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aesopsharpmybeloved · 7 days

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Bound - MAJOR UPDATE

The NEWTs can be quite stressfull. Luckily, professor Sharp knows exactly how to make his young sweetheart relax a bit.

Aah, sweet sweet PWP ❤ Huge thanks to my dear friend and partner in crime @tea-withjamandbread who authored several ideas in this smutty story, and to Maarty for her continuous support 🥰

UPDATE! After I posted this two days ago, I re-read it and realised I hated it. So like 70% of it has been rewritten and almost 2k more words appeared. Oops. So it's basically a new fic 😂

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN, srsly

Bound (14.1k words)

tw: teacher-student relationship, age gap (reader is an adult), explicit sexual content, lights bdsm, light bondage, blindfolded, body shots, masturbation, oral sex, vaginal sex, comeplay, dirty talking, pwp, corn with feelings

During the NEWT exams, some classrooms were emptier than others. For example Potions and Transfiguration both held only about twenty-five students each, because of the complexity of the subjects. However, the same could not be said about the Charms classroom. The number of Seventh years who partook in the NEWTs exam in Charms was quite high every year, the subject (and its teacher) was not only popular, but universally demanded in most work fields. This year was no different. In fact, it seemed to break the record.

You felt like a thousand Galleons once you left the stuffy room. While the Charms classroom was usually a very comfortable place to be, spacious and airy, when filled with nearly sixty nervous young adults, one Hogwarts professor, and two overseers from the ministry, it got quite stifling quite fast. You were rather confident that you did well on the written part of the exam, and you weren’t particularly worried about the practical part that was scheduled for tomorrow, but you knew better than to rest on your laurels. After all, it was one of the things your beloved insisted on instilling within you. So, some extra practice it was - you were certain that he would understand why you sought the warmth of his embrace a little later than usual.

You made your way over to the Owlery to let professor Aesop Sharp know that you would take some time after supper to practise your charms up in the Room of Requirement after dinner, before coming to seek him in his chambers. The summer was blooming, and most of the students were enjoying the warm day, many of them nose deep in their books, preparing for the following exams.

After you’ve climbed the spiral staircase of the tower, you could see Diana was sitting on one of the perches, watching the other owls around her with mild interest. She hooted in greetings once you came into her field of view, and you approached her immediately, letting your finger lightly scratch under her chin. You were the only one allowed to do so for more than a few seconds.

“Hello, girl,” you said softly. A year ago, you didn’t think you’d ever get an owl. The school owls you’d use were, more or less, reliable, and you hardly needed a pet cat, seeing as there were dozens upon dozens of them roaming the castle. You weren’t exactly certain your parents would even allow you to get a pet. You weren’t certain of it even as you handed the nice gentleman a decent sum of money for the impressive greater sooty owl you fell in love with the first time you saw her in that shop. One of your greatest decisions ever, you decided.

—

Your mother nearly fainted when you returned from your international travels sporting a large cage containing the dark bird. Diana released several rather frustrated noises every now and then, less than thrilled to have to limit herself to the enclosed space.

“That thing is not staying,” Father had said after he snapped at Mother to take a hold of herself. “That thing is an owl, father,” you replied defiantly yet calmly. Mind, you knew they most likely wouldn’t be anywhere near as excited as yourself with the purchase, but you had hoped there wouldn’t be any hostility. It would seem you thought wrong. The middle aged man was rather red in the face: “I can bloody well see it’s an owl, (F/N), and it has no place here! This is one of the finest houses in Knightsbridge, not some bloody forest!” You took a deep breath. Damn it, you used the phial of Felix Felicis potion you brewed at the end of the previous term on getting your parents to agree to let you travel by yourself, and left the rest of the potion at Hogwarts. If only you were able to use Accio on it all the way from here…

“Hyde Park’s just around the corner, father. There are plenty of owls there, so it’s not like anyone would think it strange to see one more flying around. Father, please, it’s only for the following month before I go back to school, you won’t even see or hear her.”

Your father lifted a finger in the air, but before he could resume talking, your mother’s voice cut in: “Let her keep the bird, Lionel. She already paid money for it, and she’s hardly going back to Australia just to return an owl… and besides, it’s not…it’s not that bad. I hear that the DeWitt fellow from Kensington had a live falcon present at a formal evening he hosted in his house, and it was apparently a big success with the guests.”

You could hear a small tremble in your hervoice, and she was still watching the owl warily, but at that moment you could nearly hug her. Your father fumed for a few moments, his small eyes switching between Diana, your mother and yourself. Finally, he sighed, looking morosely out of the window: “Fine. But I hear one hoot in the middle of the night, I’m throwing the thing out. What a bloody waste of money…”

You hurried to your room with your new companion, before you could bite back that it was your hard earned money you spent. You didn’t want to risk your father retracting his agreement with Diana staying.

—

You grimaced somewhat at the memory, but then sent a smile Diana’s way: “Don’t you worry, girl, we’re not going back there. I rather think the freedom of the Highlands is more of your style than the busy Hyde Park, isn’t it?” The owl hooted softly, as if agreeing with you. You could hardly blame her - you now knew you were the same.

You then held up your hand, showing Diana the short letter you needed her to deliver.

“You know who it’s for,” a grin adorned your face and in Diana’s expression, you could see the owl equivalent of a good-natured eyeroll. She offered her leg to you to attach the letter to.

“You be nice to him,” you waved your forefinger in front of the owl in a cheeky warning, and she responded in kind, by gently nipping at the digit and then swiftly spreading her wings and leaping off the Owlery window, prompting you to chuckle.

You gazed after her for several minutes, lost in thought. You couldn’t believe that less than three weeks separated you from graduation.

In eighteen days, your time at Hogwarts will be over. You’ll empty your dorm room for one last time, have one last breakfast in the Great Hall as a student, and say many heartfelt farewells to the people you’ve met here over the three years. You would of course stay in contact with your closest friends, like Natty, Poppy, Sebastian and Ominis, and Amit… You’ve been through too much together, too much to just say one last goodbye and begin your lives on your own. But some of the others, like Samantha or Imelda, well, who knew when your paths would cross again.

Sebastian and Natty were both hoping to catch a job as curse breakers at Gringotts, which would offer them a chance to not only become even more capable wizards than they already were in their own rights, but also see the world, get acquainted with more wizarding cultures. Poppy would be joining her Grandmother in her research, as you knew since the day you first met the girl in Beasts class. And Amit was, along with Adelaide, joining her uncle’s business, his desire to learn more about Goblins not having died down over the years in the slightest.

And Ominis? Well, he didn’t know what he wanted to do just yet - and which employer would take him in with his condition - but he seemed happy nevertheless. Similarly to yourself, the last thing he wanted was to return to his family, and having already secured himself a different abode, the lad looked content for the time being.

However, you were certain you were one of the only ones, if not the only one to stay so close to Hogwarts. Even Sebastian planned to leave Feldcroft behind…Seeing as his once home became no more than an empty house, his uncle dead and his sister gone and refusing to speak with him, nothing but memories of his gravest mistake filling the empty rooms, you could hardly blame the Slytherin for wanting to leave it all behind.

And you? Well, you were all set up, weren’t you. A job already waiting for you, and a small house at the edge of Hogsmeade ready for you to move in. Frankly, you were quite excited at the prospect of living by yourself, setting your own rules, running your little household the way you want to, making the space yours.

Thanks to professor Weasley being the greatest (deputy) Headmistress, you had a special permission to leave the castle a few weeks back, so that you could apparate to London and get various items of furniture and such for your rented house.

And, interestingly, the Hogwarts potions master was somehow already present when you suddenly appeared in a little hidden alley a bit away from the Leaky Cauldron.

And since he was already there, he could perhaps tag along to offer advice as to which items he found appealing and appropriately priced in regards to their quality. And since the two of you were already in Diagon Alley, well, you may just as well nip round back to the Leaky Cauldron for spot of lunch, and then why not take a little stroll in some park, arms linked and bodies joined at the hip, enjoying the cool air of early summer.

In a way, it was a little taste of what things were going to be like when the two of you no longer needed to hide, when you were free to show your feelings towards one another openly. And not just that. In a way, one that you were a bit too shy to think about just yet, it was like a taste of what things were going to be like one day, when the two of you would join in a shared life permanently… And somehow, this little secret thought was what made you blush during this little encounter of yours…

Dinner itself was rather uneventful - every so often, your eyes would travel up to the High table and over to the professor. Occasionally, he was already looking back at you with a small smile on his face, sometimes he was focusing either on his own meal, or on one of his colleagues sitting next to him, chatting. However, it seemed the potions master had the ability to feel your eyes on him, for after a few seconds his head would turn your way, and his own dark eyes bore into your own.

And each time they did, you felt a little shiver run through you.

Somehow you managed to actually climb all the stairs leading onto the Seventh floor instead of immediately sneaking off into Aesop’s rooms following supper.

You made your way towards the training room that materialised in the Room of Requirement the previous year. The large chamber never ceased to amaze you with its ingenuity - as you finished your descent down the stairs, you found the room nearly empty with only one item in the middle. An item you recognised instantly - it was one of the puzzles you’d solve during the Merlin trials!

Excited, you took off your blazer and rolled up your sleeves, so as to achieve maximum mobility and comfort.

‘Flipendo ,’ you cast on the upper stone non-verbally, piecing together which way you have to turn it. And once you did, once the symbols matched, the whole thing just disappeared into thin air, leaving another object there in its stead - this time it was a broken statue, and you knew what to do immediately.

You sent spell after spell at the various items that appeared before you. You were handling yourself quite well too, being able to react quickly and send the correct enchantment. There was a brief moment of panic at one point, as the room suddenly filled up to the brim with water, which made casting the bubble head charm that much harder, but otherwise you felt confident and calm.

You only just finished casting a perfect performed Descendo upon a floating training dummy, when you were suddenly plunged into darkness. Quickly casting Lumos, you realised that you were stuck in some sort of… cavern? A stony cavern, that was for certain, and a seemingly inescapable one. A frown riddled your brow.

Stone, stone, what to do with being stuck in a stony prison?

At first, you tried to transfigure one of the rocks that seemed to be closing you in into a smaller object, which hadn’t worked. Depulso had a similarly dissatisfactory effect. Casting Bombarda or Confingo would’ve been entirely too dangerous to even try in this situation, as they would both recoil off the stone and hurt you…

It took you a few more seconds until you remembered: the Gouging charm, of course!

You pointed your wand at one of the stones again and thought as hard as you could: ‘Defodio.’ However, that didn’t seem to do the trick either. But the spell was correct! It had to be! You weren’t aware of there being a different spell you could use in this situation, and as Revelio did not reveal anything special about the stones that had you trapped, you were even more certain that the Gouging charm was the correct one… You just had to cast it right…You squeezed your jaw tighter and tried again.

‘Defodio!’

And again, nothing. Damn it!

You were beginning to feel a little nervous if you were to be honest. The space you were in was rather tight and not exactly well ventilated, and as you attempted to cast the spell again and again, drops of sweat appeared at your hairline.

“Defodio!” you cried out loud desperately, but all that followed was a light pop, as if a small pebble popped in half somewhere among the rocks.

Dear heavens…

Would the Room let you out if you couldn’t perform the spell? Or would you stay trapped inside, slowly losing precious oxygen until you suffocated? Surely not! Deek would come looking for you sooner or later certainly. He’d find you, he’d hopefully be able to get the Room to drop the spell it trapped you with. Wouldn’t he?

“Defodio,” you barely heard, the voice sounding terribly muffled. You had to actually shield your eyes as the stones around you began opening up and the light of the room hit you.

After a few seconds during which your eyes grew used to the light once more, you finally saw the source of the successfully done spell. Aesop Sharp stood some ten feet away from you, wand raised and a little concerned expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

You finally managed to catch your breath which you didn’t even realise grew so laboured and fast during your uncomfortable stay within the cavern: “Th-thank you…”

He didn’t say anything for several minutes, waiting for you to calm down, and only then he spoke, his voice soft and gentle: “Are you alright, (F/N)?”

You felt colour rush into your cheeks and embarrassment seep to your gut. Your eyes fell to the ground in shame. As if sensing your thoughts, the professor spoke again: “This is a very complicated spell, (F/N), even for many experienced wizards - there’s no point beating yourself over not being able to cast it non-verbally,” he came a little closer, and touched your shoulder with his free hand, his thumb rubbing small circles through your shirt.

“As you perhaps heard just now, I didn’t manage to cast it verbally either,” you replied, your voice quiet. Goodness, and here you were, feeling so bloody confident about the practical exam… What if this spell appeared among those you’ll be examined from? What if you fail then like you failed just now? Could one spell ruin the entire exam?

“Darling, whatever you’re thinking right now, stop,” Aesop spoke, his large warm hand sliding down your arm until it reached your own hand, and curled around it soothingly: “not being to perform the spell non-verbally several times coupled with being very much stuck inside a pile of rocks is not exactly good on the psyche - I bet by the time you decided to speak the spell out loud, you weren’t nearly as focused on the correct hand movements as before, were you?”

You didn’t say anything. He was right, though - during your last attempt to cast the spell verbally, you were sort of just wildly flailing your arm rather than doing the short, jerky wrist movement that the spell required.

“Let’s try something…” Aesop said, and then stored his wand away. He moved to stand behind you, wrapping his left arm around your waist and taking a hold of your right hand with his own.

You let him move your hand until it was pointed forward. More rocks materialised out of nowhere and formed something of a small mountain right in the middle of the room. “Why don’t you try to send the spell non-verbally again? If it doesn’t work, take ten seconds to breathe deeply and calm down, then try again. And if that doesn’t work either, another ten second pause, and then send it verbally. The important thing is to perform the spell itself. Non-verbal casting does get you bonus points, but you’ll hardly be chastised if you speak your spells. However, if you stress yourself out because you’re unable to cast the spell without saying the incantation, you’ll find it difficult to cast the spell verbally as well.”

He then gently began moving your hand in the pattern of the Gouging charm, just making sure you remembered the proper movement, before he moved his head to be able to whisper into your ear: “Go on and try. And remember what I told you.”

You shivered a little at the feeling of his hot damp breath upon your skin.

You concentrated your hardest upon the stone formation, moved your wand in the pattern he made you practise again earlier, and thought your loudest ‘Defodio’.

And… nothing.

“Alright - that was a fair enough try,” he spoke, calmly and far from critically, “I could feel your magic, but it was not enough. It was not concentrated enough. Breathe, my sweet,” Aesop whispered again, “Close your eyes, count to ten, and breathe deeply, in and out.”

So you did. You closed your eyes and began counting slowly, timing your breaths so that they were slow, deep and steady.

“Alright - now focus. Imagine the stones already broken in half, an entrance forming among them, and only when you can clearly see it in your mind’s eye, that’s when you send the spell.”

You listened to the teacher, letting his close proximity calm you down enough to be able to once more fully focus. You stared unblinking at the small mountain in the middle of the room, trying to imagine it opening up into a cavern.

Just like when you were standing before a treasure vault, or perhaps an ancient tomb in the Highlands, an entrance materialising right in front of you, after you’ve sent the correct spell on the stony key cube. “Steady,” Aesop whispered again.

‘Defodio,’ you commanded in your mind, your wrist turning in that jerky pattern, and suddenly…

Crackling and popping could be heard, and a hole started to form in the midst of the rock formation, soon reminding you of an actual entrance to a cave. You couldn’t help but turn your head to grin at Aesop, finding him grinning back at you already. Both his arms now curled around your waist: “Splendid job!” He pressed several prickly kisses on the skin of your neck, prompting you to giggle breathlessly.

“My knight in shining armour,” you breathed out, leaning into your beloved further, “first you save me from suffocating in The Cavern of Certain Doom, then you save my performance tomorrow… Although I don’t know how we’re going to arrange you standing behind me while I cast this spell,” you finished with a small chuckle, your hands coming to cover his own around your midsection.

“You’re in luck,” Aesop simply replied, “this spell is not among those that are used during the exam. I can’t tell you anything else, unfortunately. However, I had the chance to watch you for a while before your unfortunate rocky situation, and I wholeheartedly believe you’ve got nothing to fear tomorrow. You’ll be brilliant.”

You smiled and fully succumbed to the comfort of his embrace. “Not as brilliant as you are,” was your whispered answer as you let your head drop to his shoulder in a silent invitation. One look at your parted lips was all it took for Aesop to seize the moment. His lips moulded against yours in a passionate kiss not a second later.

You pocketed your wand quickly to be able to turn around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. Soon your fingers found their place in his hair, and you promptly began messing it up, dragging your fingernails through the soft locks. You accepted his tongue in your mouth shortly after, letting the older man taste you to his heart’s content and ravish your mouth as he saw fit.

One of his hands came to take hold of the underside of your thigh, and he effortlessly lifted your leg up to place it over his hip. You lost your balance somewhat, but Aesop held on tight, his strong arms rendering you standing upright right where you were, as well as making you very aware of the effect your heated snogging had on him through this very close proximity.

You managed to stifle the groan that threatened to escape you, but weren’t able to stop yourself from tugging on his hair harder, which in turn made him produce an unintelligible noise into your own mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he breathed out, closing his hand tighter on the flesh of your thigh, pressing you even closer, “if we don’t stop now, I think I might actually ravish you right here on the floor. Which I wouldn’t be exactly opposed to, mind, but I’d rather not traumatise our house elf friend was he to appear. For one.

“For two, the ground is hardly a very comfortable place to rest afterwards…”

Your breath caught in your throat at his sultry voice. A few chosen words, and here you were, quite ready to actually really let him take you right there, right now.

You were both torn from your little game of seduction by a series of loud sounds coming from one end of the room. You swiftly turned your heads in that direction, watching in bewilderment as a door appeared out of nothing. It was no ordinary door, though - it was camouflaged to look like the wall around it, and had it been closed, you could barely see it was there at all.

From the entrance of the training room, it was virtually invisible.

“I swear, if that is what I think it is, I’m about to start really doubting this place, “Aesop said with a disbelieving expression on his face, “Vivariums to breed bloody Graphorns is one thing, but making a whole new room solely so that a professor can make love to his student sweetheart on a surface more comfortable than a stone floor? Now that’s ever so slightly questionable.”

You couldn’t help the small fit of giggles that overtook you then. Aesop watched in mild amusement as you covered your mouth.

“You know,” you said once your laughter died down, “that’s what this place is all about; it provides without judgement. You really need to use the loo, it creates the loo. It feels like you could do with a bath, it makes a bathtub… And now here we are, the two of us very much needing a nice, comfortable and private space, and, of course, the Room is ready to provide.”

The professor pulled back slightly, a sly smirk on his lips as his hands kneaded the flesh of your hips. “Well… In that case, we’d be quite ungrateful not to make use of whatever the Room prepared for us, wouldn’t we?”

Without warning, your feet left the ground as the potions master bent to toss you over his broad shoulder. You barely avoided a collision with his strong back by bracing your hands against it.

“Aesop!” you squealed out, only prompting him to chuckle smugly and use his free hand to swat gently at your buttocks. “You absolutely incorrigible man…” you sighed then, accepting your fate. You were unable to deny that there was something completely exhilarating about being manhandled like this.

Several months ago, Aesop would’ve needed at least two phials of Wiggenweld potion to be able to just toss you over his shoulder and walk with you like this without doubling over in pain. However, following the extensive exercising he did while his leg was on the mend, Aesop felt healthier and stronger than ever, and he carried you like you weighed nothing at all.

From your position, you were only aware that Aesop was carrying you towards the newly formed room, but you couldn’t see a thing, despite attempting to turn around as much as your current position allowed you. Finally, the professor stopped in his tracks and whistled: “Well I never… this looks quite enticing indeed…”

Slowly and carefully he lowered you down until your feet once again touched the ground, his hands seemingly accidentally lifting your skirt slightly in the process, running over the backs of your thighs.

You immediately turned around to see the new room for yourself, and grinned wide right away. Oh yes, you thought, this was indeed quite lovely.

The new room was bathed in a soft moonlight, and there were at least a dozen candles placed around on the various surfaces within. The flames of the candles danced and swayed slowly, creating a very tantalising atmosphere. There were several pieces of furniture. Before the artificial window stood two comfortable looking armchairs, and to the side of the room was a dresser, a white basin with a matching water jug and a few washcloths upon it.

However, the obvious centrepiece of the room was a (very) large and beautiful bed, with intricate details adorning its dark wooden frame, and covered with deep purple sheets giving off a silky shine. It looked incredibly inviting, and you had to restrain yourself from jumping straight among the copious amount of pillows.

The Room of Requirement outdid itself indeed, it was one of the most beautiful if not the most beautiful bedroom you ever laid your eyes on, and it seemed Aesop agreed with you in this regard: “Now I feel a little self-conscious about your first time being among the mismatched chaos of my aunt’s cottage to be honest…”

You could not help but grin at the teacher: “Oh, I thought it was quite charming, actually! However, rest assured that it matters very little to me whether we are at your aunt’s cottage, in your chambers, or in this spectacular room. I’m just glad to be there with you.”

Aesop smiled at your words with the kind of smile that always made butterflies flutter within your stomach, and this time was no exception. You never understood his insistence that you deserved better, someone younger, better looking, who hadn’t made as many mistakes as he.

In your eyes, he was perfect in his imperfections, and handsome beyond all reason.

You barely noticed your hand glide over his prickly cheek, your thin finger tracing the edge of his lips. His eyes fluttered a little under your tender touch, and his look was devoted and filled with adoration. And when you suddenly gripped his tie just below its knot and pulled him towards you, you were quite surprised to feel a very similar sensation.

Aesop too held onto your blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie, and he also used it to pull you closer for a passionate, nearly bruising kiss.

The kiss was much too short however, as Aesop parted your lips mere seconds later in order to release a hearty chuckle, for he noticed your accidental synchronisation as well. The pause before another kiss was not horribly long though, and soon the professor was very much snogging the living daylights out of you, something you definitely didn’t mind.

“You know,” he murmured during one of your brief breaks for air, voice low and a little hoarse, “you gave me something of an idea…”

“Oh? What sort of idea?” you mumbled in reply, your fingers slowly probing at the lapels of his overcoat before sneaking down to unfasten the buttons of his waistcoat. The potions master was smiling as he watched your growing desire, and his grin widened even further upon your whispered question. His dominant hand once more closed around your tie, now over the knot itself, and pulled down. The tie grew looser around your neck until it slipped from its knot entirely, remaining hanging in Aesop’s hold.

“You see, I wondered whether I could perhaps make use of this. And my own tie as well… Tie you by the wrists to the bedposts, spread you nice and wide for me, then have fun making you come apart for me again, and again, and again…” he purred into your ear, marking the end of his sentence with a quick nip at your earlobe, prompting you to shudder noticeably.

“So?” he whispered again, “what do you say?”

The smug bastard, you thought, grinning. He knew very, very well just by looking at you, that refusal of his proposal was the very last thing on your mind, the first electricity like impulses of impending lust fluttering through your core. Aesop smiled and started kissing a hot trail over your throat, but otherwise made no further advances.

“I need an answer, my love…I need you to say it,” he reminded after another minute or two, and you belatedly understood his restraint in taking things further just yet.

“Y-yes, Aesop” you finally replied, voice a little shakier than before.

“Good,” came out of his mouth as little more than a sigh, and his hands slid up to begin undoing your crisp white shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked under the waistband of your skirt in the process. You watched almost mesmerised as his large long fingers made easy work of the small, delicate buttons, all the while his mouth latched onto your neck again.

He kissed the newly uncovered skin after he’d slipped the soft shirt down your shoulders. Hot tongue glided over your collarbones and the clever fingers slid down the sides of your bosom before taking hold of your waist. His head dropped further and he nuzzled his face into the cleavage of your chemise before kissing at the path in-between your breasts, as much as the silky material covering them allowed him anyway.

He raised his eyes slowly and waited until your gazes connected. While his cheeks were slightly flushed and his dark eyes made even darker by the growing arousal, there was also that cheeky glint within them you were so fond of witnessing. It made another shiver run through your frame. The reason was simple: every other time Aesop had this look in his eyes, you knew he was going to say or do something that would plaster a nearly permanent grin on your face. Utter some deeply ironic quip, long-suffering comment concerning his students, or offer some rather cheesy pick up line.

However, when he got this look in his eyes as the two of you were about to retire to the sheets, it meant a single thing: You were not leaving this bed tonight.

He bent even further, his lips making contact with one of your nipples, which was visibly perked under the thin chemise following his previous actions. The sharp sting of his crooked teeth on the sensitive tissue made a barely audible mewl escape your open mouth, and when your lover’s tongue circled the teat through the undergarment, your knees buckled somewhat.

His chuckle against the now damp material of your undershirt didn’t help much either.

“I can see we best get you to a seating position… Can’t have you tumble down for me just yet, now can we…” he said, sounding very satisfied with himself.

He guided you to the edge of the bed and sat you down. The mattress felt firm yet comfortable, but you didn’t really have time to ponder about it for too long, as the potions master kneeled before you. He took hold of one of your feet and propped it up on his upper thigh so that he could unfasten the laces on your boot. And once he did, his large hands slid over your leg appreciatively, fingers teasing at the stocking covering it. Your skirt was lifted a bit to reveal the soft, milky skin of your upper thighs, as well as the simple elastic garter holding the hose up.

Aesop made quick work of it, and seemed to be immensely enjoying slowly peeling both the garter and the stocking off your leg, dragging his nose and lips over the skin of your knee, your shin, your instep. The discarded clothes landed somewhere on the floor behind him, and he focused his attention on your other leg.

Once you were completely barefoot, he raised a single finger in a silent request for you to give him a moment. He shifted to sit on the ground instead, and started undoing his own heavy boots, haphazardly throwing them to the side once they were loose enough for him to slip his feet out of them. With a barely audible grunt, he stood up again, rose to his full height, and made the height difference between the two of you greater than ever.

There was a small predatory glint in his eyes as he towered over you, but he remained so gentle still, raising his hand to merely caress your cheek with utmost gentleness. You happily leaned into his touch, turning your head a bit to be able to press a kiss against the heel of his palm.

“I’m going to need you to scoot further back on the bed, love” he requested in a quiet, unreadable voice, but you didn’t hesitate to comply.

You only just managed to sit back enough for your entire body to be upon the bed, before your back made sudden contact with the mattress behind you. As it turned out, as soon as there was enough space on the bed, the potions master nearly leapt up upon it and on top of you with the ferocity of a wild thing, using his hands to pin yours above your head on the mattress, before rendering your entire body immobile using his body weight. You felt the low rumble of his laughter all over you, saw the irresistible smirk on his mouth, his face right above yours. Without further ado, you connected your lips again.

You couldn’t help but grin when he finished the kiss with a playful nip at your lower lip and scooted back in order to rid you of the rest of your garments. He popped open the button of your skirt, and unabashedly tugged it down along with your drawers.

“Aesop Sharp, you truly are an insatiable man…” you muttered amusedly, prompting the teacher to snort. Soon, his palms again covered your thighs and began sliding up, excruciatingly slow, pushing the chemise up inch by inch. He always did this part slowly, almost reverently, lapping up your naked form with his eyes just like he did that very first night…

And like that first night, you were justly bothered by the obviously unfair difference between your states of undress. You were quite ready to comment on it too, after the last piece of your clothing joined its companions on the floor, but found yourself speechless after your lover moved to straddle your waist, your previously discarded tie in hand along with his own. When did he even take it off?

“May I, dear?” he asked again, taking your hand and moving it above you at a slow pace, in case you had changed your mind about the whole thing.

You felt your face burn as you nodded: “Yes, Aesop…”

Soon thereafter, Aesop was securing your left wrist to one of the bedposts using your Ravenclaw tie. You noted how careful he was tying you to the bed, constantly making sure the tie wasn’t squeezing your wrist tight enough to cut off your blood flow, but also that there was no way for your hand to get free following any sudden harsh movements. Your other hand was promptly taken care of as well, and Aesop moved back to sit across your hips and admire his handiwork.

The obvious hunger in his eyes made more blood rush into your cheeks, and your hands balled into loose fists.

You were completely naked before him, physically and mentally, vulnerable and defenceless… And yet you felt entirely comfortable with the situation. You felt exhilarated and excited as to what Aesop was about to do to you. The man himself seemed content to simply touch and observe you for a while, his warm hands caressing your body everywhere he could reach, mapping your curves, connecting your freckles and moles using his fingers.

“Might have to re-tie you later,” he mused out loud in a low voice when he dragged his digits over your arms, making your body break out in goose flesh and making you squirm slightly at the ticklish sensation. “Oh?” you asked, your eyelids heavy with anticipation. You didn’t expect his next words to make a tremble run through you, but they sure did: “in case I want to flip you on your hands and knees instead…”

Seeing your reaction, another predatory grin spread on Aesop’s features: “Oh, this is going to be fun… For now, though, I think it’s only fair you’re not the only one disrobed.”

Aesop began to take off his clothes then. First to go were his overcoat, jacket, and the waistcoat you unbuttoned previously, all of which the potions master shook down and away in one go. However, then he must’ve decided that a bit more teasing is in order, and each following article of clothing was removed slower than the last one. Aesop was fixing you with a smug smirk as he slowly shrugged the suspenders off his shoulders, and started unbuttoning his own white shirt.

You licked your lips and your fingers flexed on their own accord as he revealed his hirsute chest.

That made him grin even more. He knew you loved to touch him, that you loved to run your nimble fingers through the hair on his breast, to pull on it, to bury your face in it to inhale his scent. He loved when you did that too. However, right now he was rather enjoying witnessing you like this even more.You remained silent but inhaled shakingly when he started to unfasten his trousers, revealing the sizable bulge in his pants.

A relieved little sigh left his mouth: “Finally. Those were getting uncomfortably tight… Then again, I hope to get into something even tighter later…” The potions master slowly untied the lace of his pants and slowly pulled them down.

His erection sprung out from its cottony confines, and your mouth watered at the sight of him. Your thighs squeezed together as much as they were able to, considering the tall man was still straddling you, and you found yourself perhaps slightly desperate to continue.

Just seeing Aesop like this, half naked, his large cock throbbing, his inhibitions tossed out of the window, and his gaze positively ravenous did inexplicable things to you. Your already swift heartbeat quickened up further and your womanhood dampened with sheer lust.

You watched in fascination as his own fingers wrapped around the stiff penis, and he began to stroke himself slowly. Merlin, while you weren’t able to touch him, you could recall the feel of him inside of your hand perfectly, the organ hot and thrumming under your fingertips, getting even more sensitive at its mushroom-like pink tip, out of which a small clear droplet of fluid spilled already.

He shifted somewhat and used his feet to spread your legs a little bit, just enough for him to slide the shaft into the gap that appeared between your thighs, dragging it through your damp folds and over your swelling lovebud deliciously. A noise so quiet you almost struggled to hear it yourself snuck out from your throat and you swallowed heavily, squirming at the teasing. He pumped his hips a few times, enjoying the sweet friction and riling you up further.

He chuckled then, though it was audible in his voice that he wasn’t nearly as calm as he perhaps pretended to be. His breath was definitely shorter than it had been, and the rise of his eyebrows was absolutely unmistakable.

He remained stationary for a little while, nestled within your legs, before a low chuckle rolled through him: “My apologies, dear, I seem to be getting terribly ahead of myself.” He braced his arms on the mattress next to your ribs, and slightly awkwardly climbed off the bed, mindful not to trip over his own undone trousers.

He removed his socks, then fully took off the dark breeches, his drawers soon following. He took his sweet time carefully folding each discarded article of clothing, which contrasted with all the other clothes that were haphazardly thrown on the floor previously.

You watched his every move; someone as tall as Aesop shouldn’t be able to be this elegant in their movements, especially so during an activity as simple as removing one’s clothing, yet he managed perfectly. It was actually nearly mesmerising to watch him.

You heard a dark chuckle when he turned to the dresser to place his folded clothes onto it: “Oh, Room of Requirement indeed! This is exactly what I was thinking about just now,” he said, seemingly more to himself than to you. He slowly turned around to show you what he discovered on the piece of furniture. It was a long stripe of soft-looking deep green fabric, a little wider than a ribbon. It took you several seconds to understand what he intended to do, by which point he was already sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. “What do you think? Do you trust me, my love?” he asked gently, reaching out to touch your hot cheek, calloused fingertips dancing over the smooth flushed skin in gentle patterns. You thought about the idea for a little while, swallowing nervously. It all came down to a simple fact:

You did trust him. You trusted him absolutely.

You didn’t really know what to expect from the experience of being both bound and blindfolded, though. What if not being able to touch him, or even see him at all would make it uncomfortable for you? Or what if the lack of sight would make the sensations too intense? It was yet another unknown for you. But then again, so was sex itself mere months ago. And Aesop was so completely brilliant, guiding you through all of it, holding your hand, and being so patient and sweet with you. Every single day, you discovered together what worked for one and didn’t for the other, staying respectful of one another’s boundaries and feelings.

It was so easy with Aesop. It was amazing with him.

You knew you needn’t have ever worried. After all -

“If anything starts being too much, if it gets uncomfortable, even a little bit, just say the word and I’ll immediately stop and release you,” Aesop said sincerely, still stroking your cheek tenderly. You couldn’t help but smile at him, channelling all of your love for this man with your eyes.: “I trust you completely, Ace.”

The professor grinned in reply, his hand squeezing the piece of fabric a bit tighter. He leaned down to place a single kiss on your pliant mouth, and then tied the blindfold around your head. It indeed was as soft and smooth as it appeared, but it blocked out way more light than you would’ve thought a thin stripe of cloth like this one could. That is, you were suddenly plunged into absolute darkness, which disoriented you momentarily.

Nothing happened for at least a full minute, no touching, no kissing, if you didn’t hear Aesop’s soft breathing right in front of you, you would’ve nearly thought he left, which was of course silly.

But then… First thing you felt was a warm body descending upon your own once more, both enticingly and comfortingly, a pair of arms coming to curl around your back. Then, a hot pair of lips claiming yours in a slow kiss. Finally, his breath teased at your earlobe again: “Could you do me a favour, dear?” he asked, sounding more playful than ever. Your mind felt quite clouded over, but you managed a very eloquent ‘huh?’. However, even in your heavily distracted state, you were sure that smug smile was still plastered on his face: “Would you please test your restraints for me?”

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips, but you decided to humour him anyway. At first you tugged at the neckties in several short bursts. That, unsurprisingly, did absolutely nothing. So you decided to truly try, and put your entire strength into an attempt to loosen the restraints enough to get free. You were sweating and breathless by the time you realised there was no way for you to get your hands free. Without magic, that is.

“So, my dear… Are you able to free yourself?” Aesop whispered against your lips, his large nose dragging against your own in a manner that was contrastingly cute compared to the delectably filthy sound of his voice and the even filthier unspoken promise.

“No, I’m not.”

”Good.”

And not a second later were you gasping in surprise which swiftly turned into a moan of pleasure as the professor’s mouth latched itself onto your breast, his teeth worrying your sensitive nipple rather roughly. Aesop bit and he sucked in the way he knew you loved, and he always did so until it became nearly painful, at which point he stopped and focused his attention on your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

Normally, you’d be dragging your fingers through his hair and tugging on it, but now all you were able to do was to squirm and accept his merciless ministrations. Every now and then he pulled away slightly in order to blow cool air onto the teat, prompting it to harden even further than it already was.

You could only imagine your nipples being raw red and swollen when he finally lifted his head up again. They felt so very tender, and your quim was throbbing longingly. “Now what do we have here?” he asked lightly, clearly enjoying himself immensely, “another lovely thing I can use…”

Did the Room create another object? What could it be?

You gasped loudly when something cold and liquidy hit your collarbone and poured down between your breasts to further spill down your sides and into the little hollow of your belly button. A strong scent hit you then - is that Firewhisky?! While you didn’t enjoy the taste of the liquor, you couldn’t deny its smell and the alcoholic vapour combined with your current state of arousal made for one sensual mix.

And the mix was made even more sensual when Aesop’s mouth proceeded to lick the alcohol from your skin, being very meticulous in his effort not to let a single drop go to waste. After he’d finished by drinking the last few drops from your belly button, he gave a satisfied grunt: “Hm, my sweet - I don’t think I ever want to drink Firewhisky a different way…”

You were now able to hear soft sounds of skin on skin, and another small sigh left your mouth. You truly wished you could see him, as you didn’t doubt he looked completely delectable. In your mind’s eye, you did see him; he was half hovering over you, half kneeling upon the bed between your own legs, slowly stroking himself while he played you like a violin, plucking at all the right strings. He repeated the process a few more times, pouring and licking the liquor off your body, mindful that it didn't get onto the more sensitive bits, all the while audibly pumping himself and groaning at the combined sensations.

It was complete and utter hedonism, and bloody hell you loved it…

“A-Aesop…” you sighed. You could smell his musk and the Firewhisky, and it was driving you positively ravenous. Not being able to touch him or even see him was only adding to the desperation. “Hmm? What is it, my sweet?” came from above your navel, Aesop’s breath cooling the damp skin and making you shiver, the words very nearly purred. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. You didn’t actually know what exactly you wanted to ask for - the only thought on your mind was him. You just wanted more of him.

There was a bit of shuffling; you felt the change in pressure on the mattress around you, and soon he was straddling you again, this time higher up your chest. He was very careful not to actually sit on you and potentially squeeze something too much. His scent got stronger, and the soft sounds of his hand languidly sliding over his shaft louder. “What would you like, dear?”

You could feel your cheeks redden impossibly, and were all of a sudden a bit glad for the fact that you couldn’t see him. Noiselessly you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out obscenely. A chuckle was your sole answer before long fingers slid into your hair to stroke it: “I rather think it’s my turn to make you feel good, sweetheart, not vice versa,” he said quietly, but you couldn’t mistake the little tremble in his voice.

“Please…” you whispered back, before opening your mouth again. Aesop’s hand slid back from your hair and he caressed your cheek instead, before putting two fingers on your tongue and making you open your mouth even more. You instantly any recognised the next thing to touch your tongue. You closed your lips around the engorged glans, and began to run your tongue around it, rolling it in your mouth and worrying at the slit at the top. You then hollowed out your cheeks to add suction to the movements of your tongue on him.

His breath shuddered, and the hand on your cheeks tensed somewhat when you began bobbing your head up and down as much as you were able to in your position, releasing soft groans every time you managed to take him in further. Soon his own hips joined into the slow rhythm, and he used his hand to guide your head along even further.

The musky scent of him, the slightly salty taste, his beautiful sounds, oh, he was absolutely intoxicating. You licked along the defined veins of his cock, no doubt looking a right slobbering mess, but neither of you were capable of caring. If your hands were free, you'd be gently kneading at his bollocks, or perhaps toying with his nipples, but you had to admit, being restrained like this made for a very heady experience as well…

“Mhm, f-fuck,” he grit out before a hard thrust forward, one that guided him all the way in. You felt the tickle of his pubic hair on your nose, felt him twitch inside of your throat. You breathed deeply, fighting your gag reflex, the fabric covering your eyes dampening slightly with the tears that burst out following your efforts. You swallowed around the heavy prick, prompting another choked sound from your lover.

The hand that was holding your cheek before tangled into your hair, and closed into a fist around it just enough to make you feel the pull, but not any pain. “I could just come right now-” he said, his voice low and dripping with pleasure, “paint the inside of your throat…” Your eyes fluttered under the blindfold. You wouldn't mind. The few times he allowed you to actually finish him using your mouth were completely glorious. “But that’s no fun, considering I’m planning to ruin you before I even fill that sweet little cunny of yours…”

And then, with what seemed like a lot of effort, Aesop loosened his hand on your hair and pulled back and out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva clinging onto his tip still before separating, and falling unceremoniously down on your neck.

You heard him breath heavily for a few minutes, calming himself down a bit to be able to carry on with your little play. He moved back so that his legs framed yours again and his hands braced on the mattress on each side of your head.

“I rather think it’s time to make you cry out for me , my dear.”

Before you were able to gather your bearings, he claimed your lips in a filthy hot kiss, his tongue probing and penetrating, immediately overpowering your own into submission. You could taste the Firewhiskey he lapped up off your skin, and were sure he could taste himself on your tongue. You only sighed into the incredible kiss, letting him take absolutely everything he could possibly want. “You are driving me mad, (F/N)...” he muttered against your lips, a sense of urgency in his words, and ran his hands over your arms. They were beginning to feel quite numb if you were honest, but Aesop’s touch still made your skin break out in gooseflesh, and the promise of more pleasure to come made you completely uncaring towards any numbness.

Using his hand, Aesop turned your head to the side to be able to bite down on your pulse point, and he once more began to descend down your form. A trail of kisses and little bites led him back to your breasts, and he couldn't resist flicking his tongue over your poor, oversensitive teats, which made you whine quietly and toss your head around a little. Your thighs were rubbing against one another unconsciously, as you were trying to bring at least a little bit of friction to your soaking wet cunt.

“Oh, I don’t think so, love,” Aesop said once he noticed your efforts, some of his smugness seeping back now that he wasn’t root-deep in your throat, and forced his own leg between yours, “as I said - my turn.”

You felt terribly cold when he pulled away somewhat, immediately missing the warmth of his strong body. Your legs were then mercilessly spread open, exposing your nearly aching womanhood to the cool air of the chamber and making you gasp. You heard what sounded like a growl leave the man who was currently digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of your thighs where he held them, no doubt leaving small bruises in his wake.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” he mumbled, further opening your legs, “I wish you could see yourself right now… See yourself the way I see you… So beautiful. So sweet and lovely, all spread out like this. Like a feast ready to be devoured...”

A single finger slipped across your seam, dipping within your folds teasingly before dragging over your swollen clitoris. “You are absolutely drenched,” Aesop remarked, the urgency in his voice coming back. Though he said his words lightly, airily almost, you could feel what felt like a snare drum in your veins. You were like prey face to face with a predator, and you knew that he would strike any second now. Your thighs trembled in anticipation.

And while you half expected it, it still caught you unawares when he lunged down, burying his face between your thighs. His lips, tongue and teeth all at once began an intense assault on your most primal senses, the relief of having your need finally attended to combined with the need itself forced a choked cry out of your throat, and for a second you couldn't comprehend why you couldn’t feel his hair between your fingers, when your hand was clearly reaching for it.

No, your hands were instead balled into tight fists and you shuddered violently. Your lover was groaning in pleasure as he licked and sucked at your damp skin before letting his tongue delve into your fluttering opening, one of his hands letting go of your leg and coming in to help. His calloused thumb quickly found your lovebud, and began to rub it in a circular motion, in the same rhythm in which his tongue thrusted inside you.

Because of the absence of sight, it was like you could feel every single sensation twice as intense. Aesop’s little grunts as he devoured you, his thumb relentlessly worrying at your clitoris, that sweet, sweet sting of his beard on your tender skin, and the complete inability to do anything about any of these things, bound as you were, made the little electric sparks that announced an impending climax approach much quicker than usual. Mind, Aesop was perfectly capable of making you come within mere minutes, but the teacher was fond of taking his sweet time riling you up, and in turn making sure you were ready for him to fully take you.

Two fingers pushed in alongside his tongue in search of that hidden bundle of nerves that never failed to make you moan for him. And find it they did, swiftly and precisely.

You didn’t expect the orgasm to rip through you the moment the tips of his digits bumped into it, but here you were, crying out embarrassingly loudly and arching your neck and back as much as you were able to, while your toes curled and the sudden pleasure made your body feel like it was on fire. It was obvious your lover didn’t exactly expect it either, if his little gasp was anything to go by. His mouth left you, but his hands remained where they were, the fingers inside you actually pushing against your walls with every contraction of them, stretching them open.

“My, my…” he said a little smugly as you still writhed under the sensations, your breathing laboured and your heartbeat almost too loud for you to hear him, “that was quite unexpected. However, very, very much welcomed. In fact, I rather think I’d like to do that again.” And without further warning and without you having any time to come down from your high, the teacher dove right back, his mouth returning to your entrance, and his devilishly clever hands doubling their intense assault. And just like that, you were thrown right back into the toe-curling sensations, your body so bloody sensitive, yielding to Aesop like he was its true master. Despite having just climaxed less than two minutes ago, you felt bloody close to the edge once more, and Aesop seemed hellbent on mercilessly shoving you over it again, lapping up at your fluttering entrance like a man starved.

Then however, as his fingers started to pump quicker inside you, making sure to hit that spot again and again, his mouth was forced to retreat, and he instead used it to suck at your lovebud instead.

Another sudden and earth-shattering orgasm flooded over you in a truly ridiculously short amount of time, and now you were trembling all over, your thighs shaking nearly violently. You weren’t even aware of the surely whorish sounds you were producing, but your sweetheart obviously appreciated them, for you heard him growl: “That’s it, my sweet - sing for me…”

This time he didn’t stop his ministrations even for a second as you came on his fingers and mouth a second time, and you remained a moaning, blubbering mess. You could feel a film of sweat covering your inflamed form, your own heart hammering in your ears louder that the bells of the Bell tower.

It was… It was actually becoming too much in the span of such a short time, and you were beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the unstopping pleasure, overstimulation setting in. Your dry throat burned from the sounds you made, and as yet another orgasm approached you, fast, intense, and feeling destructive, you knew that your limit would have been reached after that.

So you gathered up all of your strength, all of the sense you were able to muster at the moment (which wasn’t a lot but it was hopefully enough for you to be able to say a single word), and you took several shallow breaths, fighting more moans that were bubbling in your throat.

“J- ah! J-Jobberknoll!” you managed to squeak out before another powerful burst of pleasure rolled through you and you cried out once more, the cloth over your eyes once again getting wet with your tears, the sensations too much.

Too much! Too much!

However, less than two seconds later, it all stopped entirely, the fingers retreating from your pulsing heat, the mouth ravishing your clit disappearing, and a pair of strong arms taking gentle hold of your hips instead. You shuddered out a soft sound of relief.

One of those strong hands softly touched your face and caressed your cheek. “Are you alright, (F/N)?” Aesop asked, the concern in his voice winning over the obvious arousal, “did I hurt you?”

It took you at least a minute but possibly even more to gather your wits about you, to catch a breath, to stop feeling like you were either going to faint right there or climax anyway despite no longer being stimulated. All the while, Aesop’s hand was stroking your cheek, the other holding your hip still, and the teacher daren’t move.

“I-” you finally managed to grit out, your voice sounding foreign to your ears, shaky and hoarse, “N-no, you didn’t hurt me, b-but… it was becoming too much. I’m sorry…”

You heard him click his tongue reproachfully: “What did I tell you about apologising for stopping me when you want me to stop?” You took another several seconds to reply: “... Not to.”

“Exactly. If anything, I’m proud of you for having spoken up,” he said quietly, caressing your hair in praise. You opened your mouth a few times, and we're just about to ask for some water, when something cool touched your lower lip. You swiftly recognised it as the rim of a goblet, and eagerly opened your mouth further. Aesop carefully helped you take several large gulps of water, soothing your dry throat. Once you were done drinking, your lover put the goblet away again, probably where he found it in the first place, and again stroked your cheek.

Do you want to fully stop? It’s absolutely alright if you do,” he said then, his fingers tracing the features of your face with utmost gentleness. “N-no!” you replied, perhaps way too quickly, but completely sincerely, “No, no, I don’t want to stop, I just-... I just need a few minutes.”

The professor’s body covered your own again, bringing on a beautiful sense of comfort. “You can have as much as you want, dearest… is it alright if I kiss you in the meantime?” he asked, and you could feel yourself melting a bit on the inside.

Yes, the older man very much was capable of turning into nothing less than a ravenous beast during your tender fun, but was completely ready to stop the very moment you showed any discomfort, and even ask permission for a kiss after he just made you come twice, face buried in your quim.

“P-please,” you whispered only, raising your head a bit in a blind search of his lips. You didn’t have to search for very long at all, as the hot mouth covered your own in a kiss so gentle, it contrasted your previous passion beautifully. However, that doesn’t mean this kiss wasn’t passionate.

After all, you could taste the proof of your own arousal and pleasure on his lips and tongue, and it was such a strangely heady sensation, you felt your core flutter again.

“Mhm…” your lover groaned between kisses, “can you taste how delicious you are? How amazing you smell? You are like bloody ambrosia to me, and I’ll never stop craving more. I could come just like that, just devouring you like so, forcing those sweet sounds out of you. Almost have, just now…” You proceeded to whimper into the next kiss, his words making the primal thing in you purr happily.

“A-Aesop… I-... you can continue… please…” you whispered against his lips. You could feel him smile, his hands once more going to your hips and massaging them shortly. “Are you certain, (F/N)? We can wait a little more, if you need. Do you want more water?” he asked.

“N-no…” you replied, “no, I'm fine. Please, continue.”

He pulled back again then, and you could feel his engorged glans against your opening. You were already taking a deep breath, preparing for the penetration, when instead the teacher’s cock slid right along your seam and over your sweet spot, making you shudder in both pleasure and mild frustration. He repeated the motion several times, each one making you feel you’re about to go mad.

“You have to tell me what you want, my love,” your sweetheart whispered, his voice betraying the fact that he was barely restraining himself now too. You were already red as a salamander, but you still felt even more blood rush to your cheeks.

“F-... Fuck me, Aesop!” You breathed out.

There was a few seconds of pregnant silence, but then the potions master chuckled gleefully: “Merlin’s beard, love… Words one could consider crude, but from your lips… Like a siren’s call… And your call is always my command.”

However, before he could finally line up with the entrance into your warmth depths, you spoke up once more, a hint of embarrassment colouring your voice: “B-but wait! Can you… uh, can you please take the blindfold off? I need to see you…”

Instead of laughing or refusing, Aesop gently caressed your cheek and moved his hands to remove the blindfold. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s get this pesky thing off, shall we?”

Even though the room was quite dim, having spent long minutes in complete darkness, it took you some time to adjust to the light. You blinked repeatedly, your vision a little blurry, but soon your eyes focused on your lover. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. Aesop too was smiling down at you, his eyes filled with both love and lust, pupils so dilated they made the teacher’s orbs look entirely black. His cheeks were reddened, and you could see the area around his lips glistening damply with the proof of your desire.

“You know,” he said gently, “I also prefer it when I can see you, see you fully, that is… I love looking into your eyes when you come for me…”

Once more his hands took hold of your cheeks, and he dipped his head to give you another deep kiss.

“Ready?” he asked, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes and across your sweat-slicked forehead. You beamed up at him, drunk on your pleasure and your love: “You take such good care of me, Aesop… Yes, I’m ready.”

The older man gave you another shiny grin and sat back on his heels. He grabbed his throbbing erection in his right hand, and gave himself several slow strokes, using his index and thumb to play with his foreskin, pulling it over his glistening glans halfway before pulling it back again, your eyes watching his every move and your womanhood fluttering in anticipation.

“Of course, my love,” he said, “After all; you’re mine. I’ll always take the very best care of you. You can count on that… For now, however… For now I’m going to render you unable to count even to five.”

As much as you could, given your restricted position, you leaned over to watch him guide his prick to your dripping entrance. A sigh left your lips when he shifted forward and the dark pink tip sipped inside, the familiar stretch making you bite down on your lower lip. In a fluid motion, he thrust himself all the way inside, forcing another soft groan from your mouth. It was scary how addictive this feeling was, the feeling of complete fullness, of your bodies being this absolutely connected. You could feel the beat of his heart through his shaft within you, frantic like yours was. “Hmm…” Aesop sighed, his eyebrows rising in the pleasure of being completely enfolded within your plush heat, his voice soft.

He stayed where he was for several moments, just enjoying the sensation and letting you adjust a little.

Effortlessly, he then lifted your lower body off the bed and placed his legs below your hips and bottom, making you sort of awkwardly sit in his lap while your upper body remained pretty much hanging by the hands secured to the bedposts. You were entirely in his control, unable to move at all. Not that you minded.

His forehead made contact with your collarbone, and his arms curled around the small of your back, and he shallowly pumped his hips a few times, making the two of you produce soft sounds of pleasure. The rhythm he set was slow at first, the teacher’s mouth again closing around one of your nipples, your breast muffling his soft little grunts as he sheathed his cock within your core repeatedly.

“Have I told you your breasts are the eighth world wonder, my sweetest?” he purred with a smile when he released the pebbled teat, once more red and sensitive from him rolling it between his teeth on the very verge of pleasure and pain. And while you were in the middle of another pleased sigh, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

“Oh, Ace…,” you murmured, “I never knew how difficult it would be… Not b-being able to hold you…” Your eyes were partially closed as you enjoyed the sensations of him languidly fucking your tight little quim while worshipping your body.

The professor smiled softly: “Would you like me to untie you?” You thought about it for a while, but ultimately decided to remain bound - after all, it was not every day you indulged in this kind of play, it’d be a shame to end it prematurely.

“Mhm… no. No, it’s alright. I can tie you to the bed n-next time…” you whispered, moving your own hips as well as you could given the position, both of you searching for that one magical angle that made you cry out for him. “Now, that, ah…” Aesop groaned upon another thrust, “that’s an idea. Keen to leave me a moaning, trembling mess, are you?” Your eyes fluttered and your lips spread into a smile. “Y-you know how beautiful you are in that state?” you whispered, the image appearing in your mind’s eye.

Aesop, completely dishevelled, blushing, sweating, whining in the pleasure you were bringing him. All the while being entirely at your mercy.

“Likewise, (F/N),” he growled slowly before suddenly snapping his hips roughly against your own, making you choke out a gasp, “which is why I intend to get you into that state right now .”

And then his pace quickened rapidly, and he finally found that spot that rendered you positively speechless. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips enough to leave small bruises there, and he began to ram into you in earnest. And, just like he promised, you were indeed soon reduced into a state of overwhelming pleasure, but this time you let it claim you fully and entirely, your hips quickly unable to keep up with his, and you could do little more than just lie/hang there and take it.

The room was filled with the beautifully vulgar sounds of your bodies uniting, again and again, the noises of gratifications that poured from your open mouths, and the banging of the headboard against the wall behind it following Aesop's wild movements. You whined and writhed, your nails digging into your palms when they would normally be making small crescent moon shaped cuts in the skin of the teacher’s muscled back.

He leaned over suddenly, one of his hands curling around the headboard close to your right hand, while the other moved south. His thumb found your lovebud, and he began rolling it roughly in rhythm with his powerful thrusts.

The added sensation to the little pink pearl was like a summoning call to your previously snuffed out climax, and it began to return tenfold, your walls fluttering around the large cock, your entire form beginning to tremble under the delicious assault on your senses. Aesop’s other hand found your own where it was suspended at the bedpost.

“A-Aesop…” you barely managed to wine out, your grasp on the English language lessening rapidly. “I’m g-going to…” your head was thrown back, your eyes were rolling into the back of your head on their own accord, and you needed more.

“I-I’m… I’m close too,” he groaned and increased his pace even more, forcing more filthy noises pour out of your mouth at the dizzying feeling. And as you found yourself dancing upon that edge, your toes curling in on themselves, and the coil in your stomach tightening, Aesop suddenly pulled his hand away from where you were so intimately joined in order to wrap it around your throat.

He wasn’t squeezing you very hard at all, just sort of pushing, lessening your oxygen supply. You trusted him, though, you trusted him to never hurt you, and right now he was making you feel so, so bloody good.

The shortness of breath somehow made the chaotic flurry of sensations even stronger, and you gave a half-choked hoarse cry when you felt that knot inside finally explode into blinding white pleasure, one that made all of your muscles spasm. You felt that intoxicating feeling of soaring hot pleasure roll over you like a tidal wave. You let it consume you.

Your following sound turned into something of a sob, because of the sheer intensity. When you somehow managed to open your eyes, all you saw was Aesop, his face directly above yours, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes screwed shut. His mouth was opened, and a string of grunts was leaving it as he too found himself on the very verge.

With a muttered curse that had his voice rising half an octave, his eyes snapped open, and he looked directly at you. His gaze was both frightening and beautiful, he looked wild, like a primal being. He intended to take, and he was clearly past the point of all reason, chasing his pleasure within your contracting depths.

In a quick move, he pulled out, and used the hand he was gripping your neck with to roughly tug at his cock one, two, three times. A guttural growl that reminded you of a predatory animal reverberated through the room, and a hot rope of pearly white come spread over your stomach, followed by another one upon your ribs, reaching your breast even. He then proceeded to roughly thrust himself back into your quim, forcing a desperate whine from your mouth, and you felt more of his hot seed filling you in short bursts, igniting you from within.

Aesop’s forehead landed on your own, hot puffs of his breath landing on your damp lips, the hand that was holding your own tangling into your hair as he still pumped his hips slowly to ride out his orgasm.

You were perfectly marked by him, inside and out, claimed as his own again.

His strength gave a minute later, and he collapsed on top of you heavily, his breathing ragged and his heartbeat frantic.You gratefully accepted the weight and warmth of his body. Waves of gratification still rocked through you, and a sweet afterglow was settling in.

You turned your head to the left, where Aesop’s face was still buried in the crook of your neck, and pressed several soft kisses against his bearded jaw, nuzzling against his scarred cheek with your nose. One of his hands was still stroking through your hair, damp with perspiration, while the other curled around your back, holding you close.

As you cooled down from your shared ecstasy, your lover finally lifted his head, but only to connect your lips in a satisfied, lazy kiss, the previous lust-crazed passion replaced by sweet tenderness. After several minutes of gentle kisses and soft words, he looked into your eyes.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? I haven't hurt you, or squeezed you too hard?” the professor asked, his voice low with residue pleasure and slight fatigue. The hand in your hair went to gently stroke at your neck instead, checking for any damage he might’ve caused. You couldn’t do much else than beam back at him: “I’m alright, Aesop… Although I can’t really feel my hands.” Your smile got a little sheepish as you nodded in the direction of your hands, still tied to the bedposts by your and his neckties.

“Ah,” Aesop hummed, “of course, dear, let me just-” and then, following a wave of his hand, the ties began unknotting themselves before simply sliding off your arms. You felt pins and needles in the limbs as you finally lowered them to rest on Aesop’s strong back, but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, just happy to be finally able to hold him.

You stayed like this for a few more minutes, just enjoying the intimate closeness, before Aesop finally moved to sit up on his heels again, his now soft member leaving your depths. Your lover murmured something under his breath as he looked down on your body and then on his own. And then he smiled: “I made a bit of a mess - I’m sorry dear.”

His voice betrayed him though, he sounded everything but apologetic.

He was looking at you with a mix of smugness, possessiveness, a hint of renewed desire, and overwhelming love, as he observed the product of his pleasure clinging to both of your stomachs and dripping out of your core. You were blushing heavily, but didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. With a simple wave of his hand, the jug that stood upon the dresser poured water into the washbasin. Another wave, and it floated towards the bedside table, along with one of the soft looking cloths.

Aesop’s elegant fingers curled around the textile, and brought it into the water. After squeezing out the excess liquid, he set to clean you. You were happy to find the water nicely warm, perfect for your tired, slightly sore body. Aesop very slowly and very carefully washed your torso, making sure to be extra gentle around the more sensitive areas like your tender nipples. He rinsed the cloth and continued lower.

Many times, a quick Scourgify was enough to get both of you by, but it seemed Aesop was currently intent on prolonging the intimate atmosphere that settled between you, taking the sweet time to clean you up himself.

Only after he was done with you did he finally use the washcloth on his own body, scrubbing the drying seed from the hair on his stomach and giving himself a quick wipedown. Once he was finally all done, he carelessly tossed the fabric into the basin and curled up next to you on the bed. He helped turn you on your side to face him, and pulled one of your legs over his hip.

Soon thereafter, a very soft duvet slid upwards to cover your bodies and wrap them in its warmth. Your older lover then gently brought your wrists to his face and frowned momentarily: “If time comes when the two of us want to repeat this experience, I’ll get you some softer and finer restraints.” Your wrists were red where they were tied. “And I’ll get you some ointment for your wrists.”

You smiled at the professor. He was always so concerned for you, always making sure you were alright, even after he made you see stars and experience pleasures you wouldn’t have thought possible.

“You do take such good care of me, Ace,” you repeated, drunk on your current state of comfort as well as the love you held for the incredible man who held you in his arms, blinking slowly, “but I think I quite want to keep my wrists as they are… As a… little reminder…”

A new wave of possessiveness flashed in his eyes for a second - you knew he adored seeing you embrace the marks he left on your body. You, after all, also loved to see the imprints of your fingernails clearly visible on the skin of his broad back, or the hint of the love bite you left just below his collar. It was clear the two of you had some sort of thing for marking the other as your own, as well as being marked.

Your eyes closed on their own accord when his large, warm palms enveloped your face in their hold, and he sought your lips in a slow kiss. He helped you mould around his body in a way that was comfortable for both of you.

“How long do you reckon we can stay here?” you asked softly, the fatigue that followed your most pleasurable love-making turning into outright sleepiness as you snuggled under the duvet. Your hands lazily stroked each other's bodies, your hair spread around your heads on the shared pillow. The moonlight from the artificial window got dimmer, and the flickering candles became the main light of the room, further deepening the intimate atmosphere.

Aesop hummed quietly: “I’m not expected anywhere. And I rather think your roommates no longer question your absence at night - after all, we planned to be together tonight anyway.” You huddled further into his warmth: “Good. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be able to walk back to your chambers right now anyway.”

Your responses prompted a small chuckle out of the potions master: “I would’ve gladly carried you all the way back into my chambers, though I suspect the portraits and the ghosts would surely give us some curious looks.” You chuckled as well.

“It’s nearly surreal that in less than three weeks, there will be no more sneaking about… well, as successful as we were actually sneaking about anyway…” you continued, “if I finish my practical exams, that is.” The teacher only smiled at you, squeezing your waist: “You’ll be incredible. I know you will. And, I mean,” he pulled back to look at you, a grin on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes, “we can sneak about recreationally, if you so wish. However, I for one am quite looking forward to not having to do that, and instead be able to court you openly. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Another blush entered your face upon his sweet words: “Always, Aesop…”

“Still,” he spoke again after a while, “shame you’re such a responsible adult, going nearly straight to work following graduation - I would’ve hoped to have you all to myself for the summer. Though I of course realise you, uh, didn’t know whether there was even a possibility of a shared summer when you applied for and accepted the job. Still, if Miss Peck would be able to relieve you for, let’s say, a week… Well, we could go somewhere if you’d like. Devon, for example, is quite lovely this time of year.”

As he spoke, the older man was fidgeting with your fingers, a hopeful undertone to his voice. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at him: “I think Ellie can miss me for one week, as long as I owl her about the matter in a timely manner… What can you tell me about Devon?”

Aesop’s grin could light up the entire Great Hall, and it certainly made a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter around your stomach, as he turned to lean over you a bit: “Oh, let me tell you…”

Hello, and thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this dirty little story. As always, you can also check this story as well as all of my other stories over at AO3. I adore feedback! ❤

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #reader insert #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp lemon #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #pwp

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icequeenbae · 2 months

Text

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.4 (fin) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), some altercations, a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 3.7k (pt.4)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: Yesss, the time has come for the final part of the series to drop~ This is more on the fluffy side tbh, but I hope you find it to be a pleasant ending to this mini-series. As usual, please don't be shy to leave feedback in any way you prefer, I track all of your replies/ reblogs/ asks ❤️ And thank you for giving so much love to my stories, I do appreciate that a lot!!

Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @lavnderluv @cupreoussyzygy @byunbaek-hyun-04 @blue-rainydays

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier!!’

Yuki was over for girl’s night, and this time, she wasn’t the only one gushing about her prosperous sex life.

‘I was waiting for test results.’

‘Huh? Test results?’

You realized that you’d just spilled all the beans you didn’t intend to spill.

‘Uh- we didn’t exactly- you know?’

‘What?’ She asked suspiciously, probably not even imagining that you could get so careless.

‘Well…’ You swirled your hand around abstractly.

‘I don’t know what that means- Wait. No, you didn’t!?’ Judging by her lit-up eyes, she guessed right. ‘You little hoe!!’

‘Look who’s talking.’

‘Yes, I’m talking. And I want to know everything. Starting with the result of that test, actually. You stupid hoe.’

Sighing, you rolled your eyes.

‘It’s negative. Thankfully… But it was really stupid of me, I know.’

‘Well, did he at least pull out on time? It’s not a safe option, but the timing is somewhat important…’

‘He did. Although he said, he’s never had sex without condoms.’

‘Damn. I should change what I said to ‘you lucky hoe’! I hope you took that test properly.’

You nodded. That was the first time you had to march into a pharmacy to get pregnancy tests. And you had no clue about how to choose out of the dozens of available options. The only reason you were able to ask for help was that you wore a mask – to save you some face, literally.

But that landed you with a few options and some instructions to follow. You had also gotten your period after your two-day sexcapade with Baekhyun, so you were pretty sure you were lucky this time. But you were still concerned with the long-term options. Something you’d left for the future discussion with your physician.

There were other things on your mind right now.

‘Actually, there’s something else that’s been bothering me.’ You mentioned reluctantly. ‘We haven’t… made it official. I mean- he hasn’t asked me yet. Is that… indicative of anything?’

The thought was bugging you daily.

The words ‘Would you be my girlfriend?’ or anything of the sort, had never left your neighbor’s mouth. And you were the one who shamelessly got drunk, ended up in his bed, made him sleep in it with you, and then… Weren’t you so very eager to jump into having sex with him?

Not to mention that you’d stayed at his place for two whole days, Sunday being filled by more domestic delights, and… Even more sex. It seemed like Baekhyun was focused on you and completely insatiable. You couldn’t remember doing it more than once or twice a day, so you were stunned as you realized you had gone four times. His stamina was surprisingly remarkable.

It was a relief that you had to eventually leave his apartment, for you had to work on Monday. As you ran a bath at your place, you realized how sore and exhausted you were. The fact that just a couple days prior, you got shitfaced was probably a contributing factor, but also, the amount of physical activity was very unusual for your body. Though this was a great type of exhaustion, and you had the deepest sleep that night.

But now, almost two weeks later, you were pretty anxious about how your relationship was progressing. Relaying all of the basics to your friend and asking for her opinion was supposed to make you feel better; however, she shared your concerns.

‘This is weird. So, he had time to sex you up multiple times but not ask you a simple question?’ She frowned. ‘You know how it is here, Y/N… You’re not official until you say the words.’

You knew. And that wasn’t even the only cause for your uncertainty.

‘It’s not only that, but… We haven’t really hung out since.’ You mumbled, expecting a big reaction from your friend.

‘What?! Is the bastard ghosting you??’ She rose from her seat, looking ready to burst into his apartment and give him a piece of her mind.

‘No, he um- he had to go to some distant town for a work assignment. He told me that there might not be any internet connection since they would be on some military base or something like that. He said it would last a bit over a week, and then he’ll visit his family for a few days and get in touch with me from there.’

‘So, has he?’

‘So far… No.’ You admitted.

Yuki huffed, her eyebrows knitting together angrily.

‘Yah. That seems fishy as hell. Why wouldn’t he at least send you a text? Who disappears after having someone over for the entire weekend of fucking??’

‘We weren’t doing it the entire weekend…’ You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

‘Come on! He didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend, disappeared on a ‘mission’ that sounds unrealistic, and hasn’t gotten back to you for almost two weeks? Wow, was I wrong about him.’

You scratched your temple, exhaling hopelessly. She just voiced everything that you thought to yourself. You kept giving him the benefit of the doubt in your head, but she was right. It was too odd for someone to vanish into thin air like this right after what had happened between the two of you. This was the hard truth, and it hit your softest, most vulnerable spot. Your heart.

‘I guess so,’ you muttered, voice a bit scratchy with the inevitable tears you held back. ‘What do I even do now, Yu? I like him a lot, which is precisely why I didn’t want to start anything…’

‘First of all, stop crying. If he decided to do this on purpose, he is a dickhead. And doesn’t even deserve to call you his girlfriend.’

She reached out her hands to wipe the stray tears off your cheeks.

‘Second… You need to grow some balls, Y/N. Don’t let people take you for granted or make you feel less than you are!’ She said in a serious tone. ‘I’ve told you this before: you shouldn’t retreat to your shell when someone attacks. You’re strong, beautiful, and an amazing person, capable of giving them hell if you need to!’

Snorting at Yuki’s passionate speech straight out of some girl power drama, you shook your head.

‘Yes, you are! Stop feeling sorry. If someone hurts you – don’t let them. I don’t mean Baekhyun exclusively. You know you’ve been in various situations lately where defending yourself was vital. Stop being a good, cautious girl who gets into her own head before saying anything. Act the way you want, and if someone is offended – it’s their problem. I’ve seen you speak your mind before, and it was damn powerful. That’s why it’s time that you do it for you.’

It wasn’t hard to guess what she was referring to. You’d been keen on staying collected on the outside and hid your emotions fairly well. You’d never let your struggles show, even when you were going through a difficult time at your previous job. You preferred crying in the restroom during lunch break to letting anyone know. You didn’t want to deal with that. Sad or angry, you processed every thought before opening your mouth and saying something, just because you knew how hot-tempered you could become if you didn’t keep your tongue in check.

However, you did let it slip sometimes, mostly when someone hurt the people you love, as opposed to you. A couple years ago, you had to pick Yuki up from a random party she was stuck at, and there was a guy who made unwanted moves on her. As you arrived at the scene, you had to search the entire house for her until you walked into the kitchen, where the bloke was trying to kiss her while she was shoving him away. You vaguely recalled what you did… grabbing his shoulder to turn him around, kneeing him in the balls without hesitation. Yuki later shared that she sobered up as she heard you swearing excessively at him. You told him everything on your mind, and he was scared to talk back. Apparently, you looked like a force of nature back then.

And although this wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, it was mostly reserved for someone else. But now that you were contemplating your life… You found that you might’ve been missing the point all along.

‘Actually… You have a point, Yu.’

Your best friend blinked, surprised by your response. She’d been trying to get through to you many times before, and now you finally listened?

‘Why should I always be the one to swallow my pride or feel uncomfortable? I’ve always been a good girl, and where did it get me?’ You wiped your face dry. ‘I’m not gonna do a one-eighty and become a crazy bitch now, but it’s time to let go. I won’t try to reach him or wait for him at the door. If he was one of the bastards who thought I was too boring to have a relationship with, well… Fuck him then. I’m done with feeling bad about myself.’

‘Yay! That’s what I’m saying. You go, girl!’

‘I’m sure I’ll get over him in no time. Yes, we’re neighbors; it’s gonna be awkward. But why should I be the one worried about it? I’ll be sure to let him know I don’t give a shit about him and his stunts if I ever see him again.’

‘That’s the spirit, Y/N-ah! Gosh, this calls for a celebration. Where’s the champagne I brought last time?’

‘I hoped you’d ask. In the fridge.’ You chuckled.

‘Coming right up,’ she winked, already headed to the cupboard to get the glasses.

***

Friday rolled in, having you overcome the struggles of getting work done while having your head elsewhere. Your office hours were so long and miserable that you were dead set on doing your house chores and then going straight to bed tonight. Just to sleep in tomorrow, wake up completely free for the day, and order from your favorite restaurant and chill. If anyone deserved a feast, it was definitely you! Rewarding yourself for getting through the week and spending five minutes not thinking about your personal life was a great achievement in your book. Maybe not great, but a triumph.

Walking up to the entrance, you saw a tall figure there.

It didn’t seem familiar until you were a ten-second walk away. Then you realized – it was that woman. That one who broke into Baekhyun’s apartment while you were there. And the one who called him up about having dinner together at his place.

Your first instinct was to turn around and sneak through another entry point. You hated confrontation, especially in case you didn’t initiate it. At this time, all you wanted was a quiet evening, and it was about to be ruined.

Your pride, however, didn’t allow you to back down. Suddenly, your conversation with Yuki replayed in your mind. She was right; you shouldn’t let anyone treat you that way or make you feel any less. And if you had to withstand a pointless attack, you could simply fire back. With that in mind, you reached the gate.

‘You!’ The voice made you sigh and brace yourself before turning around. ‘It is you! I’ve seen you before.’

‘Congrats,’ you shrugged, ready to walk away.

She grabbed your forearm.

‘Are you going to Baekhyun again?’

‘I find it unlikely that my destination is any of your business. Let go of me.’

She gritted her teeth, squeezing your arm painfully.

‘Listen, whore. I’ve been working on him for months, and as soon as I’ve made progress, you swing by and think you’re-’

‘No, you listen, bitch.’ You ripped out of her grasp, completely fed up with this. ‘I don’t care if you think you’re entitled to have him. But let me tell you this. I live on the thirteenth floor, so if I see you there again, I’m calling the police. Stop creeping around my house and get a life.’

‘You-’

‘Is everything alright?’ You turned to the security, who most likely caught your exchange in front of the gates on CC TV and decided to come check it out.

‘Yes,’ you nodded, pressing your code in and pushing through the entrance. ‘This person is blacklisted on our building, check under Byun Baekhyun. And please make sure she doesn’t sneak in and cause more trouble.’

‘Of course.’ The guard made sure the door was appropriately locked after you.

The woman, whose name you still didn’t know, shouted profanities at your back as you walked away.

You hated confrontation, but this felt good.

Later this evening, you gladly told your best friend about it.

‘Damn, you should’ve called me as soon as you got home! This is so cool,’ she yelled as you relayed the story.

‘I wanted to clean up first. You know we talk for hours… I'm glad I did; I’m sure I’d have zero energy if I had to do it now. I’m already in bed and so sleepy.’

As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud yawn.

‘How graceful. I am in bed too, but I wish I could see her face when you… Is there a way to get my hands on the security footage?? I’d flirt with your guards just to have a chance to see that!’

You heard someone grumble in the background.

‘I’m sure you’d love to see that footage just as much as me, Seokie,’ she teased.

‘Ew, don’t tell me you’re in bed with Hoseok right now!’

‘What if I am? Jealous?’ She asked, and you rolled your eyes.

‘Sure. I hate you lovebirds.’

‘He’s been eavesdropping on your story about that bitch you put in her place, and he looks impressed.’

‘You go, Y/N-ah!’ You heard Hoseok shout.

‘Thanks,’ you giggled, feeling at ease. ‘That’s at least one source of frustration off my shoulders.’

‘Aw, you’re still upset about that bastard going MIA on you?’

‘I’m trying not to think about it. But… Baekhyun’s either been offline everywhere or has blocked me. I just keep thinking… If it’s the former, what if something happened?’’

‘Oh ,Y/N. I hate that you’re this kind. Next time you see him, tell him off just like his stalker.’

‘I guess,’ you agreed weakly. ‘Anyways, tomorrow is a new day, and I have great plans, so I need to sleep now.’

‘By great plans you mean ordering food and wearing pajamas all day?’

‘You know me so well! Don’t bother coming over, I’m not gonna share. It’s a me-day.’

‘Ugh, what a hoe.’

‘I’m hanging up.’

You put your phone away, giggling at her goodbye growl. She always knew when to tease you to make you relax, and it was one of the reasons you considered her a great friend.

She was always there to back you up and listen to your whining, if needed. At least when you went back to being alone again, you weren’t completely alone.

***

You danced eagerly to the door, ready to pick up your order. It was afternoon, and you were hungrier than a wolf. The delivery guy had just sent you a picture of your package, so you were to simply get it at your doorstep. Which was how you preferred it – living alone as a woman could be slightly creepy, so all contacts with strangers were to be avoided. Your apartment building had great security, but… better safe than sorry.

Thinking all that, you opened the door without checking if the coast was clear. Since you were already crouched to get the package off the floor, you instantly saw a pair of legs in front of you. Male legs. Someone was standing right outside of your door.

You quickly glanced up, meeting the chocolate eyes.

And then grabbed the doorknob, trying to shut the door. But a swift foot in the doorway prevented you from doing so.

‘Whoa, wait a second, Y/N-ah!’

You still wouldn’t budge, so Baekhyun continued.

‘I know what it must’ve looked like, but let me explain. Please, Y/N. I know I fucked up.’

He tried stealing a glance at your face through the crack on the door, but you turned away.

‘Why should I listen to a single word you say?’

‘Don’t you want to know what really happened?’

Trying to make up your mind, you looked down at the package in your other hand.

‘I’ll need five minutes tops to set the table.’ You announced, letting go of the doorknob and allowing him to follow you inside. ‘Be done till then, I don’t wanna spoil my healthy appetite.’

You said that while walking towards the kitchen to get your food out. Baekhyun put something suspicious on the floor and stepped into the kitchen silently.

Expecting him to start the explanation, you huffed.

‘Your time is going to be up before you know it!’

‘I’m sorry.’ He said, voice heavy with guilt. ‘I’m sorry if I made you upset. I know we agreed that I’d stay in touch, and I didn’t. But I promise you I didn’t disappear on purpose.’

You began taking out containers of food from your delivery.

‘My phone was handed in the entire assignment because that base wouldn’t allow any devices inside but our pre-approved laptops. I was planning to text you as soon as I arrived at my family home because when I received my phone back it was dead.’

Listening to him talk, you avoided looking his way. You wanted to process his words without any additional… distractions. It was time to be rational; meeting his warm, guilty gaze again would cost you half of your battle spirit.

‘I left it to charge as soon as I got home, but…’

He made a big, almost theatrical pause.

‘But?’ You nudged, wishing to know the truth.

‘I don’t know how to say this… Uh- Siwoo wanted to take a picture of something outside just to be playful and accidentally dropped it out the window.’

It was your turn to pause. Was he kidding you with that story?? You couldn’t believe he was trying to blame all of this on a child.

Your thoughts must’ve displayed clearly on your face, so he fished his phone out of his back pocket.

It was brand new. It was evident that the model was upgraded, and the color was different, too.

‘I restored the photos from the cloud, I can show you the picture he too—’

The shiny new device was proof enough for you, and you weren’t willing to have him provide you with further evidence of his innocence. Nevertheless, you wanted to make sure he was genuine in his apology.

‘Why couldn’t you at least call our building and ask them to give me a message?’

He stood there, stupefied, for what seemed like an eternity before his expression turned into a sheepish grin.

‘I could’ve… done that?’ He mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Clearly, the thought had never crossed his mind.

You rolled your eyes and turned to the kitchen counter. The table was set, and you only needed to get the plates. The prettier ones were reserved for the rare occasions when you had guests, so you had to reach for them.

‘Y/N…’ Baekhyun whined, sounding uncharacteristically childish in his desperation. ‘I also brought you an ‘I’m sorry’ present…’

Hearing this made you snap.

‘Why would you do that? It’s not like we’re dating!’

He was taken aback by your words.

‘What do you mean we’re not?’ He asked, completely bewildered. ‘Are you seeing someone else?’

‘No, but-’ It was your turn to mumble. ‘You never asked me…’

Baekhyun looked at you as if you were crazy. Then, his frown transformed into something else.

‘Oh god, Y/N…’ He sighed, leaning on the counter behind you with one hand. ‘I thought it was obvious. I was serious about you from the very beginning, but if you want me to say it, I will say it.’

You waited for him to finish.

‘Please be informed that I’ve considered you my girlfriend this entire time. And I know I fucked up, so… are you gonna break up with me?’

‘I’m debating it,’ you responded gruffly.

‘Y/N-ah,’ He pressed, still hovering over you while his arm inched closer and closer to your frame. ‘I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you.’

Taking in his hopeful eyes, you pointed to the kitchen cabinet.

‘I need plates.’

Following the direction of your index finger, Baekhyun looked up. He reached over you, almost hugging you with one arm, and gave you what you wanted.

‘Thank you.’

He perked up, a question in his eyes. ‘What now?’

Although you were still grumpy, your heart was beginning to warm up to him. So easily.

‘Go sit at the table. I’m hungry.’

Baekhyun’s chocolate orbs instantly lit up.

‘Does it mean you forgive me?’

The hopefulness of his tone made your façade crack.

‘You’ve mentioned a goodie bag?’ You squinted at the huge paper bag he left at the door, just to avoid crumbling right in front of him.

Baekhyun smiled cheekily.

‘It’s all yours. Babe.’

You ignored the term of endearment, turning your back on him to hide your warming cheeks.

‘Get yourself another set of chopst—’

Your boyfriend gave you an abrupt back hug.

‘B-Baekhyun?’

‘I really missed you, Y/N-ie.’ He whispered in your ear, nearly busting your eardrum with a kiss. ‘Also, my entire family wants to meet you…’

‘What?? Already?’

‘Mhm. And here you were, thinking we weren’t even dating,’ he snickered. ‘Once I got you, I’m not letting you go.’

‘You are,’ you huffed. ‘Otherwise, you’re standing between me and food. And I got an appetite, you know?’

‘I know.’ His smile tickled your neck pleasantly. ‘It’s one of the many things I love about you.’

It was impossible to turn into mush faster than you did.

Masterlist

A/N: Okaaaay, we're done with another mini-series!!! Congrats to you and I haha Thank you for following this story till the end <3 And a huge thank you to all of my lovely readers that left their comments to each installment of the series! Ily 💕

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pascallatte · 1 year

Text

Little Duck

Pairing/s:Pedro Pascal x actress!reader, Sarah Paulson x platonic!reader

Summary: The pair, Sarah Paulson and Pedro Pascal were asked about their close relationship with the rising star Y/N L/N

Date: October 2012

Warnings: y/n isn't here but is mentioned (not a warning but it needed to be stated), other than that no warnings.

A/n: hi this is the first point for this series, they are still friends here completely platonic, just had to build up the series before you know. Also, feel free to ask questions about the series and hopefully, you guys like this.

“ Hello everyone, we are here at the special red carpet event where dozens of artists from all over the country are coming together to enjoy such a great cause,” the female interviewer greeted the audience.

“ And it is with great honour, that I present to you our first pair on the red carpet, the one and only Sarah Paulson and Pedro Pascal.”

The camera zooms in on the pair before it follows them to the area where they were about to be interviewed.

Smiling to the camera the pair positioned themselves on the right of the interviewer and shook her hand.

“ Thank you both for talking with us, a while ago I said I’m gonna go and talk with the first pair that walks down that carpet before escaping and chugging down whatever’s in the drinks section,” The interviewer said that resulting in small laughs from the pair.

“ So uhm, what does it feel like to be the first ones to walk on this very special event tonight?” She then proceeded to ask them as the pair looked at each other.

“It’s pretty cool yeah like it’s an honour for us to start off this event as it has been highly anticipated in the past year,” Sarah softly said as she nudges Pedro to speak.

“Yeah it just makes us feel better than everybody else,” he casually states as the interviewer bursts out laughing.

“ Why did you both sign up for this, was it the attraction of last year’s special event or did you just get invited?” She asks

“For me, it was a little bit of both, but I mean-actually I wasn’t even supposed to be here Y/N was, but she got sick last minute so she called me and asked me to take her place,” Sarah nods towards the camera as she explained their situation.

“ Oh! That’s unfortunate,” the interviewer said as Pedro perked up and nodded.

“Yes, really unfortunate but we were kind of expecting that she would get sick after all those activities she’s done the past week, so she hasn’t really got time to rest.” Pedro then told the interviewer who looked like she was about to ask the reason for her sickness.

“And while we are on the topic of the Y/N L/N, I’m gonna take the chance to ask you what is your guys’ relationship with her, since you've been seen with her throughout the year, like when did it start? What made you guys add her to your little friend group?” She prodded as she looked at the pair.

The two burst out laughing as the past events filled their mind.

“ Yes, uhm we- rather I kind of adopted y/n back when we got cast together in the movie “Martha Marcy May Marlene", and at some point, we began to grow close and our bond really shook both our worlds.” Sarah shared their history with a large smile before pointing to Pedro who was standing there with a smile of his own.

“But this guy, only met her last January at my new year’s eve party but was seen with her too many times than I have been seen with her since last year,” she stated as a matter of fact as Pedro giggled at the memory.

Shocked the interviewer looked back and forth before composing themselves.

“Are you serious Pedro? I cannot believe that what you’re telling me is true. So, you just met y/n a few months back yet you two looked as if you’ve known each other for years. What can you tell me about this? Any story you can tell us?” The interviewer directed to Pedro who was seen shrugging with a fond look on his face.

“ Yes, uhm I- I mean y/n isn’t a hard person to know 'cause she’s like an open book and a very conversational person so you know as soon as we were introduced we just clicked and that lead to whatever you guys are seeing floating around now.”

“ Yeah, they clicked so much that they even hang out without me. IMAGINE THAT I, who introduced them to each other, was being left out. I sense a betrayal going on.” Sarah teased Pedro who started laughing as he rested his hands on her shoulders before kneeling down and begging for her forgiveness.

The interviewer laughed with them before asking a couple more questions about their future and current projects.

“So that is all for tonight, once again thank you Sarah and Pedro for your time and we’re hoping to see you guys soon and hopefully with y/n.” The interviewer closed up the interview.

“Ah yes thank you too, and we agree on the part that y/n needs to be here on our next red carpet.” Sarah pointed to the camera.

“ So little duck eat up and drink up, you are missing on a lot of fun, get well soon!!” Pedro screamed to the mic as the video slowly faded to black.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x platonic!reader

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quietblueriver · 5 months

Note

not sure if you're still taking one word prompts... but if you are, then how about "warmth" or "pale" for Imodna?

(P.S. I love your writing style!)

Thank you so, so much!!! And thank you for the prompt. Here’s a short thing for “pale.” 💜 Heads up for some angst.

As always, she hears Laudna before she sees her, her thoughts providing a harmony to the song she’s humming happily in the kitchen.

Where’s the sugar? Should set the table. I wonder if Imogen was able to find blueberries…

“I’m home!” She sits her haul from the market on the little wooden bench by the door and bends to unlace her boots. “And I brought blueberries!”

It’s been years at this point, but the delight in Laudna’s thoughts when she hears Imogen come home never fails to make her stomach drop pleasantly with love and, even now, a little bit of disbelief.

Oh, excellent. I’ve missed her. I’ve missed you.

“Welcome home, darling.” A long black and maroon skirt sweeps into her vision as she looks up from her boots, and she follows it up and up, over a flowing black top with sheer sleeves and a green striped dish towel that has been flung a little haphazardly over a delicate shoulder until she reaches her favorite perfectly crooked smile and wide black eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

She’s still got one boot on but she can’t wait, so she stands up and leans into a kiss that Laudna receives with a happy sigh. She’s a little off-balance, and it’s the wobble that breaks their kiss, Laudna laughing at her fondly as she helps her keep herself upright.

“Steady, love.” Imogen kisses her again, because she can’t help it, and Laudna pulls back with a teasing tsk. “Finish with your boots and I’ll have a treat waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Laudna swats at her with the towel, too far away to actually catch her, and walks toward the doorway to their little kitchen, Imogen staring after her until she catches herself and sits down again, tugging impatiently at her laces until she’s free.

She hangs her cloak on the rack, the pegs of which are various intricately carved birds in flight. Imogen’s partial to the hawk, Laudna to the raven. It’s a C-POP Industries original that Chetney swore was too imperfect for the market but that Imogen was almost entirely sure was just a gift for Laudna, as it appeared on their doorstep less than a day after she’d exclaimed over it in his store.

She picks up the bag of groceries and makes her way to the kitchen, dropping them on the table before coming to stand behind Laudna at the stove, where she’s laid out a rack of cookies to cool. Wrapping her arms around Laudna and relaxing into the cool press of her body, she says, “Those look good.” She catches chocolate and something else, cinnamon maybe. “Smell good, too.”

Laudna’s hands come to rest on hers and she leans back, Imogen supporting her weight easily. “Mmm. A bit pale, I’m afraid. Should’ve left them a few minutes more but I burned them last time, you remember, and I didn’t want to do that again.”

Imogen blinks. Does she remember? Of course. Of course she does. “I remember them bein’ delicious,” she says. “Think I ate half a dozen before they were even all cool. I’m sure these’ll be just as good.”

“Mmm.” You don’t have the most…discerning palate, dear.

The thought comes with an affectionate squeeze to her forearms, and Imogen laughs. “Hey, now. My palate is plenty discernin’.”

The pat to the back of her hand is absolutely patronizing, and Laudna’s tone matches as she says, “Of course it is. I’m sorry.”

Imogen presses up to kiss her cheek and squeezes her hips before stepping back and around to grab at a cookie. It’s still warm, and the chocolate is almost liquid on her tongue, and it’s so good, darlin’. Honestly. She swallows and offers, before taking another bite and another cookie from the tray, “Even better than last time.”

Laudna’s looking at her fondly, and it’s then that Imogen notices something’s not quite right. There’s a flicker in the corner of the kitchen, a shadow over Laudna’s shoulder, and her hackles are raised, the cookie tossed carelessly back onto the tray, as she says, voice low, “Laud, come stand behind me.”

Laudna stays where she is, eyes crinkling at the edges and the corners of her lips tilting downwards, smile still fond but a little bit sad now, too. Imogen’s stomach clenches, and lightning flickers at her fingertips. Shadows begin to bleed from beneath their table, their chairs, the doorway.

“Laudna. C’mon, baby.” Her tone is anxious now, voice unsteady, and she tries to take a step forward but she can’t. She can’t, and suddenly her heart is thundering, her palms sweating where they’re now frozen before her, ready and entirely unable to cast. “Please. Please.”

There’s ichor dripping from her eyes, slow and steady, and her mouth pulls up at one corner as she says, affectionate but resigned, “You know I can’t, darling.”

“No.” The shadows have swallowed the entry to the living room, slither closer and faster. “No.” She’s crying now, can feel the tears making hot trails down her cheeks.

A voice from above, familiar and cold and terrifying. “Is she your favorite?”

“No. Please. Not again. Please. Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Please, just...”

“Close your eyes, Imogen.” Laudna’s voice is gentle, the same one she uses when Imogen wakes from a nightmare—soothing and soft and loving and Imogen doesn’t close her eyes, can’t close her eyes, can only scream as Laudna’s body is lifted into the air by an invisible force, her chest ripped open by a sword she can’t see but doesn’t need to. She hears Laudna’s cry, haunting, and then laughter, Otohan’s laughter, and all she sees is white.

When she wakes, her cheeks are wet, and her chest is heaving, and she’s cold, so cold. She keeps her eyes closed for as long as she can, unwilling to be back in the world where Laudna isn’t, but it can’t last. She turns and blinks into the dark of the room where she’s sleeping, sees Laudna’s profile, Pate tucked carefully into a nest made of Imogen’s bandana near her far shoulder.

Her fingers reach for the place where she knows the sword went through, hover and retreat, fist into the blanket instead.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” There’s no response. Of course there isn’t. There’s no one there to hear her. She doesn’t mean it any less.

“I’ll fix it, Laudna. I promise. I’ll fix it.” She forces herself to close her eyes again, and when she drifts back into fitful sleep, she swears she can still taste the chocolate.

#imodna #southerngothic #imodna fic #cr prompt fic

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lysenfeu · 10 months

Text

Pair of Aces - Chapter 6. Day Six

Pair of Aces

Chapter 6. Day Six

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Things get messy with the Butterflies and even messier with our pair back at the motel. Chapter Content: Graphic violence/ Canon-typical violence, Explosions, Blood, Mild gore, Smut (F/M)

A/N: It's finally heeeeere! Sorry this took a trillion years, real life has been a pain and this is a beast of a chapter. Hopefully, the length (and 🔥content🔥) will make up for the delay! All I have to say is that it's the last night in the motel and we all knew where this was headed 👀

(NOTE: The smut-specific content warnings are after the cut because they kind of include spoilers, please read at your own discretion!)

[Read Previous Chapter]

[Read on AO3]

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*SPOILERS* Kissing, Biting (like, a lot), Nipple play, Fingering (F receiving), Oral (F and M receiving), Hair Pulling, a little Facefucking, PIV, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Creampie, a tiny bit of Cum play *END SPOILERS*

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She groaned as her alarm went off way earlier than she ever would have liked. They needed an early start to put their plan into action but that didn't mean she had to enjoy it. The grumpy wake-up call was followed by a rushed breakfast of fruit and granola bars. They needed to be at the mission site and finish preparing for the Glen Tai delivery before their scheduled drop-off at noon. The pair were finally finishing gearing up just before it was time to head out.

She looked over at the mess spread out on his bed and rolled her eyes. "You don't need four guns, Vig. You only have two hands."

"What if one of the guns gets knocked out of my hands?"

She sighed. "Okay, fine. Three guns, then you have an extra. But that's it!"

"But what if another one gets knocked out of my hands!"

"Then you're bad at your job and shouldn't be in the field." She shot him a pointed look.

"Hm." Vig wrinkled his nose in thought as he packed away the three weapons. "Note to self: don't let the bad guys take more than one gun." He finished fiddling with his gear and met her at the front door.

"Ready for this?"

She grinned at him. "This is what I live for. Let's go."

They climbed in the Sebring and headed over to the unassuming farmhouse, anxious to get the day started.

The plan was simple. First, they needed to get into the tunnels before the delivery was scheduled to arrive. They had scoped out a route the night before while exploring, so that was easy. They'd place the adhesive explosion prototypes Task Force X had included in their gear along key structure points in the tunnels.

When the Butterflies show up, they would blow up the entrance to trap them inside and then mow them down in waves until nothing was left standing. After that, they could collapse the tunnel exit once they were clear and call it a day. Just some high-tech explosions and murder. You know, simple stuff.

Setting up was the easiest part, planting the sticky-backed bombs evenly along the cavern went smoothly. Then they camped out by the car, well hidden behind the foliage, and waited for the delivery truck's arrival.

Shortly after noon, a large white delivery truck pulled up to the edge of the property. Two dozen people climbed out the back, all carrying crates full of glass jars into the house.

They waited for a few moments to ensure they wouldn't be spotted and then quickly followed after them. They knew exactly where the hatch was this time, kicking it open and dropping down to catch the delivery squad off guard.

She could barely take her eyes off him as he immediately opened fire on the group of Butterflies. He was a blur of black and teal as he expertly cleared the room, dropping half the group with ease. The noise was insane, gunfire and screams mixed with smashing glass and broken crates. The remaining people begin screeching and running down the underground maze in an attempt to escape.

That was her cue, she whipped out the prototype trigger and started setting off the bombs furthest back first. Several loud booms sounded one after the other and the tunnels began collapsing, trapping the Butterflies in an increasingly smaller space as Vigilante pushed forward.

She followed along behind him, double-tapping the downed bodies through the skull to ensure they all stayed down. She didn't even have a clear shot ahead as Vig raced after the last few stragglers.

Fucking hell, he's good at this.

He had managed to take down nearly the entire group in less than a half hour. Finally the last of the screeching stopped and he popped back into view. He walked back towards her and headed to the ladder leading back to the farmhouse.

"All clear! Let's blow this fucker up!"

She laughed a little at his obvious excitement, but hell he deserved it after that performance. She turned around and started walking back with him, pulling out the trigger to set off the last two charges. Just as she pressed the 3-second timer, her foot caught on a splintered crate and she tumbled to the floor.

She scrambled to get back up, she needed to get the hell out of range immediately. Suddenly two strong hands were wrapped around her, Vigilante tugged her off the filthy ground and around the corner just before the walls collapsed behind her.

"Holy shit!" She coughed violently as she rolled over and stared up at the roof of the nearly destroyed cavern.

Vigilante was on the ground next to her, covered in dirt. He looked over at her. "You good?"

She carefully inspected herself for any damage, minus some dirt of her own everything seemed fine. "Yeah, still all in one piece." She looked back at him. "Thanks."

He wiped off his visor and wiped the dust off his pants as he stood up. "No problem. I wasn't going to let you get blown up, that would just be stupid."

She scrambled to her feet and surveyed the damage. Everything behind them was blown to rubble, the entire system of tunnels had been reduced to a pile of rocks and dirt, effectively camouflaging all the bodies they'd left behind. She would have been one of them if Vigilante hadn't grabbed her.

"Well, I'm glad you also think me dying is stupid." She shot him a grateful smile and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the exit they'd blocked off for their escape route. "Come on, let's get the fuck out of this mess."

"One second!" He stopped in his tracks and whipped his phone out of his pocket. Turning around, he angled his front-facing camera and snapped a picture throwing a peace sign with the collapsed rubble behind him.

"Peacemaker is gonna love this, what a great day."

She was halfway up the exit ladder with him closely behind, tucking his phone into his utility belt. After they both made it back to the car a safe distance away, she detonated the last explosive and the entrance to the tunnel collapsed in on itself, destroying a significant portion of the house's foundation along with it. She stared for a moment at the destruction, the culmination of the entire week-long mission. They'd done it, had a literal blast and successfully completed their objective. Tomorrow they'd check out of the motel and be back in Evergreen by dinner. A pang hit her stomach at the thought but she wasn't sure why.

Shoving the thoughts aside, she climbed into the passenger seat of the Sebring. Vig had just started driving them back to town when the tinny echoes of Aqua started playing from his pocket.

“Ah shit, can you grab that?”

She reached over and grabbed the cell phone out of his utility belt. Checking the display, she saw that it was Harcourt calling.

The call was quick. After informing Emilia about what they’d found and why they had needed to blow the whole thing up, she promised to file the reports quickly and it was all taken care of.

She hung up the phone and looked over at Vigilante with an unimpressed expression. "So, why the fuck is your ringtone 'Barbie Girl'?"

“Hey! Aqua is the bomb!" He was immediately defensive, under no circumstances would Vigilante tolerate Aqua slander.

"Obviously, I would never insult the legendary Europop group Aqua! I just think Barbie Girl is super overrated." She shrugged dismissively. "Dr.Jones does way more of the heavy lifting on Aquarium and never gets the same respect."

He scoffed in disgust. “Uh, hard no. Barbie Girl is the definitive Aqua single, no contest.”

"Clearly you've been concussed because you're talking absolute fucking nonsense right now." She was not going to back down from this, he was undeniably incorrect. However, the offended noises he emitted in response did not seem to agree with her.

"Look, there's only one way to settle this debate. Pass me the aux cord!" She pulled out her phone and gestured towards him.

Vig coughed awkwardly. “Uh…yeah, so the Vigilantemobile doesn't have one. Cassettes or CDs only."

"Fucking cassettes?" She wrinkled her nose. "Dude, your car sucks."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. But it's mine, you know?" He patted the steering wheel fondly. "Anyways, just pop the glove box."

She grabbed at the latch in front of her and opened the passenger glove box. Stuffed next to some crumpled papers and napkins was a beat-up CD folder. She flipped it open and quickly located the bright blue disc they needed, Aqua's debut album Aquarium. She briefly stared down at the decades-old CD, it truly was a relic of the past, just like the Sebring.

She popped the album into the disc drive and queued up track three before grinning at him.

"Ready to lose?"

"You fucking wish." Vig took his eyes off the road for a second to address her with a deadly serious tone. “You do not get to be Barbie right now, got it?”

“Damn dude, fine. It’s all you.” She threw up her hands in deference and accepted her role as Ken.

Hiya, Barbie. Hi, Ken! You wanna go for a ride? Sure, Ken. Jump in!

She waited patiently as Vig sang out the chorus by himself. She hated to admit it but he really was nailing the song.

I'm a blonde bimbo girl in a fantasy world Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly You're my doll, rock and roll, feel the glamour in pink Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky-panky

She paused for a moment after finishing her two lines of the verse.

Has Aqua always been this horny? Geez.

Vig finally finished singing along with the track and “How do you not love this song?”

“I do! It’s a great track, that was never in question. I just think it’s overrated in comparison. You’ll see.” She skipped forward a track and queued up her song.

“You can do the chorus and the dude parts but that’s it, okay?” She had her own rules for this sing-off too.

He nodded at her. “That’s fair.”

Sometimes the feelin' is right You fall in love for the first time Heartbeat and kisses so sweet Summertime love in the moonlight

It had been ages since she listened to this album but she still knew all the words by heart, Dr.Jones really was the supporting pillar of Aquarium.

Baby, I am missin' you I want you by my side And I hope you'll miss me too Come back and stay I'll think about you every day I really want you too You swept my feet right off the ground You're the love I found

Her cheeks hurt from grinning with enthusiasm as they belted out the duet verse and launched into the chorus together. There was nothing like some impromptu karaoke to cap off a brutal murder spree!

The song faded out just as Vig pulled into the motel parking lot and the pair tumbled into their room, giddy from all the adrenaline and Europop.

She kicked off her boots and unzipped her dirt-covered jacket, tossing them in a pile by the door. She was relieved her outfit underneath was still fairly clean, it had been a very messy day.

"So, are you going to change your ringtone now that we've established the superior song?" She spun around to grin at him, expecting a snappy defence of Barbie Girl but she was startled by just how close he was.

He had finished stripping off his armour and was just in his black shirt and pants standing right behind her. She took a step back to make some room between them but he stepped towards her in return, quickly invading her space. She shuffled backwards and he was almost directly in front of her when she suddenly collided with the back of the couch and nearly toppled over.

"Woah!"

His hands reached out and grabbed onto her shoulders at the same time she instinctively wrapped hers around his waist to steady herself. She was caught off guard by how warm and solid he felt under her hands. She fisted her fingers into the material of his shirt and suddenly felt something …wet?

"Uh, who's blood is this?" She awkwardly let him go and brought her hand up to show him the bright red splotches left on her skin.

"Oh, shit!" He jumped back from her and immediately tugged at his shirt, feeling out the stain she had discovered on his side. He grimaced as he felt the blood-soaked fabric and quickly stripped it off. Her eyes widened at the unexpected sight of a now half-naked Vigilante in front of her, wildly spinning around on the way to the bathroom mirror trying to inspect himself for wounds. He shut the door behind him and she heard water running for a moment.

She was still in a bit of a daze staring at the bathroom door when he came back out a few minutes later.

"False alarm, definitely not my blood but man was there a lot of it. Did I miss any?" He gestured at his still-bare torso and held his arms out, slowly spinning in a circle for her to inspect.

Oh, goddammit.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm as she surveyed his barely dressed body. He was in incredible shape, that's for certain. There were a few droplets of water dripping down his chest, drawing her eye across his pecs and down his abs, before hitting the waistband of his tactical pants. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she was disappointed or not that there wasn't any blood left on him.

Fuck. Okay, that's enough.

She swallowed hard and shook her head, managing to tear her gaze away from him. "You're all good." She was halfway into giving him a thumbs up before she remembered the mess on her hand.

"Gross." She murmured, looking down at the bloodstains.

"Here, let me help." Vigilante quickly grabbed something from the bathroom, walked over and grabbed her wrist. He held her hand up and gently wiped a damp washcloth across her palm, slowly washing away the blood.

She fought down a blush at how close he suddenly was, still shirtless. She could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. She stared down at his hands working to clean her up, slightly dazed at how sweet he was being. Two hours ago, those same hands were responsible for the deaths of over a dozen people and now they were ever so softly holding hers, cleaning off his victim's blood.

He swiped the cloth over her palm one more time and then stepped back a bit. "There we go."

"Thanks."

"No problem! You should probably take your shirt off now."

Her dazed mind raced to process the sudden request. "W-what?"

He frowned in concern. "To make sure there's no blood on you?"

"Oh."

She was still entirely distracted and without thinking, moved her hand to grab the edge of her shirt. She was about to lift it over her head when Vigilante interrupted her, holding out her duffel bag in his hands.

"You should clean up and get changed, the bathroom's all yours!"

"Right, yes. Obviously. That makes sense." She dropped the hem of her top and lost the fight against blushing, turning a lovely shade of tomato red as she grabbed her bag, ran to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Thankfully, there wasn't much blood on her. A few small stains on her top had soaked through to her bra and she quickly stripped it off and ducked into the tub. She was towelling off from her quick shower when she heard a knock on the motel room's front door. She immediately started to panic, no one was supposed to know they were there.

She heard Vigilante's muffled voice and pressed an ear to the door. He was saying something that sounded like 'thank you' to someone and then she heard the door close.

She quickly got dressed in her last pair of clean pyjamas, her usual tank top and shorts combo, and flew out of the bathroom to assess the situation. Vigilante was standing beside the couch, still shirtless but having changed into a pair of sweatpants.

"What's going on?"

He cocked his head to the side at her in confusion. "Hm?"

"I heard someone?"

"Oh!" He reached over and held up a large brown paper bag. "I got us Chinese food!"

She stared at him blankly. "You ordered delivery… to the room no one is supposed to know we're staying in?"

He had the decency to look a little nervous at her question. "Well, we're leaving tomorrow morning and there's no one around and he didn't see anything weird so it's fine, right?"

"You don't think the delivery guy is going to remember a half-naked dude in a fucking mask?"

"He might remember me, sure, but it's not like he knows who I am! Who's he going to tell?" He put the bag down on the coffee table. "I was just trying to surprise you, today was fucking awesome and I thought we deserved a treat."

She sighed and relaxed a little, it was a nice surprise. She eyed the takeout bag appreciatively before snapping her attention back to Vigilante. "Why are you still shirtless anyways? Get dressed."

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, I can't."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why not?"

"I'm out of clean shirts."

"You…you're out of clean shirts." She stared at him in disbelief. "How many shirts did you pack?"

"Two."

"For a week?!"

"Yes! Usually that's fine but you got gross goo on one, now the other is all bloody and I can't do anything about that now!"

He crossed his arms defensively across his chest, forcing her attention to his well-defined pecs. He wasn't seriously going to spend the whole night like this, was he?

Oh god, I'm not going to survive.

She flopped down on the couch with a sigh. "Fine, whatever. Let's just eat, I'm starving."

Vig tore open the takeout bag and began to unpack the various containers. He leaned over to grab some of the food, placing his shirtless self right in front of her face. She scooted back as far as she could, trying to resist the urge to grab his bicep and see if it was as firm as it looked. She accidentally knocked against his knee moving away and the soup container in his hands wobbled, threatening to splash over.

"Hey, watch it!" She glared at him. "If you make a mess, you're cleaning it up."

"Okay, okay!"

He steadied his hand and finished serving them both. She flicked on the TV, barely paying any attention to whatever was on but grateful for the small distraction as they ate.

She eyed the last piece of chicken in the container and glanced over at Vig. He had his eyes glued to the TV and didn't seem to notice her staring down his last bite.

What's the worst that could happen?

She darted her hand forward and speared the chicken on her fork, quickly raising it to her mouth. She had made it about halfway before he lunged at her and knocked her flat on the couch, grasping at the fork she held.

She let out a noise of outrage as his body pressed her firmly into the couch, pinning her down. She desperately tried to pull the fork out of his grip, trying her best to ignore how hard he was pressed against her. How the hell had he reacted that quickly?

"How dare you!" He hissed at her, still trying to wrestle the fork out of her hand. "That was mine and you know it."

"No way!" She protested weakly, she wasn't going to admit he was right.

"You're a thief. You know thieves need to be punished." He looked down at her, his face mere inches away from her. "At this point, you're practically begging for it."

She flushed a bright pink at his accusation, there was absolutely no way she was admitting he was right again. She tried to wrench her hand out of his grasp but failed against his strong grip. "I most certainly am no-" She stopped in surprise as their tug of war over the fork caused large blobs of sauce to fly off the utensil and splatter down her arm.

"Oh, great. Now you're making a fucking mess." She glared up at him.

He tightened his grip on her wrist and focused his gaze on the gooey drops splashed on her skin. "Well, then I better clean it up."

Her eyes widened as he leaned in closer and slowly parted his lips. The tip of his tongue flicked out and he licked a stripe up the inside of her wrist, trailing a wet line across her skin as he cleaned up the sticky mess.

Heat pooled between her legs and her heart started to race as she felt his tongue working along the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. What little of her self-control remained was dangerously close to snapping. She had spent the entire week avoiding this ridiculous tension and now she could feel every muscle, every hard edge of his torso on top of her. She couldn't give in now. She didn't hook up on the job, it was a liability. It was unprofessional. It was a risk. There was too much at stake. It was never worth it…

It's not worth it. It's …not …

She was shaken from her inner lecture when Vigilante pressed a small kiss to her wrist and turned towards her.

"There, all better."

He grinned at her and swiped his tongue along his bottom lip to lick the last of the sauce off.

Oh fuck it.

She moved her hand to grab his jaw and without giving either of them a moment to think about what was happening, she pulled him towards her and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was hard and desperate, she was pouring out the entire week’s worth of frustration into it. She swiped her tongue against his bottom lip and he easily opened his mouth to let her in. He tasted like sweet and sour sauce, they probably both did.

Finally, they were forced to break away for air. The pair were left breathless and panting, staring at each other in a mix of confusion and arousal. Vigilante broke the heavy silence first.

"Don't think this will let you off the hook for stealing my food.”

She was about to protest his accusation but he ducked down for another kiss before she could speak. The fork clattered to the floor as they both dropped it, he slipped his hand behind her head instead and she moved hers to cup his jaw. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her firm in his grasp as he kissed her. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, tugging on it. She moaned at the slight twinge of pain mixed with pleasure before he pulled back.

“Fuck.” He swore as he looked her over, her eyes were half-lidded and dark, her lips shiny and swollen from his kiss. "I knew you'd like that."

He shifted his weight and moved his hand from the back of her head down to her shoulder. He brushed his fingertips softly along her collarbone and up the side of her neck. Hooking his thumb under her jaw, he applied some pressure and forced her to turn her head and expose her throat to him.

"I'm biting you again."

There was no question in his tone, he was simply telling her what was about to happen. He leaned down and nipped at a spot right under her ear, smirking against her skin as he heard her breath hitch.

He whispered softly next to her ear, "That's for stealing my food."

He moved down, nuzzling against her neck before biting the side of her throat with more pressure.

"That's for not admitting you liked this last night."

Finally, he reached the junction between her neck and shoulder. Without waiting, he sank his teeth hard into the soft flesh right over her pulse point. She cried out, arching against him as the sharp points of his incisors dug into her skin.

He whispered into her shoulder. "And that's because I fucking wanted to."

He planted a soft kiss over the mark he'd made to slightly soothe the sting and started to pull away from her. She shot out her hand and grabbed the back of his neck, pressing his face against her before he could pull back. She could barely think straight, heat was coursing through her veins and there was only one thing she needed.

Her voice was thick and laced with desire when she finally spoke. "Don't stop."

He let out a low growl that vibrated against her skin and immediately acquiesced to her request. He nipped along her shoulder and back up her neck, a path of red marks tracing his steps. She arched up into him, feeling the warmth from his bare chest radiate through the painfully thin tank top she had on.

He kissed and bit every inch of skin he could reach, leaving scorching trails across her body. Taking full advantage of the low-cut neckline of her top, he dipped his head down to sink his teeth into the soft flesh at the swell of her breasts. He smirked against her skin when he felt her nipples tighten in response. She gasped when he leaned down and caught her left nipple between his teeth, the sharpness of his canines barely blunted by the thin fabric barrier.

She dug her nails into his shoulder as he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, saliva soaking through her top. The ache between her thighs was growing and she knew her panties were already soaked.

He slid his hand over her hip and tugged at the hem of her top.

"Can I take this off?" He mumbled the question as he fidgeted with the edge of the soft material.

She pushed him back slightly and arched her back off the couch in response. In a single motion, she grabbed the hem and yanked the tank top over her head, throwing it across the room behind her.

"Better?"

He swallowed hard as he stared down at her, now half-naked beneath him. His gaze roved over her exposed chest, down her sternum and across her stomach before ultimately settling directly on her bare breasts.

"Fucking perfect." His voice was low and hoarse as he drank her in. He cautiously smoothed his fingertips across her skin, tracing a path up her sides and along her ribs to the undersides of her breasts. Her head tipped back and her eyes fluttered closed as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. She let out a small squeak as he suddenly pinched one and he chuckled at her reaction.

"Shut up, they're sensitive." She flushed in embarrassment and smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

He cocked his head to the side and softly squeezed the flesh under his hand. "Should I be gentle?"

She bit her lip and looked up at him. "That's not what I said."

A grin split across his face and he squeezed her breast harder, watching her eyes roll back as she bit down on her lip. He kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, teasing her nipples into stiff peaks. Soft moans escaped her as she arched into his touch, his hands were calloused and rough against her skin. They were hands that got used regularly, to fight, shoot and kill, and right now, turn her insides to jelly.

She nearly bit through her lip when he caught a nipple between his teeth, biting down until she hissed and dug her nails into his shoulder. He released the tender bud and soothed it with his tongue.

He skimmed a hand down her side and across her lower abdomen until he hit the waistband of her shorts, briefly dipping his fingers past the elastic before retreating. He did it again before she huffed and pushed at his wrist, quickly shoving his hand past the band of both her shorts and underwear. He let out a short laugh at her desperation.

"You're so impatient."

As he slid his hand further down he quickly realized why she was so eager for him to touch her, groaning loudly as his fingers swiped through the absolute mess between her legs.

"Holy shit, you're soaked. How long have you been this turned on?"

Her face burned at the question. The answer was rather embarrassing at this point and she was having a hard enough time thinking straight while his fingers swirled around, teasing her slick entrance.

"Come on, answer me."

"Is this your usual interrogation technique?" She bit out a sarcastic response, trying to deflect the questioning.

"Nope. You're just special."

She bit back a whimper as his fingers ghosted over her clit but still avoided giving her the friction she was craving.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "All fucking day."

"All day? Why?"

She bit her lip and avoided his curious gaze. He frowned slightly and slid the pad of his middle finger over her clit, lightly pressing against it.

"Oh, god." She threw her head back as a jolt of electricity shot through her.

"Tell me." He pressed a finger against her clit again.

Her inner resolve snapped for the second time that evening and she couldn't help but blurt out the truth. "Fine! I like watching you work."

His hand stilled and she fought the instinct to whine at the loss of movement. He looked at her in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Yes."

He moved his fingers away and she failed to hold back another whine as her hips rocked up, desperate for more contact.

"You like watching me fight?"

He was being such a fucking tease, she couldn't take much more of this. She'd behaved all week long and now she just needed to lose herself, turn off all the thoughts in the back of her head. Her voice was low but still audible as she quietly admitted more. "Not just fight, I like watching you win."

She was about to go on when she was interrupted by him roughly capturing her lips, swallowing the loud moan she let out as he suddenly plunged a finger inside her. He quickly added a second, easily sinking them into her wet heat.

He released her mouth and started sucking marks along her neck and chest as he found a steady rhythm fucking into her with his hand, his thumb brushing against her clit as she whimpered underneath his touch. His teeth grazed against her nipple and her walls clenched around his fingers. This, this is what she needed from Vigilante right now.

She was moving against him, angling her hips to try and get his fingers in deeper. He was so close to hitting that sweet spot hidden inside but to her annoyance, his wrist was trapped by the waistband of her shorts and she couldn't quite get the relief she needed.

"Fuck, hold on one second!" She huffed and tugged on his wrist, biting back a whine as he pulled his digits from her and sat back with a confused look on his face.

"Need these off, now." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and slid the offending clothing off her hips. He quickly caught on and helped her pull them down her legs, flinging them somewhere into the room behind him. He shifted his position on the couch, placing his hands between her knees and slowly spread them apart.

She rested one foot on the back of the couch cushion and the other on the floor as she opened her thighs as far as she could. She was now completely naked and fully exposed to him. He groaned, red-tinted visor trained firmly on her glistening cunt. He unconsciously licked his lips at the sight before realizing there was something important he could ask her.

"Hey. Can… Can I eat your pussy?" He rested his cheek on her inner thigh as he searched her expression for a reaction.

She nearly choked on her own spit at the unexpected filth that just flew out of his mouth. He sounded like he was asking if he could have the last granola bar, not fuck her with his tongue.

It was an enticing offer she had to admit. It had been ages since she'd let someone do that, it never ended up being worth it. But he knew that already and was still offering... She watched his tongue flick out and drag across his bottom lip, his hungry gaze fixed firmly between her legs. The momentary anxiety she felt was quickly shoved to the side as the throbbing in her pussy helped her make a decision. There was just one thing she needed to make sure of.

"One condition."

"Anything."

She hesitated for a second before continuing. "Promise you'll make me cum?"

He seemed surprised by her request but quickly agreed. "That's pretty much the best part, so yeah. Absolutely."

"Say it." She caught his gaze behind the red glass of his visor and they locked eyes.

"I promise I'll make you cum with my mouth."

She sucked in a sharp breath at the way the words just rolled off his tongue nonchalantly before nodding at him, giving him the permission he needed.

He moved slowly, placing light kisses on her inner thigh as he inched his half-masked face down to her core. He gently spread her open with his fingers and she squirmed under his touch. He made an absolutely gorgeous sight between her legs, the exposed half of his face disappearing behind her thighs as he leaned in to taste her, leaving just part of his visor, black fabric, and white and teal stripes on his mask visible.

He gave a few experimental licks, humming softly with appreciation as her flavour hit his tongue. She shifted her hips under him, urging him closer. He started to swirl his tongue around, trying to find that sweet spot he had under his thumb just before.

He finally hit just the right spot, brushing the flat of his tongue against her clit and he felt her respond instantly. A loud gasp flew from her lips as her hips jerked upwards against his mouth. He wrapped an arm across her lower stomach and pressed down, trying to hold her still as he focused his attention on that sweet spot.

He relentlessly ran the tip of his tongue over her clit, relishing the noises she was making in response. She rocked her hips against him and slid a hand behind his head, trying to hold on to something as she writhed against his face. Her fingers accidentally grazed the seam at the back of his mask and he instinctively flinched, pulling back from her. She withdrew her hand as fast as she could.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I wasn't going to take it off, I just needed to hold on to something."

She panted, trying to catch her breath as she pleaded with him. She was so fucking close, she needed him to keep going. "Please, please don't stop."

His tone was cautious. "Just don't-"

"I won't. I'd never."

He slowly nodded. "Okay, I trust you."

She didn't have time to deal with the full implication of his words before he dove back between her legs with confidence. All traces of rational thought flew from her mind as his tongue plunged into her soaking pussy, eager to fulfil his promise.

She fisted her hands in the fabric of the couch as best she could as her hips lifted entirely off the cushions, grinding harder and harder against his face. Her taste flooded his mouth and he couldn't help but moan into her core, the vibrations rippling through her dripping center.

The waves of pleasure she was riding quickly started to reach the shore as Vigilante pushed her closer and closer to the edge. A barely coherent string of curses fell from her lips when he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, hard.

When he did it a second time she was sent flying over the edge, crying out and clamping her shaky thighs down around his head as she gushed all over his tongue, lips and chin. His mask rubbed against the sensitive skin on her inner thighs as he continued to lick at her, consuming every drop of pleasure that spilled out. When she couldn't take any more stimulation she lightly pushed at his shoulders and he finally let her go.

He sat back on his heels as he licked his lips and wiped his face clean with the back of his hand.

"Promise fulfilled?"

A lazy smile spread across her face as she basked in the afterglow of his successfully completed guarantee.

"Fuck yes."

She slowly sat up on the couch and looked over at him. She couldn't help but chuckle at the satisfied smirk that was plastered on his face, his adorable dimples on full display.

"Good. That was really fun, you taste amazing."

"Oh yeah?"

She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. She could taste herself, rich and heavy on his lips and determined he was correct. She quickly deepened the kiss chasing more of it, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

She sat up further and slid over to him, shoving at his shoulders to push him against the back of the couch and climbing onto his lap. She straddled him, instantly feeling his hard cock trapped through the thin fabric of his sweatpants.

She placed her hand along his throat, moving her thumb under his jaw and turning his head to the side in a mirror of his earlier actions.

"Your turn."

Her voice was raspy and thick with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She leaned over and nipped at the soft spot under his jaw, smiling when he twitched and grabbed at her waist in response. His large hands spread across her entire back as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. She gasped as her bare chest was pressed against his, her sensitive nipples rubbing against the hard lines of his muscles.

As long as she kept touching him, there was nothing else occupying her mind but the stunning sight of the gorgeous and deadly man coming undone in front of her. Consequences be damned, she needed this. Right here, right now, she needed him.

She sank her teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder, his nails digging into her sides at the sharp pinch. She continued biting down along his throat and shoulder while her hips found a steady rhythm grinding against his cock, her bare pussy making a mess of the fabric beneath her.

She released his neck and leaned back, placing her hands on his pecs and curling her fingers to dig into his skin. She slowly raked her nails down his chest, across his pecs and abs, decorating him with bright red lines. She scraped across his nipples and he hissed, bucking his hips up into her at the momentary discomfort.

The feeling of Vigilante squirming underneath her was overwhelmingly powerful. She knew he was letting her have this, if he really wanted he could break her hold and throw her across the room. But instead, he held still and behaved, willingly taking the onslaught of her teeth and nails against his skin.

She dragged her nails back up his chest, leaving a second set of marks on him. She quickly ducked her head down and replaced her hands with her lips, trailing soothing open-mouth kisses along the angry red paths she'd etched into his skin. She took her time, licking and gently dragging her teeth along every inch of his muscled torso. She finally made her way back down the waistband of his sweatpants. She slid off his lap to settle on her knees between his legs, tugging on the material.

"You're overdressed, take these off."

He quickly hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, tugging them down to free his painfully hard cock and kicked them off to the side. She was shamelessly staring at his dick, fuck he was gorgeous. Long and reasonably thick, it would be a challenge for her but nothing impossible to handle.

"Hey, you're making that face again."

She was very confused. "What face?"

"The face where you stare at me with your mouth open. Your eyes get all glazed over, kinda makes you look like a fish."

He raised a hand and squished her cheeks together into a fishy face. She made an annoyed noise and smacked his hands away, glaring at him.

"Quit it! Do you want me to blow you or not?"

"Um. Yes?"

"Yes, what?"

She leaned forward and grasped his cock firmly at the base before leaning in to slowly lick a slow languid stripe up to the tip.

"Fuck, yes. This. Yes to this."

She slowly pumped her hand up and down his hard length while she licked around the head, watching his eyes flutter shut behind his visor.

He bucked into his hips up her grip again and groaned

She found an alternating pattern between her mouth and hand, hand wrapped around the base as she fluttered her tongue up and down the shaft as she travelled along his length.

She started to swallow more of his cock, testing how far down she could take him. He flexed his grip on her hair instinctively when he hit the back of her throat and she moaned slightly from the tension on her scalp.

"Is this okay?" He asks, voice strained. She hummed in response and his hips jerked as the vibrations rocked against his sensitive hardness. "Fuck. Can I pull harder?"

She couldn't exactly reply properly with his cock shoved down her throat but the loud moan gave him enough assurance she was fine with it.

He gripped her hair firmly and started to tug, sliding her up and down on his cock. He slowly picked up the pace, his hand fisting hard in her hair as he thrust further into her mouth and entered her throat.

His breathing was ragged and heavy, getting harsher as he used her face to bring him closer and closer to the tipping point. She moaned around him, saliva starting to drip down around her mouth and chin. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You know, I thought you were super pretty when we met and I didn't think you could get any prettier than when I made you cum, but this?"

He pushed her down til she nearly gagged, forcing her to swallow him entirely down to the base. He held her there for a moment, just watching her try not to choke.

"Fuck, you look incredible like this."

He let her go and she pulled back, trying to catch her breath. He ran a thumb along her cheek, swiping up some of the spit and rubbing it against her lips.

"Absolutely beautiful."

She braced her hands on his thighs and took a deep breath, then wrapped her mouth around him and slid his cock right back down all the way on her own. He was already teetering on the edge, ready to spill down her throat when she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked him hard.

"Oh, shiiit."

He couldn't hold back any longer and exploded over her tongue. She held him in her mouth as he finished, swallowing down every last drop before she released him and watched him twitch with aftershocks, a very satisfied grin on both their faces.

He slid sideways on the couch and tugged her up from her knees, pulling her on top of him. She melted into his embrace and curled up in his arms with a contented sigh. He couldn't hold still, running his hands over every inch of her he could reach and pressing tiny kisses to her shoulder and neck. As long as this never stopped, everything would be fine.

She wasn't keeping close track of the time, laying in a foggy haze of pleasure, but after what felt like an impossibly short moment, she felt his cock twitch to life against her side.

"...are you getting hard again?"

"Uh, yeah? Obviously. You're extremely hot. And also naked. It's kind of unavoidable."

She flushed at the compliment. "I just meant it's really soon after you already came."

He blinked at her a few times. "It's been at least fifteen minutes, that's plenty."

She shook her head, making another mental note for the 'weird shit about Vigilante' file when she felt his cock nudge her side again and made a decision. She carefully extricated herself from his hold and stood up, reaching out a hand out to him.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"Oh, okay yeah. I guess you're tired. That makes sense." He looked up at her, eyes trailing up her body to her face but getting stuck halfway up her chest, focusing on her tits instead.

"No! Vig." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Not for sleeping."

"...then for what?"

"You. In bed. With me. Together. Awake."

She stood there naked in front of him speaking patiently, staring at his erection and waiting for him to connect the dots.

After a brief pause, he finally had a lightbulb moment of realization. "Oh! Holy shit, yes."

She nodded and he scrambled off the couch, scooping her off her feet and quickly carrying her over to the bed. He promptly dropped her down in the middle of the mattress

She giggled a little at his enthusiasm as she bounced on impact against the soft surface. She scooted back against the pillows and slowly spread her legs apart. He couldn't help but moan at the sight of her on full display for him, open wide and waiting.

As he crawled up the bed to meet her, she focused on the pitch black of his mask and the strip of red glass hiding his eyes. The dark armour was in such sharp contrast to the rest of his exposed and naked form. She was fully exposed to him but he could only show her almost everything about himself. That was more than enough for now.

He gripped the base of his cock and pumped it into his hand a few times before leaning over her. He started teasing the head against her slick folds, gathering some of the wetness.

"Viiiig…" She whined, grabbing at his upper arms.

"Yes?" He tapped his cockhead against her clit and smirked when her hips jolted.

"Stop teasing me!"

"You want me to stop, hm?" He held still for a moment and laughed at her when she immediately pouted up at him.

She bucked her hips forward, desperately trying to nudge his cock further in. "Don't you fucking dare."

He chuckled again and pulled his hips back, thwarting her efforts.

"Calm down. I'm just trying to warm you up, I don't want to hurt you."

She huffed in frustration. "I can take it, just fuck me already!"

He looked at her closely as she glared up at him. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark, pupils blown out wide with a hungry expression.

"You sure?"

The corner of his lips twitched up into that godforsaken grin. He slid his cock against her folds one more time before lining up his hard length at her entrance. He didn't want to hurt her but if she insisted, well…

She bucked her hips towards him again and practically yelled. "Yes!"

"Alright. Just remember, you asked for it."

He pushed all the way in with a single thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside her within seconds. She shrieked at the sharp sting as he stretched her wide open and quickly bottomed out deep inside.

Her noises quickly melted into whimpers and her eyes rolled back as the pain faded and the complete and utter fullness of having him sheathed fully inside her overwhelmed her.

"Damn. I guess you can take it." He held still as she squirmed against him.

"Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd fit. You're so fucking tight. You know what they say, tiny hands, tiny pus-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll fucking shoot you." She reached out and wrapped a hand around his throat as she hissed out the threat.

He was going to wait patiently, give her a few moments to adjust, but that's certainly not what she wanted right now.

"Move, now." She squeezed the sides of his neck along with her demand. For a moment she worried she may have gone too far as he completely froze under her grip but she watched carefully as the outline of his eyes fluttered shut behind his visor and his fingertips dug harder into her thighs with a barely audible whimper escaping his lips.

He started to roll his hips against her, ever so slowly dragging his cock along her walls.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Fuck, yes." Her voice was breathless and raw, and her grip on his neck loosened as she threw her head back against the pillows.

He took the opportunity to wrench her hand away from his neck and grab her other hand, pinning them both beside her head. He leaned over, pressing his chest flat against hers and caging her against the mattress with his body. He peppered small kisses all along her cheek, jaw and throat, anywhere he could reach.

"I meant it, by the way." He panted out, looking down at her. "So fucking tight."

His weight on top of her pinned her to the mattress along with her hands, she was unable to do anything but take what he was giving her. He picked up the pace, the sound of her moans spurring him on.

He couldn't help but smile at the absolute vision underneath him. She was taking him so well, crying out with each thrust and biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up at him with glassy eyes.

"So fucking perfect."

He suddenly snapped his hips up harshly, bottoming out and grinding his hips against her.

"Fuck, Vig!" She practically screamed as she writhed against him.

He had a smug grin plastered on his face as he listened to her shout.

"Hey, do me a favour?"

She squinted at him, this was a pretty strange time to ask for favours. "Uh, okay?"

"Next time you scream my name, can you say the whole thing?"

She puffed out her cheeks, now glowing red with embarrassment. "I am not screaming!"

He cocked his head to the side. "You sure?" His grin widened. "Does that mean you can get louder?"

"I-I…" She stuttered, failing to come up with a reply.

"Yeah? You gonna scream for me?"

Something daring sparked in her eyes as she looked back at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Make me."

His expression turned downright predatory as he stared at her and her heart sped up at the dangerous look. He released her hands from beside her head and leaned back. He slid his palms along the backs of her thighs up behind her knees, and he slowly pressed her legs further into the mattress.

"You asked for it." His voice was barely above a whisper but carried the same dangerous tone as his face.

She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he set a punishing pace, every thrust shoving her further into the mattress. The new angle let his cock hit deeper inside her, brushing against her G-spot and making her feel impossibly full.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as she clung to him, desperately raking her nails over his shoulders as he pounded into her. Her tits bounced with every pump of his hips, her tender nipples rubbing back and forth against his chiselled chest, sending pure fire through her veins.

He bit down on her shoulder and she yelped, her cunt clenching around him. He groaned as her walls squeezed him tightly, his harsh grip on her hips digging bruises into her flesh.

"That's it, as loud as you can."

At this point, she wasn't sure which was louder, the sounds of pleasure he was wringing from her or the creaking springs of the shitty motel bed.

He slammed his hips back into her and fucked her relentlessly, driving her closer and closer to the edge. He hit just the right spot at the exact moment he clamped his teeth hard around her breast, right over her nipple. The mix of delicious pleasure and sharp pain caused her to shriek the loudest she could.

"Atta girl."

He placed kisses all along her chest and up her neck, mumbling half-hearted nonsense into her skin. She caught random words through the haze of her pleasure.

"So pretty…"

"…feel so good."

"So fucking loud."

Beads of sweat dripped down his temples, his mask sticking to his forehead as he kept up the pace and sent them both hurtling toward the finish line.

"Where do you want…?"

She could barely form coherent thoughts but managed to choke out an answer. "Inside."

He groaned loudly, his hips stuttering and eyes rolling back behind his visor at the suggestion.

"Seriously? Are you sure?"

"It's fine, I'm -ahh- …it's safe!"

She locked her ankles behind him and pulled him as close as possible, holding him in place inside her. Her nails dragged across his back and shoulders, leaving angry red scratches as she pressed every inch of herself against him.

He sunk his teeth into her shoulder in a vicious bite, right over top of the small mark he had left there the night before. The shock sent her flying over the edge, walls tightly fluttering around his cock as she screamed his name and shattered in his arms.

He continued to fuck her through her high, trying desperately to hold on and drag it out as long as possible for the both of them. She felt like heaven and he never wanted to leave.

She was going to scream herself hoarse if he kept going at this rate, so she bit down on his shoulder to muffle herself. He whimpered loudly as she caught the hard muscle between her teeth and she felt his hips stutter as his pace finally started to falter.

"Come on." She whispered encouragement into his neck, "Cum for me, Vigilante." She drew out each syllable of his chosen name breathlessly in his ear before she leaned down and sunk her teeth into the side of his throat.

"Fuckfuckfuck!" He practically howled as he came undone, emptying his aching cock deep inside her. She held him close, peppering kisses along the bite marks she'd left as he went limp in her arms.

He slowly eased his softening cock out and collapsed on the bed beside her, careful not to crush her under his weight. They both lay there for a moment, shaky and sweaty, trying to catch their breath as they floated back down to Earth together.

"You're sure this was okay?" He had sat up and his gaze was firmly lowered on her exposed pussy, drenched in a mix of their cum.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's a whole thing. No kids."

He only hummed softly in response, clearly distracted by the sight in front of him. He leaned over and brushed his fingers against her dripping cunt, smearing his cum against her clit. She twitched, still slightly sensitive and he slowed his pace.

"You're making a mess." She couldn't help but smile a little as she watched his awestruck expression staring at the mess leaking out of her.

Another quiet hum was the only response he gave as he continued to run his fingers through the mix of their combined fluids.

She gave him another moment or two before gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away.

"That's enough of that, I need to clean this up." She tugged his hand up to her mouth and quickly stuck his fingers in her mouth. He watched in wide-eyed silence as she licked them clean. She released them with a small pop only when no trace of their mess remained.

"Hand me the tissues?"

Vig snapped out of his trance, wordlessly grabbing the box sitting on the nightstand and handing it to her before flopping down on the mattress next to her.

"Give me twenty minutes and we can do that again." He quickly glanced down at the glistening mess between her thighs. "Maybe ten…"

She rolled her eyes as she cleaned herself up. "Again, seriously? Are you sure you don't have superpowers?"

He just laughed and started trailing kisses down her neck, following the path of the bites he had decorated her with. She swatted his face away from her body before he started something she was way too tired to finish. After the day they'd had, she was absolutely exhausted. She rolled over to face him and before she could say anything she failed to contain a wide yawn.

"I think it's bedtime." She carefully extricated herself from his embrace and got off the bed. "Come on, Vig."

"I'm already in bed though?"

She glanced down at the sweat (and other fluids) soaked covers crumpled on the bed he was laying on.

"We kind of ruined the sheets on this one. I'm not going to make you sleep in the wet spot, we'll just share." She climbed into the other twin bed and pulled back the covers, motioning for him to join her.

She moved over as much as she could but there still wasn't much space. Vigilante stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed fidgeting with the duvet.

"You alright?"

"Um, I just …don't usually don't get to stay for this part." He admitted as he cautiously climbed onto the bed next to her.

She snorted at his shyness, finding it deeply amusing that the man who just came inside her was being so awkward about some cuddling. Rolling over to her side, she reached over and gently took one of his arms, pulling it under her head before taking the other and draping it over her waist. She tried her best to reassure him.

“You can touch me, it's okay.”

He shifted a little behind her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Just don- oof!" She was cut off mid-sentence as he wrapped his arm around her middle and yanked her backwards into his chest. He held her firmly against him and buried his face in her shoulder, folding around her like a cocoon.

"…don't move around too much." She managed to finish her sentence.

"Okie doke." He mumbled in response.

She smiled into the pillow at his silly tone and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body as he held her. "Goodnight, Vigilante."

He placed a small kiss on her shoulder before fidgeting with his mask, then he settled back against the pillows.

"Goodnight."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: Holy shit we made it, the slow burn is a full-on inferno. Thank you all for sticking through 20k of exposition just to get here 😂 This was such a challenging chapter to finish but I really hope it was worth it and you all enjoyed it! This is just the beginning for these two, don't worry. Please let me know what you think :) Feedback makes my world go round.

PS: I've mapped out the rest of this series, there should be about 18-20 chapters in total. Chapters 7 and 8 are already half done and hopefully there won't be such a long delay between future updates~

TAGLIST: @pretendfan @fatherdannydevito @dallasvakarian @she-wolf09231982 @tsukette @afraidofshrimp @neenieweenie

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 2 years

Text

chapter v – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,000+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Y/N opened her eyes with a wince. This seemed like deja vu from when she had first arrived in the Night Court.

But now she could recognize her whereabouts. A fire was crackling at the opposite end of the room. But the smell of lavender and fresh flowers was a new addition.

She tried to sit up to investigate.

Whoever had placed her here clearly meant to lay her on her stomach, and she expected to feel a lightning strike of pain.

But there was none.

Oh, Cauldron. She had been slashed across her back with a sword.

“The healers mended your back, but your body will still be sore.”

Y/N quickly turned her head to see that Azriel was sitting in a chair behind her. Papers were in his lap and there was a large mug of tea on the table beside him.

Had he been watching over her this whole time?

“How long have I been out?” Her voice was so raspy, somewhat answering her own question.

“A couple days,” Azriel frowned.

She glanced around the room, seeing a dozen bouquets.

The Shadowsinger followed her gaze.

“Gifts from Rhys,” he answered without question. “He and Feyre will never forget what you did for Nyx.”

“He’s just a baby. Anyone would have done the same…” Y/N shrugged, belittling her own actions.

Azriel leaned forward, only sincereness found on his face. “What you did was brave, Y/N. I’ve seen 300-year-old males run from lesser. Do not discredit yourself so swiftly.”

It was strange getting such a compliment, especially from a male – and one as handsome as Azriel. She hoped her face didn’t look as hot as it felt.

To change the subject, she pointed to the handful of potted plants that sat amongst the bouquets of flowers. “And…the herbs?”

“Rhys has been…researching witchcraft. He also studied the protective smudge Nyx had in his hand.” Azriel smirked. “His way of thanking people tends to involve giving them an absurd amount of gifts.” He gestured to all the flowers and herb plants. “And this will be not be the end of his thanks.”

Y/N bit back a grin.

It was sweet, but unnecessary.

Rhysand was a High Lord – and perhaps the most powerful one at that. He needn’t waste so much money and effort doing such things for her. She was just a human.

Then Y/N remembered...

“Cassian!” She gasped, sitting up even straighter.

Azriel held up a hand, trying to calm her down. “Fae’s heal quickly,” he assured her.

And then gave her a shy smile, “Stubborn Illyrians, even quicker. Cass is already back to training the Valkyries today.”

Y/N didn’t know what Valkyries were, but she was too distracted by her relief that Cassian was alright to bother asking. Maybe she’d ask the wind later, if she even remembered.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked softly.

“Umm…better than I should be.” Carefully, she swung her legs off the bed to stand. “Guess I have you faes and your healing magic to thank for that.”

“Well, it appears you have even more tricks up your sleeve. Feyre was rather impressed with your salt shield.”

“And Nyx is alright?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Azriel tried to calm her. “He was shaken, but he will be fine. Everyone has just been worried about you.”

“Oh,” she muttered under her breath.

It had been awhile since anyone worried about her. There used to be. Her mother. Her sister. Her entire coven. But those days had passed long ago.

“Rhys wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight. Feyre is convinced Nyx is restless and will continue to be until he sees you.”

“Dinner?” Y/N repeated dumbly.

“Yes, later tonight, at the River House. If you are up for it, of course.”

The first time she had been to the River House was the day of the attack, to pick up Nyx. But Feyre had walked right out, not even giving them a reason to knock on the front door. If it was as magnificent on the inside as the outside, Y/N was sure she’d feel out of place.

“Umm…Yes. A-Alright,” Y/N nodded.

Azriel looked rather happy with that answer.

It seemed risking her life to save his nephew had finally made Azriel lose all suspicion towards her. (But unbeknownst to Y/N, it had only taken a few days for him not to view her as a threat to his court and those he loved.)

Azriel stood slowly and pointed to the wardrobe. “Mor picked out a dress for you. But wear whatever you wish. I will be here at 7 to take you there.” He opened the door to the hallways to make his leave. “Should you need anything, the House will get it. She’s been worried about you, too.”

Now that she was alone, Y/N slowly walked to the only mirror in the room.

The healers may have saved her back, but the bruising on her face would have to heal in its own due time. She was still mortal after all.

She had a split lip and a black eye on the left side of her face, as well as similar bruising below on her cheek, from being punched by the male.

Despite her injuries, she felt energized after getting two days worth of sleep and rest. And now she needed to get out of her room.

Y/N closed her door just as two servants were walking by. Surprisingly, there were very few of them. The House seemed to take care of a lot of things. But being the formal location for political meetings, it was still expected to be taken care of by faes.

“I will meet you after I feed the horses,” one of the females said to the other.

“Horses?” Y/N didn’t even mean to blurt it out.

The females both turned to look at her with polite and shy smiles. “Yes, my lady. They belong to the High Lord and Lady.” Then she gave her a side smirk. “But they prefer to…fly, as I’m sure you know.”

“May I come with?” Y/N asked the one who said she was going feed them.

She bowed her head slightly. “Of course, my lady.”

–––––––––

Eris was riding out with his most loyal sentries.

They knew of his plan.

Their exit was purposely planned to gain the attention of the High Lord. Eris wanted his father to see him leaving the Forest House, clearly going on a scouting voyage.

But as soon as they reached the border a few hours later, Eris would depart from his troops and winnow to the Night Court.

He hadn’t slept the past two nights, scared out of his mind that Y/N was in danger.

This morning, he had enough and rushed to his mother’s rooms as soon as he knew she would be awake.

“If she were dead, you would know it, Eris.” Leonora reassured him. "You would feel it with your entire being."

“But she was so scared and in pain. I could feel it, mother.”

Eris knew he wouldn’t be in his right mind until he saw for himself that Y/N was alive. And if she was hurt, he wanted to know how it was allowed to happen and to what extent.

So he knew exactly how much he would hurt Rhysand in return.

Eris didn’t expect to be able to winnow into the House of Wind, knowing that the entranceway was the only small area that would even allow guests to enter.

But it seemed Rhysand opened the wards especially for him, for he was standing in a different part of the house.

A servant was looking at him, and should’ve appeared more surprised to see him.

She glanced at his bright, red hair. “You must be Lord Eris,” she greeted with a bow. “High Lord Rhysand warned the staff that you would most likely visit.”

“I am sure he did,” Eris sneered.

The servant only blinked at his aggressive response, maintaining her composure. “Shall we make up a room for you, my lord?”

Eris ignored the question. “Where is…” he hesitated. “Where is Y/N?”

His question also didn’t seem to surprise the servant at all, as if she was also expecting this from him.

“She is at the stables, my lord.”

“Show me.”

His entire body was buzzing, knowing that he was getting closer and closer to his mate.

The servant finally stopped and gestured to the barn just a few yards away. She seemed to know to leave him alone to greet their other guest.

Eris only nodded his thanks, not used to being polite to the help. In Autumn, he never even looked them in the eye. That was just another unfortunate part of wearing his mask.

Now that he was alone, Eris allowed himself a moment to take in a deep breath.

Slowly, he made his way to the opening of the stables.

When he saw her, the air was knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t seem to take in a breath.

Y/N stood barefoot, lovingly petting a black shire horse, who looked to be utterly happy with her attention and affection.

She wore a casual dress in a soft blue so often found in this court. And Eris was convinced it was actually her nightgown.

He instantly spotted the bandages that were wrapped around her shoulder and waist, peaking around the fabric of her dress. But he had yet to figure out if it was from a torso or back wound.

“You’re very a pretty boy,” Eris heard her whisper to the horse.

A soft wind passed through the stables’ corridor. And that’s when Y/N seemed to finally notice she was no longer alone.

She whipped around to face him, fear and surprise clear in her eyes.

That was when Eris could also see the bruises covering her face and the deep split in her lip.

Y/N quickly took him in, assessing his entrance.

Eris felt scrutinized as she looked at his attire up and down. He was wearing his Autumn Court uniform of fighting leathers, the colors of his court obvious as ever. He'd never looked more out of place in the Night Court.

Which was why Y/N whipped out a knife from her back.

Eris smoothly raised his hands in surrender. “I mean you no harm.” But his words sounded too harsh, too cold.

He cleared his throat. “I did not mean to startle you.” It managed to come out softer.

“You do not belong to the Night Court,” she pointed out, once again eyeing his uniform.

But before Eris could properly introduce himself, another gust of wind came. This time, it only seemed to swirl around Y/N, making her hair frame her face ever so beautifully.

“Eris, son of Beron, the High Lord of Autumn Court,” Y/N spoke as if she were responding to the wind and not him.

Eris tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “The wind has a peculiar way of following you around.”

The acute observation only made Y/N even more uncomfortable and she held up her knife higher.

But then she squinted, seeming to only be able to stare at his red hair. “You were there that day. I saw you…before…before I…” She shook her head. “You. You were the one who brought me here.”

Before Eris had a chance to respond, shadows jumped in between the two of them.

Azriel appeared out of nowhere. No, out of the shadows.

“Why you here?” He spat at Eris.

“You know why,” he growled right back.

“Azriel?” Y/N questioned him with such innocence.

Eris took note of the protective and close stance the Illyrian had toward his mate. And it took great power for him not to growl at him to stay away from her.

Azriel only slightly turned to her, not wanting to let his guard down with Eris. “Mor offered to help you get ready for dinner. Perhaps you should return to your rooms.”

When Y/N didn’t move, he fully turned to her and made sure to rid himself of the glare he was giving Eris. “I will be there soon to take you.”

Y/N eyed him a moment longer before finally leaving.

She did not lower her weapon as she passed Eris, and she put an egregious amount of space between them as she did.

But Eris didn’t take his eyes off her as she did so. Even with the distance, he could still see her y/e/c and he took in her scent for as long as he could. Was that a hint of lavender?

Once fully past him, Y/N quickened her steps and disappeared back into the winding hallways of the House of Wind.

“What happened to her?” Eris growled.

Azriel’s nostrils flared at question. “She was out hiking in the woods with Cassian and Nyx when they were attacked.”

Eris stepped closer. “By whom?” He hissed.

“We do not know. But they wanted Nyx. And Y/N risked her life to protect him. When Rhys arrived, he was blinded by his rage, and killed them all. There was no one left alive for me to question.”

Eris gave Azriel his most belittling look. His voice lowered as he muttered, “Unfortunate your High Lord still lives. He broke his vow, after all.”

“It’s unfortunate your High Lord lives, as well. Otherwise you would not need to hide your mate in a court that is not your own.”

With the word ‘mate,’ Eris lost all composure.

In one swift motion, Eris unsheathed the knife at his thigh and swung it with the intention of slitting Azriel’s throat.

But the Shadowsinger caught it.

“Enough,” a voice said behind Eris.

Azriel glared at his High Lord over Eris’ shoulder, but still shoved the male away.

Eris turned to face Rhysand.

Before he could speak, the High Lord explained, “I asked Azriel to invite you to dinner, but I doubted he would be able to do so before trying to kill you. Seems I was right.”

He offered his hand to Eris, “Come.”

The two of them winnowed, leaving Azriel behind.

They appeared in front of a manor along a river. It was large, but looked lived-in. Somehow both grand and yet still homey. It was unlike any other home of a High Lord that Eris had ever visited.

“Feyre is waiting for us in the office,” was all Rhysand said before opening the small iron gate and walking up the stone path to the front door.

But just before Rhysand opened it, he turned to Eris. “This is our home. Do not make me regret bringing you here.”

Eris only gave a curt nod, but still glared.

When they entered an office, Feyre turned to face them quickly.

As soon as Rhysand closed the door, giving them privacy, Eris broke the tension.

“Evidently, the bargain failed to kill you. So, there’s no need to be obsequious.” Eris rolled his eyes. “Bringing me into your home, inviting me to dinner with your family…it’s almost offensive that you believe it will make a difference.”

“We invited you to give you an opportunity,” Rhysand answered, joining his mate’s side as he picked off a piece of lint from his jacket.

“An opportunity for what, exactly?”

“Speak with your mate.”

It was no surprise that he mentioned Y/N so openly. If Azriel knew, then Rhysand and those closest to him did, too. Eris expected that they would figure it out eventually.

Eris surprised them by looking at the ground as he carefully asked, “Does she know?”

“No,” Feyre answered. “I doubt she even knows about mates. Most humans don’t.”

Eris gave a curt nod before adding, “She must never know.”

“I can strongly advise from personal experience that it is not recommended,” Rhysand said with a smirk.

But Eris only scowled in return.

Rhysand took in a deep breath. “None of us will speak of it to her. I can assure you.”

Eris gave another nod. “I should be on my way.”

He had promised himself to bring the same pain to Rhysand that Y/N had suffered. But being in his mates presence, looking into her eyes, taking in her scent...it had jumbled his thoughts in a way that made it hard to think clearly.

“But you’ve only just arrived,” Feyre argued.

“We invited you to dinner,” Rhysand reminded him, as if they would be offended Eris left now.

“I should not linger,” Eris told them.

Rhysand stepped to him. “You promised Autumn’s loyalty for her. Do you not wish to see who it is you are protecting? The person you so blindly offered your court for?”

Eris seemed to have a storm brewing in his mind.

Rhysand could tell Eris had trained to protect his mind from his daemati abilities. But the turmoil was still so evident to him. Perhaps because he once stood exactly where the male was now. The torture of knowing one’s mate, but staying away with the belief that they would be happier, safer.

“Fine,” Eris snapped.

“Please, make yourself at home in the drawing room,” Feyre told him.

“I plan on helping myself to whatever spirits you have lingering about,” Eris snapped before walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him.

Feyre tried to hold back her smile as she turned to her mate. “Why do you treat him so generously now?” She squinted. “Do you truly see yourself in him?”

“Feyre darling, you do not know what it feels like…"

He shook his head at the memories.

"I was aware you were my mate, and you hated me. But at least you knew me. Yes, there was a time when I felt you were out there, before we ever even looked into each other’s eyes. But I do not think I would have had the strength to stay away from you like he is doing.”

To his surprise, Feyre seemed to give him a look of understanding. “It seems I pity him, too.”

“I cannot say I expected that,” Rhys smirked.

“I think one day we will see that Eris has a mask of his own. Perhaps one not so different than your own.”

“Being mates does not always equate to love,” Rhysand stated darkly. “My parents are proof of that.”

He sighed, “If I see them going in that direction, I will put a stop to it. And Y/N will continue having a place here.”

Feyre leaned into her mate. “This dinner is going to be a mess, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “I will be disappointed if it’s not.”

And then placed a kiss to her head.

–––––––

let me know if anyone is reading this. send me a message 😔👉🏻👈🏻

how do you think dinner is gonna go?

what do you think Y/N will think of Eris?

chapter vi

#eris vanserra #eris fic #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #night court #feysand #eris vanserra reader insert #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra's mate #eris acotar

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if-mirrormine · 1 year

Text

the one that got away

summary: when you’re invited to the wedding of a friend from high school, the last thing you expect to happen is to be reunited with your high school sweetheart.

pairing: alex x mc

word count: 2254

based on the request: maybe something set in an au where mc doesn't go missing and a few years after their break up with alex they're reunited and rekindle their relationship?

**unedited//i wrote this over the span of three separate days so idk how good it actually is but it's finished and that's more than i can say for a lot of other things i've got going on**

request a drabble here!

you've been friends with veronica bauer since highschool. you haven't physically seen her since you graduated, with you choosing to study locally and her going to a fashion school in france, but you kept in touch. you were always the first person she went to with big life updates, from her first apartment to the dog she rescued to the hot french guy she met at a cafe. so it was no surprise to you when you received an invitation to their wedding three years after the fact.

the ceremony was beautiful. set in a vineyard at sunset, decorated gorgeously in colours of red and gold. you weren't part of the wedding party but you happily sat in the third row, watching veronica walk down the aisle in an extravagant trumpet style gown. she met her groom at the altar and together they stood in front of friends, family and enough flower arrangements to make all the bees in the world happy. they exchanged their vows in an endearing combination of french and english before sharing their first kiss as a married couple while you and all the other guests cheered them on.

now here you stand in the reception. as happy as you are for your friend, some of the novelty has begun to wear off. surrounded by people you haven’t spoken to in years, you linger around the entrance, waiting for your turn to look at the seating chart. you’re dreading it somewhat, being seated next to people you no longer know how to talk to; your life is far from what you expected it would be at this point, and you’re not sure how you’ll fit in with everyone who seems to have it all figured out.

suddenly the people in front of you are walking away and you force yourself to relax your shoulders as you step up to the chart, scanning the dozens of names listed in search of your own. releasing a slow breath, you find your name listed under table four. seated among you are other friends of veronica, ones you never met. you don't know if that's better or worse for your ever-growing anxiety.

you follow the crowd of wedding guests into the venue hall, walking directly past your assigned table on your way to the open bar. if you're going to make through the night in one piece, you'll need at least one glass of liquid courage. you're not usually much of a drinker but you're willing to make an exception for times like this.

the bartender offers you an easy going smile as you step up to the bar. "what can i get you?" she asks you and your eyes momentarily flick to the array of bottles behind her. even something as simple as that is enough to overwhelm you.

"a glass of white wine, please," you say. best to start off simple, you think. she nods and turns her attention to fixing your drink. you take a calming breath and tap your fingers against the bar top, hoping you don't across as too nervous or anxious. but knowing yourself, you probably do.

"here you go," she says after a moment, setting the glass in front of you and without hesitating, you pick it up and down it one go. she watches with raised eyebrows before gesturing to the glass when you set it back down. "did you… want another?"

you're quick to nod and she pauses before reaching for the bottle once more. once refilled, you take a sip, deciding to nurse this glass for a bit longer and after making sure you no longer need her, she sets off to help someone else.

you're about to walk away when someone sidles up to next you. "since when do you drink?" they ask softly and at the sound of their voice, you freeze in place. glancing up at their face, your eyes meet and you inhale a sharp breath.

you haven't seen alex in years. your break up had been mutual but you've regretted immensely ever since. there were moments where they were all you could think about and you felt as though you were drowning in your heartbreak. your mom told you that you'd move on eventually but eventually still hasn't come.

looking at them now, it's as if no time has passed at all. you're teenagers once again, so young and so in love and so unaware of what the future holds for you. you wish so badly for that to be true.

alex smiles at you, though they raise their eyebrows slightly in concern. "mc?"

you shake yourself from your thoughts, from your longing of just being with them again, and force yourself on the question they'd asked you. "i'm not sure exactly," you say, clearing your throat as you glance down at your glass. "sometime in college, i think."

you look back at them and they nod, their smile growing slightly. "as it so often does," they say wistfully. "you look great, by the way. i should've led with that."

you flush at their words, averting your eyes. "so do you," you tell them, earnest. alex was always beautiful and the passing years have only improved on that. you take another sip of your wine, focusing once more on the moment. you would never have expected them to be here; from what you remember, they'd only ever had brief interactions with the bride. before you can stop yourself, you decide to ask them yourself. "veronica invited you?"

they nod. "yeah, we bumped into each other a few months ago and reconnected," they explain. "her inviting me was kind of last minute but when i found out you were coming, i couldn't say no."

"really?" you say and the incredulous tone of your voice makes them laugh. you hadn't meant to sound so shocked but you are in a way. you two had broken up after all, there shouldn't be any reason for them to base their decision to come solely on you.

"is that so hard to believe?" they ask, an amused smile on their face. "i've missed you quite a bit, you know? you're not an easy person to get over."

any kind of remark dies on your tongue at their words. you've long dreamt of this moment, of alex telling you how much they missed you, but it's different than how you'd imagined it. just because they miss you doesn't mean they want you back.

you're saved from having to come up with a response when the bartender reappears, asking alex if they'd like anything to drink. they nod, ordering a cocktail you've never heard of before and it only takes a minute or so for the woman to mix it for them.

with their drink in hand, they turn back to you, that same easy smile on their face. "where are you sitting?" they ask. "i'd like to catch up some more, if that's okay with you."

you're nodding before they even finish speaking and they stifle a laugh at your eagerness. "four," you tell them and together you make your way over to your table, your nerves easing by the second.

"so there i am, elbows deep this guys chest when all of sudden, my stomach starts turning."

"don't tell me…"

"yep; the burrito's coming back with a vengeance."

"no! what did you do?"

"i did what any rational person does: i dropped everything, which just so happened to be the man's heart, and sprinted to the bathroom like my life depended on it. thank god it was just a cadaver or else i might've been kicked out of medschool right then and there."

you stifle your laugh behind your hand and alex grins at you. "sorry that happened to you," you say.

"well, you're still laughing so i don't think you actually are," they reply, feigning a hurt expression before it quickly melts away. "and in any case, it taught me available lesson."

you look at them amused. "what lesson would that be?"

"to not eat food from a suspicious street cart no matter how good of a bargain it is," they say solemnly but their seriousness doesn't last long. "what about you?" they ask, taking a sip of their drink before giving you their full attention. "any fun and embarassing stories from your college days?"

you smile and shrug your shoulders. you have no issue listening to alex talk all night, you'd actually prefer it. "not much to tell," you say honestly. "school was school."

they look at you deadpan. "come on, not even an anecdote?"

you avert your eyes, a shy smile playing on your lips. "well… during graduation, i slipped going up the stairs to the stage and fell back onto everyone behind me. my mom's got it all on video; just a line of thirty students going down like dominoes."

"way to leave a lasting impression," they laugh.

suddenly the music begins to dim and everyone around you begins making their way to their assigned seats. alex glances up, frowning slightly before looking back to you. "guess that means i should go find my actual seat," they say and you can't help but latch onto the dejection in their voice. they stand up, grabbing their drink, and make a show of looking around the room to try and spot their table.

without thinking, you stand up next to them and they drag their eyes away from a table in the back to your face. "i'll come with you," you say before they can ask. "i'm sure no one will mind switching with me. they'd be getting a better seat anway."

you can see they want to ask if you're sure but after a brief second of hesitation, they nod, smiling once again and you think it's the most beautiful they've ever looked.

they take your free hand in theirs as if it’s something they do every day and you're all too happy to follow as they lead you through the sea of people to their table.

the night flies by you in a blur of laughter and drinks and dancing. you never leave alex's side - or maybe they never leave yours - and with each lingering touch, each meaningful stare, you felt yourself slipping back into love with them. the feelings you had for them never truly went away, no matter how much you told yourself you were over them or buried the truth. in fact, you think those feelings have at least doubled in the mere few hours you've spent with them. you're so royally fucked.

the guests have long started to filter out of the venue. the bride and groom had dutifully made their rounds and more to drink than any human being probably should before not so secretly sneaking out to do as newlyweds do. the party has been shrinking ever since.

sat together at a random, alex polishes off the last their drink, their fingers unconsciously woven with yours. "that's gonna leave a nasty hang over in the morning," they say, setting the glass back down with a finality that makes your heart clench. it's too soon for the night to be over.

"i'd have thought you doctors would've found a way around that by now," you say, teasing them and they flash a smile at you.

"alas, there some things even someone as great i can't do." they heave a dramatic sigh before glancing around the ballroom and you follow their eyes. almost entirely empty by now, the only people left are one or two members of the wedding party, staff members beginning to clean up the place and the two of you, sitting together in an untouchable bubble of perfect happiness. your heart gives another woeful clench.

"it's getting late," they say softly and when you back at them, you find their eyes on your joined hands. you tighten your grip without really meaning to. this can't be the end.

"yeah, i guess it is," you reply, too much of a coward to say the words you really want to.

slowly, they bring their eyes back up to meet yours and you suck in a deep breath at the intensity with which they look at you. "i never did manage to get over you," they say eventually and your eyes widen slightly. "even after all this time, you're still the person i love the most."

alex was always braver than you, in words and in actions, and they're ability to speak so clearly and say all the things you've longed to hear for years has floored you. if only it was as easy as they make it look.

"so, where does that leave us?" you ask, hope blooming in your chest.

they tilt their head to their side as they think for a moment before they grin at you. "you wanna go out with me?"

you can't help but laugh, remembering the very first time they asked you out. "more than you know," you tell them and their smile widens.

"i think i can guess." raising your joined hands, they kiss your knuckles. "c'mon, i'll walk you to your car."

nodding, you let them pull you to your feet where you stand face to face, smiling at each other like you're the only two people who exist.

it'll take time to get back the relationship you used to have but you're okay with that.

because you and alex will always find your way back to each other.

#my brand is finishing drabbles between the hours of 12 and 3 am #i dont know any other way #mm: alex #mirror mine #message received☎️#anonymous

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transfem-goddess-temple · 1 month

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Goddess, can you please bless me with the following scenario?

I’m a prince at some royal function. No one cares about me, because I’m the spare of a spare who will likely never ascend to the throne. You’re a spy from a rival kingdom looking to find a way to destabilize mine, and you’ve just found the perfect target. Phase one? Seduce me and get me so addicted to you that I beg my parents to let me marry you this night.

“Hey, how are you doing sweetie?~”

You had a hard time believing that the woman was talking to you. There were maybe a hundred girls trying to get the attention of your eldest brother, probably thirty surrounding your second brother. And a good half dozen trying to talk to your sister. You were the only royal that was alone.

You were used to it. Mixers were always like this: everyone trying to get in the good graces (or even the pants) of the heir to the throne. Some smarter people knew it would be easier to go for the second in line, and even fewer saw the smart move of going for the sole princess who would grant them an equal power with less spotlight. But everyone agreed that the smartest move was to stay away from the youngest.

It wasn’t solely related to suitors either. Royal meetings, war room talk, even family dinner; wherever you were, your voice was never wanted. Even the middle brother, who knew what it was like to be overshadowed by the throne’s heir, knew you were a landmine, and defending you from the jabs of your father, mother, and siblings was far more trouble than it was worth.

So why, after more than 20 years of shunned silence, was anyone paying attention to you. Much less one of the most beautiful women in the room. “Are you gonna answer or just stand there looking pretty?”

You snap out of your self-doubt fueled silence. “I-I’m sorry ma’am. Is there something you need?”

She giggles at you, taking a step closer with her silky legs. “No need to apologize, dear. And you don’t have to call me ma’am either. We’re just about the same age. You can call me Monet.”

You nod, trying not to blush at her kind words. “Of course, Monet. What is it that you need?”

She takes a sip of the drink in her hand and sighs. “Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh…” you sigh. “You’re looking for my brother. He’s over there.” You point to a large swarm of suitors who surrounded a barely visible crown prince.

She laughs again, and you raise an eyebrow at her. “You’re funny. So, how has your night been?”

Your eyes go wide. She was being serious. “It’s, uh, been fine. A bit lonely but that’s no problem.”

“Oh dear,” she says, placing a hand over her cleavage. “I hope I’m not interfering with a quiet evening.”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, not at all. If anything you’ve already made my night better.” You blush at what you just said. It just came out without thinking.

She smiles and gets in closer. You two are less than a foot away from each other. “My, you’re quite the charmer.” Sweat collects on your neck as the scent of her minty breath enters your nostrils.

“Hello there, my lady.” You both turn your chances to your older brother striding over. “I see you were taking the liberty of directing her my way when she asked, brother. Now off with you.” He shoos you away with his hand and turns his attention back to Monet. “Welcome to our kingdom, madame. May I ask where you are from?”

“No.” She plainly states before returning to looking at you. “Anyway, what have you been drinking tonight?”

Before you can answer, your brother clears his throat. “Sorry, there must be some confusion. I’m the crown prince. He’s my youngest brother.”

“Yes I know, now please leave us alone.” She turns back to you and smiles.

“Excuse me!” your brother exclaims. A few partygoers look over at the scene unfolding. “What is this? Some kind of joke. You,” he points at you, “you paid her off didn’t you?” He snorts. “How pathetic, bought a girlfriend because nobody wants you for yourself.”

He and the other partygoers laugh. You feel the blood boil in your veins for the first time in a while. He had ruined everything for you. If this was your only chance to have someone on your side, you weren’t going to just lay down and let yourself be pushed around. “Can’t you get it through your head that some people don’t want you around them?”

The immediate area goes silent. Your brother shoots you a look, but you barely register it. You’re more focused on the fact that Monet has grabbed you hand and squeezed it tight. You look at her and she gives you a kind, almost sultry look as she bites her lip.

“What did you say?” your brother growls at you.

“I said that it’s sad you can’t take rejection. You’re going to be king one day and yet you’re too arrogant to think of anyone but yourself.” A few of the party guests chuckle at your remarks and your brother flushes red.

He huffs and stands up straight, putting on his most regal face. “Yes, you’re right. I’m going to be king. And if I remember correctly, you’re just going to be a, what, duke?” He laughs, but fewer people laugh at his poor response.

“Yeah, but at least I won’t like the rest of my life licking dad’s boots.” The group tries to hold back laughter. If you were anyone else, this would be grounds for execution. For you, it was just another day of silence. Monet smiles and laughs, her body bouncing. You smile wide as your brother storms away.

You open your mouth to talk to Monet, but she pulls you away. You go through a door and into an empty quiet hall away from the rest of the party.

She looks at you. You scratch the back of your neck. “Sorry about that. My brother is-“

You get cut off as Monet pushes you into the wall, lips pressing against yours. She grabs your face and makes out with you. You hold her close as she consumes your breath and peppers your with hot kisses. Finally, she pulls away. “God that was hot.”

You breath heavily, hands on her waist. She takes one of your hands and guides is down to her ass. “Squeeze me.” You oblige, digging your fingers into her thick ass cheek. She moans and leans into your neck, leaving little kisses all over your collarbone. “I have a proposition, dearie.”

She works her way back up to your ear. “I’m from Kendi.” Your skin runs cold. Kendi was a rival kingdom, not as strong as yours by a mile but very vocally against your harsher policies. “I was sent here to gather information, but I got distracted by your pretty face. I think we can help each other.”

“What do you mean?” you breathe out.

“Let’s get married.” Your heart skips a beat. “That way, I can stay here and get all the information we need to take down that tyrant of a father you have. And, as a bonus, I can make sure that no harm comes to your pretty little body.”

You had to say, seeing your dad and family fall from their ivory tower sounded fun. “What do I get?” you manage to mutter out.

“Well, besides the immunity from the kingdom’s fallout and the satisfaction of being the one on top of your family, you get to be mine.” You melt into her. “I’ll take good care of you, make sure you’re happy and loved all our days. We will be married after all.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

She nips your ear and whispers “North tower, fourth floor, fifth room on the right.” You do a double take. That was the royal archives. If she knew where that was and could get in, she would have more than enough information to take down the entire kingdom.

“Well… why are you doing this? Why me?”

She pulls away and raises an eyebrow at you. “Why? Because you’re fucking cute and I want you to beg me for more as long as I live. It’s my mission, so why shouldn’t I get the best prize.”

You both stand there for a moment before you launch onto each other again, you feel like you’re on fire. The world was yours, and you weren’t going to let go of it. She draws back. “Where’s a bedroom. I need to fuck you.”

You lead her down a few halls and down to your bedchamber. Two guards stand outside. “Mika, Thomas, leave us for the night. We’ll be fine alone.” The two knights nod and walk off.

Monet smiles at you. “At least one of the royal family in this garish place knows how to be a good person.” She grabs your shoulder and pushes you inside the room.

Within seconds, you are laid on the bed. Money removes her dress and straddles you. She looks in your eyes. “Are you ready? After this you’re a traitor to your country and family.”

“Please, take me.”

She smiles and leans down to your ear. “Mmm, I like it when you beg. You know your place, don’t you?”

“Yes~”

“Then tell me. And call me ma’am again, that was hot.”

You look at her. She’s more beautiful than life itself. She was your liberation. “My place is in your bed, pleasing you. I’ll make you cum as many times as you want ma’am. I’m your prize for taking down my rotten family. I’m your prize.”

She lifts herself up and places herself above your cock. “Good boy.” She slides you into her. Your life is changed. Her pussy was heaven. You couldn’t believe such a woman would want you.

She rides your cock, grinding on you while she moans. “Fuck. I’m glad I decided to talk to you. You’ve got a good dick for me to use.” She leans forward, shoving her boobs in your face. “Suck my tits.”

“Yes ma’am.” You put her nipple in your mouth and suck at it. She moans and tightens her pussy around your dick.

“God yes. You’re mine now, understand. You listen to me and make me feel good. As a reward I’ll make your life heaven with my pussy.”

You started to imagine your life from here on out. Spending your days not wandering the halls alone, but at Monet’s side. Not wondering when the next conversation you’ll have will be, but knowing that you will be feeling good at every waking moment. Not alone, but with her. With your beautiful, dominant wife.

She keeps grinding on your dick. “This is only the beginning, baby. I’m gonna turn you into my pleasure toy and you’re going to be my sweet thing. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours. You will kneel before me and I will dote on you like a Goddess. I’ll give you all the love you deserve”

You felt your cock clench. “Oh? Did that get you excited. What was it? Kneeling to me?” Your dick clenches again. “Aww, how cute, you can kneel to me however much you want. I’ll treat you like my most loyal follower whenever you do.”

You moan on her boobs and she groans. “Oh, that’s good baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You start to pump your crotch into hers. “Yes!~ That’s it. Fuck your mistress and make her cum like a good boy toy.”

You keep thrusting into her until she starts to shake and clench her muscles. “There we go. Keep it coming. I’m gonna cum. Do it with me baby.” You feel your cock pulse as she tightens around you. She throws her head back and moans loud, her pussy clamping down and twitching erratically. You pump once more into her before unloading your jizz into her.

You both cum together, moaning and gripping each other’s bodies. When you both finally come down from your erotic ecstasy, she lays on top of you and plays with your hair. You smiled . Life was finally good, and it was only going to get better.

#elira answers #book of clemprime #goddess kink #worship kink #goddess #worship goddess #nsft roleplay #k1nk blog #domme/sub #fem domme #hard dom #fantasy nsft #nsft #send nsft asks #nsft asks

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smash-64 · 6 months

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2023 Game of the Year Countdown #1 The Legend of Heroes: Trails into Reverie Nintendo Switch, 2023

For a fourth time since 2018, a Trails game takes my #1 for the year.

Breaking from tradition, this Trails game has no sidequests. It has a very linear story, although technically there are three linear stories and you can jump from one to another for most of the game. In many respects, this is the “Trails in the Sky the 3rd” for the Cold Steel series. Not only is the story more linear, but we get redemption arcs from past villains, and we also get an absolutely disgusting amount of playable characters. Chrono Cross has 45 playable characters, and people often say that’s too many. Well…Reverie has 50. And each of them gets at least a little time in the spotlight. It’s fantastic for Trails fans, and I adored it. I put 150 hours into this game and I’m not sure I could have put less time into it.

Playing the game on Switch, there were definitely a few times the game chugged, so I can’t give the game a perfect 10. Many of the cutscenes in Crossbell City were bogged down by the sheer number of NPCs, and was noticeable to me, a person famously unconcerned with performance. I can see why people advocate for playing this on PC or PS4, but the portability of the Switch trumps all else in my mind. This is really the only downside I experienced with the game, although it did not affect my enjoyment at all.

Having three linear storylines to follow in any order you want is phenomenal. You can keep going with characters you love, and are never forced to stick with the ones you don’t for very long. And with having a linear story, the pace of the game is potentially sped up a little bit from the traditional Trails experience where sidequests can often lead to very long delays in the main story.

The story itself offers a ton. Obviously I can’t spoil a game that is the 10th in an interconnected, on-going series, but I’ll just say that once the main story is over…the postgame story is equally as interesting and gives fans a peek at some of the series-long questions and issues brought up in previous entries.

Combat is fairly standard as far as the Cold Steel games go. I love Trails combat and this game tweaks little, as nothing was broken. It’s perhaps a little bit more difficult than CS3 or CS4, since the Break mechanic was pretty OP in those two games and it has been toned down slightly, but you can still take full advantage of it if you’re smart and plan well. I also like how some of the accessories drastically increase specific stats, so min/maxing is actually fun in this game. I was able to get Tita Russell’s attack and HP to absolutely absurd heights in this game. She is no longer baby; she wants power!

As previously stated, almost every single character gets their time in the spotlight. Some more than others, of course, but the fact that we get 50 playable characters, yet every one of them gets a chance to shine is a wonderful piece of work by the developers and writers. I’d say that perhaps Musse gets very little, but she had more than enough focus in CS3 and 4. Even Machias gets his own episode, and he is so often forgotten that even I forget about him at times.

Music is good as always when it comes to Falcom. I appreciate some of the battle tunes, like Elegant Prowess, and the game has its own unique sound that sets it apart from CS3 and 4. Maybe not to the same extent that Sky the 3rd sets itself apart from FC and SC, but the tracks unique to this game sound different enough that they are easy to pick out. There are dozens of returning tracks as well, since we revisit quite a few places from previous entries.

My favorite character is Estelle Bright, and I was glad to see a focused effort to put her in the spotlight more often. She wasn’t in CS1-3, and played a more supporting role in 4 than anything else. Meanwhile, Lloyd and Rean ran the show. Estelle is not one of the main storylines in this game, but it’s nice to see her back with some of her famous one-liners.

Overall, I can’t really say enough about the game. It’s an amazing JRPG experience, but one that requires playing the 9 previous games in the series. Maybe that’s a daunting task to some, but the good thing about trying out a Trails game is that there is always another one to play afterward.

#game of the year #goty #countdown #trails innto reverie #hajimari no kiseki #falcom #nintendo #switch #nintendo switch

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ala-baguette · 6 months

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It's the most loneliest time of the year

Busy trying to finish KwtL and trying to stop myself from getting sidetracked with what has become an annual tradition of writing an angsty Christmas fic. So here's a throw-back to last year's instead. Summary: Four Christmases in which Percy Weasley was alone. And one in which he very much was not. Relationships: Percy/Audrey Rating: T | Words: 5.5k | Read it here or on AO3

Christmas, 1994

As he descended the stairs, Percy’s ears were met with a cacophony of clanking pots and pans from the kitchen. A mouth-watering aroma wafted up to meet his nostrils. Oh, dear. Mum. We talked about this. He straightened his dress robes as he brusquely took the last few steps down and turned the corner into the kitchen.

As he predicted, every flat surface was covered in food. A dozen mince pies were still left after Mum had sent off the majority of the batch to the rest of the family yesterday, and all week she had been baking biscuits and tarts and cakes. Now, dish-by-dish, Christmas dinner was making its way out of the oven. Percy’s eyes followed a plate of Yorkshire puddings as it flew across the kitchen and over to the dining table. It came to rest beside a large chicken surrounded by roast potatoes, parsnips, and Brussels. Mum pocketed her wand after conducting the Yorkshire pudding dance and turned back to resume stirring a gravy at the hob. Dad smiled at Percy as he entered, then went back to setting the table. Percy immediately took note of three place settings arranged at one end of the long wooden table. Why do they never listen to me?

“Mother,” Percy said with a sigh. “This is too much food for just you and Dad. I told you not to go overboard; I can’t stay for dinner, remember? Mr Crouch is counting on me to make sure everything is prepared at Hogwarts.”

“Well, I thought, you know… Just in case you changed your mind.” Then clearly not able to resist reopening their previous argument, Mum chided, “Surely you can have a small bite before you go.” She waved her spoon at him like a naughty child. “The Yule Ball doesn’t start until eight o’clock!”

“Yes, I know. But I want to get there early!” Percy ground out for what felt like the hundredth time. “There’s so much to prepare and so many people to organise. Someone needs to make sure everything is getting done—tables to set up and the band and the decorations. Merlin knows we can’t count on Ludo Bagman for help.”

“I’m sure the House-elves will have all that taken care of. Really, Percy.”

“There’ll be a feast at the ball, Mother!” he reminded her. “I really don’t need to eat twice. I told you this. I have to go.”

“Come now, Percy,” said Dad, passing a gravy boat to Mum to fill. “Go easy on us. This is the first time your mother and I have been alone for Christmas evening since before Bill was born! Can’t blame us for feeling a bit lonely.” Dad was smiling at him in that way Percy hated so much. That patronising smile that said he saw something Percy didn’t. Which was complete rubbish, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact!

Why couldn’t they understand that this was important! He, Percy, was Mr Crouch’s personal assistant, and this was one of his first real tests. Everything had to go smoothly tonight. Percy was representing Mr Crouch and nothing could tarnish the reputation of his boss or his department.

Or maybe Dad did understand. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was jealous that in the first six months of his career, Percy was already becoming more important at the Ministry than Dad ever would.

But Percy could hardly say such thoughts aloud.

Percy sighed irritably. The nerve Dad had to go for that guilt trip. It was hardly his fault that Ginny, Ron, and the twins had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball. Hardly his fault that Charlie had said he couldn’t justify the expense of travelling back when he’d already visited twice this year. Hardly his fault that they had uncovered some big new tomb in Egypt, and Bill had needed to cancel his trip home to work on breaking down the curses protecting it. Why did everything always fall to Percy? Why was it always his job to keep this family together?

But Mum and Dad were both looking at him expectantly. And he had to admit that it was rather sad to see them standing there with so many empty chairs around the dining table. And the Yorkshire pudding did admittedly smell divine.

Percy reached up and smoothed back his hair. “Ten minutes,” he said in compromise at last. Honestly, it was really quite magnanimous of him, Percy thought. “One piece of chicken. One Yorkshire. A little gravy. Then I have to go.”

Mum beamed and rushed to kiss him on the cheek. Dad smiled approvingly. Percy took his seat, and Mum began piling far more than just one piece of chicken, one Yorkshire, and a little gravy onto his plate. Percy swallowed his complaint. None of them would ever truly appreciate how much he did for this family.

Christmas, 1995

His flat was tiny. One room. That was it. He’d managed to squeeze a bed in one corner awkwardly butted up against the kitchenette. A desk that doubled as a dining table sat opposite. Percy suspected the bathroom had once been a cupboard before the crumbling walk-up had been repurposed into ‘chique industrial’ flats. Hermes had adopted the top of the bookcase as his perch, nestling himself into the hollow between some exposed piping. He was currently shredding a newspaper for recreation, a repetitive shhhrup echoing in the quiet of the room.

Outside was anything but quiet. The honking of Muggle cars and the rumbling of busses and the yelling of merchants was a constant roar outside the single pane window. But the constancy made it easy enough to ignore.

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose as he scratched out a line on the parchment at his desk. He scribbled a correction in the margin, then read it through again. Shhhrup. He glanced up at Hermes and let out an irritated breath. Then went back to his work.

Yes, it was Christmas. Yes, he could have taken the day off. But he really wanted to finish this report for the office. As Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, it was, after all, his job to stay on top of these things. The Minister was counting on him to keep his administration running smoothly. With all the wild rumours and accusations the Ministry had to contend with lately… Well, it was all keeping Percy very busy, and he didn’t want to fall any further behind. He definitely didn’t need any more distractions.

Against his better judgment, Percy’s eyes strayed from the document he was working on to a letter lying crumpled on the far corner of the desk. He could still make out the closing line from where it lay:

Love from your brother, Bill

Percy felt his lip pull up in a sneer. Love. How could any of them claim ‘love’ for him. They had turned their back on him—the whole family had. Turned their back on Percy. Turned their back on the Ministry. Turned their back on their country! They had gone off to join some foolish rebellion, and Percy had been left behind as the sole voice of reason.

‘Rebellion’ was the word Percy used when he was feeling generous. ‘Treason’ was perhaps the more accurate word.

Percy had spent the last six months distancing himself from his family. It was just a matter of time before Dumbledore and Potter and everyone associated with them was brought down, and Percy would have nothing to do with it!

But now Bill had the nerve to write to him of father’s injuries. To encourage him to visit Dad at St Mungo’s and ‘mend fences’. To say that surely Percy should be ‘able to see how important family is in times like these’.

How dare he lecture him? When his father had literally been caught dangerously wounded in the Ministry with some utterly codswollop cover-story about an escaped beast that had been previously confiscated by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? How thick did they think the Ministry was? Did they really think that the Ministry didn’t know that Dad had been up to something shady for Dumbledore? Just because they couldn’t prove it, didn’t mean they didn’t know.

And Percy was just supposed to forgive and forget, just because Dad was injured? Shouldn’t it mean the opposite? Shouldn’t something like this be a wake-up call to his family that they had no place getting mixed up in Dumbledore’s insurrection? Shouldn’t they be the ones coming to him to tell him how wrong they’d been? To ‘mend fences,’ as Bill had put it?

Shhhrup.

Percy dropped his quill to the desk and a splotch of ink marred his report for the office. “Do you mind?” he growled at Hermes. “I’m trying to work here.”

Hermes met his gaze. The owl cocked his head, blinked once at Percy, then his talons gripped another strip of newspaper deliberately. Shhhrup.

A growl escaped Percy’s chest. “You know what? Here. If you’re going to do that, why not shred something worth shredding.” His fist crumpled around Bill’s letter, and he chucked it up on top of the bookcase. Hermes hopped to dodge the projectile and ruffled his feathers indignantly.

Percy opened his mouth to say something more, but he was cut off by a tap tap tap on the window. He spun around. Then was immediately annoyed with himself at the burst of hope and joy he’d felt at the sound. He paused for a moment, staring at the dark shape on the window ledge outside the glass. With a sharp release of his breath, he marched over and wrenched the window open.

Errol tumbled in and onto the desk. The ancient owl was gasping for breath, slumped against the lumpy parcel he’d been carrying. Percy merely stood there and stared down at him. A concerned trill came from atop the bookcase.

Percy’s face felt stony as he stared at Errol for a moment. Then his gaze flitted to the brown paper-wrapped package. It was lumpy and soft, and Percy had no doubts as to what it contained. He knew without looking that it would be mustard yellow, because it always was. Knew there would be not a single dropped stitch. Knew how it would feel, how it would smell. He looked back to the owl.

“What are you doing here?” Errol blinked open tired eyes to look at him questioningly. “I told her I don’t want anything to do with any of them.” But Percy’s fingers twitched as a traitorous part of his heart longed to tear open the paper and run his hands across the thick soft wool. Longed to breathe in the scent of his mother, of his home. The urge only served to make him angrier.

“Take it back.” Hermes let out a warning hiss from atop the bookcase, but Percy ignored him. “Take it back this instant,” he snapped at Errol. Errol looked up at Hermes as though begging for help. The old owl was still slumped and panting and looking utterly exhausted.

Hermes fluttered down to land next to Errol and glowered up at Percy. “What? It’s not my fault they sent him on a long flight to carry a package they knew I didn’t want!” he snapped at Hermes. Then he turned back to Errol who had still made no move to leave. “Well? What are you still doing here? Go on. Get out of here! And take this with you. Go!” Hermes snapped his beak angrily at Percy, then turned to nuzzle encouragingly at Errol. Grasping the parcel in his own talons and nudging Errol toward the window, Hermes spared Percy one last disgusted look before he spread his wings and took flight with the package in tow. Errol followed tiredly after.

“Fine. Side with them. See if I care,” he called out the window after Hermes. But Percy stood at the open window for a long time after watching them disappear into the night.

The breeze coming through the window was bitingly cold, but he barely felt it. He stared after the two owls long lost to the darkness. Dimly he registered that they were flying northeast, which was not the direction of the Burrow, but he refused to allow himself to wonder why. It didn’t matter. Whatever his family was up to, it was none of his concern. They had made that quite clear. They had chosen their side. And so had he.

Slamming the window shut, he turned and marched into the kitchenette. He bent to retrieve his dinner from the larder, kicking the cupboard door shut after. He banged the dinner down on the counter and glared down at the packaging.

Mrs Misley’s Magical Meals for One TURKEY ROAST *Tap your wand here and enjoy a warm delicious meal in seconds!

Percy proceeded to prod it so hard with his wand, the packaging ignited. “Aguamenti!” he yelped, smothering the flames in water. He let out a long sigh as what appeared to be half frozen turkey soup leaked from the charred packaging. Cursing under his breath, he scooped the sodden cardboard and some mush that he suspected was supposed to be mashed potatoes into the rubbish bin. He returned to his desk to finish his report.

Christmas, 1996

“Weasley. We’re going,” the Minister snapped through the open kitchen door. Potter had just swept in from the garden and was returning to his seat at the table with the attitude of a petulant child. Scrimgeour was clearly in no better mood; he had not even bothered to come in to say goodbye to the family. The pretence was done with, then. Thank God. Just in time. Because Percy couldn’t have stood a single minute more of it.

Percy stormed through the back door and slammed it behind him, cutting off his mother’s cry of “Percy, wait!” He followed Scrimgeour across the garden, the frozen earth crunching angrily under his feet. Not slowing his speed, he removed his glasses and shook them hard to dislodge the bits of mashed parsnip splattered across them. He brushed another chunk from his hair impatiently before redonning his specs.

Ahead of him, the Minister was walking faster than Percy would have thought possible with his bad leg and walking stick. He seemed as eager to be gone as Percy. Things had clearly not gone well with Potter. So it had all been for nothing. Can’t you see they’re using you, Percy?

Percy wanted to hit something. Fury was bubbling in his chest. All of this had been to give the Minister an in with Harry Potter. And Percy had gone along with it. He’d swallowed his pride and gone along with it because it was his duty. Because he had trusted that it was in the best interest of the Ministry of Magic. But it had all been for nothing. Potter was the most stubborn, pig-headed—

“Dumbledore’s man, through-and-through,” Scrimgeour grumbled under his breath followed by a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. He shook his head and kept walking, pushing his way through the garden gate.

They were all stubborn. The whole family was being utterly infuriating. Why they couldn’t recognise their duty to ally with the Ministry… Why they insisted on sticking to Dumbledore’s secretive agenda when clearly, they were all on the same side… Percy just could not understand them. None of them.

And yet… Percy had walked into the kitchen a little bit ago. And he’d smelled the turkey and stuffing. And he could see the tree covered in fairy lights and Ginny’s paperchains hanging from the rafters in the next room. And he had seen Mum’s famous Christmas pudding waiting on the counter for dessert. And he had seen everybody wearing their Weasley jumpers. And he’d felt Mum hug him, felt her tears on his shoulder, smelled her lemon soap and bergamot scent. And, just for a fraction of a moment, he had felt like a small child coming down to Christmas dinner. And he’d had to avert his eyes to keep from wanting it. Missing it.

Of course the row that started the minute Potter and Scrimgeour had left the room had been very quick to cure him of those thoughts. Barely had the Minister and Potter left the room before Dad had accosted Percy, demanding to know what Scrimgeour wanted with Potter. Dad’s voice was still ringing in his ears. We’re not fools Percy, and neither are you! Surely you can see what’s happening here. Surely you can see that he’s just trying to get to Harry. Can’t you see they’re using you, Percy? Percy felt his teeth grinding together. What did Dad know of duty.

Percy followed Scrimgeour through the gate and swung it shut behind him. The click of the latch echoed in the quiet stillness of the country lane leading into Ottery St. Catchpole. He looked to Scrimgeour who was now stationary, staring out across the frosted hills and shaking his head with a sour look on his face. Percy shoved his hands in the pockets of his cloak and waited. Waited for the Minister to declare the next move. Waited for his next instruction. Waited to do his duty to the Ministry of Magic.

But the Minister merely stood there.

It was a full minute later before Scrimgeour seemed to abruptly remember that Percy was there. He glanced over and looked Percy up and down for brief moment. He didn’t particularly seem to like what he saw. “See you at the office,” the Minister growled. And without so much as a ‘Happy Christmas’, he Disapparated with a pop.

Percy stood on the deserted lane for a long while. It had grown dark and the cold bit through his cloak. He glanced back toward the Burrow. He could just make out the brightly lit kitchen window through the snow-laden vegetation. The shadows of people moved within the square of warm yellow light. Then he turned to stare down the road toward the spot where Scrimgeour’s footprints in the snow disappeared. Beyond stretched a colourless landscape of snowy hills, pastures bordered by low stone walls and scrubby hedges. Wind ruffled his hair and tugged at his cloak.

Percy spared one last glance toward the Burrow before he too Disapparated.

Christmas, 1997

The rumble of the Muggle street below was the only sound as Percy sat with his elbows propped on his desk, his hands clasped together. Even Hermes was quiet tonight. The owl was staring at the window as though expecting something.

Percy too glanced to the window. But there was nothing there. Just as there had been nothing there the last time he’d checked.

The night stretched on, and still nothing came. No owl. No letter. No soft lumpy package.

Had Mum finally given up on Percy and not made him a jumper this year? Had something happened to Errol? Had something happened to his parents? Would he even hear about it if it had?

Percy reached up to pull off his glasses. There was a clatter as he dropped them next to his rapidly cooling and hardly touched tray of Mrs Misley’s Magical Meals for One.

And he buried his face in his hands and wept.

Christmas, 1998

We are so late. The bathroom door was shamelessly open. Percy had a clear line of sight from where he sat on the foot of the bed. He chewed a thumb nail as he watched her getting ready, his knee bouncing up and down restlessly. She kept saying she was almost ready, but her sparkling emerald green dress was still spread on the bed next to him awaiting its wearer more patiently than was Percy.

He cocked his head as Audrey leaned across the bathroom vanity to check her lipstick in the mirror. It gave Percy a rather pleasant view of her backside, clad only in knickers and sheer stockings. Her eyes caught his in the reflection and she winked, a small smile curving up her newly red painted lips. Percy thought she looked rather smug as she turned her attention to her hair.

“You look great. You don’t have to put so much effort in. They’re going to love you,” he assured her.

“I know,” she replied, turning around to look at him directly as she ran her brush through straight dark hair. “Everybody loves me. I just feel like looking pretty.”

“I’m just saying, no one else is going to be particularly dressed up. We’re not really that kind of family.”

“Sometimes, I want to dress up for me, you know?” She laid the brush down on the vanity and gave her reflection one final look over. “It’s not always about dressing up for other people.” She smiled at herself, then marched into the bedroom and picked up the dress, stepping into the skirts.

Percy chewed his lip as he watched her. “Okay. I’m just saying that if you didn’t want—”

“Oh, my God!” Audrey straightened, and she turned to look at him as though she’d just realised something. There was a moment’s pause as she studied him, the dress bunched around her hips as though she’d quite forgotten what she was doing. Percy tried not to stare at her lace-clad breasts.

“What?” Percy asked, startled by her sudden outburst.

Audrey didn’t speak for a moment. She shimmied her arms into the sleeves, eyeing him with a sudden frown on her face as she did so. Still with her eyes on him, she reached around to zip up the back. Percy made to stand to help her, but she just shook her head and did it herself, arching her back to reach the top. But never once did her eyes stray from his face. “You’re nervous!” she accused him.

“What? I’m not—”

“You are! You’re completely terrified! You think they’re going to hate me!”

“I don’t think they’re going to hate you.” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Yes, you do! You’ve been dragging your feet about introducing me to your parents for weeks! You don’t think I’m going to fit in with your family!”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what?” she demanded, but she had a teasing smile on her red lips.

“They’re going to love you,” he said weakly.

“You said that already,” Audrey insisted. She was refusing to let him off the hook. “Fess up. You’re ashamed of me.” Her broad grin acknowledged that no man in his right mind could ever be ashamed of her and she knew it.

“You’re going to fit in great with my family,” Percy assured her, shifting uncomfortably. He found his gaze traveling to his shoes. “You’re… you’re going to fit in better than I do,” he added in a mumble.

He glanced up at her just in time to see her teasing smile faulter. “Percy…” she said gently.

Percy looked away again, leaning his elbows on his knees. He felt the bed beside him sag as she sat next to him and felt her eyes on the back of his neck. Then a gentle hand he didn’t deserve caressed the hair back from his forehead.

“It’s not you I’m ashamed of,” he managed softly. “It’s me.” She was so quiet, he had to turn to see if her face would show what she thought of that. But she was merely gazing at him sombrely, her expression inviting him to go on. “You’ve only ever seen me at work or among friends. But my family…” Percy bit his lip and stared at the ceiling as he tried to consider the words. “I’ve done terrible things. Said terrible things. I turned my back on them. For three years, I did everything I could to distance myself from them. But if I had just done what I should… Maybe I could have helped… Maybe I could have stopped… Maybe he’d…” Maybe he’d still be alive. But Percy couldn’t say those words aloud. Not even to Audrey. Especially not to Audrey.

“Anyway. Family gatherings… They can be… hard. Everybody pretending like none of it ever happened.”

Audrey took a moment before she answered. “Has it occurred to you,” she said at last. “That maybe they’re not pretending? That maybe they’ve just moved on? Forgiven you? And that maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

Percy glanced at her, and she was gazing at him. He saw no doubt in her eyes. She merely seemed as though she were waiting for him to cotton onto something that was terribly obvious to her.

“How could they possibly forgive me for something like that?” he asked her. And he looked into her eyes, desperate for them to hold an answer to a question he had asked himself a hundred thousand times, but never uttered aloud before this moment.

Audrey just smiled as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because they love you, you tosser.”

Percy felt a huff of disbelief escape his chest, and he turned away, shaking his head. “You don’t even know them.”

“I don’t have to. I know that you love them. And I know that I love you. And I have excellent taste, so obviously they agree with me.”

He looked at her sidelong. And the grin on her face was enough to break through the gloom. He laughed in spite of himself. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek in his hand and her smile shifted from mischievous to affectionate. They simply gazed at each other for a long moment, smiling like idiots.

“I love you too,” Percy said at last.

“Well, good,” Audrey shrugged. “Because it would be really inconvenient if I loved you and you didn’t love me ba—”

But Percy cut off whatever wisecrack she might have had in store for him next by pulling her face close and kissing her hard on the mouth. He felt her grin against his mouth before submitting, and her lips softened against his.

Percy had kissed her a thousand times and would kiss her a thousand times again, and still he would not have gotten over the thrill at feeling her lips against his. The way they always moved and parted in time with his as though to a well-choreographed dance he couldn’t remember learning. The way they made his heart pound and his stomach clench. The way they made him feel like the most important man in the world and the humblest, all at the same time.

Loosing himself in the feeling, Percy buried his hands in her silky hair and felt hers running up his back. He deepened the kiss contentedly, but she pulled back slightly, and he felt rather than saw her smile. “I thought you said we were going to be late,” she whispered against his lips. “I know how you hate being late.”

Percy groaned. He did hate being late. Audrey laughed softly, pecking him lightly on the lips before pulling back fully. They allowed themselves one moment more to simply look into the other’s eyes. Audrey’s gaze darted down to his lips and a funny smile tugged at her cheek. Percy thought she was considering kissing him again, but she stood up determinedly. “Give me a minute to fix the damage you’ve done to my hair and makeup. Then we can go.”

Percy threw his head back and drew in a deep steadying breath as she disappeared into the bathroom again.

They arrived at the garden gate to the Burrow hand-in-hand. Percy felt Audrey give his hand a gentle squeeze before they walked up the garden path. The door was flung open before they could knock.

“Oh, Percy, thank goodness!” Mum flung herself on him, hugging him tightly there on the front stoop. “I was getting worried! You’re never late.” She pulled back and looked him over as though assuring herself that he was alive and whole.

“Sorry, Mum—” Percy began. But before he could get another word out, she caught sight of Audrey standing just behind him.

“Oh, and you must be Audrey! At last! We’ve been telling Percy to bring you for weeks and weeks!” Percy found himself pushed aside as she dove to hug Audrey. But somehow he didn’t mind one bit. Audrey smiled at him from over Mum’s shoulder.

“Oh, you’re so pretty!” Mum said, patting her own hair back as she took Audrey in up and down. “Come in! It’s freezing out here! I’ve knitted you a jumper. I so hope it fits; Percy wasn’t much help when I asked your size.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Audrey laughed, shooting Percy a mischievous grin. “Men are so useless at that sort of thing, aren’t they?” The pair of women walked into the house arm-in-arm in happy excited conversation as though they’d known each other for years, and Percy followed behind.

There was a rush of movement and sound through the crowded kitchen as they entered. Calls of ‘Hello’ and ‘Happy Christmas’ echoed in the cramped space. Percy found himself separated from Audrey as Dad came up to hug him and Charlie slapped him on the back and George poured him a drink.

His head felt like it was floating in all the noise and conversation. Before he could respond to one person, another was greeting him. Percy craned his head to check in on how Audrey was getting on; he saw her shaking hands with Harry and, to her credit, she did not appear painfully starstruck like most people were when meeting him.

Drinks and half-eaten appetisers were claiming spots at the table, but few people were seated yet. Percy couldn’t help it as his gaze travelled to a particular empty chair at the table. He was sure it wasn’t empty by coincidence. No one wanted to sit in that particular spot.

“Hey! Looking good, Audrey!” called Bill across the room, cutting into an unpleasant reverie. Percy turned back to look over to Audrey himself. She had slipped on her first of what was sure to be many Weasley jumpers and was grinning at him from across the room. The lumpy olive-green wool far from complimented her sparkly emerald dress, but she wore it with so much confidence, the runway models were sure to be adopting the style by next season. A small cheer went up around the room and Audrey’s grin widened. “Percy, dear! Come and get yours,” Mum called, and Percy picked his way through the throng to them. As Mum turned to collect another jumper from under the tree, Percy felt his arm wrap around Audrey’s waist. She squeezed him back.

As he’d known it would be, the soft wool was a mustard yellow. As he’d known it would, it had not a single dropped stitch. As he’d known it would, it smelled of lemon soap and bergamot. “Thanks, Mum,” he said softly, kissing her on the cheek.

“Alright, come along, all of you!” said Mum, waving him off, though she had a touch of a blush on her cheeks. She began shepherding them all toward the dining table. “It’s dinner time!” she called to the room at large. Another cheer and some laughter as the group migrated toward the table.

Percy followed suit, but he paused to look around the room. For a moment, he just stood there, clutching his Weasley jumper to his chest. He looked around the table as his family took their seats, all chatting amongst themselves, all laughing and smiling and relaxed. Their faces were brightly lit by the candles on the dining table. And before them was a spread of all of his favourite foods. And Ginny’s paperchains were hanging artfully from the rafters. And the fire was crackling merrily. And everything was perfect.

And yet everything was wrong.

Percy felt his feet faulter. They seemed unable to make the final few steps to the table. His breath was coming fast and shallow. He felt as though he were caught midway through Apparition. As though a tight rubber band was compressing his chest. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in this warm and loving house, surrounded by warm and loving people. He didn’t deserve it. How could it be that he was here and someone else was not. When it had been Percy who had had squandered their last chance to ever again have them all together in this room.

“Er, Perce,” said George as he pulled out a chair across from him. Percy blinked several times as he tried to clear his head enough to really take him in. George gestured to his lips. “Trying out a new shade? I think red clashes with your hair a bit.”

Percy merely continued to blinked at him bemusedly for a moment. Then he felt heat flood to his face, and his hand shot up to scrub at his lips. Several snickers sounded around the table. He glanced apologetically to Audrey only to find her grinning at him in a way that reminded him uncannily of Fred. He sighed. His glare was made rather less effective by the traitorous smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t tell me on purpose.”

Audrey shrugged. “I thought the shade suited you quite well.”

The kitchen was filled with laughter and the screeching of chairs on the floor as everybody took their seats. George was still sniggering and Dad was smiling fondly at him and Mum was piling food onto his plate and Audrey was beaming at him. As fast as it had come, the rubber band around his chest was gone. When he at last sat down, he felt he was exactly where he belonged.

And when Audrey sat herself in the empty seat beside him— the one seat everyone had been avoiding— no one seemed to mind at all.

Least of all Percy.

#harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #canon compliant #percy weasley #weasley family #percy/ audrey #christmas fic #christmas #angst #character arc #family

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fangweaver2099 · 1 day

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A Minor Slip-Up - Chapter 1

Miguel O'Hara X Reader 18+

You've been working for Dr. Miguel O'Hara in Alchemax' R&D department for 2 years. For those two years, your crush on the gigantic, handsome man that just happens to be your superior has only gotten worse with time.

When you notice him alone at Alchemax' Christmas Gala, you take your chance. A one night stand.

You two agree it was just once, but it seems life has other plans.

This fic takes place in an alternate canon of the Spiderman 2099 comics. While the entire plot uses the lore of the 2099 comics, the aesthetic of Nueva York is based on Across the Spiderverse.

Miguel is based also on his ATSV character in personality and appearance & his tech. He's a bit more of an asshole and less traumatized tho.

He has not discovered portal technology and is technically not the ATSV Miguel we see in the movie – but a variant. While I use his backstory up to before Dana and him go to Valhalla is pretty similar - instead of being constant crazy stuff it cuts off there. The comic backstory ends and diverges with a much slower plot where Miguel has to grapple with being Spiderman and occasionally handling crazy stuff and trying to stop Alchemax. Also, he has ATSV Lyla bc she’s objectively the funnier version.

It was totally normal to have a crush as a grown woman, right ?

That’s what you had tried to convince yourself of anyway. Dr. Miguel O’Hara was technically your boss. You were a senior in your position, but he was the lead scientist – you submitted reports and updates to him and followed his instruction and advice. Any project had his name first, regardless of how much work he actually did.

Dr. O’Hara was attractive. There was no way the towering, chiseled man built like a Greek god didn’t know he was drop dead gorgeous . Tall, smart – handsome. The only downside was his personality had gone from a slightly egotistical lead who treated everyone like they were stupid, to barely talking to anyone, and brooding in his office. He seemed almost… depressed .

You had chalked it up to the explosion that happened in Miguel’s personal lab almost 5 months ago. Apparently, a late-night experiment had gone wrong. The accident had killed Mr. Delgato and Miguel was apparently there when he died. You couldn’t imagine how traumatic it was. So, you were quick to give your boss some serious slack.

You didn’t know Miguel that well anyway; he was your boss – personal life was not exactly something folks discussed over petri dishes. It’s not like he spent any time in the break room on the main R&D floor. He usually didn’t spend time in any break room, really.

Right now, the massive Miguel O’Hara was at the head of the table his team usually had lunch at. He looked like he was nursing a hangover and holding a coffee cup that was too little for his gigantic, tanned hands. His shirt was too tight, and it put emphasis on his massive shoulders and broad chest.

You were doing everything you could not to stare.

You knew the dress code well, no wearing your hair down in the lab, so your neck was still chilly and ears pink. You felt like you were freezing even in your thick turtleneck sweater, dark slacks and company-issued lab coat. The massive glass windows of the break room did little to stave off the December cold in Nueva York. The entire room was bustling with a few dozen scientists and other employees, but your team always hung out together. It was nice that you all actually liked one another.

You made your coffee sweet, more cream than coffee, eyes on the approaching Dr. Amara Monroe. The bubbly blonde with bright green eyes had to crane her head back to look at you – but it didn’t stop the both of you from becoming good friends over the past two years.

Dr. Monroe had her hands on a plastic box – likely some sort of food container that had long been cleaned. She sat it down before her seat, one hand on the rim.

“Okay. Write your name on the slip, and then put it in the jar.” Dr. Monroe’s other hand motioned to the scattering of cut-up printer paper on the table.

Apparently, it was an old tradition from the early 2000’s – Secret Santa. Dr. Monroe explained it as a bonding experiment, her family had been doing it as long as she remembered. It seemed that the woman was intent on continuing it in her workplace. You couldn’t help but grin, the idea exciting you, reaching over to grab a piece of paper. It meant you didn’t buy gifts for everyone, and even with your excessive budget, it was a relief on your wallet.

“So, what if you get someone you don’t know?” Dr. Kline asked, one red brow raising. The ginger woman took a piece of paper anyway as Dr. Monroe passed her a pencil.

“That’s the fun part, you get to bother them and figure out what they like – but you can’t reveal you’re the one buying them their gift. Ask around! Plus, we’re all like…” She moved her hand in a waving motion. “Nerds.”

At that, a few of their coworkers snickered. You noticed even Miguel smiled a touch, rare. You forced yourself to peel your eyes away with a long sip of your coffee and reached over, picking up a piece of paper.

“It sounds fun, any other rules?” you asked as Dr. Kline passed the pencil over to Dr. Schneider. The tall blonde male scribbled his name in his nigh unreadable writing. You plucked the pen from his hand and wrote your own name down in the neatest handwriting you could muster, folding it with a flourish and using your finger to press down the seal.

“Hmmm… No gag gifts. My family usually does a price limit too - how does 30 sound?,” Dr. Monroe mused, tapping a finger to her freckled face.

You could hear a murmur in agreement from everyone as you returned to sipping on your coffee, letting the blonde scientist pick up your paper and toss it in the jug.

Miguel didn’t make a move, sitting back and watching, like he usually did during the company mandated lunch break, as everyone wrote their names. You quickly concluded that Miguel had no plans on participating, there was a little piece of you that was disappointed. He deserved to feel included, big grouch he may be.

It seemed Dr. Monroe noticed, her green eyes narrowed as she motioned the jug over the table, sticking it in Miguel’s face. He leaned back, looking at the small woman over his dark sunglasses.

“I’m not interested.” His smooth voice replied, raising one hand, telling her to back off.

“You’re our boss, you gotta.” Dr. Monroe retorted, too sweet for her own good. The woman was no pushover. A few voices spoke up in agreement. Miguel visibly simmered, slouching more in his chair as his massive hand pushed the box away. Amara frowned but Miguel placed down his own coffee, picking up the pen and writing his name, the script hurried and scribbled.

“Thank yooou-“ She took the paper from Dr. O’Hara before he could stop her, tossing it into the box. She plugged the hole with one of her hands before shaking it vigorously. Watching the tiny blonde woman bouncing the box around like it owed her money made you break out into a smile, hiding your snicker behind the mug you clutched in your cold hands.

Despite the seriousness of your job and Alchemax as a whole (along with your scrooge of a boss), you adored your direct team, they were all nice and reasonably friendly. Your team was one of the more accomplished teams in R&D – at least, as far as the reports your boss provided showed.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. You took your job rather seriously – your last review had you noted as ‘careful and meticulous’.

You could hear a small, casual discussion going on as the team began discussing interests. Apparently, Dr. Yoshida loved something called Warhammer – Dr. Kline was a chronic chocolate addict and Dr. Monroe collected vintage stuffed animals from the 2030’s. It was a good bonding exercise, but you couldn’t exactly reflect on what you wanted.

You were not about to explain your weird love of horror, or your pile of shitty romance books downloaded on your holopad, a dirty secret you would take to the grave if it were up to you. You preferred being the awkward workaholic type anyways, instead of the dreamy weirdo you were in college.

Your eyes drifted to Miguel.

Maybe you’d get lucky and get him – figure out something he’d like and put a smile on his stupid handsome face. You didn’t notice Miguel’s head turn to you quick enough, your gazes meeting, the hints of his hooded eyes under his sunglasses had you move to down your coffee like nothing had happened.

Miguel’s brow raised, but he said nothing as you turned to Dr. Yoshida.

“So – what about you? Worst gift you’ve ever gotten,” Dr. Yoshida asked, his dark eyes narrowing as he turned to face you.

“Uhhh…” You had to think about it.

“Do my student loans count?,” you attempted to quip, forcing a smile. Dr. Yoshida laughed.

Dr. Monroe paused her container’s torture as she placed it on the middle of the table.

“Okay. Pick one. You get yourself – toss it back and take another. Got it?,” she said, moving to pluck one of the strips and unfolding it. Amara grinned deviously before shoving it into the pocket of her lab coat.

You waited until about halfway through, forced to lean across the table. You weren’t often thankful for your height – nearing six feet was often a pain - but now it had its advantage. You plucked a slip from the bowl without ease, and then sat back down with a small ‘oof’.

Your fingers made quick work of unfolding the paper.

‘Hiro’ was written in clear handwriting – Dr. Yoshida. Okay, that made it easy. You’d search up what the hell Warhammer was later, maybe a new tie or something. You glanced over at Dr. Yoshida; he always wore a dark blue tie with some sort of geometric pattern on it. Didn’t matter the color of his shirt. Sometimes it was fine, but he was wearing a deep mossy green recently. It looked awful.

You noticed Miguel’s hand dip into the jug, before flipping open the paper without…any reaction. He didn’t sit back down.

“I’m heading back.” He said without hesitation, mug still in hand as he strode away, leaving his team alone. You wondered who Miguel got – did he get you ? Your cheeks burned as you realized how pathetic you were being, and you had to resist the urge to slap your cheeks to wake yourself up.

The rest of lunch went just fine – small discussion as you and Dr. Monroe discussed your current round of tests. You always got assigned the boring work – and now it was antibiotic creation for a new disease affecting what was left of the cattle population across the US. Printer meat was already commonplace for most of the population, but it didn’t stop those wealthy enough to want something real. So, you got to figure out how to keep the animals alive.

When you had just graduated college, bright eyed and stupid, you had thought you’d be doing important things like curing cancer. Alchemax had other plans.

Lab work after lunch was the same as ever- boring and filled mostly with reviewing code and notes. The amount of calibrating that every machine needed was practically mind numbing. Still, you were thankful for the busy work.

You headed back to your own office at the end of the day. The room was clean and organized as your lab bench. A few personal touches just like your apartment – a rose gold pen caddy that had your pens organized by color, a gray cushion on your chair to make it more comfortable. Nothing too casual, nothing too personal, all workplace appropriate.

You shrugged your lab coat off and packed your bag with your laptop. You gave into the chill and even let your hair out of its messy bun. Your fingers raked through your locks and fluffed it free. You tossed on your gray jacket and put your bag across your shoulders.

You tossed on your pink scarf and seemed prepared enough to brace the open-air parking garage. You tapped the frosted glass of your private office door as it slid open and closed behind you, lights shutting off with no one within. Your expensive non-slip shoes were silent as you made your way to the open hall of your floor.

And there, looming before the elevator, was that massive figure. Miguel.

He wasn’t in his usual white lab coat, replaced with a dark, long overcoat. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed to be leaning over slightly, putting emphasis on his broad shoulders and small waist. Awfully, you were reminded of one of the junior scientists calling him a Dorito. You tried not to crack a smile at the memory, walking forward as you attempted to calm your own expression.

You tried to keep your distance, moving to check if the button was pressed as the counters pinged down. Miguel seemed to notice your presence, glancing down at you from behind his sunglasses. You met his gaze for a moment from the corner of your eye and swore his eyes looked… red? It was probably just the light.

You glanced away and shifted in place, suddenly all too cognizant of the silence.

You could keep quiet and say nothing, but you should make small talk, right? Be normal .You’d been in this type of situation before, this wasn’t alien. You could feel the warmth on your cheeks. As you opened your mouth to speak, the elevator dinged and saved you from further embarrassment.

You both entered together, taking your places on opposite sides of the small elevator. You were both tall and now you could see why Miguel leaned just a bit – if he was standing straight, he might have hit his head on the elevator door.

He was standing straight now, having almost a foot over your own height.

You were not used to people being larger than you, especially most men. At the most they were eye level. Before you’d met Miguel, you couldn’t understand why some of your college friends found men intimidating.

But Miguel was intimidating.

For the first time, you felt small . His hands were massive. He was massive . He made you feel all too cognizant of what it meant to feel like prey. Like he was strong enough to snap your neck if he was angry enough – not that you’d ever thought he would. He could probably pick you up – the primal desire to be manhandled had you shift in place, trying to ignore your own thoughts. He was your boss for God’s sake.

Miguel beat you to pressing the same button – floor ten’s light flicked on as the door closed. You did your best to take a step back and look anywhere but Miguel.

You were sure that Miguel was cognizant of the effect he had on women. You’d heard people jokingly call him ‘tall, dark and handsome’ more than once, though he always seemed too caught up in his work to notice the looks he got.

It was a harmless crush, Miguel had never as much as reciprocated anything. He was so serious , especially in the last few months. You would have thought that after working under Dr. O’Hara for nearly two years, that you’d get over it, but it got worse whenever the two of you were forced into proximity.

You had nearly 40 floors before the parking garage. You cleared your throat – anything was better than pings as you descended.

“Have you ever done a secret Santa?,” you asked Miguel, head tilting to look up at the massive geneticist.

“No,” he replied, tone blank, not sparing you even a glance. You leaned against the wall of the elevator, biting your cheek.

“Me neither. I think it’s fun. I already know what I’m going to get mine.” You’d tried to sound relaxed, but the inclination of your voice came out nervous.

Miguel raised a brow at you.

“I’m not telling,” you replied, guessing at the wordless question. Miguel crossed his arms; head still pointed in your direction.

“I-It would spoil the surprise. I- wait. I didn’t get – I didn’t get you! I-” Your hands pulled from your pockets and motioned in the air.

“I figured,” Miguel interrupted with the ghost of a grin. You went quiet before letting out a long sigh.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” Your voice was back to calm. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, you could feel the warmth on your cheeks as you scolded yourself, stop being pathetic – you’re a grown woman. You’re a fucking doctor . You’re-

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbled as the elevator finally stopped and clicked open. You didn’t wait as you were greeted by cold winter air.

You practically ran out of the elevator.

Desperate to get away, you didn’t notice when your foot met ice – melted snow had turned to ice in the garage. You let out a surprised shriek as the concrete ceiling came into view.

Rather than cracking your head open on the concrete like an idiot , you felt hands grab at your armpit and waist, and the back of your head hit something warm and hard as you scrambled for purchase.

“You need to be more careful, chica.” Miguel’s deep voice broke your stuttering train of thought as you relaxed into his grip. Your knees pulled in as you finally stopped stumbling, head lifted back as you saw Miguel staring down at you – smirking .

“ Uh-huh ,” you replied dumbly, eyes wide and a single curl falling across your gentle features. He hoisted you back onto your feet proper and let go. Awkwardly, you swayed and patted your coat.

“T-thanks. I thought I was going to crack my head open.” you remarked with a nervous grin.

“I’d hate that. You’re a good member of the team, doctor. I don’t think I’m too good at making that clear,” Miguel remarked with a sincerity in his voice that had your eyes widening in confusion.

“…Thanks. You’re a good lead. Better than my previous boss. He didn’t like me very much. First job and all that.” You reached out and awkwardly patted Miguel’s arm. Miguel glanced down and raised a brow.

You pulled back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t forget about the compiled review you and Dr. Monroe are supposed to finish tomorrow.” He kept the conversation casual and work focused.

You were thankful for that.

“Will do, boss.” You grinned, hands crossing over yourself as you ignored the heat on your cheeks. It was cold enough that you both could see your breath. You hoped Miguel didn’t notice the way your face burned.

After a moment Miguel waved and went on his way with large strides. For a moment, you stood there, staring at the back of his head as he walked to his own car like a love struck puppy.

Your hands reached up, pinching your red cheeks as you groaned in embarrassment, knowing you were going to spend the next two years laying awake at night screaming at yourself for this. Eventually you made your way to the metro - deciding that you’d get Dr. Yoshida’s gift tonight. Might as well get something productive today.

#A Minor Slip-Up FIC #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider man: across the spider verse

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lilyevanstan1325 · 4 months

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💎Forever mine,

forever yours💎

Chapter 1

“Vic, pizza at my place tonight?”

My best friend asks me while her gaze is focused on the PC in front of her eyes.

Her fingers move lightly and quickly over the keys.

Her glasses slide down her nose and with her usual little grimace she wrinkles her nose to put them back in their place.

I turn my attention away from the dozens of papers in my hands for a moment to shift my attention to the woman sitting in front of me on the other side of the desk.

As if she felt my gaze on her, she straightens her back, bringing her arms up over her head, stretching her tired limbs, smiling at me sweetly.

I shook my head with an apologetic smile on my lips.

She already knows what it means and an adorable pout automatically graces her lips.

“I know what you're about to say.Come on!You can't just ditch me.Again!It's already the second time this week” she snorts, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her gaze.

Her dark eyes, almost black and speculative, are giving me a silent reproach.

“I'm sorry Sam.Really!But I have to finish these reports by this evening.Plus tonight my father wants me to have dinner with him.Apparently Joel has returned from his trip to Italy and my father is keen to spend the evenings together”

Another feeling quickly makes room in her big eyes, totally opposite to disappointment.

A mischievous smile spreads across her face.

I roll my eyes, returning to focus on my work, clearly avoiding her string of questions and insinuations that are boiling in her head, sure that my friend won't take it badly.

Samantha and I have known each other since middle school, since our first day of school when she was alone and disoriented in a new place.

She shyly approached me during lunch.

I still remember her frightened look, her glasses too big for her thin face and her mop of curly hair the same color of chocolate.

She had just moved from Missouri to follow her parents, both lawyers, who had found a new and promising job in the hot state of Texas.

As far as I can remember, from that moment on we were never separated from each other.

After years of friendships limited only to the circle of children of my father's wealthy friends, I had finally found a true friend.

We went through the college and university years leaning on each other and for a year now we have even managed to find work in the same office.

Technically I had no choice, working in my father's accounting department had almost been an obligation, but after all I love this job.

Numbers have always fascinated me.

If then I add that my father had also hired my best friend, I don't think I can complain one bit.

Because being the boss's daughter isn't easy.

Surviving the constant stares of other employees is disheartening.

Hearing them whisper to each other about how I'm only here because I was recommended made me suffer at first but I was able to have my little revenge, I managed to demonstrate more than once that I know how to do my job.

That I'm here because I'm capable.

Damn, I'm good at what I do!

And Samantha's support has always been my strength.

I finish forwarding the latest emails and with a big sigh I throw my head back pressing my aching back, due to the hours spent sitting in the same position, against the back of the chair.

When I look up from my PC I find Sam in the same position I left her in a few minutes ago.

I raise an eyebrow curiously.

“What?” I ask when I see that my friend still isn't willing to answer me.

Sam shakes her head with a mischievous smile plastered on her beautiful face.

“When were you going to tell me about it?” she asks, getting up from her chair and approaching me.

I observe her carefully while with an innate grace she leans her hips wrapped in an elegant pair of black trousers against my side of the desk.

“Said what exactly?”

Sam laughs throwing her head back, a couple of unruly curls escape from her tight bun but she immediately puts them back in place by pushing them gently behind her ear.

“Oh c'mon!You will have dinner with mister Joel I'm too sexy Miller.What will you wear?Oh, wait!Why don't you wear your Versace red dress you bought last month?I'm sure he'll lose his mind”

I block out her flow of words by placing my hand on her knee.

“Sam!For God's sake, will you calm down?” I hiss through my teeth.

I don't even understand why I'm whispering since there's only the two of us left in the office but talking about Joel always makes me nervous.

I shake my head as if to reproach her.

“It's just a stupid dinner.And then you have to stop!There has never been anything between me and Joel and there never will be.He is my father's best friend and business partner.That man saw me with a diaper, God!”

I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth thinking about Joel.

I've known Joel Miller since I was born.

Him and my father are childhood friends, both born and raised in the same neighborhood.

Together they created their small construction company which over the years has grown dramatically to the point of making them two industrial magnates.

Their stock prices skyrocketed in the last fifteen years, making them the two richest men Wall Street has ever seen.

Earning them more and more covers on titles such as Forbes and the Wall Street Journal.

There is no one in America or Europe who is not aware of the empire they built from nothing.

But while my father met the woman of his life, my sweet mother, on the road to his success, Joel always remained alone.

He has rarely appeared publicly in the company of any woman although I suspect that in private he is full of women ready to die for his attention.

And I'm also among those women...

It's a shame that he never noticed me in that way even if I certainly can't blame him for that.

How could a fifty-year-old man who can count on having had beautiful women in his life, and in his bed, notice me?

I'm just the daughter of his best friend.

A girl of just twenty-five.

I look at my reflection in the turned off monitor of my PC, wondering what more I should have to please a man like Joel Miller.

Maybe I should be taller and definitely thinner.

Maybe the slightly more pronounced curve of my ass or my slightly too busty breasts don't fit into his beauty standards.

My long blonde hair and my blue eyes like the sea are not his type.

The few women I have seen him with have always been beautiful brunettes with golden skin.

Joel Miller will never look at me the way I want to be looked at.

To him I will always be a little girl, Andrew White's little daughter.

“Vic?Are you still with me?”

Sam's voice calls me softly.

I close my eyes burying all my insecurities into the darkest part of my heart.

I smile trying to reassure my friend who obviously doesn't buy it but doesn't push me any further.

She knows when it's time to let go of me especially when it comes to Joel.

She gives me an understanding smile and then moves away from my desk with a light push of her hips.

I watch her as she picks up her jacket from the chair and her bag.

Then she wishes me a good evening with another greeting, making me promise that in the morning we will have breakfast together.

I watch her back disappear through the large glass doors as her heels click on the polished dark marble floor.

With a trembling hand I grab my coat and after looking for the car keys in my bag I head towards the underground car park.

“I wish you a good evening, Miss White” Waylon, the night guard of the building, greets me with a slight bow, a greeting to which I respond distractedly, too stressed by the evening that awaits me.

Without knowing how I find myself in front of the large gates of the villa where my father and I live.

It's like my car knew the way home and brought me here on its own.

I have a vague memory of the road I traveled too intent on nervously chewing my scarlet nails.

The small red light at the top of the gate turns green within a few moments causing the gates to open so I can enter.

As I drive along the long tree-lined path that precedes the immense villa I notice a parked car.

Joel's car.

My heart rate skyrockets at the idea of seeing him again after such a long time.

My grip on the steering wheel slips due to the sweat that begins to wet my palms.

Once I pull over the car I try to dominate all the feelings that stir in my heart.

I can't let my father see me in this condition but above all I can't let his best friend see me like this.

I observe my reflection in the small rear-view mirror, smoothing my hair with my hands and retouching my makeup, brightening up my faded lipstick after a day at work.

I get out of the car looking at the sky, the sun is now setting, coloring it with beautiful red-orange shades, soft and graceful pink clouds adorn it.

I approach with a determined step towards the large mahogany door which opens as if it had sensed my presence.

Behind them appears the thin figure of the housekeeper who bows her head slightly as I pass, hurrying to pick up the coat and the bag which I hold in my hands.

“Good evening, Miss White.Your father is waiting for you at the kitchen on the patio”

“Thank you, Lucy”

I thank her promptly as I set off towards the direction she indicated.

The closer I get, the more I feel the anxiety rising from my stomach and up my throat, parched with anxiety.

And excitement.

As much as I try to deceive Sam and my own heart, I am aware of the fact that mine is not a simple crush.

There is much more inside me than a teenage crush.

A much hotter fire burns inside me for my father's best friend.

When I cross the threshold into the kitchen, Joel Miller is sitting at one of the chairs at the large dining table.

My heart literally skips a beat.

His muscular legs are stretched out in front of him, wrapped in a pair of jeans that hug his thick, powerful thighs like the sin wraps the devil.

One arm is resting casually on the back of the chair while in the other hand he holds a beer.

His long, strong fingers are wrapped languidly around the bottle neck.

The same fingers that in my daydreams wrap possessively around my neck.

I feel an embarrassing blush spread from my neck to my cheeks.

The sound of my heels clicks on the polished floor, immediately attracting the man's attention.

A sweet smile spreads across his relaxed face.

“Hey, sweetheart” he welcomes me getting up and after placing the beer on the table he reaches me with a few quick strides.

“Welcome back”

I greet him wrapping my arms around his neck at the same time his large arms wrap around my hips causing my feet to lose contact with the floor for a moment.

When he puts me down he doesn't let go of my hips as my hands rest delicately on his chest.

“Is Italy really as beautiful as they say, uncle Joel?”

God..

The words burn like poison on my tongue.

Uncle Joel.

I've always called him that for as long as I can remember.

But if before I was just a little girl who demonstrated her affection towards a person who she considered a member of her family, now it sounds completely wrong.

Wrong since in the darkness of my bedroom, with my fingers deep inside my heated slit, his name rolls out, curling around my tongue.

Joel, daddy.

Taking on a much more compromising meaning.

I am distracted from my thoughts when the man's warm hands cup my face gently.

“Yeah, Italy is beautiful but ain't like home” he whispers, letting me go.

In the fraction of a second his hand intertwines with mine and together we approach the table and sit down opposite each other.

Like a perfect gentleman, Joel grabs a beer from above the table, uncorks it and hands it to me.

I accept it without ever taking my eyes off his face.

His eyes are surrounded by many small wrinkles, his dark curls are crossed by several salt and pepper strands like his beard.

These are the only signs that could indicate the true age of this man.

For the rest, Joel Miller has nothing to envy compared to all the guys of my age that I know.

Broad shoulders, wide chest, a defined abdomen.

Not to mention his thighs.

God, his thighs.

If there is one part of his body that I could lose control of, it's his thick, muscular thighs.

The sinuous, power-packed muscles that bring only sinful thoughts to my mind right now are lightly contracting as he lifts one leg to rest his ankle on the opposite knee.

“Sweetheart?”

The sweet and saccharine voice of the man who is the protagonist of my most lustful dreams calls to me.

Embarrassed, I immediately look away from the part of his body capable of making me lose my mind, hoping that he hasn't noticed my insistent staring.

But obviously I'm wrong.

His dark eyes are serious, his gaze a hard frown.

For a moment, for just a moment, I think I see lust in them but what he seems to want to convey to me is only disapproval for having caught me staring at him like a bitch in heat.

Oh God!

If only he knew how I could be a bitch only for him...

I try to ease the tension by moving my gaze towards the patio door overlooking the immense garden.

“Where's dad?” I ask with feigned nonchalance, bringing my attention back to the man in front of me.

Joel watches me in silence and then nods towards the garden behind him.

His dark eyes are still serious.

I roll my eyes to ease the tension.

“Oh God!Barbecue?Again?” I ask disheartened.

If there's one thing that obsesses my father more than his money, it's that damn barbecue.

He never misses an opportunity to use it and his rounded belly is proof of this.

Even though only a handful of years separate them, there is a world of difference between my father and Joel.

Although my father is still a handsome man for his fifty-two years, with wavy blond hair and deep blue eyes, his physique is more softened.

He doesn't look like his best friend.

Oh, not a chance in hell.

Joel continues to observe me with a seriousness I've never seen from him, not directed towards me in the end.

Not knowing what to say, I take another sip of beer, hoping that the golden liquid will give me some confidence.

“The last time I asked him to cook me some vegetables he replied that nothing green and flaccid will ever be placed on his grill” I snort trying to shift Joel's attention to another topic.

Finally his features relax giving me an amused smile, even though I could swear I see a slight shadow of agitation behind his gaze.

He brings the bottle to his lips again and I watch in rapture as his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

I cross my legs trying to hide the sweet discomfort that tingles the center of my core.

I mentally curse myself.

It will be a very long evening.

Damn.

The man's gaze slides along my body, from head to toe, before returning his attention to my face.

It's like he's studying me, like he's seeing me for the first time.

As if he really see me.

We observe each other in silence until the door leading to the garden opens revealing my father, busy carrying a plate full of steaks inside the house.

“Hey, little one.You're finally home” he greets me, placing the plate on the table and approaching to leave a kiss on the top of my head.

My father is usually not so physical in his relationship with me but tonight he is in a particularly good mood, certainly due to Joel's return.

I clear my throat, attracting the attention of the two men already busy talking about business with each other.

“I'm going to wear something more comfortable” I announce trying to get up but my father's strong hand wraps around my wrist inviting me to stay seated.

“No need, little one” he admonishes me.

I snort and sit back down.

I hate when he calls me that.

I hate when he does it in front of Joel and constantly points out the age gap between us.

We begin to eat in silence, a silence that is interrupted only by a few questions about my work from Joel.

My father, for his part, is too silent and I don't miss the furtive glances that the two friends constantly exchange but I tend to ignore them.

It certainly concerns their work, matters in which they don't want me to interfere.

After a few minutes where the only noise in the room is the forks scraping against the plates, I hear a sigh full of tension from my father.

In reaction, I turn towards him, catching a strange stiffening of Joel's body out of the corner of my eye.

I observe the scene in bewilderment as the two men seem to silently communicate with each other.

A weird tension crackles in the air making me strangely anxious.

What happen?

Unable to hold back much longer, I place a hand on my father's forearm, squeezing it slightly.

His eyes immediately move to my hand and then to my face.

I know he can read all the worries I'm feeling.

“What's going on, dad?” I ask in a whisper.

The two men exchange one last long look.

My father runs a hand through his blond hair, pulling them slightly.

Joel gives me a look from his seat that seems to contain an apology.

His gaze doesn't leave me even when my father starts talking.

“Victoria Pamela”

He rarely uses my full name.

And when he does that it's never a good thing.

“What's going on, dad.You're sick?” I ask in panic.

The only thing that comes to my mind looking at their tense looks is that my father is sick.

What else could it possibly be?

My father pauses as if he is trying to muster up the strength to talk to me and I feel my heart beating furiously in my chest, the sound of it echoes in my ears, stunning me.

I rub my hand along his arm encouraging him to continue.

“Vic, honey, there's something you need to know” he exhales grabbing my hand anchored to his arm and squeezing it gently.

“You're scaring me” I chuckle nervously, fighting back the tears that threaten to show themselves.

“I had some problems at work.I made a wrong investment and I lost money.A lot of money”

Unconscious I let out a shaky breath that I didn't even realize I was holding.

My eyes immediately search for Joel but the man promptly avoids my gaze.

My father's grip tightens around my fingers and this makes me realize that perhaps the worst part of the story is yet to come.

“And?” I whisper unable to say anything else.

Thousands of thoughts are racing in my head trying to understand what's going on.

My father has a lot of money

Really...a lot.

Why would a bad investment worry him so much?

My father lets go of my hand so he can rest his elbows on the table and intertwine his fingers.

“I put almost all my money into a business that unfortunately went bad so I asked for a loan but now I can't pay it anymore”

I grind my lower lip between my teeth.

The situation seems to be worse than I thought.

I move my hands in an uncoordinated way in front of me.

“Can't you just talk to the bank?I'm sure you can find a solution.And then Joel can help you.Isn't it, uncle Joel?” I ask, moving my gaze from my father's sweetly resigned face to the man in front of me.

Joel shakes his head in response.

“Ain't that easy, sweetheart”

His southern drawl has a bitter edge.

“How much money are we talking about?”

“It doesn't matter, little one” my father interrupts, leaving me confused.

Joel takes another sip of his beer finally turning his entire frame towards my father.

“Andrew...she must know the truth if we want this to work”

In my father's gaze there seems to be a struggle between different feelings but then I see him nod.

“Now you have to listen to me without interrupting me Victoria, do you understand?”

I nod disoriented.

What are they talking about?

My heart hammers incessantly in my chest, tattooing itself against my ribs.

“Joel and I are not just contractors.We didn't build an empire just thanks to our investments.There is more.We have also invested in another trade”

I listen to his words with extreme attention, trying to understand where he wants to go with his words.

What other business is he talking about?

Even if an idea pops up in my mind I immediately set it aside.

I don't even want to think that both of them are involved in some sinister business.

I force myself to remain silent, waiting for my father to finally tell me the truth.

But he doesn't.

His mouth opens and closes several times as if he wants to speak but his words won't come out of his lips.

Feelings akin to shame and remorse darken his blue eyes.

“Weapons” Joel interjects, seeing the difficulty etched on the face of his best friend.

His words are like a punch to the chest.

My head snaps in his direction, eyes bulging.

“Weapons?I don't think I understand” I murmur breathlessly.

Joel smiles bitterly.

“Ya get it, sweetheart.Your father and I secretly finance some wealthy man to buy weapons from the black market, receiving generous favors in return”

In my head his words swirl like a swarm of crazy bees.

I try to place them in the exact order to make sense.

I nod trying to calm the tremor that runs through my hands.

I don't know much about this type of business but if there's one thing I know it's that these are people who don't joke.

“Let me understand, please.You invested money in a project that went wrong and you asked these men for money.The bank has nothing to do with it, right?”

My father nods, keeping his head down.

Okay.

We just have to find a solution.

“We could sell the house.I could help you.Could I... I don't know...I could sell my car?My jewels?”

As I speak fervently I feel the corners of my eyes tingle realizing that I have failed miserably in my attempt to remain calm.

“Honey, there's not much we can do.With each passing day the amount to be paid increases more and more.I will pay as long as I can but I can't risk bankrupting the company.Too many families depend on me, I can't risk leaving thousands of family men without a job”

I feel anger clouding every cell of my brain.

I clench my hands into two fists, the knuckles pressing ferociously against the skin, turning the flesh white.

How could he do something like that?

How?

Why didn't he think about me?

To my well-being, to our small, dysfunctional family.

“Why?”

My question sounds demanding.

My clouded gaze planted with hatred on the two men.

Joel doesn't answer.

After all, it's not his problem, right?

But I really can't understand how two such honest men fell into this shit.

“I did it for you, my little one”

I widen my eyes in disbelief.

How dare he?

“For me?I never asked you anything.Nothing!”

“I just tried to make sure you never lack anything” my father shouts back at me.

And his words mark the end of my self-control.

“Bullshit!” I reply, standing up forcefully, hitting my flat palm against the table and causing the chair behind me to crash onto the floor.

The deafening sound reverberates through the entire room, drawing the attention of a frightened Lucy who immediately runs towards the kitchen, placing her hand on her chest.

“Everything is fine?”

“Get out of here!” I bark in her direction before she can finish speaking.

Lucy, terrified by my reaction, blushes in embarrassment and with a few apologies on her lips she backs away until she disappears.

“I never asked you for anything!” I yell again, “Do you know what I wanted?I just wanted a father”

I accuse him, stopping any attempt to reply by silencing him with a sharp wave of my hand.

Now, that the dam that kept at bay the river of pain and sorrow suffered in my life because of him, has broken, I can no longer contain my frustration.

“When I was six you gave me a new bicycle while I just wanted you to be present at my school play.Do you know who was there instead of you?Joel was there.When I graduated you gave me a new car while I just wanted you to be in the crowd applauding but you weren't there!There was Joel in your place” I spit and don't caring about the growing pain in my father's eyes I go headed with spite.

“When I got my first salary I wanted to celebrate with you, talk to you about how I was respected at work for my skills but you weren't there and guess what?There was Joel who brought me a pizza and listened to me babble for hours.Him” I scream pointing to the man who has always been there for me, “He has always been there.Where were you?I never wanted your money.I just wanted your love” I sniff.

The explosion of anger left me emptied of all emotion.

I can't believe I was able to vomit out years and years of pain.

And even though I feel like a small part of my heart is dying tonight, I feel lighter.

Painfully empty but deliciously light.

I pick up the chair from the floor and collapse ungracefully onto it.

My chest rises and falls furiously as I try to bring my rapid breathing back to a humanly sustainable pace.

A tense silence surrounds us until my father breaks it.

“Since your mother left us I have always just tried to do my best”

I burst out into a derisive laugh, crossing my arms on the table and burying my head in them.

“Yeah...you know?You fucked up, man” I mumble against the skin of my arm, biting the flesh until the clear outline of my teeth is painfully printed on it.

And now?

What do we do, now?

God!

Right now their sinister business don't even seem like such a big deal to me anymore.

Does him have money's problems?

Let him manage it!

As far as I'm concerned, I'm even willing to go live in a studio apartment and get a job at Starbucks to get away from him.

From them.

Even though Joel muttered little more than a few words, I am aware that he too belongs to that shit.

“Victoria, please listen to me”

My father's plea reaches that little part of me that still craves for his attention and no matter how much I try to turn it off, that little part is always there ready to show that I am a good girl.

I look up and first thing I meet Joel's dark and serious eyes, his unreadable and dominant gaze makes the strings of my soul vibrate.

Too dazed by what just happened, I struggle to turn my head towards my father.

“For me there isn't much to do, I will pay as long as I can.But for you...I can still do something for you.These men are dangerous, very dangerous, and when they don't get what they ask for...before they get to me they will use who I love to make me suffer”

A shiver runs up my spine as the implicit meaning in his words takes root in my brain.

Perhaps, moved by the panic he sees in my eyes, Joel abandons his spot to sit next to me and wrap his arm around my shoulders and I take the opportunity to curl up against his side.

Taking a deep breath of his strong scent.

Joel's scent, the scent of his skin, has always had a calming effect on my nerves.

In his arms I always felt safe.

“Listen” he murmurs, kissing my forehead, “We just have to play smart with these men”

I nod at Joel's words, nuzzling my head against the crook of his neck.

“What should I do?” I murmur dejectedly, moving away from his grasp and looking at my father.

If tonight they decided it was the right time to talk to me this means that they have also already found some sort of solution to the problem.

And call it just a problem is an understatement.

“As I told you before, there is little I can do for myself but there is a way to keep you safe, a way that will ensure that those men don't get close to you”

My father and Joel exchange a look full of meaning that I still can't understand and then the latter just nods.

As if he was giving my father permission to finally expose his plan.

“Joel had nothing to do with this whole thing.I did everything on my own, I wanted to take a risk knowing that he didn't agree.I acted behind his back and I will never forgive myself for this.I'm sorry, brother”

My father's contrite gaze shifts to my side.

Joel shakes his head, a sad smile faintly lifting one corner of his plump lips.

“In the eyes of these people he is still a respectable and, above all, feared man.And this, my dear, will be the strength that we will exploit” my father continues, clearing his throat.

I frown in confusion.

I wrap my arms around my mid section to try to keep all my pieces together.

“You can help us, then” I say with a small spark of confidence in my heart turning my torso in Joel's direction.

“They fear you, they respect you.You can talk to them, ask them to give him more time.You can vouch for him, can't you uncle Joel?”

The man looks at me dejectedly shaking his head.

Annoyed, I straighten my back.

“Why don't you want to help us?” I breathe out in anguish.

My father stands up to his full height, every bit of his body exuding an aura of power.

“Victoria Pamela, you will marry Joel” he announces, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze serious.

For a moment I look at him without understanding.

You will marry Joel.

I feel my head spinning.

What does he mean with you will marry Joel?

I shake my head vigorously, shielding my ears with my hands.

“If this is a joke it's not funny” I spit through my teeth.

“Do you think I'm joking?” my father's furious look, as he spells out the words one by one, makes my skin crawl.

He can't be really serious.

My heart skyrockets.

Joel cannot agree.

I stand up too, facing my father with a hard face.

“Are you crazy?Oh my God!And you?” I ask angrily, turning my back to my dad and turning towards the man who, despite everything, remains stoic in his silence.

“Do you agree with this fucking bullshit?”

Joel maintains his composure by looking at me seriously, so seriously that it makes my skin shiver.

And this time no, them are not shivers of pleasure.

I cannot believe it.

They are playing with my life, with my feelings, as if nothing had happened.

“Vic, if you become his wife, those men won't even dare to look in your direction.You understand it?You will inherit all my assets, my company share and Joel will be able to protect you as he always has.As I wasn't able to do”

Ignoring my father's words, I continue to keep my gaze on Joel's face but he seems impassive.

I can't even detect a hint of his thoughts in his face.

In front of me I have a wall without emotions.

I turn my back on him, determined to ignore him.

“Dad you can't be serious.I-I-I- I'm already seeing someone!How...how do you expect me to give up my life like this!”

“Who?”

Joel's voice sounds like an animal growl behind me.

Caught off guard by his reaction, I turn my attention again towards him.

“What?”

“Who are ya dating?”

“It's none of your business, uncle Joel” I scoff, pressing on my last two words.

“Jackson's son” my father replies, getting a light, amused snort from Joel.

It's not really happening.

I repeat in my head while closing my eyes and vigorously rubbing the tips of my fingers against my temples I try to tame the headache that threatens to explode minute after minute.

I move back and forth for a few minutes unable to stop.

If I stop the thoughts will eat me alive.

“You can't force me.You can't force me to marry him” I declare firmly, stopping my constant back and forth.

With a trembling hand I bring a glass of water to my lips but after just a few sips I am forced to stop because the nausea arise in my throat.

I can't marry Joel.

I don't want to marry Joel.

Not like that.

I always fantasized about him, dreaming that one day he would notice me and that he might fall in love with me.

I always dreamed that he really loved me...

But not like that.

This is all wrong.

This will break my heart.

He cannot accept.

He can't humiliate and mortify me like this.

I feel the anger boiling under my skin again.

“What will happen to my reputation?I can't marry him.He's your best friend.What do people say?Joel is...Joel is old” I hiss, imprinting my words with spite.

I want him to feel as mortified as I feel.

But to my surprise Joel laughs.

I watch him as he throws his head back, putting a hand to his chest.

When he recovers from his fit of laughter he stands up, towering dangerously over me.

He is so tall that I have to tilt my head back to look him straight in the face.

“Are ya talking to me about reputation?I'm the one who has to marry a spoiled little girl who can't even understand that her life, her father's life, is at stake.Don't come talking to me about reputation, little one”

Every word he says is a slap in my face.

That's who I am to Joel Miller.

I'm just a little girl who he will never see as a woman.

With my heart pumping furiously in my chest and my eyes flooded with tears I turn away and run away to my room.

I can't afford to show how much his words hurt me.

With my heart gripped in a grip of pain and panic, I close my bedroom door behind me with a loud thud, collapsing against it.

I close my eyes, placing a hand on my chest and with my mind clouded by despair I drag myself towards the bed, changing my clothes and putting on shorts and an old white t-shirt.

I sit on the bed hugging my knees and crying all the tears I've managed to hold back so far.

Oh my Lord!

If you were here, mom, all this would never have happened.

I don't have many memories of her anymore.

Photos of her are the only thing that keeps the memory of her face alive in my head.

I don't even remember the sound of her voice anymore...

I was only four when a car accident took her away from me.

I only remember that that evening Joel rushed to our house and spent the whole night with me while my father went to the hospital to recognize the scarred body of the love of his life.

I shake my head, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

Joel.

Joel has always been here for us.

For me.

He followed me on the path of life trying to fill the void left by my parents.

A light knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts.

“Go away, dad!I don't want to talk, right now!” I shout against the closed door sniffling.

The fine dark mahogany door opens slowly revealing Joel's tall figure.

The man crosses his arms over his chest, resting his shoulder against the doorframe.

Seeing my furious look he raises his hands in front of him giving me one of his most sincere smiles.

“I'm not here to argue, I swear.Can we just talk?”

I scrutinize his face but I no longer find the anger or mockery there as before.

In front of me is the usual Joel, the man who is always kind and thoughtful when it comes to me.

“Come in, uncle Joel”

“Could ya just stop calling me that?”

“Why?How should I call you?My husband is good?”

As he approaches, on his suddenly serious face, a muscle in his jaw twitches dangerously.

He only stops when his knees touch the edge of the bed and then he sits on it.

He stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

The flat palms of his hands rest on the blanket as he throws his head back staring at the ceiling and sighing loudly.

His broad chest expands into full display right in front of my eyes.

“It's all so fucked up” I blurt out, drawing his attention again.

His body straightens and his deep brown eyes focus on my face.

Embarrassed by our prolonged exchange of glances, I lower my gaze, losing myself in observing the veins that run along his arms, going up along his strong and toned biceps left uncovered by the gray t-shirt he is wearing.

His tanned skin glistens in the dim light coming from the lamp placed on the bedside table.

I feel the pressure of two strong fingers pressing under my chin, forcing me to look up at his beautiful features again.

The curly hair that frames his face seems so soft that I have to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to stop myself from stroking and smoothing them with devotion.

Fuck!

I'm totally fucked up...

“I'm sorry if I disappointed ya.I'm sorry that ya discovered that in the end I'm not the good man ya thought but...but I'm still me, sweetheart.I'm Joel” he whispers softly, stroking my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb while the rest of his hand welcomes my face in a tender caress.

I pinch my lip between my teeth, suddenly struck by a wave of heat burning from the center of my legs.

Imperceptibly I squirm in embarrassment.

“Listen to me.If there was another way I would have found it.I swear.But...but there's not.And I have to protect ya.I have to protect ya, sweetheart.Ya and yer father are my whole family, ya are all I have”

His syrupy words are followed by his hand which, as light as the flapping of a butterfly's wings, rests on my bare ankle, wrapping it in his thick coullosed fingers, sending my mind into a tailspin.

Short-circuiting my brain and creating imbalances in my heart.

My skin is covered in shivers.

I hope he doesn't notice even though right now his eyes are watching his hand as he traces small circles on my heated skin with his thumb.

“How...how does it work?We can't get married overnight” I murmur softly trying to distract my attention from Joel's gentle caresses on my body.

He lets his hand slide up my leg stopping at the knee then his eyes are focused on mine again.

He shrugs.

“We'll show up together.Some dinner, some walking.Nothing compromising.The paparazzi will do the rest and we will let the newspapers talking for us.Your father will make some statement, he will say that at the beginning he was not happy about it but that in the end he accepted our love.Then we'll have an engagement party.Your father wants us to get married before the summer”

His words are cold, automatic.

He doesn't care about any of this.

For him it's a stupid farce to play.

Joel misreading the pain in my gaze, mistaking my broken heart for fear, slides his body towards mine, grabbing my face in his hands.

He wraps his fingers around my cheeks with a reverential delicacy, as if I were crystal in his hands.

“I will never touch ya.Never, Victoria.I would never do anything ya don't want.We just have to hold on, play our part and when things are settled we will divorce and ya will be free again” Joel whispers, his intoxicating breath flavored with the smell of beer gently crushing on my parted lips.

Divorce.

I don't know why but my eyes fill with tears.

I am aware that this marriage will all be a farce but the idea that he is totally sure that he doesn't want me shatters my heart.

And this is a pain I don't know if I could bear.

For the last ten years I have kept my infatuation for him at bay but now faced with the real prospect of living with him, of living Joel day after day, it complicates everything.

Deprived of all my willpower, I nod weakly.

I have no other choice.

But before the man in front of me lets go of my face I wrap my hands around his wrists.

“Promise me you'll do everything you can to get my father out of this fucking mess!”

Joel nods with conviction placing his warm lips against my forehead, his mustache and stabble tickling my skin, making my toes curl in pleasure.

After which, too quickly for my taste, he interrupts the contact and standing up.

“I will never stop”

He walks towards the door but before he can leave I whisper his name making him turn towards me again.

A stupid smile blossom on my lips.

“Do you remember when I was nine and I asked you to marry me?”

I laugh amused at the memory.

Joel's laughter echoes within the walls, warming my heart.

His eyes, surrounded by many small and delicious wrinkles, shine like onyx.

Still smiling, he takes his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small, crumpled piece of paper from it.

He comes closer and hands it to me and I already know what it is before my hand accepts it.

In front of me I have the paper where the me of the past had written her ramshackle vows of love for her beloved uncle Joel.

Shaking my head, I give it back to him, watching as he carefully puts it back in his wallet.

“Have you kept it with you since then?” I ask in disbelief and also excited.

I can't believe that that small, insignificant piece of paper remained in his wallet for sixteen years.

Joel reaches the door again and without turning towards me he whispers softly “This is my most precious treasure, sweetheart”

And in the blink of an eye Joel Miller disappears.

My heart pounding against my aching ribs and I let myself fall against the pillows.

I close my eyes and, accompanied by the sweet scent of Joel that still lingers in the room, I fall asleep, too tired and overwhelmed to dwell on the mess that will become my life.

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atomsminecraft · 20 days

Text

Summer has started for me and so I decided to try and write more

Couldn’t have made this as good without the help of @wistfulwanderingone and their amazing writing advice, so thank you Wistful for helping me!

Too late to say I’m sorry

The furniture was all around the room, knocked over and broken. Blood and small pieces of cloth could be seen around the room. The eerie silence was suffocating, something that was never good to hear.

They were all too late.

Lou was too late.

Lou stared at the scene before him, horror across his face. What had he done? Why didn’t he come earlier?

MC, Christoph, and the other Vanum people who should have been there were gone. Everyone was gone.

Nedhi shouldn’t have left with them until the morning. They should have been able to save them.

Lou felt his throat tighten as he forced himself not to cry. He lost her, after all these years he finally got her back, and yet he let her get away. He let MC get taken, and he aided in her kidnapping.

The broken arm of a chair was thrown at Lou’s head. “Look what you’ve done!” Dia yelled, the anger in his voice evident. Everyone looked away, not wanting to face Dia’s frustration, instead they all looked for anything that might show any sign of life.

As everyone else looked around, it was Toa who found something. A hair clip. MC’s hair clip. Toa looked at the bobet for a few minutes before someone called his name. He looked up to see Lynt staring at him. “What did you find?” Lynt asked. Toa showed Lynt the hair clip and Lynt’s eyes widened.

“That’s….” Lynt couldn’t finish the sentence. Toa could only nod. He carefully put the hair clip into his pocket, almost like he found a priceless treasure.

Meanwhile, Dia was still berating Lou.

Lou couldn’t seem to get a hold of his thoughts. He’d always known just what to do, what to say, but now, all he could think about was MC and that he was too late. “I-I… I’m so sor-“

“Don’t! Don’t you dare apologize! That won’t bring her back!” Dia continued to lash out, insulting Lou with all the anger he had. “She TRUSTED you! She trusted that you would keep her safe! And look what you did! You betrayed her! You let her be taken!” Lou had nothing to say in response. All he could do was look at the ground in sorrow.

Seiketopia. Nedhi took them to Seikitopia. An underground civilization that housed Vanum people that Iritium controlled.

Dozens of thoughts filled Lou’s head. Plans, ideas, options, insults of himself, images of what MC could be possibly going through at the moment, he was thinking of them all. Seiketopia wouldn’t be easily broken into. He especially couldn’t do it alone, even if he tried.

“Seiketopia…” Lou croaked out. “They…. They took them to Seiketopia…” The room went quiet as everyone froze in their tracks. “I know the location, however iritium won’t give up so easily.”

The plan was simple. For the next few weeks, Lou would assist in training them all on colde. The princes would do damage control in their own kingdoms to make sure no one found out how much worse things had become, and when the time was right, they would all come back to help get MC and all the other Vanum people out.

“Even with that plan, how do you intend for us to come back? We are unable to teleport and I doubt our kingdoms will allow us to leave once we come back,” Roy asked.

“I can show you once we go back to the academy,” Lou replied. Everyone agreed and followed the headmaster back to the academy and to his office. In their mind they all were ready to out the headmaster to the other kingdoms for what he had done if the plan was a failure.

Lou took out an old wooden box from his desk and with a flick of his hand a light came from the box and the lid flew open. Inside was a singular key.

Lance spoke up first. “How in creators name is a key supposed to bring us back?”

“I will show you presently.” Lou picked up the key. With a small bit of magic, the key turned into several other keys. Each unique in shape. “Now, repeat after me. Grant me salvation.” And with a bright light, Lou disappeared. After the initial surprise of everyone in the room wore off, they all repeated the three words. With a bright light, they all disappeared from Lou’s office.

A stone room with some furniture greeted them. “Welcome to Salvation.”

#court of darkness #court of darkness voltage #court of darkness fanfiction #court of darkness fanfic

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saradika · 2 years

Text

hoping against hope

Rated M - 2.8k

Pairings - kino loy x wife!reader

Tags: andor spoilers, fix-it fic, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence and death, anxiety, vaguely implied sexual content, loose third-person pov, flashbacks

Summary: There is one way out. And against all odds - he takes it.

He comes home.

A/N - Based heavily on this vanity fair interview (the snippets of his backstory), and an exploration to see what it might be like if he had made it home to his family (which comprises of his wife - no descriptors given). Of course Andor is so brilliantly written - this is purely for a little bit of angst and comfort.

There had been a time - years ago - when a knock at the door would have had her racing through the room.

Her heart leaping into her throat as she threw open the door, chest so tight she could hardly breathe.

And now, she despises it.

It’s become a painful thing, something she’s become dulled to over the years. Enough to where if she has company, they will answer the door for her. Walk right in, if they know she is home.

But she’s alone, tonight.

And the knock rings out, again.

———

It’s late, far past dark - nerves coiling in her stomach as her fingers curl around the blaster. Something she had never wanted to own, but had become a necessity over the past few years.

With the troopers that moved into town, the trouble seeming to follow in their wake. A constant and painful reminder of what happened.

It’s been close to a decade but she still remembers the call - the hushed croak of a voice, the tone of someone not wanting to be overheard.

“It’s Kino. They’re here, at the mine-”

She knew the comm was from one of the boys on his shift. Had barely made it in time, pushing her way to the front of the crowd as a group of men were slapped in binders.

Her husband - red-faced, the shaken-loose swoop of hair that swung across his forehead - still arguing, as his arms are yanked behind him.

Her voice, carried through the air - his snarl cutting off as he sees her. The flash of sorrow, the moment of distraction used to push them into the transport.

Eight years.

For disturbing the peace.

For disrupting Empire regulations and procedure.

For just wanting fair hours - the recent increase in output leading to illness, accidents, injury. Two men in critical condition, a dozen more wounded, from a collapsed tunnel that never should have happened.

All under his watch.

It could have all been prevented.

It had been enough to make him snap.

A calm discussion that had quickly turned to shouting, to violence, leading to four men arrested. Their judgment passing just as quickly - barely any time to process, to say goodbye - before he was gone.

And it’s like a ghost stands before her now - as the door swooshes open. The blaster clattering to the floor, because she knows that shape, the curve of lips and the shape of a nose beneath the low hood of the cloak.

The hands that push the fabric back, the bit of light from the twin moons casting shadows across his face.

And though a part of her know this - her brain seems to stutter, the picture in front of her not making sense.

Because, it was him. Not entirely the him she knew. Her husband. His face is different - still him, just older. The dark ink of his hair turned silver, the light, neat beard now full and long. Lines carved deep from time around his eyes and forehead.

Though, his eyes are the same.

The same as the photos, the same as in her memories and dreams.

They blink at her - no words coming as he takes a step forward. As her arms are coming to wrap around him, a sob choking her as his hand curls around the back of her head, crushing her against him.

He was home.

———

The door locks in place when he steps inside.

There’s a million questions they both have, all of them tight and stuck in their throats. A weird sort of melancholic remembrance - a moment in time where things felt just as they had been. A jolt as they realize it couldn’t be more different.

She says his name and it’s like a gift - his memory returning, so much already restored when he had stepped onto this planet. Even more so when he found his way to the town.

So unsure if she would still be there.

That was something that had been on his mind for days, months. Years.

Afraid that she would have left. Or maybe, if she had stayed - that she had moved on.

Found someone else.

He wouldn’t have blamed her.

It would have hurt - after everything. Crawling his way out of that hell, to get back here.

But - he would have understood.

That twist of unease and fear finally and mercifully laid to rest, when he saw her standing in their doorway.

He’s home, but he’s not.

It’s not the same, and it never will be.

Her hand trembles against his face, thumb brushing over weeks-old scruff. He leans into it, the first touch in years that wasn’t a means to an end.

When her mouth presses to his and his eyes close, it’s now and it’s twelve years ago and he can hear a rough, ragged sound that takes him a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat.

Eight years of pushing everything down, springing to the surface as his jaw grits.

She leads him to their room. Set up the same but much like them, the details had changed over the years. Searching through closets that still hold his things, even after all this time.

Finding him clothes, to get him out of the ones he’s been working in, traveling in, sleeping in. Clothes that weren’t even his - the shoes too tight on aching feet, the jacket frayed at the cuffs and heavily stained.

Both a luxury, after the prison.

“Tell me everything.” She tells him, handing him an old sweater that smells freshly laundered.

He hesitates.

So much like he had on the platform at Narkina 5.

Because nothing had turned out the way he thought it would. Even after the days, weeks, it took to get back here - he's still uncertain.

Such a different hestitation from before, because then, he had been sure of what would happen. Had known from the beginning, as soon as the whispers began.

Had made peace with it the night before. A stab of guilt the he had thought about the complicity he had been lulled into. The daze and ache in the hallway with Ulaf that came when he realized he was never going to leave that prison alive.

Because there would be no escape.

Not for him. Not here.

He couldn’t swim.

An irony that was not lost on him. It was a prison in more ways than one - caging him in, even as he stood, breathing in the fresh air.

Feet planted flat on the platform as the others rushed by, diving into the ocean, to their freedom. The rueful smile he had managed to send Keef, before the despair set in - so close to freedom, after all those years.

At the cost of his self-sacrifice, thousands of others could go home, rejoin their families. It was what he had to do, he knew that.

She was never far from his mind, as his eyes closed. Stinging, from the sun and the wind and the tears that seem to spring up, unbidden.

Not paying attention to the surge of men from another floor, rushing from the stairs. His feet ripped out from underneath him as he's suddenly falling.

Plummeting.

Kino is ripped from the memory when she touches his arm - still unsure if he’s real. A sentiment he understands well, the ghost of a smile he sends her way in thanks.

He’s sure he’s frightening her, that she’s worrying. So - as he eases off the torn, canvas jacket - he begins.

He fills in what he can - as he tugs on a pair of thick woolen socks, because he never wants to be barefoot again. Because she knows the timing didn’t line up. That he’s early, that something had happened.

Her hand clutched in his, as he catches her up over these years they’ve been apart. His voice clipped and mechanical, because the wounds are too fresh, and this is the only way he can get through them.

But there’s so many things he doesn’t tell her.

That he won’t ever say out loud.

How he’s spent the last three years unable to remember the way her voice sounded.

Hating himself for forgetting.

How he never thought he’d breathe fresh air, again. How there’s so much of him he’s had to tamp down, close up inside his head, just to make it through each day. Turning himself into a shell, because he had to.

How he’s seen death. Time and time again.

Seeing his own on that platform, how he mourned for himself but also for the woman waiting for him. Wondering if she would ever find out what happened.

His throat growing tight as he weaves in what he can. Skipping over the parts that were too painful. Trying to make her understand just how dire things had been, for all of them.

Her fury and fear and amazement written so plainly across her face. It’s hard to bear.

The afterwards is easier. How those in the water had scattered - how the few of them that had made it to the eastern shore had escaped.

Grateful for Keef again - figuring out how to sneak them aboard a transport that was heading off-world. Stealing clothes, lying through their teeth. Surviving.

Finding men desperate enough for workers, that they didn’t care where they came from. It had almost been funny - the old Weequay foreman telling them to keep their heads down, to do what they were told. It felt different, when you were a free man.

He could do that.

Hours of hard labor in exchange for a pitiful amount of credits. Each day passing, until he could afford a ship home.

Talking until his throat grows hoarse, until he’s realizing for the first time just how weary he is.

She takes over then - like she always had. Coaxing him to bed after a long shift, making him take care of himself.

Sliding in besides him, just as they used to. Lying in silence, her head pressed against his chest. His arms around her in an iron grip.

“I missed you.” He speaks into the dark, “Stars, I missed you.”

Grateful she can’t see him, the cracks that threaten to shatter his armor. He isn’t sure what would happen if she could.

Isn’t sure he’s that strong, yet.

His eyes shut when she repeats the words back.

Finally feeling like he can breathe again.

———

It pains her to hear what happened. To see him like this, though she’s never been more grateful. It’s feels unbelievable, what he’s been through.

Staying awake after he drifts off, exhaustion pulling him under after his long travels, the effort of revisiting the memories.

Watching him, the furrow in his brow that persists, even when asleep.

He’d always been a stern man.

It had become a running joke, the man who was used to barking orders, keeping the line running flawlessly.

A loth-wolf, ferocious as one.

Until he met her.

“And what am I, now?” He had asked, an eyebrow cocked - at one of their evenings spent in good company, at the local cantina.

The two men across from her exchanged looks, before one smirked, leaning closer.

“A tooka, chief.”

Kino had scoffed, lifting his glass - but she could see the edge of a smile hidden behind the cup.

Could feel the warmth of his hand, from where it rested along the back of the booth. Where his fingers brushed the bare skin of her neck, goosebumps raising after.

There was a lot she remembered about that night.

But, she thinks - that softening was gone.

All hard edges, now. Rougher than before.

She think she understands. She isn’t sure she could have made it through what he did - what he had to do to made it home.

The waiting had been agony, but she had bared it. The boys at the mine had been there for her, after. Checking on her, making sure she ate. They had respected him, knowing what he had done was for them.

But Kino had been alone. Stolen from her.

He wasn’t the only thing that Empire had taken from them.

Once upon a time, recently after they were married, there had been whispers. Just little hopes and dreams under the sheets, about their future together. Where they would live, where they would go. What they would do.

Things that she wasn’t even sure were possible - but at that moment, it hadn’t mattered.

It feels like the Empire has stolen that from them, as well. Hope and dreams and time.

So much time.

But, she thinks - maybe they could make it up.

Together.

———

It’s still dark when he finds himself gasping for breath.

Forgetting for a long moment where he is.

This happens often now - the memory of falling. The feeling of weightlessness, the terror as he suddenly jolts awake - expecting the icy impact.

Remembering the way the fear tasted as he went under, as sharp as the salt water that filled his throat.

Somehow - mercifully, instinctually - finding his way to the surface.

Thinking, better to die here, a free man - than face the same death of so many before him.

But he hadn’t. Another grace of the gods, the Force, he'd thank anything - as some of the men from his shift find him. He thinks he tells them to leave him. It’s hard to remember, the panic overshadowing his memories.

But they don't.

They remember his words.

You see someone who's confused, someone who is lost, you get them moving and you keep them moving until we put this place behind us.

They put the place behind them.

His feet touched down on land.

He reaches for her then, remembering. Just as he had reached for them, just as his head was about to submerge again.

The worn cotton of her nightdress feels like silk to his calloused fingers. Unable to sleep soundly in a room that isn’t harsh and white and sterile.

Too warm in his clothes but it’s better than being cold all the time, as he curls himself around her again. Slowly recounting all the things he’s forgotten.

Reacquainting himself with the one he loves, as she stirs, rolling over to face him. Remembering with slow and careful fingers, how they used to fit together so perfectly.

If he only has tonight - then he’ll make it count.

———

There’s the brush of his cheek against hers as the sky just starts to turn from violet to bronze, a voice low in your ear. Tugging her from slumber - this time a much more rested sleep.

“I can’t stay.”

There’s an edge to his voice, sorrow wrapped in steel because he hasn’t been sure how to tell her.

Because he had known. Had been asked to go with Keef and Melshi - where he had hesitated again.

“I can’t.” He had rasped, his eyes bouncing between the two of them.

Keef had understood. The sharp look in his eye, the way his head ducked to make eye contact. His words just as clipped and clear and sure as during that moment in the elevator.

“Kino. There is no going back. Not now.”

He knew there wasn’t. Not to before.

But he could afford a night, couldn’t he? Hadn’t he earned that, after all of those years?

Just a chance to see her, again.

She turns, frowning as she blinks sleepily at him, trying to caught up. Awake enough to notice the singularity of his words, the exact tone in which he says them.

“It’s not safe. For you, for me.” His arms tighten around her, betraying his words, “I haven’t told you everything that’s happened. I need to leave, before-“

Kino’s word die off as she scoffs, her frown deepening - as she rolls over to face him.

It’s insulting. How he assumes she’s stayed here because she wanted to. That she wouldn’t have ran - to her old home, to somewhere new, anywhere - if there had been a way to tell him.

That she hadn’t been terrified to leave the house for weeks, in case something had changed, and he had come home. That she still left notes when she left the house for more than an hour.

That she hadn’t been staying for him.

He misinterprets, hurt flashing across his features, before his jaw sets. But then she’s kissing him, the soft press of her mouth before she’s pushing herself up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed.

“Tell me the rest, then.” She calls from over her shoulder, as she pull the bags out from the storage beneath, “While we pack.”

She’s waited for him - just as he had for her.

She wasn’t letting go of him now.

#a fix it fic #kino loy x reader #kino lot x f!reader #kino loy x you #Kino Loy #andor spoilers

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petri808 · 10 months

Note

This might be a bit cliche, but #38 (helping a lost child find their parent) would go so well with Twiyor with one of them helping Anya find the other and meeting for the first time.

“You help a lost child find their parent together.”

There’s nothing cliche in fan fic lol and bet ya didn’t expect this plot lol

When the jingle, jingle bell sounds, the staff of P.I. Ohana Cafe instinctively look towards the door to see who’s arrived. The chef peering through the kitchen cut out window goes back to work, while the lone server, Yor Briar smiles at the customers. It’s a medium-sized diner, clean but a bit outdated, yet a homey and comfortable place that’s been in business for 44 years. There are a lot of regular customers thanks to popular meals of which the recipes have not changed over the years. They’re also used to serving many unfamiliar faces since they’re near the edge of the city. Often people passing through and stopping for a meal or getting a quick snack for the road. All the different faces make the job less mundane. Now, of the two dozen booths and tables only three are in use since it’s the slow period after the lunch rush and before dinner.

“Please, follow me,” Yor gestures and guides the tall male and young female child to an open booth, noting an odd feeling creeping along her skin. There’s something strange about the pair of newcomers that she can’t yet figure out, but the man’s grip on the girls hand looks unnecessarily tight. Yor starts to place the menus across from each other as most will sit in that configuration, but immediately stops mid-way when the male joins the child on the same side. How odd, she notes, but it is a young girl of maybe five or six, so perhaps it’s to keep her from playing around. With the menus provided, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes to take your order.” As she walks away, the man gruffly thanks her.

It’s her general practice to give the diners around 5 to 8 minutes before checking on their order, so Yor simply goes back behind the counter to wait. She tries not to stare but can’t help wondering who the pair are. The male is an inch taller than Yor, wearing jeans, a gray oversized sweatshirt with hoodie, and a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead. He has brown eyes, she can’t see hair color well, maybe a brown or dirty blonde based on the few left un-buzzed by his nape, and tanned skin as if he works outdoors. Just a normal looking male of maybe his late 30s. The problem for Yor is with his behavior. His expression the entire time has been negative, with a ‘don’t bother me’ scowl plastered on his face, and when he speaks it’s low and curt. If this is the child’s father, the poor girl…

Yor takes them glasses of water, providing the child a straw to make it easier to drink. She then moves through the dining room checking on the other tables, most of whom are almost done eating before returning to the counter. There are many little jobs to do during down times, so Yor works on restocking condiments and utensils, things to prepare for the dinner rush. It’s also helpful to distract her from the strange pair, because every so often the child will peer through the edge of her bangs straight at her, and each time their eyes meet, Yor’s heart sinks. Seeing her sit there with her head down most of the time, never smiling, with a dull, lifeless look in her eyes. The child’s green eyes are like emeralds that have lost their luster and her vibrant pink hair doesn’t match such a sullen expression.

“Have you decided?” Yor asks the man who just nods. “Then what’ll it be hun?”

“For me, a Salisbury steak with mash and potato salad instead of leafy greens, and for the girl, a child’s chicken nugget meal with fries.”

“Anything else to drink, or are you okay with just water?” Yor questions.

“I’ll take a coke and give the kid punch,” the man responds, “or pineapple juice if ya got it.”

Yor puts on a smile as she confirms their order. “Okay, so one Salisbury steak with mash and potato salad, one chicken nugget with fries, a coke, and a punch ‘cause we don’t have pineapple. Anything else?” When the man shakes his head no. She rips the order sheet from her book to give to the chef. “Coming right up, sir.” As she turns to leave, Yor notices that the child’s glass of water is already half empty. Hmm, guess she must be very thirsty she thinks.

When Yor returns with the coke and punch, she also refills the glass of water. The meal takes around 10 minutes to prepare. In the meantime, Yor putters around the counter, ringing up diners that have finished eating, then cleaning up the tables and resetting them for the next customers. Another couple comes in, so she seats them, then a woman comes up to the counter to order take out. In about another hour this place will be at least half full. A second server is scheduled to come in very soon.

When the chef calls out the orders, Yor picks them up and takes them to the strange pair. She places the corresponding plates in front of who ordered it, then adds a couple extra napkins to the table for the child. Just as she’s leaving, Yor’s brow twitches and slightly furrow in confusion at seeing the half-empty water glass again. Note to herself to bring the water pitcher back around in a few minutes.

Time slowly ticks by to the sounds of a restaurant. The radio is playing some country music CD the chef insists on listening to with the volume just loud enough to not restrict the diner’s conversations. Whooshing sounds of refrigeration units and the air conditioner mix with sharp clangs from utensils hitting ceramic plates or bangs from pots being dropped. The couple who recently arrived as well as the other diners are quietly conversing between each other. In fact, the only quiet ones are the strangers hunching over their plates with the man gobbling up his food at a medium pace.

Suddenly, with her back turned, Yor hears a hushed argument coming from the strangers table and turns to see what is going on. She can see the girl fidgeting in her seat and talking to the man who sounds annoyed with her, gesturing and pulling back his fist from hitting the child. The man then swipes his hand down his face in frustration, scoots out from the booth and yanks the girl out too. After quickly scanning around, he starts heading towards the restrooms.

Oh, no, no, no! Yor drops what she’s doing and races over, cutting him off as he’s about to walk into the men’s room. “Sir! You can’t take a girl into the men’s room, that is highly inappropriate!”

“But she’s gotta piss,” he growls low and pushes forward.

Yor holds her hands up and takes a solid stance with one leg slight behind the other. “I will not let you do that…” and just as his mouth opens to retort, she cuts him off. “Since I’m a woman, I can take her to the women’s restroom for you.” Her stare hardens, looking straight at him. “In fact, I insist.”

The man looks around nervously as he tries to decide what to do. At the same time the little girl’s squirming is getting worse and she’s begun whining too, gaining a few judgmental looks from the other diners. As much as he looks like he doesn’t want to let Yor take the girl, he also doesn’t want to attract any more attention. “Ugh, fine!” He grumbles his growl and lets Yor take the child’s hand. “I’ll be waiting right here, so hurry up!”

“Yes, sir,” Yor grits a smile and quickly hustles the girl through the doors.

First things first, Yor allows the girl to run to a stall and helps her to sit properly on the adult-height toilet. Once the child finishes, she takes the girl to a sink and turns on the water almost full blast but doesn’t help her wash her hands. Instead, she kneels and places her hands on the girl’s shoulders, whispering. “Are you okay?”

The child shakes her head no and whispers back. “The man took me from the store, wea I’s with my papa.”

“Oh, my!” Yor’s hand flies up to her mouth in shock, then quickly regains her composure. “Okay.” She again puts her hand back on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m going to go out, and as soon as the door closes behind me, lock it.” She points, “you see the lock? It should be easy for you to turn. Can you do that?” The girl nods her head as moisture has glazed over her vision. Yor hugs the girl tight. “Don’t be afraid, it’s gonna be alright now, you’re safe.”

Two loud knocking bangs sound from the door. “Hurry up!” A male voice yells.

“Finishing right now,” Yor responds to him as she turns off the water. She then questions the girl, “ready?”

“Ready,” the child nods.

After making sure the child can reach the lock, Yor leaves the room, immediately placing her back against the door, and her body between the restroom and the man. She sees the expression change on his face once he realizes something is wrong, and once they hear the quick shuffle and click of the lock inside, he snaps.

He makes a move forward. “What the fuck are you doing! Give me back my kid!”

But Yor stands her ground, taking a solid off-center stance with one foot slightly back as a brace if he rushes her. Her head lowers slightly, glaring through her lashes with piercing ruby eyes burning with malice. With her hands up in a boxer’s defense pose, “You kidnapped the child so no way in hell I’m letting you take her.” She also sees her coworker has arrived and yells for her to call the cops.

The few diners in the restaurant have gathered near the entrance as they watch to see what will unfold. Millie, the second server is on the phone and yells to Yor. “They’re on their way!”

Realizing that he better leave immediately, the man turns and runs for the front door.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Yor screams and grabs the back of the man’s hoodie to pull him back.

He growls and spins, throwing a straight punch as he turns, which Yor sidesteps just in time, but consequently loses her grip on his hoodie. The man takes advantage of her being off-balance, shoving her away into a booth where she hits her back on the edge of the table, then immediately sets off towards the door again.

Now Yor is furious! With a lioness’s roar, she lunges at the man and jumps onto his back, quickly cinching her legs around his waist and wrapping her arms around his neck attempting to do a choke hold. She has her left arm around his neck with his throat pressed into the crook of that arm, and her right hand grabbing onto the forearm of her right arm while that arm pulls backwards to tighten the left arm against his throat. He’s doing everything he can to break the hold she has, clawing at her hands, arms, face, and pulling her hair, he spins around, fumbling, and bumping into tables, chairs, and counters. It’s enough to keep Yor from making the choke hold tight enough.

By now, the fight has moved into the lobby of the restaurant. The diners have gone outside along with Millie and locked the front door. Matthew the chef has also called out to Yor that he’s found some twine if the kidnapper can be subdued.

Tired of dragging this out, Yor jumps off his back and takes a position between him and the front door. She squares up, smiling and gesturing at the man to come at her.

“Fucking bitch!” The kidnapper takes the bait and launches forward, throwing straight or overhand punches with all his strength. Yor starts on the defensive, jab, jab, sidestep, upper cut, jab, hook, moving and shifting to avoid his hits. With each round the man’s retaliations are growing sloppier and sloppier in anger as he tries to use his strength to counter his lack of skills. Jab, jab, sidestep, tap, and push, causing him to stagger briefly and roar, rushing back with another jab that’s easily avoided by Yor who lands another staggering punch to his jaw. Stunned for a second, the man is unsteady on his feet. This is exactly what Yor is waiting for. She sets up, staggering her right foot back and planting her left leg, then quickly pivots her left foot and swings her right leg, raising it up, and connecting the top of her foot to his cheek and jaw in a roundhouse kick. The amount of power Yor put into her pivot and snap kick sends the man flying backwards. The back of his head bounces off the carpet with a thud and knocks him out.

That’s when Matthew rushes over with some twine he’s pulled off a burlap sack in the fridge. It isn’t the strongest, but it’ll be enough to hold the man until the cops take over. They turn him over and tie his wrist together behind his back. “Whew, Yor,” the older Matthew uses the counter to help him stand back up. “I see you still remember your martial arts stuff.”

“It’s been a while,” Yor laughs a bit as she’s still catching her breath.

Now that the man is subdued, and she hears sirens in the distance, she leaves the unconscious man with Matthew to tend to the little girl. Yor knocks on the restroom door. “You can come out now. The bad man can’t harm you anymore.”

“You shuwa?” The girl questions.

“Cross my heart.” Yor responds.

At the click of the lock, the young girl peers around the door first, then upon seeing only Yor, runs out and hugs onto the waitress. Yor kneels and hugs the girl back. Tears finally burst free now that the weight of fear falls away in the arms of her savior. “Thank you, thank you,” the girl repeats. “I was so scared…” she mumbles into Yor’s chest. “So, scawaed I won’ see papa again.”

“Shhh,” Yor coos as she gently rubs the girls back and holds her tight. “You’ll be okay now. The bad man is going to jail where he can’t hurt anyone again.” She pulls away to give the child a once over. “Did he hurt you, do anything to you?” The child shakes her head no. “Thank goodness.” Yor breathes out a sigh of relief that the man hadn’t yet done anything to the child. “What is your name?”

“Anya.” The girl responds. “I’m fou,” she holds up her fingers accentuating her answer. “What yow name lady?”

She smiles. “I’m Yor, Yor Briar.” Hearing commotion, like sounds of the police having arrived, she picks Anya up and walks closer to the front of the restaurant. They stay at a distance just watching the officers as they wake the unconscious man up and move him so they can put the hand cuffs on.

“How come he’s sweeping?” Anya asks Yor.

“Um,” Yor thinks for a moment of an appropriate response. “He tried to get away, so I stopped him by knocking him out.”

Anya’s eyes widens as she exclaims with excitement. “Like a supahewo?!”

Yor laughs, “me, no, I just know martial arts.”

Anya looks confused for a second before it clicks. “Oh! Like Kung Fu Panda!” The child giggles. “Your Tigress!”

Heat blooms across Yor’s cheeks. “I-I don’t know about—” But her words cut off when Anya squeals and she follows the child’s gaze to the front door.

“Papa!” The child points excitedly at a man who just walked in. “Papa!” Once the blonde male is within six feet, Yor puts her down. She races over and jumps into his arms. “Papa!”

“Anya!” The man hugs her tightly as tears flow down his cheeks. “Anya, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry he took you! Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, papa! I sowee I didn’ lisen too.”

The man pulls back to look her in the face. “It’s not your fault,” he corrects her. “It’s mine. I should’ve paid more attention, so don’t think you didn’t anything wrong, okay?”

Anya sniffles and nods her head. “Okie.” She then turns her body in Yor’s direction, pointing as she speaks with enthusiasm. “The lady saves me from the bad man. She’s like Tigress,” Anya punches the air with both hands. “Made the man go sweep!”

During the father daughter reunion, Yor simply stood by quietly and relaxed with her hands clasped in front, smiling at the beautiful scene. Her own childhood had not been an easy one either, having lost her parents in an accident when she was twelve and having to help care for her younger brother who was only five at the time. They were eventually adopted by a nice family, but the whole event made her value family and life even more. So, to help save this little girl is the best feeling in the world. What an adorable family, Yor thinks as she watches father and daughter talk. Anya’s father is taller by a foot than Yor with blonde hair and eyes like the sky on a sunny day, wearing a beige suit and holding a fedora under one arm. Quite handsome, she notes as the thought makes her skin flush a little. Handsome father and his adorable daughter. She wonders if Anya got her hair color from her mother… ‘Made the man go to sleep.’ Yor suddenly hears and snaps out of her reverie, immediately realizing both father and daughter are staring in her direction. “Huh?”

“Wite Yow?” Anya asks excitedly.

“Oh… W-Well,” Yor blushes fiercely, waving her hands as if to wipe away the flattering comments. “Anya was the smart one by drinking so much water she had to go to the restroom. It gave me a chance to get her away from him safely.”

“Is that so,” the man asks his daughter, while still staring at Yor with a hopeful smile.

Anya nods her head with a satisfied umpf. “Yup, Yow kep lookin’ at me weiw’d and my head say get attencion, so I dwinks till i gotta pee.” She then suddenly states matter of fact. “Papa, can we keep her? She’s so kewl, can we?”

Now it’s his turn to grow flustered, rouge alighting his cheeks. “It’s not that simple,” he tries to explain. “We just met and don’t even know each other’s names.”

“Yes, it is. Papa, this is Yow Bwia,” she then turns to Yor, “Yow, this is my papa.” Anya confidently explains. “See?”

The man chuckles and puts Anya down to apologize to Yor. He takes out a business card, handing it to the woman as he introduces himself. “I’m Doctor Loid Forger, and you are Yor Briar, is that correct?”

“Oh, yes,” Yor smiles nervously as she’s still processing Anya’s statement. “That’s me. I-I hope your wife doesn’t get offended by such a remark?”

“She won’t,” he assures, “because she passed away when Anya was two from cancer.”

Yor’s hand flies up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Loid assures, reaching up to take Yor’s hand away from her mouth to show she need not be embarrassed. He then turns it over and places a chaste kiss just over the knuckles. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Briar.” Picking Anya back up, he turns to his daughter first. “It appears the restaurant will close for the evening, and they’ll interview you in the morning. You two must be hungry, shall we go get something to eat?” After his daughter nods yes enthusiastically, Loid turns to Yor. “I’d love to thank you for saving my daughter today and perhaps,” an amorous smile takes over his expression, “get to know you better.”

“Pweeze!” Anya squeals. “You can tell me more ‘bout how you stopped the bad guy!”

Oh, that’s a cunning blow! Now how can she say no and make Anya sad. They’d just gone through a traumatic experience and yet— this is truly an ending no one could’ve seen coming. Yor quietly smiles and nods despite a roiling excitement bubbling under the surface. “I’d love to join you too.”

#spy x family #twiyor #twiyor fic #modern au #not canon compliant #child abduction

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