messer’s Moony extends his gratitude and praise that Miss (Y/n) is at least level headed while also being quite cheeky when she needs to be.’” I blushed.  “‘Messer’s Padfoot and Prongs believe that Miss (Y/n) and Moony need to lighten up and not be so uptight.’ Hey!”

“Agreed.” The twins teased as they both poked my ribs forcing me to yelp out and shove them hard.  A new message soon appeared.

“‘Messer’s Prongs would like to ask if by using this parchment, would that mean Fred, George and (Y/n) are up to no good?’” read George.

“Aren’t we always up to no good?” Fred asked sarcastically.

“‘Messer’s Padfoot and Prongs would like to know if they solemnly swear?’” I read out loud.  “Together boys?”

“Together.” They said as they held up their wands.  We held up our wands and said together, “We solemnly swear that we are up to no good.” We gave the parchment a tap and soon the messages disappeared and a map of Hogwarts appeared in red ink as a welcome message read out.  “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, are proud to present the Marauder’s Map’.”

I unfolded the parchment and soon full sized map of the entire school began to reveal itself as footsteps were moving in various places throughout the entire school.  And right beside each footprint was a name of every person in Hogwarts.

“Wicked.” The three of us chorused out.

“It’s the entire school.” I said breathlessly as I unfolded the rest of the parchment now down on the floor.  Each page revealing a new part of Hogwarts with new footsteps and names being pointed out.

“Look at that, there’s Dumbledore in his study!” Fred pointed out.

“And there’s Professor Flitwick talking with Professor Sprout.” I pointed out.

“This map is brilliant! It shows everyone, where they are.” George said.

“What they’re doing.” I continued George’s thoughts before Fred interrupted me.

“Of Every minute.”

“Of every day.” George finished.

“Wait guys look here at the top.” A new message soon began to appear above the map of Hogwarts.  “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs congratulate Fred, George and (Y/n) for being so clever and hope that they enjoy causing fun mischief and chaos just as we did. Messer’s Moony would like to point out though that when one or all three of you are done, simply call out ‘Mischief Managed’ otherwise the sacred secrets of the Marauder’s will be visible to prying eyes.’”

“What does that mean?” asked George.

“Let me try it.” I held up my wand and gave it a tap as I said, “Mischief Managed.” The map soon began to fold itself up and the map of Hogwarts as well as all the messages that had been written disappeared, leaving us with a black parchment once again.

“This is brilliant! Imagine it guys, the mischief we could get away with. No one would be able to find us because we could find all the secret passage ways in and out of the castle.” Fred said as he grabbed the map and held it up high.

“I say we meet at least once a week to look at this map in greater depth that way we can plan out our pranks and tricks.” George said.

“I can get behind that. And like I said, someone’s gotta keep an eye on you two.”

“Oh c’mon (N/n), why do you have to act like our mum?”

“Because if I let you boys run as wild or join into the fray, we’d be expelled faster than you can say Babbling, bumbling band of baboons five times fast.” That’s when the two of them tried to say it but I shook my head and rolled my eyes playfully at them.

*End of flashback*

“I still can’t believe that both your dad and godfather were the creators of the Marauder’s Map. Did they ever know you had it?”

“When Harry got it confiscated he did spill my name to uncle Remus. Thankfully he wasn’t too upset and said that if anyone should’ve found it, he was glad the first one to was an heir to the Map’s secrets.”

“Uhh technically it was me who found it.”

“Yeah but who was the one to figure out its secret message?” I shook my head softly laughing as I reached for the last nougat on the plate.

“Do you remember the Quidditch World cup?” I turned to him perplexed.

“I don’t think anyone could ever forget what happened that night.”

“I know but that’s not exactly what I was referring to. I’m talking about before all that mess with the Death Eaters. Traveling through port key, getting ready for the tournament match, the after-party victory celebration over Ireland’s victory.” George said as he inched himself closer and closer to me until his arm was wrapped behind me as it rested on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” That whole day was in fact a memorable one, probably the most fun I’ve had in a long while since the constant threat of Voldemort returning to Hogwarts since Harry’s arrival.

“That day was honestly the best day of my life. And it wasn’t just because of Ireland’s victory.”

“And what was the reason for it being the best day of your life Georgie?” I felt him stroke his thumb along my shoulder and a shiver went down my spine.

“Because it made me realize what you truly meant to me.”

“George…..”

“I know I’m rubbish for saying this now! You’re hurting and I’m just confusing you but I can’t hold this in any longer. I love you (Y/n) Celeste Black. Ever since the World Cup, my feelings for you changed into something greater. I began thinking back on all the little things we went through. Our friendship together and I don’t want to lose that with you so if I just did, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll—”

I ceased his rambling with a kiss.  I felt his body tense up but I separated from him and whispered to him.

“You talk too much.” We then wrapped our arms around each other and kissed each other deeper this time.  Our love and passion coming into this one kiss. 

My hands brushing through his short ginger locks while he pulled me into his lap to the point where I was straddling him and his hands remained at my waist before the need for air became necessary for both of us.

“I love you too George Fabian Weasley. It was at the time of the Yule Ball when my feelings for you began to change. At first I thought I was going mad but I came to accept it, but I was too afraid of losing you. And then losing my….my dad it—”

“I know, I know.” He reached up and placed a hand to my cheek and I nuzzled into his palm and placed my hand on top of his.

“But you became my light in the darkness. Even my dad saw it, I don’t know if he knew it was you specifically but he knew. He told me that I should at least deserve a happy ending in some part of my story after all the pain and loss I’ve been through.”

“And you do. Why else do you think after all these years I try to make you laugh every day? I think that’s the first thing I began to love about you.” I smiled and pressed my forehead against his.

“Is that why you and Fred agreed to allow me to take co-ownership of the shop?”

“Part of it is for that reason. Half of these products come from that brilliant Ravenclaw brain of yours, it’s only fair we give you the credit you deserve.” I smiled softly and brushed my nose against his and he did the same for me.

“I love you, George Fabian Weasley.”

“I love you more (Y/n) Celeste Black, and I solemnly swear to dedicate my life to making you smile and laugh every day for as long as I live.”

“And I solemnly swear the same to you, George Fabian Weasley.” We both kissed each other until a voice interrupted our moment.

“Not that I don’t enjoy you two lovebirds finally admitting your feelings for one another, I could do without seeing you two snogging first thing in the morning.” George and I separated and it turned out that Fred was right, the two of us had stayed up all night talking and reliving old and fond memories.

“Sorry Fred.” I said to him as I got off of George’s lap.

“Don’t got to apologize to me.” He set his tea down before walking over to us, he sat on his usual spot to my left and brought me into a hug.  He rubbed my arm soothingly as he whispered, “Welcome to the family, sis.” He said to me softly before kissing the top of my head and whispered in my ear, “Though honestly and no judgement against you but I think you chose the wrong twin.”

“Oi!” exclaimed George which made me softly laugh.

“Nice try.” I playfully mocked.

“Sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“Fraid not, my heart’s made its choice.” I said looking up at him.  Fred looked down at me with those soft brown eyes of his.

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Fred shrugged.  “You’ve got a good one Georgie, don’t screw it up.” Fred kissed the top of my head again before leaving his couch.  “It’s opening day today you lot, time to look our best and open this shop for business.”

“Will you be alright? We did just stay up all night after all.” I asked George.

“I’ll be fine, past few weeks have been all-nighters anyway. Besides, Fred and I promised to show you the surprise we had in store for you together.”

“And you really can’t even give me a hint as to what it could be?”

“Well…..” he sang out in a stretch before simply saying, “Nope. You’ll just have to wait love.” I let out a groan as I splayed myself across his lap.

“You know I hate surprises.”

“But unlike most surprises we spring on you, this is one I know you’ll love.” He said stroking through my hair.  “Now come on love,” he bent down and softly kissed my lips.  “We’ve got a big day ahead of us and I could do with some of your famous blueberry pancakes.” I sat up and together George and I walked toward the kitchen to get our day started.

As the day went on and the opening became such a huge success, I thought back to dad’s conversation that last Christmas we spent together.  Being with the boys and helping them with their shop, George and I now finally able to be together as a couple, the darkness that once surrounded my world was starting to grow brighter as the weight of his death was slowly being lifted.

I held my locket tightly in my palm as I closed my eyes and sighed deeply thanking both him and mum.  I was gonna try to hold onto the light that I now had in the darkness, and never let it go.

[exhaustedpirate]

with a little help from your (best) friend

my first 911 fic, pls be gentle with me! and it's unbeta'd so extra gentle, i'm sensitive! i wanted to fix the breakup and fix whatever the fuck eddie (and the others lbfr) was doing as buck's friend post-breakup, so enjoy!

rating: G wordcount: 1966 also on AO3

summary: “Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

(or, what happened after buck and eddie sat down the couch)

Buck knocked at Eddie’s door almost an hour ago. 

They sat down on the couch, silently sipping their beers and staring at the unlit fireplace. Buck and Eddie have been friends for almost 8 years, they know how to exist in silence. 

Buck is just not known for being silent. And yet, there he is, sipping his beer with a far away look while a dark cloud hovers over his head, raining and thundering away at every passing second. Eddie is content to revel in the silence, to appreciate the lightness he hasn’t felt in months, ever since Christopher left. 

Maybe there’s something to be said about taking care of your mental health.

A sharp crack of lightning cracks over his head, bringing him out of his own introspection. He turns to Buck and takes the time to look at him. His best friend’s eyes are red-rimmed and sunken, his hair is a mess and he doesn’t even seem to be enjoying his beer.

“Buck,” Eddie calls quietly and the only reason he knows he was heard is because of the small twitch of Buck’s head. “Are you okay?”

He watches as Buck takes a sip from his beer and then holds the bottle in his hands, elbows at his knees. His thumb rubs against the labels and his eyes trace the movement. Buck’s mouth opens and closes, before he inhales a sharp breath and straightens his back to look at Eddie.

“Why aren’t you wearing pants?” 

Buck asks such an unexpected question that it sparks a malfunction in Eddie’s brain. He can only exhale a chuckle, his eyes going down to his bare legs and putting the dark cloud in his rearview mirror.

“And where’s your mustache?” Buck continues and the smile on his face looks wrong. “I was just getting used to it.”

Eddie laughs. “I got propositioned by a priest.”

“What?” Buck looks at him and it is almost like it lights up his face, like the cloud was never there but there’s still a darkness under his eyes and the evidence of a frown in his brow.

“Well, he wasn’t hitting on me, actually,” Eddie runs his hand through his hair, self-consciously. “But uhm, I went to confession a couple of days ago and I ran into the priest at the juice bar and we talked and he, well, he made me realise that I was punishing myself and not allowing myself joy so I, well…” He gestures down at his body and living room.

“You took off your pants and blasted some music?”

Eddie looks down at his beer, an embarrassed blush creeping onto his cheeks. “When I was a kid I watched this movie with Tom Cruise, in it he dances in his living room without pants and I always wanted to do that.”

“Risky Business.”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie turns to Buck, surprised at him knowing an older movie. “You watched it?”

Something flickers through Buck’s eyes, something like fondness replaced by pain and longing. He nods once he has hidden away all those big emotions behind his walls. “And the mustache?”

“Ah, the mustache was a mask,” Eddie presses his lips together, fingers rubbing against his bare upper lip. “To hide the fact that I’m a failure.”

Buck’s face softens and he puts a hand on Eddie’s wrist. “Eds, you aren’t a failure.”

“I am, Buck,” Eddie nods but smiles softly. “But it’s okay because I am going to try and be better, I need to try and be better. For me and for my son.”

Buck looks searchingly at him for a few seconds more before he nods. “For the record, you look better without the mustache.”

Eddie laughs but quiets slowly when all he gets from Buck is a small smile. He looks over his best friend again, notices him anew. Notices his slumped shoulders, his restless hands, his watery eyes. He places his hand on Buck’s shoulder and watches as his friend takes a stuttering deep breath.

“Are you okay, Buck?” 

His best friend takes another shaky breath and Eddie can tell he’s trying to hide away, but as the exhale shakes out, his eyes get wetter and he’s shaking his head quickly. “No.”

Eddie watches as Buck covers his eyes with one hand and breaks down, sobs wracking through his body, quiet but strong. Quickly, Eddie puts their beers on the coffee table and pulls Buck to him, one hand running up and down his back and the other cradled at the back of his head as he lets Buck cry on his shoulder.

It’s not the first time his best friend has been in this position and Eddie’s been in it a few times before. They trust each other. Eddie can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t asked, if he hadn’t noticed. If he had let himself get so focused on his own issues that he wouldn’t see Buck’s cry for help. 

It had happened before.

Buck’s sobs slow down to a quiet hiccuping but Eddie doesn’t break the hug, keeps running his hand up and down Buck’s spine with a little more pressure than before, trying to provide comfort.

“He broke up with me.” Buck’s voice is hoarse and it's barely above a whisper but Eddie hears it all the same.

“What?”

“I-I asked him to move in and he broke up with me.”

Eddie takes hold of Buck’s face and pulls him away from his shoulder. He pays no mind to the less than put together state of his best friend’s face as he wipes away his tears.

“I need you to breathe, Buck,” Eddie’s tone is strong, maybe a bit demanding, and he keeps Buck’s gaze as the man does as he is told. One raspy breath, two, three. “Tell me what happened.”

Buck looks away for a moment, his eyes glazing over for a second before he takes another deep breath, and then another. Eddie stops himself from telling him how proud he is of him for that. Buck leans back against the couch, hands spread over his thighs slowly running up and down his jeans.

So Eddie listens as Buck tells him about their anniversary dinner and the surprising connection between Tommy and Abby, who Eddie had only heard stories about until the trainwreck. Tells him about the conversation with Josh. Tells him about their talk at the loft, how he asked Tommy to move in with him but he got dumped instead. By the end, Buck’s breathing is irregular and his knuckles are white from where his fists clenched on his thighs.

“Buck,” Eddie calls after a minute, a minute where he lets him get his breathing under control. Buck turns to him and Eddie almost gasps at the pain in there, it’s been a while since he’s seen it in his best friend’s eyes. “Do you love him?”

Eddie doesn’t want to admit that he expects a more truthful answer than he gave Josh, even with Maddie in the room. It’s a big question. But Eddie knows Buck, probably better than he knows himself. They trust each other. 

So he expects the way Buck opens and closes his mouth as he tries to find the words, and then the way he looks away, the way he runs his fingers through his hair and pulls. And then, Eddie expects the answer - maybe not the words but he knows he’ll get the truth. 

“I think I was starting to.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Buck turns sharply to him. “I mean, no, b-but I think I made it clear, Eddie, come on. He’s the one wh-who dumped me and I’m the one getting t-“

“Oh, he’s being stupid,” Eddie interrupts, almost amused. “He got scared and made a rash decision but,” he continues, holding up a finger to quiet Buck. “What I think Josh meant is that Tommy had to go through it on his own and did things that he isn’t proud of. He wanted you to know that Tommy isn’t perfect but doesn’t deserve judgement.”

“I never needed him to be perfect!” Buck snaps, getting up from the couch and pacing back and forth in the living room. It was almost a dance, really, a way to release emotions. Uh. “I just wanted him, he makes me feel good and happy and I think I made him feel that way too but h-he just left, Eddie! He left me there!”

“Do you want him back?”

“Of course I do,” Buck sighs and his fingers end up in his hair again, the other hand on his hip. “But he hurt me.”

“I’ve hurt you before too,” Eddie doesn’t let Buck’s frown stop him. “You were going through something when you hurt your leg and I was going through something too but I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did. We love each other and we fought for our friendship, right?”

Buck presses his lips together but nods.

“Tommy loves you too,” Eddie smiles indulgently at the way Buck’s eyes widen. “Anyone can see it, Buck. So why not fight for what you want?”

Buck looks like he’s chewing the words in his brain, a multitude of possibilities and arguments running around in there. Eddie grins proudly when the tension in his friends shoulders eases and his eyes fill with determination.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“Come here.” Eddie calls as he stands to pull Buck into a tight hug, feeling the lack of tension he felt earlier. 

“Eddie,” Buck whispers as he holds him tight and Eddie hums to acknowledge it. “Please, talk to someone about what you’re going through.”

Eddie chuckles surprised but nods, pulling away to look at Buck’s face. “I will do.”

“Doesn’t have to be a therapist but you really should talk to someone.”

Eddie smiles wider and pulls Buck in again. “I promise, I will.”

“Good,” Buck’s tension eases a little bit more and Eddie warms at his friend’s care. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Put some pants on.” 

They let go of each other with a quiet laugh and it feels good to see Buck’s actual laugh. His best friend takes a deep breath and nods at himself. No matter what happens, he’s happy to see Buck fighting for what he wants and knowing that he has his family to fall back on.

Maybe Eddie should reach out to Tommy after this. He’s his friend too.

“Tell me how it goes.”

Buck nods again. “Thank you, Eddie, really.”

“Anytime,” Eddie taps Buck’s shoulder before pointing a finger at Buck’s face, a clear recreation of a previous talk. “Go talk to Tommy.”

Buck smiles at the reminder and takes another steadying breath. Eddie feels that pride again. His best friend taps him on the arm before he heads to the door. 

When Buck opens the door, he inhales sharply. Eddie steps to the side to see an equally disheveled Tommy on the other side, fist poised to knock.

“Evan?”

“Tommy?”

Eddie grins and joins them at the door, hands on each of their shoulders. “Look at that, an early Christmas miracle,” they both turn to him with overwhelmed wide eyes. “I’m gonna put on some pants, you two can take my couch,” he points his fingers at each of them. “Talk.”

As the door shuts behind Tommy and he hears them shuffling quietly to the couch, Eddie thinks that if those two idiots are willing to fight for each other, then Eddie can find the strength to fight for his own happiness too. Buck has proved that all he needs is some support from his friends.

And he has more support now than he ever had before. He’s sure it’s faster to take a helicopter to El Paso and well, Tommy owes him.

[fandomnerd9602]

Our First Thanksgiving

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Gif belongs to @abimess

You couldn’t believe it. Halloween was a blast for you and your doe hybrid mate Wanda Maximoff. You and her had enter the ‘seasons of firsts’ as you would call it.

Thanksgiving was just on the horizon. Another first holiday for your doe and you. Honestly you loved having these firsts with her. It was like new experiences to share together, to feel the joy and elation that it allows was incomparable.

Your doe had traded her jean shorts for a comfy pair of PJ pants that she wore around the house. Her little deer tail popped out the back of the pants, in truth, it gave you another reason to stare at her perfect form.

One night, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, your mate in question came running into the living room and jumped onto the couch and into your lap.

“So what are we gonna do?” She asked, her doe tail wiggling with anticipation.

“About?” You asked her right back.

“Thanksgiving!” She exclaimed. “My family never celebrated it, you know being from Sokovia and all”

“Well it’s a feast,” you replied, “a time where we gather together and share what we’ve been thankful for over the year”

“She nuzzles you, her antlers fitting just over your head, “I think you know what I’m thankful for, my buck”

You kiss her nose in response. “I promise I’m gonna make this Thanksgiving a memorable one for you, my doe”

She giggles, “I know you will”

You had no idea where to even begin. Your mind races with ideas both good and bad as you walk down the hallways of the sanctuary.

“Hey boss,” Natasha said with a smirk, “need fuel? Your brain looks like it’s running on fumes”

Natasha, your ever loyal wolf hybrid pal guides you into the break room and pours you some coffee.

“So what’s on your mind?” She asks as she gives you coffee.

“Thanksgiving. I wanna make it special for Wanda.” You explain.

“My advice…make a few vegan dishes. She’s probably not gonna want direct turkey.” Natasha explains. “But prepare a small one for me, hey I’m a carnivore after all”

“Just inviting yourself huh?” You ask with a chuckle and a smirk.

“Am I not invited?” Natasha offers a mocking offense. “I’m your buddy, your pal!”

“Of course you’re invited Nat,” you smile at her, “you’re like my sister. Closest thing I had to a family for a long time, Yelena too”

Natasha smiles, her wolf tail wagging a little. “Make some turkey tofu for the future wife, some cranberry sauce, stuffing and a green bean casserole, you’ll be good”

“Future wife?” You look at her a little confused.

“Hey just calls it as I see it. I hear wedding bells for you and your doe in your future” Natasha laughs.

You couldn’t help but blush. You heard those same wedding bells too.

Thanksgiving had arrived. You worked on both the turkey tofu for Wanda and the regular turkey for your wolf hybrid pals. Natasha borough the green bean casserole. Yelena brought the cranberry sauce, joking that she got into several scuffles for it.

Tony handled thanksgiving dinner for the sanctuary. Doctor Strange led the festivities in your place.

You, Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena held a small intimate dinner at your apartment. You had a nice fireplace loop playing on your tv. Wanda and Yelena found themselves watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while you and Natasha worked the kitchen. Eventually, everyone took their place at your small dining table.

Wanda sat next to you, holding your hand under the table. The dinner was nice and simple, conversations faded into something jovial. The wolves couldn’t help but embarrass you by telling Wanda all about your life before her.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel blessed. She had a small family there with her. She had two wolf sisters and the love of her life.

Little did she realize how quickly that little thanksgiving dinner set up would grow over time. Eventually Natasha had to bring a bigger fold out table.

Your first thanksgiving as a couple was also your first one as a family. And as far as Wanda could see, it was just perfect.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @olsenmyolsen @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines

[babybatss-blog]

ALONE

Sam (stardew) x f!reader, 3300 words

summary: maybe it’s a bad idea to get high with your childhood crush, but here you are, crying and praying you didn’t feel the way you did.

a/n: okay this is way angstier than I intended it to be! It ends up being quite sweet, but the beginning is honestly depressing. Bare with it my friends, cause I’m really proud of this one!!!

cw: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! childhood friends to lovers, smoking and getting high on weed. Mentions of family members passing and reader is struggling with intense grief. Swearing, kissing, making out, 69ing, ejaculation and both f and m orgasms. Slight religious comparisons.

No one would expect what would happen tonight, not even you, who has been friends with Sam since birth. Your parents raised you together along with Sebastian and Abigail to always be by each other’s side, exploring your grandparents farm or causing trouble in the town square. But in the back of your head, you always had some strange, borderline inappropriate crush on Sam. Just a simple smile would make your heart flutter, and you spent many late nights crying over some new girlfriend he had for at most a week at your school. But it was wrong. You told yourself that a million times. He was like a brother, not anything more or anything less.

You find yourself at his on a Friday night, hair sprawled on his sheets and skin concealed by a skimpy top and shorts; far too risqué for a day out on the farm. You wore it just for Sam, hoping that it could indulge you in some fantasies you have long dreamt about. It was idiotic to think that anything could happen, but your high brain after smoking a joint together caused some delusional thoughts of childhood escapades to return.

What if something could finally happen between you? No, you can’t think that about one of your best friends. Fucking fool.

You couldn’t blame yourself though, as Sam invited you to have a sleepover at his after a night in the saloon. Since you inherited your Grandparents farm and moved back into your childhood home, it’s been difficult spending a single night there. No matter how much wood is in the fireplace or the volume of music you blast, you can’t escape the cold quietness that comes with that tiny cabin. You miss the times where the farmhouse was always bustling with community members and smelling of homecooked meals, wondering what the world looked like outside of your small town with outstanding naïve. At least you still have your friends, who will be there for you no matter what. You feel those same feelings arise when you’re with Sam though, watching him play his guitar while smoke billows out of your mouth picturesquely. His light blonde hair falls messily over his face, the freckles peaking out like splatters on a canvas. If you were to paint him, you could easily portray every detail, flaw and all. He’s perfect you think, wondering what his lips would taste like on yours.

He abruptly stops the song, sticking his hand out to you. “give me a puff.” You huff at him, handing it over. You can’t help the way your thighs clench when your fingers brush, and somehow you feel as if he is the same, as his eyes linger for a second too long on yours, pink lips enveloping the joint and taking a long breath.

Theres no way he feels the same, don’t be an idiot.

The room reeks of marijuana, something that you know Jodi would kill you for. She was always stressed out of her mind with the two of you, getting into trouble and causing a ruckus. And you feel like that same teenager all over again, doing something your parents would never approve of in a precariously hid secret.

They did know the truth though, and let it happen. You kept him safe, and he kept you sane. A symbiotic relationship. Jodi mostly thought her son was reckless. Unpredictable. Unadulterated. But around you, he became a man, ready to protect and be protected. On nights like this where you have no energy to fight the visions racing in your mind, he would be there, playing your favourite songs on his guitar and staying up to make sure your nightmares don’t get too tense.

As you battle with your subconsciousness to fight the intense guilt eating away at you for such childish caprices, tears start to leak out of your eyes. Sam immediately notices, snuffing out the joint and placing his guitar down. “No… What’s wrong?” He sits by you on the bed, hand brushing some hair out of your eyes. He immediately regrets it, pulling his hand away. This makes you cry even more.

He doesn’t even want to touch you, you’re insane for even considering he liked you back. 

Sam reluctantly shuffles down to lie on his side next to you, face opposite yours. You feel his eyes staring at you, but don’t dare to move. If you do, he might ask what’s wrong. What are you supposed to say? I’m crying because I’m so grateful you are here for me and all I want is to love you like you deserve but it will never be?

The two of you lie like this for at least an hour, frozen like statues, minds running wild. But at least your tears have dried, so you can turn to him and feed into impulses without looking like some hideous beast.

“There she is.” He smiles, crow’s feet appearing by his eyes. “Don’t do that Sam.” You plead, pain striking your chest at how his innocent worlds blush your cheeks. Unaware, he grins, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you down. He straddles you, breath tickling your forehead as he peers over your shocked frame. To any other individual this is inherently sexual, but not to Sam. He starts air punching your face, eliciting a giggle to erupt from your throat. You push him off, and an all-familiar wrestling match ensues. You leap and he twists, you scream and he laughs. This is something you would do with your friends all the time previously, and it feels ever so natural to do it again after all these years. The two of you intertwine like gloves, dodging each other’s clumsy attacks and laughing like wild parrots. But you’re not the same little kids anymore, so you get tired quicker than you used to and the only sounds soon heard are your breaths amalgamating as you gasp for air when you stop, slightly embarrassed by your unfit states. Maybe it’s the smoke that caused your lungs to be this way, or the fact that you’re getting older. More likely, it’s the how close your faces are to each other, him once again on top of you, now pinning your hands up above your head as your core selfishly soils.

It's pathetic honestly, how malleable you are around him. After all these years you believed you could come back to Pelican town as a new person, capable of taking care of yourself after seeing the world. You thought you would be some mature, sexy woman standing in front of him, having her own escapades and somehow showing this clueless man your better than him. But that isn’t reality. When you saw him again, your eyes were puffy from grieving the dead, your hair matted and body frumpy in it’s baggy clothes, and not at all appearing confident or self-assured. What’s worse, you’re still a virgin. That may seem unimportant to the average person, but you always held yourself out in hopes for Sam. So the real world gave you an opportunity to let go of those immature ties, breaking free from what held you back.

None of that matters now, when he says the most unexpected thing you could think of, like a man out of your dreams. His words come out anxious and light, as if he didn’t even expect them himself.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, unable to get the words out. Because if you did, it may not be true. Nonetheless he leans down, pausing mere millimetres away from you. It’s tantalising, but your scared, so you don’t argue with it. This is something you have imagined for years, and it could finally happen. Your lips connect as he brings himself the final way down, a groan leaving his mouth in pleasure. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you already are, but he doesn’t seem to care as one arm slides down to your waist. Not a moment to goes by before his tongue slips between your shaking lips, raking along your teeth and intertwining with yours, saliva tasting earthy just like the cannabis you consumed. The shared kiss is inexperienced, wild and erratic, as if the two of you have been waiting for this moment for years. And you have.

Your hands take the moment to explore every inch of skin you’ve never been able to touch, his back rippling like waves and his chest heaving like a hungry shark. Even those warm eyes stare right at you like the deep blue when you pull away, both unsure of where to go from here.

“What are we doing Sam?” You ask, maintaining the tiniest sliver of mature so you can understand where his head is at. If he were to ask you the same thing, you would say you are doing what’s exactly right. Finally giving into love, surrendering to what you deserve and living as solely each other’s until your dying days. This is it, the first and final time you need to expose yourself. Because this should be your forever, as insane as it sounds.

“I don’t know.” He admits, in a statement far from what you want to hear. “But I’ve wanted this for a long time. So lets see how this goes.” He leans back down after saying this, pure passion drenching his kiss as he practically suffocated you. Your body takes over autopilot after his words, kissing him back while processing what he just said.

He wanted this for a long time? Does that mean he feels the same way? This can’t be real.

The realisation invigorates you, a side coming out nobody has ever had the fortune to experience. You flip him over to be on top, lips barely leaving his for a second as you explore his mouth in turn. His hard on now touches you, and you desperately try to conceal your moan as you realise what you’ve done to him. But you’re exactly the same, every and any bit of friction vibrating within you. You need it. You need him to do whatever he wants, to show you whatever you don’t know and finally leave those secrets only left for lovers behind. You start to roll your hips into his, the two of you making obscene noises as you struggle to keep your kissing going. His fingers dig into your ass, hands trembling at the lewdity the two of you have never experienced before. But you don’t know this yet, and neither does he. You need to break the news sooner or later.

“I need you” You concede, grinding into him with shaky breaths. Understanding the sentiment perfectly, he pushes you away lightly, the two of you now sitting together completely dishevelled but enraptured. “Me too. But I’m… A virgin.”

It’s almost as if your brain blocks out his words due to sheer disbelief, because you just sit there in silence, waiting for him to say something. Just as the prospect of innocence embarrasses you, it seems to also affect him, as his face turns a shade of bright red as he nervously rubs his palm up and down his leg. “Is that weird? Cause like, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I know some girls get grossed out by that and I-“ “Wait what?” You genuinely ask, ignoring his previous sentiment that brought you to this moment. “I-I’m a virgin.” He repeats, eyes bewilderly looking into yours.

“Oh.” You stutter, the exclamation coming out more judgy than you meant it to. Because you never expected this handsome man opposite you to be the same as you in this regard. In your head, he’s had hundreds of experiences like this one, girls basically lining up at his door for just one touch. But he’s just as awkward as you, head about to explode in hopes you still want him just the way he is.

“Me too Sam.” You smile, an invisible barrier of worry breaking instantaneously as the two of you realise you are in the same boat. You lean forward to be on all fours to kiss him, his hand flying up to stabilise you at the jaw as you kiss, much more soft and caring than before. You pull his top up over his head, toned abs rubbing up against your stomach as your heat melds into each other. The two of you feel safe like this, alone in the four walls of his room exploring fantasies you have long thought could never be true. You know it’s true though when your hand brushes against his crotch, feeling how incredibly hard he is and the shivers he elicits after such a soft touch. Pulling away, you look in his eyes to see the daze you have placed him in. “Shall I?”

He nods frantically, and you sit back, pulling his pants and underwear down. His length springs out, precum dribbling slowly down the shaft as it hits his abs. It’s everything you ever dreamed of, throbbing and sore for your touch, as he craves the same thing as you. You spit into your hand and rub them together, before slowly going down the shaft as he moans. Although you would hate to admit it, you’re a tease, moving agonisingly slow as your hands twist and bob. Sam is acting as if you’re going as fast as humanly possible though, his head falling back and hand covering his mouth, attempting to not call out every swear word in the book.

Despite this, your determined to show him what he’s missed out on by never doing this earlier, so you lean down to swirl his tip on your tongue. He practically screams, and you need to pull away to shush him. “Shh, your mum and Vincent are in the house.” He wines, a frail hand grabbing your head and rubbing it possessively. “Please…” He mutters, almost a shell of his former self.

You obediently go back down, hot mouth enveloping his foreskin completely as he bites down on his hand to remain silent. It’s a surprise Sam doesn’t draw blood, because it takes everything in him not to call out your name at the way you envelop him. Your throat takes his member nearly completely as you push further down, eyes filling with tears as you battle against your gag reflex. His length hits the back of your throat soon thereafter, and you begin to pull back and forth, sucking as he shakes beneath you, his musk intoxicating. It doesn’t take long for him to push your spit soaked face away, looking down at you like he just had a religious experience. “Want to sit on my face?” He manages after a bit, and you don’t even bother to respond as you unbutton and pull your shorts and underwear off, revealing your soaked, sensitive cunt to him.

It's just what he dreamed of. Delicate and weak, absolutely begging for his touch. He leans forward to take your shirt and bra off, nipples hard in the air but soon softened as his hands hold them tight. He massages them, dazed vision staring at how they move in his influence. You stop him, pulling his hands away as fast as they came and pushing him to lie down in front of you as you crawl over. His hands hold your squishy thighs as you slowly sink down in a reverse cowgirl position onto his hungry face, and when as you’re close enough, Sam greedily laps up your juices, tasting the sweet nectar he so desperately wanted. Your back arches, groaning at how he satisfies your throbbing with eagerness you didn’t even know was possible. Although you know he is enjoying your squirming at his every move almost as much as you are, you cannot help but lean back down to his cock and envelop it once more.

The two of you suck at each other’s soft spots, desperate in both pleasuring and being pleasured as slopping noises are all that is heard. It’s hard for you not to stop what you are doing as his tongue quickly swirls your clit, threatening your internal explosion but the need to give him as much love as your getting takes over you, throat completely filled with his scent. Sam begins shaking, symbolising his climax taking over as he struggles to keep up his pace within you. “Let go.” You mumble as you pull away, before diving back in. As your mouth does it’s job so does your hands, Twisting and squeezing at the base until he cums right into your mouth. The warm, salty liquid shoots down your throat like a waterfall, Sam’s overstimulated body going completely weak as you take his load. Some of it clings to your lips when you pull away, but you wipe it off, getting to move off his face to give him a rest.

Clearly Sam doesn’t need it though, energy almost as high as his brain when he pulls you back down. “Beautiful girl.” He mumbles, kissing your folds over and over again. You readjust to be right on top of him this time, sinking down and rolling your hips. Your stomach tightens at the sensation, moaning as quiet as possible at how his tongue massages your clit. As he does so, his nose threatens to breach your entrance, wet juices leaking out from within.

“Oh Sam…” You moan, sensations being overridden by complete pleasure. The way his mouth rolls up and down you is like heaven, causing your vision to blur and your mind to go blank.

Sam doesn’t stop there though. Despite how close you are already, he is determined to treat you just how he dreamed it would be. His long pointer and middle finger slide into you, stretching your hole in a way you have never felt. Unexpected, but flawless. A moan comes out of your mouth much louder than you expected, head dropping down and your hands catching yourself before you fall on his toned abs. Your hips grind back and forth on him, as his hands and mouth move as fast as possible.

And that’s when it happens. Your first, true, all-encompassing orgasm. It takes over your body like a possession, sensitivity rising higher like never before. You practically slap your mouth with your hand in order to not alert the whole neighbourhood to what the two of you are doing, but the rocking of the bed as you thrust across his mouth may as well give it away. As it takes over you fully you collapse, quickly rolling off of him to lie at the foot of the bed. This overwhelming feeling is everything you missed out on, and to experience it with the man taking over your dreams for years is a paradise. Your mind runs itself in circles at this euphoric fact, exploring every possibility of the future you may have as he crawls over to you, arms enveloping your naked body. “Thank you.” He mutters, kissing your jaw.

Within his arms you feel safe, like everything is right and how it should be. You turn to kiss him back, tongue circling each other and tasting yourselves like you never have before.

Neither of you know where to go from here, or what the other is thinking, but one thing is certain. You wouldn’t complain if the rest of your life was spent like this.

[peachyfnaf]

Hello chatters. currently 8:30 in the morning, and I've been seeing a lot of Sun love going around (based btw) which reminded me that even though I don't yap about him nearly as much as I do Nexus, Sun was also given such a short end of the stick when it came to this arc.

I don't care for Monty, but I do love Puppet, but the way they both pressured Sun into choosing what to do with Nexus (New Moon at the time)??? that shit is so fucked. and yeah, because I am who I am (a Nexus apologist lol), I was mad and hurt when Sun was unable to tell them to not kill him. but unfortunately that tracks for him.

Sun's trauma response is, most of the time, to freeze. he's done it before when confronted by past Eclipse's, Bloodmoon's- if you're willing to use other dimensions as examples, Servant Sun quite literally froze and surrendered with his hands in the air out of fear when Old Moon first met him.

So, he did it again. he was put in a terrifying situation, and he froze. which led to Nexus freezing in space too amiright ahahahahhhhh

So, shit was already fucked for him at this point. because not only did he lose a close family friend (Solar), tried to help the other 3 through their grief and prioritizing their feelings over his own because he was- objectively- the least close with Solar, lose his brother to madness (which we now know there was like 10x more to that then just 'grief' makin' him act as he did. y'know. glares at Dark Sun and NSP), could basically do NOTHING as Earth was kidnapped by Ruin/Bloodmoon, and Nexus was blasted into space by Puppet.

And even though that was the end of that main arc, dude CONTINUED TO BE HANDED L'S AFTERWARDS. Old Moon being brought back by Monty (Monty.. >:[) without Sun even being asked about it first, Sun not being given the chance to properly heal from/mourn Nexus because O.M was now there, he filled his role, and O.M does not like Nexus. (chatters, I'm gonna warn you, ever since he came back, I've been an Old Moon hater. do not like that guy.) anD THEN EVERYTHING WITH DAZZLE/EVELYN??? july 16th of this year was like a very high peak in what's, to me, a very low-on-the-chart arc, but THAT DOESN'T MEAN SUN WAS OKAY DURING IT JFCCC. the TRAUMA he was reliving during that time HURTED

And even where he is now- he got his magic back, yuippee yayyy!!!

Because of it it seems like he's now intrinsically intertwined with NSP, and multiple people want to use him as a goddamn radar to find Wither Shards now. one of those people literally being The Creator, yaknow, like the stories Biggest Bad???

And another, "oooh, yaknow, that happeneddd, ahahahahhh.." was The Creator psychologically torturing him in one of the darkest SAMS eps' to date because of it.

AND. And, finally, the most recent episode that was Yapped to me about that well. 1, just made me hate O.M more, and 2, made me want to just wrap Sun in a blanket in front of a fireplace. The "Invaded By CRINGY FNAF in Vrchat" one. the way O.M spoke to Sun in that ep, the use of the gravely K.C voice that O.M only uses when making threats, I- I'll fuckin-

LEAVE THAT LITTLE GUY ALONE. I HOPE WHEN YOU AND NEXUS INEVITABLY FIGHT YOU GET CLOCKED IN THE JAW FOR THAT ONE. GOOD LORD.

...I've been typing this for like 50 minutes, apparently I had a lot more to say when it came to Sun than I first thought DGAIEPHDWGWLAH

Canon. canon, please, let Sun do something. let him be the one to free Nexus from NSP corruption, because of how much he's been shown to be resilient to it. let Sun be the one to stop The Creator's next big scheme instead of Moon. let him do things as important as all the others instead of just cleaning. the pieces for him to do so are right there. now put them in place.

[teaandjumpers]

Obikin Clueless AU (WIP Wednesday)

“Blast,” said Obi-Wan as he stared down at the three ties laid out on his bed. 

Apart from some minor differences in color and texture, they all looked interchangeable to him. It was not something he should be fixating on, not with the signing a mere two hours away. 

A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned towards the sound to find Anakin leaning against the door frame. He was dressed for the occasion in flared high-waisted trousers, a semi-sheer ivory lace button down, and black loafers with no socks.

He looked more like a model from a high-end fashion magazine than the teenager who used to fly drones outside their home, repeatedly crashing them into Obi-Wan’s car, much to the younger man’s amusement.  

“What are you doing here?” asked Obi-Wan, surprised to see his step-brother back home from his summer vacation, especially on this day. 

It wasn’t that Anakin didn’t support Obi-Wan’s appointment as managing partner of Qui-Gonn’s firm. In fact, he pushed for it more than anyone, grateful that the mantle wouldn’t pass to him, not having the patience for law and the often slow and tactful art of persuasion. 

The young man had found his passion in engineering, and with an Ivy League degree and a trust fund that had made Obi-Wan choke on a swig of Scotch upon hearing the size of it, Anakin could fund any project he wanted. Or he could do absolutely nothing for the rest of his life and fund other people’s projects, living in the type of splendor that was usually only seen in swanky Hollywood movies. 

But Anakin didn���t like to be idle. It was one of the things Obi-Wan admired about the boy—no, man. At twenty-five, Anakin was very much a man now, and he looked it, too, the way his chest had filled out, the way those long thighs broadened, the way his eyes smoldered, always looking like he was about to take the runway, strike a pose and glare. 

Obi-Wan used to tease him about it, saying things like, “I heard they’re hiring live models for the Versace window display, darling. You should look into it.” 

It would, of course, make Anakin glower even more, prompting the younger man to chase Obi-Wan around the many rooms of their mansion, ready to smother him with a pillow. 

Those were simpler times—before the moment. Before that night in the living room when Obi-Wan was sorting through depositions and Anakin, being the brat that he was, had plopped onto the couch, turned on wrestling, and started chewing on Pringles—loudly. 

“Do you mind,” Obi-Wan had asked, grabbing the remote out from under Anakin and turning off the television. 

“Actually, I do,” said Anakin, attempting to snatch the remote back but failing. “You can work anywhere, Obi-Wan,” he whined. 

“I’m certain you have two televisions in your room, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, holding the remote out of reach behind him. “And one in your bathroom.”

“Yeah, but this is the only room with a TV and a fireplace,” said Anakin, rising to his knees on the couch, attempting to use his height to snatch the remote. 

With one hand pressed firmly against the younger man’s chest, Obi-Wan managed to keep Anakin at bay. 

“You’re such a spoiled brat,” he said, looking up at Anakin with disbelief.  

“Well, you took the only other room with a fireplace, and you don’t believe in having televisions in the bedroom,” Anakin said, mimicking Obi-Wan’s accent.

Distracted by Anakin’s ridiculous attempt at mocking him, Obi-Wan was caught off guard when Anakin lunged at him and pulled the remote from his hand. 

“Ha,” the younger man said triumphantly, turning the television back on. 

On any other day, Obi-Wan would have left it. Would have left the room, let Anakin win, because Anakin almost never gave up on something once he set his sights on it, whether it was a person or getting his way on movie night. 

But that night, Obi-Wan was frustrated—they were falling behind on work, and Anakin, newly graduated from high school, had too much energy. He’d been bouncing through the house all day, and when Obi-Wan finally settled down in a space that Anakin had already torn through, he thought he was safe. 

Not so. And so Anakin, who had already turned his wrestling show back back on, who was reaching for the cylinder of Pringles that had rolled under the couch, didn’t expect Obi-Wan to grab him from behind, didn’t expect his step-brother to hook his arms beneath his armpits, locking the younger man’s arms up in a tight hold. 

Anakin grunted and tried to shake his way out of Obi-Wan’s hold, but it was no use. 

“You forget, I was captain of the wrestling team in college,” said Obi-Wan, huffing the words against the tousled mess that was Anakin’s hair. 

“Community college,” snorted Anakin, and that earned him a sharp tug of the arms, one that brought his body closer to Obi-Wan’s, making it so that Anakin was sitting on Obi-Wan’s lap, squirming in the older man’s lap, and then panting as his movements stilled, as he slid farther into Obi-Wan’s space until his back was pressed up against the other man. 

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved, save for the slow heaving of their chests and the soft shuddering breaths coming from Anakin. The fire crackled in the background and cheers sounded from the television, but Anakin stayed perched atop Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan held him there, the young man’s arms still suspended above his head. 

“They call this the Master Lock,” said Obi-Wan softly, relishing the clenching of Anakin’s jaw and the haughty but quiet “I know” that fell from his lips.

At least a full minute passed before Obi-Wan released his hold. Once free, he assumed Anakin would wrench his body away from him, ready to take up the fight again, but Anakin didn’t move. Or at least he didn’t move away. He turned his head, presenting his profile to Obi-Wan. His eyes were downcast, and it made the heavy line of his lashes even more pronounced. Anakin swallowed, and Obi-Wan tracked the slow path of the movement down Anakin’s throat. 

And then Anakin shifted. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but Obi-Wan most certainly felt it, sitting so still beneath his legal but still very young step-brother. It was a slow rock of Anakin’s hips, not even a rock, but a slight pivot, the weight of Anakin’s hips pressing down then sliding back.

At first, Obi-Wan thought that maybe Anakin was trying to get up, get some momentum before sliding off of him, but then it happened again, the press of Anakin’s cheeks against his thighs and then he was shifting back, sliding closer and closer to his groin. When it happened one more time, the slow grind paired now with a low moan that slipped from Anakin’s pink, parted lips, Obi-Wan shot up from his seat and upended Anakin, too afraid to look back as he fled to his room. 

Obi-Wan had been careful to give Anakin a wide berth since then, not wanting to examine the very un-familial emotions that had coursed through him when he had Anakin on his lap. 

It wasn’t like they were actually brothers. Not by blood at least. But it was still frowned upon, and the other partners at the firm would undoubtedly reconsider appointing Obi-Wan their new managing partner if they knew there was anything untoward going on between him and his step-brother, the current managing partner’s son. 

“I thought you were still in Seville—living it up with Padme,” said Obi-Wan, softening his tone. He felt he might have been a bit too harsh to the younger man when he asked him what he was doing here. 

“I was,” said Anakin, approaching Obi-Wan’s bed and examining the ties alongside the other man. “But I couldn’t miss your big day,” he said, poking Obi-Wan with an elbow.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin’s profile. He was tanned, even more so than usual, and, dear god, he looked beautiful. His lashes were dark and his lips extra pouty, as if he had applied some kind of plumper to it. He really should have been a model, he thought, shaking the words away as quickly as they came.

“Perhaps you can help me pick out a tie for the event?” he asked. “Satine sent them, but they look identical to me.”

“Still letting your ex dress you, Obi-Wan?” Anakin teased as he leaned forward to examine the ties more closely. He turned his nose up at each option, then looked up at Obi-Wan, assessing his wardrobe. 

He eyed the dark blue pleated trousers and the fitted white dress shirt, the one Obi-Wan worried he was now sweating through. Anakin stepped closer, a mere foot separating them now. He brought a hand to Obi-Wan’s throat and undid one of the buttons of his collar. He pulled back to consider his work and unbuttoned one more. 

“No tie,” said Anakin with finality. 

“Did I miss that year where you minored in public relations?”

“Satine knows the press, but I know clothes,” said Anakin, unnecessarily readjusting Obi-Wan’s collar. “The partners chose you because they want someone practical to take over—someone pragmatic who’s not fussy. A tie is fussy.”

“And here I thought they chose me because I’ve only had three losses in my fifteen years of practice.”

“We’re all very impressed,” said Anakin, sarcastic. He smoothed out the nonexistent lines at the front of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Also unnecessary, thought Obi-Wan. 

When Anakin seemed satisfied with his efforts, he pulled away, turning towards the door. But he paused for a moment and turned back, biting his bottom lip before approaching Obi-Wan.

“I’m really proud of you, Obi-Wan,” he said, uncharacteristically sincere. 

It made Obi-Wan blink back at him in surprise, but what surprised him even more was when Anakin leaned in close and, after hesitating for a moment, gripped the thickest part of Obi-Wan’s arm and pressed a soft kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

When Anakin pulled away, his own cheeks were pink, and he glanced at Obi-Wan shyly. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Anakin said, and then he left Obi-Wan on his own, hours away from achieving one of his life-long goals.

Only now, all he would be able to think about was Anakin—Anakin and his impossibly long legs, Anakin and that obscene sheer shirt and the golden warm expanse of skin beneath it, Anakin and those eyes, those eyes that still grew dark when they skirted over Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Anakin and his soft, petal pink lips that were just moments ago pressed against the line where his beard met his cheek. 

Fuck. He was definitely sweating through his shirt now.

- - - -

(Anakin’s outfit)

[stormywanderer]

Tricks of an Ex-rogue

Summary: Balor decides to use his old skills with rope for more explicit purposes. This is smut. Rated: Mature Author Notes: Y/N reader, p in v sex, bondage, over stimulation. This is just a oneshot, not really edited. Above art is official concept art from the game. Art and characters property of Fields of Mistria developer group. Plot/writing my own.

Falling for Balor had been easy. Like slipping fine satin silk over one’s hand. All it took was a sudden rainstorm and you were done for. Running like chickens past the drop box he intended to stop at, right to the house. An offer of mulled wine, some left over tart, a fully stocked fireplace, and soon he had your thighs pressed all the way back as he fucked you slow and sweetly in the fire light. Neither of you were sure when the storm had passed. Only that he had a sudden appreciation for a sweaty body splayed out next to a hearth.

Ever since, you both had been at it like rabbits. Every trip of his to your farm to pick up goods is another excuse to have you alone. Neither of you could trust being caught at the inn, not after the kids had walked into his room for that prank. Instead, the soft double bed, or your couch, or the fireplace hearth, or any other surface in your house had become his preferred place to see you.

Today wasn’t much different, only it was especially different.

“What’s that? I’m not sure I understood.”

Balor damn well understood, you know he did. With the blasted vibrating stone pressed unforgivably against your clit, he knew what he was doing.

You jolted at the electric sensation the flashed through you from your clit. The vibrating stone was relentless and being hung from the ceiling while tied up like wild game in a snare meant there was nothing you could do about it. Except for whine and beg while your thighs begin to shake.

“I-I can’t take any more-“you gasped. Every muscle tensed against the ropes; sensation long gone in your toes though you’re sure they’re curled too. It was all you could do to keep breathing, panting heavily as your chest heaved against the rope that was strapped both under and over your breasts.

He had your legs bent, calves folded behind you and tied to your thighs. The rope made a suitable enough harness, but being suspended meant that you couldn’t close your legs in retaliation if you tried. Arms? Those were also useless now. Folded behind your back and restrained at your forearms, all you could do was clench your fists to manage the onslaught of pleasure.

The only thing free, really, was your head. Which was currently tilted back as the wave of pleasure crested higher, and higher, and-

“Oh- OH - I can’t- I can’t-”

“You can,” Balor promised, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You can, and you will.”

With that, the intensity skyrocketed. The magic stone in his hand pressed firmly to your wet pussy far too much for you to handle. Your thighs shake and hips jolt against the restraints, as another electric flash of pure mind blowing ecstasy shoots right up your center to your chest. Your mind shorts, a shrill shriek breaking through you as your vision flashes white.

And it doesn’t stop at that, pussy clenching around nothing as your orgasm releases on to Balor’s nimble fingers.

“That’s it pretty girl. Look at you doing so well for me.”

Balor slows the intensity to near nothing, a small mercy, as he rubs small soothing circles with it against your clit. It’s several moments before your muscles can relax, aftershocks convulsing through you as you pant. When you do finally fall limp, head rolling forward to rest of Balor’s shoulder, he uses his free hand to stroke your hair.

“I’m so proud of you, you know? That was impressive.” The merchant coos soft praises against your ear. “Such a good girl for me.”

Balor pulls away then, gently cradling your head in his hand still as he looks down between you. Soft, plush, peaks of skin bubble between each cross section of rope. Your breasts are heavy as they bulge out in the makeshift harness. His eyes roam the landscape of skin created by his own hands till his gaze lands on your pussy. Between your thighs, everything is absolutely drenched. The sight is mesmerizing as he plays with you by massaging the still stone between your thighs still. Watching the way it slips between your plump lips.

His distraction is short lived, the sight reminding him of how painfully hard he’s been and that he wants nothing more than to have it be his cock slipping through those perfect lips.

Balor takes your chin in hand, nudging your mouth open.

“Here, hold this for me?” Balor says as he takes the dripping stone, still faintly glowing where a rune etches across one side, and places in your tongue before pressing your mouth shut. Its fills your mouth, completely stuffed. Unfortunately, the act of having skin contact on both sides of the magic item reactivates it and it starts to buzz back to life in your mouth.

Balor pretends to not notice the muffled moan that escapes you. At how readily you take in your own essence as it dripped off his fingers over your lips. Instead, he leans forward to whisper in your ear again.

“Before I continue, are you still okay?”

You nod twice, remembering the explicit instructions he had asked you to follow to be sure you were okay. Two nods to continue.

“Perfect-“ Balor said as he trailed down to kiss your neck.

His kisses become sloppier as he lowers himself to lave over one of your nipples before sucking the pert peak into his mouth. He’s as unrelenting at this. Suckling and mouthing over your nipple till the skin blotches purple, before switching to the other side. His patience comes in spades, still having yet to pleasure himself as you squirm till your breasts bounce against his mouth. Its only when he’s suitably fished with the second, slowly pulling his mouth back with your tit bouncing back with an soft ‘pop’, that he finally pulls away to grip squeeze your hips in his hands. You’re ready too, have been more than ready, dripping slowly on to the rug below you in anticipation.

“You look so good like this-“ Balor hums.

Balor wraps one arm around your waist to support you as his other deals with the knot behind you quickly. You tilt forward, weight no longer supported by the rope as he holds you up. Despite his slim stature Balor is more than able to carry you to the bed. He lowers your gently, before using the rope to turn you around so that your face down on the bed and ass up.

His skilled hands leave your body briefly to relieve himself of his own clothing. First his white shirt, tossed aside, then to his blue pants where his bulge visibly strains for release. He makes quick work of his belt. Without breaking his ministrations across your chest, he whips the belt out and shoves his pants down allowing his aching cock to spring free. You can only hear the shuffling of fabric and the clank of his belt as it drops to the floor.  Next thing you know, he grabs the rope at your hips and yanks you back to the edge of the bed where his cock slips up against your ass as your thighs slip over the edge to frame his own.

There is a brief separation from him as he pulls back. His slips the tip through your folds twice before pressing forward, followed by the slow ache of him filling you to the brim. Practically over spilling from your metaphorical cup as your breath escapes you. You can help the way your muscles flutter around the length of him at his pulls back once again. Only this time, he leans forward to take a fist full of your hair before slamming himself back home.

“Bmmmff!” Or Balor, if your mouth was gagged on the blasted stone.

He chuckles behind you and pulls your hair back more, lifting your front off the bed and arching your head back. “You’ll need to be a little clearer darling, I'm not sure I understood you.”

He sets a purposeful pace. Precise as always as he take’s his time thrusting at just the right angle. Its deepened by your position, your tied bad legs pulling muscles in just the right way for him.

“Fucking perfect,” he breathes out.

It’s barely audible over the slap of your skin against his. Each thrust punctuated by how he pulls you back to meet them.

You’re babbling around the stone, eyes tearing as you feel your body turn to molten lead. Hot in your lower belly as he hits the perfect spot over and over. As his pace slowly increases, so does your panting resulting in the stone slipping from your mouth and landing wetly on the bedding.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Comes your subsequent response to having your mouth free again. Babbling every time he fills the void only he can. “I’m so close, please~

It’s a small plea, a beg for mercy, He chuckles behind you as the pace quickens, his free handle snaking around your middle to massage firm circles into your clit. Its still far too sensitive, earning a cry from you as you clench around him. Its not long before your gushing around him again, the sound of each wet thrust growing louder and the molten lead of your belly flushes forward to seize you. Your eyes roll back, mouth open sluttily as you welcome each thrust that grows sloppier than the last.

“Need you to fill me, please fill me Balor.”

“Mmmph~ what-whatever my darling wishes~” Is all he can manage now, his skin slapping yours so loudly your happy you don’t have closer neighbors. Your muscles are still fluttering around his cock when he finally reaches his own climax with a soft groan before driving himself home and rutting in small movements inside your plush walls. He slumps over then, releasing your hair as his heads falls to rest on the back of your shoulder.

In the minutes afterwards,  still stuffed and catching your breathes, its like coming down from the sky. Your racing heart flutters back down to a normal pace, breath still a bit shaky put slowing as well. He rubs soothing circles in your hips with his thumbs before slowly leaning back up to appreciate the mess he made of your pussy. His seed spills form between your lips as he retreats

“Beautiful.” He murmurs softly, undoing the knot at your thighs and bringing circulation back to your lower extremities. Then your arms, helping you to bring them forward again despite the ache and massaging the blood flow back into them. Once satisfied that you could lay more comfortably, he gently pulls the red cord from the many twists around your body till your freed from its constraints. The moment he does so, he climbs back onto the bed to wrap you back into his arms where you melt into a relaxed puddle within them. A soft little nest made of your favorite ex-rogue.

[albondiguilla007]

My favorite Hogwarts Eighth Year Drarry fics

Part l

✨ A Dented Old Street Sign / 27k / Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

✨ Inside Your Mind / 36k / Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

✨ knickers in a twist / 86k / Draco loses a bet to Pansy and Blaise which leaves him wearing a skirt for a whole week. Harry discovers something about himself.

✨ The Nightmare Club / 85k / Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn't. Harry hasn't decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he's responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don't worry, there's tea!

✨ Two to Lie and One to Listen / 84k / It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

Things only get worse from there.

(A drarry fic featuring fake dating, jealousy and bad choices.)

✨ Love, Pain, and Guitar Strings / 303k / Harry had to do something with his time in the summer after the war, especially since he couldn't sleep. Finding Sirius's old guitar and learning to play solved that problem. Now if only he could solve the problem of Draco Malfoy always seeming to find him when he played it. Or the problem of how he definitely didn't want him to leave when he did.

Draco got lucky, he knew that - really. He was going back to Hogwarts instead of Azkaban. Now if only he could really find the freedom everyone kept telling him had. And if Potter could stop looking and sounding so damned good playing that guitar it would really help him do that.

An 8th-year fic about healing old wounds, gaining new skills, and learning what's most important.

✨ In Deep Water / 39k / Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts tall and tense and in love with Neville Longbottom.

✨ A Wizard’s Guide to Co-Parenting with Your Ex-Nemesis / 38k / Harry had expected a few things when returning for his Eighth Year. Rooming with Ron, a cheeky Firewhisky down at the pub, leaving his assignments to the last minute – those were all but certain to occur.

His list of certainties definitely hadn’t included McGonagall’s shake-up of the curriculum, which tasked the Eighth Years with the responsibility of parenthood for three weeks. Caring for a baby Transfigured from a sack of flour would have been alright if: 1) Malfoy wasn’t Harry’s assigned partner, 2) Their baby’s one goal in life wasn’t to spite Harry, and 3) Malfoy wasn’t infuriatingly good at fake parenthood.

✨ It’s No Great Mystery / 57k / Who on earth decided that bringing back the Yule Ball for their eighth year would be a good idea? It feels like the worst day of Harry’s life, watching everyone get glammed up like the war never happened, like the last Triwizard Tournament wasn’t such a colossal failure.

And then it happens again. And again. And again.

✨ Owl Was Well / 66k / Draco Malfoy is not an owl, really he isn’t. He simply assumes the shape of one on occasion when he wants to find a bit of privacy—a goal entirely thwarted because Harry Potter doesn’t understand you can’t just grab any old bird from the Owlery and force it to send your missives and deliver your packages.

✨ 12 Days of What The Fuck / 26k / When Potter starts paying unusual amounts of attention to Draco as the holidays draw nearer, Draco can't figure out where it's coming from—possibly because he's gone stupid from all the fantastic sex. But what happens when he finds out that there may be another motive behind Potter's sudden interest?

Or: A fic in which Potter is hotter than Draco ever let himself admit, Draco didn't fill out that fucking form, and Pansy may or may not lose all of her hair.