#visitor reg

[tektronixtechnology]

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Streamlining Security: The Future of Visitor Management with Facial Recognition

In an era where security concerns are paramount, traditional methods of visitor management are being rapidly replaced by innovative technological solutions. One such solution that is gaining traction across various sectors is the implementation of facial recognition in visitor management systems. Let’s delve into how this technology is revolutionizing the way we manage visitors.

[regwishesshehadmagic]

[sommerregenjuniluft]

jirgin chronicles

HFKSKKFKDD it’s been a Month since you sent this and i just saw jfkskf shame on me but

Yes. yes and ily and this is for you ino (nsfw warning)

It’s been approximately half an hour since James has thrown his phone across from him on the mattress and then flung himself onto his bedroom floor and anxiously been doing sit-ups to distract himself from the atrocity he’s just committed.

He’s utterly, absolutely and astronomically fumbled it, is what he’s done.

James counts 283 and there’s a knock on the door.

Hm. He wasn’t expecting visitors.

James gets up and strips his shirt on the way, balling it up in his hands to dab at the sweat that’s been collecting on his face and neck and pads to the front door of his small apartment.

He doesn’t bother peeking through the spy hole but instead swings the door open, ready to help a stranger to their right destination. Most likely someone else’s flat in the building. James is positive that he has the last names from the doorbell signs down enough to give helpful instructions.

What he doesn’t expect to see there, is a familiar face.

Or, rather, a much too familiar, instantly heart beat skipping, agonizingly pretty face.

Regulus is standing there, arms ramrod straight at his sides and face flushed. “What exactly did you mean when you texted— and you’re naked.”

James looks down on himself but sure enough he’s still in shorts, socks and slippers.

He gazes back up at Regulus who sorta looks more flushed than just a second ago, but perhaps it’s just a trick of the light.

“Why are you naked?” Regulus presses out. “And sweaty?” His tone makes it sound more like a statement.

Shit, does James stink? When was the last time he used deodorant? His shower after lunch? Yes, he did. That should do.

James shakes his head, “I’m not naked.” He gestures down at himself.

Regulus makes a noise like he’s frustrated and his eyes roll back. James is not thinking any indecent thoughts.

“Why are you like—” Regulus gestures at James as well. There’s a lot of gesturing going on comparatively to how short this conversation has been going on. “—like this?”

James refuses the instinct to let out a dumb Uhh and think of a plausible answer instead. He shrugs feebly, “Been doing sit-ups.”

“Sit-ups?” Regulus parrots in vague disbelief. His arms cross in front of his chest, frown pulling at his expression. James wants to bite his cheek.

“Yes,” he confirms. He rubs his shirt along his neck once more. “Um,” James mentally slaps himself, “did you want- I mean, was there something you came here for?”

“Is there something I—” Regulus makes another one of his noises and then simply stalks past James and into his apartment.

“Yeah, sure, come in,” James calls after him, closing the door. He turns just in time to see Regulus disappear into his bedroom. “I- Reg, what? Wait a god damn second.” He quickly heads after the younger man just to find him searching around his room like—and there’s really no better way of phrasing it—a drug sniffer dog.

Before James can even get a word out Regulus toes off his sneakers and gets on his bed, working around in the sheets. It takes no longer than a few seconds before he resurfaces with a vindictive A-ha, proceeding to hold up James’ phone.

James feels his cheeks heat with familiar shame.

And he feels them heat even more when Regulus clambers off his bed, the curls of his hair all tousled, and steps up to where James is rooted to the spot. He holds the phone screen up at James in an almost accusatory way. Yet, again, before James can even think to explain, Regulus snatches it away again and swipes his thumb over the screen.

James’ jaw almost unhinges, “Did you just do that to unlock my phone with face ID?”

“Yup,” Regulus says, tapping away on James’ phone.

“I-” and that manages to snap James out of it and catapult him into a more intelligent homo sapiens headspace, “Give me that!”

“No,” Regulus counters immediately, stemming a surprisingly deft palm against James’ sternum. He makes another swipe for his phone but Regulus keeps angling himself away with all the grace of a younger sibling that’s taken something that doesn’t belong to them.

James whines and tries wrapping an arm around Regulus to pull him closer, to get closer to the phone that is held one Regulus arms length away. Regulus makes a noise, a different one, but inexorably no less sexy. “Stop that,” he chides.

“You stop it,” James volleys back, desperately trying to keep his focus on the fact that Regulus is currently still going through his phone for whatever reason and off how good the other feels pressed right up against James body. “What are you even trying to—”

With a sudden start Regulus’ posture changes and he twists around to shove the phone back into James’ face. If James wasn’t so focused on not focusing on Regulus’ hand on his biceps and the way his belt is pressing just right against James’ crotch, he might not have taken as long as he does to realize what Regulus is trying to show him.

“So?” Regulus demands, wiggling the phone in front of James’ nose, just as his eyes adjust to the proximity of the object.

The screen projects their chat.

It presents James with the two most idiotic text messages he’s ever hit send on. But it also tells him Regulus’ reaction he so clearly unsuccessfully tried to avoid.

16:42 you’re more stupid than i thought if you really believe that inexperience consequences bad sex, potter

16:43 did you not also hear pandora and dorcas deflower each other in the room over at my birthday party in year 11?

16:46 wait are you drunk??

16:46 it’s literally not even five pm

16:51 if you’re not answering me in the next 10 minutes the offer is off the table..

17:00 james i’m fucking serious

17:00 also, don’t you dare answer if you’re gonna make that joke

17:01 i will actually choke you to death

17:05 hello??

17:08 i’m coming over

And, well.

James doesn’t really know what to say. Or think. Or do.

Anything really.

Regulus is glaring up at him next to his phone screen and it’s searing. He’s warm too, sturdy and a comfortable weight in James’ arm.

Oh, he really doesn’t want to let go. That he knows. That James is more than one hundred percent sure of.

And he’s here. Regulus threatened to pull back on his agreement to James’ insane question but instead of actually doing so he came here.

James asked Regulus if he would like to have sex with him, told him that he’s in truth a virgin and not at all confident in doing well in bed, and Regulus had put on his fucking shoes and walked his snotty, sexy, little ass the 7 minutes it takes to get from his shared flat to James’.

It’s a little too good to be true.

A fresh apple found on the forest ground of rotting foliage and James is waiting for net to snap up beneath his feet and hold him in elevated imprisonment.

James has to ask. “Why’d you come over, Reg?”

Regulus clicks his tongue. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t want to guess,” James insists as Regulus crosses his arms again, averting his eyes, “I want to know.”

A moment ticks by, and then another, in which Regulus stubbornly stares at a spot over James’ shoulder, not saying a word.

James reaches around further and pinches Regulus’ waist to make him jump. He does, predictably, and then bares his teeth in an almost growl when he returns to face James. “Because…” Regulus sighs out of his nose with force.

James holds him tighter at the waist again, in warning. Coincidentally pulling Regulus more onto him, making them both gasp softly.

Regulus’ lips part and James eyes bulge. “Sorry,” he mutters, voice husky.

Regulus groans, almost distressed, and James is about to apologize properly when Regulus stops him short. “Because,” he erupts, “you’re like stupidly hot, James, and it’s fucking pissing me off. It’s been pissing me off for a good five years, at this point, and I feel like if I don’t do anything about it, I will go mental.”

Oh.

James needs a moment to process that. Several actually.

The muscles in his arm start straining from how tight he’s holding Regulus against him but James doesn’t care. All he can think about is Regulus at 19, shy and small, but spitting venom at any attempt of getting closer. A time where Regulus’ hair was short and choppy after he cut it all off himself, where his skin was still pale and untouched by ink, where he still had a lot to unlearn but was visibly thankful for the environment he was brought into through his brother. That little baby snake, teeth sharp and going for an attack every few seconds, wasn’t repulsed by James at all. He was angry with himself for not being repulsed by James.

Oh, James should have known, he should have noticed. Or at least it shouldn’t have taken him this long to fucking find out. Because it only took about two years before Regulus started to become malleable in James’ proximity, in his palm. Jabs easier, quips more playful, and an uptick of the corner of his mouth. James had nearly run laps from the happiness these small victories brought the first few times they happened.

But it was supposed to happen like this. If James has learned one thing from building his relationship with Regulus, it’s patience, no matter how badly he’d wanted to tear out his own hair at times. It would have been no use rushing into it and scaring him off.

Because now Regulus is the one who came, who made the step. Who is here, in James’ arms, a desperate, pretty little thing. Worn thin and helpless, eager and frustrated and—

“You’re into me?” James breathes, something inside his chest fluttering.

“I just said that,” Regulus scowls again and James almost explodes.

His still unsure how to do this but James wants, fuck, he wants so badly. Wants to eat Regulus, wants to fuse with him, wants Regulus to spit in his open mouth and make him swallow.

James has made out with people before, at parties. He’s been told he’s a good kisser.

“Reg.”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Regulus does a double take at him. His mouth drops open and his eyes go all wide and soft, gaze so dewy it nearly cuts James off at the knees.

“You—” Regulus interrupts himself in favor of pulling James down by his nape. Fingers wind themselves into the back of James’ hair at the same time as Regulus licks his tongue between James’ lips and it’s heaven.

Immediately James’ body feels oversensitive, blood rushing and prickling inside his veins like sour candy, light headed, gut clenching, lips tingling where he can feel Regulus’ press against his. It’s wet and open mouth, nip of teeth, but it’s soft, gentle despite that.

James lets out a happy sigh and it turns into a moan when Regulus tugs at his roots. Turns into panting and a whimper when Regulus breaks off but keeps his hips pressed into James’.

Oh, that’s dangerous. That’s so, so d—

“James, did you just get hard this quickly?”

Again, it sounds less like a question and more like a statement. Which, technically it has every right to be, since Regulus is completely correct.

It doesn’t feel quite on par with James’ ego to outright and immediately admit it though so he intelligently keeps gaping at Regulus momentarily.

But Regulus isn’t having it. He fastens his grip in James’ messy hair, his other hand coming up to loosely rest against the base of James’ throat and then Regulus leans in to lick at the seam of his lips. Touching just the tip of his tongue to James’ sensitive kissed, open mouth like he’s coaxing the answer out of him like that.

Insane behavior. James needs to lock Regulus away from everybody else in the world. He can’t have him going around being this hot just for anyone to see.

It works though, in a way, at least. James doesn’t manage to form a coherent verbal answer but his hips do the job for him when he ruts them forth and into Regulus in response.

The younger bites his lower lip at that, pupils blown and smoldering, “That’s a yes, I suspect.” And then Regulus says something that is the exact moment of the beginning of James Fleamont Potter’s ruination as the world knows and adores him. He knocks James head around slightly, carefully and coos at him gently. And then Regulus says, “Already stupid in the head, huh?”

James’ body nearly takes a screenshot. His gut tightens immediately, all the blood leaving his head and rushing straight to his cock, so fast and hard it’s dizzying. The tips of his fingers tingle with blood loss and a noise rips from his throat that’s as animalistic as it is pathetic.

From then it’s all a bit hazy.

There’s a lot of begging involved on James’ part and a lot of leading on Regulus’. They end up on the bed, kissing each other’s mouths raw, James on his back and Regulus in his lap, grinding down on him like he’s trying to grade James’ braincells away like a parmesan. It’s working. To the point where he’s so lost in the feel and weight of Regulus, in all the way he makes him feel good like the fucking angel that he is, that James doesn’t even notice he’s about to cum before it’s too late.

It barrels through him like a fucking freight train, spilling into his shorts, Regulus pressing down on and milking it out of him.

One would imagine this is already intense enough but then Regulus mumbles something into his ear and James vaguely remembers blushing again and nodding. There’s the sound of a zipper and some adjusting and then Regulus lets out a shaky moan that has James snapping back into the present so fast he’s afraid he gave himself whiplash.

Because Regulus is on top of him, hand down his jeans and eyebrows scrunched like he’s feeling just so fucking good and James has to kiss him again. They do that until Regulus shudders through his own orgasm and James feels like his bones turned into al dente pasta.

And lastly, because Regulus is still an evil, little shit, he gives James one more dirty, wet kiss before extracting himself entirely.

He pats James on the knee as he rebuttons his trousers, “Now, if you wanna continue this, you know where to find me. And you better text me back before I get home or this’ll be the last time you had an orgasm through your dick.”

James just so refrains from telling him he’s in love with him.

[agentlizardofowca]

Short fic: Winifred Fletcher beats up Mrs Doofenshmirtz

That's it, that's the fic. Established relationship, takes place after the show. Enjoy.

----

It was his birthday. Heinz was turning 50, and because he was turning 50, this birthday was a big deal. 

His 49th birthday had been simple, easy. A piece of cake and an afternoon spent with Perry. Vanessa had visited and handed him a present: One of those phone case handheld thingies that he could play with. A few people had rung their doorbell to shake his hand and congratulate him. By the time dinner rolled around, everything was back to normal.

But not this year. Fifty was a big number! But anyone who said that just made him feel impossibly old. 

Heinz never would’ve guessed he would hold out this long; even as a teen, he assumed he'd die tragically. A few times his life had flashed before his eyes, like when he was trapped under that boulder, the night Charlene took Vanessa and left for real, and the first time he sat on a self-destruct button. But here he was: losing his hair, with a sore back, but breathing and happier than he'd been in years. The big five-oh.

The Flynn-Fletchers had insisted on a real party, but Heinz was very reluctant. Eventually, there was some sort of compromise, and now their house was stuffed with more people than they had seats. Their visitors didn't mind; Groups of neighbours stood around eating cake and the kids all agreed they’d rather be outside than in. 

Someone had invited Roger, who made polite conversation with his reluctant brother for five minutes before he'd disappeared into the crowd to go kiss some stranger's baby or something.

"Heinz, ol' boy! Who would’ve thought you'd be an old geezer in such a jiffy!"

He turned towards the strange noise and came face to face with Reginald Fletcher, Perry's adoptive father, and a man with such a strange and unusual English accent that he wondered how people even understood the man. Beside him was his wife Winifred, smiling pleasantly.

"Reg, Winnie", Heinz smiled and offered them his hand. "Thank you so much for coming. You only have a few days here in the states, I'm sure there are many things you'd rather do." 

"Nonsense! Winnie loves a good party, don't you, dear? Besides, our Perry's man only turns fifty once, right? I remember when I was a spry young lad like you!" 

"To celebrate, he walked a tightrope across the Thames," Winifred agreed.

"Well, my balance has never been that good," Heinz chuckled, suddenly afraid that people expected him to do something, since this was his party. He didn’t know if there were rules for something like that.

"A slice of cake seems like a great alternative." Winifred agreed. "Our Perry wouldn't like you if you did silly things like that. He needs someone a bit more laid back." 

"If there's one thing I'm good at, it's lying back." Heinz chuckled, only realising that sounded vaguely sexual when it was too late to change the course of that sentence.

Winifred didn't seem to mind though, she cackled loudly. "Oh, I'm sure you do!" 

Heinz would've been embarrassed if his new mother-in-law hadn't seemed absolutely delighted by his little mistake. Reg was smiling too, but more so at his wife's delight than anything else. It made Heinz hopeful that he and Perry could also be content together when they grew old. Perhaps there was a way to save his dignity once Winifred stopped laughing, but it was probably easiest to just let it go and enjoy the joke for what it was. "Did Perry get you a drink?" 

"Not yet," Reginald explained. "We just got here, and we wanted to congratulate you first." 

"Well, I can get Perry to get you something," Heinz hated hosting. Honestly, he would just as happily shove everybody in this house out the door right now, but Perry's parents were kind to him from the start, and also old, so they probably needed caffeine or something, right? He turned to scan the crowd for Perry's bright teal hair, but instead, he turned and startled, and almost shouted. "AH!" 

His mother was in his house. And she was right in front of him. Her face was as stoic as always, and she didn’t seem very enthused to be here.

"Ah. Heinz," She said. "There you are." 

"Mother!" Heinz almost stuttered, but he knew she disapproved of that. "You came to visit? On my birthday?" She had never done that before.

"Heinz," His mother replied coolly. "Have you seen Roger?"

He sighed and looked around the room. Perhaps if he could include his brother in the conversation, that would help him somehow. "I think he's outside."

His mother was about to reply to that when Winifred took this as the opportune moment to introduce herself. "You must be Heinz's mother?" She interrupted. "I am Winifred, I am Perry's mother." 

Mother Doofenshmirtz allowed her hand to be shaken. Unimpressed, she looked the other woman up and down. "Pleasure," She lied.

"I don't believe we've met before, but it was only a matter of time after my Perry snatched up your son, right?" 

"Perry?" Heinz's mother replied distantly. "Oh yes, his little friend." 

"Little, that sure is an apt description of our Perry," Reginald chuckled, unaware of the general mood of the conversation, which had plummeted to awkward almost instantly.

"Friend?" Winifred parrotted. "That seems like an old-fashioned type of description."

"Well, I suppose I am old-fashioned, then." The other woman replied curtly. "If Heinz-" 

"Oh look, Mother!" said son interrupted, his voice higher-pitched than usual and quite loud. "Roger is right over there! Let me just-" And he moved as if he was about to guide his mother away from the conversation.

"Heinz dear, hold this for me, will you?" Winifred said instead, and she handed Heinz her handbag, which was so much heavier than he expected that he almost toppled over.

“Careful there, Lad. Winnie brought her prize-winning fruit cake. You don’t want to smush that.” Reginald helped steady him, but didn’t even attempt to take the bag from his hands. “The price is that it’s the heaviest fruitcake in the world.”

“I can tell,” Heinz gasped as he clutched the bag to his chest like a bag of rocks. “It’s really quite impressive.” 

“There are over twenty apples in that thing.” Reginald was very obviously proud of his wife, who was long-nose, to long-nose with Heinz’s mother at the moment. His mother, whom Heinz had failed to remove from the conversation. To make things worse, Roger hadn’t even been in the corner he pointed out, he just wanted to avoid whatever this conversation was going to be. No matter what his mother was going to say next, it wouldn’t paint him in a good light, and Heinz truly wanted Perry’s parents to like him.

“Now, you’ll have to excuse me. My hearing aids need tuning.” Winifred said in the overly polite tone British women used when they wanted nothing more than to call someone a bad word. “But I believe you were saying something about your son.” 

“I was saying,” The other woman replied in a tone like hellfire. “That if Heinz wants to pretend to have found love in your sodomist son, then he can do that. But he won’t be convincing me that this is about anything but perverse gratification!” 

“My son, the what?” Winifred asked, mostly angered by the other woman, but also finding the situation just a little bit funny.

Instead of answering the other woman, Mother Doofenshmirtz turned to her son and announced, “You know I don’t approve of whatever this vulgar choice of yours is. You can dress it up with a cute little house, and invite everybody for a little birthday party, but you know you’re disgusting and-”

“Disgusting?!” Winifred shouted, loud enough that the party around them fell silent as they noticed the commotion. “That is your son, right there! And you believe you can talk to him like that!” 

“If you like him so much, you can have him! He’s been nothing but a thorn in my side for fifty years!” Mrs Doofenshmirtz replied with eye contact as if she was trying to prove something.

Heinz watched his mother say this without even glancing his way. She said it as if he weren’t even there, because she didn’t care. She never had. “Mother, the party-” He interjected, but his voice came out too sad and pathetic to be heard over the jaunty music that still played over the stereo.

“Reginald, hold my glasses!” Winifred took them off, folded them and handed her delicate frames to her husband, who was ready to accept them as if he was waiting for this.

“I’ve got your glasses dear, kick her ass.” 

“Oh, believe me, I will!” 

And then Heinz was too confused, amazed, and flabbergasted to be sad, because Winifred Fletcher, 74 years of age, and usually nothing but polite and friendly, shoved his mother to the floor with a swing of her arm and then continued to pummel her with great pleasure.

Unsure of what to do, Heinz just stood there, clutching the dear woman’s purse to his chest, and watching as she single-handedly managed to ruin his mother’s eternally tight hair bun.

Beside him, Reginald was shadow boxing along, hooting and hollering to his wife what she should do next.

“Oh dear,” Someone said on the other side of him. “Dad, why is my mummy punching Heinz’s elderly mother?” Lawrence had caught wind of the situation and came to investigate, but just like everybody else, he did not seem ready to intervene. 

“Mother? Mother! Heinz’s, do something!” Roger also appeared from somewhere in the crowd, and unlike all the other people, who had gathered around to watch two old women roll over the floor as they attempted to snatch each other’s earrings, he immediately jumped in to try and separate them. All he managed to do was that he got scratched in the face, and three red lines appeared along his cheek. “Oh, my god! Mother!”

“heh.” A raspy chuckle, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the fight.

Heinz turned, finding that his boyfriend, the sodomist, had also noticed the disturbance. “Perry the platypus, your mother just bit my mother!” 

Perry seemed reluctant to look away from the fight, but he managed to; his expression was a lot less severe than the situation warranted. In fact, if he could, Perry probably would’ve been hooting and hollering along with his dad.

“Perry, lad, I think it’s time we intervene before someone loses an earring, or an eye!” Lawrence announced. “I’ll clear the way, but you grab her. My back, you know.” 

Heinz did not know for sure, but he recognised a poor excuse when he heard one; Lawrence wasn’t confident he could come out the other side of this fight unscathed.

Speaking of scathed, Roger was still trying to extract their mother, but like Winifred, his mother didn’t seem too keen on stopping this violence, even though it was becoming quite clear that she was not winning.

With more bravery than any other man in this room, Perry inserted himself between the two bickering grannies and managed to push his mother to the one side, and Mrs Doofenshmirtz to the other. Quickly, Roger heaved his mother upright; her hair was a wild mess, her lip had split, and a bruise was already blooming across her chin, but she wasn’t giving up. As Roger pulled her, against her will, towards the front of the house, she struggled and huffed. “I’ll get you, Fotze! You’re dead! Fick dich!”

“Here’s a tip! Mother to Mother!” Winifred replied, also dishevelled and bleeding from her nose, but proud and clearly victorious. “If your son likes bumming, that’s fine! You should try it sometime, maybe it’ll help you be less of a stuck up bitch!”

“Fick dich ins Knie!” Heinz heard his mother reply before Roger finally managed to work her out of the house.

As the door slammed shut behind them, the room fell completely silent. The entire party watched the door for a moment, as if Mrs Doofenshmirtz was about to burst back in and continue the fight.

“Well,” Winnie announced, and she adjusted her dress back into place. “Your mother surely is an interesting woman, but if you’re ever in need of some real motherly love, feel free to call me Heinz. I may not be perfect, but I’ll surely do a better job than that manky munter.” 

“...What?” Heinz replied, still trying to progress the situation.

“Congratulations, boy,” Reginald agreed. “You’re our son now. Look, honey. He has your nose!” 

“Perry, I’ve been here for a solid fifteen minutes, and I haven’t had a spot of tea yet. Are you trying to kill your poor old mother?” Winifred then laughed happily, as if there wasn’t fresh blood under her fingernails.

“Perry, you never told me you took after your mother,” Heinz joked, because he honestly wasn’t sure what else to say. He wasn’t even sure if he was mad about what had just happened; he had a feeling he was smiling, but he wasn’t really sure why, or how to stop. 

「Happy Birthday,」 Perry replied instead. He was also smiling.

[oh-phoenixx]

"Poppy Pomfrey" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 313 words

@abductedhiko

-

In her time at Hogwarts, Poppy had known many students too stubborn to listen to her when she insisted they leave their friends alone while they were in the hospital wing. None, however, had given her as much trouble as James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin, whenever one of the four was injured. She would have found it endearing had it not been at least a monthly occurrence. She knew to expect it, though. 

What Poppy did not expect, however, was Regulus Black coming into the hospital wing far later than she typically allowed visitors. Too shocked to say anything, she watched as he walked over to the bed that James Potter was currently occupying. He sat in the chair beside his bed and took the sleeping boy’s hand into his own. He put his head on the bed and seemed to breathe out a deep sigh of relief. 

Collecting herself, Poppy moved to his side, hearing him mutter, “You fucking idiot, scaring me like that.” Regulus did not realise that Poppy was beside him, nor did he realise that James had woken up and was grinning down at him tiredly.

“Mr. Black,” Poppy spoke softly, though Regulus still jumped at her voice. “It is one in the morning. Not only should you not be in here, you should not be out of bed at all.”

“Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I, um, accidentally cut myself.” Regulus nodded to a small cut on his hand. “So, I, um…had to come down here.”

Although she did not believe a word of this, Poppy nodded very seriously. “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to keep you overnight for observation.” Regulus hid his smile behind his uninjured hand.

As she started to walk away, she heard James mumble, “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself just to see me, Reg,” followed by, “Shut up, Potter, or I’ll leave.”

[teaforthotxxx]

Rosekiller who had Pandora officiate their wedding just before the war so if anything happened, they wouldn’t have to testify against each other.

Rosekiller who claimed that they weren’t dating but would get so jealous anytime someone flirted in their direction.

Rosekiller who went on muggle raids together because they always watched each others back.

Rosekiller who saw the birth of their niece Luna Lovegood.

Rosekiller who secretly funded the Xenophillius’ paper.

Rosekiller who received goodbye letters from their best friend, Regulus Black, and instructions to find out how to destroy a horocrux.

Rosekiller who gave Pandora instructions on how to cast fiendfyre.

Rosekiller who attended Pandora’s funeral secretly because they were wanted men.

Rosekiller who comforted Luna Lovegood and gave her memorabilia of her mother because she was all that was left of their sister/sister-in-law and best friend.

Rosekiller who sat together and received news on Dorcas Meadows’ death. She didn’t even get a full headline like Reggie. She was just one name in a row of obituaries. She died thinking her closest friends betrayed her.

Rosekiller who hid together after several close calls at the Lovegood cottage.

Rosekiller accidentally spotted by Mad eye Moody. A man that Evan cost an eye. Evan Rosier who was in the middle of gathering mushrooms for stew, struck down a hex. Barty Crouch Jr who hears the fighting and rushes down to see Evan fighting a squad of aurors. Barty Crouch Jr who sees his heart struck down by a stray hex.

Barty Crouch Jr who drops his wand and tries to hold his husband only to be pinned down and arrested on the spot.

Barty Crouch Jr who gives up and is sent to Azkhaban without trial because everyone he loves (his found family) is dead.

Barty Crouch Jr who spends a few years in a cell next to his best friend’s estranged brother. The brother he knows is innocent. He watches as Dementors and guards torture the righteous Gryffindor. He thinks back on his childhood, the abuse at the hands of his father, the Minister. He concludes- The ministry is corrupted.

Barty Crouch Jr who receives his first visitor in Azkhaban, his mother who is on death’s bed. She hands him poly juice potion and her house elf. He knows she wants him to live his life to its fullest. He wants to.

Barty Crouch Jr who is immediately imperioused by his father upon escaping. His mother had told his father of her plan. He is stuck in stasis as the years go by. His mother dies, he is pronounced dead, his father is promoted. He pleads for help. Begs but no sound comes out. Then, the dark lord appears.

Barty Crouch Jr who takes revenge on the man who killed his heart and replaces him in Hogwarts.

Barty Crouch Jr who sees his niece for the first time in years roaming the halls. She has Xenophillius’ complexion but she is undeniably Pandora’s daughter. She sees her hanging out with an angry younger sibling who loves quidditch (Ginny Weasley) and is immediately taken back to Pandora and Reg. He sees Blaise Zabini waltzing down the halls with Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy scowling behind. He is reminded of Dorcas, Evan and himself, prancing about the halls. Blood purity be damned. Before everything went wrong. Before the deatheaters, family obligations and Dumbledore’s child militia tore them apart.

Barty Crouch Jr who gets the dementor’s kiss. For the first time he’s filled with good memories and then the dementor takes it all.

[lovesickf-fics]

Drunk on it

tw : drunk sex, sex under the influence, blow jobs, mention of gagging/choking, edging, hair pulling, crying, light begging, praise, riding, forcing past orgasm, overstimulation

Character(s) mentioned : Regulus Black x Remus Lupin (Moonwater)

Summary : Boyfriends get drunk, Regulus gets horny and Remus lets him take it

a/n - inspired by this! post on my marauders account

Drinking is fun, and gryffindor parties are even more fun, especially with the multitude of snuck in drinks, circles of friends laughing loudly, yelling and screaming.

Regulus had became a frequent visitor after getting with remus and after him and sirius properly made up.

Drinking is fun, but especially when Regulus is a horny drunk and Remus is a whiny drunk, the two wires cross frequently and thats how they end up in a scenario like this one,

They're in the dorms, door not locked but definitely shut as after entering remus had pinned the younger boy against the door and made out with him sloppily until their spits were dribbling down their chin and the taste of alcohol making it almost just as addicting as the drinking itself.

Regulus is the one that pulls away, not hesitating to drop to his knees, remus lets it happen, enjoying the way regulus takes charge when the alcohol kicks in

Regulus pulls him close, fumbling with the buttons of his jeans, drunk hands arent as coordinated as regulus would like them to be, but he manages, pulling them down with no tact, leaning forward to drool over the bulge in remus' boxers.

Remus lets him, letting his head fall forward so all he can see is Regulus through his lashes, drunk and blurry but oh so beautiful.

Regulus doesnt stop, it gets to a point where Remus' cock feels trapped in the wet fabric so he tugs regulus back, the hair soft between the werewolfs fingers and he tugs them down enough to free himself.

Regulus practically drools at the sight. Remus is pretty sure he does and then regulus leans forward taking the length in one movement, ignoring his own gag reflex as he chokes ever so slightly

He takes it to the base, burying his nose into Remus' pubes, the thick brown hair covering the bottom half of his face

Regulus was desperate, his jaw aching slightly, the taste of Remus' cock on his tongue driving him insane, the sounds of slurping almost louder than the sounds remus was making in response.

Remus was gripping Regulus' hair, gently tugging him up and down, practically fucking into his open mouth, forcing himself back past regulus' gagging with every other thrust.

With nails digging into his thighs remus lifts his leg, putting it onto the bed closest to him, forcing reg's head down more, hips moving a little faster, a little shallower, reg crying around him and that done nothing to deter the pace that was making remus dizzy, the buzz mimicking the alcohol that was on his tongue less than an hour ago.

Regulus took back over, pushing himself closer, remus is whimpering now, "please" and "so good"s falling from his lips like prayers, and regulus would do anything to turn those breathless sounds to even more desperate.

The alcohol makes it difficult to place, but remus is sure he's close, but before he can even think of articulating that to the mouth on him he's cumming, and regulus is swallowing, not stopping his movements, if anything he's pushing impossibly closer, hes swallowing more and more, cock sensitive and remus close to collapsing due to how much he shakes.

The shaking is so bad that, regulus grabs his hips, holding him up while he continues to tease remus, focusing on the tip, making the boy above him cry out, whimpering and slurring about it bring "too much"

Regulus takes it to the base once more, swallowing once then twice, then he pulls off, wiping his mouth and sitting himself down on the floor, looking up at the ruined man above him, deciding that he wants atleast another round or two out of the werewolf tonight.

[se-sissy-lina04]

Sissy’s Masterlist

CT-Cassa: “New Neighbors”

The Bad Batch moves in

The Arrival

One day, a moving transport lands outside. No warning. No building announcement. No friendly Kaminoan landlord check-in.

Four men step out, very much not standard regs: big, intimidating, scarred, armed… and very unimpressed.

Clone chat explodes:

“Are those them?”

“CT-99s? In our building?”

“Hunter’s got a knife the size of my shin.”

“Do not talk to Crosshair.”

The Bad Batch gets assigned their own floor—Floor 13. Of course. It was sealed off. For a reason. They love it.

Clone Reaction: Cold Front

The regs are wary. These guys are genetically different, weird, and kind of intense. Also? There’s resentment. They got special treatment during the war. They didn’t fight like the others.

The 501st posts “voluntary surveillance patrols.”

212th won’t make eye contact.

104th pretends they don’t exist.

Even the Coruscant Guard looks the other way.

You Meet Them

You hear something loud and mechanical while bringing groceries up the lift. Door to 13 is wide open. Sparks. Smoke. Wrecker wrestling a malfunctioning droid.

“…Hi?” You say.

Tech looks up from a pile of half-disassembled appliances. “You’re the civilian,” he notes flatly.

“That’s Zee,” Hunter adds. “The one the regs won’t shut up about.”

Crosshair: low growl “She’s the one with the warm apartment and the stupid mugs.”

You: “…You guys want caff?”

Wrecker: “DO I?!”

A Reluctant Bond Forms

At first, they keep their distance. They don’t really do neighbors. But you’re like gravity. You bring over soup when Wrecker has a cold. Ask Tech to help fix your datapad (he reprograms it to be 80% faster). You listen when Hunter’s tired and doesn’t want to talk but doesn’t want to be alone.

Crosshair is the last holdout. You catche him secretly smoking on the fire escape. Offer him caf. Don’t ask questions. That earns a nod. That’s… a lot, for him.

Clones’ Reaction to you and the Batch: Jealousy and Confusion

“Why is she hanging out with them?”

“She’s our civvie.”

“Did she just laugh at a Crosshair joke???”

The 501st tries to “rescue” you with a fake caf emergency. You declines.

The 212th offers you plant cuttings. You say thanks but are already growing tomatoes with Wrecker.

Tension rises. Clone drama hits new heights.

The Conflict Boils Over

Eventually, there’s a confrontation. The 501st and 104th have a heated hallway discussion with the Batch.

“You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do we. That’s the point.”

You cut in: “You all live here. Maybe get used to that.” It’s the first time you raise your voice. It works.

Aftermath: Uneasy Peace, Found Family 2.0

The clones don’t like the Bad Batch—but they start to respect them.

Tech helps the 104th optimize their morning drills.

Wrecker joins the 501st rec night and wins everything.

Hunter has a quiet, truce-forging conversation with Rex.

Crosshair still glares at everyone but bring you black caf every morning, no words.

Zee’s Perspective

Your apartment now has two sets of regular visitors. The Batch isn’t as loud as the 501st, or as soft as the 212th, but she likes the way they see you—as someone who makes space for others.

You realize you’re not just “their civvie” anymore.

You’re theirs. All of them. Even the rejects.

[garfieldblunt]

Modern Jobs I think the VDL Gang would have

Dutch - Drug Lord Prolly - but as a real answer I feel like he would Definitely be the leader of a shitty MEGA church

Hosea - I imagine him either as a therapist or a preschool/elementary teacher - Or even better, Number one Bingo Player in the retirement home

Arthur - Funny enough, I can't see him being more than a ranch hand

John - He's a good ranch owner - He, Arthur, Abi, Jack, n a few others live on a big ranch and live happily ever after

Mary-Beth - She's a librarian, author, and frequent AO3 visitor - can't convince me other wise, She has one of the best fanfictions on WattPad I just know it

Abigail - My heart and soul tells me that Abi would be an illustrator for children's books - or a stay at home mom

Kieran - My little Princess Pupcup is getting his degree in Equine science and becoming a veterinarian for horsies

Micah - Hitman or Dishwasher no in between

Bill - Gas Station clerk - Or I can also imagine him working with Kieran with the horses

Javier - Performer, duh - He does a lot of side gigs and plays at cafes on the reg - I can also imagine him being a Spanish tutor for kids

Susan - Let's be honest, she's the principal of a high school or middle school - any other answer is wrong (/j)

Lenny - He's also a writer, but he's not a fanfiction writer like Mary-Beth - I can also imagine him visiting Mary-Beth's library and reading to the kids on Sundays <3

Sean - Youtuber/ Twitch Streamer - need I say more???

Swanson - AA leader - He's also probably trying to get people to stop joining Dutch's MEGA church

Pearson - He's a chef for the Retirement Home that Hosea is bound to - He also works for the local soup kitchen

Karen - I can see her being a dance performer - not like a stripper, but more like ballet or even musical theater

Charles - State trooper at a National Park - No further questions

Tilly - I just imagine her as such a good lawyer like her husband - She's defiantly someone who can talk her client out of the death penalty if needed

Uncle - His job is to park his ass in a rocking chair and Bother John til the day he dies

[redheadspark]

Revenge

A/N - This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series, it will be a two parter for sure. I hope you like it

Summary - Eris has been found, and Azriel takes his revenge

Warnings - A pinch of angst in this one, but they'll be fluff later

Cassian's POV

Cassian could feel a headache coming already, though rubbing his temples was not helping.

He would rather be home, at the House of Wind, having time with his mate and young daughter since this was the second day in a row that he had to be at the Illyrian camps.  Some of the captains were getting too comfortable, which led to Cassian needing to come up and whip them into shape.  It was mostly babysitting now, yet babysitting Nyx and Alec was far more enjoyable than an army filled with Illryians who were headstrong and pompous.  

But the front flaps of his Captain quarter opened abruptly, though Cassian's head was down d looking over the names of the recruits that had just arrived a week before.

"Cassian, you have a visitor," One of his Captain Gerard, voiced from the front.  Cassian cracked his knuckles, squinting a bit from the headache that was right behind his eyes.

"If it's one of the recruits bitching about their sleeping quarters, they can it up with Reg," Cassian replied while keeping his eyes trained on the paper below him, then hearing an awkward shuffle of boots.

"I am not one to judge the living quarters of Illyrian soldiers, nor have I ever been," 

Cassian's eyes snapped up from the voice, knowing exactly who it was. High Lord Beron, the very High Lord of Autumn Court, was in his tent, at Windhaven Camp in Night Court.  He was dressed in the Autumn Court colors, standing stiff and tall though looking rather unpleased.  Cassian shot up from his spot at the desk, looking rather shocked at the sight of Baron in his tent.  With none of his security or guards, all alone.  

Alarms were ringing in Cassian's head, the very alarms that signaled him to be on his guard.  Then again, his Captains and other commanders at Windhaven would have alerted him instantly if someone made it past the borders of the camp. Autumn Court was not well-liked with the Illyrian soldiers that were at Windhaven.  Was Cassian walking into some kind of trap?  Was he about to lose his life?  

Should he tell Rhysand and the others?

"High Lord Beron," Cassian said his name, not wishing to sound far too surprised but it still almost came out as a squeak.  He looked past the High Lord at Gerard, the Captain giving him a look of shock from behind Beron as Cassian cleared his throat, "Gerad, make sure we have no interruptions,"

"Of course," he replied, giving Beron a perplexed look from behind as Beron was simply looking around at the interior of the tent.  He slipped out of the ten, closing it to finally leave Cassian and Beron alone.  One eagan, Cassian had an uneasy feeling in the back of his mind, his sword was not too far away and propped against his chest behind him, and his daggers strapped to hip and thighs.  He could be light on his feet, though he had never seen High Lord Beron in combat before.  

Beron eyed him, his dark eyes scanning Cassian up and down with intrigue and almost a hint of judgment, "No need to worry about yourself and safety, my men are not too far away and on patrol around the camp as we speak,"

"Is that a good idea with a camp filled with adrenaline-filled Illryians?" Cassian asked carefully though Beron barely cracked a smile.

"My men know not to move without my permission," Beron answered, a moment or two passed before he looked at Cassian directly in the eyes. Cassian could see years and years of leadership in these eyes, along with centuries of pain and remorse.  It was almost haunting, and the serious look he was getting was not helping the situation.  

"I have Eris in my custody, back in Autumn Court," 

Cassian felt his heart drop to the ground and a shiver went down his spine.  The very high fae who brought fear and worry to Azriel and his family, who almost killed Alec when he was a toddler, and two weeks ago Azriel's mate nearly died from Eris.  The target that was on the Autumn Court Prince's back grew over time, mostly due to his poor choices and irrational decisions against not only Night Court but the only Shadowsinger in all of Prythian.  

Cassian had soldiers combing through all of Night Court from top to bottom, Rhysand spoke to the other High Lords and implored them to hand him over if he was discovered, and for a few days there seemed to be the notion that he fell off the face of the continent.  But now to hear he was back in Autumn Court, by his own father, Cassian didn't know what to think as Beron walked back and forth in front of his desk, looking a bit remorseful as he spoke again.

"As per the agreement I made with your High Lord, I will hold him in my custody until High Lord Rhsyand will do what he sees fit as punishment for the crimes he committed," Beron explained, his fingers twitching a bit at his sides as he was pacing slowly, Cassian's eyes following him like a hawk while he spoke some more, "I will not let him stay in my Court with his crimes, only to stain my Court's reputation and standing amongst the other Courts and in Prythian.".

Cassian could not believe what he was hearing: Beron was willing to hand his son over to Rhysand, willingly, and with no need of an exchange or trade in return.  Surely there had to be some kind of trick or compromise that came with this, Beron must need something in return for handing his son over without a second thought.  

Finally finding his voice, Cassian gave the High Lord an inquisitive stare, "You'd hand your son over so willingly?"

Perhaps he struck a chord or hit a nerve since Beron stood so still like a tree and stared deeply at Cassian, "Eris is no son of mine,"

He said it in such a way that was both vile and yet emotional as Cassian went silent again.  Like it was set in stone, written in ink, and left the rest of time to digest.

"He has done wrong in the past, no doubt because of his young age and the need to be reckless.  I have overlooked the headaches and heartaches he inflicted on others including myself and his mother.  But the choice he had, to willingly take the life of two innocent souls with no account of the consequences that would take place, that I will no do," He explained to Cassian and he stood face to face with him, "Who am I to preach such things when I too am also guilty of the mistakes I made in the past, the decisions that made my reputation the way it was for centuries.  Yet now I wish to change it, change the way the other Courts see my Court and my family."

He was saying the right things to Cassian, and yet he would still stay on his guard when it came to Autumn Court.  Azriel and his family meant more to Cassian than the word of Beron.  His Court was not high up on Cassian's trust list, nor with anyone else in the Inner Circle for that matter.  Yet again, Cassian was in the room with Beron and Rhysand spoke about the agreement they made about Eris, he saw it all and heard it too.  Beron would be a fool to go against Night Court and Rhysand if he was claiming that he wanted to make amends with all the Courts in Prythian.  

"The Spymaster's family should have never been a target, that much is fact," Beron stated, his voice softer now at the mention of Azriel while Cassian watched him intensely, "You may not believe my word, to which I do not blame you. I can only give you my word, and I swear on my lineage of Autumn Court.  Not only that but I dare not tamper with my daughter-in-law's family and loved ones.  I happen to appreciate and love young Elaine, she has brought life back to Lucien,"

At the mention of Elaine, Cassian could see he was telling the truth. Elaine truly was well-loved by all of the citizens in Autumn Court, from the moment she was presented as Lucien's fiancee and became a popular public figure amongst the common folk and fae.  Lucien would tell the Inner Circle how she was making a tremendous mark amongst the people and her in-laws, who adored her and took her under their wing.  Elaine became a wonderful bridge for the two Courts, making the alliance as strong as ever.  

"As I stated before, Eris is in my custody, and I await to hear from Rhsyand on what he wishes to do with him.  I will hold no grudges or quarrels against your High Lord and Lady on whatever they choose to do, I only ask they don't have a charge of heart against my Court from Eris's actions," Beron explained, giving Cassian one more intense look.  Perhaps to either seek approval or not, but Cassian nodded his head.  

"I'll let my High Lord know," he replied, Beron shifted his head down slightly as a way of thanks before he made his way to the front of the tent. Before he went out, his hands wrapped around the flap, he looked back at Cassian with a softer look in his dark eyes.

"Please send my condolences and apologies for the Spymaster.  I truly am sorry for all that has happened to his family," After he stated that, he slipped out of the tent without a second thought.  

Cassian was left alone, in utter shock from what occurred in front of him and what he heard.  The last thing he expected was to have Beron in front of him, High Lord Beron, handing his son over to Rhysand and Night Court.

Importantly, to Azriel.  

He blinked once, then ran over to grab his sword and out of the tent.  Beron was nowhere to be seen, nor was his soldier.  A couple of Illyrian soldiers looked around in confusion as Gerard walked over with wide eyes.

"What in the hell?!" Gerard asked.

"Stay here and hold down the camp.  No one goes in or out until I give the word," Cassian replied, stretching out his wings as he looked at Gerard, "No one, understand?"

With a nod from his Captain, he took to the sky with one swipe of his wings, soaring up so fast his breath was nearly lost. 

He had to find the others and deliver the news.  He had to find Azriel.

Your  POV

"Cousin,"

Hearing Rhysand's voice behind you gave you a small shiver, you turned to look over your shoulder and see him standing at the doorway of your home, standing a bit stiff and not leaning against the doorway as he usually would when he visited.  This was no visit, you staring into his eyes and almost reading his mind.  He stared back, the violet shade in his eyes and the gaze he held with you was enough to understand what he was mentally saying to you.

"I'll protect him"

Azriel was with you at home and Rhysand and Cassian came rushing through the door, looking as if they saw a ghost when they saw yourself, Azriel, and Alec playing together in the living room.  Azriel took them out to the back garden, not wishing for Alec to listen while you couldn't help but watch from the kitchen window.  From the look on their faces and how Azriel's calm demeanor hardened instantly, you knew what they were talking about.

Eris.

You've had plenty of nights waking up from tremors and nightmares, replaying that moment when you were trying to flee from the Autumn Court soldiers and being shot down within seconds.  The poison spreads through you, your body shutting down within seconds and feeling unbearable pain.  You would wake up gasping for air, sometimes you would scream from how intense the nightmares were.  

But every time it happened, Azriel held you close and kissed away the tears and hummed away the pain.  You knew what he went through when you were recovering at River House, though he would try to hide it from you and not let you see it on his face.  But sometimes you would see it, how his eyes lingered on your scarred wing a moment or two longer, or you would feel it in the bond with the worry and protection that was festering deep.  It was more intense than it was before, and more brutal too.  You would reassure him over and over that you were safe and alive, but you realized that he would never truly be satisfied.

Not until Eris was dead.

"I need you to stay here with your momma, okay?" You looked back at Azriel, who was kneeling in front of Alec in his leathers and Truth Teller strapped against his hip.  Alec looked rather confused and a bit sad that his father was leaving abruptly, his bright eyes wide and his bottom lip threatening to quiver, "I have to go take care of something with you Uncles Rhysand and Cassian,"

"Can't I come help, Daddy?  I'm big now, remember?" Alec asked hopefully, Azriel smiled and reached out to cup his son's face with his scarred palm.  You pushed your tears away quickly, not wishing for Alec to see as your mate and son shared a moment in your small home.  This home, meant to be a safe space and a space filled with love, was now festering with uncertainty and hate thanks to the Autumn Prince.  Azriel swore to you, long ago, that your life together would not be tainted or taken away.  He kept the promise, even after Alec came along. He was doing it now, eliminating a threat.

When Azriel explained to you that Eris was back in Autumn Court, being held by his father for Azriel and the others to deal with, you were beyond afraid for your mate.  Azriel has come so far in his life to be where he was: happy with a family and no longer haunted by darkness and hate.  It took blood, sweat, and tears for Azriel to overcome and conquer the ghosts in his past and not let them defy him.  

Now you were afraid he would resort back to the lethal part of himself that you hated.

"You are big," Azriel agreed, staring into his son's eyes and seeing Alec look at him with some sadness there, "You are very big, Alec.  Remember what we talked about, you being the man of the house while I'm away?"

Alec nodded his head, tears were about to brim.

"You need to be that man of the house now, Alec.  I need to go with your Uncles, and you need to stay here with your momma where you both will be safe.  I always tell you that I will do anything and everything to keep you and your momma safe, right?"

"R-Right," Alec blubbered, inhaling sharply as Azriel leaned forward and touched his head with his own.  You felt your own heart slam hard seeing the gesture, something they would do together from time to time to show affection.  Azriel never minded hugging his son or kissing him constantly, he would pour his love into his son whenever he could.  Almost as a way to replace what he never had as a child, but when their foreheads touched, it was sacred.  The bond grew every single time, and it was a beautiful sight to see.

"I'll be back before you know it, buddy," He whispered to Alec, who hugged him tightly and dug his head into his father's shoulder.  Azriel's arms went around him quickly and kept him close, you feeling in the bond that he was feeling remorse in leaving his son and the insane love he had for him.  Nothing else could compare in this lifetime, and you also would fight tooth and nail to keep your family together.  

"You promise?" Alec mumbled in his father's neck.  Azriel hummed, you seeing him try not to break in front of his son.

"I promise, Alec Rhysand," he replied, kissing the top of his head and then pulling away to look at his son one more time.  He thumbed away the tears, Alec looking a bit calmer but still heartbroken in not understanding what was going on, "You take care of your momma, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy," He replied, Azriel then moved away from him to walk over to you.  You both stared at one another, Azriel seeing how you too were trying to keep it together.  You both already talked about this, right after he got word about Eris and his whereabouts.  Seeing the rage in his eyes and how he sounded heated when you were pleading with him not to go, not in the mindset he was in.  You felt the rage, the anger that was in his core which seemed to grow by the day.  But you knew he was set in his ways when it came to Eris and what he attempted to do to his family.  Eris's fate was already made, and Azriel would make sure he was no longer a threat.

By any means necessary.

You come back to me in one piece, You said in the bond, drilling your own blue eyes in his hazel ones.  Azriel moved without a second thought, standing in front of you and kissing you softly. This kiss was something that seemed concrete, almost cemented within you.  It was not rough or passionate, nor was it too soft and merely brief.  No, this felt like the first kiss you two ever shared when you two were young and blissfully in love with one another.  It was then that you realized that he was telling you through the kiss, that he loved you more than anything or anyone else in all the world around you.

He pulled away from the kiss and pressed his own forehead against your own, breathing you in one more time as you heard his voice in your bond, I won't leave this world without you with me.

Before you could say anything else, he released his hold on you and moved out of the house, walking past Rhysand in long strides as you watched with heartbreak and worry.  Rhysand stayed still, watching Azriel stalk to the grassy field in front of the cottage.  You wanted to say something, anything, to keep him there with you and not go into that dark place.  But you knew there was nothing you could do, so you looked to your cousin who was about to join Azriel.

"Rhys," You called, Rhysand looking back at you and seeing the fear in your eyes, "Promise me that he doesn't lose himself,"

Rhysand, pausing to drink in what you said and realizing what you meant.  He too saw the dark side of Azriel, the nasty side, and he too wanted the Shadowsinger to not go back to his old self.  He saw the pain, the literal torture even, of what Azriel went through as a child and even as a young adult.  They were brother so to speak, Rhysand was one of the very few beings that Azriel trusted with his life.  

"Promise me, cousin," You voiced, Rhysand hearing the tremor in your voice as Azriel was waiting for Rhysand out in the field.  You wanted to hear it from Rhysand, not only as your High Lord of Night Court but as your cousin and someone who took care of both yourself and Azriel.  He knew of your relationship, he saw it blossoming from the very beginning when you two met, and you had to be sure he was going to protect him as much as he could.

"I promise," He replied soothingly, and as he and Azriel took to the sky and you watched them disappear in the rays of the sun, you could only hope that Azriel would not lose himself to what he was about to do.  

Hope seemed like a deep-term

To Be Continued...

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @alwayshave-faith

[lulublack90]

Prompt 20 - Vision

@jegulus-microfic March 20, Word count 666

Previous part First part

“Oh, what the ever loving?!” James was jolted awake by Sirius’s protestations. “Really? In my bed, really?!” 

“Shh, you’ll wake Reg,” James tried to hush his friend. 

“Good! Maybe then you’ll get out of my bed!”

“Oh, shut up, Sirius,” Regulus yawned and stretched in the most adorable way James had ever seen. 

Regulus rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows, the covers sliding down his bare chest and pooling in his lap. James thought he looked like a vision, felt a warmth spread through him as he thought about last night and how beautiful he looked then as well.“When was the last time you even slept in here?” Sirius let out a scoff and glared at his brother, his fists clenched by his sides. 

“It’s still my bed!” Sirius gritted out, red sparks flickering across his hands. James decided he needed to defuse the situation before the brothers ended up fighting again. 

“Sirius, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. How did last night go?” Sirius let out a sigh and slumped onto Remus’s bed. 

“Moony wasn’t happy about being locked up again. He spent most of the night pacing the walls and howling. Even Padfoot’s most playful moves couldn't distract him. Remus will be exhausted today,” 

“It was probably a good decision to lock him up as we had a few unexpected visitors last night,” James said, some of the anger he felt last night seeping into his words. Sirius cocked his head, waiting for him to go on. Regulus squirmed beside him. James put a hand on his thigh to stop him. “Barty Crouch caught Regulus with the mandrake leaves and put two and two together. He snuck out and found us in the forest, demanding he be included in the animagus training,” 

“Well, that’s not so bad. I mean he’s a total prat,” Sirius shrugged. “But if it keeps him quiet I don’t see what the problem is,” Regulus squirmed again and James tightened his grip. 

“He brought friends,” James gritted out. Sirius sat upright. 

“How many are we talking?” Regulus took one from James, answering Sirius’s question. 

“Evan Rosier, Dorcas Meadowes and Pandora Rosier,” Sirius flopped back onto the bed, his arm covering his eyes. 

“Right, that’s a lot,”

“That’s not all,” Regulus swallowed and looked at James, who nodded for him to go on. “James let it slip how many unregistered animagi there would be running around Hogwarts and Barty realised the numbers were off. He asked why there wouldn’t be nine of us just as Remus howled. It took him seconds to put the pieces together,”

“WHAT!” Sirius roared, bolting upright, his nostrils flaring as the red sparks returned, this time trailing across his entire body. 

“Sirius, calm down. There’s no point exploding now. We need to wait for Remus so we can discuss what happens next,” James said in his most soothing voice. Sirius’s shoulders slumped, and the sparks vanished as quickly as they had appeared. 

“Can you get out of my bed now?” he asked, his voice full of sadness and sounding weary. 

“Sure thing, Pads.” James looked around for his underwear, missing the moment Regulus threw the covers off himself and walked naked over to James’s empty bed. 

“Merlin's beard, Regulus! Do you have to?!” Sirius groaned, exasperatedly as he covered his eyes and turned away. 

“Yes,” Regulus replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he turned to look over his shoulder. “You coming, love? I feel like continuing on from last night,”

“Regulus Arcturus Black!” Sirius squawked in disbelief. 

“I’d recommend you cast your own silencing charm, dear brother,” Regulus smirked as James, sadly covered by his boxers, made his way over to his bed. “You too, Pettigrew,” James spun and caught a fish of Peter’s beet-red cheeks as he wrenched his curtains closed around his bed. James sighed and shook his head. What on Earth was he going to do with him? He clambered into the bed and kissed Regulus hard. 

Next part

[jegulusficrecs]

Sober Thoughts

By bizarrestars, moonymoment

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Summary: James doesn't know why Regulus hates him. Regulus doesn't know why James likes him. They never expect to find out, but when they do, it changes everything.

***

"Hey!" James blurts out, alarmed, and maybe he does have a thing for people who are mean to him, because it's so clear to him like this, with Regulus trying to close yet another door, and James only feeling the urge to get inside grow larger with each push against his weight—yes, yes, this is something. It's a game, and it's not. It's a game, and James doesn't want to win; he wants to keep playing and level up forever. "Reg, wait, just—"

"No visitors today," Regulus says, then gives a weak, deadpan cough. "I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit under the weather, so for your own sake—"

"Cough in my mouth for all I care," James says, rolling his eyes. "Just let me in."

"You're disgusting," Regulus mutters on the other side of the door, though his grip goes slack, so James proceeds to trip inside and nearly land on his face.

James rights himself just in time and beams at him.

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Regulus/James

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 33,740

Chapters: 2/2

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My Thoughts: MISCOMMUNICATION MISCOMMUNICATION MISCOMMUNICATION they are both so silly. I love them. I actually even got up and made myself scrambled eggs because of this one :/ haha

(sign in required)

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@klarolinexluv <3

[regwishesshehadmagic]

Dream visitor

[awesomelynerdymama]

Thank y'all for the love on the short prologue for this! I appreciate the kind words and encouragement. Here is the first official chapter for the fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Love is a Funny Thing

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OFC x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Triggers: Character significant other death, cancer, funeral, some grown up language, general awkwardness that arises when you're around someone you like and you're trying not to be obvious

Disclaimer: I own nothing Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick related. I just borrow the characters for my own self indulgent purposes.

Chapter One

You rolled onto your back, hand searching the nightstand blindly for your phone to silence the all too chipper alarm. You lie on your back for just a moment to get your bearings before pushing yourself to a seated position on your side of the bed. Your side, because even after six months without Mike you still can't bring yourself to sleep in the middle of the bed.

One glance over your shoulder confirmed that the bedding on that side was still untouched. Ironic, considering during the entirety of your marriage the bed was never made because everyone used separate blankets. You like to cocoon at night and you can't do that while sharing blankets, but even that had changed and now you forced yourself to remake your side of the bed before walking around it to get to your bathroom. It's ridiculous that you take the time to make the walk every day, but Mike always insisted the guy sleeps closer to the door, so there you were taking the extra unneeded steps.

A glance in the mirror showed that the healthy look had started to return to your face as you gained back some of the stress weight loss that had made you look frail. Your body still showed the wear of five kids and multiple weight changes, but your face was looking younger than it had in years, thank you healing and a good skincare routine that you actually followed. A quick shower and you were on your way to the kitchen in your favorite robe. You never thought you'd be a robe girly, but with the traffic in and out of your house being unpredictable over the past couple of years, full coverage seemed the only safe bet or so you thought.

The lights and the coffee maker were switched on one after the other before you made your way to the bottom of the stairs and called, “Lily! Harper! Charlotte! Time to get up girls!”

After confirming sounds of life, you made your way back to the kitchen to start breakfast. The back door swung open and the kitchen became a whirlwind of noses and tails as your three dogs alerted you to a visitor. Nymphadora, your elderly mountain cur, ambled over to get ear scratches and kisses before taking a drink of water and collapsing on her bed. You followed her progress and noted, not for the first time, that her days were probably winding down. She had been Mike's dog through and through and your heart warmed at the thought of them being together again, though you knew you'd miss her like crazy.

Dobby, your French bulldog, and Charlie, your border collie mix, were definitely not puppies anymore, but were much more excited about your company than their sister was. Both were jumping on Bradley like it was the first time they'd met him and you chuckled softly at their enthusiasm.

Leaning one hip against the counter, coffee cup in hand, you took the time to observe Bradley in his NWUs. He looked like a walking Navy recruitment ad, though his hair was probably a touch out of regs on top and you found yourself blushing at the thoughts running through your mind at what you'd like to do to him in that uniform before being almost physically knocked over as guilt hammered you in the chest and you turned away to find something to busy yourself.

Luck didn't seem to be on your side, though, as Bradley came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you into him as he planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, “Good morning, Mama.”

You tried not to stiffen in his arms, but his timing was just the worst, so you patted his arms before gently pulling away to grab him a coffee mug and pouring him a cup. The familiar action gave you a moment to gather yourself and your cheery smile was back in place when you turned to hand it to him.

“Good morning, sunshine. You know you don't have to come over here every morning? I am capable of getting everyone ready and off to school by myself. I've done it for years,” you chided as Bradley took a sip from the cup before you took a sip of your own.

The moan that followed the first sip he took had your mind racing right back to the dirty place it had been previously and you mentally chastised yourself for having those thoughts so soon after losing Mike and for someone who was very much off-limits for multiple reasons. Then you brushed it off as just thoughts and moved back across the room to the bottom of the stairs to call up again, “Are y'all up?”

Two responding groans meant someone was still sleeping. You debated for a second on the best course of action before starting up the stairs and turning to your left, glancing quickly into the bathroom to ensure the girls were actually getting ready.

“Lily Claire, you need to get up, sweet girl,” you called softly as your middle children stirred in her bed. You padded across the room and rubbed her back as you pulled the covers down, “Come on, baby, you're going to be late if you don't get up. It's Friday, so you only have to make it through today and then tonight we're going to get the house ready for the squad to come over tomorrow.”

The last sentence had her bounding out of bed to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at the switch, but at least she was awake. Walking back by the bathroom showed that the early risers were almost finished and that you needed to hurry up with breakfast.

Bradley was still in the same spot that you left him, though probably with significantly less coffee in his cup. His eyes found yours as soon as they came into view and he had a look in his eye that on anyone else you might have pegged as want, but that was ridiculous. Bradley was very happily in a relationship with your other best friend, Jake, and they were both also best friends with your late husband, so yeah definitely not want.

What you didn't know, though, was that while you were moving across the room and calling up the stairs he was watching your every move and taking you in like he always did. Between the two, Jake was the talker, which left Bradley the ability to be the observer and he loved observing you. Loved everything about you, actually, had for quite a while, so he was happy to note, like you had, that you were finally filling back out and looking healthier.

Your hair, which you hadn't bothered to do anything with after your shower fell in long dark waves down to the middle of your back and he knew that as it dried your glitter strands, as you liked to refer to them, would glint in the Coronado sun. He loved that you didn't dye your hair like most of the vast population of the area. Your hair was getting longer again too after you cut it short during Mike's illness. A necessity, you reasoned at the time, being more practical while your life revolved around medical appointments and kids’ school schedules. The well loved robe you had wrapped yourself in left little to the imagination and while you would argue that having five kids and fluctuating up and down in weight multiple times over the course of your life had ruined your body, Bradley would very much disagree if what he could see was any indication.

He heard the lack of a third response and knew you were headed upstairs. It was Lily. She wasn't a morning person even more than Jake wasn't a morning person and that was saying something. What he didn't expect, however, was for your robe to inch up ever so slightly as you rose, giving him just the briefest glimpse of what you were wearing under it, which wasn't much.

That was the reason Bradley was still standing exactly where you left him. He had been mentally replaying the sight of your floral, lacy underwear and the feminine curve of your ass. It was something he'd been trying to picture for a while. He knew what your underwear looked like, he'd helped you do laundry before, and he could probably map your ass with his eyes closed given all the time he'd spent staring at it, but the visual of the two together was almost more than he could take. He felt like a fucking teenager with a hard-on standing in your kitchen after seeing less than he could in a Victoria's Secret catalog.

He had switched to envisioning the least sexy things he could think of by the time you came back downstairs (Mav in a maid’s uniform, Mickey streaking down the road last time he got plowed, Cyclone doing pretty much anything), so he had things back under control by the time he met your eyes, but he couldn't help the heated gaze that met yours. He saw you stop short for a second and your expression turned quizzical, but you shook it off, obviously believing, like always, that he could never see you that way. If only you knew.

Thankfully, you were both saved from any awkward conversation by the back door opening again and Jake walking in looking decidedly less chipper than Bradley. You supposed Bradley's call sign was Rooster for a reason, though you had the suspicion that there were other reasons, and Jake's Hangman call sign had you wondering if it had one of the vowels wrong based on what you'd observed, and now you were right back in the gutter.

“I thought you were going to wake me up,” Jake grumbled at Bradley as he took the cup of coffee you offered, pulled you in with a hand on the waist, and lightly kissed your cheek, “Good Morning, darlin.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled away just as discreetly as you had with Bradley earlier. That's the thing you'd noticed about your gay friends, or in their case bisexual even though you'd never seen either with anyone else other than the other, they were very physically demonstrative, which you normally loved, but damn did it make things confusing with your hormones sometimes.

You did notice Bradley's eyes go to the ceiling as you squeezed past him in the suddenly cramped kitchen, but you must have bumped into him or stepped on his foot or something. He really was behaving strangely this morning, but you knew you'd never get an answer out of him, so you didn't even bother asking. You continued your path to the fridge to gather eggs, butter, bacon, and milk. The girls were getting eggs and bacon this morning because it was quick and you still needed to get ready. Reaching up in the pantry to grab a loaf of bread for toast, you heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, so you whipped around to find Jake staring a hole through you with wide eyes and Bradley, in turn, staring wide eyed at him.

“What is up with y'all today,” you questioned as you set your ingredients on the counter next to the stove, “you're both being weird. Are you getting sick? Do I need to force y'all to go to the infirmary?” You went between the two feeling foreheads, cheeks, and necks with a practiced mother's concern. Jake corraled your flying hands and kissed your knuckles.

“We're all good, sweetheart, just have a lot going on at work this week,” he reassured, gently ushering you back to what you had been doing.

You turned on the burner and started cracking eggs into a bowl and then had a thought, “Will everyone still be able to come over tomorrow?”

Busy weeks at work for them often meant working on the weekends to get things mission ready and you knew the girls would be disappointed if they had to reschedule, so your mind immediately sprang to ways to make it up to them.

Bradley finally spoke for the first time in a while, being quiet even for him today, “Absolutely. Everyone's looking forward to it. You know, we could host these things from time to time to take some of the stress off you. I mean we're right next door now and we share a backyard, so it's not like it'd be much of a change in venue.”

You shot him a glare, “Are you trying to take my hostess rights away from me, Bradshaw?”

His hands shot up in defense and he sputtered, “God, no, I just meant….”

Your laugh let him off the hook, “I know. I was just teasing. I like having everyone over. It makes things seem back to normal for a little bit. I want us to spend as much time with y'all as we can before you replace us with a new logistics family.”

The comment was made in jest, but the worry was a genuine one. Mike had been gone for more than six months and while military bureaucracy moved slowly, they were set to get their new logistician any day and nothing said that wouldn't replace them in every way with their Dagger Squad family. It was a weird relationship for the military. Logistics officers worked with entire units, not just individual squads, but for some reason these knuckleheads had wormed their way into your family's heart and vice versa. Losing them would almost be like losing Mike all over again. Both men silently enveloped you in a hug and you let a few tears slip out before wiping them away.

Jake hooked a finger under your chin to force you to raise your eyes to his, “That will never happen and I need you to know that. Y'all are special to the whole squad and nothing is going to change that, so get it out of your head.”

You smiled up at him and leaned into his palm that had migrated to the side of your face as he spoke before gently pulling his wrist away so you could get back to breakfast as your herd thundered down the stairs. The girls loved their Navy uncles and hugs were exchanged all around. Even though they all loved each other equally, Lily and Jake were especially close and so were Harper and Bradley. Charlotte, as the baby, had always been a mama's girl and that still rang true.

You were still working on breakfast, so Jake double checked backpacks and lunches, and Bradley made sure outfits passed muster along with hair and teeth. You were telling the truth earlier when you told Bradley you didn't need the morning help, but it sure was nice not to have to do it alone. Even though you knew you weren't quite ready to start dating again, you did wonder, in passing, how a new significant other would fit into your current family dynamic, but they'd have to find a way because under no circumstances were you severing relationships with any of the squad, these two especially.

Shortly after breakfast was finished and plates were put into the sink, the girls bus stopped at the end of the driveway and they were flying out the door excited to get through the day and help get ready for the get-together you were hosting the next night. You were just thankful that they were all finally getting to an age where they could help take care of your home instead of leaving it all up to you like things had been when they were younger and Mike was gone a lot for work.

Turning from the door, you are now alone with your two favorite pilots who both appear to be working on their second cups of coffee after finishing their own plates of breakfast. Jake turned to start loading the dishwasher and Bradley started pulling out containers to put away the leftovers.

“Y'all don't have to do that,” you said for the thousandth time and for the thousandth time, they responded, “You fed us and caffeinated us. The least we can do is clean up.”

“I actually appreciate that even more than usual because, actually, I have a job interview this morning. Well, job is a bit of a stretch. It's a volunteer position on post,” you blurted all this out rapid fire all of a sudden very unsure of how they'd handle the news. Even though it had no real bearings on their lives.

Both heads snapped up at the news and you braced yourself for the questions you knew were coming.

“A job on base? What made you decide that?”

“Why didn't you tell us earlier? Not that we don't think that's great.”

Okay, you weren't expecting all the questions from both of them simultaneously, but you've got this.

“Okay, from the top. Yes, on base. It's been six months since we lost Mike and even though the insurance money means I don't have to work, I'm sick of sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself and because this is a volunteer position I won't be getting paid anyway, but it could lead to a paid position in the future. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if it was a sure thing and then even when I knew it was, it seemed so insignificant compared to what you do that it seemed silly to even bring it up,” the blurting continued.

They both just stared for a moment, presumably digesting the blurting.

“Darlin, everything you do is important to us. We're family and of course, we're proud of you. That's a big step and maybe we'll get to see you a little bit during the day,” Jake soothed once he finally came out of his stupor.

Your eyes rolled again, “Yes, because two of the top pilots on the station are going to take the time to mix it up with ‘Navy Widow’ volunteer taking civilians around the base on tours and yes, I know the widow thing pisses you off, but I'd be lying if it i said it wasn't part of the reason they created the position for me.”

God, why couldn't you shut up?

Neither looked pleased with the additional information, but Bradley looked absolutely murderous. You hadn't considered that his mom had been in much the same position as you when he was young and you felt awful at blurting it out like that. His dad had died in a training accident, so not exactly the same, but his mom had died of cancer in his teens, so the parallels were there to draw to both.

Your feet must not have made any noise padding across the floor because he jumped at the feeling of your arms wrapping around his neck, his face quickly found the crook of your neck and his arms made their way around your waist as you pulled him in for a hug.

“I'm sorry. I didn't consider how any of this would make you feel. I'm a horrible friend. I love you and and I'm sorry,” the earnest, worried expression on your face almost had Bradley pulling you in for a kiss, but he fought it and just held you for a few more moments until he knew you'd start thinking it was weird. He let you pull back to arms length before reassuring you that he wasn't upset with you, just a little taken aback.

“Okay, well, I'm going to go get dressed for my interview,” you exclaimed while bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your excitement was adorable and both men relished the sight of you so happy after seeing you so sad for so long. They watched you practically skip down the hall before turning back to each other as they continued cleaning up from breakfast.

“You have got to get a grip on yourself,” Jake admonished.

Bradley scoffed, “Please, I'm completely in control.”

“Babe, there have been at least two times this morning alone that I thought you were going to kiss her or I was going to have to step in to prevent it,” Jake shot back, annoyed with his boyfriend’s flippant attitude.

Bradley groaned and let his head fall back against the cabinet behind him, “Okay, you're right. Staying away from her seems to be getting harder every day. Babe, I don't know how much longer I can do it. I mean, did you see her ass in those lacy panties? It took everything in me not to drop to my knees and bury my face in them!”

“Everything okay,” your question rang from down the hall and Bradley winced at how loud he had gotten as Jake shot him a look from his spot next to the dishwasher​.

“Yeah, everything's all good, darlin. We were just arguing about who's turn it was to do dishes at our place tonight,” Jake smoothly lied.

“With as many dishes as y'all have done for me, it's probably time I returned the favor,” you called back, “just for laughs I could even put on one of those ridiculous French maid outfits.”

Bradley's eyes widened and he pushed himself off the counter, but before he could make a move or say a word that would bring undue attention, Jake pulled him in for a kiss. Jake had meant it as a quick distraction, but all of the pent up sexual frustration of the morning poured out of Bradley as he backed Jake up against the counter and wrapped his hand around the back of Jake's neck. His other hand had just started stroking Jake through the front of his uniform pants when your quiet voice called back down the hall.

“Umm, would one of y'all mind helping me,” you asked, sounding a little embarrassed.

Jake pushed Bradley back slightly and cleared his throat, “Umm, yeah, I'll be right there.”

He turned back to Bradley before walking away, “You stay here. If you walk in there and she looks anything short of being on death's door, you're going to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress before she can get a word out, so you just stay.”

Bradley's mouth opened to argue, but he thought better of it, snapped his mouth shut, and just nodded before attempting to adjust himself in his tight uniform pants.

Jake turned, tried to do much the same thing and started down the hall toward your bedroom trying very hard not to think about what he'd like to do in a room with you and a bed. The sight that met him when he pushed the door open did nothing to dispel those thoughts. You were standing at the foot of your bed in a navy colored, body skimming dress that was open at the back down to your waist revealing the bra that matched the aforementioned panties that were visible just at the waistline of your dress.

“Jake? Jake? Hangman,” you raised your voice on the last one to get his attention, “would you mind zipping me up? I've tried and I just can't manage it.

Jake cursed his tight pants again before stepping forward and grasping the small zipper in his large hand. His other hand held the fabric at the base of the zipper as his knuckles softly brushed the skin of your back as the zipper rose. As Jake reached the top of the zipper he could have sworn that he heard a small whimper escape your lips, but before he could be sure, you were turning to face him with a smile and a necklace in hand.

“Could you put this on too? It's hard to get the clasp when you can't see it,” you explained before turning again.

Jake gently placed the necklace around your neck and careful secured the ridiculously small clasp when, without thinking, he leaned forward and placed a kiss right where the clasp sat against your skin. This time he definitely saw a shiver run up your body and he cursed himself for not thinking as his pants began to tighten in the front once again.

You turned to look up at him with your big, brown, doe eyes and Jake scrambled to find something to say, “That's, uh, a pretty necklace. Where'd you get it?”

“It's a mother's necklace with all the kids' birthstones. Mike gave it to me for Mother's Day last year,” you responded looking down at the necklace fondly.

Dead best friend and husband, yep, that would do it. Jake was finally able to shake the fog that had settled over him when stepped into the room with you and now you were ushering him back or so you could finish getting ready.

Jake must have still looked a little shell shocked as he made it back to the kitchen because Bradley immediately asked him what was wrong and when Jake explained what happened, he found himself back in Bradley's arms with their mouths moving against one another.

They didn't hear you coming down the hall a few minutes later until you said, “Hey now, it is incredibly unfair for people as good looking as y'all to be doing that in a celibate person's house. Keep it up and you're going to start giving a girl needs.”

“Well, you're welcome to join in anytime you want, sweetheart,” Bradley offered with a chuckle.

“Oh, oh really,” you questioned softly, your whole demeanor changing as you made your way over to them, your hips swaying a little more than normal, drawing both men's attention.

You stopped barely an inch in front of the pair and slowly trailed your fingers up from their belt buckles and over their chests to wrap around the back of their necks as one hand from each man fell to your hips.

“You mean,” you whispered softly, as you pulled yourself up on your toes, bring your body flush with theirs, “all I have to do is ask and you'll both kiss me like that?”

You moved in toward Bradley, your eyes never leaving his lips as you felt Jake move behind you to effectively trap you between the two. Bradley's eyes were hooded and you could hear both of them breathing hard. That wasn't the only hard thing either. Not a surprise considering they had been going at it like teenagers just a few moments ago. Then, just as your lips were about to meet, you started giggling, which turned into a full on laugh.

“Oh man, y'all have gotten good,” you commended as you slipped from between them, “I've never lost chicken to y'all before. I must be losing my touch.”

You looked back at both men standing there stunned. You were confused. It was a game y'all had played all the time before Mike got sick. Hell Mike had been the champion. He actually got Bradley to kiss him once, though they'd both been really drunk and you weren't a hundred percent sure that wasn't the outcome he wanted in the first place.

They were still standing in exactly the same spot, “Are y'all okay?”

Jake recovered first, “Yeah, we just can't believe we took down the reigning queen. Umm, we have to get going. There's an early briefing we forgot about. We'll see you tonight for dinner. Love you.”

He grabbed Bradley’s cover and shoved it in his arms before grabbing his own and bodily forcing them out the back door.

That was weird. Normally they'd give you a ration of shit for losing. It's not like them to let you off scot-free. Whatever, you had a meeting to get to as well, so you gathered up your purse, phone, keys, and makeup bag, took one last look at your hair and makeup in the hall mirror and headed out the door to your Suburban.

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The ride to the base was uneventful and you enjoyed the time by listening to a podcast and sipping your coffee from your mama bear travel mug. You parked in visitor parking and hopped down from your tank of a vehicle. You were wearing heels, but you were still a diminutive height even on the best day.

The building housed offices for all the major commanding officers stationed at NAS North Island and it looked as imposing as the men and women it housed. You took the elevator to the second floor and made your way to the office of COMPACFLT, currently Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and the office of his Deputy Commander Vice Admiral Solomon “Warlock” Bates. You had known both men for years as Mike had a habit of endearing himself to others regardless of rank and they had been beyond helpful when you were sorting things out after his death.

Still they were imposing men in imposing positions in an imposing building, so to say you weren't nervous would be a lie. You quietly stepped up to the young ensign seated at the desk outside Admiral Simpson's office and gave him your name. He asked you to take a seat and rose, presumably, to let the man know you were there.

A few moments later you heard a familiar voice say, “Hannah, it's so good to see you. How have you been?”

Beau Simpson was a formidable man who had definitely been devastatingly handsome in his youth and was still very good looking even if he did frown more than he smiled. He did favor you with a rare smile when he pulled you into a hug when you awkwardly tried to shake his hand.

“I think we're well beyond handshakes by now. Don't you,” had the Commander of the Pacific Fleet just teased you?

“I suppose we are, Admiral. I really never will be able to thank you and Admiral Bates for all the help you gave me and the girls when Mike passed,” you spoke trying to convey all the sincerity you felt.

As if on cue, Solomon Bates opened the door of his office next door and automatically pulled you into a hug as well. It felt odd to be so unimportant, but so familiar with the two most powerful men on the island. You could feel the eyes of both men's assistants burning into you trying to figure out who you were to warrant such a welcome.

Admiral Simpson ushered all of you into his office and closed the door behind him. He gestured for you to take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk and Admiral Bates took the other. Everything about the office screamed Commanding Admiral from the large mahogany desk to the rows of Naval literature lining the walls to the large antique Maritime maps making up much of the decor.

“Hannah, do you know why we brought you here,” Simpson questioned from behind the enormous desk.

You decided to go for quippy to see how far you could push the staid man, “To lighten the decor?”

He actually had the decency to genuinely laugh. He was definitely softening in his older age. Admiral Bates also chuckled next to you.

“Seriously, though, sirs, I know that you want to raise public opinion of the Navy and most likely the military in general, since both took pretty significant hits under the previous administration and the current administration has been trying to overhaul public perception in almost every sector. Presumably, one of the first and easiest ways to open up to the public with tours and access to Naval personnel,” you offered the most likely explanation you could think of.

“First, you are a very smart and perceptive woman. I knew we made the right choice. Second, none of this sir or Admiral business. One of the most important optics of this program is that we're not above or removed from the everyday civilian. You can call us by first name or call sign. Third, do you know why we chose you for this,” Cyclone’s responding list was an interesting mix of the expected and the surprising. You definitely knew the answer to the last question, though.

“I cut a sympathetic figure? I'm a Navy widow, but my husband didn't die in combat, which could leave people conflicted and he did die of cancer, which is something that touches everybody's life and gives me a personal connection with every person I interact with,” you responded smoothly.

“Very perceptive, indeed,” Warlock interjected.

“You also have a personal relationship with the unit we're going to have as our go to for tours,” Cyclone added.

That was an unexpected turn of events, “The Daggers? Why them? Nevermind. I already know the answer. Planes are sexy. Pilots are more interesting than your average sailor and this squad, in particular, is more parade-pretty than most.”

Both men chuckled at the term, but didn't dispute anything you said. The squad would get metaphorical asses in metaphorical seats, of that you had no doubt.

The remainder of the meeting was going over logistics. What days and how many tours to give a day, what source material to use for your talking points, and what to do if Maverick or any of the hotheads on the Squad lose their cool in front of guests. That last one you had plenty of personal experience dealing with off base, so you weren't worried.

Once the details were ironed out, Cyclone and Warlock stood and you quickly followed suit. At the door Beau turned to you, “So, are you ready to go tell your friends about their new duties?”

Your eyebrows raised to your hairline and your eyes went round, “They don't know?!?!?!”

Both ensigns jumped at the sudden outburst and you quickly apologized before turning back to the officers at your side, “Well, I'm certainly not telling them, especially Maverick. He hates PR anything and I want all of them to still like me. Not something I think either of you are particularly concerned with.”

Your comment was, once again, met with chuckles and no denials. The three of you made your way out of the building to one of the base jeeps parked out front and you weren't sure if it was the California heat or nerves that had you sweating in the passenger seat, both men having insisted you take it while another ensign drove you across base to the hangar that held your found family.

You were watching the base slide past as you made the drive and before you knew it you were at the hangar. You weren't sure why you were nervous. It's not you they were going to be mad at. You weren't the one that was going to order them to turn on the charm for the public. The Admirals got out first and you hung back in the car, not sure what exactly you were supposed to do.

The squad was sitting in the makeshift classroom facing away from the entrance. You waited until Warlock had their full attention before you slipped quietly from the Jeep. Your heels were the only noise you made, but Maverick met your eye as soon as you cleared the door. He must have sensed you just wanted to listen because he didn't acknowledge you beyond a brief head nod.

You heard the groans as soon as the squad realized what was going on and you knew you'd have to pull out the big guns to get them on your side. The wind blowing through the hangar suddenly changed direction and you were nearly blown off your feet as a strong guest blew in from behind you. You saw Hangman and Rooster straighten in their seats. Something had gotten their attention. Warlock wasn't saying anything particularly interesting, so you were puzzled at what it could be. You weren't able to think on it too much because the next thing you heard was Solomon saying your name and beckoning you to the front of the room.

You pushed off the table you had been leaning against and made your way forward. You could feel their eyes burning into you. You wish you had known this was going to happen so you could have given them the heads up. You finally turned in your heels and looked at the group in front of you.

“Look, I know y'all don't want to do this. It's going to interrupt your days and take up too much time. People are going to ask stupid, repetitive questions. You're going to hear me say the same speech over and over. It sucks. I get it, but here's the thing,” you started as soon as you saw Natasha open her mouth to fend off the onslaught you knew was coming, “the Navy needs the positive press and y'all are just too pretty to pass up. Blame your parents for good genetics. Here's what's going to happen. Hangman's going to use the megawatt smile and a wink to charm the pants off the older women. Phoenix is going to scare the pants off everyone. Payback and Fanboy are going to make friends with anyone feeling remotely awkward. Coyote is going to bond with anyone even remotely aviation inclined. Rooster is going to flutter the heart of every broody teenage girl and Maverick will find something in common with every vet that comes through here and Bob will melt the heart of every teenage girl that walks through that door because he is a fucking ray of sunshine compared to the rest of you egotistical assholes. Now, look me in the eye and tell me that I'm wrong,” you finished waiting for any response. There was none.

You stepped away from the podium before adding, “Listen, I know and love all of you and I know you love me and the girls too, so if you won't do it for another reason, do it for them. The last thing they need is to see hate directed toward the institution their father spent his life serving.”

You knew that hit home with all of them by the silence that followed you back to the Jeep. Yeah, it was probably a low blow and a bit overly dramatic, but it was for the best for everyone and they needed to see that. You turned as you got back into the Jeep to see Jake still watching you while everyone else seemed to be talking about, or in Natasha's case arguing about, what they had just been told, well ordered really.

‘Proud of you,’ he mouthed, making you duck your head and tuck your hair behind your ear. You were absolutely the worst at taking compliments or praise of any kind.

You managed a quick ‘thank you’ before Cyclone and Warlock pulled away from Maverick and headed back in your direction. Once in the Jeep there was a moment of silence before both men started laughing, actually laughing.

“Well that was a sight to behold to be sure,” Warlock finally got out.

“You are something else, my dear, and exactly what I think we need to get this program off the ground,” Cyclone offered as the ensign began the drive back across the base.

You hugged both men again outside your car once you were back with a follow up meeting scheduled in a week to determine how long it will take you to get the basic talking points worked out and when you could expect to start your first tours.

You were flying high on your way home and decided to stop at your favorite coffee shop for a treat. You even found a parking spot right out front. Yep, it was a good day.

The bell over the door chimed as you stepped into the mostly empty restaurant. As you were making your way to the counter, the barista came out from the back room. It was Gabriel. Gabriel looked like one of those guys on the covers of romance novels and was an absolute sweetheart to boot.

“Hey Hannah, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure,” Gabriel spoke as you stopped in front of him. You rolled your eyes as you looked through the bakery case, maybe you were here a little too often.

“Laying it on a little thick today, aren't we Gabriel,” you shot back before straightening up and meeting his eye, “I'll take a large caramel macchiato and a zucchini muffin.”

He started putting together your order before responding, “What can I say? You're my favorite customer and I'm not afraid to say it.”

“Yeah, I bet you tell all your customers that. I bet it gets you the big tips too,” you teased.

The conversation lulled for a few moments as Gabriel concentrated on pulling the espresso for your drink. He automatically put it in a to-go cup and bagged up your muffin, meeting you at the counter with both.

“What's the damage today,” you asked as you fished around in your purse for your wallet.

Gabriel cleared his throat before answering, “It's on the house.”

“What,” you looked up, confused.

“Well, I was hoping you'd go with me to a concert next weekend and I was hoping free coffee and pastry might tip the odds in my favor,” Gabriel explained quickly, suddenly looking very self conscious. A very odd look on a man that was very aware of how good looking he was.

You knew you looked like a deer in the headlights standing there for a few seconds before your brain would let you form sentences again. You also knew from the heat coming off your face that it was beet red, not a great look.

“Wow,umm, thank you, for both the food and the invite. Umm, the thing is, I'm not sure I'm quite ready to start dating again,” you hoped you were letting him down gently.

“I completely understand, but the answer is always no if you never even ask, you know? Well, the food is still on the house and if you change your mind anytime soon, I'd love to go out with you,” Gabriel responded, pushing your drink and muffin toward you, “I hope you have a great weekend.”

“You too, Gabriel. I'll see you next week,” you replied, heading toward the door.

Heather, your best girlfriend, was never going to believe this! Your call went straight to voicemail (the nerve!), so you sent a quick text to call when she could because you had news and then continued the short drive home.

The rest of your morning and early afternoon was a blur of some necessary cleaning, laundry, research for your tours, and entertainment scrolling on your phone. About fifteen minutes before the girls’ bus dropped them off, your phone rang. The display showed Heather flipping you off, a picture that always made you laugh, even in the depths of grief. You swiped up and brought the phone to your ear.

“Tell me those boys next door finally made a move,” Heather exclaimed by way of hello, “and don't roll your eyes at me. They're in love with you, I know it.”

“Anyway,” you started a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, “You remember Gabriel, the barista at Common Grounds?”

“Romance novel boy? Yeah, what about him,” Heather responded, rapid fire.

You took a deep breath before continuing, “He asked me out!”

“Excuse me, what? Did you sell your soul or something to get all these men chasing you,” Heather commented.

There was a lull in the conversation as both your minds automatically turned to what you would have sold your soul for.

Heather sounded much more subdued when she spoke again, “I'm sorry, babe. I didn't….”

You took pity on her, “I know, babe. It's not a big deal. I still miss him so much. I still pick up the phone to call him at least once a day. Hell, I'm still paying his phone bill, so I can call and hear his voice on voicemail. How can I start dating when I'm still hung up on Mike?”

Heather sighed and was quiet for a moment before quietly saying, “You're not hung up on him. You loved him with your whole heart and he was part of the foundation of your whole life. That's not something that you just turn off. He's always going to be a part of your life. You'll see him in the girls forever, but he wouldn't want you to push everyone away and do life alone. He'd want you to be happy and have a partner…..or partners.”

“Heather!”

Your yell was loud even to your ears, but she needed to get that crazy idea out of her head, especially because it kept making awkward thoughts pop up in your head.

“Listen, the girls are going to be home in a few minutes and then I'll be neck deep in homework and evening chaos. We're having a cookout for the squad tomorrow night. Do you want to come,” you offered since you haven't seen her in a while and wanted her to know you weren't mad.

“Actually, Dean is in town from the road tomorrow, so hopefully, I'll be busy,” she replied with a giggle,”but can we have lunch one day next week? I miss you.”

“It's a date. We'll figure out where and when Monday and in the meantime, make good choices or take pictures. I love you,” you waited for her confirmation before hanging up.

As if on cue, the girls came bursting through the front door and all thoughts of men, dates, and the future of your love life were put on hold while you switched into mom mode.

“Any big news,” you questioned all three while they ate the snack you made for them. Being a stay at home mom had always been your dream after struggling as a working mom with Elizabeth and Jack. Mike had known how important it was to you and had moved heaven and earth to make it possible. ‘He still is,’ you thought as you observed how much all of the girls looked like him in their own way. Lily was the spitting image of him in every way. Harper looked like you, but had so much of his personality and attitude that she'd say something and all you could see was Mike. Charlotte was the wild card. She didn't look like either of you really, but had such a good mix of both your personalities that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began.

“We have a field trip to the aquarium coming up,” Charlotte announced through a mouth full of food.

Lily looked at her, appalled, “I got an A on my science project.”

Harper was unusually quiet, but she had always been a daddy's girl and had had the hardest time adjusting to life without Mike.

“Everything okay, punk,” you asked gently, crouching down in front of her.

She shook her head, but didn't offer more.

“Is it about Daddy,” you guessed tentatively.

She nodded a split second before she threw her arms around you and started crying, “I just miss him so much, Mama, and everything at school reminds me of him. I hate it. It hurts so much!”

You felt your own eyes well, but you tamped it down, knowing it would just make her cry harder. You squeezed her tight and rubbed her back for a minute then gently pulled back.

“Baby girl, you loved your daddy so much and that didn't just end when he was gone, so sometimes, when those feeling build up, the only place they have to go is down your face as tears. There's nothing wrong with that, but you know as well as I do that your daddy wouldn't want you sitting around being sad about him not being here. He'd hp want you to go out and have a ton of fun and then come home at night and tell him all about it because you know, if you talk to him at night, he hears you,” you explained carefully.

“Really?”

You smiled warmly at her, “Really and I know he loves hearing about what you're doing, so what do you say we finish snack and homework and then we can start getting the food and fire pit ready for tomorrow?”

That suggestion was met with effusive nods all around and both snack and homework were done in short order. You let the older two go stack wood in the fire pit while Charlotte helped you shuck corn and make coleslaw. You were having a barbecue with crock pot pulled pork, coleslaw, and grilled corn. The rest of the crew would bring various other dishes, so that you didn't have to do everything and, of course, there would be an adequate amount of alcohol.

Before you knew it, it was time to start working on tonight's dinner, since you had company coming over. Well, the boys, but you supposed they technically still counted as company. You were just shoving a lasagna into the oven when they walked through the door. The dogs, of course, lost their minds until you forced all of them into the backyard. There was a moment of quiet, but before you could even say hi, the girls descended and they all fell into a pile on the floor.

You took the moment to just watch them. They were so good with the girls. Treating them like they were their own, which the girls would be if anything ever happened to you, but no one outside this room knew that. Both Jake and Bradley had changed out of their uniforms into civilian clothes and they looked just as good, if not better, than they had this morning. Jake was wearing a dark green Henley, just tight enough jeans, and work boots. Bradley was wearing a matching burgundy shirt and similar jeans and boots. You'd be lying if you said you weren't checking their asses out while they were rolling on the floor with the kids. You were only human after all.

Grabbing Charlotte by her ankles, you hauled her up and started “eating” her stomach. The giggles were music to your ears. Setting her down, you pulled the other two out of the pile and sent them to have some chill time before dinner.

Jake started gathering things for a salad from the fridge and Bradley pulled out the garlic bread they brought and opened the wine. He preheated the oven to warm up the bread and turned to you while he waited for it to finish.

“That was a hell of a speech you gave this morning,” he commented, seeming to tread lightly.

You chuckled lightly, “Yeah, I might have gone a little overboard, but it's a good program and everyone just needs to get onboard and they'll see.”

“I hope you're right,” Bradley said off hand.

Jake saw the look you shot Bradley and stepped in before things got ugly.

“So, how was the rest of your morning, darlin,” he threw out quickly.

“Oh,” you started and then laughed lightly, “y'all won't believe this. I stopped to get coffee after my meeting this morning and Gabriel, you know, the barista at Common Grounds asked me out. How crazy is that?”

Jake saw Bradley's head snap up and knew things weren't going to go well.

“What,” Bradley's voice had a tone that seemed off.

“Yeah, I mean I turned him down. I'm not ready to date yet, but it was nice to be asked,” the more you spoke the guiltier you felt.

“I mean, of course, you told him no,” Bradley said with a certainty that rubbed you the wrong way.

You tried not to sound annoyed, but you knew you did, “What do you mean ‘of course’? I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to date whenever I feel ready.”

Bradley didn't seem to sense the danger he was in, but Jake sure did and he tried to give his partner the high sign to no avail.

“I mean, it's only been six months. If you started dating now it might send the wrong message. My mom didn't start dating until two years after my dad died and even then it was only occasionally and never amounted to anything,” Bradley spouted with superiority.

Jake saw what was coming, but was helpless to stop it. It was liking watching a car wreck in show motion.

You drew yourself up to your full, albeit unimpressive height, and said, “How dare you? You've never lost a partner you loved more than life itself. You've never lied in bed and wondered if it was possible to die of a broken heart and if it was, would your daughters find your body in the morning. So, if I decide that maybe I'm ready to get back out into the dating world, who are you, Bradley Bradshaw, to make me feel guilty about it. Screw you.”

You stomped off to tell the girls that dinner was ready then pulled the lasagna out of the oven and got the salad and dressings on the table ignoring the boys the entire time. Jake had done nothing wrong, but they were a pair and you'd be damned if you gave Bradley the satisfaction of acknowledging him without an apology.

Dinner was a quiet affair, but fortunately, the girls didn't seem to notice. Everything was cleared up in near silence. Then everything was done and there was nothing else to hide behind. All three of you stood there staring at your feet. The silence war becoming oppressive.

“Listen, umm, I'm sorry,”Bradley fumbled.

You scoffed, “Don't. Just don't. You made your stance abundantly clear. I thought I had you in my corner, supporting me through all the shit I have to deal with, but apparently it comes with stipulations, so just don't. I'm sure y'all can see yourselves out.”

You walked out, stopping to drop a kiss on Jake's cheek and a hug around his shoulders before heading down the hall to your room still slightly shaking with anger.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Jake pounced, “What the fuck was that?!?!?”

Bradley just shrugged knowing that he had royally fucked up, “I'm sorry. Just the thought of her with someone else was more than I could take. I panicked."

“Well congratulations, dumbass, you all but pushed her in that direction,” Jake hissed back, shooting a glance down the hall to make sure you weren't coming back, “now you need to figure out how to fix it. Come on, let's get out of here, so she can come out of her room. We'll come back in the morning and you'll fix it.”

You waited until you heard the back door close before coming out of your room to stand in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.

Tag List:

@seitmai

[legolasghosty]

"There's a cactus in my car..." is giving me Willex vibes for sure.

Hehehe okay here you are! With... pretty darn close to the original context.

It was in the fridge first. Alex opened it one morning to get out the milk and there it was, on the top shelf, wearing that sleepy smile he's now become quite familiar with. He'd just stood there for at least a minute, shivering in his pajamas in front of the open fridge as he stared at it. Willie had entered the room a moment later and busted up laughing.

Apparently it had been a gag gift from some friend of theirs. Willie claimed it, "Added enrichment to their enclosure." Alex wasn't totally sure about that. But he chuckled anyway and went on with his day.

The next time, it was in the medicine cabinet in their bathroom. Alex, still half asleep, went to grab his toothbrush and found the mirror already partially ajar, held out an inch from the frame by the soft, creamy white 'pot'. He'd laughed that time, less confused by its existence. He'd taken a picture and sent it to Willie, who'd left early for work, claiming it must have borrowed their toothbrush.

When he found it in the microwave a few days later, he decided it was time to get revenge. He re-hid it under one of Willie's hoodies and went about his day. It became a Thing after that. One would hide it, the other would find it somewhere in their home and move it. It became a part of their routine, like going grocery shopping on Tuesdays and sleeping in together on Fridays. One more part of their daily existences twined together in a way that made Alex's chest feel all floaty.

----------

Alex stares into the back of the van. He really shouldn't be as surprised as he is. Willie has found all sorts of insane places to put it, from tucked into their bed to hanging by its fluffy little feet from a light fixture. And yet, the thought that Willie would have figured out a way to make it follow him to the band's out of town gig in San Fransisco never crossed his mind.

"Hey Alex, something wrong with the gear?" Luke asks, coming around the side, already nearly vibrating out of his skin with energy.

Alex shakes his head quickly. "Nope," he answers, voice pitched a bit higher than he intended.

"Then let's get stuff unloaded," Luke decides, moving past him to reach for his beloved guitar case. Then he freezes, apparently spying their little stowaway. "Uh. What is that?"

Alex shrugs helplessly, then bursts into giggles. He can't help it. The whole thing is just too random and so deeply Willie. They'd gotten all of their gear into the van the day before, so Willie must have snuck it in sometime between dinner last night and when they left LA early this morning.

"What are we staring at?" Julie mumbles as she joins them behind the van, stifling a yawn.

Luke points to it silently. Alex pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of it, nestled just right between his kick and the cymbals.

"What even is that?" Julie questions, rubbing at her eyes. Alex sometimes envies her the ability to sleep in moving vehicles.

"It's Willie's," Alex explains. "Long story." He leans forward and collects the little plush. "Don't worry about it."

Reggie comes back just then with one of the venue people right behind him. "Good news, we can unload right here," he announces, before catching sight of Alex's little friend. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Awesome, thanks Reg," Alex says quickly, avoiding the question. He ducks back into the front seat and sets the visitor down beside his duffle bag.

He can hear his friends laughing behind him, but he ignores it in favor of pulling his phone out.

Alex - There's a cactus in my car.Willie <3 - Wow, weird! You really gotta clean that thing out more often if things are growing in it...Alex - Yep, got some prickers in my hands getting it out.Willie <3 - Youch! Be careful up there in the wild north!Alex - Will do. Love you <3And thanks <3Willie <3 - Love you too, have a good show!

Alex sends back a cactus emoji and the photo he'd taken of the stuffed potted plant in the trunk, then rejoins his band with a smile and a little more energy in his step. Leave it to Willie to make him feel cared for with a stuffed plant in the back of a van. He wouldn't have it any other way.

(The cactus in question)

[moodymisty]

Hi!! It's the annon with the Guilliman ask from last night. So happy that you liked it!!💜💜 So I decided to write it fo you!

Hope you like it, this is the first time in 10+ years I have written anything fanfic like and even before I was not really a smut person. But I wanted to do something to show how much I appreaciate you doing these request! :)

And sorry to hear you're overwhelmed, please take your time, schedule some breaks. I'm sure people will be patient! 💜

You’re constantly awed by this man.

Part of you thinks it’s only natural. He is, after all, the son of the Emperor, made to be perfect by his design. Still the burden he carries is to be considered to be massive even for a demigod like him.

During the time you’ve been assigned to be by his side, you’ve never seen him crumble or break by the weight of his task. Exaspherated, yes, but never wavering in carrying on with his duty.

It’s hard not to admire his steadfasness and resilience.

You have been tasked with assisting him with his never ending paperwork, a job you take great pride in, being chosen from countless volunteers, make you swell with pride at being deemed worthy, at being able to assist with part of his burden. The two of you have slowly developed a routine and managed to create an efficient rythm to work in. Which comes in handy on days like this, where the missives seem to be never ending and even a godly being like Guilliman, seems to be exhausted even. You’ve come to be able to read him slightly during the time spent together to notice the tiredness in his voice, the slightly building frustration of his, the subtly signs of annoyance on his countenance.

Oh, how you wish to console him, part of you justifying the urge, the yearning, by the time spent together. It’s only natural to care for him after being confined day to day in his office mostly being his only company in between visitors. You’ve been even been permitted by him to take a more casual manner of speaking with him, that you’ve finally started to become more comfortable with.

You barely dare to entertain it, but you’ve been noticed him more and more warming up to you, on occasion cathing him stealing glances at you, that in your more daring moments even consider to be whistful even.

You’re so in your thoughts, that you’re not hearing a word he says, just humming while his exhausted baritone washes over you, then in the next instant the words come stumbling from your mouth.

’Exceptional reasoning as always Roboute’

You catch yourself too late, face turning a bright shade of crimson and scrambling to think of an excuse to fill the now silent room. You glance at Guilliman now looking at you with a suprised look on his face.

Then a sudden movement and the world is turning with you and now you find yourself in front of him, on his desk, his arms circling you from both sides.

’Repeat it’ He orders you, while his hands proceed to lift up your dress and his hands start to make thir way between your legs. Heat washes over your full body and you lack the wits to do anything more than to obey the command. Your reward comes in his dexterous fingers quickly removing your undergarment and then him slowly kissing his way up to your thighs. You gasp by the sensation only for him to lift his head up from between your spread legs and give you an expectant look.

You whine in your expentant daze to which he gives you another command. ’Don’t stop’. Regaining your wits for a moment you proceed with starting tol et out all the secret praises you’ve been keeping to yourself for the past months. Your reward not being far behind his mouth resumes his work on your fold, tongue not leaving anything unexplored.

Time seems to stop for you, lost in throves of pleasure only having the wherewithal to continue singing all the praises you can think of, falling short a couple of time, where your punisment comes switly in those damn talented mouth stopping his ministartions on your soaking wet pussy only to return when you regain your presence of mind to continue. The orgams he brings out of you is nothing you’ve ever felt and you feel him eagerly lapping up your cum and cleaning your sensitive sex after your high.

You feel exhausted, about to pass out from the intensity of it. You lock gazes and after what seems to be an eternity you break the silence with a ’Good boy’. To the suprise of his sons Guilliman declares a day off for himself and a day later they are notified of you taking a week of due to exhaustion.

YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS-