Of course, if you already are looking for the good stuff, I made a list of it
MASTERLIST
And if you can't find any that hit the spot, you can ask for certain things below. But be aware, they have a shelf life so don't be surprised if one of the get sold out!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Any Alan Rickman characters
Claude Frollo
Cedric the sorcerer
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As for NSFW, I feel in between about it. If I'm going to write it, it needs probably some good story behind it. But overall, don't feel scared to ask!
A/N: huge massive round of applause to @muiitoloko for this fic. She made this series not me, im just continuing it. If you want to re-read this series, here's the first part!
Warning: blood, gore, hints at sexual harassment, mild language
Series: Hunger's Hollow
content: Frank Benson x reader
amount of words: 1.7k
You cried kicking and screaming fighting against them. It was the last thing you remembered before they hit the back of your head knocking you cold out. Frank tried to keep up chasing you for a good while before the truck got too fast. He for once felt like you. A desperate kind of sadness.
For a long while he just fell to his knees wondering what to do but he didn't have that much thinking power due to the disease. He looked to his right and saw Feliz trying to catch up, meowing loudly obviously disturbed by the situation. He realized then just how much you had given him something to fight for. So, he picked Felix and placed him on his shoulder before starting the long journey following where the truck went by trying to follow your scent.
Meanwhile the deepest part inside him hoped it wouldn't be the last time he smelled you.
After phasing in and out of consciousness, you woke up feeling like you were tied sitting upright in a chair. You were blindfolded trying to figure out what was going on before hearing the wiggle of a door knob. Then, footsteps seemed to get closer till the supposed person pulled a chair opposite of you.
“Forgive me if the men who brought you here were a bit… crooked. Unfortunately, since most of the population died, we’ve been desperate to hire people.”
The voice spoke sickeningly sweet, like a snake trying to act like a doe. “Who the hell are you?” You said bitterly not trusting a single thing they said before pulling off your blind-fold. That's when it hit. It was one of Frank’s closest old friends who also worked for the government. But he seemed crooked.
“Since you already know me, I'm going to cut right to the chase. Do you have any idea as to why you're here?”
“I was hoping you might be the one to enlighten me since I'm the one who was kidnapped here.” You retorted with a little less bite but still very watery not trusting him in the slightest. “I was almost hoping you’d say that. You see, I need to know how much information you have on a few things.” Meanwhile, he started pulling out a few files before asking the first question.
“How much did Frank tell you about the drug?” You paused for a moment, not really surprised but a little taken back. “All I know is that it affected the whole globe. I'm not sure how nor why but… I just know it caused the biggest problem worldwide.”
“How would you feel if I were to… satisfy those questions for you?” He spoke a bit more darkly. “Actually, no need to reply, I already know you want it.” He quickly changed his tune going back to being sly.
“You see, you probably think that this whole thing is one big accident. But… it's far far from it.” Now that was something that intrigued you before he continued. “You probably remember when those murders started happening with certain criminals. People called it a freak accident. But, the government and I called them lab rats”
He had the most terrifying Cheshire smile as you realized how deep this rabbit hole went. “We wanted to test a drug that could make people become rabid like dogs. Rabies, but for humans.”
“But why, what was the purpose!?” You said, sounding a bit more desperate than you realized. But, you wanted to know what the purpose was for this horrific event that marred your husband.
“It was actually for two reasons. The main one is control. You probably also remember those riots. Truth was, the government was scared they were losing control. After all, even with all the guns in the world, with enough hope and people rallied together… they could become America's own greatest foe. So, when your enemies start to look threating… take away their thinking power.”
The information sunk in like a ton of bricks. At first, you wanted to refute it, but the evidence was overwhelming. Everything just fit together like one big puzzle piece. You were dead quiet allowing him to continue.
“The second reason is to get rid of the governments 'embarrassments’. When you think about it, information leaks can sometimes happen unexpectedly. So, when you wipe the memory clean from said person, no longer a problem now is it?”
“Does that mean-” “Your husband was one of the ones on the death list. He found out about the drug and we decided that if he made a big commotion, we just couldn't allow that to happen.”
You had never felt more betrayed in your entire life. But Frank suffered the worst of the deal. He knew that the drug was going to kill millions of people but before he could even do anything about it, he was injected with it.
Almost out of pure reflex you rammed your head into his causing him to stumble back falling backwards onto the floor. He brought a hand up to his forehead before looking at it, seeing a smear of blood. But instead of freaking out, he just chuckled. “Now you see why I had to tie you to the chair.”
“Did you bring me here for a reason or just decided to take the piss out of me. You better tell me what the fuck your plan is before head butting is the least of your concern.” He just smiled, almost as sinister as before as he got back up brushing the dust off his suit. “No no, you're here for a reason. Once we injected him with it, most people usually became brainless and would develop the hunger later. Not him, he immediately ran out slaughtering anyone who came into his path. Even armed men. Nothing could stop him. He looked like he was on a mission to find something he lost. We wanted to use that anger for ourselves, but he left. We managed to place a tracker on him and figured out you were his weakness. But now that we have his sweet wife, he will probably be just as determined to walk back in here.”
He then had the audacity to smile snarkily before starting to leave. You gritted your teeth together fighting against the restraints. “How can you do this with a clean conscience!?”
He paused and without even turning to look back at you, he answered, “Who said I even had one?”
He was ignoring every chance of food as he walked. There were plenty of squirrels, mice, and even dead people as he made his way to find. But, he didn't even look at them once. Too determined to find out where you were. Felix the whole time purring contently in his pocket.
He finally walked up to the old HQ. His brain desperately tried to put together memories of when he worked here but it kept coming to a dead end. Thanks to you though reviving his humanity, he started to develop a plan on how to get in.
He jumped over the barbed wire fence like it was no big deal before seeing all sorts of zombies. His brain felt like something was familiar. What he didn't realize was all of the zombies inside the fence were his old friends who also found out about the drug and now we're used as guard dogs for intruders.
One of them turned to Frank and was about to alert some guards before Frank grabbed their withered hand. A bunch of grunts ensued as they tried to communicate with each other. After a while, he managed to convince them to help him and now had a team behind him.
There were only two guards stationed outside since most strangers were scared off by the zombies. Frank and his team quickly killed both the guards. A walkie talkie spoke from one of the guards' pockets asking if there were any dangers. Frank cleared his throat (or what was left of it) before pressing a button and saying, “all clear, over.” He managed to do it like muscle memory, not even realizing how many times he used to do this before the disease.
Surprisingly, the people inside thought it was the guards and didn't push the matter. Frank dropped the walkie talkie before heading inside. Some of the members that were feasting on the guards’ bodies stopped and followed him thinking that he might need help and went back to following him.
You were unfortunately not in the best of hands, you were watched by two guards who occasionally punched you or humiliated you in a language you couldn't understand. It felt just as hurtful as if you did understand it. The guy was right when he said the government had to hire scraps since apparently they were all too happy to do whatever they’d like.
But just as you were about to lose all hope, you heard screams and flesh being torn. You thought maybe it was an ambush before hearing grunts and growls. The two guards quickly ran out to try and help thin the herd of zombies but it was already too late. All you did was smirk knowing Frank found a way to help you.
Sure enough, the door broke in half making you wince and standing front and center was your husband absolutely drenched in blood and chunks of organs. He nodded to the others signaling he didn't need their help anymore and they could actually spend time eating the new corpses.
With the surprising gentleness of a butterfly, he gently took Felix out of his pocket and put him on your lap since he figured the small creature always made you happy. Meanwhile, he ripped apart the top that tied you to the chair.
He carried you bride style with Felix still in your lap out of the room before growling lowly signaling to the other zombies not to mess with you. Fortunately, they were too content with the already numerous corpses to really care.
He carried you for hours until seeing a good shelter which was an old museum. He placed you inside before also giving you a mango that remained in one of his pockets. At this moment, you had never seen him look so… human.
“Thank you Frank.” You said gently before intertwining your hand with his. He just grumbled like it was absolutely normal.
Hii! Idk if its just me but just wanted to let you know that I cant access your masterlist from mobile, its says I need to request access!! Just wanted to inform you! Read one of your snape fics and loved ittt❤️❤️
hello! I'm so sorry, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I also have fixed it and given everyone permission, so sorry for the mistake! 😅
I saw @mads-xincai do this and I love the idea so much so I'm gonna do the same (hope that's okay).
Everyone give me your favourite song at the moment, a song that you relate to deeply, and a song that has sentimental meaning or is just an all time favourite.
I'm gonna make a playlist (i keep listening to the same songs on repeat and I need to branch out a bit)!!!
I'll go first!
Sophie - Black Polish
new to this - ixaras
Riptide - Vance Joy
Here's the playlist if you want to look at it, I'll try and add everyone's songs as soon as I can. <3
Fav at the moment: JUMP by Blackpink - jumped to the top of my On Repeat playlist the day it dropped and it's my go-to hype song rn
A song I relate to: Kids In The Dark by All Time Low - I've related to it since I was an angsty middle schooler and I guess something thing don't change
All time favourite sentimental: Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley - I've always been sucker for lovey dovey songs even when I was single
Also, I totally didn’t scream when I saw that we’re now mutuals /s
Currently on repeat / Favourites right now:
1. Absolutely incredible. The play on words with “she’s got a way” to “she got away”, I LIVE FOR THIS STUFF (same as when Noah Kahan sings “I’ll dial drunk / I’ll die drunk / I’ll die for you)!
2. I’m not okay, lol.
3. I love the harmonies, ugh. Also, such pretty lyrics!
4 & 5. Grew up hearing these tracks & artists. They never fail to shift my mindset.
Songs I relate to:
1. Hosier sings about comparing his current partner to his lover. ‘She’ being the romantic partner, and ‘you’ being the lover.
“I got some colour back / She thinks so, too.”
“I laugh like me again / She laughs like you.”
“I’m almost me again / She’s almost you.”
In my case, I’m ‘she’, and ‘you’ is the person I’ll never quite be. I’m almost always there. But I’ll never completely be her. Hozier/‘I’ acts as the placeholder for those in my life that will always have something to say to/about me, to disagree with/about me on. Most of my personal relationships are people that always have to disagree with me; I can never be right, I can never be enough. Almost enough? Sure. But not fully. Never fully. I can be right, though. I am right, often times. I’m open to everything and learning as much as I possibly can, and if I don’t understand, I’ll go out of my way to do so. That being said, it’s so exhausting. I’ve had many experiences, and been a victim more times than I can count. But they were right. Not me. ‘They weren’t coming from a place of ill intent. If they knew your circumstances, or the outcome that would come of it, they wouldn’t do that.’ When will people stop trying to reduce my entire being to something that shouldn’t kindly occupy space in the mind of others, in the heart of life, in the soul of the earth. When will I be enough?
Sorry for that spiel, lol. I hope the day is kind to you, and know that you are enough. You’ve always been enough; you’ll always be enough <3 Please do try to sip some water, and nibble on some good food today. Give yourself something to look forward to :)
All Time Favourites:
This changes all the time oops.
1. I love Mama Cassie. Be my mama, fr, please.
2. Grew up with Black Eyed Peas & a lot of early R&B.
3. Discovered Chappell Roan last year and I’ve been loving her music!!! Bummed that I missed out on the opportunity to attend one of her 2023-2024 concerts :’)
4 & 5. Have always been a huge fan of jazz! :D ‘ya like jazz? 😏’ lives in my head rent-free. I know the bee movie word for word. That being said, I have an extensive list of my favourite jazz songs on stand-by.
(I hit the audio limit for this post, which is insane).
▶️ ‘The Very Thought Of You’ by Nat King Cole (and really any of his songs are favourites of mine. I love his music so much).
6, 7, 8 & 9. Have also always been a huge fan of soul. I live for it. I think both my jazz and soul playlists have the most songs. I listen to a lot of different jazz and soul artists (also from most other genres) within a wide span of decades.
▶️ ‘Can’t Get Enough of Your Love’ by Barry White.
▶️ ‘It’s A Shame’ by The Spinners.
▶️ ‘You Know I’m No Good’ by Amy Winehouse (also love most of her songs).
▶️ ‘Mr Telephone Man’ by New Edition.
10, 11, 12 & 13. I also love rock or more specifically ‘alt-rock’.
▶️ ‘Gangsta Sexy’ by Hollywood Undead.
▶️ ‘Dying In A Hot Tub’ by Palaye Royale (also another favourite band, I’ve got so many favourite artists and bands).
▶️ ‘Kill All Your Friends’ by My Chemical Romance (from a 2006-7 EP of theirs).
▶️ ‘Change Your Mind’ by The Killers. Very nostalgic band.
14. I love this song. It’s just immaculate, I fear??
▶️ ‘Les’ By Childish Gambino.
15. Bringing it ‘round home to literally anything by P!NK, lol. My longest standing artist era (as of today) has been P!NK. Followed by Noah Kahan pre/during the release of Stick Seasons. Love that dude. Can’t go wrong with any P!NK or Noah Kahan songs.
|| SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG. Thank you for reading my tangents if you’ve made it this far! ||
Tagging a few mutuals— feel free to do this, if you’re feeling up to it :)
Error: soul not found ^ (I just found out odetari did a fnaf song and I was pumped and absolutely loved it and still do. Could you tell I'm a fnaf fan?)
He started out his day like normal. Getting up, eating something and then usually studying. But his study was swiftly interrupted when his guards practically broke his doors to get to him. "there better be a good reason as to why you have broken in here like animals."
His tone dripped with malice before one of the guards managed to pipe up. "sir, we heard that there is a huge heist being schemed by the gypsies and we might know where they're hiding at."
He quickly caught on to what they were saying and got the location before swiftly speed-walking towards his horse. With a whiny from the horse he dashed down the streets making people gasp and quickly move before they turned into pancakes.
He saw one of the Romani's the guards described to him and started chasing him on horseback. The man ran for dear life before Frollo started smelling the strong aroma of something... sweet?
Before he was able to tell where it was coming from or why, he snapped back to look in front of him pulling on the reins to a quick halt before disaster struck.
The festival of fools was coming quicker than you realized. Your small bakery liked to make usually something to celebrate even though it was against policy. Your bakery had taken in gypsies many times and we're happy to help however they could.
You were doing the usual, preparing certain bowls and utensils before hearing someone walk in. There standing in all his retina burning yellow and purple glory was Clopin.
"I know you like wearing that for kids, but do you wear that while even doing errands?" You teased, chuckling to yourself. "Ah, but you see children are everywhere! What if I bumped into a child who looked sad?" He replied pulling down on the bells of his hat to make him look sad.
You two had a bit of a brother sister relationship since you were friends from childhood. "Alright, I get the point Mr. Sad face. Now, what treat are you wanting for the festival?"
He quickly changed his face, smiling mischievously. He leaned over the counter with the widest grin you would swear you heard his face pop a muscle. "I was thinking this time, we do something a bit more... adventurous?"
You sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing the bridge of your nose. "I swear to God... what is it?" You wanted to get it over and done with just to hear what insane idea he came up with. "I was thinking maybe filling up a huge wooden bathtub with I don't know... maybe syrup?"
You genuinely had to pause to see whether or not he was joking. "Are... are you actually serious?" He giggled nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw a bunch of kids really sad and I may or may not have promised them they would bathe themselves in syrup at this festival" He said looking down shamefully.
"number one, do you know how hard it is to get syrup out of hair, let alone clothes? And number two... why is it the first thing you think of to cheer up a child is bathing them in something they'll have to pick out for weeks?"
He just shrugged as if his character and personality already proved himself that he would be crazy enough to do that. You sat down in your chair trying to think of how on God's green earth you were going to get your hands on that much syrup. The cost of it would be more than five of these bakeries.
But you remembered, the cathedral liked to donate to businesses to convince them that if there were gypsies nearby they would let the cathedral know. You ran into the basement scaring Clopin for a second from how fast you dashed towards there.
Sure enough, there were two chests filled with a generous amount of gold and silver. You quickly ran back up to tell Clopin, "how does two bathtubs filled with syrup sound?"
With Clopin running letters for you, sure enough the syrup was delivered to a port nearby. You quickly bolted to your trusty horse, then galloping to the dock hoping you were on time. There in all its glory in a carriage, the perfect sticky substance that would make this festival amazing.
You hooked up the carriage to the tack on your horse and quickly slapped the reins trying to get as quick to the bakery as possible. But you felt like something was wrong when zooming by people you saw them waving frantically at you.
You didn't think too much of it, it was probably just people dancing and getting ready for the festival... right? Oh how wrong you were. You were at a four lane intersection when you looked to your left before seeing judge Frollo himself on horseback about to collide with you.
Before you could do anything, Frollo's horse quickly toppled on top of your carriage crushing the thin fabric that went above it that protected it from rain. Syrup went absolutely everywhere, getting crushed by the full weight of the horse's body before a crack was heard as the carriage broke in half from the black Shire’s weight.
You squeezed your eyes tightly shut knowing that this was going to be a long and tedious explanation. How stupid it could sound, 'hi judge of death! I just so happened to need this much syrup for my glutenous self because I just love pancakes!'
You had never seen the man in person but you heard practically horror stories from how other people described him, mainly Clopin. But then again, Clopin tended to over exaggerate practically everything he talked about.
But, you quickly hopped down from your horse and walked to where he was, still crumpled on top of the horse and absolutely covered head to toe in syrup. Just looking at the scene you could already imagine your beheading for this.
"I'm so sorry sir, I should have stopped and looked both-" before you were able to finish, he looked you in the eyes. You actually were able to recognize him from long ago. You used to play with him as a child. But you didn't know he was now a judge of death.
He opened his eyes and pulled his arms away before managing to see you and started to slowly recognize you.
He heard her starting to apologize before he got down from the crash quickly checking on his horse. Once seeing he was ok, he took off his hat and wrung it out making puddle upon puddle being made on the cobblestone street made of syrup.
"If you don't mind me asking, why do you have an entire carriage full of syrup." He said looking at you with the most calculating of gazes. You stammered trying to come up with a reason before he stopped you. "Actually, I have a better question. Have we met before?"
You were stunned. You thought he would be furious but he instead was trying to get to know you. "O-oh, I'm (reader's name)!" You said quickly, snapping out of your thoughts.
It looked like something clicked in his brain, "Are you the same child that once beat another boy with a rolling pin?" You couldn't help but giggle fondly at the memory of when you were little. "Yes, I am. And in my defence, he deserved it."
And for once in his life, he let out a chuckle. Not one of evil intent, but one of actual delight. You were absolutely stunned. You were able to make the judge who was ready to kill anything that moved laugh, even after getting syrup all over him!
"Quite a fond memory. Say, once I get these robes washed and my horse cleansed, what would you think of maybe dinner at the palace of justice with me?" He said with a slight smile. You looked at his face to see if there was any ill-intent. But you only found a man genuinely wanting to reunite with an old friend.
"That sounds absolutely lovely." You found yourself actually getting a little excited at the idea of dinner with him. He seemed to favor you a little and what's wrong in remedying that? (Other than the fact he was a bit of a racist cough cough)
He asked one of the guards that patrolled the area to call for a carriage to carry his horse since it fell unconscious but not dead from the crash. Meanwhile, you offered for him to wait inside your bakery since it was probably going to take a while.
He gladly accepted and you led him to the building pulling him a seat to rest on. "I apologize if I get any syrup on these chairs." He said actually emended with real remorse "eh, it's seen worse. Once, I accidentally got batter all over it. It was quite the mess if I do say so myself.”
He just smiled appreciating the refreshing conversation feeling at ease since usually the main people he talked to like his guards, they always stuttered and trembled before him. Meanwhile, you did not. And it made him a bit happier without even realizing it.
You figured while he was waiting, you’d lighten up the mood and fix up something for him to make up for the whole accident. You started working on some croissants with strawberries in them with frost filling. The sweet scent filled the hair making Frollo’s nose twitch.
“Are you making something or am I just smelling the syrup?” He said confusingly. You chuckled, shaking your head. “No sir, I'm actually making some treats for you as a way to make up for this sticky disaster.” He couldn't help but smile a bit, it had been years since he had ever had someone do something nice for him out of their own heart.
“Also, if you're tired of sitting in syrup, I have some spare clothes for you to change into. Usually, we save them for employees when they get flour or something on their shirt. But, I think I can make an exception.”
He nodded, getting up making squishing sounds from his robe which was soaking wet. “Thank you. Where do I go to change?” He asked. “Oh, you can just go into the basement and change since the clothes are down there anyways. I think there is also an empty bin to place your dirty clothes in.”
With that, he walked into the basement and started changing himself. It has been a couple of minutes and the treats were done. Without thinking, you went into the basement to tell him.
“I just wanted to tell you that-” before you were able to finish, you saw him shirtless only in the pants he just put on. Both of you blushed beet red. “Sorry sorry, so sorry!” You shrieked while walking out quickly shutting the door behind you.
You then sat down in front of the door covering your face with your hands trying to cover your now red cheeks. Your mind kept replaying what happened. The way the remnant of syrup glistened on his body. The way he made skinny look appetizing.
You quickly got up going over to the table trying to go back to normal not wanting to make him feel awkward after what happened. He walked in doing the same thing as you. Trying to act like nothing happened so things don't become awkward.
“Good news! The sweets didn't burn!” You said trying to relax the atmosphere to which he smiled. “That's good, what did you make?” He said curiously. “It may not be as good as what you already probably eat daily, but it's one of our signature treats.” You then put the pan on the counter letting him see it. He brought one to his mouth and made a warm smile. A smile you never thought he could wear.
“Forgive me if they're a little burnt. I sometimes tend to leave them in a little too long.” You said leaning against the counter. He just promptly shook his head and responded, “this is the best food I've had in eons. I'm tempted to make you my personal baker. I’d pay you much better than the scraps you get paid here.”
It seemed today, he in particular, was full of surprises. You, his personal baker? It would be nice to say the least. But you realized that this also was going to get hard since you for some reason just now realized that all that syrup was gone. You really should have saved the other chest instead of getting twice the amount. But, maybe not all of the syrup was crushed. You could go and check later, otherwise you would look even more suspicious.
But you realized you needed to respond to what he was asking. “Oh, that would be amazing! Maybe I could even put nuts in it?” You teased before both of you chuckled. Even since he was little, he hated nuts. Not because he was allergic, more of he just didn't like the taste or texture.
“Still making jokes like that? My, nothing much has changed about you.” He said a bit surprised at how much you were the same. “Well, I'm honored. I think?” But before you were able to say anything else, a carriage finally arrived to carry his horse which was sleeping at the moment.
You could tell he was a bit sad that this ended but was happy at least to be going back home. “I guess that's my leave. Tell me though, do you still want to join me for dinner?” He asked while making his leave from the building. “As long as you aren't filled up on treats, yes.”
With another smile from him, he left
After he left though, you realized that he had left his syrup covered clothes from earlier. You put them in the wash bucket and cleaned them before hanging them up to dry. All the whole thinking.
“I guess I'm going to have dinner with the judge.”
hello! I don't know if I have asked this before, if so feel free to ignore.
I was wondering if we could basically get some Lionel Shabandar comfort. Of course they would be together for a while at this point but I was thinking basically reader works for a mowing company or something and gets either heat attack or hurts herself with working with the equipment that she actually has to go to the hospital. Lionel walks in and tells her basically he has already called for her and quit her job for her and now is going to take care of her himself.
Again I'm sorry if I have requested this before but I so badly want to see this come alive. If not, I can write it myself (but it won't be as good as yours). Anyway thank youuuu!! 💙⭐
Title: The Lady Shahbandar Problem
Summary: Lionel married the only woman immune to his wealth. Keeping her means learning that love isn’t something you can out-negotiate.
Pairing: Lionel Shahbandar × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Blood
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy this. Sorry for the delay in responding to your request.
Also read on Ao3
Honestly, you might never understand what the charming, arrogant, insufferably magnetic billionaire Lord Lionel Shahbandar saw in you—a woman who mowed lawns for a living.
But somehow, five years into marriage, here you were.
Still working for the same modest landscaping company, still starting your days in grass-stained boots and high-vis gear, and still infuriating your absurdly wealthy husband by refusing to quit a job you technically no longer needed.
Not that Lionel didn’t try to change your mind. Repeatedly.
“Darling,” he’d drawl, baritone voice slick with exasperated amusement as he caught sight of you lacing up your steel-toed boots before dawn, “remind me again why the Lady Shahbandar must subject herself to grass clippings and hedge trimmers like a common peasant?”
“Because I like it,” you replied, tugging your gloves on with practiced ease. “And because someone around here needs to remember what hard work looks like.”
“Oh, is that a jab at my refined existence? How cruel,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “I lift spirits daily with my mere presence. Isn’t that labor enough?”
You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, leaving the faintest trace of sunscreen behind. “Try not to seduce the entire city while I’m gone.”
He grinned, sharp and charming as ever. “No promises. I am, after all, a lion.”
Lionel Shahbandar—your husband. Tycoon, aristocrat, art hoarder, former Casanova, and self-proclaimed king of whatever room he walked into. With his thick silver-streaked hair, hooked nose, and that maddening twinkle in his eye that promised mischief and mayhem, he looked like trouble wrapped in custom tailoring. Which, in fairness, he was.
You’d met when your company had been hired to mow the obscenely large lawn of one of his lesser estates. You remembered being sweaty, sunburnt, and halfway through fixing a jammed mower when Lionel had stepped outside in Italian loafers and a silk robe, sipping a glass of something golden and expensive.
He’d watched you work for an uncomfortable amount of time.
Then: “Are you aware you’re trimming that hedge like you’re wielding a dueling saber?”
You hadn’t even looked up. “You want it done or want it to talk back?”
He’d laughed. Out loud. And that was the beginning.
By some cosmic joke, it had turned into courtship. Intense, relentless, theatrical. He sent flower arrangements the size of compact cars. Took you to dinner in places with names you couldn’t pronounce and wine lists longer than your resume. Proposed after three months. Married you six months after that.
And still, you kept the job.
You weren’t stupid. Lionel had made you sign two prenups before the wedding—one for the Shahbandar estate, and one specifically protecting his private art collection. You didn’t blame him. Honestly, you admired the pettiness.
But it told you everything you needed to know: you were loved, yes. Wanted, definitely. But trusted?
Not quite.
So, you stayed grounded. You kept your income. Your little world that was untouched by his fortune, his staff, his global press coverage.
You still drove the beat-up company van on Mondays, still worked side-by-side with Raul and Jo and the rest of the crew who didn’t give a damn who your husband was. You wore old jeans and tank tops and didn’t flinch when someone catcalled. Half the time, no one recognized you anyway. And that was the way you liked it.
When Lionel asked—again—over breakfast, voice syrupy-smooth and laced with irritation, “Do you take pleasure in making me look like a negligent husband? Honestly, my peers are starting to think I’ve forced you into indentured servitude—”
You sipped your coffee and said, “Then maybe don’t marry women you can’t control.”
He grinned. Bastard.
“Darling,” he purred, reaching over to steal your toast, “I don’t want to control you. I want to spoil you rotten until you forget how to operate machinery.”
You gave him a look. “Then you picked the wrong girl.”
He took a bite of the toast anyway and winked. “Or the right one. Depends on the lighting.”
Later that day, you found a brand new pair of heavy-duty gardening gloves in your locker. Custom-made. Monogrammed.
Because Lionel Shahbandar may never convince you to quit.
You didn’t even notice the blade catch until it was too late.
But he’d be damned if his wife didn’t mow in style.
The heat was miserable—thick, punishing, the kind that clung to your skin like a wet rag and made every breath feel like dragging air through syrup. You’d woken up that morning with a pounding head and the vague, irritable nausea that usually meant something hormonal or vaguely catastrophic. Still, you’d kissed Lionel goodbye, ignored the raised brow he gave you when you passed on breakfast, and climbed into the van with Raul like it was any other Tuesday.
And technically, it was.
Just another posh house with gates too tall and grass too pampered, owned by someone who didn’t know the difference between a dandelion and a dahlia. Raul was already on one of his soapbox moods, ranting about climate collapse and bee extinction while you navigated the mower through the sun-scorched patch near the edge of the garden.
You remember rolling your eyes at something he said—something about how humans deserved to be taken out by sunflowers if they kept building infinity pools in drought zones.
You’d looked up.
You shouldn’t have looked up.
You didn’t see the chunk of forgotten brick under the tall grass until the blade hit it with a sickening clunk—the machine jerked violently, and your hand slipped. Then came a different sound.
Wet.
And bright red.
At first, you couldn’t even process it. It didn’t register as your blood. Just something surreal and awful, like a scene out of a movie. But then Raul screamed. And that did it. The world tilted. Your stomach turned inside out. And suddenly, you were on your knees, clutching your hand, and the grass was turning crimson in fast, sticky circles.
Then—nothing.
You woke to the smell of antiseptic and that faint lemon-and-leather scent that always clung to Lionel’s bespoke suits. You didn’t open your eyes right away, but you felt him—his presence unmistakable, his pacing audible, his voice clipped and too sharp to be polite.
“No, listen to me—listen to me carefully,” he was saying, clipped and cold. “She almost died in your care. You’ll be receiving legal documentation shortly. Don’t speak. Just wait for it.”
But as soon as Lionel realized you were awake, he hung up the phone mid-sentence and strode to your side like a storm in tailored wool.
“Sweetheart,” he said, baritone thick with something dangerously close to panic. His hooked nose twitched slightly as he leaned over you, one hand already cupping your cheek, the other fumbling with the glass of water on the bedside table. “Here. Slowly now.”
You blinked groggily, throat raw, vision adjusting to the clinical white of the hospital ceiling. The world swam in patches—pain, heat, dryness. You accepted the water, let him help you tilt your head, drank.
Then, hoarsely: “Who were you talking to?”
Lionel exhaled slowly, like he’d been dreading the question. “Your company.”
You stared at him.
“I quit,” he said, far too calmly. “For you.”
There was a long, cavernous pause in the room.
“You what?” you rasped, sitting up too fast. The IV tugged at your arm. Your heart did something violent inside your chest. “You what, Lionel?!”
His jaw clenched. “You almost lost your hand today—”
“That doesn’t give you the right—”
“It gives me every right,” he snapped, suddenly fierce, the edge in his voice slicing clean. “I’m your husband. Or does that title only apply when it’s convenient for you?”
“You can’t just decide things like that for me,” you barked, breath catching on anger and disbelief. “You don’t own me.”
“I never said I did,” he growled. “But I damn well love you. And I am not going to sit around while you drag yourself to some sunbaked deathtrap every day just to prove a point.”
You looked away, chest rising and falling with shallow, furious breaths. “Unbelievable. Now I have to look for another job.”
That made him laugh. Harsh. Disbelieving. “Look for another—are you serious? What the hell is wrong with depending on me, hm?” He gestured around the room, toward the private suite, the silent security standing outside the door, the flowers already blooming on the side table. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to live off her husband, darling. And you certainly won’t be the last.”
You didn’t answer.
He stepped closer. “Why do you always fight me on this? When I try to take care of you—when I try to make your life easier—why do you treat it like a personal attack?” His voice was lower now. Hurt. “Is there something wrong with me? Or are you just too proud to ever let anyone help you?”
You looked up at him then, eyes sharp, wet with rage and something deeper. “Because I can’t trust you,” you snapped.
The words landed like a slap.
Lionel froze. “What did you just say?”
“I can’t trust you,” you repeated, voice breaking. “I love you. God, I love you, but I can’t fully depend on you. Not when I signed two prenups, Lionel. Two. Not when you have an exit plan already drawn up if you ever decide I’m too boring. Or too loud. Or too normal.”
His lips parted, stunned silent.
You kept going. “You say I’m yours. You send me flowers the size of Volkswagens and fuck me like I’m the last woman on earth—but you made sure that when you leave, and let’s not pretend you haven’t thought about it, you get to keep your art, your estate, your name, your empire—and I go back to mowing lawns while you go around dating a model."
Lionel was quiet for a long time. He stepped back slightly, his posture straightening, shoulders rising with slow, steady breath.
Then, quietly, “You think I’m planning to leave you for some model.”
You didn’t respond.
“Do you honestly believe I’d spend five years—five years chasing you, marrying you, enduring your bloody gardening schedule—just to one day say, ‘Oh, well, that’s enough of that, time for a Swedish runway replacement’?”
“You’ve done worse to women for less,” you said, voice cold.
His jaw tightened. “That was before.”
“I know,” you whispered. “But the prenups are forever.”
Lionel ran a hand through his thick, silver-streaked hair, pacing two steps away before turning back to you with that familiar, infuriating look of disbelief—equal parts wounded pride and aristocratic exasperation.
“Oh for—bloody hell, you cannot blame me for protecting my assets,” he snapped, baritone cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room like a velvet blade. “You would’ve done the same if you were in my place. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Lionel raised a hand—sharp, commanding, the same gesture that had once made boardrooms fall silent and princes fold.
“No. No, now you’re going to listen to me for once.”
He took a step closer, and you could feel the heat rolling off him—irritation, fury, but underneath it all, something rawer. Sharper. “How many times,” he asked, voice low, “have I offered to help you start your own business? A landscaping company in your name. A brand. A bloody empire of dirt and daffodils. How many times have I asked you to let me invest in you?”
You opened your mouth again.
“No,” he barked. “Answer: how many?”
You exhaled slowly. “Three.”
“Six,” he corrected, nostrils flaring. “Six times, love. And every single time, you turned me down like I’d insulted your goddamn honor. As if letting me help you meant I was buying you. As if accepting anything from me was some fatal blow to your identity.”
You looked away.
Lionel scoffed. “What is it you think I’m trying to do, hmm? Cage you? Domesticate you? What kind of man do you think I am?”
You shook your head. “I just want to stand on my own—”
“You already do!” he roared, and the lion in him cracked through. “You do, darling! You’ve got more spine than half the CEOs I’ve ever met. And yet here you are, talking like I’ve been scheming to replace you with a fleet of Swedes in stilettos.”
He stepped closer again, eyes wild with frustration, voice trembling now—not with anger, but with something deeper.
“You think I married you because you’re pretty?” he asked, softer now, but no less intense. “You think I fell in love because of your thighs in cutoffs and the way you glare when someone mansplains irrigation to you?”
You blinked. “I mean, the thighs probably didn’t hurt.”
He didn’t laugh. Not this time.
“No. I married you because you didn’t give a damn who I was. Because you told me to piss off when I asked for a hedge shaped like Aphrodite. Because you challenged me. Because you looked at me—the tycoon, the collector, the ‘lion of London’—and saw nothing but an overdressed idiot in a silk robe.”
He ran a hand over his face, exhausted.
“I’ve had beautiful women. Models. Heiresses. Actresses who looked at me like I was a lifestyle upgrade. But you—you made me want to stay in one place. To build something. To belong to someone.”
You didn’t know what to say.
So he kept going.
“I signed those prenups because I’m not an idiot,” he muttered. “Because the world I live in is full of vultures and lawsuits, and I’ve been burned before. I did it to protect my name, yes. But also to protect us. Because if this went sideways, I didn’t want you thinking you were just another acquisition.”
He exhaled, looking at you now like he was trying to read between your bones. “But if that’s what you still believe—if you honestly think I’m just waiting to discard you for something shinier—then I’ve failed in every way that matters.”
Your throat was tight. Your eyes stung.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His voice was quieter now. Sincere.
“Don’t crucify me for protecting what I’ve built, love. Because all I’ve been trying to do these past five years… is include you in it.”
You stared at him, every muscle wound tight.
And finally—softly—you asked, “What if I don’t want to be included? What if I just want something that’s mine?”
Lionel nodded, slowly.
“Then we build it. Together. But for God’s sake, darling, can you please let me buy you a bloody chainsaw that doesn’t try to kill you next time?”
You let out a tiny, broken laugh.
And Lionel smiled, just a little. “That’s all I ask.”
You reached for him, tentatively, your uninjured hand brushing his sleeve. Lionel stilled, eyes flicking down to the gesture, then back up to your face with a softness you didn’t often see on him—at least not without it being followed by something smug or suggestive.
“I didn’t mean to…” you started, then stopped, frowning at yourself. “What I said before—I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
He said nothing at first, only moved closer, his hands gentle as he reached out to adjust the blanket around you, then carefully took your bandaged hand in his own. His touch was reverent, steady, but his voice betrayed the flicker of hurt still buried beneath that aristocratic cool.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m not easy to love, darling. I come with paperwork and property lines. I talk too much, I sulk when I lose, and I collect enemies the way other men collect wine. But I never wanted to be something you had to fight.”
You looked down at your lap. “I wasn’t fighting you. I was fighting the idea that if I ever fall, I won’t have anything of my own to stand on.”
He exhaled, warm and steady. “Then let me be what you fall against. Not because you need me, but because you choose me.”
Your throat tightened. Your eyes burned. You blinked quickly.
“Just…” Lionel cleared his throat, looking oddly sheepish. “Stay with me more. That’s all I want. Let me take care of you. Let me spoil you, protect you, hover like a neurotic lunatic if I must—because I’m not trying to clip your wings, sweetheart. I’m just trying to be the lion who guards the den.”
You groaned, immediately dragging your good hand over your face. “Oh God, please don’t start with the lion metaphors again.”
“What? It’s thematic,” he protested, mock-offended. “My name is Lionel. It’s practically prophecy.”
“You know the lioness is the one who raises the cubs, right?” you muttered, side-eyeing him. “The males just strut around, fight other males, then leave after knocking someone up.”
Lionel paused.
A slow, wicked smirk curved across his mouth, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Well,” he purred, voice dropping like honey-soaked velvet, “that explains why I always wake up exhausted after mating season.”
You gaped at him.
Then, without hesitation, smacked him square in the chest with your uninjured hand.
“You’re insufferable!”
He laughed—full-bodied, delighted, triumphant.
“Admit it,” he said, leaning closer, the lines around his eyes creasing with fondness, “you’d miss me if I were boring.”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “Only during off-season.”
He chuckled again, then kissed your forehead—soft, lingering, his palm still warm over your hand.
And just like that, the lion curled himself around you—velvet, claws, and all.
A/N: The person who requested this was @theheartwants-what-itwants so this goes out for you and anyone else!
Warning: heavy smut towards the end
Content: Frank Benson x Wife!reader, spending time with his and readers child, fluff, hurt/comfort
amount of words: 2.4k
P.S.: this actually I think is one of my best fics yet. I actually really love how this one turned out which is saying alot since I suck at writing smut
Frank Benson. When people heard that name, the first thing they usually thought of was power, dominance. But the last thing anyone expected was for him to be such a girl-dad and tender
You had just gotten home absolutely drop dead tired. You had spent the whole day doing nothing but running errands while Frank watched the little one, Abby.
You walked over to the kitchen turning the kitchen light on with a soft click before smelling garlic. There on the counter, he had made you chicken alfredo along with the most heavenly buttery garlic bread.
You were deeply touched since you knew as much as Frank loved your daughter, she was alot to handle yet even when he was tired he made your favorite food.
Next to the food was a sweet note. You picked it up before your brain started reading it in his voice
"I'm a man of few words, but I am not a man of few actions. I know I maybe a hard head, hard to handle, and have the shortest fuse imaginable. But at the end of the day, I want you to know that I love you and care for you. Even if I'm too much of a dumbass to say it sometimes."
It was hard to read the last sentence from your eyes getting a little misty from how much you were touched. You quickly started putting the groceries up before hearing your daughter giggling from the hallway.
You put up the last of the things before walking into the hallway following the sound of your childs giggling before opening the door.
There your husband, the same man who was a military general and used words like guns, was dressed in the brightest pink tutu and the most flimsy paper nails on his fingers.
How was he going to explain this?
As soon as you left to take care of errands, he started cleaning up the house a little before he started cooking your favorite meal. Of course at the smell of food, Abby quickly padded into the room.
"Watcha makin' daddy!?" She asked excitingly. He sighed knowing that he was going to have to break it to her that this was not going to be her meal.
"Im sorry little bean, but this isn't for for you. Im making this for mama. But, I made you some peanut butter and jelly without the crust and with the side of dino nuggets."
"You mean nuggies!?"
"No, nuggets. That's the proper way to say it."
"But it sounds boring!"
"well then take it up with the guy that made english."
Never in his whole life would he think he would be explaining to his child how to pronounce nuggets while cooking but here he was. He knew deep down he should probably let his child have a little fun, but he knew also that he was always going to be himself some how.
As he cooked, Abby bitterly ate her food while sulking jealous of the meal you were going to have. Frank could literally feel his own childs eyes searing into him.
He sighed knowing that this little reign of terror she was having was not going to end any time soon. He finished making the food and put it in some thermal containers before walking over to her.
He sat down on the floor next to her having to hold in a chuckle seeing her look so angry as she ate literal dino nuggets and a sandwich without the crust.
"Would it help if I told you I wasn't having any either?" She thought about it before replying "a little." She said muffled taking a bite.
He sighed knowing what he had to do but unsure he had the strength to do it. "You've asked me this for weeks now, but do you want me to play dress up with you?"
It was like he had said the magic words, her head practically snapping to meet his eyes. "REALLY, DO YOU MEAN IT!!??"
He chuckled as she literally was exploding with excitement.
"Calm down bean, yes I mean it. As long as you make me look dazzling." Saying the word dazzling had never sounded so foreign on his tongue, but he did whatever that made his loved ones happy.
As soon as they both stood up, he was being dragged by Abby. He first though put away the dishes she ate off of so that way you didn't come home seeing it on the floor.
Abby meanwhile trotted off to her room waiting for him while he took care of things. He wrote a sweet note for you before walking to Abby's room.
As he was walking to her room, it felt like he was being dragged into exile, about to meet his fate which was his dignity being dressed in whatever ungodly retna burning colors she had in mind for him.
He was sat on her princess themed bed before she trotted over to her dresser. His frame literally engulfed her small little bed which made him pause realizing how tall he was.
She pulled out a tutu and some pink paper cutting and gluing them into rings with a triangle at the top to look like nails. It felt like though like she was pulling out torture instruments and he was the victim.
But nothing could compare to how bright Abby smiled when she put all of it on him. She clapped and giggled calling him a, "Pretty princess!"
He felt good being able to make his daughter so happy, even if it coated him a bit of his dignity. That's when he heard the door open and saw you trying to hold a laugh in.
Honestly though he saw you as his savior, he put on puppy dog eyes secretly begging you to end his suffering.
"Alright, it looked like you two had fun, but its time for bed." You said chuckling a Frank got up and picked Abby up placing her on the bed.
She pouted before getting comfy beneath the covers and before she was able to complain about bedtime she was knocked out asleep from how tired she was.
He smiled before walking out of the room with you heading in to the living room. Now that Abby was out of earshot, you started belly laughing to which he just accepted since he knew it probably did look ridiculous.
But you knew he only did it because of how much he loved his daughter which touched you deeply. He left for a second to discreetly put away his childs accessories having to remind himself to give it back to her tomorrow as he walked back over to you.
"by the way, I saw the card you made me as well as the food. Thank you for... honestly thank you for everything." You said hugging him close.
He gently wrapped his arms around you giving you the best bearhug. Meanwhile he rubbed your back in soothing circles just letting the moment talk for itself.
But your stomach grumbled still smelling the food he made before he cracked a smirk letting you scamper into the kitchen putting your food on the dining room table before sitting down and devouring it.
He sat down next to you holding your hand as between bites you explained how your day went. "It could have been a lot better. They were out of stock for surprisingly a lot of stuff we needed than I had to literally fight people just so that way I could get our usual medications. Than of all things I bumped into my ex-"
Without even having to look, you knew he stiffened. His grip on your hand tightened subtly that you knew he wasnt happy.
"Did he do anything?" He said in eerily calm voice with a rumble like thunder. "Well... he told me he wanted to patch things up to which I quickly denied. He continued to try and push things and almost tried to touch me before I just left for my over all safety."
He growled lowly and you could almost see a eye twitch from him. He was quite protective of you since he practically heard horror stories about your ex and how he treated you.
But instead of letting rage consume him, he gently brought your hand up to his lips placing a kiss to your knuckles lingering there for a moment. "I hope you know that I'm never going to treat you like he did."
Those words alone hurt you to the core. Not because they were mean, but because it felt like you waited to hear those words all your life.
You tried to hold back tears as you felt like barbed wire bundled up in your throat as you finished your food. He knew though that those words hit close to home, and he intended to make sure that you knew that you were always loved. He put the dishes in the sink for you before turning off the light. He gently held your hand walking with you to bed.
You sighed of relief taking off your clothes and underwire bra that always felt like knives beneath your skin before putting on a night gown.
He meanwhile took off his shirt and jeans only wearing his trousers. As soon as you both got into bed, he held you close moving his hand under your nightgown to caress and rub the skin of your back with his calloused hands.
It felt as relieving as a cold rag to your forehead while sick. Before you knew it, you started to softly cry into his neck holding him as close as you could.
He didn't tell you to suck it up, but neither did he patronize you with why crying is ok. He just was... there, present, silent but most importantly, supportive.
He understood that sometimes, words could only do so much before someones presence became much more comforting than the actual words being said.
He let you cry it all out while he just continued tenderly holding you. As your eyes slowly started to free themselves of all the tears, you couldn't help but admire him.
The way his hands were always there when you needed them, they weren't soft or delicate, but they could definitely act like it. The way his arms and body always welcomed you to cuddle him whenever you felt like the world was too cold or cruel, you always had a place next to him.
Before you knew it, your admiration for him started to turn into sparks of desire. You felt like he accepted you for being vulnerable, and you wanted to show him your most vulnerable self.
You found yourself rubbing your thighs together hoping that the burning ach for him would go away before he caught on. You were scared to ruin this tender moment since it meant so much to you.
But he caught on and understood. He gently kissed your neck before softly asking, "Is the ache between your legs getting too much to handle?"
Even though you two were married, he always, always, always asked for consent and that you felt the same. Even if he knew outright you wanted it, he'd ask anyways.
You nodded secretly begging for this to happen. Once he was given the green light from you, he turned you over to where you were laying on your back before he was getting on top of you.
You felt his hands that were once caressing your back now playing with the hem of your panties while his other hand started taking off your night gown.
He discarded it letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He pulled down your panties a little before kissing the slightly red line across your stomach from where the elastic of your undergarment were.
He then trailed his kisses lower and lower meanwhile pulling your panties down until he took them off. You quickly tried to close your legs as the coldness of the room hit your clit making a shiver go down your spine.
He lowly chuckled before gently prying apart your legs kissing your inner thighs. "I thought you wanted me to help with the ache here, I can't do that if you close these pretty legs."
That chuckle could practically make you come undone already and he knew it. He first just ran his fingers through your slit seeing how wet you were before he coud begin. Your legs meanwhile were already trembling which made him smirk. "I've hardly done anything and your already doused?"
"Frank I swear to god-" You said about to rip him a new one for teasing you before he latched his lips onto your clit making you see stars. He sucked for a couple of seconds before pulling off making you whimper.
"You were saying?" Never in your whole life had you wanted to slap him so hard while at the same time feeling like you were about to orgasm.
Without another minute to go to waist, he latched back onto your clit before starting to plunge a finger into your tight channel making you squirm.
You gritted your teeth holding onto his shoulders trying not to dig your nails into them from how good it felt. He knew you were starting to get close so he added another finger plunging it as the same rate as he sucked.
He removed the hand from your leg then started to trail up your stomach to trace the red lines under your boobs from when you wore your bra the whole day making you even more weaker and sensitive to his touch.
He felt you starting to tighten around his fingers before you had the biggest most explosive orgasm ever. He pulled off your clit with a soft smirk meanwhile his chin was almost dripping in your release. He pulled his fingers out making you whimper at the loss of contact before you saw him lick his fingers clean.
He pulled you back ontop of him, your head resting nicely on his chest. You quickly realized though that he had made that nice dinner for you but he didn't have anything.
"Honey, I'm so sorry, I just realized you didn't have anything to eat." You said looking up at him concerningly to which he chuckled seeing you go from floating on cloud-nine to all the sudden hyper-concerned for him.
He smiled placing a soft kiss to the temple of your head before replying, "Don't worry love, I just had the best dinner ever." He said with a waggle of his eyebrow to which you playfully swatted at him.
After some giggles from the both of you, you both fell asleep happy and content in each other's arms. And for once, life didn't seam so burdensome after all.
Hello! Just wanted to tell you all that my writers block has died and so because of that I am already writing up some of the fics I have in my drafts. So expect a ton of writing to ensue 😈
Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics (or chapters, if you don't have 10 fics), then attempt to tag 10 people!
1. Worth Waking Up
One of the first things you discovered when you started dating Sinclair was that you had very different ideas of what one should do after waking up, especially on a weekend — while you were rarely out of bed before noon, he was up at 6am every morning for his morning run.
2. Patience
You sighed for the fifth time that hour as you stared out of the window, longingly waiting for your husband to come home.
3. To Find Warmth
You joined the military when you were young and stupid.
4. For The Love of Books
Today was a good day.
5. Champagne Problems
You were standing on your tip-toes, trying to peek through the annoyingly high window of the boys’ college, when you were startled by a voice.
6. Sharing Part XI
As soon as you got home from Vegas, Eli threw his suitcase on the floor in the hallway with a groan.
7. Homecoming
Meals were always a reserved affair in the Turpin household.
8. Die with a Smile
Mary was sitting at her favourite spot by the window, watching the world go by as she worked on her current project, a pair of gentleman’s trousers which were to be taken out at the waist.
9. Christmas Party
“I hate this already,” Alexander grumbled as the car began to pull up for you to make your entrance onto the red carpet.
When Colin accepted the role in that romantic comedy, he hadn’t expected the universe to punish him quite so personally.
2. His American Thief
The wooden planks of the dock groaned beneath Judge Richard Turpin’s polished boots as he stepped off the gangway, the salty air of the American coast stinging his nostrils after the long, grueling voyage across the Atlantic. The ship creaked behind him, a lumbering beast of salt and rot that had carried him from London to this strange, burgeoning land. He grimaced as the wind tousled his cloak, his hazel eyes narrowing beneath the brim of his hat
3. Tea, Trauma, and Talons
You closed your eyes.
4. Soft Spot
It all started with a sneeze. A small one, barely there. Then another, and another. You’d tried to hide it, of course—you always did. You tucked your face into your sleeve, turned away from the barn door as if the cold wind was to blame. But Sinclair Bryant noticed.
5. The Lord’s Inheritance
The bed creaked beneath you, cold despite the fire that crackled faintly in the hearth. Your fingers clutched the edge of the linen sheets, breath ragged as your husband’s weight pressed down upon you from behind. The heavy drapery shrouded the chamber in gloom, but you could still see the flicker of your reflection in the looking-glass across the room—hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with the kind of resignation you’d come to know far too well.
6. Sanctum
The file room was dim, the old overhead bulb flickering faintly as you reached for the top shelf, heels clicking softly against the tile floor. You were alone—or at least, you were supposed to be. The rest of HQ had cleared out for the night, save for the few agents still trickling in and out of the range. You preferred working late. No distractions. No one watching.
7. Weight of You
Frank took a long sip of his beer, the bitter edge of it grounding him as he sat in that familiar dark corner of the pub, the worn leather booth creaking beneath his weight. The lighting was low, the air heavy with the smell of wood polish and stale laughter. Around him sat four other men—old army friends, greying and stiff in the knees, all a little heavier, a little more jaded, all divorced like Frank. Only one or two still clung to marriage, and even they spoke of it like a ceasefire more than a love story.
8. Velvet and Gunpowder
Lionel didn’t expect to find you here.
9. Stranded with the Lion
You hugged your legs to your chest, chin resting on your knees, trying to keep your breathing quiet—trying not to sob out loud. The deck creaked beneath you with each gentle sway of the boat, but there was no comfort in the rhythm anymore. It had been a week.
10. Private Curtain Call
Colin put an arm around you, his wife, as you stood before the mirror, gently tugging your earrings free after another whirlwind night.
Tags: @evans23 @coldkidcookieneck @ruzz9 @jacks-valentine @starzeeecat @deepperplexity (I just realized that I don't know ten writers on Tumblr 😅 )
A/N:ok so this is of course from the poll I took as a reward for getting through the second chapter of my series.
warning: talks of danger and death if you squint really hard, minor cursing
Content: Severus x Reader oneshot
amount of words: 1.8k
P.S. : sorry if this seemed rushed. I promised you guys I'd do it this month without realizing I had said that towards the end of this month. So if this feel light weight that might be why
The relationship between the two of you felt like something against the odds. Everything screamed danger. The fact he was a double spy, and even if he wasnt he still had people that hated his guts for a reason he couldn't name. Overall, life just seemed like it didn't favour it.
But, that was never going to stop it. No matter what happened he vowed to constantly stick to your side like glue and make sure you were ok so life didn't have a chance to sink its claws into while you weren't looking.
You two also vowed to keep the relationship a secret. But that secret was something life wanted to let out apparently...
You were doing the usual. teaching when you started hearing whispers coming from the students during class. You thought nothing of it until you may or may not made slower swoops around the classroom to take a good look before your eye couldn't help but catch something.
On one of your favorite students desk was a chart showing who you were most apt to date. Of course now that you had seen it, you giggled and instead of tearing the page out or calling the students out for this, you instead joined in on this little game of fun just to also secretly see if they had caught on.
In horrible writing you looked at the chart and froze. You saw they purposely erased the bar where Snape's was and drew it higher than even Hagrid's. That could mean someone might have either told the student or he started catching on a little.
But the fear quickly died down when you started laughing seeing Lockheart highest knowing damn well he wasn't even close to your type.
"Really, Lockheart? I guess I could almost see something there but honestly... No just no." Your brutal honesty made the children erupt with laughter including the nervous student who thought he was about to go into the light because a teacher caught him.
"Tell me though, do you have any of these silly charts on any other people?" You asked softly. Thanks to your calm reaction, he answered honestly. "No m'am, this is the first time I have ever made a chart like this."
You paused and nodded taking it as truth for now until otherwise. "Alright, but next time, try to make it more... Realistic." You said making the students giggle before they all started whispering a little.
"Your telling me a student was writing a silly little chart about who you would most likely date?" Severus was practically on the verge of exploding for more reasons than one.
"Relax Severus! Let the children have a little fun. Besides, if you don't calm down I wont tell you the rating scores." You said chuckling a little to yourself
To your surprise, he actually calmed down. You followed though telling him the whole thing. You regretted it a little since now he was scared yet again.
He also felt... possesive. The fact the students thought it was some one else secretly made his blood boil. Sure, it was reassuring that the lime light wasnt on you two, but that certainly made him more protective.
"Why would they even think you would date that pompous no brained horn dog" He said bitterly swirling a little the coffee in his cup.
You blushed a little since this was his way of showing that you meant a lot to him. After all, who wouldn't feel good having they're boyfriend go ape-crap after someone thought you were dating someone else.
"darling, why yes he had the brains of a five your old, you can see why the teens swoon over him. We all have had a mindless handsome jock or two in our life. I mean afterall, think of-" Before you were able to finish, it felt like you stepped in quick sand or uncharted territory.
He slowly turned o you with those dark eyes. "Like...who...?" You sighed and finished, "Well... Like James." Practically saying the name felt like you were throwing up poison and Severus didn't like it either.
But amazingly enough, instead of getting moody and dark, he just scoffed and replied, "Honestly that boy made mermaids throw up looking at him."
You quickly laughed realizing this may have very well been the first joke you've heard from him. He smiled knowing how well he roasted James alive before going back to reading the newspaper and finishing his coffee.
Even though he made such a good roast, something told you that this wasnt over. Not yet anyay.
It was now the Yule Ball, a introverts worst nightmare including your boyfriend's.
"Honey, we don't even have to dance. All we have to do is go to the teachers room, say hello maybe clink a few glasses then go back." You said trying to reassure him that he wasnt going to self-implode because he stepped outside.
He sighed nodding, "Very well, lets get this over with" And before you knew it, the two of you were getting dressed and ready.
The entire time, you felt his eyes linger on you longer than usual. Like he wanted to say something but it wasnt quite reaching his mouth. You shrugged thinking that it would come up at some point and you didn't want to rush him.
As soon as you opened the teachers lounge door, you were met with laughter and a sudden warmth. It felt nice and of course you two quickly gravitated towards Minerva.
After visiting and talking for a while with her, you moved on to talk with other people, meanwhile he remained your shadow, always sticking close behind. But he quickly noticed his enemy
Lockheart
Without any wanting, Severus quickly hugged you from behind wrapping his dark cloak around you like a bat while staring down Lockheart.
Lockheart being the dork that he was did not know what the hell was going on but decided to at least leave it alone before he stepped into something he shouldnt.
Meanwhile your face was as bright as a firework. It felt like everyone's eyes were on you. But it faded away as you felt the chill from winter melting not realizing how much warmth his cloak keeps in.
It made sense since he was able to stay hours making potions in his dungeon without a single shiver while you were turning into a Popsicle.
But this also meant the secret was becoming less like a secret and more like a diary left open for everyone to read. You didn't mind it that much, but you had a feeling Severus was going to scold himself later.
But once the party was over, you two started to head back to your shared quarters.
Before you knew it, you were quickly pinned to the wall and kissed like Severus was starving and you were a nice meal. "S-Severus what on ear-" Before you could finish he was already re-crashing his lips against yours.
Of course you started to try and ask questions before he pulled his cloak more around you and brought up his knee gently digging it into your crotch knee grinding making you quickly shut up or else you would let out a moan
Before though he was able to make any more advances, the sound of feet echoed throughout the walls making him quickly pull back.
Instead of being met with a teacher though, instead it was the little boy who made the chart. Severus meanwhile was cursing himself internally.
You pulled yourself together a bit more before you were met with the most excited eyes ever. He finally had a answer as to who you were dating and he was excited.
You bent down so you were eye level with him before saying, "Can you keep a secret?" The boy eagerly nodded before you rose back up ruffling the boys hair before sending him off
He nodded excitingly before dashing to his house's dorm. Severus's muttered something about stupid Gryffindor's to which you let out a chuckle.
Never have you been more grateful for his cloak.
As soon as you two got inside, he was a wreck. "Im sorry if I embarrassed you, really. Its just... I..." He didn't even know how to word himself which was surprisingly since he is a man made of words.
You knew though that sometimes, not even words could explain a situation or feelings well enough. So without a word, He started making coco for you. He didn't make any for himself since in his words 'chocolate is a muggle thing'.
But he would gladly do anything that made you happy. Even if it didn't exactly make sense to him. He sat down next to you and gave you the mug to which you gladly accepted. That hot chocolate was the best hot chocolate you thought you ever had.
Before you were able to compliment him, he curled up on your lap like a cat. His head resting on your thighs and curled up. You felt like you might just squeal from how cute and nice he was being. Of course he was always this way, but when you felt down and he did something like this, it meant a lot more.
You gently ran your fingers through his hair making him smile faintly before taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles.
"I'm really sorry for what I did. I hope I didn't put you in danger. I shouldn't have let my possessiveness take over like that." He said practically beating himself up for what he did. But you understood him and why he did that.
"Its ok, I understand." He let out a sigh before going back to resting on your lap. Throughout the last part of the day, he continued to do small acts of service that made your heart soar.
He was like a raven if it took on human form because he loved bringing you random trinkets or shiny things. Anything that he knew you liked. As always, you put some on your night stand and saved the rest to put on your desk later.
But for now, it was the best part of he day, snuggling into him at night. He rubbed and scratched your back so good you thought you were at a spa meanwhile he placed slow gentle forehead kisses.
He wasnt just a man, he was a gentleman
You placed the trinkets on your desk expecting there to be hundred of questions since you were caught by that one student in the hallway. But instead, you were met with the normal amount of children chatting.
You as usual would walk around the students desks while teaching and you noticed that the bar on the date chart for severus was now all the way up and lockheart barely had a atom of bar.
You chuckled internally knowing that now Severus's honor had been saved
after giving it some thought, I think I may have gone a little overboard adding my own OC's and lore to it. It was extremely fun while making it, but now as I look at it seems so... Tacky. Anyway, I don't like doing things without yall's approval so I have a few options and i'll let my fans decide.
What do I do?
Scrap chapter two and redo it with more canon lore
leave it alone and instead continue with my OC's lore
Leave it alone but make the rest of the chapters more canon
Voting ended onAug 3, 2025
Also no matter what, I will be finishing that oneshot I promised you guys so don't worry!
