#your daughter years ago told you you were allowed to be your own person

[pgranateseeds]

I know a lot of people want it, but I don't think we'll ever get a conversation between Sandra Lynn and any of the bad kids about what Bobby Dawn did to her.

A. It's just unnecessary. We already know the gist, we can already see the ramifications of that action, and a conversation would just be retreading already discovered ground

B. Sandra's relationship with Fig is nearly always in turmoil. Ever since seeing her offer a shoulder to Adaine when she drank heavily when it was her, Fig has been avoiding Sandra when she could. She said in the fight when Baxter arrived, "I'm not trying to see my mom right now," and they didn't talk At All when she took them to the temple ruins. If Sandra Lynn was going to talk to anyone about Bobby, it would be to Fig just bc of closeness, and that's just not happening, at least not for a while. Also i see people define Bobby's short and disastrous relationship with Sandra as sexual grooming, and i find it hard to believe that if she was groomed, she'd tell her daughter, especially not to then say "Fig You Were Groomed Too" or "Fig, Don't Trust Random Men." I think people put way too much emphasis on Fig's bits where she kissed adults in earlier seasons and said "would i know if i had sex? What if I've accidentally had sex?", like those were just jokes, the latter being a joke abt how Fig didnt understand what sex was as a 14 year old, and i don't believe it would be fun for the table if those jokes were treated with the solumn seriousness of fig then being a grooming victim. Also Fig already distrusts men, she was right about Porter and she was stalking Ruben and literally every man outside of her family that she's come in contact with, she's either bullied or investigated, she doesn't need to be told a tale about how men ain't shit

C. Bobby is just much less of an antagonistic player in this conflict than previously expected. Yeah he was involved with The Big Bad, but after the reveal, a majority of the focus shifted onto Porter, Jace, and the Rat Grinders. I don't see the next two episodes having a moment where they sit down and talk about Bobby in depth, beyond "he was/is an asshole"

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch 26]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

Depression is a funny little emotion.

It starts as a seed planted in your stomach by some inconsequential action that slowly grows throughout the day until it is strangling you. Tendrils sprout and creep up your sternum, creeping through your airway and constricting your lungs, making it just a little harder to breathe. Your chest feels tight and no amount of closing your eyes and counting slowly will make the feeling go away. The vines go for your heart next - weaving between the arteries and veins and squeezing until you are hyper aware of every beat it makes. 

You know you cannot let anyone know what germinates inside of you, so for hours and hours and hours do you pretend you can function properly. You ignore how heavy your heart feels or how much your throat stings. You turn off the urge to cry and scream and beg because you know there is no point to it. There is no relief. No amount of comfort will free you from the jungle forming inside of you. All you can do is wait.

Wait until you are finally alone, and the growth is finally allowed to bloom in your brain. Thorns pierce you, pumping their poison into your thoughts. Sap leaks from your eyes as stems force their way up your throat until leaves sprout from your mouth. You are consumed from the inside out until you are a hollow husk of a person.

And who would want to be around that?

Who would want you?

No one is the answer.

 It has always been no one. 

Your parents were the first to show you the truth. There was no care or comfort in your childhood - you were set aside and ignored.

You’ve never blamed them for this. As much as it hurt and as much as it messed with your self-worth, you’ve always understood they were not meant to be parents. You are sure they loved you in their own way, but the lack of affection left your soul to wilt.

College was no better. You made a few friends but quickly learned the meaning of superficial. They did not have time for your awkwardness and personal issues - this was their time to grow and blossom. So, you buried yourself in your studies and were always grateful when they were kind enough to invite you somewhere. 

When you started having romantic relationships they warped your mind even more. A few sweet words would lure you in, then you would become a caretaker and a warm body. Their needs were always top priority and yours were never to be acknowledged. You were strung along to a breaking point or told you were no longer needed, even when you were still heart eyed over them.

A few rounds of this showed you your niche in the world. 

You’re a background character. A friend of a friend’s girlfriend. A one-night stand. Minnie’s mom. 

You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You are meant to assist others - meant to raise your daughter to her full potential. 

You’ve long accepted this, which makes it all that much harder when Matt smiles at you like he does. 

You believe he cares for you - he is full of love - but you know there isn’t anything deeper in it. 

You are the mother of his child, a child he is head over heels for - it is natural for him to grow affectionate towards you. He finds you physically and sexually attractive and you yearn for that.

But you know you are nothing but a placeholder.

You have his attention now and you want to bask in it, but next week, next year, or maybe in two years, that attention will move onto someone who deserves it. Someone who is exciting as he is - someone who is smart and passionate. Someone who understands his life and what being Daredevil entails. Someone who cares about the injustices on the streets and does something about it.

Someone who isn’t broken. 

Someone who isn’t a shell going through the motions. 

Someone who isn’t you.

You want to cover your ears and pretend you don’t know the truth. You want to bury yourself in the three little words you thought you heard, but you know you can’t. 

You can’t do that to yourself again. You can’t handle another heartbreak. Another disappointment.

Another reminder you are Nothing. 

You can allow yourself to enjoy your time - enjoy the touches and kisses and moans - but your heart must remain locked away. 

Matt can have all of you but that. If you allow yourself to have hope it will hurt all the more when you have to let him go. 

And you’ll let him go easily when that time comes. You’ll step aside without a fight because his relationship with Minnie is more important than you will ever be, and you are not going to be the reason for a rift between them. You are not going to deny Matt time with his daughter because his destiny is with someone else. 

It will hurt, but it has never mattered if you hurt.

You just want them to be happy.

----

The progress bar on your screen is finally full and you now have the option to select ‘continue with install’. You click on the button, then warily eye your laptop as new windows pop up with technical information you do not care about. 

Work is pushing a bunch of new updates through their system, and because you are remote, you have to play IT to get your machine up to spec. They sent you an email with everything you need to do, which is to sit back and click a few prompts, but they failed to mention the process would take hours and that your laptop would be useless during that time. 

It is nearing two in the morning, and you are starting to run out of steam and patience. 

Between installs and reboots, you have cleaned pretty much everything in your apartment that you could without risking waking Minnie up. You did dishes and dusted. You cleaned out the pantry and washed the windows. You even swept the carpet to get out any lingering dog hair.

You’ve tried to sit and watch something, but it left you fidgety and you couldn’t pay attention to what was being said and you had no chance in hell of following a plot. You attempted to play around on your phone, but you became angry at yourself for not having the funds to buy things that were advertised to you. After Minnie’s birthday and your hospital bill, your bank account was getting dangerously low.

You want to turn off your brain and do your job. You don’t have to Think when combing through orders and producing invoices. 

You don’t want to Think anymore. You are so tired of Thinking. 

You slump into your chair and bury your face into your hands. You’ve got no way to calculate how much longer all this technical setup is going to take or how much longer you are going to have to stay up. The only relief you have is knowing you are being paid for this time, since the email specifically told you to be on the clock while running everything. 

You debate going over to the couch and trying to nap. You could set an alarm so you can periodically check on your computer, but you might disturb your sleeping toddler. The alert could be set to vibrate only, but would that wake you up if you really fell asleep?

Your only solution is to stay awake and try to find something to do to distract yourself. 

As you start to consider deep cleaning the linen closet, your phone lights up with a call from an unsaved number. It takes but a moment for you to recognize the sequence and your heart leaps into your throat as you answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re up late,” Matt teases as a greeting, his voice a few octaves lower than normal and sending a delightful sort of chill up your spine. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” you groan in response, but the mere fact he is calling has your lips turning up into a small smile. “My computer is doing updates and I’m waiting for it to finish. It’s been going for hours.”

Matt hums in sympathy and you wonder if he is just getting home. The fact he is a superhero is still very hard for your mind to wrap around. Sweet Matt, who lets his daughter put star stickers all over his face, is the same man who so routinely breaks people’s arms that local ER staff have a monthly betting pool about it - a little fact you learned from Karen. The man in videos dangling someone off a high rise or a bridge is the same man who becomes a clingy octopus when asleep. 

You understand his need to protect the city and you admire it, but fear and uncertainty gather in your belly when you think about Matt out on the rooftops. You are terrified of him getting hurt, despite the fact you trust him and his abilities. You know there is always a bigger threat out there as well as the possibility of an accident. Matt may be amazing, but he can’t fight a random act of God.

Three light knocks from behind you rip your thoughts and you turn in your chair to see Daredevil, in all his red suit glory, standing on your fire escape. He cheekily waves at you as he snaps his flip phone shut and stores it in a hidden pocket. You scramble up and over to the window, yanking it open. He waits patiently, though a bit smugly by the smirk on his lips, as you figure out how to remove the screen. He climbs through with ease and once he is inside, he starts removing his gloves and helmet.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you close the window again. You aren’t opposed to him coming by, but this is the first time he’s done so, and you aren’t exactly sure of the protocol. Is it a social visit? Does he have some Daredevil news to share with you?

Before he replies, he shakes his head much like a wet dog would. His hair is damp with sweat and the skin that was previously covered is glistening. There is a slight tint of red to his usual paleness and you wonder if he is hot to the touch as well. You try not to squirm at the thought.

“I always check on you before ending patrol,” he finally says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He sets his helmet, gloves, and batons on the window-blocking table, then steps to you, reaching up to cup your cheeks when close enough. “I need to make sure my girls are okay.” 

The words come out of him so easily and you want to melt into them like you do with his touch, but your mind is quick to remind you that you’ve given him reason to have to check up on you. This isn’t him being sweet - it is him making sure you haven’t somehow managed to kill yourself. 

Before you can mentally chastise yourself and pull away, Matt is closing the distance. He brings you into a sweet and slow kiss and for a few wonderful moments, your mind goes quiet. His lips are so soft against yours and you can just barely taste the salt from the sweat that has dripped down his face. It ends far too soon, and you try to tell yourself you are not disappointed.

Your thoughts kick back into hyper drive, and as you notice how damp Matt’s hair really is you imagine he would appreciate some cold water. You gently pull away from him, turning as you do to head towards the kitchen. 

“Did anything interesting happen tonight?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he answers as he moves to follow you. “There was a kid breaking into cars that stuck out, though. He should probably be on his school’s track team if he isn’t already - he made me work to be able to catch him. It was actually a little impressive.”

That would explain the sweat then. It is already warm out and racing through the streets in leather sounds exhausting. It makes you want to shower just hearing about it.

You find Matt’s designated cup and fill it using the pitcher in the fridge. As you pass it over to him, you question, “what did you do once you caught him?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking the water and downing it all in just a few gulps. Since it is clear he is in need of it, you quickly refill the glass.

“I gave him a warning and let him go,” Matt says after taking another sip, “He seemed like a good kid just getting into the wrong things. I think being chased by the Devil will scare him off crime, at least for a while.”

That warms your heart a little - you like Matt’s sense of justice and how he does not have a hard stance on what is black and white. He truly wants to help the community and not rule it. 

You have to turn away as he drinks his second glass of water. You want those brief moments of mental silence back and watching his throat work only makes you want to kiss him again. You think he wouldn’t mind it if you threw yourself at him, but it isn’t the time or place, and honestly you are a bit scared of the idea that has that kind of effect on you. 

It is something to crave and ask for and get addicted to. If he can turn off your brain so easily, all you will want to do is touch him.

Ever on high alert, you see Matt roll his neck and shoulders as he goes to put his glass into the sink. The movements look a little stiff and anxiety takes hold as you hyper analyze every movement he makes, “Are you alright?”

He pauses at the question, clearly confused by it. He tilts his head back and forth in minute ways like he does when he’s searching for something before answering you. 

“Why do you ask?”

You feel yourself start to flush at the counter, feeling a little silly. If there was anything actually wrong with him, he has a competent nurse on call, but you can’t stop your worry. It courses through you like your blood and you know it will fester and nag if you have any doubt. But you are still hesitant as you vaguely motion to your own neck, “I don’t know, you were out all night. I just…I want to make sure you’re, okay?”

You know that Matt is analyzing you, listening for something you’ll never hear. His lips dip into a frown for a microsecond before lifting up into that soft, beautiful smile you are becoming so fond of. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little stiff is all. It’s hard to have good posture when crouching on a rooftop.”

You take in the words, and you can easily picture Matt on the edge of a building, sitting like a gargoyle. It does ease your own tension that he isn’t injured, but your head just keeps spinning. 

Matt came all the way into Chelsea to check on you, the least you could do is make it worth his while. Offering yourself up for sex doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment, but you have more up your sleeve than just that.

The words tumble out of you before the idea is fully formed, “Do you want a massage?”

The shock on Matt’s face is nearly priceless. His brows shoot up his forehead and his mouth parts just slightly and a small voice in the back of your head wonders if anyone has ever offered him one before. You know his upbringing was as barren as yours, but given he is a fighter, you would have guessed someone would have given him one. 

Finally, he nods, his smile starting to come back, “That sounds amazing. If it’s okay with you - I know it’s getting late.”

“I’ll be up anyways,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to think it is any inconvenience to you. “And it sounds more enjoyable than more cleaning.”

“Okay.” His boyish grin gets even bigger, and your stomach does a funny twist. “Where do you want me?”

You direct him to sit in front of the couch, on the ground, and as he removes the top half of his armor, you go to fetch wet wipes and lotion. You do not want to be rubbing Matt’s sweat all over his back - you are going to be trying to help him relax and that is a little bit disgusting. 

As you come back to the living room, you have to remind yourself you aren’t supposed to throw yourself at him. It is not fair how good he looks shirtless - he’s well defined and muscular, but not so overly buff it is gross. It’s clear his muscles are for athletics and not to show off how cool he is. His scars only emphasize that. You have no idea how he got them all, but you very much want to lay him down and run your tongue over each and every one. 

Your view changes as Matt plops himself down in front of the couch, seemingly unaware of your various mental crises. You tell yourself to Behave before your feet start moving again. When you get to the couch, you maneuver yourself to be behind Matt and have to bat away all your thoughts again at the sight of his shoulders.  

You force yourself to focus on the task in front of you. As you grab the wet wipe to start cleaning off Matt’s back, you advise him, “Let me know if I go too hard or if anything starts to hurt, okay?”

Beneath your hands, he huffs, “Darling, I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt me. If anything, the harder, the better.”

Your face heats up a little at his words. You remember he said something similar when over you on the couch just a few nights ago. He likes things a little rough. 

Once his shoulders are mostly sweat free, you get to work. 

You start with smoothing your hands down his neck, then fanning out to the edge of his shoulders and back. You aren’t exactly an expert at this, but long ago in college, one ex liked to play video games while you rubbed his shoulders and you had done your fair share of research to make sure you were doing it right. You still remember most of the tips. 

You add some of Minnie’s scent free baby lotion to your hands, then dig your thumbs into Matt’s neck. The muscles are tight and as you begin to push and pull at them, a deep, pleased groan comes from the man under you.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You can’t help but smile at the praise and it only encourages you to make sure the entire experience is enjoyable. 

It is surprisingly easy for you to get completely lost in the massage. You focus in on one area and mentally picture different little arrows telling you to rub up this way or swirl your thumbs in a certain motion. Matt’s shoulders quickly become a grid for you to complete and not a laborious task of trying to bond. 

Under your unskilled fingers, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen melts. Whenever you find a knot - and there are many - he grunts and sighs and you can tell he is starting to relax. The tension in his shoulders fade and you actually get to see the moment his jaw unclenches. He opens his mouth and scrunches his nose, making the apples of his cheeks plump up. You peek at the television to catch his reflection and your heart warms at the pleased look on his face.

You wonder if it would be possible to get him to fall asleep like this and decide that is a challenge for another day. Right now, you want to pamper him. 

You slowly work your fingers back up towards his neck, then decide to take a chance based on what you know he likes. 

As you reach his hairline, you tilt your fingers forward so your nails are against his skin, then begin to slowly scritch at his scalp like he’s an overgrown cat. 

The results are instantaneous. Matt pushes his head into the touch, a low guttural moan coming up from his throat. 

It is Filthy. It goes right to your core, making you clench around nothing, and you can’t stop yourself from asking in a soft, teasing voice, “Feel good?”

He hums in an affirmative, tilting his head back far enough that he needs to lean against the couch for support. You keep your fingers where they are, as it's clear he is trying to direct you to where it feels the best - the top of his head. You scritch there, smiling as you fluff up his hair even more. 

Matt looks absolutely blissed out - his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and you are pretty sure if you keep at this, he might just turn into Jello. 

Which is exactly what you want. 

He works so hard for everyone, running himself into the ground to bring justice to Hell’s Kitchen, and you think he needs some time to just relax. 

So, you begin to plan.

As you gently drag your nails through Matt’s hair, you let your mind begin to think up ideas for a nice family spa day while your laptop and dark thoughts sit on the dining room table, forgotten about.

---

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[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥

(request) Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Reader Kimi only allowed one person to truly know him. You.

Warnings: a bit of cussing, poorly google translated Finnish, and extremely brief research of cities in Finland. Briefly edited.

Kimi famously never allowed his emotions to be on open display for the people around him. He never let people see behind his frosty facade. He never let people get close enough for them to figure him out. He always kept everyone at a distance so there was no possible way for anyone to truly know the type of man he was. Excluding his parents, there was only one exception to all of it.  

You. 

Kimi never intended to bump into anyone on his break between seasons. He had chosen Pori specifically because he knew that no one he worked with knew enough about Finland to know where Pori was. None of his colleagues knew that Pori was roughly a 3 hour drive north west of his home town. With a population of 83 thousand compared to Espoo’s 310 thousand, it wasn’t an extremely well known place. 

Kimi supposed he shouldn’t’ve been so surprised when he bumped into you, causing your coffee to spill everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He never would’ve expected to literally bump into someone he worked with. 

“Katsu se!” You exclaimed. Too busy trying to wipe off the spilt coffee before it could stain your coat too badly. [Watch it!]

“L/n?” 

Of course you knew who it was, how could you not? It wasn’t like you spent a majority of the year around him, battling it out every weekend for top spot on the podium. 

“What Räikkönen? Didn’t expect to see me over break?” You finally looked up and made eye contact with the Finn. 

“Why are you in Finland?” 

“Am I not allowed to go home during winter break?” This had stunned Kimi more than bumping into you. 

“Home?” 

Your annoyance had disappeared a while ago, the whole situation was too amusing for you to be truly annoyed. “Räikkönen, just because I race under a different flag doesn’t mean I’m not associated with another country. I was born in Pori, spent 14 years here before moving overseas.” 

After that the rest was history. You ended up spending more and more of your winter break around Kimi. So much time that the Finn found himself opening up more and more around you. At first he had been the same cold, closed off Kimi that you were used to, but soon enough his metaphorical ice walls began to melt around you. He learnt that your mother had been born in Finland and had met your father while on holiday. You told him that your father had moved to Finland to be with your mother and that you always spent winter break in Pori. You travelled so much for the rest of the year you found there was no point travelling between seasons. 

Throughout your time together, Kimi found himself telling you things he had only ever told his parents. He told you how he had wanted to eventually settle down and start a family. He told you that he truly did believe that Formula 1 was a hobby, that it wasn’t just something he said for the cameras. He told you that sometimes, in the privacy of his own home, he often thought about his imaginary daughters running around and filling his house with giggles and bright smiles. 

Eventually, the winter break would come to an end, and you would both have to go back to the rush of racing every weekend. About a week before preseason testing, you had been hanging out with Kimi in your living room. Talking about everything you had done so far in your careers. Kimi had smiled when you started to laugh at the story he had just finished telling. 

Watching you laugh at something he said had him feeling almost giddy with nerves. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he spoke up softly. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes Kimi?” You responded, trying your best to calm down from laughing.

“Let me take you on a date.” 

“Kimi- what?” 

“I want to take you on a date. These last months have let me understand that everything I want in life, I want them to be with you.” He said. Taking your hand in his, he spoke with a sincerity you had never seen or heard in a man before. “Let me take you on a date and show you.” 

Your free hand had covered your mouth as he spoke. A month ago, when you realised what your own feelings for him were, you had become determined to never mention them. There was no way The Iceman of all people would feel the same about you. Yet here he was. Sitting on your couch and asking you to go on a date with him. 

“Yes.” 

Kimi gave you a smile that had become less and less rare the more you spent time with him. 

“Thank you.” 

It had been three years since then. In that time you had gone on dates in every country you had travelled to. You both celebrated every win and comforted every loss. Two years into dating, Kimi had asked you to move in and marry him and during the mid-year break, surrounded by both your immediate families, you had become Y/n Räikkönen. Kimi hadn’t cared about telling the other drivers or the media, and you had agreed saying that it would be far funnier if they found out on their own. So nothing had changed in your public routines. In your head you thought the funniest part of it all would be that no one on the grid knew you had even started dating each other. 

Neither of you had gone out of your way to avoid the other, in fact the other drivers often saw you both hanging around each other. Nobody had any inkling that You and Kimi were together as more than friends. Many gossip sources chalked it up to the two “outcasts” of the grid hanging out and left it at that. So it was a surprise to everyone when some fans had pointed out on social media that your signature had changed from your race number and maiden name to Räikkönen. 

Jensen and Fernando, being constantly online, had dragged Sebastian to immediately start searching for the Finn. What they had found was more surprising than your change of signature. Opening the door to Kimi’s drivers room, the three of them saw you sitting on the couch with Kimi lounging on your lap, asleep. You had one hand running through his hair as he slept while the other was scrolling on your phone. Looking up as the door opened, you smiled when you saw who it was. 

“Hello boys. Anything I can help you with?” You asked. Fernando was too shocked to say anything and Jensen had just started stuttering out incoherent sounds, so it was up to Sebastian. 

“There are fans saying that your signature has changed.” 

You huffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb your husband from his rest. “That’s because it has.” 

“But why?” Jensen had managed to get his English under control enough to start actually speaking. 

“Why’d you think it would change Jense?” You were having too much fun with this. 

“But you have never shown any interest in Kimi. And Kimi doesn’t show interest in anything, so when?” It was Fernando’s turn to get over his shock. “How long have you been married? Why did we not know?” 

By now Kimi was definitely awake, though he made no show of it. You could feel Kimi’s hand that was resting between you and the couch back start to gently stroke your thigh. You knew he was also amused. 

“I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you who I was interested in. If I’d known I would’ve told you three years ago.” 

“Three years!?” The three of them cried. 

Eyes still closed, Kimi mumbled to you. “Käske heitä naimaan. Nukun.” [Tell them to fuck off. I’m sleeping.]

“Luulen, että olet levännyt tarpeeksi, rakkaani.” You replied laughing. All Kimi did was groan. [I think you’ve rested enough, my love.] 

“If you wake up properly, I’ll give you a kiss.” 

Opening his eyes, Kimi briefly glanced at the three flabbergasted men still in his driver's room, before looking directly at you. “Teet kovaa kauppaa, vaimo.” [You drive a hard bargain, wife.] 

He sat up nonetheless and moved so you could place your legs over his lap. He looked at the others and spoke. “What else did you want to blubber about?” 

 Kimi was aware that he had a resting bitch face, and most times he didn’t mean to glare at people, but the three men in front of you had clearly been terrified of what Kimi might do if they stayed, so they quickly made their way out of the room. 

“I told you they would find out from the fans.” You laughed. A smile broke out on Kimi’s face. 

“I really thought they were smart enough to figure it out themselves.” 

“Sebastian I could understand, but we’re talking about Jensen and Fernando here, my love. They were never going to figure it out on their own.” 

“That’s true.” Kimi shifted you closer to him, so that you were sitting on his lap facing him. “I believe I was promised a kiss, Wife.” 

“How could I ever deny you, Husband?” You whispered, leaning in close and gently placing your lips to his. His hand moved to the back of your neck to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. Both of you aware of the three drivers that had yet to move from the other side of Kimi’s door. 

It wasn’t your fault if they saw something they shouldn’t’ve.

Okay, time got away from me for a bit but here it is!

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[kurogxrix]

Fire Drill

Dad!Ao’nung x Sully!reader

IN WHICH yours and Ao’nung’s son is killed during Quaritch’s attack, but your family is here to help you pick up the pieces.

WC: 3.3k

warnings: ANGST, grief of a son and a brother, death, violence and gory injuries.

2 years. The little amount of time that you had been given before Quaritch and his team came to wreak havoc amongst your family once more. It seemed like your parents killing him once had not been enough, because his appearance made him look hungry for another death. Though you were all happy now, far away from the menace of his heavy ammo and the menacing gun that was slung upon his shoulder. 

The first few weeks of living within the Metkayina had been so hard for you and your family. Between Lo’ak and Kiri being treated far worse for having human features, and the hard time you and your mother were having with fitting in with their traditions. The Tsahik had not been any softer on you despite the mistreatment that your family already faced. She despised your family of ‘demons’ and probably your mother too because she was affiliated and had children with one. 

Your siblings and you had found comfort within the presence of the sweet Tsireya and Rotxo. Neteyam and yourself often found yourselves laughing quietly at your obviously in-love brother. Though you couldn’t make fun of him for too long, because you too had started developing something for the local Metkayina bully. 

Something about his arrogance just made him so annoying yet attractive. Maybe it was his confidence, or the way he would tease you unrelentingly. Nevertheless, you just couldn't let anyone know of your silly crush for now, because if it fell upon the ears of the future olo’eyktan, you knew that he’d never let you live it down. Weeks had passed and your interest towards the boy could only grow more and more as the days passed by.

Though now, only with the teasing remarks of your family. Neteyam was always known for the keen eye that your mother had passed down to him, and it didn’t take long for him to notice the longing stares that you would send the rude boy. Long story short, he told Lo’ak and your little brother and his humongous mouth just couldn’t keep shut. To say that your mother was disappointed in your choice of men was an understatement, but she had allowed herself to fall in love with the person that she had wanted, so why couldn’t you? 

Jake was…shocked to say the least. You had never audibly expressed your interest in any boy back at home, and here you were now. Though he knew that there was nothing that he could do to stop his 18 year old daughter from pursuing her heart's desires, because he had done so with Neytiri. 

Your sisters had a calmer approach about the subject, rather asking you about it during some private gossip session that you had with them. 

So after many months of hidden admiration spent, you still wondered how you had managed to end up under him in the middle of the forest behind their homes. Far from reach of everyone else, in the middle of the Metkayina mating grounds. His chests heaved up and down as he regained his breath, staring down at you with his stern lustful gaze. 

An accidental confession and two young adults on the run from prying eyes was all it took for the both of you to run off and bond before eywa, queues intertwined with the feeling of love running thick through both of your veins. You’d laugh at yourself months ago if you had told yourself that you even had a chance with Ao’nung, but here you were now, mated for the rest of your lives. 

The walk of shame felt rewarding in some way the next day, you had proved to Ronal and Tonowari that you feared them not, even if it meant being bonded to their son. Now you were all family, if they wanted it or not. Ao’nung and you had moved into your own private marui, and you were shoved into your mother’s loving embrace one last time as you packed your things and moved into your new home. Everything was perfect at first, a feast was soon established for the news of your mateship, and soon came another for the news of your bearing. 

A baby, conceived through the love that you both shared. The endless nights that you both spent hidden away from the rest of the world, tightly squeezed in each other’s embrace as you slept the night off. Many were unaccepting at first, a demon hybrid and their future olo’eyktan? How absurd. But soon everyone calmed down, and time passed faster than you would’ve liked it to. 

-

Fires spread throughout the whole village, heavy flames engulfing the beautiful village in its soaring arms. When you arrived back at shore, your heart was already void of all emotions. You felt as though it was bleeding, and the death of your brother felt like the knife that poked through the midst of it. You wanted it to burn with anger towards the sky people for taking your younger brother’s life, but you just couldn’t feel anything. 

The brother that you had watched being birthed, cleaned and placed wailing into your young arms had been violently taken before you. It was unfair, but he was in a better place now, away from the cruelty of this world. You couldn’t imagine how your parents felt, losing their first son before their very own eyes. How guilty your little brother must've felt for everything. Though you forced your sorrows away because you had a family of your own to attend to. 

Your son was still with his caretaker, and your mate probably had wounds that needed tending. Suddenly, the acrid scent of burning hit your nostrils, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. The fumes entered through your lungs like the much wanted air, and exited like the carbon that you would need to exhale. 

Your yellow eyes shone a warm amber colour as your eyes were strained amongst the fiery scene before you. The flames engulfed the stretching material of the maruis, spreading at an undying pace. You were frozen in your spot as you watched the fire turn your homes into remainders of what once was. Your mind raced as you imagined the worst of all scenarios. 

You flinched upon contact, elbowing hardly whoever had just grabbed you by the elbows. You turned around to meet their eyes, distress swirling in your very own. Ao’nung nearly fell back at your unwanted assault, huffing as you elbow left quite the fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Not the good kind of feeling. He looked at you before reaching for you once more, though you were unresponsive to his touch. 

Once the smell of burning reached his nose, his attention was completely retracted from your frozen form. He suddenly urged forwards, grabbing your hand harshly into his as he ran towards the maruis. He ran faster than he had ever done, because there was a nagging feeling of fear lodged deep inside his heart. 

You could feel your heart physically stop as you arrived in front of your shared marui, the stretchy material of your home now falling apart under effect of the burning. What scared you the most was the silence. As much as it pains you to say, you would’ve rather heard the painful yells of your baby than the wavering silence. 

Without hesitation, Ao’nung entered the marui first. He had little to no reaction as a piece of burning material from the roof fell ungracefully over his arm, leaving a small and ugly mark behind. Him halting in his steps was enough to bring you back to life and rushing to the scene besides him.

Though the sight before you was what no mother would ever wish to see. The woman that was once protecting your son now laid lifeless besides the weaved crib that was made from dried sea plants. The smell of death was atrocious, and you had immediately known that she had not died due to the unfortunate fires. She had been murdered by those sky demons. 

You had no care nor time to turn her around to investigate her cause of death. Though you were happy that you didn’t see the violent wound that ran down her back, a long cut that passed from the top to the bottom of her spine. Her blood seeped to the floor and tainted the material, and you could only wish then that it wasn’t Aytan’s, your son. 

She was bare and open from the back for anyone to see if they dared to flip her around. You were glad that you didn’t need to, because the sight of her guts spilling all over your feet would’ve surely made you regurgitate your meal all over her mutilated body. 

Instead your eyes panned for painfully long on your son that laid still in his crib. Void of any movement or life, you felt as though now you would puke. 

His skin was cursed with burn marks that overtook nearly half of his body. He looked so miserable and even if he was still alive at the moment, you would wonder if saving him would do him any good. The once soft baby skin now looked roughy and flaky. 

He was still so small that he could barely fit into the two palms of his father’s hands, but he was big enough to fit perfectly in your smaller ones. 

Perfectly safe and healthy in his mothers embrace is where he should’ve been right now, not like this. 

You looked over to Ao’nung for some unreasoned confirmation that your son was truly dead, but he wasn’t even looking at you. Instead, his lifeless eyes hovered over the charred child that laid innocently in his crib. He couldn’t even make a move to grab the baby, because he was frozen in anguish.

You couldn’t even remember when you had started crying, or when your cries had turned into desperate sobs and prayers towards Eywa. You couldn’t even remember when Ao’nung’s family had found the both of you safe and sound into the marui that once called a home, now in shambles beneath your feet. All you remembered was grasping your son with all force that you had left and praying to the Great-Mother down on your knees, and the painful tears that rolled down your husband’s cheeks.

Though there weren’t more than 3 tears that he had shed, it was 3 too much. He wouldn’t have cried if those damned demons didn’t follow your family here, but yet there he was. He too couldn’t even remember when his mother had embraced him, but she had done so. 

There were so many things that the both of you had regretted not doing on that night. Like staying back to protect your son by yourselves. You both resented yourselves for the fact that the last time the both of you would ever hold him this way would be at his funeral, followed by your brother’s. 

-

Everything was quiet since that night, at least for you. It was too much loss for your fragile heart to comprehend all at once. Was your brother’s death not enough, have they had to take your innocent son’s life as well. Your poor son that had just been presented to the clan

You were scared. Scared of so many things that you could not control. You feared what Ao’nung thought of you, did he hate you for not being there with you son? Maybe if you were, you could’ve protected him unlike the incompetent babysitter that you had left him with. No, you shook your head from those nasty thoughts. It was wrong of you to think ill of that woman, she had been present with your son until her unfortunate death. 

Your fears turned into trepidation as your husband made his way towards you, a plate of fish in his wobbly hands. 

Ao’nung was so angry at many things. He was angry at himself for not being there with his son. He felt mad at the poor woman for not having the ability to protect his innocent son. Though most of all, he felt vexed at you for freezing up on that day. He told himself that perhaps if you had not taken so much time to snap back to your senses, your son would somehow still be here.

He knew that it was wrong of him to think like this, he knew that even if you had acted faster, his son would still be laying unresponsive at his return. He knew that feeling angry at his innocent wife was wrong, that none of this had to do with you being at fault. He hates himself for having these unwanted feelings and thoughts, and at times Ao’nung truly wishes that he could silence his subconscious. 

He hated himself for internally blaming you even after watching you drown in remorse. Even after watching you sob over your dead son’s frail body. And even though it had been hours since the funeral of your brother and son, your tears still ran freely on your delicate cheeks.

They stained your dark skin and they strained your eyes that could do nothing to stop the flow. Ao’nung felt his guilt triple in size as he sat next to you, your body instinctively shaking as he engulfed you in his warm embrace. For he had always been your pillar of reconfort and the person that you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable within. 

He hushed you gently as you sobbed into his arms, his heart shattering once more as you cried to him. You were unsoothable but he hadn’t complained once, instead he gave you the comfort that you seeked so much. You felt guilty too, because you were not the only person going through grief. Who would be there to comfort Ao’nung when you were crying in his embrace?

Though when you made your worries audible, he was quick to shut them down. He wanted to be strong for you, for his family and mostly for himself. He told you not to worry, that he was okay as long as you were and soon your insecurities of him hating you vanished through the soft breeze. Ao’nung didn’t hesitate to remind you of how strong your love was and that you’d both get through it.

You both slept with heavy hearts at night, unable to close your aching eyelids until they fell on their own with exhaustion. His arms never left your form and you slept with your head on his chest, finding comfort in the sound of his beating heart.

-

You felt jealous at first, heart black and full of envy as you watched young mothers with their children. Hell, even the older mothers made your heart clench with resentment. And though you knew it was selfish of you to despise mothers for simply existing, there was little that you could do to make the feeling go away. 

You couldn’t face the sight of the young children that trudged behind their mothers and soon it began affecting your Tsahik performances. How could you heal children and mothers and assist labourers when you couldn’t even stand the sight of them anymore. 

It was unfair, so unfair for everyone but you knew that it was the way that life went. You knew that you couldn’t keep on closing yourself off like this, that you had to be accepting of what had happened and face reality. 

So accepting was what you had done. Slowly by slowly, you have started rebuilding your life with the help of people around you. Your mother was the most understanding person, because she had lost so much already. She had lost her son just as you had, but she had never once reprimanded you for grieving. She had never forced you to speak up to her, she had never resented you for feeling the way you did.

You had learnt that it was not the end of the world, and that one day you’d be better, you’d all be better. Neteyam and Aytan’s death were not in vain, for the Great-Mother always had a plan for everyone. If it was her will, then so be it, there was nothing that you could do to undo what was done anyways. 

Tuk had been the sweetest girl during that moment, and it never failed to bring tears in your eyes at how understanding she was. She was so young and you were sad that a part of her youth was taken away from her because of this ongoing war. 

You could never thank your brother and father enough for being there for you despite the guilt that weighed them down, pushing so hard that they could only bear to stand on their knees.

Though solace could only work in both ways, and you were just as there for them as they were there for you. Aytan was just as much their family member as Neteyam was, and they were allowed to grieve the loss of your son as well. It took time for you all to find peace within this feeling of forfeiture, but you all knew that one day, things would be okay. 

-

You watched as Ao’nung made his way towards his people, a prideful smile adorning his face as his gaze turned to you. His eyes were full of adoration as he stared at you, then to the little bundle of joy and baby fat that was lying comfortably in his arms. 

He stood before his people clad in his traditional clothes that were used during feasts and announcements of this type. 

The child in his arms stirred awake at the disturbance, whining slightly for her mother. The sound reached your ears and for a second you worried for your daughter, but you knew that nothing bad could happen to her as long as she was in her father’s arms. 

The child's stomachs growled loudly for a second and you had to bring your hand in front of your mouth to stifle your laughter. She had just been fed a few minutes before this and yet her hunger caught up to her once more. A trait that she had acquired from his father, you had to cook 3 times your own fish portion to properly feed his warrior’s stomach. 

Ura was a child that would soon grow to walk on clumsy legs, a child that was yours. Though a part of yourself was gone forever, tearing a piece of your heart along with it. You knew that the pain of losing your first child would never really go away, but you'd always have your family to help you get through it. You had a wonderful mate, that you relied your entire life within his hands, and a family that knows the ways past your heart. 

You watched as Ao’nung raised your 3 weeks old daughter into the air, her chubby little arms raising in amusement. The sound of her name pierced through your ears and soon the chants began to fill your heart with joy and pride. You couldn’t help the warm smile that overtook your features as you watched your daughter being presented to the entire clan, your family close behind you. 

Your mother held a hand over her chest, where her heart was. Her smile mirrored yours and the pride on her face could compete versus the one that she felt when you were the one being shown to her clan. Your father and siblings were close to her. Lo’ak now shone with new tribal tattoos, ones similar to yours as they dipped from his chin and all the way down his leg. 

His mateship with Tsireya was soon made public, and you felt a pang in your heart when you knew that you couldn’t tease him about it with Neteyam anymore. Though you swallowed your sorrows, feeling happy for your baby brother. Your sister in law stood besides your brother, her eyes glued to her newborn niece. A child that she knew that she just absolutely would spoil when she would learn to stand on her own feet. 

Perhaps things would get hard at times, and the reminiscences of your son would be permanent, but you had a loving family that would always help you fill the void. 

-

[effy-writes]

Hii!! Can I request a one shot of Stolas with a fem s/o who rlly can't see WHY he wants her. Reader just believes that she's weird and ugly, practically worthless. And Stolas finds her crying one day and comforts her?? TY!! <33

ofc! thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy <3

🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉

Stolas x Fem! Reader: Darling You’re All I Need

You always had horrible self esteem issues. Constant bullying of your looks, your personality, even the existence of your life. Kids can be pretty mean, especially since they don’t know that bullying can affect a person this much. Eventually you believed them.

Now as an adult, those self esteem issues didn’t go away, in fact they gotten much, much worse. You completely shut out from the outside world, you didn’t want to be seen or heard. Or maybe that’s what you really needed.

You were surprised whenever you became friends with the prince of Hell, Stolas. You were shopping at a clothing store and bumped into him. You profusely apologized and felt super bad that you bumped into a prince. Stolas reassured you that everything was okay and that you didn’t have to apologize. He saw how upset you were and offered to buy you something from here. You denied the offer because you believed you should be the one buying him something. Stolas said, “That’s no need. How about we go get coffee or tea tomorrow?”

At first you denied and wanted to run out of the store, but Stolas said something that made you rethink your decision, “I find you interesting, that’s all. Of course, you’re allowed to say no, but I do want to get to know you.”

So the next day you learned all about him. He was at that store looking for clothes to buy for his daughter. He also used to have a toxic situationship with this one imp that ended about a year ago. You listened closely as he talked about his childhood, adulthood, his daughter, his duties as a prince, but he wanted to know more about you.

You were taken back. Nobody asked you that before, you were completely shunned down by your peers.

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I think everyone is interesting in their own way. Tell me about your life or the things you like.”

You definitely did not want to tell him about your life. “I like stars and moons. That’s why I was shopping there yesterday. Um..” You couldn’t think of anything else.

Because of this interaction alone, Stolas was intrigued by your nature. Eventually you guys would go get coffee, brunch, lunch, even dinner almost everyday, and during those interactions he would find out more about you little by little.

He first found out about your childhood and how you would get bullied by kids everyday. His heart ached for you while hearing them. Some days after that you told him about middle school-high school and things got much worse for you, but you always told him, “It didn’t affect me,” but he knows very well that it did affect you, but he didn’t want to bring it up first.

Lastly, he invited you to his house, and when he did he finally got the truth, “Me? Why me? You don’t have to invite me because you feel bad about me. Christ on a stick I should’ve lied about my childhood.”

“Darling, I’m not doing this out of pity. I’m doing this because I love your presence. Come to my house tomorrow at 7, i’ll have a fancy dinner for you.”

“What about your daughter?”

“She’ll be at her mother’s.”

“Okay…is this a date?”

“Would it be a problem if I said yes?”

Now you were definitely taken back by this, “I don’t know, Stolas. I’m flattered! Really! But…”

“Don’t fret darling. If you don’t want it as a date then it doesn’t have to be, but I would like to have this date with you.”

This was something different for you. Your whole life you felt worthless to a point where you don’t deserve anything good, especially when it comes to a prince asking you this.

Days later after that date you two made it official. It was still all new to you and you felt like you were being pranked, but Stolas has been nothing but kindness towards you.

You later on met his daughter who seemed to like you. You two would talk about superficial things, but eventually she opened up to you, as well as you opened up to her.

Your life with Stolas has been great, and you believe it’s 100% to good to be true. The relationship has been phenomenal, but your self esteem was still in a shit hole.

Stolas knows this, he knew it the moment you accidentally bumped into him, but he didn’t want to point it out, he wanted you to express your feelings about your self esteem.

The trauma of verbal abuse caught up to you recently, making your self esteem even worse. You tried to keep it together, but day by day you were on the verge of a breakdown.

You and Stolas was laying in his bed watching some romance movie. His arm was around you while the other one was trailing circles on your arm. You looked at him with sorrow, you dont deserve a guy like him. You’re bringing him down, you’re too much for him, you’re too ugly compared to him, your personality is too much for him to handle.

You couldn’t do this anymore, “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.” You got out from his holding.

“Do you want me to pause the movie?”

“No, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay, darling.”

The moment you locked yourself in the dark bathroom you cried. You hardly ever cry because you believe it makes you look weak. Everything you do makes you look weak.

Thought after another thought caused another sob. Your head began to hurt from the painful sobs. You tried to quiet them so you won’t disturb Stolas and make him worry, but with each passing, horrible thought you couldn’t silence yourself.

A worried knock came from the door, “Darling? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” You choked on your tears.

“Y/n…” Stolas’ volume softened, “Can you open the door?”

You let out a shaky breath and unlocked the bathroom door. Stolas peaked in and was about to turn on the lights,

“Don’t! Just leave them off.”

Stolas left the bathroom door open to bring some light in, he sat down across from you. “Why were you crying?” His tone was still soft.

“I don’t feel too good about myself.” You rubbed your eyes.

“About what?” Stolas scooted closer towards you where your legs was touching.

“I don’t deserve you. Why would you want a girl like me? I’m messy, Im nowhere near royal, I’m off putting and I definitely don’t have the looks.” You sniffed.

Stolas couldn’t believe this, “Why would you say that? I’m very fond of you and-”

“Save it, you’re with me because you feel bad. That’s gotta be the reason why you’re with me, because why else? You’re a prince you could’ve found ANYBODY other than me. Anybody who doesn’t have horrible self esteem issues and-”

Stolas dragged you into his lap and held you, “Darling, you’re all I need.”

You blinked through the tears, “I don’t..I don’t know.”

“You deserve love,” Stolas slowly rocked you, “I want to help you feel loved. You make me the happiest guy in Hell and it pains me to see you like this.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you. I love your existence, your presence, your face. You’re all I need.”

[dittanyinbloom]

Baby Fever

Ominis Gaunt x Fem!MC. 11 years after the events of fifth year. Could been seen as a final part to Note Taking. But trilogy is so sweet I didn’t want to include smut.

Summary: Anne is struggling after the birth of her child, and Sebastian has too many kids of his own to give Anne the proper care she needs. Sebastian calls on you for help, but your husband Ominis insists on coming along despite his affinity for children. 13.3k long so grab some tea besties.

Warnings: 9.5k of fluff and angst and Ominis healing from childhood trauma and then about 3.5k of smut. Breeding kink but like- it’s sweet I swear. Maybe a bit of cockwarming thrown in there (Sorry, Jesus. I’ll repent later). Minors DNI!

.🍼🌿🍼

Y/N,

I hate to do this while business is booming for you, or should I say blooming? Sorry. I need a bit of humor whenever I can get it. Anne is not doing well since having the baby. She’s been on bed rest and she’s a complete mess. I can imagine you ridiculing me, but I am allowed to say such things. She is my twin after all.

Her husband still isn’t back from that work trip. My wife has been asking around the Ministry for me, but no one knows anything. He wouldn’t have missed the birth of their daughter. And she’s four days old now, the cutest thing, by the way. She's starting to look just like Anne’s baby photos.

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Sorry if this letter is scattered. I’ve got all four of my kids here with me. Their mother has to work while I’m taking off time to look after Anne. Obviously, someone has to earn money for the abundance of school robes we’ll be paying for in the very near future. They can’t be home alone with the youngest being only one. He’s walking now! Have I told you yet? Well, standing and wobbling. He’s getting there. Gonna be the next Slytherin Quidditch Captain in no time.

All this is to say, I need some help here with Anne. Helping her and taking care of her newborn is a two-person job. My kids make it a three-person job. I’m drowning a bit in diapers and screams and tears. Think everyone here has had a tantrum today alone, including me.

Needing your help desperately, my dear sister-in-law of mine. Don’t let Ominis roll his eyes when you read him that bit. He is my brother, blood be damned.

Sincerely,

Your Most Handsome Brother-in-law

S.S.

P!S! Please for the love of Merlin, bring washcloths. Between everything I’m trying to keep up with laundry and it’s simply impossible.

You glanced over the top of the letter once you were done reading it aloud. Contrary to Sebastian’s predictions, Ominis was not rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked forlorn and pale. Not only was he worried about Anne’s safety considering her poor condition after having the child, but he was no doubt worrying about Anne’s husband who was actually quite a lovely bloke. He fit in just right with Anne and Sebastian, and he very quickly grew on Ominis despite his attempts to keep the jokester at bay. In his eyes, Ominis had enough of that energy with Sebastian and Anne, who had been handling her curse greatly in the last few years and was back to her wild self, until the pregnancy complications that is.

What Ominis refused to acknowledge was that Anne’s husband didn’t have the mischief or malice of Sebastian and Anne. He was just a golden, loveable, arguably dopey guy. His love for Anne was so pure. He bawled multiple times on their wedding day. Being gone for so long during the latter days of Anne’s pregnancy was unlike him. And to miss the birth of his firstborn child, and likely their only considering the complications, was beyond excusable. Not that he would even try to excuse it because he was truly that honest of a man!

And then there was Anne, the most heartbreaking part of the letter. The doctors had her on bed rest seemingly indefinitely. She spent the last two months of her pregnancy in that dreary bedroom. When her husband was forced onto his work trip a week and a half ago, you closed up your magical plant shop and stayed by her side until the baby was born. A girl. She was born healthy with the cutest button nose. You held her for hours after she was born while the healers and Sebastian all huddled around Anne in worry.

Once Anne was safe and resting, Sebastian had tiredly collapsed on the couch next to you. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since you were teens still in school, causing mayhem that affected yourselves more than others. His wife had been watching over all four of their kids all day so that Sebastian could spend that moment with his twin. You put the baby girl in her uncle’s arms and the two fell right asleep just like that.

It had only been a few days, but you were wanting so desperately to get back to the little girl. And while Sebastian’s kids were a handful, to say the very least, you wanted to see them as well. You had done your fair share of babysitting those mongrels, so they were quite attached to you. Their obsession with you and inclination to always come visit and run up and down the hall of your home was actually welcomed, as crazy as that sounded.

By the time you realized you loved children and wanted some of your own, you were already deeply devoted to Ominis. Because of his past, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having children of his own. That was fine. Sebastian seemed set on having plenty for everyone.

Ominis stood from his velvet armchair and announced, “I’ll grab the washcloths.”

“Ominis, you do not have to go.”

He had stopped in the middle of the hall to ponder it. His head shook in disapproval. “I’m going to look after Anne. You’ll look after the baby. Sebastian will pack up the Quidditch team and head home so that Anne can rest in a peaceful house. Does that sound like a plan?”

You met him in the hallway and took his hands in yours. Butterfly-soft kisses were left on his knuckles. You spoke firmly and slowly to make your point. “You do not have to go with me to Anne’s. I can take care of both. It’s okay.”

“Don’t insult me,” Ominis insisted with a harsh whisper. “I won’t faint at the sight of a child, and if Anne needs me, I will be by her side. She is my sister.”

You chuckle, lightening the room for a moment, “Oh, so Anne is your sister, but you can’t admit Sebastian is your brother.”

“That’s because Anne is my sister through and through, but Sebastian can’t just claim such a title just because his kids call you Auntie. Such a thing has to be earned! Bestowed upon!”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled and smoothed his shirt across his shoulders to calm him. “You know he only says it at this point because it gets a rise out of you. And perhaps that’s why I bring it up too. You’re cute when you go red.”

“Oh, well thank you for adding to the stress,” Ominis shortly huffed in annoyance then turned to the bathroom to grab your house’s supply of washcloths.

Usually, he went along with your playful tones unless he was really out of sorts. You frown and follow right at his heels into the bathroom. “Sweetheart, we are all stressed. I’m sorry to make light of things in such dark times, but you always say you enjoy my light. I’m only trying to help you feel better.”

“I know. But right now-“ Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I just be alone for a moment? Why don’t you go pack up those strawberries for Sebastian’s kids? You know we won’t finish them before they go bad if they stay in our kitchen.”

With your head hung low, you trudged to the kitchen and began to ransack your cupboards for potential meals. If things were really as bad as Sebastian made them seem, he likely didn’t have time to cook properly for the kids, Anne, and even himself. A few sandwiches and the berries would make a healthy enough lunch. If Ominis was truly planning to go with you, Sebastian really could head home for a break like Ominis suggested. Sebastian could no doubt figure out dinner for his kids at his own home with the stress of Anne and the newborn off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” that was Ominis leaning against the doorframe to your tiny kitchen. He looked exhausted as though he fought some great battle during his moments of solitude in the bathroom. He hated this side of himself, the one that could be so cruel. With his history and his trauma from his childhood, you didn’t ever fault him for being triggered.

The entire friend group was blissful until Sebastian started having kids with his wife, which was only a year or two into having your adult jobs after graduating from Hogwarts. Ominis had gotten used to them, slightly, but now with Anne having a child, he felt like he couldn’t turn in any direction without feeling an immense guilt.

“That was hardly snapping,” you kept up your light tone. It wasn’t an act. You really weren’t fazed by his behavior. These were stressful times for everyone. “You’ve bitten me before, so I think I got off a bit lucky this time.”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. After all these years, you could still fluster him. It was actually one of your favorite pastimes. How much teasing could Ominis handle? You were always itching to find out.

“That- that was one time. And you- you said you liked it,” Ominis straightened from his lean against the doorframe as he stammered on, “And that was different.”

“I did like it,” you reassured him. Memories of that night fluttered back. The sting in your shoulder. The cold from the blood dripping down. Tasting metallic on his lips afterward… “Maybe if you would bite me more, I wouldn’t have to keep pressing your buttons to see which one ignites that side of you.”

Ominis rubbed his face as though he was tired of your antics, but his cheeks turning a deeper shade, nearly all red now, told you all you needed to know. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Didn’t I just admit to doing it on purpose?”

Ominis could hear the knife come out into the cutting board. He tilted his head. “What have you been up to in here? Thought you were going to grab the strawberries.”

“Sandwiches for everyone. Doubt Sebastian has had time to make lunch yet. I’d rather make them here than amid whatever chaos is happening there.”

Then Ominis was behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to map out where you were. It glided down to the small of your back and then snakes around the front, his other joining as his body pressed into yours from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder. His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, “Forgive me for taking my stress out on you?”

“You hardly said anything, Ominis. There is nothing to forgive.”

His lips pressed right at the back of your jaw where it met your ear. “Maybe I’m asking in advance for tonight.” Then his mouth opened. His teeth grazed your skin so lightly you thought you imagined it. And then, rather evilly in your opinion, Ominis stepped back and released his hold on you. “Hurry up with those sandwiches. I’m going to handle a few things before the trip, but I’ll be waiting by the fireplace to floo by the time you are done in here.”

Sure enough, your husband was waiting for you patiently at your fireplace after you finished packaging up the lunches. He held out a hand to steady you as you stepped up on the brick, hardly a necessary gesture, but he was being extra sweet with you while he still could.

“I put a closed sign out on the shop,” he sounded almost formal about it.

“Thank you,” you breathed out in gratitude, “I completely forgot.”

“That Alihotsy is getting a bit big for the nursery. It’s extending across the walkway. Startled me for a second.”

“Sorry. Yes. That fellow from Honeydukes is meant to come by sometime this week for it. I’ll have to write him to explain that we are looking after Anne. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if we dropped it by late at night on his doorstep?”

“Maybe tomorrow night. We’ll be too tired after this.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You always talk me into being lazy with you. Promise you won’t talk me out of it tomorrow too?”

“I would like its leaves out of the walking path, so I promise, tomorrow night we can take it to him. I won’t drag you to bed too early.”

“But I do look forward to ending up in bed with you after.” And with that, you threw down the floo power and were transported to Anne’s bungalow in Feldcroft. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the noise. There was a baby crying, kids screaming, and footsteps pounding around on the hardwood floor.

“I said to get that thing out of here!” That was Sebastian, sounding exasperated.

“I can’t catch it!” His oldest child, who was seven going into eight now, whined back.

“Then chase it out the door! It can’t be in here. It- oh! Y/N. Thank Merlin you’re here. Popped in at an awful time. Sorry for the mess.” Sebastian, while cradling his youngest in his arms, a baby who was about a year old now, kicked a few toys out of the way so you could step off the edge of the fireplace.

“Auntie Y/N!” Three children trapped you with hugs from all around. Then behind you, Ominis popped up in the fireplace and the three were rushing to embrace him as well.

You chuckled and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to ask, “Seb, why is there a chicken on the couch.”

“It’s on the-?” Sebastian turned and started to wave the brown chicken off of his sister’s couch. “Shoo! Shoo! You are lucky I haven’t cooked you yet!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your wand. “Levioso. Accio.” The brown chicken squirmed in your arm, but you held it at your hip and then turned to the three kids with an eyebrow raised. “Who brought a chicken in the house while Auntie Anne isn’t feeling well?”

None of the kids said a word, but the two oldest shoved each other while they all stared at the floor in shame. You sighed and said, “If you go and collect all the toys in the house and put them in the diaper bag, I will give you the surprise I brought.”

The kids lit up. Their guilt long forgotten.

“A surprise?!”

“What is it?”

“Ah, ah, ah. Pick up your toys first.” Then the three of them were off collecting the messing they made and putting it in their youngest sibling’s enchanted diaper bag.

You put the chicken in the backyard and came back to see Sebastian and Ominis having a chat on the couch while the baby while trying to pull itself up on the side to join in. Ominis flinched when the baby grabbed his pant leg. You were quick to dive down and pick the little one up, grunting as you did so.

“My oh my, you have gotten big! What are they feeding you? Rocks?”

“That one’s gonna win the World Cup. I just know it. Gonna be the best Beater there is.” Sebastian played with the baby’s chunky ankles while you held it. It cooed back at him as if it understood and agreed.

You laughed and moved the baby to your hip to then use your free hand to touch Ominis’s shoulder. “You wanna go check on Anne while we set up the picnic for the kids outside?”

Ominis nodded and stood up to leave. He seemed thankful to have an excuse not to join the chaotic lunch plans.

Sebastian smiled wide. “Am I hearing this right? You brought lunch?”

“Just some sandwiches and strawberries. Figured you hadn’t had the time.”

With an exasperated sigh, Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “You thought right. It’s been… a lot. The baby is sleeping now, I mean, the other baby, the newborn, Anne’s baby.” Sebastian paused for a second then whispered, “That’s still so crazy for me to say. I’m so happy for her.”

“You and your cousin are going to be the best of friends!” You told the one-year-old on your hip. So close in age. How fun! They’ll only be a year apart at Hogwarts. Bet they’ll get into even more trouble than we did.”

Sebastian covered his face and groaned. “Merlin, don’t say that. They already make me crazy as it is. Can’t imagine how I’d handle them being as wild as us.”

“Sebastian, there was a chicken on the couch when I got here. You may want to mentally prepare yourself for all sorts of Hogwarts shenanigans.”

Meanwhile, Ominis was knocking on Anne’s bedroom door and waiting to hear her voice before letting himself in. Sebastian’s kids were still being rather loud, but the decibel levels had greatly depleted. Ominis shut the door gently, but firmly, hoping to trap out any further noise. Their little feet could still be heard scampering about the echoey wooden floors as they searched for their abundance of toys to put away.

“Thought you two must have arrived,” Anne sounded exhausted. Ominis’s heart immediately ripped in two. He hadn’t heard her voice so raspy since they were teens. Anne had mostly healed from her curse. At around the ten-year mark, she decided she wanted to try for a child. She and her husband were happy and head over heels in love. They just wanted one child to share the love with. The risk was great with Anne’s past, but she didn’t want some retched curse to stop her from living her life the way she dreamed.

“And it was a good thing we did. Sebastian’s kids were terrorizing your home.”

Anne laughed at that, though it was quiet and airy. “They are just playing, Ominis. That’s why kids do. Not a dull day around here lately, that’s for sure.”

“Still, I’m sure you could rest better if it was quiet.” Ominis took a step to the right, meaning to meet her at her bedside.

“Wait-,” Anne croaked out, causing Ominis to freeze. “The bassinet is on this side. Come around to the other.”

Oh, right. Ominis swallowed thickly. He had forgotten about Anne’s baby for a moment. The room was so peaceful. It was hard to believe a child was in here with them. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Min,” Anne reassured as Ominis walked around to the other side of the bed. “Just didn’t want to bump into it and wake her. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Which was Anne’s way of gently warning him that the baby was probably going to cry for food soon that way he didn’t panic when he heard it.

Ominis cautiously sat on the side of Anne’s bed and asked, “Anything I can get for you? I’m here to look out for you, and Y/N is going to look out for the baby once she feeds Sebastian and the kids and sends them home.”

“Honestly, I was dying of boredom before you came in. Just you being here is enough.” Anne placed her hand over Ominis’s and squeezed. “And how is my Y/N doing? How’s the shop coming along?”

There was a thankful sigh of relief from Ominis’s lips at the subject change. He could talk about you and the shop for hours. “We’re loving it. She put me to work though with all the upkeep. I’m regretting cutting back my hours at the Ministry. At least they didn’t make me sweep.”

Anne’s soft chuckle sounded much closer to her normal self this time. Ominis let some of the tension in his shoulders release from knowing Anne wasn’t feeling too much pain at the moment.

“You know, they would take you back full-time in a heartbeat if you offered.”

“No, no,” Ominis quickly backtracked with a smile, “No, trust me, being at the shop is a walk in the park in comparison to the Ministry’s paperwork. The half of my week there is like a vacation. Besides, it’s right next door to the house. No travel sickness. And the greenhouse smells lovely. Much better to work in than those dingy offices.”

“Hey now, don’t talk bad on those dingy offices. I can’t wait to get back to them in a few weeks. I’ve already planned on how to reorganize mine. Bit of spring cleaning.”

Whatever was going on with Anne, Ominis had assumed it was to do with the curse. Hearing her so confidently say she would be back to work soon made Ominis tilt his head in confusion. Was she being her stubborn self, or were things not as bad as Sebastian’s letter made it seem. It was always hard to tell with the twins. Anne played everything off as fine, but Sebastian acted like Anne’s paper cuts were life-threatening.

“Planning to get back there so soon? Well, don’t strain yourself. The office will still be just as meek and dusty no matter how long you wait.”

“Suppose so. Might be nice to spend some extra time just with her.” Ominis couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew Anne was referring to the baby in the bassinet on the other side of the bed.

There was a soft knock on the door, and with Anne’s approval, you cracked the door open just enough to peek your head in. “Up for a few visitors? The kids want to say goodbye one by one. I’m including Sebastian in that category too, of course.”

“Hey!” Could slightly be heard from the hallway.

Then, one at a time, you allowed the kids to give their Auntie Anne a kiss goodbye. Lastly, Sebastian went in with his youngest in his arms. Anne chuckled at the red stains on the baby’s hands and shirt from the strawberries. She could picture how it probably mashed the berry in its hand before shoving it in its mouth and likely missing its mouth entirely so that the strawberry ended up mostly on the ground. Her heart tinged a bit. She wished she could have joined them for lunch and not been forced to stay in her tiny bedroom.

“Get some rest,” Sebastian mumbled as he kissed her forehead.

“You too,” Anne replied. “Thank you for looking out for me these past couple of days, but go home and relax. Ominis and Y/N will take good care of us here.”

Then Ominis felt a hand on his shoulder. By the way it lightly massaged him, he instantly knew it was his wife. She leaned in close to whisper to him, “I’m going to walk Seb and the kids home to make sure none of them wander off. They’re a bit ornery today. Will you be okay without me?”

A pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach. Ominis hated that he was the one you were worried about leaving while Anne was quite literally bedridden. It was embarrassing that you felt as though you needed to check in with him before taking a quick walk just a few houses down to Sebastian’s place. His…affinity to kids was bad, he knew that, he knew that you knew that and that’s why you were being overly protective. Still, it hurt his ego just a bit.

“Take your time. We’ll be okay here,” Ominis whispered back, trying his best not to sound short. If there was any uneasiness in his tone, he knew you would drop everything to comfort him. That couldn’t happen now. Sebastian might have needed your help walking the kids back, but Ominis knew that it was partially an excuse on your part to spend more time with them. He didn’t want to take that from you.

The baby, well, Anne’s baby was sleeping anyway. Sebastian’s was blowing raspberries while Anne was cooing a goodbye to it.

He waited until he heard the front door close to admit to Anne, “You asked how she’s doing… I don’t think she’s happy.”

“With the store?” There was a hint of terror in her voice as if Anne feared it was something worse.

After a moment of silence, Ominis shook his head no. “I can tell she wants more. She grew up in a big family and then Hogwarts was always just as loud and chaotic. At first, I think she appreciated the peace and quiet after we got our house, but lately… Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night and she’s gone. She goes and falls asleep by the gramophone in the living room as if she needs the noise for comfort.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder as Anne said, “Oh, Ominis…”

“I think she would be happier if she were with someone that could provide what she wanted, but she’d never admit that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I know you can’t see the way she looks at you, but you’re her world. Don’t ever even suggest such a thing to her. It would shatter her. She is happy with you, just you. We’ve talked about it before, she and I. She is content with being an aunt to Sebastian’s kids, and now my girl. Please don’t worry over this in the slightest.”

Anne’s comfort eased his pain, but the guilt of it all still weighed him down. They chatted for a while about Sebastian’s wife and her exciting job until you made it back to the house. You leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and listened to the two old friends talk for a while before interrupting, “Do you want to have a bath while I change your sheets for you, Anne?”

“Is that your way of saying I smell?”

“Your hair is a bit of a mess,” you joked as you walked up to her side of the bed and gently moved the bassinet so that you could help Anne up.

At the sound of shuffling and Anne wincing, Ominis offered, “Do you want me to-“

“It’s alright,” you said, suspiciously quick. “Us girls have got this. I’ll just set Anne up in the bath. Do you want to start removing the blankets?”

Ominis stood from the bed and started to remove the covers at your request, albeit a bit reluctantly due to his confusion and frustration. Why didn’t you let him carry Anne to the bathroom? It wasn’t like the intimacy mattered. He couldn’t see.

Wordlessly, he carried the laundry to the back porch and then felt through the linen closet for another set. The two of you met back in Anne’s room at the same time. You kissed his cheek and took the fitted sheet from him to start unfolding it. That was the only covering you managed to get on before the baby stirred in the bassinet. It started to cry out, loud and demanding. Ominis flinched and clutched the blanket he was holding while you scooped the baby up in your arms.

“Oh, that sounds like a hungry cry,” Your voice was soft and unfazed by the cries. “Come on. To the kitchen, we go. I’m going to show your Uncle Omi how to make a bottle for you.”

Ominis tensed at that. “Why? I thought we agreed that I take care of Anne and you take care of…her.”

“If we really are going to be here the next few days helping out, you might as well learn.” You didn’t say anything more as you headed to the kitchen. It was up to Ominis whether or not he followed.

And follow he did with a heavy sigh. Anne’s kitchen was far more spacious than your own. He still hadn’t mapped out where everything was since it all seemed to spread apart. There was even room under the south-facing window for a breakfast nook area that had the perfect view of Feldcroft. You stared out at it wistfully. Down the way a bit, you could make out Sebastian’s two oldest digging away in their front yard. They had told you on the walk back that they had been trying to dig to the center of the earth. You had laughed and told them they would need a pretty long ladder, but you didn’t discourage their determination.

“Do you want to hold her while I grab the-“

“Just tell me where it is,” Ominis insisted, sounding a bit exasperated. His heated tone made you giggle. When you first met him, he used to always be on edge like this. There was a cold exterior about him that was snappy and sarcastic. In his defense, Sebastian was putting him through a lot at the time with his unforgiving plight to find a cure for Anne. But you didn’t mind it then just like you didn’t mind it now. Ominis was complicated, and that’s what drew you in.

“A step forward and to your left. Should be a cylinder tin on the second shelf of the cupboard.” Your direction was easy to understand and deeply appreciated.

Sometimes at work with the Ministry, Ominis would ask something like, “Which one?” Only for his coworker to inevitably reply something stupid like, “The green one.” He never had to prod you for more information. If only he could bring you everywhere to direct him like this. Though, maybe not while you held a crying baby in your arms.

“I’m putting an empty bottle right beside the tin here. But first, we need to set up the kettle.”

“Are we making tea for Anne?” This he was familiar with even in Anne’s kitchen. Ominis made quick work of taking the kettle from the stove and filling it in the sink.

“Just heating up the water a bit. Not too hot. I’ll show you how to check the temperature after we’re done. While that’s heating, you can measure the power. There should already be a scooper in the tin. Two scoops should be plenty. She’s still so tiny.” You took a moment to admire the baby girl in your arms. She really was the spitting image of Anne.

While you rocked her to soothe her cries, Ominis poured two scoops of the formula into the bottle and tried not to grimace at the sour smell of it. Now he understood why babies smelled the way they did. It was a mix of this awful powdered milk and the starchiness of baby powder. Very off-putting and unpleasant.

“Water should be warm enough now. I’ll tell you when to stop pouring. Go slow,” you directed. You stopped him just at just a quarter full and reached to touch the bottle to feel how hot the water was. “Just a splash of cold water and that should be perfect.” Ominis brought the bottle to the sink and literally just let the smallest splash into it. You giggled and prompted, “Okay, maybe two splashes.”

Next, you handed him a clean top for the bottle which he took a moment to stir on straight then asked, “Are we done here?” in a very bored tone.

You smiled as you shook your head and clicked your tongue. “Always so impatient, my love. The powder needs to be mixed in. You’ll have to shake the bottle and-“ Ominis started shaking the bottle immediately, wanting to get this over with. Formula sprayed out of the nipple and got on the kitchen floor, Ominis’s hair, and your face. He froze, realizing his mistake.

Your laughter was so intense that you doubled over, clutching the baby to your chest so that you wouldn’t drop her during your fit. Ominis was blushing, but the sound of your laughter made him smile sheepishly.

“I am an idiot,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, yes your are. You have to cover the tip of the nipple.”

“Excuse me?” Ominis sounded almost offended. You laughed harder, not being able to take much more of this.

“That’s what the rubber part of the top of the bottle is called! It’s not like I came up with it!” After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you reached over and placed Ominis’s finger over the tip of the bottle. “Okay, now you can shake it without making it rain indoors.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled shyly.

“I love you,” you answered.

Once the formula was mixed up, it was time to test the temperature. “This part is simple. Hold out your wrist,” you told him. When he did, you guided his hand that was holding the bottle to dab the slightest bit of formula on his inner wrist. “Do you feel that?”

A flash of uncertainty washed over his features. “Yes, but how do I know if it’s right?”

You held out your wrist, lighting bumping it to his so he knew where you were. “Let me feel and I’ll tell you.”

The fingers of his free hand drifted across the palm of your open one, acting as if he wasn’t sure where your wrist was. You had a smug smile knowing it was all for show. You had made your movements very clear. He only wanted to touch your hand, but you weren’t about to call him out on that. The bottle dipped to let a drip fall on your wrist. It was like warm. Not too cold that the powder didn’t mix in properly, and not too hot that it would hurt the baby.

“This is perfect. You want to test it on your wrist again so you can remember this temperature for next time?”

He snorted and insisted there wouldn’t be a next time, but he tested the formula on his wrist once more and looked rather deep in thought as if trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed his cheek and thanked him while taking the bottle. A weight lifted off Ominis’s shoulders when the baby stopped crying in your arms. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Glad that’s over.”

“Well, get used to it because it’ll probably happen every four hours or so.”

That statement did not spark joy for Ominis, but you hadn’t been trying to. It was the truth. This was the reality of helping out Anne right now: a crying newborn.

“Let’s go check on Anne in the bath.” Now that was a statement Ominis didn’t mind. You followed him down the hallway and stood at his side while he knocked on the bathroom door.

“How are you doing, Annie?” He asked in a soft tone.

“Just fine, Min! I’ll be getting out soon. How’s the baby?”

“Ominis made her a bottle!” You cut in proudly.

Anne paused a moment then asked, “‘S it poisoned?”

Ominis rolled his eyes while you responded, “No! I watched him like a hawk. I promise! He did great!”

Anne’s laughter echoed in the bathroom. “Well, then thank you, Ominis!”

In the living room, you nestled in on the couch, using the armrest to support your elbow. Holding the baby in the kitchen that whole time had made you ache. She wasn’t heavy either, maybe six pounds at the most. You couldn’t fathom how Sebastian held his youngest all day. That baby was huge!

“Anything I can get you?” Ominis was hovering over you from behind the couch. His hand was resting on the back of it and his fingers were reaching up to brush your shoulder. It was clear he wanted to touch you, but you were holding a baby and that terrified him.

“Maybe turn on a bit of music? There’s a very fancy-looking phonograph sitting in the far corner on your left. It’s begging to be played.”

Your wish seemed to be his command. Ominis brought out his wand and used his sensing charm before pointing it precisely at the phonograph. The needle reset itself on the record and began to play a beautiful sonata. It started out with a feathery light piano that was quickly joined by a set of strings. You weren’t well versed enough in muggle music to know if it was a violin or cello, but its tender tones took the lead of the song while the piano supported the beat and background. There was just a hint of a wind instrument harmonizing with the main melody of the strings. It wasn’t prominent enough to tell if it was a flute, or perhaps a panpipe…

“Come sit by me,” you requested dreamily.

With the music and the airy sound of your voice, Ominis was lost in the moment. He kissed the top of your head then walked around the front of the couch to be next to you. The string instrument started to swell. His hand rested on your knee as he sat down and immediately inched higher and higher until his forearm bumped your elbow and he briefly wondered why your elbow was sticking out like that.

Reality came hurtling back like a bludger. His hand jolted off you as if your skin burned him. He had forgotten about the baby being fed in your arms.

Ominis hoped you hadn’t even noticed his slip up, that you were too lost in feeding the child. With the way you were talking to it, Ominis felt as though he was in the clear. You were commenting on how the baby’s hand was curling around your ring finger. It seemed to like the smooth texture of your wedding band.

“You trying to steal my ring, little one? Four days old and your mommy has already trained you to be her little niffler? Well, I’m very sorry. You can’t have my wedding ring. I love it too much. You can have your own if you choose to get married one day.”

“Anna and Sebastian are probably competing to see who can have the most mischievous child,” Ominis said mostly to himself since he assumed you were lost in your own little world.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” you joked in return. “And you can put your hand on my thigh if you would like. It is not going to offend the baby.”

Sometimes he hated how in tune you were with him. Ominis put a hand back just below your knee and squeezed to show his annoyance with you, a move he often did to fluster you and keep your teasing mouth quiet.

The move was not working out in his favor while you were holding the baby, however. You gossiped to her, “Oh, Uncle Ominis is mad at me for some reason. I’m in such big trouble. He’s got the grumpy pout. I think he’s feeling a bit bashful that I called him out, what do you think?”

A loud thud sounded from the bathroom. Ominis was standing in a flash. You dropped the bottle beside you on the couch to grab him by the shirt, insisting, “You take the baby! I’ll go get her!”

A look of annoyance washed over Ominis's face and he defied your request, “Are you insane? Just let me-“

“She’s going to want it to be me, not you.”

For the first time since your school days, he bitterly reminded you, “I’m blind! It’s not like I’ll see anything!”

You were standing now, matching his volume. “She’ll just want a woman there that understands-“

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have! She’s a sister to me, I understand her perfectly! She-“

“She’s still bleeding,” you whispered through your teeth, “You know, down there. That’s why she’s been on bed rest. They had to give her muggle stitches.”

Ominis paled and swallowed quickly. He had assumed Anne was hurting from the curse. The last thing on his mind was average birthing complications. “Oh.”

“Sit down on the couch and put your elbow on the armrest,” you insisted in a very angry tone that you only ever used on Sebastian when he was stepping out of line, which was very, very rare these days. Hearing you so angry sent a shiver down Ominis’s spine. He sat, but panic was bubbling to his surface when he realized why you told him to put his elbow on the armrest.

“My love, please, I’m sorry, I can’t- Don’t make me-“

“It’s a newborn, Ominis! She isn’t going to remember this moment! You can’t possibly do anything wrong. Just feed her the rest of the bottle!” Your screaming made Ominis snap his mouth shut.

You leaned down and put the baby, who was now crying from her bottle being ripped from her and all the commotion, into his arms with a gentleness that shocked Ominis. How you went from screaming at him to carefully making sure the baby’s head was supported on his arm just right, he would never know. The bottle was picked up from where it had rolled to the other side of the couch and put firmly in Ominis’s hand with a bit more fire to your placement this time around.

“Feed her. She can’t cry if there is a bottle in her mouth. Relax your shoulders. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

Then your footsteps were fading. Ominis couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking. The baby was still crying, and although the only other sound in the house was the soft piano and strings coming from the phonograph, Ominis was overwhelmed to the point of shock. The baby weighed in his arms, but not nearly as much as he expected it to. He had held Sebastian’s firstborn twice: once when it was a month old and then one other time when it had just started crawling. Sebastian’s baby was never as feather-light as the dainty little thing crying in his arms now. It didn’t even stretch across Ominis’s chest. Tiny little feet were kicking his right arm that had been white-knuckling the bottle. They were covered in fuzzy knit socks that felt soft and plush against his arm with each weak kick.

The baby seemed to kick some sense into Ominis because he realized it would stop crying if he would just hurry up and give it the bottle. At first, he tried placing it in the baby’s flailing hands, but it wouldn’t take it from him. Was holding a bottle not something babies could do for themselves? He was pretty sure Sebastian was able to hand his youngest a bottle and walk away. Why didn’t this one know what to do?!

Ominis was ready to give up, but he didn’t know how to move the baby properly or where to put it even if he had the nerve. The couch? Would it roll off? The floor? Surely that wasn’t appropriate.

“Fine! Fine,” Ominis grumbled. He set the bottle between his legs and then hesitantly touched the baby's chest and glided up to feel where its mouth was. The thing was so tiny, and even though Ominis was holding it, he still expected it to take longer to find its mouth. But before he could pull away, the baby sucked his pointer finger in and bit down. It might have not had any teeth, but its gums were still brutal!

“Ow!” Ominis hissed and yanked his finger away from the little gremlin. He shook his hand with a dramatic flair to lessen the hurt. The baby went right back to crying. “That was uncalled for.”

Finally, Ominis was able to get the bottle in the baby’s mouth. There was an annoying squeak from it sucking on the rubber, but other than that the living room had turned back to its peaceful state. The record on the phonograph was playing a more upbeat tune. All was well.

Meanwhile, you had sprinted into the bathroom panicked and breathing heavily. Anne was lying on her back near the sink, about a meter from the tub.

“Anne!” You gasped and hurried over to her.

“Oh, hey,” Anne laughed lightly, not acting injured in the slightest. “How was your domestic disagreement? I have never heard you two argue like that. It was quite entertaining.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Mostly just embarrassed. I slipped while I was brushing my teeth. Wasn’t even walking or anything, just tumbled over for no reason. Held onto the sink though, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“You need help up?”

“Yeah. My hip is pretty sore, as if it wasn’t bad enough down there already,” Anne always kept a light tone to not worry others. You understood the sentiment. She didn’t want to be treated like a child or hovered over. Sebastian used to do that to her constantly, he had gotten a lot calmer over the years, but Anne hadn’t learned to get rid of her coping mechanisms yet.

“Let me dry the floor then I’ll help you up. Looks like a hurricane happened in here. Were you playing with the bath bubbles?” You joked to put her at ease.

She sighed gratefully for your calm nature. “Maybe. It had been a while since I’ve had a bubble bath. Might have got a bit carried away.”

You dramatically dragged a towel along the floor at the edge of the tub and asked, “A bit?”

It took some patience, but you managed to get Anne to her bed. There was still only the fitted sheet in place, so you added the bedding around her and made a point to tuck her in so tight that she couldn’t even wiggle. She shoved your hands away, laughing at your antics. The two of you chatted for a bit about your new plant shop and whether or not you missed working at the Ministry.

In the living room, the light squeaking of the bottle stopped. Ominis frowned in confusion. He could feel that there was still a bit of liquid sloshing around in the glass. Would the baby start crying again? Why had it stopped eating? Fearing the worst, he set the bottle down on the couch beside him and then leaned his ear in close to make sure the baby was still breathing. He placed his hand over its chest to feel the rise and fall. The tip of his middle finger touched its chin and the bottom of his hand was over its stomach. How could something be so small?

The baby’s hands latched onto his, one grabbing his thumb and the other his pinky, holding Ominis against its chest. Ominis blushed at the contact. The hands were soft and oh, so tiny. It could hardly clasp his thumb properly. Its breathing started to slow. The record on the phonograph came to an end, leaving a soft scratching sound to fill the room.

“Alright then,” his voice was but a whisper so that he wouldn’t disrupt the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Having his hand cradled like that made his heart clench tightly and painfully. The baby’s little cotton clothes were slightly wet around its neck from the formula, but other than that, Ominis didn’t mind that his hand was trapped.

His own breathing started to slow for the first time since arriving at Anne’s place.

A few moments later, you had been sent by Anne to collect her child. She wanted to snuggle with the baby while they both had a nap. The fiasco in the bathroom had worn her out.

The last thing you expected to see was a soft smile on Ominis’s lips while he seemed to be resting. The baby was pulled in close to his chest and was clutching into Ominis’s hand. They both looked fast asleep. The sight filled you with warmth. Your eyes softened, and you nearly wanted to shed a tear. Instead of disrupting them right away, you turned off the phonograph that had been playing nothing and washed the unfinished bottle in the kitchen sink.

When it came time to finally collect the baby from Ominis, you felt slightly guilty for dragging it out for so long. He just looked so precious holding a child. It was doing things to you, making you yearn for things you had sworn off thinking about.

With the utmost care, you reached to scoop the baby out of Ominis’s arms. His left arm tightened around the child, drawing her closer to his chest.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

That was…odd. Was he talking in his sleep? You couldn’t recall Ominis ever doing such a thing.

“It’s just me, love. I’ve come to relieve you from your babysitting duties. Sorry it took me so long.”

You tried going in for the exchange again, but Ominis insisted, “Just another moment, please. Just one moment.” His voice was breaking. It was clear now he hadn’t been sleeping at all to begin with because a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. It had been quite some time since you had seen Ominis in such a fragile state. When he would open up about his family and his childhood, sometimes he would get quiet like this. In those times, he had held onto you like you were driftwood in an ocean of terror he was drowning in. The way he was cradling the baby so close to his chest now meant he was anchoring to her at this moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to take her from him, even if the baby’s young mother was wanting to see her.

The only thing you could do was sit beside him on the couch. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hand rubbed in soft patterns across his arm. A few moments later, you had to tell him, “Anne sent me to collect the baby.”

Ominis nodded and softly said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer then. You can- you can take her now.”

There was a tense static in the room. The last thing you wanted to do was end this moment. Even with Sebastian’s for at born, Ominis had never asked to hold them, let alone hold them longer the few times he had been forced to.

“Why don’t you just carry her to the bedroom for me, hm?”

That was not what Ominis wanted to hear. His eyes widened with fear. “I can’t I- I don’t know how to.”

“It’ll be alright,” you were already adjusting his left arm so that he was providing better support underneath her as you spoke, “Just support her bum here. You can use your other arm too if you’re unsure. Just bring that one to cover here and- There. Now you’ve got a very good hold on her. After you get up from the couch just put it right back there where I showed you. I’ll lead you to the bedroom. Come along, now.”

Before he had time to come up with an excuse, you were dragging him up from the couch and guiding him to Anne’s room. Usually, he hated being guided places unless the situation was dire or he was in a big crowd. Sometimes people at work would try and guide from around the building. He took a bit of offense to it. If he ever needed a guide, he could just use his wand!

But now he was holding this tiny little thing in his arms, and it was alive and depending on him not to trip or bump into something. Without fighting it, Ominis let you hold his elbow and guide him across Anne’s house to the master bedroom. You had him sit in an armchair in the corner of the room as you joked with Anne, “You said, ‘Bring the baby’, and I wasn’t sure which one so naturally… I brought both.”

“You two look good like that. With her,” Anne commented as you put your hand on Ominis’s shoulder.

You were thankful Ominis couldn’t see your flush or the warning look you gave Anne. Around Ominis, you tried your hardest to avoid the topic of starting a family of your own. Your mother mentioned it every time the two of you visited her. She wanted grandkids. Usually, Anne and Sebastian were safe to converse with because they knew Ominis as well as you did. A comment like that almost felt out of character for Anne, especially since she was so protective of Ominis.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ominis replied smoothly.

“Have you burped her yet?”

“Have I what?”

You laughed and patted Ominis on the shoulder. “That can get messy. Why don’t we let Anne do that, hm?”

“I can do it,” he offered quickly. “Just tell me how, and I can do it.”

You draped a towel over his shoulder and directed him to lay the baby against it. It didn’t take long to burp her. Ominis winced at the wet gurgling by his ear and the pungent, sour smell of the formula coming back tenfold. You giggled at his reaction and seemed to be cleaning up the baby’s face so that Ominis could go back to snuggling her.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. I’d hoped you would. After all, she’s named after you.”

A beat of silence dragged by before Ominis was able to ask, “What?”

“My little Minnie. Cute, don’t you think?” Anne smiled softly. “You were always there for me when Sebastian and I had our falling out. I appreciate you and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Minnie is such a sweet name,” you commented once you realized Ominis was too stunned to respond. “Perfect for this sweet little girl.”

A couple of hours went by while you and Anne chatted. Ominis didn’t move from the armchair with Minnie and never once complained about his arm going numb from holding her.

Went you stood up so go start something for dinner, an Apparation crack sounded from outside. All three of you were alert and tense, wondering who it could be. You brought out your wand and headed to the front door, but it burst open before you had the chance to get there.

“Anne?!” The desperate cry of her husband called through the house. His heavy footsteps sprinted for the bedroom. Blood and scrapes littered his face and his hair and clothes were in disarray and even looked a bit singed. “Are you alright?” He raced to embrace her.

“You’ll have to give her up now, my love,” you whispered in Ominis’s ear while Anne and her husband reunited.

With a heavy sigh, Ominis stood from the armchair and approached the side of the bed Anne’s husband was standing on. He tearfully took Minnie from Ominis then looked at Anne in disbelief.

“She looks just like you.”

Sebastian’s wife was standing in the entryway, looking just as disheveled as Anne’s husband. While you and Ominis left the bedroom to give the new family some privacy, Sebastian’s wife explained, “There was a dragon attack that led to a cave-in. He was trapped for nearly a week.”

“Lucky you were able to find him. You’re amazing, honestly. Are you okay? Do you need anything? The both of you look like you got in a fistfight with the dragon!” You told her.

“Nearly did! Its tail swung at me at one point. It’s been an eventful day. All that’s on my mind is getting home to the kids and Sebastian.”

“We’ll be heading home as well, I think. Stay safe.”

With her gone, you cleaned up a few things around Anne’s house. Ominis tagged along on your cleaning spree, but he was nearly silent while doing so. You worried today might have been too much for him, but you would decide you would wait to check on him until after getting him to the comfort of your own home.

“You can floo first, Ominis! I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to throw this blanket in the laundry bin.”

He was gone in a smokey, green flash. As promised, you traveled just a moment later. You hardly had a second to focus on the blur of your living room before a pair of hands were haphazardly dragging you forward until a rather demanding set of lips landed over yours. In his defense, Ominis had warned you earlier that day that he would be taking his stress out on you.

“What a lovely welcome home,” you comment when he pulls away, thinking it would end there.

His voice was a bit raspy in your ear, “Tell me what you’ve been wanting, and I’ll give it to you.” And although the sound of his voice was arousing, you could tell he wasn’t talking about anything sexual. There was a pointed annoyance in his tone. The unspoken dream you’ve been trying to keep to yourself secret all these years seemed to be weighing down on the both of you.

“Ominis, I don’t expect that of you. Is this because of what Anne said about us looking good with a baby? She was only teasing, Ominis. You know I would never ask that if you.”

Lips started to trail down your neck, tasting you. Between kisses, Ominis was whispering, “So good to me. Trying to hide her desires. It’s okay. I want it too.”

“What do you mean?” You managed out between gasps. His hands were exploring every inch of your body as if he didn’t already have you memorized. It took all of your willpower to restrain yourself and pull away from him because he seemed as though he was going to continue on without clarifying if you weren’t going to make him.

He groaned as if he was the one losing out on pleasure by you pulling away. “Want it too. Wanna give you a baby,” he whined softly. The words shocked you enough that your hold weakened. Ominis took the opportunity to lean back in, but you put your hands on his shoulders to hold him at bay.

“I think you caught an illness while at Anne’s,” you say in a worried tone. The back of your fingers pressed to his forehead. “Yup, just as I suspected. You have a bad case of baby fever. I think a good night's rest will be just the cure.”

Rolling his eyes at your antics, Ominis insisted, “I’ve thought about this before, and I know you want one. I don’t need sight to know how you feel about Sebastian’s kids. You are always coming up with excuses to be with them longer. It’s okay. I’m not going to be angry if you admit it. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I’m happy with you. I don’t need anything more. I would never ask for anything more.”

Ominis rested his forehead against yours. “I know you would never dare to ask. That’s why I’m offering.”

“And you’ll regret offering such things in the morning,” you reminded him.

“No, I won’t.”

“I know holding Minnie was overwhelming for you, but don’t let those new emotions cloud your judgment. You’ve never wanted kids before this. Just think for a moment and-“

“I have thought about it, many times. Maybe I’ve been apprehensive to the idea, but that was before. I thought it wasn’t possible for me to connect with children, that I wouldn’t be able to care for them the way a parent should. I thought I’d be cold and distant like my parents, so I didn’t want to bring a child into this world for them to feel alone and unwanted. But now, with her, I was able to care, to- to…”

“To love?” you offered

“Please say you believe me,” he sounded so lost and broken.

Your hands cupped his cheeks as you wiped away his tears of frustration. “I believe you. I never doubted that you wouldn’t be able to love our child if we had one. I just assumed you didn’t dare to let yourself try because of your parents. I love you, Ominis. Of course I want to have your children. I want them to be just as stubborn, but just as caring as you. I want them to have your sarcastic wit but also your devoted loyalty. It’s something I’ve thought about endlessly, so don’t think I’m turning you down when I ask for you to think on it just a while longer. Let the emotions from today come back down. I’ll make us dinner, we’ll go to bed. Then, whenever you are ready to talk about this, we will.”

Ominis managed to look disappointed but grateful at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”

And think on it he did, or simmer was a closer description. While you were in the kitchen, he pretended to read with his wand. There was a moment of uncertainty when he thought about how holding Minnie had made him feel. Would he be able to connect like that with his own child? But then again, how could he not? His own child would be half you, and he loved every part of you, even the side of you that thought you knew what was best for him by making him sit with his thoughts.

After a while, you brought him a cup of tea and kissed his temple. Ominis mumbled a thank you and continued to pretend to read. He could tell by the way you lingered in the doorway as you left the living room that you had used the tea as an excuse to check in on him. Instead of clueing you into his thoughts, he remained aloof and sipped his tea without showing any emotion positive or negative. The last thing he wanted was to hear you ramble about how he wasn’t in the right headspace to know what he truly wanted.

What he wanted was to be buried deep in you as he came. He wanted to, for once, not ruin his adrenaline rush by pulling out at the last second. He wanted you to have his child. He wanted a family with you, and he didn’t want to waste another second before starting it. This was something he should have done years ago.

“Dinner is ready,” you announced. There was a tremor in your voice as though you were nervous to speak to him. You spent the last thirty minutes hiding in the kitchen and wondering if he was cross with you since he hardly spoke at all when you brought him tea.

“It smells lovely in here.” Ominis played along with you, pretending not to notice your slip-up.

“Thank you. What were you reading?”

“A book that Sebastian’s wife recommended about keeping dragons.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“It is.”

And that was all you got out of him. Ominis finished his food before you then disappeared to the kitchen to do the dishes while you sat in silence at the dining table. The wine wasn’t strong enough to keep your mind from worrying. How long would things be like this? Usually, Ominis was easy to get through to, so your arguments never lasted long. Would this remain an unspoken thing in your marriage for years to come? Forever?

You tiptoed into the kitchen with your empty plate. Ominis had done most of the dishes except for a single pan and the plate and fork in your hands. Even though you were trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Ominis held his open hand out in your direction and said, “Your plate.”

Reluctantly, you handed him the dirty dish. “Thank you for cleaning.”

“You cooked, so I cleaned. No reason to thank me. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right,” you whispered quietly.

Ominis raised his brow. “What? No comeback? No telling me how wrong I am for not accepting your gratitude? No making me think about it before I decide I want to do the dishes?”

“So you are mad at me!” You said it like it was an accusation. “I knew it. You’re being ridiculous! I’m only asking you to think on this before you decide!”

“You think I haven’t thought about it? Nearly ten years of marriage and you don’t think I fantasize about what it would feel like to hold you while my child is growing inside you?” He dried his hands on a dishrag and then leaned against the counter, looking exasperated. His volume hadn’t matched yours yet. He was holding back.

“You don’t have to do this just because it’s something I want!”

“Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t want it too!” His yell seemed to echo in the tiny kitchen.

After a second of trying to remind yourself how to breathe, you felt horrible for letting it escalate so far. Hearing Ominis was scared just made you want to comfort him. You spoke softly, “Ominis-“

“No, don’t do that. Don’t pity me and try to comfort me. Don’t use that as an excuse for us not to do this. Either you want us to have a child, or you don’t. I need you to be fully in on this as well. I’ll need you to show me how to make a bottle a few more times, how to change a diaper, and how to hold them properly. I need you to be patient with me, but I don’t want you to pity me. Is that understood?”

“I understand.” His words started to sink in. He seemed satisfied with your agreeability and turned back to the sink to finish the last two dishes. When the water cut off, you were still frozen in the center of your kitchen and trying to figure out if this was all real or a fever dream.

Ominis was humming a melody that had been playing earlier on Anne’s phonograph as he put away the pan he cleaned last. When he passed you by, a hand reached out to touch you. It dragged across your stomach to your hip and squeezed.

“If you are feeling against the idea any sort of way, now might be your last chance to speak up,” he warned, “I won’t be able to hold back tonight with this on my mind.”

“Don’t hold back-“ Was all he needed to hear before you were backed up against the kitchen counter with his lips how and heavy on yours. His approach was usually far more gentle. The two of you could kiss for hours before he’d even cop a feel. Now his hands were unbuttoning your clothes at your waistline and tugging the fabric down with haste.

This is what you’ve been dreaming of. Only a handful of times had Ominis ever devoured you in such a way. Things were more heated when the two of you were younger, exploring each other, and having uncontrollable urges. Since marriage, Ominis had calmed in that sense. You lived together, so he had the ability to take his time and appreciate every inch of you. It was always about bringing you pleasure as many times as the night would allow. Tonight was a stark contrast to those gentle touches.

Before you knew it, he had your panties around your ankles and was telling you to sit on the counter that he had just cleaned. You hopped up as told, but your position still didn’t have his approval. His fingers hooked under your knees and yanked so that your ass slid across the counter until it was nearly hanging off the edge. He smirked at the feeling of your heated core bumping into his dress pants.

“Right there. Stay right there on the edge for me.” And then he was sinking to his knees. His hands held your inner thighs to keep you from trying to close them, not that you would have.

His mouth was everywhere except the one place you wanted it so desperately. Your clit ached for attention. It seemed like Ominis would be taking his sweet time with you after all. This was usually welcomed attention, but tonight, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You didn’t even need to finish yourself as long as he spilled inside of you.

But even though your mind didn’t need an orgasm, that didn’t mean your body wasn’t craving it. Your hips bucked slightly when his nose nearly brushed against your clit. His hands held you down on the counter as he chuckled. The vibration of his laugh made you quiver.

“Don’t fall off the counter, now. Twisting your ankle won’t get you out of taking my cock. I’d just lay you on the bed and elevate your foot with pillows before filling you up.”

“Ominis,” your voice came out like you were scolding him. He’s spoken dirty before, but never quite like that.

“Just today you admitted in this very kitchen that you push my buttons on purpose to get me to snap and bite you, yet I’m the one being told off. And for what? Making sure my wife’s hypothetical, hurt ankle would be taken care of before I give her the child she so desperately wants?”

“I- oh-,” You lost your train of thought as his lips brushed against your clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking. The feeling was too much after waiting for so long. You squirmed again, this time to get away. The feeling in the pit of your stomach always felt better releasing when things had been slow and steady. Now, you could feel the tension building alarmingly fast.

Ominis took your hips trying to move as a sign of your eagerness. His tongue lapped up your wetness that had started to seep out. Then, it dipped inside of you and his nose rubbed against your clit. Your hands were gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself from flying off.

Now you were saying his name like a prayer. Your breathy pleas were quite the opposite from how you had just scolded him a few moments ago. Hearing you pant and mumble his name made him smirk. You could feel the corner of his mouth rise slightly against you. That action was enough to send you over the edge, almost literally if Ominis hadn’t been holding you in place on the counter. He kept his tongue in place to feel you pulse around it, though he was careful not to overstimulate you and ruin your high. Only when the pulsations slowed to nearly an end did he pull back and stand up.

“Such a good girl for me. Coming on my tongue and sounding so sweet.” He kissed you with the taste of your juices still on his tongue. You hadn’t even dared to let go of the counter while Ominis got to work unbuttoning his own pants. “Was gonna wait to have you in the bedroom, but I don’t think I can.” And then, he was lined up at your entrance and pushing in.

His movements were slow as he took you in an all consuming kiss to distract you from the stretch. Normally, you could handle whatever Ominis threw at you. This time, you were sitting nearly upright because of how close Ominis held your for the kiss. The position made it hard to take him fully, at least in an enjoyable way. You tried leaning back, and while that did help things start to feel pleasurable, your hand had landed in a stick of butter. The plate clanked against the counter. You immediately cursed under your breath.

Ominis, having heard the plate, had the audacity to laugh at your demise. He pulled out and scolded you, “You aren’t making a mess of my clean kitchen, are you?”

“It seems like you’ll have to wait until we get to the bedroom after all, and now I’ve got to wash my hand as well!”

His hands didn’t leave you the entire time you stood at the sink to try and scrub away the slimy mess on your hand. Even while walking down the hallway his hands were at work taking off your shirt and throwing it who knows where. Needless to say, you were both naked by the time you made it to the bedroom.

Vibrations ran down your neck from his voice mumbling while his lips were against your skin. “Lay on the bed.”

You had expected his hands to be all over you again the moment your back landed on the mattress. Instead, Ominis felt around for the pillows at the head of the bed. He tapped your hip. “Lift up.”

It was hard to deny his odd request because of how deeply you loved when he got a bit bossy like this. You lifted your bum so that he could slide a few pillows under you. The gesture seemed sweet, but entirely unnecessary. You’d been married for nearly nine years now, it wasn’t like you were delicate in the bedroom.

“You’re very sweet, my love, but I don’t need this to be comfortable. You won’t break me.”

Ominis stilled. His hand rested on your thigh. It looked as though he was debating something. “It’s not… for your comfort.”

“Then why are you- oh.” You swallowed your words when it set in. Your hips were high in the air like this. Gravity would make the mess Ominis was about to make stay inside you instead of seeping out.

“But are you comfortable like this?” Ominis ran his hand from your hip to your breast. His hand squeezing around you was faint and soft, more akin to a tender caress instead of anything overtly sexual.

“Yes,” you earnestly answered.

“You might have to stay like this for quite some time,” Ominis leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “Can you handle that?”

You nodded, then felt stupid before replying verbally, “I’m comfortable like this. I can stay as long as you think it’s necessary for it to… set in.”

His hand moved from your breast to lay over your heartbeat for a moment. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. “Your heart is racing.”

“I might be a bit excited.”

“Oh yeah?” Both his hands smoothed down your body until they rested on your hips. He got on his knees between your legs. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” His thumb messily rubbed over your clit then dipped down between your folds to feel the sticky arousal that had been leaking out of you since the kitchen. There wasn’t much of a rhythm to his movements because he was just wetting his hand so that he could lubricate himself, but still, his hand touching you there in any capacity made your breathing pick up.

You were mumbling his name all desperate and breathy. Ominis chuckled at how needy you sounded. Giving you what you were begging for, he lined himself up, which caused you to whimper even more because his tip dragged across your clit a few times before he found your entrance. As he started to sink in, you sighed in relief. This angle was much better than sitting on the counter. With surprising ease, he nearly bottomed out. There was just a pinch of tightness that made him still for a moment.

His lips were leaving tender kisses across your chest and neck while he let you adjust to the feeling. You were mumbling into his neck for him to move, to take you. Your neediness made him want to give in to those desires, but Ominis wanted to memorize everything about this moment. The smell of sweat and sex in the air was absolutely vile, but incredibly mouthwatering all the same. He could go deeper than he ever had before at this angle, but that area felt tight around his tip. Ominis pulled out slightly and thrust back in slowly, being careful not to go too far and hurt you.

“More,” you were begging, nearly crying in the crook of his shoulder.

Not being able to deny you a second longer, Ominis started to thrust his hips. It wasn’t shallow, but he still wouldn’t let himself go further than the two of you were used to. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails lightly skimmed across his shoulders. He shivered and his hips stuttered unevenly, accidentally driving deeper into you. Immediately, Ominis pulled back and whispered an apology in your ear, but you held tighter onto him.

“Again, do it again.”

A tentative hand brushed the hair off your forehead so Ominis could kiss it. He pushed in deeper, but deliberately slow so he could listen for any signs of discomfort. His thumb found your clit again, hoping to give you a bit of pleasure to combat the fullness. The second his thumb grazed over you, your walls convulsed around his cock and your body shook erratically.

Ominis felt his own waves of pleasure building. On instinct, he tried to pull out to finish on your stomach. Your thighs wrapped around his waist to hold him in place.

“Please, come inside me. I want to make you a daddy.”

Your words made the tips of his ears go red. But now that he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he remembered the whole point of the evening, why he had made you rest your hips on a pile of pillows, and why he was able to reach this deep inside you in the first place.

“Stop me if it hurts,” was all the warning Ominis could give before his hips started to rut against you, hitting as deep as his length would allow with every feverish thrust. His pelvis was hitting your clit each time, Turning you right back into a moaning mess beneath him.

“There, right there.”

His breath was hot and heavy on your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my seed, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you just like this twice a day with your hips all high and willing to take me until we find out it worked. And then, I’m going to keep coming in you every night after to celebrate. I’ll fill you up so good, that we won’t know if it’s my come or my child growing in you that’s making you bigger.”

Talking dirty wasn’t new for Ominis, but it was rarely obscene and never, ever like this. That with how deep and fast he was fucking you made you speechless, breathless, thoughtless. You couldn’t even see straight, so you just held onto him for dear life and panted, but no breath was deep enough to fill your lungs or call you down. The tension in your entire body builds to the point that your leg was cramping. You wrapped it around Omni’s leg just to ease the pressure, but Ominis saw that as you wanting him to go harder.

So he did. His hips snapped into you hysterically. You cried out in ecstasy as another orgasm hit you like a train.

His hips faltered and he groaned as he came while your walls relentlessly milked his cock. You couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. Feeling his warm spurts of come paint your walls and add pressure made your intense waves of pleasure drag out. Ominis was on his elbows and panting, his lips right above yours. You already couldn’t breathe, but you pulled him down for a kiss regardless.

“I love you,” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss. “Was that okay? Are you hurting? Should I get you a-“

Ominis had started to move, but your arms wrapped tighter around him and your walls clenched around his length. “Don’t move yet. Stay. Just stay.”

Seeming to understand and reciprocate your need to be close, Ominis rested on an elbow and then used his other hand to caress your body as if you were made of glass. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”

The two of you laid like that for a while just playing with each other’s hair and whispering sweet nothings. Soon, Ominis started to get hard again inside of you. He slyly shifted his hips, but his excuse of getting more comfortable didn’t work on you.

“Ominis,” you whined in an exhausted tone. How was he ready to go again!?

His kisses on your neck paused while he laughed against your skin. “Well, I did say twice a day until we’re certain, didn’t I?”

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: werewolves

Want your monsters a little hairier? Then this list is for you! Whether you prefer your werewolf books fantasy, horror, slice of life, or romance, this list has a something for everyone (especially if you want your werewolves queer!)

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lobizona (Wolves of No World series) by Romina Garber

Young adult. As an undocumented immigrant, Manu has been told her existence is illegal. When her mother is arrested by ICE, Manu is left alone, and decides to seek out the only connection she has left: her dead father's criminal connections. Here she finds a secret underworld of Argentinian folklore, where a seventh daughter is a bruja and a seventh son is a lobizón - a werewolf. But as Manu understands more about who and what she is, she comes to realize her self is seen as forbidden in more ways than one, and that she will have to fight for her way to exist. Tackles heavy subjects in a more lighthearted magic school setting.

Empire of Wild by Cherie Dimaline

Horror. Nearly a year ago, Joan's husband Victor disappeared seemingly into thin air. That is, until Joan stumbles across a revival tent where the local Métis have gathered to listen to the charismatic preacher Eugene Wolff - a man with Victor's face. But when she faces him, he doesn't recognize her at all, claiming his mission is only to spread the word of Jesus. Only, that is far from all he's doing. Now Joan must find out the truth of what happened to her husband.

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Young adult. Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed when the fallout from lyme disease puts her back, making her question if she'll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid's condition is a bit hairier than she expected.

Santa Olivia (Santa Olivia duology) by Jacqueline Carey*

Is this werewolf fiction? Technically not. It's sci-fi more than fantasy or horror, with a plot reminiscent of superhero stories. It follows Loup Garron, a young girl growing up in Santa Olivia, an isolated town by the border between the US and Mexico, where the inhabitants aren't allowed to leave. Loup is the daughter of a "Wolf Man", a soldier enhanced with wolven traits which she have now inherited, allowing her to take a stand against the soldiers keeping her small home town oppressed. Also features a main f/f couple!

A Wolf Steps in Blood by Tamara Jerée*

Novella, lesbian soulmate romance. Red wolves went extinct in Alabama long ago - except for the ancestors of Yasmine's family, who were saved by witches putting a spell on them, allowing them to take human form to hide. Now, that spell is growing weaker, and Yasmine is struggling for control with her wolf. When a chance encounter with the exiled blood witch Kalta reveals the two to be not only fated mates but also the possible answer to the pack's struggles, Yasmine and Kalta both must work together to overcome the grief in their hearts and save their families.

Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones

Horror. A coming-of-age story following a boy and his aunt Libby and uncle Darren, living on the road and staying outside the law. They're all outsiders, but Libby and Darren are mongrels, mixedbloods, werewolves waiting to see if their nephew is like them or not. The boy, meanwhile, must decide if the wandering life of his family is for him, or if he belongs somewhere else.

How to Be a Werewolf by Shawn Lenore*

Graphic novel, available as printed or webcomic. Malaya was bitten by a wolf as a child, and ever since she has lived an isolated life with her family, working in their coffee shop and fearing she will lose control of her wolf side. Having never met another werewolf, Malaya knows little of what she is - until she meets a stranger claiming to be like her, and that she's far from alone. But the more she gets involved with other werewolves, the more she also gets dragged into the dangerous conflicts between packs.

Artie and the Wolf Moon by Olivia Stephens

Middle grade graphic novel. One night, young Artie witnesses something incredible - her own mother turning into a wolf. She finds out she's from a lineage of werewolves, and to help her awaken her abilities her mother invites family friends who are like them. A new world opens up for Artie, but so do dark secrets: werewolves have a deadly enemy, and it's coming back for them.

Bored Gay Werewolf by Tony Santorella

Brian is a slacker, having dropped out from college, working as a waiter, and spending his nights drinking with his friends - except the nights when he turns into a werewolf, of course. But after having slipped and killed a jogger, Brian is noticed by fellow werewolf Tyler, who's working on a self-help startup for werewolves and offers to mentor Brian. At first Tyler's methods helps Brian get back on his feet, but the more he learns of Tyler's expansion plans, the more he realizes he might be bad news. A good read if you want a funny, goofy take down of toxic masculinity that doesn't take itself very seriously.

Such Sharp Teeth by Kim Harrison*

When her pregnant twin sister is left by her boyfriend, Rory decides to go back to her home town and stay with her for a time. But the town is also the home of old childhood trauma, and something wild is roaming the woods. When she gets attacked and mauled one night, Rory's successful life is changed forever. Lycanthropy used as a metaphor for female rage, trauma, and bad coping mechanisms.

What Big Teeth by Rose Szabo

Young adult horror. It's been years since Eleanor Zarrin last saw her family, having been sent away to boarding school when she was little. But after a bloody misstep, Eleanor must flee the school and return home to her family's manor. Here she's reminded of her family's darker side, and that she has never been able to run and hunt in the woods alongside them. But in a family of wolves Eleanor is something else - and even more dangerous.

Red Hood by Elana K. Arnold

Young adult horror. A take on the little red riding hood tale where the girl is both the victim of the wolf and the huntsman who slays it. After a particularly embarrassing incident, young Bisou flees into the woods, only to be faced with a predatory wolf. To her shock, their face-off ends with the wolf dead, not Bisou. Even more shocking: the dead wolf turns into a boy. Suddenly, Bisou finds herself a hunter and a protector, routing out the wolves who masquerade as boys. Visceral and bloody, but pretty feminism 101 in its portrayal.

Fear the Wolf by Stefanie Gilmour

Urban fantasy. Alex never wanted to be a werewolf, but when a latent gene was triggered by a traumatic event, causing her to shift, she had no choice but to accept her new reality. Now she stays under the radar, avoiding other werewolves as she tries to keep a job and keep her temper under control, fearing that she will be discovered or even hurt someone. The only person outside her family who knows her secret is Emma, a wizard and Alex's closest friend. But when Emma gets a new boyfriend and starts acting strangely at the same time as attacks and disappearances of supernatural citizens are on the rise, Alex might have no other choice but to get involved in the local werewolf community to fight back.

Kitty and the Midnight Hour by Carrie Vaughn

Urban fantasy. Kitty Norville is a midnight radio host and a werewolf, having been turned after a traumatic attack. Stuck in an abusive pack, Kitty needs an outlet, and decides to use her radio midnight hour to speak about the supernatural. Soon others like her are calling in, seeking advice, and Kitty's life is looking up - but in drawing attention to the supernatural, she has also put a target on her back, and someone wants to make her shut up, no matter what.

No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull

When Laina's brother gets shot and killed, a video recording the incident reveals something shocking: a giant wolf which, when shot, turns into a naked man. The video gets leaked, and little by little monsters start coming out into the open. But there’s a reason monsters have decided to step put of hiding, something otherworldly and far more dangerous than them. Follows a large cast of characters, among them members of a werewolf pack.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

Rules for Werewolves by Kirk Lynn

A story told entirely in dialogue, Rules For Werewolves follows a group of young outsiders, drifting from place to place and squatting in empty suburban houses as they try to build a life in a world that has no room for them,

Howl by Shaun David Hutchinson

Young adult. New kid in town, Virgil Knox, has been attacked by a monster. Only, no one believes it was actually a monster, insisting it must've been a bear. But Virgil knows it was really a monster, and now he fears that it will come back for him - or that he will become one himself.

The Devourers by Indra Das

In Kolkata, India, college professor Alok encounters a mysterious stranger who tells him a story of a race of people at once man and beast, and a wanderer in 17th century Mughal who is torn between two worlds.

Thor by Wayne Smith

Thor the German Shepherd is devoted to his suburban family, and when Uncle Ted comes to live with his family, that devotion is put to the test. For Ted is no longer human, and Thor can sense that there is something dark and dangerous hiding inside him, something which he must keep his family safe from.

Wild by Meghan O'Brien

Selene leads a lonely life, avoiding forming close relationships to keep herself and others safe as she turns into a remorseless wolf creature every full moon. Eve is a forensic pathologist who has sworn off romantic relationships after having had an ex cheat on her, focusing instead on catching murderers. But when a masked man attacks Eve and Selene comes to her rescue, the two become unavoidably intertwined as a monster even more dangerous than Selene stalks the streets.

Wolfsong by T.J. Klune

Ox Matheson's neighbors, the Bennett family, aren't ordinary people: they're shapeshifters, able to turn into wolves. Intrigued by their lifestyle, Ox becomes close to the youngest son, Joe. But when murder comes to town, Joe ends up leaving, and won't return until years later. Now adults, the feelings between them can't be denied any longer.

[nctinkverse]

Promissa Redux - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Despite sharing a year-long relationship with your current boyfriend, an overwhelming fear prevents you from allowing him to bond with your daughter. The upcoming birthday party of your ex-husband, Jaehyun, adds a layer of complexity when you discover he has a new girlfriend and of course it's Valentine's Day.

The night unfolds with a delicate balance of humor and tension as you interact with Jaehyun's friends, attempting to maintain composure in the midst of emotional complexities. The story delves into the intricacies of co-parenting, the lingering shadows of past relationships, and the poignant journey of rediscovering love.

Warnings: minnors do not interact!, for this chapter we've got angst, sooo much angst and fluf.

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Word count: 3.558

Unauthorized copying or translation of this work is strictly prohibited.

----------- Preview, warnings and Chapter 1 --------------------

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Chapter 2 - Valentine's Day

You were dating the same guy for almost a year, he knows your child, but out of fear you never made the effort to get them to get along.

There was always a voice in your head that didn’t let you make them spent more time together, it’s always the knowledge that abuse also comes from we trust, and you never dared to expose your daughter to other man without your supervision.

What type of mom would you be if you let anything bad happen to her just because you wanted a dating life?

That fear was bigger than any of your dreams of marring again.

For you, finding love once in a lifetime was already more than you could ask for.

So, ever since you found the ring box on the floor, fear has gnawed you so bad that you’ve been giving your boyfriend excuses for not seeing him for the past two weeks.

You can’t put it all on Nari, there’s a bit of fear on being in love again.

As much as you have tangled yourself with other man, you always compare them to Jaehyun, it’s a mistake and you know it.

But you can’t help it, not when Jaehyun was your biggest love of all.

And since 14 of February was in just two days, you were on your penthouse floor with your daughter, trying to contain the mess of the photobook slash scrapbook that became your birthday gift tradition to Jaehyun.

It all started when you got divorced and as always, giving presents to someone who has everything they want, is hard, so giving presents to Jaehyun was a hard thing too.

The photobook was born of your idea of giving Jae, something of his daughter, he was still an idol back then, and his contract didn’t allowed him to have more time with his daughter, so he kept missing big events, the first time she let her entire popsicle melt while looking at the ferries wheels, or her look of wonder when you took her on a small trip to an aquarium in Japan.

So your scrapbook was full of pictures of Nari, and little stories about all the messes she made the day that picture was taken.

But as much as you didn’t hate him, being at his birthday’s was always a tad bit weird…his group mates who you had also worked with back when you were still working for SM Entertainment, treated you the same as always, big hugs and treating your daughter as their own niece.

Other people, the people who were only acquainted with Jaehyun after he divorced you, were always kind of suspicious of your good relationship or did try to probe into your personal life.

You never assumed you were invited so you always waited for the invitation to arrive or for his mum to say something…maybe one day he wouldn’t want you there and you had to respect if one day he didn’t.

This year, though, you knew it would be different when Mama Jung called you a few days ago…

“Are you coming to his birthday this year?”

“Am I invited?”

“Nonsense, you know you are.”

“Okay so I guess…”

“He has a girlfriend.” She interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Oh…ok.” You knew about it already; Nari told you about her dad new girl friend.

“Do you really want to come my dear?”

“Does he want me there?”

“Of course, he does…”

You cut her “If he does, please ask him to call me…I know you will say anything to please me Mama, but he won’t lie, and I need to know if he wants me there…”

After that she said OK, and you both hang up.

It wasn’t until almost midnight that same day that Jaehyun called.

“My mom said you’re not sure you’re going to my birthday party…did I do-”

You promptly interrupted.

“You did nothing wrong Jaehyun, it’s just…you mother told me about you girlfriend, and I haven’t met her, so I don’t want it to be weird… I mean it’s your birthday.”

“No Y/N, it won’t be the same without you there and Yeri knows about you…I just never introduced you guys because I didn’t-”

“Jaehyun, I don’t mind really it’s just… do you want me there?”

“I need you there, Y/N”.

“Then that’s all I need to know, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

And that was about it, you were going.

It wasn’t the first time Jaehyun had a girlfriend, his relationships just never lasted enough to make it to his birthday’s you guessed, also a few years ago you thought he might ditch the whole birthday thing for a valentine’s date…but he never did.

He wanted to spend his birthdays with his daughter, he said once.

Even though his birthday parties were almost always full of family and friends he had to invite some of his co-workers, being an actor who worked almost always overseas, his birthdays were the times where he would also occasionally mingle with people from the Korean entertainment industry.

When you were still married, you didn’t mind it since you were in the industry yourself and some of the people you were familiar with or were a fan of their work, sometimes you knew more people than Jaehyun, since in most of the times, he was the idol, the singer and you were the one setting up agendas, coordinating the whole NCT media and press department.

But it became another thing entirely after you got divorced, most people would still assume you were married and refer to you as Mrs. Jung, other times you could pass by tables and hear whippers about the supposed motives for your divorce.

When the 14th of February approached again, you made sure to call Mrs. Jung and ask if she needed help for anything, she said everything was fine, just for you to show up on time with Nari.

---------

Still in your bedroom, pressing the snooze button on the alarm to remind you to leave on time, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. You bought a new dress, a new clutch, but still wore the same YSL stilettos you purchased with one of your first SM salaries. They were your favorite ones; they could be old-fashioned by now, but they made you feel beautiful and provided the perfect height you needed.

“It’s time to go, be calm, breath”.

 You told your reflection in the mirror while taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves. Grabbing the wrapped scrapbook from your bed, you left your room to check if the nanny had successfully kept Nari dressed while you quickly had a bath and did your makeup.

You smiled in relief when you saw Nari still wearing her cute strawberry-printed dress she had chosen herself. She was going through a strawberry phase; last month, it was a Hello Kitty one.

She didn’t notice your presence at her room's door, as she was talking to the nanny when you entered.

Observing her cute dimples, nose scrunching up when the nanny tickled her, rosy cheeks, light pink in tone, brown eyes, and dark, straight brown hair you thought she looks so much like him. Yet, when she smiled, especially with all the dimples making appearances, she mostly resembled you, especially the way her giggles sounded and the way her eyes and lips curved.

She was the perfect mix of both of you.

Noticing you at the door, she made a run for your legs, yelling, 'Mommy, mommy, let’s go see Dad!' She was always excited about Jaehyun’s birthdays; he would parade her for everyone, and she loved hearing the compliments. True to her father’s behavior as a child, people always found her smart and cute.

As soon as you both arrived, you made sure to drop his present at the designated spot, where presents were already piled up, and then made your way to the ballroom, where tables, a piano, people, and food were usually present.

Upon seeing her father, Nari practically jumped from your arms into the ground, making a beeline for him. A few steps behind, you got to him just as he had gotten her in his arms, and a man close to him spoke.

“Oh, this is your daughter, no wonder she is so beautiful, look at her mom a perfect example of fine Korean blood” he said approvingly with his head turning towards Jaehyun and what you suspected was his girlfriend.

You stopped on your tracks, a step or two from them.

Jaehyun was the first one to notice you, and probably saw the watery line that was already formed on your eyes, beyond your control.

It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. But it still hurt.

Noticing that Jaehyun’s head had turned towards you, the man also turned.

“Oh an international nanny, that was very clever of you Jaehyun is she teaching your daughter English al-”

“She isn’t-” Jaehyun started to say still with eyes locked with yours. But Nari interrupted him.

“Mom, why are you crying?”

Diverting your eyes from his and landing on Nari you said:

“I’m not crying sweetheart.”

“But your eyes mommy”

“I know sweetheart it’s just the make-up.”

Nari was too clever and even though she didn’t say anything, she made grabby hands towards you. You approached the group and Jaehyun let her come to your arms.

Tucking her close to your heart, she crossed her little arms around your neck. You patted her back, and looked up to Jaehyun who even with you in heels was at least a head taller than you.

“Y/N-” He started with a soft tone, but it was no place or time for you two to talk so you just interrupted him.

“Happy Birthday Jaehyun.”

“Thank You, Y/N… this is Yeri…”

You gave Yeri a smile and a nod, and she gave it back. The man on the other hand did not seem ok.

“And this is Mr. Choi one of the presidents of MBC…Mr. Choi this is Y/N, Y/L/N, my daughter Nari, mom” he said firmly, his tone betraying a hint of anger

“I’m sorry I didn’t realized you had married someone who was not Korean, and your daughter looks so much like pure k”-

“My daughter is the most precious thing in my life she is the perfect combination of me and her mom, didn’t you see her big, beautiful eyes, she didn’t inherit that from me, I don’t dare to take the credit for her mom’s beauty.” Jaehyun cut him mid-sentence.

If angry was liquid, Jaehyun would be spilling over the man, it didn’t take much of you to realize it since Jae’s ears were bright red.

“Mrs. Jung!!!” You heard a familiar voice yell, Johnny of course, the only one who would still embarrass you with your ex-last name.

Yet, as much as he was annoying, you were grateful that he was approaching, you looked at him and he blinked, oh thank God, he probably noticed the whole situation.

“What are you still doing here Jaehyun…more guests have arrived, me included, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize me and Donghyuck are already here, but you didn’t. So, sorry Yeri, Mrs. Choi but I’m stealing those three.”

He said grabbing Jaehyun by the arms and making sure he was walking in front of him toward Hyuck, while grabbing you by the waist so you would unfreeze from your spot.

“I told you to not use the Mrs. Jung again John”.

“I know”

“Why do you use it?”

“To annoy you and Jaehyun, also, I think one day you might use it again” he said the last part on a whisper so Nari wouldn’t hear it.

You couldn’t do much, so you gave him a slight elbow punch to his stomach, being the exaggerated person that he was, he grabbed his belly in fake pain and looked at you with a pout.

Being 35 just like you, you couldn’t believe how much a dramatic ass Johnny could be.

You liked him, he just annoyed the shit out of you.

You three made a line for the table Hyuck was seated, Nari practically leaped to the younger Lee’s arms, she loved him, he was fool and let her get away with anything, he was putty in her hands. You talked for a while, but Jaehyun’s eyes were burning on your face, you could feel it.

When the conversation stopped, Jaehyun called your name.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Jaehyun.”

“Don’t lie.”

You breathed a long breath.

“Right now, I’m okay Jaehyun really, it’s not the first time…it just…gets to me more than I should let it get.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay, and I will be fine, go entertain your guests I’ll stay here with the guys if they don’t mind.”

Johnny had to butt in.

“Oh god we don’t mind it, actually, don’t think Doyoung’s wife would mind you keeping him safe from other woman, man that woman is OBSESSED, I don’t think she trusts any other woman with her man but shit, so much jealously if-”

“We know John!” Huck, you and Jaehyun said almost at the same time.

“Go Jaehyun I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, I will go.”

He turned but then turned towards you again.

“Where is my present!”

You laughed a bit.

“I just left it on the pile, don’t worry I haven’t forgot it.”

“Ok. Hum…can we open later, together as we always do?”

“Of course, Jaehyun.”

“Ok, I’m going”. This time he turned and went to entertain the other guests, later on his mom came to talk to you a bit, his dad left a small kiss on your forehead and carried Nari away.

Along the night you talked to the boys – yes, the boys from NCT127, all the 8 sitting at the same table, the chaos between shared stories and them drowning alcohol into their systems, Taeil talked about his wife, the latest recipes he learned, Johnny promptly jump in to ask when was going to be their next “family” dinner, Taeyong watched everything with a red neck because of the alcohol, his big black eyes focused on the conversation and talking a bit of sense to anyone’s crazy ideas for dinners or vocations.

Yuta was loud, talking about this rock concert he saw a few days ago, where the singer was an amazing vocalist, Doyoung said he wished he could also go to concerts with the guys but basically his wife didn’t trust his life in his friends’ hands, making an offended noise Jungwoo butted in claiming he had no idea why she said that since they were all responsible people.

Mark nodded, saying he had no idea why she thought that.

This time you butted in.

“Oh, please Mark, I do remember that time on a MV filming set where Jeno was on a dumpster lid and you told him to do back flips…you’re practically raised by Johnny, all of you are the perfect example of why man die first, just stupid.”

They all looked at you, offended of course.

Haechan was the first one to start the bickering.

“Watch most of us outlive you.”

“Of course, maybe 2 of you will.”

“I’ll outlive you.”

“Oh, please Johnny, if you manage that I might feel offended. I am outliving you at least by a few months since I’m younger.”

“Oh, please Y/N, you’ll probably die of boredom.”

“I will die of old age, and you will probably die while doing some weird shit.”

They all cracked up in a laugh, Johnny sometimes in the past was caught doing some hum, let’s say questionable things, nothing criminal, just, weird…but hey, not everyone’s got good tase.

And that’s how the rest of the party rolled for you.

It was already past midnight when you saw Jaehyun, go up the stairs with Nari in his arms. You quickly got up and followed up.

Nari had her own bedroom in her grandfather’s house, and her dad’s apartment as well.

Following close behind you opened your daughter room door, to find him tucking Nari in bed, you asked:

“She’s already asleep?”

“Yes, but she’s trying to stay up, so I brought her up, before she actually manages to kick her sleep away.”

She couldn’t even keep her eyes open; you watched while he covered her in the blankets and made sure her hands and feet weren’t out of the bed.

When Jaehyun finished, he got up and curved to give her a goodnight kiss on her head. You just looked at it, this is one of the many reasons even after everything, you still couldn’t regret any minute you had together, it was also times like these where you, missed your husband, your best friend.

You didn’t realize you were blocking the door, so Jaehyun touched your arm, it looked like he was whispering your name, so you let him guide you out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind you too, he asked:

“Can we open my present? Together like always?”

“Of course we can, but what about your guests?”

“Only my dad’s closest friends stayed plus the guys.”

“What about Yeri?”

“I sent her home with my driver. It’s been a long night.”

“Jaehyun…” You said disapprovingly.

“What?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“I know, but for me it’s just my birthday. She knows Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll go down to grab it, wait for me outside?”

“Sure.”

Walking down the other way toward the gardens in the winter chill, a consequence of wearing a dress, you admired the meticulously tended flowers by Mrs. Jung.

Footsteps approached, prompting you to turn. Jaehyun halted upon meeting your gaze, holding a wrapped photobook. His eyes, however, were fixed on the ground. Following his line of sight, you realized he was focused on your shoes.

You remembered just as something warm filled your body, you had sex with him, once, while wearing those shoes.

Shaking your head slightly, trying to erase the mental image of him railing you while you wore nothing but the black designer shoe with the YSL letters as part of the golden heel.

Coffing a little you tried to get Jaehyun’s attention, no doubt judging by the red tone on his ears he also remembers everything.

He looked up as if you had woken him. So, you said:

“Are we going to open your present or not?”

“Yeah sure.”

Following him to the swing like bench you sit down while he rips the paper with a smile on his face that remembers a lot like a kid on Christmas Day, you contain a laugh.

He opens and flips a few pages smile growing the more pictures he sees. Turning his body towards you he asks:

“Walk me through it?”

“Of course, Jae.”

Smiling, you get closer to him, grabbing the photobook and placing it on both of your legs. So, the story begins. The first page narrates a day at a park near your home with Nari. You swear, she stared at a little boy with brown hair and dimples, as if it were her first crush. It suddenly struck you—maybe this was her first crush.

Jaehyun frowned a bit, making a bit of a sour face at mentions of a boy.

“She’s 5 Jaehyun, chill.”

“I know, but tell me did the boy was nice to her or looked at her with cute eyes too?”

“He was nice to her, even let her play with one of his toys when she made a crying face.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Laughing you asked:

“Why is that?”

“Our daughter is beautiful.”

“I know…” You said making question marks at him with your eyes.

“If he didn’t like her too, he would be a fool.”

“Jaehyun?”

“Yes”

“That was cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m not cute, Y/N.”

“Still, it was.”

Letting out a playful huff he finally gave in.

“Fine, it was. Now, moving on to the next page.”

Smiling you kept telling to Jaehyun the stories behind the pictures and little notes on the photobook slash scrapbook. You both laughed a lot about how cute and smart Jung Nari is.

Upon finishing the last page, he turned his full body, legs still touching. It felt uncomfortably close. Before anything could be said, his hand reached out, gently tucking the strands of hair behind your ear.

Chills went up your arms, he noticed too, but mistook for cold, so you watched as he took out his suit out and wrapped it on your arms and shoulders. You still couldn’t muster words, so you let out a small thank you under your breath.

When you raised your eyes up to his, he was looking at you with so many emotions locked in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“Hum?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

You saw him getting closer but couldn’t manage to move. Even if you could, you weren’t sure in which direction you would move.

One of his arms circled your back, landing on your waist. Pulling you close, he held your head with his other hand carefully while he kissed your forehead. Breathing you in and out, he started:

“Y/N, I-”

“I know Jaehyun, I know.”

And you knew, but you couldn’t let him say it.

Next Chapter!

---------------

To everyone who has waited for this chapter since I promised to drop a few weeks ago, tysm for you patience, I hope it pays out the wait.

- Tessa 💚

Taglist:

@dulyrana @clblnz 💚

@electric-hearts @hyuukah @baeseungcheolie @girlinbangtan @johnbanana @fashion-addictedd @peachfulnight @angel63715 @daegalismybiasinnct @chloemargaret @phattyboo90 @oyasueme @peachfulnight

ps. there is some people I wasn't able to tag, so I will be sending the update on your DM, if you already read, pls ignore.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

HAPPY MONTH OF THE GAYS!!! | Hashira

Theme: uhm gay. (fluff w/ *slight* angst but ends in fluff)

Note: the last holiday was for the upm's so now we're doing the hashira<3 (as if I haven't only written the hashira for the past months 😭)

Ships (READ THIS BEFORE CONTINUING OR DONT COMPLAIN): SaneOba, RenGiyuu, ShinoMitsu, GenMui, Tengenxhis wives (bc they're poly!!!)

Gyomei is aroace :3

(MODERN AU!! ALL THEIR FAMILIES ARE ALIVE) —cw;; homophobia?? a slur??

×××

They had unanimously agreed to come out to their families in june. Well, unanimously might be a stretch, but in the end they had all decided to at least try. For some, they knew it would go perfectly fine and had only held back from not wanting to deal with conversation over something so intimate to themselves. For others, however, it was a bit... iffy, to say the least. Since most to all were dating someone (save for Gyomei who was AroAce), they decided that their partner(s) should be present in the event for emotional support (or more, depending on the reactions).

Mitsuri was the first, knowing full well her parents would be supportive as hell. They had always been throughout her whole life and she couldn't be more thankful of them. Shinobu went with her. A couple days ago, Mitsuri's family had invited Shinobu to dinner because she and Mitsuri were 'close friends,' which was convenient as they wouldn't need an excuse as to why Shinobu was there in the first place.

Mitsuri found herself nervous, catching some of the doubts of the others. Shinobu soothed her with an encouraging smile as they entered the house.

Mitsuri's parents instantly welcomed Shinobu and ushered the two to the table, the dinner already set. There was lively chatter for a bit as Mitsuri composed herself, shooting Shinobu a quick glance.

"Uhmm, can I say something?" she said abruptly.

Her parents looked up and nodded. Mitsuri's siblings were in a different room, playing to not bother Shinobu—though she had insisted she wouldn't mind.

"Okay. Ehm... Shinobu-San and I are dating." She spoke slowly, allowing the words to roll off her tongue. "And I'm Pan? Pansexual? So I'm... attracted to anyone, despite their gender—but mostly to Shinobu-San, she's the best," she concluded, with a grin.

Shinobu let out a breath, turning her head to hide her own smile.

Mitsuri's parents blinked and for a moment, they said nothing. Mitsuri fidgetted, her smile wavering. Then: "See, I told you there was something more!" her mother exclaimed exasperatedly, turning to her husband. "Now tell me I know our daughter better!"

Her father frowned. "But-"

"I do, don't I?"

"Eh??" Mitsuri looked from one parent to the other, confusion written all over her face. "Did you know already?"

"Oh!" They instantly turned back to her, offering a chorus of congratulations. "I wasn't certain, but I had a hunch," her mother explained. Then they had another welcome for Shinobu—but into the family, rather than the house.

Shinobu was touched at how quickly they had accepted her and deemed them excessively sweet as Mitsuri escorted her home. "I suppose that's where you get it from," she commented, kissing Mitsuri's cheek.

"Eh... You give me too much credit, Shinobu-san," Mitsuri said, her cheeks a pretty pink. She hugged her briefly. "I love you, bye bye!!"

"I'll text you when I get back home," Shinobu agreed, waving as she walked down the street.

×××

Tengen was next, though he only came out to his parents as a joke because there wasn't a single person in the world who didn't know about his wives.

He strolled into the living room, hands in his pockets and said proudly to his mother and father—"Guys, I'm poly, polyamorous, polysexual, whatever."

His father simply rolled his eyes. "You think I don't know? You told me last year, and the year before, and the year before that. And yesterday. And last week. I don't care."

Tengen grinned. "Yepp—anyway, I want you two to meet my wives."

"We arranged them to be your wives—we know them. We knew them before you met them!" his father retorted, growing irritated.

"Yeah, well, they changed. So you won't recognise them," Tengen said. On cue, his wives entered the room, stifling smiles as they stood by his side. "See? They're Hinatsuru, Suma, and Makio."

"They look the same," his mother commented, confused.

"They changed clothes," Tengen explained.

"I- I swear to fucking- Just... get out," his father sighed.

"But-"

"Out!!"

Tengen shrugged and he and his wives made their way out. "Thought you would like to know, though!!!" he called out, before closing the door.

His parents sighed and went back to what they had been doing.

×××

Kyojuro and Giyuu were next, both having families that were always supportive and on their side. Giyuu insisted they told Tsutako first, since she was only one person and it would be able to make them more confident to tell Kyojuro's family.

Tsutako guessed what was happening the second the two entered the room hand-in-hand, but she let them talk. "Do you need something? Is he staying over?" she inquired, putting down what she had been doing.

Giyuu fidgetted, suddenly nervous. He told Tsutako nearly everything, and he was wondering what she would think that he had hidden this from her. She probably suspected that he was gay—no doubt she knew—but he had never formally told her, so it felt like he was keeping a secret from her.

Kyojuro went straight into it, however, enthusiastic as always. "Hello, ma'am!! We wanted to tell you that we're dating!!" he said, squeezing Giyuu's hand gently. "We have been for a couple weeks now!! And I'm very happy that he likes me back, you know. He's the best!"

Tsutako smiled. "I'm happy to hear that."

Giyuu's head snapped up at her quick response. "Ehm... You aren't surprised?"

"Not necessarily. You two seemed rather close recently," she explained, walking over and taking his hand. "I'm glad you have each other."

"But... what about that I'm... attracted to men?" Giyuu mumbled.

Tsutako's thumb circled the back of his hand comfortingly. "I know you better than anyone, Giyuu. Maybe even better than yourself. I've noticed you seem to be drawn to boys more since you were, even, a child. That's been fairly obvious to me," she said.

"Ah! That's cool!!" Kyojuro exclaimed. He flashed a smile. "I'm pansexual!"

Tsutako smiled. "That's lovely!"

"Mhm!"

Giyuu blinked. "Why didn't you say anything about it, then?" he asked, going back to what she had said before.

"I figured you would tell me once you were ready. I didn't want to push you, or assume if I was wrong," she said. "Now, is he staying over or not?"

Giyuu glanced at Kyojuro. "If you don't mind? We're going to his house in a bit to tell his family first, though," he said.

"Of course. And yes, you can stay the night," she said, turning to Kyojuro. "Leave the door open a bit, though."

Giyuu frowned. "Why?"

She only gave him a sly smile before dropping his hand. "I'll get started on making lunch, you two better go off and do what you want to so that the food isn't cold by the time you get back."

"Okay!" Kyojuro said, tugging Giyuu's hand.

Giyuu shifted his hair to hide his flushed face as he was practically dragged out of the house.

Upon arriving at the Rengoku Household, there ended up being a lot of welcomes and chatter before they even got to the point. There was also a brief re-introduction of Giyuu to Kyojuro's parents in case they had forgotten who he was—which they hadn't.

Somehow noticing that there was something to be told, Ruka interrupted the conversation about Senjuro's age—Giyuu had commented that Senjuro looked older than he had remembered, which had lapsed in a recap about the past few months.

"Is there anything the two of you need to say?" she asked curiously. "I'm assuming you didn't come here for a quick visit."

"Oh! Yeah!" Kyojuro said, as if just remembering. "Me and Giyuu are dating, and we wanted you to know."

"Oh?" Shinjuro asked, eyeing Giyuu. "Does he treat you well?"

Giyuu shrank back at the stare but Kyojuro hugged him. "Mhm! He's the best! He does everything he can for me, even though he does too much sometimes," he said, laughing.

"Too much?" Shinjuro pressed, still giving Giyuu a side eye.

"He buys me things and spends too much money on me," Kyojuro explained. "I had to have him return various things because they cost waaay too much!"

"Oh. Okay," Shinjuro said. "Fine."

Ruka shot Shinjuro a quick glare before smiling at Kyojuro and Giyuu. "I'm glad to hear of this. Kyojuro did talk a lot about you, more than anyone else," she said, ruffling her son's hair.

Blush crept up Giyuu's cheeks. "Really?"

"Yes, and he seems quite the more happy around you. We—my husband and I—are both glad to hear of this," she said.

Shinjuro nodded quickly at the inflection in the word. "Yes. Glad."

Kyojuro grinned. "Great! I'm staying at Giyuu's tonight, also," he said, as an afterthought.

"What? N-" Shinjuro started, only for Ruka to talk over him.

"That's wonderful. Have fun, and don't be too much trouble to the Tomioka's," she said calmly, kissing Kyojuro's forehead.

"Thank you!"

Giyuu nodded. "Thank you," he echoed.

Ruka smiled.

×××

Sanemi and Obanai had perhaps been dating the longest, compared to the rest—save for Tengen. Which meant they had also been hiding their relationship for the longest. Which made sense, given that Sanemi's father could possibly be the most homophobic piece of shit ever—and that Obanai's family was anything but supportive. So it made sense for them to be weary of this. They had agreed, of course. But they ended up waiting till almost the end of June to say anything.

In the end, they told Sanemi's parents first. They knew, at least, that his mother would be supportive (she knew that Sanemi was gay, Kyogo did not). Of course, they told Shizu first. Genya and Muichiro hadn't spoken of their relationship to Genya's family yet (the Tokito's knew, though), and so they joined Sanemi and Obanai for the confession.

Shizu was curious as to why the four had approached her. She paused in folding the laundry, a shirt half-folded on her lap as she looked up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, we just wanted to tell you something," Sanemi said. Obanai hovered next to him, unsure what to do. Sanemi's hand slipped into Obanai's, their fingers intertwining.

Genya tilted his head to the side slightly, embarrassed. "Yeah."

"Mhm?" Shizu noticed the held hands but said nothing about it. They would tell her.

"Me and Genya are dating," Muichiro said abruptly, tugging on Genya's sleeve. "Pick me up," he said to him.

Genya sighed but crouched down. Muichiro clambered onto his back, resting his chin contently on his shoulder.

"Oh?" Shizu smiled. "That's nice. What's your name?"

"He's Muichiro Tokito," Genya responded.

"Right. He has a brother, right? A twin? I wasn't sure which it was," Shizu said.

"Yeah."

She turned to Sanemi and Obanai. "And you two?..."

"Ah, we're also dating," Sanemi said, his hand tightening slightly on Obanai's. "We haven't told Obanai's family yet, but Tokito's knows about Genya."

"I'm glad you could trust me with this," Shizu said gently, putting the laundry to the side and standing to kiss both her son's foreheads. "I hope telling Iguro's family goes okay."

Sanemi nodded. "I hope so too."

"You don't mind that I'm dating him?" Obanai asked quietly, his voice barely audible as he hid behind Sanemi. He was always nervous around women, though he preferred to not make it so obvious. But this was his boyfriend's mother for fuck's sake! He had the right to be even more timid!—as much as he hated to act like a fucking child in front of her, he found himself unable to help it.

Shizu shook her head. "Of course I don't mind. As long as Sanemi's happy with this, then it's fine. You take care of him well, yes?"

Obanai gave a quick nod. Sanemi let out a breath. "Mother- He's great. And yes, he makes me happy. He's endlessly better than father, too," he added.

Shizu nodded. "I just want to be cautious. I made many wrong decisions at your age..."

Genya glanced at her, then Sanemi, unsure if he should still be here.

Sanemi's free hand clamped onto Genya's arm, holding him there. Genya had to learn to make good decisions too.

"Don't worry," Obanai said slowly. "If I do anything that makes Sanemi uncomfortable, I'll gladly pitch myself off a- I mean- I'll... make amendments to it, I swear."

Shizu offered a smile. "There's no need for dying, but thank you. You seem like a lovely person and I know the two of you have been friends for a while as well, so I trust you. Forgive me for my doubts."

"It's fine. I understand," Obanai said.

Sanemi nodded. "Right. Want to tell your parents today?" he asked, letting go of Genya as he turned to Obanai.

"I don't know... I mean, sure? But I'm worried they'll ruin everything," Obanai admitted.

Genya took that as his cue to leave and, hoisting Muichiro higher on his waist, he gave a quick goodbye before heading up to his room.

"That's true."

"Are we telling your dad?" Obanai asked, hoping to stall.

Shizu frowned. "You're telling him? I don't know if that's the best idea."

Sanemi sighed. "Well, we can only hide it for so long. But you don't have to be there when I tell him," he said to Obanai. "It'll probably be best if you don't get stressed about anything before we tell your family."

"But won't it be harder on you?" Obanai asked.

"If you're telling your father, I want to be there," Shizu said. Something in her voice gave no room for argument.

"Fine, then," Sanemi said. "You stay here, Obanai. I'll tell him now to get over with it."

Obanai nodded. "Okay." He sat down on one of the cushions as Sanemi and Shizu went to Kyogo's room.

Wanting to stay on his relatively good side, Sanemi knocked before entering.

"I want to tell you something," he said, in response to the loud and irritated "what?!" that followed his knock.

There was a pause. Shizu took the moment to breathe slowly, preparing herself. The door opened.

"The fuck do you want?" Kyogo asked, eyeing Shizu before turning back to Sanemi. "It better be worth my time."

Sanemi bit back a retort and let out a slow breath. "Right. I have a boyfriend."

Kyogo took a second to process this. "Boyfriend? Boyfriend?" he clarified.

"Yes," Sanemi said impatiently. "That's what I said."

"You're a boy."

"I know." Sanemi forced down the urge to roll his eyes.

"You can't date- Are you-? God! I knew it. You raised a fucking disappointment!" Kyogo practically shouted, turning his attention to Shizu. "You were aaalways saying how I was bad at raising the children, so you tried taking over, yet look where it's got you! Here he is, delusional and dating boys. He has no chance growing into a man at this point. It's a wonder he's survived so long under your wing, in the first place. Now he's gone insane and it's all because of your inability to be reasonable and let me do the work. Women are always like this, did you know? Bitches like you should just die."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed. His patience had already been treaded on and it dispersed now. "Don't talk to her like that."

Shizu raised a hand to Sanemi, stopping him from saying anything more. She turned to Kyogo and, despite her size, she seemed to almost tower over him, fury over his insults towards Sanemi urging her to stand up. "Sanemi is not a disappointment. He will never be. He's not the delusional one, in fact you might be. If you can't see what a strong and kind and amazing man he's grown up to be, then it's clear who's the unreasonable one. You can't talk about him like that when we all know that he's a far better person than you could ever be," she said. She spoke firmly, her eyes fixed on his glare.

"Mother-"

Shizu shook her head and Sanemi fell quiet.

Kyogo spluttered for a response, not having expected her to talk back. She had never done it before. He hadn't anticipated that she would start now. "You- You woman!" he shouted pathetically. "As if you have any premonition of his future! You're just as bad as- as that fag," he spat. "Don't talk to me—either of you. I don't want to see your disgusting faces anymore. I've had enough with your nonsense."

The door was slammed in their faces. Sanemi grit his teeth, turning to Shizu. "Why didn't you let me talk to him?" he said, more angry at his father than his mother. He could never be mad at her.

"I didn't want him doing anything to you," she said with a sigh. "At the very least, I wanted to say something for once."

"Mother... I'm stronger now, okay? I can handle it fine," Sanemi assured her, his expression softening slightly. Then he brightened, offering her a smile. "But what you said was great. The look on his face—I should've taken a picture..."

Shizu laughed. "Why don't we go to your boyfriend now, hm? I'm sure he's worried," she said, taking Sanemi's hand.

Worried was an understatement, perhaps. Obanai had his knees tucked up, his chin dipping down and arms around his legs. He looked up immediately as they walked into the room. "I heard shouting," he explained.

Sanemi sighed, sitting down next to him and taking his hand. "Yeah, he'll probably get mad if he sees you here now. But he'll get over it. Also, Mother put him in his place," he said with a triumphant glint in his eye. He lifted Obanai's hand, kissing between his fingers. "We'll save your family for tomorrow, maybe. Sleep off any stress?"

Obanai nodded. "'kay. He didn't do anything besides shout, right?"

"Right," Sanemi agreed. "If he had, I probably would've taken the door off its hinges and hit him with it."

Shizu gave him a look of disapproval as she went back to her seat from earlier. "You can't do that," she said. "Your father is still dangerous. I have full faith in your strength, but he has a talent at getting his way, perhaps the only thing he's good at."

Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine. I'll try not to hit him with a door, then. Maybe something more effective like a hammer."

"Sanemi."

He grinned. "Sorry."

Obanai leaned on him. "Maybe we won't tell them."

"Hm?" Sanemi turned to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Your family?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't even want them in my life anymore. If we don't tell them, then maybe it'll be more... concrete. Leaving them? Like, it could be a start. It's not like I haven't thought about running away every second I spend in the house," Obanai said, closing his eyes. "I don't want to tell them. I don't want them to know about you and try to ruin it because you're the best thing that's happened to me."

Sanemi nodded slowly. "Alright. If you say so. If this is just doubt because of my father's reaction, then—"

"No, it's not that. I was thinking about this before and I just... Is it alright for you, though?" Obanai asked, looking up.

"Of course. Whatever you want," Sanemi said, smiling reassuringly.

Shizu wore a smile of her own as she spoke. "How would you like to stay over tonight? I'm sure we could arrange some more room in Sanemi's bedroom. I'll make sure Kyogo stays out of your way," she said.

Obanai glanced at her. "Could I?"

Sanemi nodded. "Well, if she says it's fine, then it's fine. And yeah—I'll seriously punch his face if he tries to do anything to you."

Obanai laughed. "Noted."

"Alright, let's go get you another pillow. I'm sure we could steal one of my brother's. Shūya likes hoarding all of them, he should have plenty."

×××

« Word count: 3255 »

this was unnecessarily long

and i have literally no idea what the hell I wrote so we pretend this isn't shitty? yes?, ok, love you all<3 happy pride month!!!

[alxndryngs]

So I saw your post about taking some RE8 requests. Can I please have our favorite lady, Alcina Dimitrescu walking in to find her maiden crying/upset about being made fun of by the other maids for being chubby? I need the assurance that only a 9'6" woman is capable of.

Absolutely! I'm a chubby gal myself and boy don't we need that 9"6 Lady hahaha

---------------

Aphrodite's Batch of Roses

Alcinas day had gone smoothly so far. For once, her daughters were behaving, the newest wine shipment had just been made that she had spent weeks preparing for, and lunch had been one of her favourite dishes.

The past week had been quite chaotic. Her girls never let her get off her feet and eventually Alcina did have enough. Once they were all sat at the dinner table yesterday, Alcina told them how truly exhausted she was and explained that them misbehaving did not contribute to that in any way.

The girls felt bad at an instant for their behaviour and promised their mother at least one day without them causing trouble.

And that day was today.

With a glass of wine, not Sanguis Virginis, but wine, she made her way to her atelier. She had been feeling quite artistic as of late and with todays silence she decided it would be a good time to start another project.

But what size canvas would she use? Oil or acrylic paint? Which brushes? Hard or soft? What would she even paint? Surely all the naked women paintings were nice to look at, but there were a few too many scattered across the castles walls.

Her peace of mind, however, was destroyed once she entered the sacred room and heard the heartbeat lingering about.

An annoyed scowl settled on her face as she groaned, looking around the room to find the culprit who had entered her atelier.

Every maiden in the castle knew that the atelier was off limits. The only one allowed inside, even if that, was Lady Dimitrescu's former personal maiden who had passed a few years ago. Ever since then its been only her inside the room. Last time she found an intruder inside, she cut off her hands and said.

"So you can not open doors you're not supposed to."

It was a particularly bad day for her at that, but oh well. Whats done is done.

"Show yourself, and I might spare you your hands, you little pest"

She hissed, all the calmness like washed away and replaced by pure annoyance. Her day had started so good! Why ruin it now!

The stutter in the persons heartbeat and voice caused her to nearly drop her glass once she noticed who it was. And once they stepped out, in what state they were in.

"I'm- My Lady I'm so sorry. I will l-eave right away."

She said, choking on her own tears as she began to fix her clothes from sitting on the floor.

Alcina stared at the little woman so hard she thought lasers might shoot out of her own eyes and through the woman's face.

Y/n muttered another stuttered apology while trying to not again burst into tears and make her situation with her lady even worse. Alcinas body turned as the maid passed her and walked to the door, but before she had a chance to leave, Alcinas hand wrapped around the young woman's arm and gently pulled her back.

Alcina cursed herself for not recognising that little heartbeat when she came in. She had listened to it quite a few times whilst she read or worked, finding this particular rhythm to be quite comforting. There was no fear when y/n worked, no worry to do something wrong. She was just focused on her task, and she was confident at that too.

The matriarch found herself reading at the same time you were a couple times. At first she had been worried when your heartbeat began slowing and just to check, she rushed to where she heard it coming from just to find you wrapped and surrounded in a pile of pillows and blankets in the library, so absorbed into the book you were reading that you didn't even hear your Lady come in.

After that, she reminded herself that whenever your heartbeat slowed, you were reading. And whenever it picked up for a few minutes, she couldn't help but quietly chuckle at the fact that you had probably gotten to a good part in the book.

She had gotten fond of you.

"Tell me," She said, placing her glass down on a small table before leaning down to your height. "Why are you crying in my atelier? You know no one is allowed to enter without my permission. And did you ask me if you may enter this room? No, I don't believe you did."

The leather of her glove was cold against your skin, your eyes eventually finding hers after Lady Dimitrescu wiped your tears for you.

"I know, my lady. That's why I'm here.. no one dares to bothers me in here."

You muttered quietly, embarrassed about the fact that this hadn't been your first trip to your lady's atelier.

Alcina felt a longer conversation come on, and she could definitely not bend down this entire time. She ordered for her maiden to sit on the ground, and to y/n's shock, the lady joined her on the floor.

"Why would someone bother you, y/n?"

You didn't hear your name come from your Lady often. But when you did, the sound burned itself into your ears for at least a few days.

Yet you didnt know where to start to answer her question. Sitting in silence, you tried to make up a start in your head. Alcina practically heard the wheels in your head turning as you thought. She sighed, cupping your tiny face in her large hands and making you look up at her properly.

"Y/n. Talk to me, that is an order."

Her voice was a lot firmer now. She originally did it as an attempt to show you that she was serious about this, but when she saw the new bunch of tears well up in your eyes, instant regret washed over her. Her stern expression dropped as she shook her head quickly.

"No no no, don't cry. Just tell me whats wrong, dulce servitoare"

You couldn't help but to start crying, looking up at your lady as she held your face in her hands. Leaning into her touch, she ended up pulling you into her lap and embrace.

Alcina didn't know what came over her in that moment, hugging a maid. But it felt like the right thing to do. She can curse herself for building a liking to you another time, but for now she had to find out what was going on.

Y/n sat in her lap and cried, cried her poor little human heart out on her lady's chest. And Alcina let her. Even caressed her back when she did, patiently waiting for her little maid to begin explaining.

"A few of the other maiden.." She began after a while, sniffling and rubbing her eye. "Well, they make fun of me from time to time and today it just bothered me a lot."

Alcinas head shot down to look at the woman in her arms, rage painted once across her face. Bullying?! In her castle?!

"They bully you?"

You nodded sheepishly, trying your best to just sink into her and disappear.

"Why."

The tone alone let you know it wasn't a question she was asking, you didn't have to look at her face to know that.

For as long as y/n had worked at the castle, which would be three years in a few months, there hadn't been a single case of someone being bullied. And now it was Alcinas new favourite maid?! She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but decided to get all the information she could get first before she went and cut out some tongues.

"Because I'm on.. well, the heavier side let's say. Dresses and gowns don't look too flattering on me my lady, they make fun of it."

Alcinas eyebrows knit together, so tight you could've thought it was a single one.

"They bully you because you weigh more? Because it makes you look different than them?"

Again, you nodded against her chest, able to hear the low growl rumbling in it somewhere as she kept it in.

Bullying because of someones appearance! She couldn't believe it. At once, she stood up with the maiden in her arms bridal style and carried her out of her atelier and down the hallway. No painting for today.

Y/n yelped when they suddenly stood up, holding onto her lady as good as she could.

"You know Y/n," She began, ducking under a few doorways as she walked through the castle. "I think you are the most beautiful maiden in this castle. Your looks are absolutely to die for, sometimes I find myself envying you even."

Your cheeks burned bright red as you laid in her arms. She envied you?

"Mmm, yes. You have a beautiful body and soul, draga. None of them can compare."

She set you down once you both had reached her garden, smiling down at you.

"Do you think Aphrodite looked like them? Thin and scrawny? No. She was a woman. She had strong thighs, belly rolls and maybe even a double chin." She chuckled, her heart making a small flip as she edged out a small chuckle out of you as well.

"You, my dear," She said softly, squatting down to your height and placing her hands on your shoulders. "Are my castles Aphrodite."

Your lip began trembling as tears once again burned in your eyes. No one had ever talked to you this way, and out of all people it was your own lady? You knew she spoke the truth, she hated liars.

Before you knew it, she had kneeled down and pulled you into another hug once again. Her large hand rubbed your back as you nuzzled into her shoulder, inhaling her scent and god she smelled lovely.

"You are absolutely magnificent y/n, don't let them tell you otherwise. I know what it's like. People back in my time, when I was still human, they never liked my looks. Not because I was heavy, no, but because of how I am proportioned. I was called countless names, some made me cry the way you have been crying. But I learned to love and embrace what they didn't like and how to make myself look good."

She pulled away, gently pushing you infront of her to take a good look at you.

"I will call my sister later today and we will get you some dresses that you feel comfortable in. Hm? How does that sound?"

She smiled, and so did you. Smiling from one ear to the other in fact. You quickly nodded at her words.

"It sounds fantastic, my lady."

Alcina pointed to a batch of black roses.

"Do you see that one rose that looks different than the others? It has more of a purplish hue.. the petals are bigger, more voluminous.." She drifted off, her eyes finding yours again as you nodded once more.

"Sometimes looking different and being bigger isn't a bad thing, draga mea. That rose is my favourite in the whole batch."

--------------

Word count: 1,850

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4k

chapter summary: Tommy is trapped in the tedious routine of life that he desperately wants to get out of.

warnings: male masturbation, thoughts of piv and oral, big brother issues, it is heavily implied that tommy has PTSD, tommy being a victim of morning wood

a/n: sorry for the long wait everyone! This chapter was a challenge because I do not feel confident in writing third person at all so hopefully, this turned out the way I hoped that it would! Thank you to the love of my life @pedrito-friskito for beta-reading & editing 💖💖💖

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

Gunpowder. All he can smell is gunpowder. 

Tommy sinks into the dirt, wet soil filling his mouth, eyes, ears. He’s drowning, but no one is slowing down to help him. He hears screams and gunshots. He sees one of his friends falling lifeless to the ground. Tears flood his eyes. He claws at the dirt, pulling himself back up. 

But he still feels as if he’s sinking. 

A bomb. Tanks. More screams. More dead bodies. 

It’s humid. His uniform sticks to him like a second skin. Another flash. Screams. He hears Joel. Tommy freezes. Joel isn’t supposed to be here. Joel is supposed to be home safe. Joel. He misses Joel. Misses his big brother who’s been looking out for him all this time. 

Tommy turns to him. He sees him on the front line. He’s not supposed to be here—He’s not—

A bullet whistles in the air, cutting his ear. He falls down, screaming. Another one sinks into his stomach, his arm, his chest. He cries. He can’t move. His legs don’t work. 

He stares at Joel but only sees his back.

Tommy jolts up from the bed. Sweat clings to his skin, a chill settling in his spine. His heart flutters in his chest; it hurts, it hurts to breathe. It’s gray outside, an ugly color that makes everything look slightly dusty. His chest heaves and he places a hand on top of his heart. He still feels afraid. Nightmares are nothing new, he’s woken up from many. However, seeing Joel has left a bad taste in his mouth. 

He kicks at the sheets and places his feet firmly on the floor. His eyes move to the small notebook that collects dust on his bedside table. He’s been told to write down his nightmares, especially the vivid ones. But honestly, why write down the very things he wants to forget? That therapist had no idea what they were talking about. 

“Fuckin’ stupid,” he grumbles while reaching out and grabbing the notebook. He flicks through the empty pages, he’s written down only his name, nothing else. A broken sigh falls from his lips and he throws it to the bed. 

Tommy doesn’t need to check the time to know that it’s 7 AM. He heads to the bathroom, stripping himself quickly, stepping into the shower. Baths have never really been his thing. Staying in the same place for too long still agitates him, makes his skin crawl. 

The warm water hitting his skin, he sighs. He stands still, allowing himself to enjoy the privilege he didn’t have a couple of years ago. Water feels good, be it cold, be it warm. Water droplets trickle down his body, rinsing the sweat of the nightmare. His face is relaxed as he stands under the pour. His entire body is at ease. Tommy doesn’t do much until his hair is wet throughout, then he reaches for the shampoo. 

He needs to pick up Joel and Sarah. After dropping Sarah to school, he and Joel have to pick up some supplies. His mind wanders to last night. He’d spent most of the night with Joel’s neighbor. It was a pleasant time. Tommy knew that he liked you the first moment he laid his eyes on you. You have something sad about you, something sweet. You're both the easiest and hardest person to read. Tommy is never quite sure what you want. 

The only thing he’s sure of is that you need a friend. And hopefully, he’s good at it. 

He also wants to get a few things to make your space cozier. Maybe a bean bag? A nice calming color to paint the walls— a light lavender perhaps? He knows you like purple. He’ll need Joel’s help with a couple of things, but Tommy doubts he’ll say no; his brother is as worried as he is after all. Tommy rinses his hair and drags the loofa across his body. 

You worry him. 

When he slides the loofa between his legs, he thinks of you. Your smell, your body, your smile. Fucking everything about you, he wants. You're funny, talented, and have enough self deprecation that made him feel less alone in the world. He entertains the idea that you might be into him, but maybe that’s a hopeful dream. The day Tommy attempted to kiss you…your eyes never left him after that. You looked scared, almost. A look he wasn’t pleased to see. 

It was easy to slip into the playful younger brother role. That was what people expected of him. You’d even said it. “It’s character.” You would know; you were the youngest as well. 

A shudder crawls up Tommy’s spine and he looks down. The warm water beats against the back of his neck, trickling down his back. He’s hard. Not fully erect, but hard enough that smoothing the loofa over it makes a tiny gasp fall from his lips. He repeats the motion, then brings the loofa up to his chest. After the water washes away the suds and dirt, he hangs the loofa to wrap a hand around his cock. 

He gives it a firm squeeze, toes curling against the smooth surface of the tub. He really should get it over it and not let his mind wander. However, Tommy can’t help it. He thinks about that night, but instead of you looking at him with unsure eyes, you look at him with lust. He kisses you, slow and soft, slipping his tongue between those lips he admires so much and licks the inside of your mouth. 

Tommy’s palm catches against the head of his cock, smearing the gathered precum across his shaft. He treats you tender and soft in his mind, but to himself—in the present—his strokes are hard and fast. It’s a force of habit really. Not much time to pleasure yourself in the army. 

He shakes his head, breathing out heavily through his nose. He doesn’t want to think about that. Tommy focuses on you. How you would get on her knees, pull down his pants and swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. You would have trouble taking the whole thing in, and he would help you through it. Whispering words of praise and encouragement as his hips stuttered forward, filling that pretty mouth inch by inch until you were swallowing him down. 

God, the sounds you would make for him, choking and moaning. Tommy’s thighs shake, cock throbbing beneath his palm. The skin above his stomach tingles, every muscle taut like a slingshot being pulled back, ready to take aim. 

“S-Shit.” He braces one hand against the slippery wall, eyes squeezed shut. The image of you on your knees fades into one more animalistic. He has you bent over the kitchen counter, fucking himself into you with the sink still running. 

His hips stutter into his own hand, his balls tight and full. In his mind, the drag of his cock makes your entire body quiver underneath, you beg him to move faster, harder. You're so fucking wet that he can’t hardly believe it, his cock dripping with your slick. 

Tommy comes with a cry, spurting onto the wall and spilling over his knuckles. He continues to stroke himself, albeit a bit softer now. His moans echo in the bathroom, most of it being drowned out by the running water. His eyes flutter closed, hips moving to meet his hand. It feels good. He’s missed feeling good. Feeling satisfied.

The pleasure continues to buzz in his veins, making him feel more alive than ever. Letting out one last breath, he moves away from the wall and allows the water to run down his chest, over his arms and hands. He’s a mess. That’s how he feels. 

And the worst part: he doesn’t feel like he can’t do anything about it. 

Tommy’s day begins. 

His eyes linger on her house as he drives past, parks in Joel’s driveway. Heading inside, he directly heads for the kitchen, where Sarah and Joel are already seated, eating. There’s music echoing from the radio, it’s been turned down but Tommy’s ears picks up on soft guitar. 

“What we havin’?” 

“Waffles and orange seeds, apparently,” Joel grumbles, eyes glued to Sarah, flicking a seed onto the table. “Would it kill you to be more careful with the juicer?” 

“Perhaps. Besides, you’re the one who insisted on freshly squeezed.” Sarah grins, a bit of waffle poking out from between her teeth. 

Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll just get somethin’ on the drive.” 

“No wastin’ time flirtin’ with the cashier, we can’t be late.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes. How long has it been since he flirted? Two months, maybe more, and Joel still freaking reminds him of it. “I’ll be quick, promise.” 

Joel gives him a nod but Tommy’s positive he doesn’t believe him; he never does. To Joel, Tommy never grew up. He was still that same snot-nosed kid that constantly needed his big brother to fend off the bullies. Apparently, the news that Tommy is now a grown man never reached Joel, which more often than not makes Tommy’s blood boil. 

Both Sarah and Joel get up at the same time, Sarah takes her father’s plate and puts the dishes into the sink. Joel heads upstairs. “I’ll be back in a sec,” he mutters, sounding agitated. 

Tommy contemplates going outside to smoke until he gets back but when Joel says a sec, it really does mean a sec. Sarah picks up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, she looks exactly like her mother with her hair loose. 

“Can I ask something?” she asks, and Tommy cocks his head to the side, nodding. “Could you come to school with me next week?” 

Tommy furrows his brow, confusion filling his head, “What for?” 

“Miss Crawford asked us to bring a family member that influenced us to school,” she states, smiling. “So, naturally, I thought of you.” 

“You—” he shakes his head. “You thought of me?” 

“Who else?” Sarah chuckles. “You’ve been around since I was a baby, Uncle Tommy, of course, you influenced me.” 

Joel comes down the stairs with loud steps, which he thinks is a blessing because Tommy has no idea how to reply to Sarah. He’s touched, to say the least. Never in his life would he think someone as brilliant as Sarah would be influenced by him, in whatever that meant. Tommy’s still staring at Sarah when Joel arrives, a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. He gives Tommy a weird look. 

“What are you lookin’ at?” he asks, and Tommy just shrugs. 

“What’s with the jacket?” 

“It’s windy,” he grumbles. “I wanted to try somethin’ out.” 

Sarah snorts, “Really, Dad? Leather?” 

“Shut up and get your bag. We’re droppin’ you off first.” 

“Why do you always say that as if we do it differently every day?” 

“Just get your bag.” 

The drive goes as smoothly as it usually does. Tommy stops by the gas station; him picking up an apple fritter for himself, a black coffee for Joel (he always ends up eating half of whatever Tommy buys), and strawberry milk for his favorite — and only — niece. 

Only half of Joel’s black coffee remains by the time they stop by the school. The fritter now only crumbs on Tommy’s lap, and the strawberry milk box crushed and stuffed into Sarah’s backpack. She hops off, reminding Tommy of when he needs to get to school for her presentation, as she leaves. Joel shoots him a confused look. 

“Presentation?”

“Ah, nothing important,” he mutters, turning the steering wheel. “The teachers asked her to bring someone that influenced her.” 

“Oh, that’s nice.” 

“It is.” 

There’s a minute brief of pause before Joel speaks again, “I need your help with work today—” 

“What?” 

Tommy fights the urge to hit the steering wheel, the insides of his palms itch for friction so he ends up just squeezing it instead. Joel sighs, head falling back, he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“M’sorry but there’s no way I can install the insulation on my own, you’re gonna need to help me.” 

“Joel, it’s my damn day off,” he grunts. “I have shit to do.” 

“Like?” 

“I wanted to check out some stuff I could buy for the room makeover— you know, the one I told you about?” 

Joel stills at his words, side-eyeing Tommy, and he sits up straighter. The younger Miller’s eyes are on the road but he can almost see a sad expression crossing the other’s face. He pushes the thoughts aside, he’s probably imagining it. 

“You were gonna do that today?” he asks, a strange warble to his voice. 

“Yeah.” 

“How ‘bout we get the things you need, then you help me? It won’t take long.” He swallows and rubs the pad of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. “And then you can go. It’ll take two hours tops,” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

Tommy should know by now to take his brother’s promises with a grain of salt. 

Of course they end up working until her shift is over, which means Tommy has to go pick you up and drive you home—well, he doesn’t have to, but he enjoys doing it, and the coffee house is on his route back. Initially, Tommy had been hoping to get to your place before your shift ended so they could start brainstorming before they got home. 

The turn signal blinks and the truck rumbles as he waits to turn. He has all the stuff for the room in the back; not a lot, just some paint he thought she might enjoy and a bean bag chair he thought would make a comfy seat. 

Joel apologized a million times, then promised to help with the room but Tommy isn’t so sure he wants his brother’s help anymore. He’s had a sour taste in his mouth after the whole day. He feels gross with the way his shirt clings to his skin with seat, and he’s just tired. Tired of everything. 

The light turns green. 

“Fuckin’ finally.” 

He’s anxious, hurting, and fully believes he does not belong. No matter what he does it never feels like he’s going any good. It’s the same routine, the same thing over and over again, day in and day out. Nothing ever changes. The world is still shit. His hands are tied. At this point he’s not even sure he’s doing any good by his family. He’s on the road of perpetual doubt and nothing else. 

But all of that—the hurt, the boredom, the helplessness—all of it vanishes when he sees you. 

You're out on the curb, looking down at your toes as you roll back to stand on your heels. It is windy out, which might be why you're hugging herself, the ends of your coat fluttering. 

Tommy honks two times and your face lights up, and so does his chest. He feels his cheeks aching from how wide his smile is, he pops the door open from the inside, you hurl herself in with a sigh. 

“I’m definitely not wearing the right clothes for this weather,” you murmur, the truck moving as soon as you shut the door. “Thanks for picking me up. How was your day?” 

His smile falters then. “It was…not that great, I guess. Sorry I couldn’t come by before your shift finished. Joel needed me.” 

“Hey, it’s fine,” you answer. You playfully hit the back of your hand to the side of his thigh. “It’s just a room, we can get to it later.” 

“Or tonight,” he says, eyes moving to you. “It’s still early, we can empty the room at least. And I have some stuff in the back I got for you.” 

“You got stuff for me?” 

A yellow light switches to red. Tommy shouldn’t have looked at you then, shouldn’t have seen the sparkle in your eyes, the red softening your features. Your smile is tired but wide. His heart skips a beat, and suddenly his head is filled with the same images he thought of in the shower. 

Tommy swallows thickly, the turn of his head strained as his hands anxiously stroke the steering wheel. You don’t notice. 

“I did,” he answers, sounding a bit breathless, jutting his thumb towards the trunk. “Not a lot, some paint, a bean bag chair.” 

You look over your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“You don’t like the bean chair?” 

“No, it’s not that,” you say slowly, the red turns green, he presses the gas. “I’m happy that you did. I just hate causing you trouble.” 

He laughs at that and shakes his head, he misses the way your eyebrows raise with surprise, “You could never be trouble,” he muses. “Not even if you tried.” 

The rest of the drive passes with pleasant conversation and you tell him that you're excited to spend Saturday night with Olivia. He smiles, nods, and jokingly asks if he can come and join girls' night. You punch his shoulder, saying that he can but he would have to wear a wig for the night. But despite the light conversation, Tommy feels incredibly antsy. An odd sensation of excitement eats at his stomach.

They carry the supplies and leave them in the living room, Tommy spots a blank canvas propped up on an easel as they head to the room. You follow him a minute later, both hands occupied with cold beer bottles and a bag of chips. 

“What color did you get?” you ask, handing him the bottle. 

“A very subtle lavender,” he adds. “At least that’s what the guy at the shop said, thought it would look nice.”  

“I love lavender.” 

“I thought you would,” he steps forward and looks around. “I guess we should start emptying the room.” 

The room has definitely seen better days. Every corner is thick with dust, the bookcase lined with more knick-knacks and photographs than books, more like a storage unit. He brings the cold bottle to his lips, picking up a picture from the middle shelf; a man and a woman on the beach, smiling, their toes dipped in the sand. You're next to him, cheek brushing against his shoulder. 

“My grandma and grandpa,” you explain. “I used to love that beach, we went almost every summer.” 

“Must’ve been fun.” 

“It was.” 

You take the picture and Tommy takes a gulp of his beer. He’s not good at handling others’ grief. He never knows what to do—hug them? Console them with words? Joel is much better at stuff like this. His older brother has a way about him that even if he does nothing, people still feel comforted. A gift, Tommy often thought. Joel, however, wouldn’t share the same sentiment. 

“Have you thought about what you want this room to be?” he asks, noticing a small-ish futon on the ground, pressed into the corner of the wall. 

“A studio would be nice. A space to paint, and read.” A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and Tommy’s stomach rolls. “Just a place to escape to basically.” 

“We all need someplace like that. You don’t need to feel bad about it.” 

You nod but Tommy is highly aware that his words have little effect. He takes another sip of his beer and puts it on the floor. You do the same, leaving him alone before returning with a few empty cardboard boxes. 

One by one, they fill the boxes, empty the room. Tommy asks about every object he touches; he asks for the attached memories, if you want to keep them or not. You don’t elaborate, just say keep or toss, keep or toss. As he places a book called New Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology in the ‘keep’ box, he suddenly realizes why. He doesn’t like talking about the pain either. That notion for some reason resonates in him, he feels closer.

Maybe he should start. Not today, but someday. 

The night grows darker, the outside eerily silent. The light of the room tires his eyes and he takes a mental note to buy something better later on, something much softer preferably—

“You were in the military, right?” you suddenly ask, and a chill settles in his spine. “What branch were you in?” 

“Ah.” He balks for a second, then he remembers to breathe. “Marine Corps. Infantry.” 

She nods, humming at his answer. “My brother’s in the Marines.” 

He’d forgotten about your stepbrother, the question makes more sense now. “He still with ’em?” 

“Yeah, we don’t see much of each other but I miss him. He’s going to visit, at least that’s what he keeps telling me. You two should meet, talk it out,” 

Tommy chuckles at that, he wipes the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Talk it out?” 

“I don’t know.” you grin. “Share stories and stuff,” 

“I’d love to meet him.” He leans down and scoops his — now warm — beer bottle off the floor. Bravely, he takes a sip. You look around, pushing one of the boxes with your foot. 

“We’re almost done.” you fall to the futon, crossing your legs as you shimmy back into the wall. “Let’s rest a sec. Sit.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

When he sits, your head falls on top of his shoulder. Both of them stare at the empty bookcase, the wallpaper now looking more worn out, torn at the edges. 

“I worry about my brother,” you mutter. “How does Joel deal with all the worrying? Any ideas?” 

A chuckle vibrates in the back of his throat. “Joel ain’t worrying about me. You’ll have to ask someone else, sweetheart.” 

“Believe me, he does worry about you,” you answer as if stating the most obvious. “You’re his little brother; he’s always going to be worried about you.” 

The room falls silent after that. Tommy has no idea what to say to that, his chest feels heavy, his breathing nearly nonexistent, while your breathing is slow, steady. Your head is still on his shoulder. He’s highly aware that you're about to sleep. Your limbs go slack, eyes fluttering closed. Tommy slowly turns his head toward you, it takes everything in him not to brush his lips across your forehead. 

“You should go to bed,” he murmurs. “Come on, now. I’ll get out of your hair.” 

Much to his surprise, you stir and shake your head. “Too tired,” you slur, voice thick with sleep. “Let’s just stay here. What does it matter?” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

He slowly lays you down on to the futon, quickly following suit after switching the lights off. When he lays down, he’s uncomfortable. There’s nothing to cover himself with, the door is wide open, the dark hall taunting him. He can’t sleep. But of course, Tommy can’t tell you that. You're already cuddled into a ball, your back turned to him as soft snores begin to slip out your lips. 

Tommy listens. That’s all he can do. 

The dark taunts him.

Tommy wakes up with a buzz coming from his pocket. He blinks himself awake, he smells you first, then remembers where he is. His one arm is tucked under you while the other hangs loosely over your bare waist. 

Tommy’s eyes go wide, panic flooding his heart. You're so close, body pressed up against his. He fights the urge to clear his throat, and the urge to come closer. He’s absolutely horrified when you move, your backside brushing up against his cock. 

Shit. He’s hard as a rock. Fucking hell.

The buzz gets louder with every passing second. Tommy carefully peels himself away. As he lays on his back, he adjust himself so his situation isn’t totally obvious. With a silent groan, he tugs his phone out of his jeans and presses it to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

“Tommy,” Joel’s modulated voice echoes. “Where the hell are you? We’re late.” 

He groans, you're starting to wake up as well, a small moan falling from her lips. 

“Sorry,” Tommy answers. “I’m next door. I’ll be right there.” 

A moment of awkward silence is felt through the phone. Tommy’s eyebrows knit together; what the hell is that all about? 

“A’right,” Joel finally says. “Don’t keep me waitin’.” 

The line cuts off.

Another day begins. 

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Annniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard: Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 04

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 4

(continuation of events 2 years ago.......)

The next morning after breakfast Arnav went to the Malik haveli to meet Anjali. She was 5 years younger than him. When their parents died, she was only seven, It might be the reason why she still held an optimistic view of the cruel world, and still believed in fairy tales and happily ever afters. Arnav wanted her to have that, even if he couldn't hold that same outlook.

As soon as he entered the Malik haveli, Anjali rushed to him and Arnav too happy to see his younger sister picked her up and gave her a twirl just like he used to do when she was a child. Setting her up on her feet, he noticed the scowling eyes that were trained toward him. He approached her slowly and bent to touch her feet. "Namaste naniji, how are you?"

Suvadra Malik, instead of answering her grandson turned her head sideways. Sensing the atmosphere turning heavy, Arnav asked "Where's Mamaji Anjali? Is he home?"

"He is in the study" Anjali answered with more enthusiasm than required.

Soon After his mother died, his nanaji fell sick, and couldn't bear the grief of losing his beloved daughter. But before he died, he asked Mamaji to give both Arnav and Anjali a piece of land each for their future. Nand Kishore Malik was a loyal man, he had kept the promise. Soon after Nanaji died,mamaji transferred those lands to both of the siblings' names. Since then the income generated from those land was given to the siblings. Arnav kept Anjali's share in an account for her future and he used his shares for his studies. And truth to be told, that money wasn't enough for Arnav to bear the expenses of the boarding school. But it at least was enough to cover his tuition fee, that was a relief. Rest he would manage by doing part-time jobs. He used to give tuition when he came home during summers, and then in darjeling he used to work part-time as a clerk for a law farm. That job had opened so many doors for him; and allowed him a scholarship in Oxford, for that, he was immensely grateful. Now, he earned enough with his part-time law consultancy to bear the expenses of living in London. But he discovered a rundown textile factory which he wanted to buy and start a business. And for that, he needed money that he didn't have as he couldn't find a partner. He thought of asking Aman to join him, but he was so wrapped up in his family business that Arnav didn't want to disturb him.

With a knock on the door, "Namaste, Mama Ji, may I come it?"

"Arnav, my child, how are you, beta?" at least Mamaji was happy to see him. "I am good, Mama ji. I came to discuss something with you, It won't take much time."

That's when Arnav told Mamaji how he wanted to sell his share of the land to buy the factory and start a business. But he couldn't even finish, an angry voice growled from the door.

"What did you say? you will sell the LAND!! THE LAND MY HUSBAND HAD GIVEN YOU!!! and do what??? To spend the money on Alcohol and gambling like your Dada did or spend it on prostitutes like your scoundrel father did???" the rant continued. "We are sheltering a snake!!! A SNAKE!! your father didn't have any money. MY daughter had sold all the jewellery that WE gave her to send him to London. And how he repaid??? HE CHEATED ON HER!!!! HE BETRAYED HER!!! I have told you Nand Kishor that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. ye bhi apni baap ki tarah jis taali main khata hain uspehi ched karega, namak haram kahike!!!"

"Maa, what are you saying? stop it. kuch bhi bole ja rahe ho."

Suvadra was seething and if looks could kill Arnav would have been dead already. It was not the first time that Arnav had heard all of these. He was used to hearing something similar like that in his every visit. He didn't talk back or protest, because, for some unknown reason, his Nani's anger was projected to him only. She adored Anjali, maybe because she looked like her dead daughter. And Arnav didn't want to jeopardize that. Arnav was looking at his hand the whole time, " Mamaji, I'll take my leave now"

With that he came downstairs to see Anjali reading a book, he kissed her forehead softly and proceeded to leave. Mamaji called him from behind, "Take this, Arnav beta." Giving him the will papers of the land " Don't mind your naniji. she become old. she loses her mind sometimes" Cupping Arnav's face "Everything will be alright, I have faith in you". Arnav didn't know what to do after receiving such affection. He only nodded his head and left without any words.

Nand Kishore Malik was the one who brought Arnav and Anjali home when their uncle had kicked them out of Raizada house. The talk of the society and his mother's taunting had become unbearable for that boy. So with the help of Mahindar Rajput, he sent him to the boarding school. The boy never wanted anything from him ever and had always tolerated his mother's ruthless behaviour. The land was Arnav's to do whatever he wanted with it. And Nand Kishor had no right to withdraw it from him. On another note, it would take him years, if not decades to save that amount of money to start a business. Nand Kishore Malik sighed and wished a good fortune for his nephew.

On the other side, Khushi was waiting eagerly for Arnav to come home. She had a special surprise for him. As soon as he entered their dining room where everyone was arguing over something in the newspapers, she knew something was wrong. Nobody would suspect anything by looking at him, but she had spent hours decoding his every emotion. He couldn't hide something from her. Before he reached the table she approached him "What's wrong? "

Arnav was about to deny it but ended up saying "You know the usual Nani being Nani stuff ''. To cheer him up she said, "I have something for you that will brighten your mood instantly, come sit with others at the table, I'll be joining you in a minute". And she disappeared into the kitchen.

Minutes later Khushi came out with a tray containing small bowls full of kheer in them and served them to everyone. Arnav's favourite, 'badam ka kheer'. As soon as Arnav took a bite he moaned and said in between, "Roma chachi, today's kheer is the best you've ever made" Manoroma laughed out loud, " Well as much as I would like to have the compliment all to myself, but I haven't made today's kheer. Khushi has."

Arnav did a double take and whirled around to see Khushi "Since when did you learn cooking?". For some unknown reason, Khushi started to feel very shy all of a sudden. But Buaji saved her "Mat pucho, Arnav bitwa, don't know what happened to her, she made a ruckus learning to cook kheer this summer, she even burned her hand ".

Arnav suddenly took her hand sitting across from him to inspect "You've burned your hand? Tum theek ho?" Khushi not prepared to be in the centre of attention, withdrew her hand gently and said to him "It's ok now." Her Amma then joined in, " Today or tomorrow she has to learn, Madhumati ji. Better start today than regret later". with that all of their attention moved to something else and what that was Khushi couldn't tell, because all of her attention was zoned into the man in front of her and his activity. Khushi didn't know why she was looking at Arnav so attentively just enjoying his kheer - the little moan in every bite he took, his clearing of the spoon every time, his tongue darted out to polish off his lips after every bite. All of a sudden the temperature of the room changed, and Khushi started to feel very warm all over her, like she needed to take a shower. What's happening to her? 'should she ask Babuji to take her to the doctors?' She was contemplating all of that, when Akash bhai asked, "Khushi, what happened? Are you ok? Why are your cheeks so red?" a dumbfounded Khushi all but shrieked "I am fine, I just need some air, I'll be right back". And with that, she left them, who did not take much time to forget about her and move on to another topic.

That summer Arnav discovered how acutely attuned he was to Khushi. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, his eyes would find her like a magnet. His ears would perk up by the sound of her payal or by the tinkling of her bangles or her laughter. And Arnav Also discovered how shamelessly his eyes would find the tiny exposed areas of her waist where her dupatta met the skirt. His eyes also noticed how the dupatta sometimes slipped to expose her back revealing two delicate dories that held the back of her top. It was a herculean task to suppress the itch in his hands every time he saw them. And Arnav also became aware that Khushi now had curves and to his surprise, he found them very beautiful. Since he came to Delhi he has been watching Khushi like a hawk every day, it's a wonder nobody had called him out already. Arnav was very confused with the feelings that were stirring up in him. And Arnav wasn't a fool to not understand what those feelings meant. But he couldn't decide what to do with those feelings yet.

It was the day of the Holi. Arnav didn't play Holi. Khushi was trying hard from the morning to bring him down, but to no avail. He had cooped himself up in his room till morning. Shayam Jha was their neighbour Mr. Sharma's nephew hailing from Lucknow. He was behind Khushi for almost 1 hour to drink some bhang. Khushi tried to tell him time and time again that she couldn't drink it now that her parents had forbidden her. Lastly, they came to a negotiation that if she drank one glass of 'thandai' then he would stop pushing her to drink 'bhang'. To get him off her shoulders, Khushi drank it.

Arnav was bored out of his mind. closing the book he was reading he went to the window and almost had a heart attack watching a scene happening downstairs on the lawn. Some boy was dragging a very reluctant and stumbling Khushi behind the thick bushes of the garden. Within minutes Arnav was beside her and seeing him the boy dropped Khushi's hand like a hot coal and shrank under Arnav's murderous stare. Arnav diverted his attention to Khushi. She was drunk." Khushi, why did you drink bhang?" he barked.

"I didn't " she slurred. her arms were flailing and she was on the verge of losing consciousness. Arnav supporting Khushi before she fell, gave another killer look to the boy who was fleeing the scene. Deciding to deal with him later, he scoped Khushi up in his arms and went to her room. He placed her on her bed tenderly and soon discovered that Khushi was clutching his collar. He gently pried her fingers from his collar and proceeded to leave.

''Arnav''.

<previous> | <next>

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @simplycurlz

[legitalicat]

Comes Life

Header by @zaldritzosrose

AN: Happy birthday @foxyanon !!! I love you so much, you are a beautiful presence in my life and I hope to never lose you. Just a sweet little fluff.

This is a follow up to Forged From Death.

Summary: Sihtric's family reacts to his return to Coccham.

CW: fluff

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Ten years had passed since your marriage. It was a good time. Your husband did not settle with his age, as some thought would happen, yet you did not wish him to. Watching him be just as excitable now as the day you met him, just as much a warrior, was everything you had hoped.

Your daughter Astra had grown. She now stood nearly as tall as you at fourteen years of age. Every day, she reminded you of Sihtric just as she reminded him of you. You were grateful her blood did not win out in the determination of who she was. She was far gentler than her blood, smarter. A near perfect flower, thankfully only knowing the love of Sihtric as a father.

In your marriage to Sihtric, you had welcomed four more children. Twin boys, Bjorn and Finn, were birthed in the first year of your marriage. They were near perfect replicas of Sihtric physically, Finn even having heterochromia like his father, but you thank the gods every day they were calmer than he was. Four years after that, you welcomed another girl, who you named Frida. She was a perfect mixture of you and Sihtric, though she fully embodied his spirit. And just half a year ago, you welcomed a baby boy you named Aksel. Sihtric told you he looked a lot like his own mother, and he was by far your easiest babe.

Sihtric was a doting father. His relationship with Astra never wavered, even as their family grew. When the twins came, he determined that each child had to have time with him alone. They all spent moments together as a family, of course. Though he could not ever let his children think they were not everything to him. With Frida’s arrival, he dedicated more time to spending with them instead of taking time away from them for her. With Aksel, while the boy was much too small to do what the older children do, he would make sure that every he would take as much of his care on that he physically could.

Astra was at an age where she liked spending some time alone, especially when Sihtric was off on raids. You did not push as she would come to you when she felt like it. And with the little ones, you knew it could be a bit overwhelming. It seemed that just allowing her this freedom made her want to spend time with you all instead of withdrawing more.

You had taken your boys and Frida just past the tree line. Berries were plentiful, and Finn especially loved to pick them. For every three, he would toss one. He said it was a gift for the birds. Bjorn would toss one in his mouth for every two berries he picked, saying it was a gift for him. You watched as Frida started to pick berries only to start watching the butterflies.

It was a good life, truly. While you had been a warrior, and one day would be again, your heart was contented by taking care of your family. Your soul felt contented when you got to see your husband’s return.

As if the gods themselves were listening to your thoughts, the bell signaling the warriors returning rang through the distance. Bjorn and Finn immediately stopped what they were doing and began running back into town. Frida giggled as she stood up and walked over to you to take your hand. Forgetting the baskets, you took your two youngest excitedly into town.

When in the center of town, you saw Astra hugging Sihtric tightly around the middle as he lifted Bjorn into the air and Finn wrapped himself around Sihtric’s leg. Choruses of the twins gleefully telling their da about their days nearly drowned out every other person. Frida pulled desperately against your hand and you let her go so she could run to him.

Sihtric’s laugh when Frida wrapped around the other leg wafted through the air like the most beautiful melody. He loved his children so much that it was enough to make one ache. If he hadn’t been so insistent on you needing breaks between children, you’re sure you would have given him more. If for no other reason than because he seemed happiest with them.

“Alright, my precious kits, line up for me,” he said with a laugh before putting Bjorn on the ground.

You stood off a bit to the side, giving him his moment with them. He had always allowed them to greet him however they wished. It was the best way to feel their love for him, he said. And after a few moments, he would like them up and greet them individually, so they could feel his love for them.

“Little one,” he said as he hugged Astra. He had tried once a few years ago to change her nickname to something different, something more fitting. But she wouldn’t allow it, taking pride in the nickname.

“I missed you, papa,” she said, hugging him back just as tightly.

In your eyes, their relationship was so special. He never looked at her differently once the twins were born. She was his just as the children of his blood. At times, you almost forgot that she wasn’t. Sihtric was quick to remind everyone at any opportunity that she was his.

“Just as I missed you, little one,” he said quietly. He kissed the top of her head before pulling away and kneeling down in front of Finn. “My fierce little warrior, you must have grown a foot in my absence.”

Finn wrapped his arms tightly around Sihtric’s neck and laughed. “I eat what ma tells me to so I can be strong like you, da,” Finn told him. “I made sure to protect everyone.”

Sihtric chuckled at his words. Finn, having been just a few moments older than his brother, took it upon himself to be the man of the house when Sihtric was gone. Despite Astra being able to hold him at bay with the handle of her axe, Finn insisted he was the strongest warrior in Coccham. He took his job seriously, too, circling the house at night just as Sihtric does, at least once, to make sure there were no surprises. Your husband only indulged these thoughts, assuring him he would one day join the raiding party with himself, Osferth, Uhtred, and Finan.

“I have no doubts,” Sihtric said. He planted a kiss on top of Finn’s head, making the boy giggle before he pulled back and turning to Bjorn. “The slyest fox in all of Wessex, you have grown too,” he said happily, taking Bjorn into his arms.

“Ma said I can have berries when we pick them,” Bjorn said defensively, hugging Sihtric back nonetheless.

Sihtric always thought Bjorn was the most mischievous of the children. Sometimes he would hide for a while just because he found it funny. Other times, he would sneak a roll or sweet when he thought nobody was looking.

Your eyes shifted for a moment to see Astra and Finn greeting their uncles. Astra took great comfort in having all of them home. She said it was when she felt safest. Finn, sensing his sister’s ease, would also calm down a bit and be a bit more playful. With a small smile, you looked back to your husband.

“And I am certain you take all you can get,” Sihtric laughed. A kiss to the top of the head and he pulled away, letting Bjorn join his siblings with their uncles. He then turned to Frida. “Butterfly, oh I almost did not recognize you, you grow more fearsome.”

Frida giggled and hugged him. He stood, lifting her up in his arms. Frida did not say much, always being quiet and more reserved. She was merely contented in being held by him.

Then Sihtric looked up at you. His still wide smile softened. The love he had for you was just as evident now as it was the day you married. To him, you were perfect and beautiful. A fearsome woman, of course, but a treasure worthy of the gods. He kissed Frida’s head and handed her to Osferth, arguably her favorite uncle, before walking up to you.

“My littlest kit,” he said softly, kissing Aksel’s forehead.

“And just as sweet as the oldest,” you commented, smiling up at him.

He rested his forehead against yours, still looking down at the babe in your arms. Your heart felt as though it grew three times in size as you leaned into him. Just as his love had never waned for you, yours never had for him.

“I missed you,” he said softly as pulled back to look at you.

“I missed you,” you told him. “We all did.”

Sihtric chuckled softly. “Seeing you all rush to greet me after the journey we had, I do not doubt it.”

“I could not hope to contain them if they know you approach. A testament to you as their father,” you said to him.

“And the fact you come just the same?” he asked you.

You chuckled quietly. Uhtred came over to you both, giving you a quick greeting, before wordlessly asked for Aksel. All you did was smile and handed him the small boy to Uhtred. He walked away, leaving you alone with your husband.

It was perfect, to be beside him. A wonderful feeling deep in your soul. It was a feeling shared between you both. One that had been forged long ago, from the death of Sigefrid that had brought you peace.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He turned to look back, making sure all the children were taken care of. When he counted each of them, he turned to you with a sly little smirk on his face. Then without a moment, he lifted you over his shoulder and started carrying you towards your home. Your laughs echoed down the street, your heart heavy with how much love you had. Your life was truly perfect.

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Taglist: @foxyanon @zaldritzosrose @thenameswinter99

[orangepanic]

What are your thoughts on the 'problematic' ships in atla/tlok? You know, incest, big age gap, etc

I'm very firmly ship and let ship, don't like don't read. Are there things that personally squick me out? Absolutely! Are there ships that make me wonder what's wrong with someone that they could want to write that, let alone share it, or why anyone would possibly want to read it, either? Of course. Do I have blocked tags, muted authors, and stuff I deliberately exclude from searches because I hate it so much I don't even want to see it, even just to scroll past? Totally do. I'd go nuts if I didn't.

And yet - and this is the important part - all of that is about ME. I don't like it. I don't want it. I sometimes hate that someone made it. But I firmly believe that in the totality of human history very little, if anything, has come from the censorship of fiction. What is "problematic" changes over time, and is a feature of one's individual absorption of culture and moral beliefs and preferences. There was a time in history where incest was fine - look at most European royal families, or the common marriage of first cousins in the U.S. until very recently. There was a time in history where a lord raping every woman in the area on her wedding night was also fine, or when male guests coming to the house were routinely provided one of the unmarried daughters to sleep with. There was a time when women riding bicycles was considered a disease. There was a time not all that long ago when depicting a same sex relationship was illegal - see the Hays Code in film. Also, someone told me we can't like The Time Traveler's Wife - a book that was a bestseller only 20 years ago - because it's now problematic to have an older man time travel back to his younger wife. I even hear kids these days think showing your bare feet is enabling an apparently huge population of foot fetish pedophiles to get off on all the feet of children? 10,000 years of human beings wearing sandals but now we're at risk it seems. And there are people in this fandom right now who argue Irosami is disgusting age gap ship even though it was originally supposed to be canon, was fairly popular when the show came out, and Pema and Tenzin are 15 years apart (which nobody seems to mind).

I guess what I'm trying to say is, who died and made me or anyone else the moral arbiter of fiction? Because once you go down that road you have to start making decisions on what it means for something to be "problematic." How big an age gap is too big? How close a relation is too close? Can my characters wear sandals? And then you get stuff like "sibling-coded" and three-year age gaps being problematic and fandom police as you open the door to more and more restrictions on fake people in fake worlds doing fake things with each other to the point that, if you're not careful, the only thing a transformative work is allowed to do is regurgitate canon in a way that defeats the entire point of creative writing, fandom, and fanworks. Even if I don't like a specific ship or piece, I do believe society is better in aggregate for having fewer restrictions on creativity, not more.

So I choose to reject the entire principle that I have any right to consider anyone else's ship or work wrong. If I don't like it, I have the tools to curate my own experience.

[theswaggyrat]

Foreign Acquaintances

Ayato x Fem!Reader // Genshin Childhood Lovers cw ~ soft angst // childhood lovers // inazuma spoilers ? // unedited tw ~ none !! plot - childhood lovers reunited, yet your eyes seem so cold and distant. and when did you forget his name ? when did you forget him ? part 1 ; part 2

Your fingers tangled themselves into the folds of your kimono as you hesitantly crossed through the city crowd. It had been a while since your last stroll within the grounds of Ritou. Shogunate soldiers mingled about the shadows of the city, watching it in secrecy; it was honestly quite eerie, and you could never shake the feeling that they were always watching you. You had not a clue where the feeling originated from, but it drove you restless — you felt misplaced.

To put it blatantly, you did not remember much after a few years ago. You had awoken in a strange home, accompanied by a young girl who treated you whilst you regained strength. The loss of memory — or so you were told — was due to an encounter with treasure hoarders. If it were not for the likes of a woman with the name “Kamisato Ayaka”, you might have been dead. You had not the need to question it much, and overtime you grew to realize just how much impact she had on the townsfolk.

Your stomach rumbled low and hungrily, yearning for something to quench your stomach’s thirst. Street markets were popped along in rows against the roads edge, workers waving a majority of tourists over; but Ritou citizens knew just how unflattering their food was, with a quality that slugs off when touched with a pint of pure water.

Homely food was more preferable than any of the Ritou accommodations though. So you spun the other way, interlacing your hands together as you wandered off.

You had originally visited the city in hopes of finding a new hair piece to go with your outfit. Leisure time had come about and you took the chance to shop around with pleasure, but unfortunately found yourself empty handed. Sure, they were not a necessity; but they were at the least flattering to the eye.

The Kamisato Family were the ones who generously donated a small home to you while you worked your way back into society after the incident. Mainly the daughter, albeit you’ve been told the eldest made a few investments from time to time. You found it odd how the eldest were never to be seen in person. Stories were spread that his hair was as smooth as silk and his icy orbs were not only piercing, but captivating enough to drown in — you had yet to see him in person yourself, but you would assume the latter for now.

You stepped down onto a small stone path that trailed further into a small bamboo forest, just passing your house. It was not much, but it was the only home you knew, or rather remembered. Clicking against the stone as you walked was another figure, tall and slim. The outlines curved about to present a silhouette of a elegant character, taking each step on gracefully. If it were not for the numerous accounts where you found herself reading the rules of aristocracy, you would not be so elegantly refined yourself — and you also would have began to run. Yet the as the shadows shoulders stayed low and their chin held high, you felt no need to; you knew they would not dare hurt you.

You slowed your pace, allowing the man to stroll beside you and pass if he must. Then you turned your head to eye the man. His hair fell down his back, delicately brushed and tinted with a frosty glare. His jaw was set firm and his orbs pierced your own as he gazed back.

Could it be? The Kamisato Ayato? Perhaps the latter was correct, and you expected far too less of him.

Oddly, when his pupils dilated and his iris shrunk, you felt a familiar rush of adrenaline wash over you. Goosebumps surfaced beneath the veil of your kimono and you gulped aloud.

“y/n? l/n y/n?”

His voice was strictly posh and smooth but still sent waves of relaxation fizzling about your mind. And for a moment, he had distracted you from an oddity of sorts.

Whose last name did he call you? He had known your name justly so, if he was truly a Kamisato; but your last name was Zhào, far from… l/n.

“It is Zhào y/n, to be exact.” You smiled quaintly as you greeted him so. “Do you perhaps happen to be Kamisato Ayato? I am greatly in your fortune,” you quipped, bowing your head respectfully. When your eyes flit back to his face, you had left him agape.

“Either I am very insane, or my dear sister is a liar,” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Ayato’s eyes gazed at you longingly, and you knew not why, but you wished for more.

“I am sorry, Sir Kamisato, but I am afraid you may have the wrong woman,” you stated, shuffling further from him. It was unfortunate when you felt his skin against your own, reeling you back in as he took your wrist.

Ayato averted his eyes to the side momentarily, aiding you with a moment of silence as you began to collect your thoughts. The eldest Kamisato son was causing quite the scene, and you must admit you were glad no one was close enough to hear. “You don’t remember me,” he muttered. His grasp on your loosened just enough for you to slip away, but out of curiosity, you stayed.

“My sister, Ayaka. You know her, yes?” Ayato queried with a soft-spoken tone blanketing his worry. You were slow to answer, unsure of how to go about answering under his tensed gaze.

“I do. She saved my life.”

“She-“ His orbs narrowed slightly as he bit his tongue, sharply cutting himself off. “And you have no memory? Of anything?”

You chuckled briefly, awkwardly nodding to appease him. “I suppose. Were you not told?”

As the man’s brows creased, your gaze softened and you realized there must be more to it; what were you not being told? Sure, you never questioned it — you were without memory and were cared for quite well — but maybe everything was going too great. Why had you not thought indifferent for just a second?

“I had not been. I have been betrayed by my most beloved sister, it seems,” he sighed. Ayato’s features faltered and fell swollen. “After all this searching, and you barely waver when you see me.”

There was definitely much more beneath the surface. Had you known Kamisato Ayato for much longer? And why did it feel so satisfying with his touch pressed against your skin?

“Sir Kamisato, pray tell I knew you?” You asked curiously, slipping your wrist away to conceal behind your waist.

Ayato refocused his eyes on you and examine your figure. “Could it be..?” He pondered, avoiding your question. “Your vision. You do not have it?”

You were taken aback by many things, but mainly such an idea that you had the token of bearing a vision. “Please, Sir Kamisato. How crude of you, honestly,” you scoffed, pursing your lips as your eyes wandered over his body. “No, I do not.” Your e/c orbs settled upon the vision he bore, wrapped around a decorative rope that waved around his waist.

“The Vision Hunt Decree,” he muttered solemnly. You cocked your head in awe. You knew well of it, but surely you had not been a part of it — that was plain ridiculous. Miss Kamisato would never lie to you.

Would she?

Rather sudden and unexpectedly, Ayatao’s fingers found themselves lacing between yours; you were quite surprised, to say the least, and a soft heat surfaced atop your cheeks. “Sir Kamisato, I-“

You stuttered about as Ayato examined you. He was searching for something when he gazed into your eyes, and you could not tell what when he furrowed his brows and momentarily clutched your hand tighter than before. Your fingers tingled a pleasant sort of delight within his hand; but then he let go and retracted himself from you, and the feeling quickly diminished.

“I do not know if I can fix this,” Ayato whispered, his icy orbs feeling much more cool than they should of. “There will be a chance you don’t remember and…”

“Sir Kamisato?”

He sighed defeatedly and turned away; and as he spoke, you could hear the pain interlaced with every word. It left you quivering in sorrow as you reached your hand toward him briefly. How you yearned to bring a smile to his face.

“You’re no longer mine to hold, y/n.”