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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children.

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today.

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed.

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me.

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you, your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers.

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige.

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him.

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some.

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable.

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile.

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place.

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea, than a light-hearted scolding.

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here.

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed.

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost.

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk.

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim.

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize.

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you.

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence.

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips.

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider.

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here.

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with.

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat.

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet.

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls.

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast.

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue.

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you.

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins.

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands.

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant.

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely.

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

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hoshifighting · 2 months

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Arranged Marriage

Synopsis: Where you and Minghao parents had this grand scheme to merge their companies by marrying you off, thinking it'd be a brilliant business move. Determined to stake your claim and keep your marriage intact, your make a bold move during a business party— planting a lipstick-stained kiss on Minghao's lips and yanking him by his tie, leaving no doubt that he's yours and yours alone.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Smut, throat fucking, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex, public make out, jealous kiss, angst, forced marriage, mentions of diets.

You're standing there in this fancy white dress, all sparkly and shiny, making your way down the aisle to where Minghao's waiting. He's looking all sharp in his suit, with his hair on point and a little smirk on his face. But as you're walking towards him, you can't help but remember the last time you two really talked was at some boring company event.

Now here you are, about to say your vows like you actually mean them. But deep down, you know it's all just a bunch of lies. You and Minghao both know it. It's all for show, to make your parents' company look good. And the worst part is, everyone at this big fancy wedding knows it too.

The party's huge, like a wedding and a business conference all mashed together. People you've never seen before are milling around, probably part of some shady business deal your parents cooked up. It's like this whole thing isn't even about love or unity anymore. It's just one big networking event disguised as a wedding.

But you go through the motions anyway, smiling and nodding like everything's perfect. You exchange vows that are as fake as the smiles plastered on both of your faces. And as the night goes on, you can't shake the feeling that this whole thing is just a sham. A pretty, expensive sham, but a sham nonetheless.

You watch as people schmooze and mingle, making deals and connections left and right. And you can't help but wonder if this is what your future holds too. A life of pretending, of smiling for the cameras while behind closed doors, it's all just business as usual.

But for now, you paste on your best fake smile and dance the night away, pretending that everything's okay. Because that's what you do when you're part of a family like yours. You put on a show, no matter what's really going on behind the scenes.

You're feeling suffocated by the crowd inside, like the tightness around your waist is almost causing claustrophobia. So you slip away to the backyard, sneaking a slice of cake from the waiters. Your mom had you on some ridiculous diet for a whole week leading up to this wedding, all so you could look "good" in your dress.

You plop down on a wooden bench, the dress spreading out in a big poof around you. Just as you're about to take a much-needed bite of cake, you're interrupted by a voice.

"Why isn't the bride inside enjoying her own party?" The voice belongs to Minghao, hands in his pockets as he stands there, looking at you.

You scoff, shooting him a look. "I'm sure no one's noticed. They're all too busy discussing the stock market or whatever." Your tone is sharp, the underlying tension between you and Minghao palpable.

Minghao snorts, clearly not impressed by your response. "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent less time worrying about your parents' company and more time actually enjoying life, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of anger rising within you. "Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Last time I checked, you were just as tangled up in all of this as I am."

Minghao's expression darkens, and for a moment, you worry you've gone too far.

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-eaten slice of wedding cake. You watch him go, feeling a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite name. Maybe it's just the champagne talking, but for a brief moment, you can't help but wonder what life would be like if you weren't tied down by expectations and obligations.

You stare at Minghao, disbelief written all over your face as you take in the sight of the one hotel room your parents booked for the both of you. A single queen-sized bed sits in the center of the room, effectively splitting the space into two halves. You shoot a glance at Minghao, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell he's just as shocked as you are.

The tension between you is palpable as you both stand there, sharing silent but deadly gazes. Finally, you break the silence, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Our parents booking us one room to 'get used' to each other. As if this whole shit wasn't enough already."

Minghao lets out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because nothing says 'happily ever after' like forcing two strangers to share a bed on their wedding night."

You bite back a retort, opting instead for a more diplomatic approach. "Look, I think it's only fair that I take the bed and you can sleep on the couch."

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And why is that?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation bubbling up inside you. "Because I'm the bride, for one," you retort, "and two, I've been on my feet all night, walking around in a dress that weighs a ton and heels that could rival skyscrapers. I think I deserve a decent night's sleep."

Minghao lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, please. Do you even know how exhausting it is to be the groom? I've been dealing with people all night, pretending to be someone I'm not, just like you."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms defiantly. "Fine," you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, "then let's settle this once and for all. Who's more tired: the bride who's been carrying around twelve kilograms of dress and heels all night, or the groom who's been putting on a show for hours on end?"

Minghao looks at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's trying not to smile. But then he shakes his head, a look of resignation crossing his face. "You win," he says, finally relenting, "you can have the bed."

You smirk triumphantly, feeling a small sense of victory despite the absurdity of the situation. And as you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

The next day rolls around, and before you even have a chance to properly wake up, you're thrown into a meeting. Brunch with both families sounds nice in theory, but when Minghao's dad starts putting papers on the table and declaring, "Let's get to what matters," you realize this isn't going to be a typical family gathering.

You try to maintain a facade of composure, but the discomfort gnaws at you like a persistent itch. So you do what you've gotten used to doing – you look down, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Minghao notices immediately, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. His cheeks flush with embarrassment from his father's directness, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet his eyes. The weight of expectation hangs heavy in the air, and you can practically taste the tension swirling around the table.

As Minghao's dad starts talking about business deals and partnerships, you try to focus on the sound of his voice rather than the sinking feeling in your stomach. But no matter how hard you try to block it out, you can't shake the feeling that you're just a pawn in someone else's game – a game you never asked to play.

You steal a glance at Minghao, but his expression is unreadable, his mask firmly in place. And in that moment, you realize just how alone you really are in this world of high-stakes deals and empty promises.

You're lounging on the couch, the TV blaring in the background, but your mind is miles away. The penthouse feels emptier than ever, despite being filled with all the trappings of luxury. You and Minghao live under the same roof, yet it feels like you might as well be living on opposite ends of the earth. Separate rooms, separate lives, with only a perfunctory "good morning" or "good night" exchanged between you.

The loneliness weighs heavy on your chest, suffocating you with its presence. You long for something more, something real, but it feels like an impossible dream in this gilded cage you've found yourself trapped in.

You're lost in the numbing glow of the television when your phone buzzes with a notification. It's Minghao, informing you of a press conference he's scheduled for later that night. You furrow your brow, puzzled by the sudden announcement.

But it's his last message from the previous night that catches your attention. "Can you at least put on your best smile tonight?" he'd asked, a request that feels more like a demand. And you can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his presumption.

You make your way to his room, finding him hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watch him for a moment before speaking up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Put on my best smile? What's that supposed to mean?"

Minghao looks up from his computer, his expression unreadable. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he replies coolly, his tone clipped. "We both know how important appearances are in our world. So why not make an effort for once?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you. "I think you mean that you want me to play the dutiful wife once again, to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything's fine," you snap, the bitterness seeping into your words.

Minghao's jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to argue back. But then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly tired and defeated. "Look, I know this isn't what either of us wanted," he says, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "But it's what we have to do. For our families, for the company."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is that really all that matters to you? The company? "But fine," you say through clenched teeth, pushing yourself away from the doorframe. "I'll put on my best smile tonight. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

You sit in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car, your gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. The skyscrapers blur into a haze of steel and glass, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside your mind.

Minghao breaks the silence with a casual remark, his tone tinged with amusement. "You don't look like someone who agreed to the terms of our agreement," he observes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You let out a frustrated huff, tearing your eyes away from the window to glare at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I need some time before I can fully commit to this whole acting profession," you retort, your words dripping with bitterness.

Minghao presses his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at your expense. The corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he looks away, pretending to be absorbed in the passing scenery.

You bristle at his reaction, feeling a surge of indignation coursing through you. "What's so funny?" you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.

Minghao shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he replies casually, his tone disarmingly nonchalant. "I mean, take all the time you need… Just try not to look too pitiful when we walk through those doors."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the chauffeur stops and opens the door for you, signaling your arrival at the event, Minghao's voice cuts through the silence.

"Hand," he says simply, holding out his hand towards you.

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. "Excuse me?" you reply, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk as he repeats himself, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I said, hand," he repeats, his tone playful yet insistent.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his audacity, but begrudgingly, you reach out and grab his hand, almost aggressively. His grin widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the touch surprisingly delicate despite the underlying tension between you.

As you and Minghao step into the event, hand in hand, you can feel the weight of your parents' surprised stares on you. Their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the sight of you two holding hands, a rare display of unity between the two families.

Minghao squeezes your hand gently, a small smirk playing on his lips as he catches your parents' reaction. "See?" he murmurs softly, leaning in close to you. "It's easy. A little thing like this makes them happy."

You can't help but feel a surge of resentment bubbling up inside you at his words. Easy for him to say, you think bitterly. He's always been the one who effortlessly falls into line, who knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants.

But despite your inner turmoil, you force a tight smile and nod in agreement, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your parents. "Yeah, easy," you echo, your voice strained as you try to keep up the facade.

As the long-winded speeches from the ambassadors drone on, you find yourself sinking deeper into your chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. Minghao leans in close, his voice a soft whisper against your ear as he asks if you want something from the bar. You shake your head, declining his offer with a tired sigh.

He nods in understanding and excuses himself, disappearing into the crowd for a moment. But as the minutes drag on and the speech finally reaches its conclusion, Minghao still hasn't returned. Your eyes scan the room, searching for any sign of him, and that's when you spot her – a woman leaning in close to him, her body language oozing with flirtation.

Your stomach churns with a mix of anger and disbelief. What does she think she's doing? That's your husband she's flirting with, for crying out loud. You glance down at your wedding ring, then back at Minghao, then down at your ring again, the weight of it heavy on your finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stand up from the table, your movements cautious as you make your way over to them. Fuck, you hate that you're doing this right now, but you can't just sit idly by while some random woman tries to make a move on your husband.

Minghao's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of your determined gaze, and for a brief moment, you almost feel guilty for interrupting. But then you remember who you are – his wife – and the guilt fades away, replaced by a steely resolve.

"I have a wife," Minghao's voice cuts through the air, firm and unwavering, as you approach him and the woman who's been flirting with him. His words send a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily halting your steps.

But before you can even react, Minghao continues, his tone tinged with irritation, "And she's storming over here, so please, just leave me alone."

"Hi, Hao," you greet Minghao as you finally reach him, unable to hide the hint of irritation in your voice. "You took a long time. What happened?"

Minghao's eyes widen slightly at your abrupt approach, and he stammers for a moment before the woman beside him interjects, "Oh, she's your friend?"

Minghao's response is immediate and almost defensive. "No, I don't know her," he says quickly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

You can't help but suppress a smirk at his awkwardness, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at seeing him squirm. "Nice to meet you," you say smoothly, extending your hand to the woman. "I'm Mrs. Xu."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise as she takes your hand, clearly caught off guard by your assertive introduction. "Oh, um, nice to meet you too," she replies, her voice slightly shaky.

You turn your attention back to Minghao, noting the relief in his eyes as you come to his "rescue." Poor Minghao, you think to yourself, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him despite your earlier annoyance. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, and the sight of you coming to his aid seems to help him breathe a little easier.

The woman walks away, leaving you and Minghao standing there in the aftermath of the awkward encounter. You turn to him, your expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Come on, Minghao," you begin, your voice low but firm. "You need to know how to handle situations like that. What if people who know our family saw that? It could cause all sorts of rumors and complications."

Minghao's jaw tightens as he meets your gaze, a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. "I didn't ask for her to approach me," he retorts, his tone defensive. "I told her I have a wife. What more do you want from me?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your temper in check. "I just want you to be more aware of how your actions reflect on both of us," you reply, your voice tinged with exasperation. "We're married, Minghao. That means we have to think about each other's reputations and how our behavior affects them."

Minghao's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a stubborn set to his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know that," he says, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "But sometimes things happen, and I can't control them."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of frustration rising within you. "That's not an excuse, Minghao," you say firmly. "We both have to do better if we want this marriage to work. We have to be a team."

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk of his own, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he steps closer to you. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Xu?" he replies, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "And what exactly would it take for me to earn back the privilege of being called by my first name?"

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his cheekiness. "Maybe if you stopped getting yourself into awkward situations with random women at parties," you shoot back, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful jab.

Minghao feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Hey now, that wasn't entirely my fault," he protests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, you were the one who came to my rescue, remember?"

Minghao's playful grin falters as you shoot him a pointed look, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Am I wrong now? What should I do then?" you challenge, your tone laced with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression sheepish as he searches for an answer. "You need to make them know I'm your husband," he suggests vaguely, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

You narrow your gaze, a surge of determination coursing through you as you follow his line of sight to the woman who had been eyeing him earlier. She's still watching him, her gaze lingering a little too long for your liking.

"Fine then," you declare, your jaw set in determination. Without another word, you reach out and grab Minghao by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Before he can protest, you press your lips to his in a firm, possessive kiss.

For a moment, Minghao freezes, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But then, as if realizing what's happening, he responds eagerly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as the kiss deepens.

You trail kisses along his neck, feeling a low hum of satisfaction reverberate through him. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as you continue to explore the sensitive skin of his neck with your lips.

When you pull back slightly, his eyes meet yours, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. You reach up and gently tug on his bottom lip, a silent invitation for him to surrender completely to the passion between you.

Minghao's lips part in response, his eyes darkening with desire as he leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both.

As you finally break the kiss, your lips swollen and tingling with the taste of him, you look at his face, satisfied with your handiwork. His lips, jaw, and neck are adorned with smudges of your red lipstick, a visible testament that being arranged or not, he is your husband.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reach out and grab Minghao by the tie, tugging him gently but firmly in the direction of the exit. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but he follows your lead without hesitation.

As you walk through the party, you make no effort to hide the fact that you're leading Minghao out by his tie. You want everyone to see, especially that woman who dared to flirt with him earlier. With each step, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you're marking your territory, making it abundantly clear to anyone watching that Minghao belongs to you.

People turn to look as you pass by, their curious glances met with a confident smile from you and a sheepish grin from Minghao. You hold your head high, your grip on his tie unwavering as you guide him through the crowd.

Finally, you reach the exit, and with one last glance around the room, you pull Minghao outside, the cool night air washing over you both. Alone at last, you turn to him with a victorious smirk.

"Well, that was fun," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you release his tie. "But I think we've made our point. Shall we get out of here?"

Minghao chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he takes your hand in his. "Absolutely," he replies, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "Anywhere you want to go, Mrs. Xu."

As soon as you step through the door of your home, you're wrapped up in a frenzy of passionate kisses with Minghao. Clothes, shoes, and his tie fly off haphazardly as you stumble towards the nearest surface, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Between kisses, Minghao pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I didn't know you were that jealous," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hiss in response, your breath catching in your throat as his lips trail along your skin. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, your voice tinged with frustration. "I was just...rescuing you, you bastard!"

Minghao laughs at your outburst, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, just like a predator," he teases, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound confidence.

You scoff at his comment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You've seen nothing yet," you reply, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Minghao's eyes light up with excitement as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah," you confirm with a smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

But then, his hand moves to the top of your head, gently guiding you downwards until your knees find the ground. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and anticipation, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you eagerly await his next move.

With a shaky breath, Minghao pulls himself free from his pants, his cock standing proudly before you. You wrap your hand around it, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your touch. A wicked grin plays at your lips as you tap the tip of his cock against your face, biting your lip in anticipation.

Minghao lets out a shaky moan at the provocative sight before him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. "Fuck, you're so damn sexy," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You smirk up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you tease him with your lips. "Mmm, maybe," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me, Minghao."

His breath hitches as he meets your gaze, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you closer to him. "I want you more than anything," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "I need you, baby. Please, show me how much you want me too."

You eagerly lower your mouth onto Minghao's throbbing cock, sucking greedily as you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. You can feel him thrusting his hips, the need for more driving him to move against you.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, giving him the freedom to move as he pleases. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he sets the pace, his hips rocking against you in a rhythm of his own making.

As you take him deeper, you close your eyes, relaxing your jaw to accommodate his length. Minghao's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his words a gentle reminder of his concern for your well-being.

"Tap if you need to breathe," he murmurs, his hand tightening in your ponytail as he continues to move his hips.

You press your hand against his thigh in affirmation, letting him know that you're okay as you continue to take him deeper, your throat working to accommodate his length. Minghao lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips moving in tandem with your movements as you both chase the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Between thrusts, Minghao's voice fills the air with a husky whisper. "God, you feel so fucking good," he moans, his words driving you to take him even deeper. "You're amazing, baby. Just keep going, just like that."

As Minghao's cock throbs in your mouth, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Drool drips from your chin, a testament to your eagerness and arousal, as you continue to take him deeper, your mouth working tirelessly to please him.

With each throb of his cock, you can feel the tension building, the heat of his arousal radiating through you. Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in a haze of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Minghao's cock pulses in your mouth, you know that you've pushed him to the edge, his release imminent. With one final throb, he cries out your name, his body tensing as he spills his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him. You moan softly as Minghao's lips meet yours again, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he slowly guides you towards his room.

As you fall onto the bed, Minghao's fingers trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath his touch, unable to hide your arousal as he gazes down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so wet…" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

Minghao's lips curl into a smug grin as his fingers trailing lower until they reach the damp fabric of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he begins to peel them away, revealing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he whispers, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leans in close. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

You arch your back, aching for his touch as you meet his gaze with a sultry smirk. "I want your fingers inside me, Minghao" you breathe, your voice dripping with desire. "I want you to make me come so fucking hard"

Minghao's eyes darken with lust as he hears your words, his fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he plunges his slender fingers deep inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, he finds it – that deep spot that sends electric jolts shooting through you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in response, a desperate attempt to hold your orgasm.

But Minghao isn't finished yet. With a wicked grin, he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers his intentions. "You're not going to cum yet," he murmurs. "Let me hit that spot with my cock, then you can cream around it as much as you want."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, with the promise of what's going to come. With a nod of agreement, you bite your lip in anticipation, eager for the moment when Minghao will fuck you with his cock.

As Minghao positions himself above you, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of pleasure to come, you sneak a peek at his cock. It's long, with bulging veins and dripping with pre-cum, making it clear he's rock hard and ready to go. The contrast with his slender body just makes it look even bigger.

Before you can even think of a response, Minghao speaks up, his voice low and husky. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can get a word out, his cock is stretching you out, leaving you breathless and speechless as he fills you completely.

As soon as Minghao finds your g'spot, your pussy immediately tightens around him, milking him with such intensity that he has to hold himself back from coming right then and there. His pretty moans only serve to heighten your own arousal, making it even harder for you to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he tries to control himself. He hopes that you'll stop clenching, but as soon as he hits that spot again, he hisses in response, the sensation driving him wild.

Realizing that he's in danger of cumming too early, Minghao decides to focus on fucking you in just the right way, hitting that spot with precision and intensity. He squirms, desperate for you to climax first, knowing that your pleasure will only fuel his own.

With each thrust, each movement, the pleasure builds between you, reaching a fever pitch that threatens to consume you both. Minghao's hips move in a steady rhythm, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, his own pleasure mounting with each passing second.

And then, finally, it happens. You reach the peak of ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as pleasure washes over you in relentless waves. Your pussy clenches around Minghao's cock, milking him for all he's worth as he loses control, his own release crashing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a tired groan, Minghao collapses beside you, his body spent from the intensity of your shared passion. He turns to you with a lazy smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

"If I'd known all it took to get you to kiss me was making you jealous, I would've done it ages ago," he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "Imagine if you were then" he scoffs, his tone teasing. "I don't think we'd be here right now if you weren't just a little bit jealous."

You huff in mock indignation, but deep down, you know he's right.

ou nudge Minghao playfully, a smile dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for you, a little jealousy was all it took," you quip, teasing him.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you. "I guess I'll have to remember that for next time," he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, so there's going to be a next time now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Minghao grins, leaning in closer to you. "Count on it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he brushes his lips against yours.

1K notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐊 𝐀𝐓

➯ HARRY’S GROWN IN SOME PLACES AND Y/N IS MORE THAN OBSESSED. ✰ sexual content. size kink. daddy kink. degradation. creampie. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 5k

Harry was changing.

And he had been for a while. Slowly but surely—bit by bit—and all Y/N could do was sit back and watch.

Y/N thinks (and she knows she’s biased because, well, she loves him more than life itself, but still thinks) that Harry will always be the most beautiful man in any room. No matter his age, or the clothes he wears, or the facial expressions his features are presenting, he will be pretty personified to her.

And she never thought he could look better. Because he always looked like he’d been handcrafted, slaved away at for hours to achieve the sharp line of his jaw or the divine slope of his nose.

But now he was changing.

And Y/N was wrong.

Another thing she believes (or had believed) is that being with Harry removed any and all of her preferences when it comes to attraction. No matter the way he looked, Y/N loved it—would never change a thing—would never think that maybe that shirt would look better if his chest hair was thicker or that those trousers would be sexier if his thighs were bigger, or that that suit would be more impressive if he was taller.

Because Harry was visually stunning, always. And even if in the past, Y/N might have been more attracted to a rugged beard, or a different hairstyle, or a specific type of dress sense, then all of that went out of the window when she met Harry.

But now, Y/N was being proven wrong.

She supposes it was a small change at first, so subtle that she didn’t even notice—because Harry had always been strong, even if it didn’t necessarily show and he’d never hesitated to throw Y/N about whichever way he pleased (which could tend to be an insecurity of hers at times).

When she did start to notice though… Nothing else could catch her attention. Whenever he walked into the room her eyes would drift, and whenever she was looking at him whilst he spoke, she’d be itching to lower her gaze and feel her pupils dilate.

Harry didn’t understand at first. He had picked up on her recent lack of concentration, and of course he had, he was attentive—but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was distracting her so much.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It’s when the weather starts to warm up enough to get his arms out that it clicks.

And that’s what he’s smiling about now, as he hauls patio furniture about and potters around—in a black tank and highlighter yellow short shorts—doing all the garden jobs that had been ignored during the winter and spring. Admittedly with much more flexing than is necessary—after his minx of a girlfriend reacts far too excitedly at the delivery of a new pod chair, and squeezes her thighs together in anticipation, before proceeding to lounge around in her shortest of sundresses with the horniest of gazes as she watches him work.

Harry’s trying to be subtle about his amusement, wanting to play with her for as long as he can now that he knows why she’s been drooling for him more than usual. But his tummy is fluttering with excitement as he schemes the best way to rile her up.

He thinks she’s probably already wet, if the clenching of her thighs is anything to go by as she sits in the pod chair she watched him assemble; her naked legs swinging gently. And he’s worked up quite the sweat, out in the sun for a while already—droplets starting to trickle down his back.

So he thinks it only natural to remove his shirt, biceps straining as he reaches behind him to tug the material over his head.

Y/N’s breath hitches. No matter how many times she sees Harry’s body, it makes her go all silly without fail. And the same happens now as his glistening, tanned, ink-covered torso is revealed and her eyes start to fight over which part of him to gawk at first.

He’s big. Bigger than he’s ever been—and Y/N must send his PT some flowers or something because she’s sure she’s never been so turned on in her life and that deserves a thank you, doesn’t it?

Harry’s chest rises and falls gently, pecs dusted in sweat-soaked hair that Y/N has never wanted to lick more. She knows she can stare; is well past the point in their relationship to care about being caught—wants to get caught even, to aid his teasing that does so much to her insides. A drop of sweat trickles in between his abs and Y/N always swore she didn’t care for the definition of those muscles, but on Harry… he looks like the posterboy for all pornstars. Everyone’s wet dream, everyone’s type, everyone’s secret fantasy.

Yet, it’s still his arms that stun her the most. She’s not sure why—if it’s solely because of some undiscovered size kink or how obviously he could overpower her—there might not be any deeper meaning other than looking sexy and strong. Maybe it’s because they’re so big that they bulge with every movement, muscles contracting and golden, tattooed skin stretching. Maybe it’s the fine hair that covers his forearms—that have also become considerably thick and meaty. Y/N has lost count of the amount of times she’s wished to sink her teeth into them. Especially when a particular vein or tendon makes itself prominent. Paired with the fact that she has always been undeniably turned on by his hands and Y/N doesn’t stand a chance.

It’s like the man she’s known, who was already completely and utterly everything she could ever want, has been multiplied by ten. And now Y/N is left to try and function as a normal human being with this Greek god of a man who has arms bigger than her head.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“—I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Y/N flinches, eyes shooting up to Harry’s and away from his body.

“Oh, so now you listen to me,” he rolls his eyes, smirk obvious.

“That’s not funny, Harry.” Y/N frowns, heart going a million beats a second. “Why would you say that, you dick.” She hoists herself out of the chair and storms towards the patio doors. With no way she’d ever make it very far, as Harry drops the tools he was using to assemble a coffee table and hastily swoops in behind Y/N—wrapping her up in the things that got her into this position in the first place.

Her back meets his chest. His bare chest. And his face meets her neck, stubble tickling her skin. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He’s smiling. Y/N feels his arms tighten around her waist. “You weren’t listening t’me, were you?”

She huffs and says, “No,” in a tone that Harry never appreciates.

“You know I don’t like it when you ignore me. I’m far too needy, aren’t I?”

Y/N hums something incomprehensible, ashamed by her pathetic reaction to such a basic body part.

“C’mon, come back. Y’givin’ me something pretty to look at whilst I work.” Harry pinches her waist and she can’t help but shriek a laugh, body betraying her when his fingers dig in.

“You weren’t even looking at me,” Y/N scoffs, reluctantly making her way back to her chair as Harry finishes up on the floor.

“How would you know?” His arms bulge as he screws the table together. “Weren’t exactly staring at m’face, were you, love?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, fluffing up her dress around her thighs.

“I’ve noticed something recently,” Harry starts, admiring his handiwork before getting to his feet and making his way over to Y/N. He picks up a previously ignored bottle of sun tan lotion on his way. “Or, you’ve noticed something, I suppose.”

He kneels before her, hands steadying the gentle swaying of the chair before he smooths them down her legs and props her foot up on his thigh. Y/N pretends to not have a clue. It makes her belly tingle with juvenile excitement.

“What do you mean?”

Harry pops the bottle open and generously squeezes the lotion into his palm. It’s cold as it meets Y/N’s calf, and she twitches a little. But Harry’s hands are warm; he already knows that thirty seconds of this will have her melting into him.

“You think I don’t see the way you’ve been looking at me lately?” He massages the muscle in his palms and Y/N sighs blissfully.

“I always look at you the same, my love,” she exhales.

“Hm? And how’s that?”

“Like you’re the only man in the world.”

Harry pinches her thigh and Y/N yelps. “Don’t get all soppy on me now. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” and like the sadist that he is, Harry subtly flexes his arms—covertly enough that it looks like a completely involuntary twitch of the muscles. But Y/N’s eyes snap there regardless, and Harry smiles, vast palms moving up higher on her leg as he applies more lotion and starts on her thigh.

“I don’t know, Harry. Why would I look at you different? What’s different about you?” Her voice holds the tiniest of inflections that only Harry would notice means she’s being playful. And it riles him up some.

“Okay, baby. If that’s how you wanna play.” Harry switches legs. He’s much less slow and tender, digging his fingers into her calf and holding firmly when she tries to pull away. The strength he exhibits only has Y/N’s eyes even more trained to his body. When he gets to her thigh he pushes her dress up until her underwear peeks out and delivers a harsh, unexpected slap to the inside—purposely where it hurts a little. Y/N gasps and her hips push up. Harry pays her no mind, applying more lotion before rubbing it in—far too high under her dress where no sun is reaching—and Y/N can see where this is going. Which Harry is coming out.

It all happens so quickly; Harry’s hand pushing against her collarbones to angle her awkwardly against the deep back of the chair, slumping her body surely unattractively, before flipping her dress up higher and tugging her to the edge. His breath fans against her warmth, cruel eyes looking up at Y/N in her stunned state. He leans down and his arms curl under her thighs, hands resting atop and squeezing them tauntingly. God, she can feel his biceps tensing against her.

He’s right there. Lips ghosting across where she needs him. Close enough to barely peek his tongue out and have it meet. Right there. And then he’s gone. Shrugging her legs off his arms and standing up, making some comment about how they need to buy some more sun tan lotion as he goes to walk inside.

Y/N is scrambling off the chair. “Fuck you!” Her hand shoots out and grabs Harry’s wrist. Immediately he spins and flinches away from her, replacing her grip with his own and twisting her arm behind her back. Her chest pushes into him as he leans down.

“You think I haven’t noticed how much of a brat you’ve become?” His voice slicks down her thighs. Oh. “Never fucking listen to me anymore,” she tries to reach for his waist but he twists that arm behind her as well until he’s holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. He leans down further so it’s even harder for her to balance as she bends back. “Just drool over me like a needy slut, don’t you?” Y/N whimpers, the only thing she can do is look up at him. “You’ve been treating me like a piece of meat—staring until your pretty cunt is dripping, right? I can treat you like a piece of meat too, sweetheart.”

“Shut up,” she pouts, before whining, “want—you,” neck aching from the angle she’s bent at. Harry laughs, pulling her hair a little for being a brat, before ghosting his mouth across hers.

“I know. Made that pretty fucking obvious, you silly girl.” He plucks at her bottom lip with his thumb. “You don’t need my cock to be fucked dumb, do you, baby? That little head of yours is always empty.” He squeezes her cheeks together with his fingers. Harry smiles down at his girl’s wide doe eyes staring up at him, completely at his disposal. “Speak.”

“I’m empty,” Y/N nods, giving up her attitude, “need you.” And that’s not what Harry meant but it’s close enough.

“I don’t think you deserve it,” he whispers into her mouth—and then he’s standing behind her, wrists still firmly in his grasp as he shuffles them closer to the windows. The sun glares down, casting a clear reflection of the both of them. Of Harry wrapping his forearm around Y/N’s collarbones, forcing her back to arch. “You haven’t been honest with me,” the entirety of his body is pressed against the back of her. It has her mind scrambling. “You’re not good.”

It’s a low blow. One assured to have Y/N begging and pleading in no time; desperate to make him happy, and desperate to be pleasured.

“I’m…sorry,” she frowns, eyes fixated on the reflection of their bodies. “Wanna be good f’you.” Harry squeezes her wrists as a warning to keep them behind her back before letting go to wrap his other arm around her waist—excited himself by the way he engulfs her. He bends down, causing Y/N to go with him, and the weight in his shorts is growing heavier by the second as they just look at themselves.

Y/N stops herself from wiggling back; doesn’t want to misbehave for a second—not anymore. “Please. All I think about is you, Harry. A-all the time,” her breathing is laboured and her underwear is suffocating.

And this is how he gets her. “What do you think about?” He turns his face into her shoulder, nudging her sleeve off with his nose before dotting distracting kisses along her skin.

Y/N hesitates. This is what the game was all about. Pretending there was no reason for her gawking. She’s stubborn. But so is Harry. The arm around her collarbones shifts until his large hand is cupping her throat. Y/N’s knees nearly buckle right then and there. Her head tips back a little against him but he squeezes the sides of her neck, right where the blood is fighting to flow, and forces her to look back at the reflection.

“Tell me.” His voice is so deep, so low; the vibrations spread through her like treacle. “Look at me,” he squeezes again, “and tell me.”

He doesn’t ease up around her throat so her words are tight. His arm moves down to her hips. “You’ve got…so…big,” she whimpers. “Everywhere.” Harry’s hips twitch, dying to rut against her ass. But instead, with teasing fingers he lifts the hem of her dress. Up and up until he can stuff it between his hand and her throat, obsessed with the way her bare stomach rises and falls at a rapid pace.

Y/N’s flimsy panties don’t stand a chance—the once pale pink now a much darker hue in the place she needs him most. But Harry wouldn’t be so kind. He makes her think he’s going to rub on her like she wants, middle finger trailing over her clit with a feather-light touch. Barely there but still enough to make her twitch. He does it again—a small circle—before dipping lower, pushing in her underwear and feeling it slick against her.

And then he rears his hand back, too quickly for Y/N to realise, and brings it back down to her clit in a harsh, tight slap. She buckles and writhes, held up solely by the hand around her throat as Harry trails his fingers along the inside of her thigh. His smirk tickles against her shoulder.

“Har—Harry!” she gasps, unable to stop her body from moving against him now, not whilst she’s thrumming.

“I’m big, yeah? Too big for you, surely. Look at the way I swallow you up.” Oh, and she is. With half-lidded eyes and shallow breaths.

“Yes, I love it, Harry. I love it,” her hips search for his hand and he pushes her against him, spanning across her mound.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” Another squeeze around her throat. “Be good.”

She tries—so hard—as Harry starts to suck and bite marks into her skin. “Arms, it’s your arms,” she breathes, head foggier and foggier by the second. He eases up a little when she starts to slump, tracing his thumb across her lips.

“What about them?” Fingers slip inside her underwear; a reward for using her words. Even as he starts rubbing small circles, he knows she’ll cum quickly.

“So hot, Harry. And big.”

He laughs, “Y’already said that. Just so hot and big, aren’t I?” The narcissist in him goes wild, cock twitching in his shorts. And he allows himself one rut against her, just to take the edge off. But Y/N wants more—of course she does—and she’s starting to make all sorts of pretty noises as he rubs her clit. So Harry keeps moving, sure that the feel of him against her is propelling her towards her orgasm whilst he’s barely teasing himself.

“You’ve got a slutty pussy, Y/N,” he tightens his hand around her throat once more, lips brushing her ear. “Drenched because your boyfriend can manhandle you, yeah? I could do anything to you ‘n’ you’d let me, wouldn’t you? Because you’re so desperate for it.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N nods shakily. She’s trying to keep her eyes on their reflection, to see Harry’s muscles work as his fingers hide in her underwear, and the way his hips push into her ass.

“Tell me.”

“Want you to—manhandle me…use me—need t’cum.” She’s building up, can feel as Harry smears her arousal around in a mess before rubbing harder on her clit. And faster.

“You g’na cum?” Faster.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please.” He lets her throw her head back, lets her reach the edge, whimpering and whining just as she starts to let go.

And then he’s gone. Harry rips his hand from her pussy and shoves his glistening fingers in her mouth before she can talk. Y/N cries around them, shaking her head in a desperate plea.

“Mmph—no!—Please,” she tries, but how could Harry ever understand what she wants?

He takes hold of her wrists again and bends her forward by her waist, kicking her legs open wider. She’s completely held up by him; if he were to let go, she would topple straight over, no doubt about it.

With a heavy hand, Harry pushes her dress up and over her ass and delivers a well-connecting smack to the rounded flesh. Y/N mewls, legs shaking in surprise. It’s harder to maintain her eye contact with the window at this angle, especially when all she wants is to lull her head like she’s weightless. Harry wastes no time in tugging her underwear halfway down her thighs. Finds it satisfying to keep her somewhat immobilised.

And Y/N couldn’t care less, as soon as she feels Harry pulling himself out and sinking into her—she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if their house was burning.

He barely lets her adjust, and no matter how wet she is Harry’s always a stretch. A deep inhale, body stilling kind of stretch. And once she’s full and his pelvis pushes against her bum and they both allow for a second of joint ecstasy at being as close as possible once again, Harry is quick to treat her the way she so desperately wants.

His other hand comes up to her hair, pulling it sharply so Y/N’s neck bends back. “Look. Watch as I fuck you.” Incomprehensible noises are forced from her throat, jaw hanging looser with each inch that Harry invades. She’s never been more grateful to have a secluded garden.

The sight before her rivals one from a porn film—fitting for her sex god of a boyfriend; she could only hope to look pretty enough next to him. Her body bent forward, neck stretched and inviting, back arching with the force of her arms behind her back. Thighs open just enough to fit Harry’s cock into her weepy hole, flesh threatening to rip the underwear that controls their freedom.

Occasionally the sun will reflect just right and Y/N will notice the glistening of her wetness spread across her mound. Though her eyes soon fall shut with the strength of Harry’s thrusts, unrelenting and point-proving.

“Fuck. Can feel you squeezin’ already.” His words shoot straight to her clit, tingling and buzzing. “So easy, aren’t you, pet?” Y/N nods fruitlessly. “I shouldn’t let you finish,” he threatens against her ear. “Should fill you up with my cum, have you serve your purpose and then thank me for it.”

She pulsates at the thought, at the warmth of feeling him drip down her thighs. Sometimes dripping around the sides of his prick if Harry’s particularly wound up and has a few rounds in him.

“Please,” Y/N cries, sweat beading at her hairline.

Harry groans into her jaw, hips meeting her ass bruisingly. “Yeah? Filthy girl, jus’ my hole, aren’t you?”

“Mhm! Please cum in me, please,” Y/N tries to turn her head, nose bumping into his cheek. She wants a kiss but her brain cannot possibly communicate that to her mouth as it hangs open.

The sounds of skin meeting skin ring in her ears and her throat threatens to cry perfectly timed noises with each thrust. And she’s not sure when it happened but her tits are out of her dress and Harry’s letting go of her hair to palm one roughly as he starts to breathe heavier and heavier.

Body leaden, Y/N’s head falls back to his shoulder and her eyes peel open slightly, watching Harry’s face contort beautifully from above her. She wants it so bad—knows that he’ll always make her finish regardless—needs to walk around in her summer dress and cum-soaked panties. “Please, Daddy. Cum in me.”

The name has Harry groaning, hips stuttering and stilling against her as he paints long, thick stripes inside Y/N. “Thank you!” She cries, his release stimulating her like nothing else. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Despite Harry being the one with orgasm heavy bones, Y/N crumbles, knees buckling as she takes them both to the floor. He braces her fall, arm strong around her waist. His cock stays twitching inside of her, still hard, and he angles her ass into the air as he stands on his knees astride her legs.

“You good, baby?” Harry smooths a hand up her back, pushing her dress out of the way.

Y/N’s arms stretch above her, content to be lying on the hard floor. “Yeah, really good. Thank you, Daddy.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, she’s under. “You wanna cum?”

“Am I allowed? I said some bad things to you.”

“That’s okay. I want you to squeeze on my cock ‘n’ let me fuck my cum into you. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods nastily, head turned to the side on the concrete. He’d take care of her later.

“Good girl, nice ‘n’ tight, f’me.”

The noise of their arousal mixing together, probed by Harry’s cock is one he’ll replay in desperate moments alone. Squelching and slicking as he starts up his rough pace once again. Y/N contracts around him in quick, spasming motions—hips attempting to push back from her awkward position. Her tummy is hot and her clit is painfully untouched; she’s sure she’d grind it on the floor if she could reach but Harry’s hands are firm on her hips, angling her just the way he likes as he pounds into her tight hole.

Harry wishes he had his phone to hand—would take enough pictures of the sight before him to last forever. His cum is starting to leak out the sides, dripping down to Y/N’s clit and slicking up his cock. The mess of it all has his eyes rolling back.

“God, y’just perfect. Wanna keep you like this forever. Make you sticky with my cum, then maybe take you out and watch you try to ignore the feeling of it dripping out of you.” Harry slaps her ass and moans as she spasms around him, hands pulling her cheeks apart to reveal her other hole. “Wanna mark you everywhere. Especially here.” He thumbs over the puckered skin. “Fill you up and push in every drop, then give you a pretty plug so it stays inside all day.” Y/N’s shaking, eyes clenched shut and pussy quivering. All Harry has to do is reach around and start rubbing tight circles into her clit and she’s gone.

“Harry! I’m cumming, I’m cumming—D-daddy, thank you.” Harry leans over her back, kissing the side of her face and not slowing down for a second.

“Gimme another,” he whispers, speeding up his thrusts and slapping her clit one, two, three times, vibrations elongating her orgasm and sending her straight into her second one. Harry pulls back, regretfully pulling out for a moment to flip Y/N over and tug her flush against him. He wraps her thighs around his waist and guides her arms around his neck, endeared by her fucked out expression. “Doing so good, honey.” She smiles, eyes closing and nuzzling her face into his neck. Harry thinks if he wasn’t already hard, that smile alone would’ve given him a love boner.

“Jus’ sit all pretty, Daddy’s got you.”

He holds her hips securely, palms encompassing miles of skin, and lifts her just enough to start fucking up into her cunt. Their cum will surely make a mess in their laps but he minds none—goes faster at the very thought, even. Thinks about scooping it up with his fingers and feeding it to Y/N, and then leaning in to get a taste of them together, moaning into her mouth and suckling at her lips like a starved man.

As if she can read his mind, Y/N starts nibbling at his skin, laving her tongue over the drops of sweat that trickle down his neck. Then she pulls back just enough to wilt against his mouth, lips barely responsive but Harry kisses her with all he’s got. And she’s close again, when her heavy hand trails down to start rubbing at her swollen, cum-drenched clit much daintier than Harry had.

“F-feels so good,” she whines against his mouth, happy to let Harry lick against her tongue, “love you.”

Harry whimpers, “G-god, I love you too. So much, you’re so good, I love you.” Y/N rubs harder, pussy tightening—and Harry fucks harder as they both rest their foreheads on eachother’s shoulders. With her other hand, Y/N holds his bicep, squeezing and scratching as much as she pleases. She barely covers the muscle and Harry can’t help but smile as his orgasm rushes closer.

It’s when she whispers, words garbled and strained, that Harry tips over the edge. “F-fuck me so good, s-so good. G’na make me pregnant—‘n’ full of you.” And it’s his warm spurts that have Y/N cumming as well, pulsating around Harry as she milks him dry. He cums a lot, and the more he does, the longer Y/N’s orgasm lasts—they melt against one another in a mess of moans and gentle rutting, sweaty skin sticking them together.

Y/N peels her hand from Harry’s arm, seeing the crescent moons she’s left behind and looking up at him guiltily. He smiles, pushing her hair away from her face and leaning down to kiss her nose.

“Felt good,” he promises. “Now I know how much you like them, you can do whatever you want.”

Y/N whines, biting his shoulder playfully. “Shower now, please. We’re gross.”

Harry hums, staying tucked inside and holding her tight to him as he stands on nearly wobbly legs. “Just so you know, if we shower together, I will be naked. Will you be able to contain yourself at the sight of my big, sexy arms?”

She sinks her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and tugs. “Shut up. They’re not even that big.”

“Okay, my love. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #dom!harry #domrry #daddy!harry #harry styles x reader #writing

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bucketofpaint · 4 months

Text

1 2 3 4

The baby justice, or whoever they were, were starting to get on Danny's nerves. Well, basically, everything did that currently, but not as much they did.

Don't get him wrong. He understood what it was like to be a teen hero, and he respected them for it. But it didn't stop him from immediately groaning when he ran into bird boy and arrow girl.

It started out a pretty okay day. He got a passing score on a test, and it had been a slow work, which meant he'd could go home early. He had got to his trashy apartment and immediately passed out. although Danny wished that he'd could sleep till next week, a few extra hours were still much appreciated.

But fate had other plans. Danny had woken up late at night in a cold sweat, flashs of green and loud yelling, repeating in his head over and over. Danny got up and made his way to the window. He needed to get some air and to clear his head.

_____________

" I'm tired of just sitting here." Artemis complained, fiddling with one of her arrows absencemimdly.

" we need to be ready for anyone that leaves the building." Robin snapped back, not taking his eyes off of the building below.

Artemis already knew this, of course, but it didn't change the fact that she would rather be in the building, actually fighting instead of just waiting.

Her and Robin were stationed on the adjacent building to the one that was the base for a human trafficking scheme. The reason for them being outside and not inside with the others was because, apparently, the top people of this scheme were known flight risks.

____________

Danny drifted through the night sky, trying not to remember his nightmare. Trying and failing. He couldn't help it. The images just kept popping up in his head. mostly ones of his parents' faces filled with disgust, rage, and just pure hatred,while they tried to blast him to bits.

Danny gets pulled out of his head by the sound of a whisper argument taking place on the rooftop below. Danny looks down and is immediately regretting going outside. The two people arguing were members from Young Justice because, of course, they were. If Danny didn't know any better, these run-ins were starting to seem like no coincidence. He definitely wouldn't put it past CW.

If Danny remembered right, the two people were Robin and Artemis. It looked like the two were on a stake out or something. They kept bickering back and forth, seemingly unaware of the goon that started to creep up behind them. Danny watched and prepared himself in the case he needed to step in.

When the goon was about a foot behind them, Robin swung around and swiftly knocked the guy out. But as soon as he did, multiple men started popping up. Some jumped from the next roof, others climbing up the sides.

Robin and Artemis seemed to have it handled. Things quickly went down after the goons pulled out wepons that shot similar green blasts that left smoldering spots.

It wasn't long before the duo was surrounded, hands up in surrender.

One of the men walked towards them, reaching out to grab them. That's when Danny stepped in, keeping his invisibility and, sucker punching the dude out cold.

All the goons charged at the two, who at the moment were frozen, both looking around in confusion before joining in the fight.

Danny was exhausted by the time the last guy was knocked out. Which was not saying a lot because he had been exhausted for weeks, but now, even more so. Danny looked over to Robin and Artemis, noticing how they were both tense and staring right at him. He looked down...

Opps... Apparently, he had dropped his invisibility during some point in the fight. Well, there's not much to do about it now.

___________

Robin stared at the teen, who stared back with a pair of neon green eyes. The teen looked down for a few seconds, then looked back at them and shrugged.

"Cuffs?" The mysterious meta asked

"Um...what?" Robin asked completely confused.

The meta huffed and gestured to the unconscious people.

"Catch." Artemis said, walking past him and tossing the meta some rope. " Just tie their feet and hands for now." The boy nodded.

After all the men had been tied up, the three stood in silence, looking back and forth at each other.

Robin cleared his throat. "So, who -" the meta cut him off with a scoff.

Robin tried again.

" I'm Robin, and you are." Robin asked, keeping his body language friendly.

"Nun-ya." The boy replied. Hmm, it was a unique name. Maybe he wasn't a meta, but an ailen. "Business." The boy finished before fading away.

Robin stood there in disbelief, looking in the area the boy used to be, as Artemis laughed behind him.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny is very hangry #dpxdc

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 10 months

Text

The Reading Chair

pairing: Remus x reader

tags / warnings: NSFW! (minors do not interact), smut, smut, and… more smut; established relationship, sex, fem!reader, slight praise kink

notes: written as a continuation of my previous fic, but either can be read alone; the only context is that in this au remus and reader opened a bookshop together

word count: 2.9k

“I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for coming in,” you say with a smile to the last customer of the day. You’re completely knackered as you turn the sign from “open” to “closed” behind her. It had been a hectic day, the kind you were grateful for in the grand scheme of it all but ready to wrap up by its end. You’re rubbing your tense neck as you make your way back over to the counter, where there remains work to be done. You’re having to read the words and numbers over and over again to make sense of them, your mind not in it at all, as you look guiltily over at your book sitting beckoningly next to your paperwork. A break won’t hurt, you think to yourself. I’ll still get all this done later. I just need a little energy first. You snatch up the book and head to your comfy armchair in the corner, delving into the next chapter that you’ve so eagerly been anticipating.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when you hear the door open and close. You see his messy brown hair over the shelves before you see him fully.

“Y/N?” Remus’s voice calls. “Hey, Rem,” you speak up. He walks past the counter, around the shelves to your reading nook and leans against them, observing you intently with an adoring grin on his face. You stick your tongue out at him.

Laughing, he tells you, “You know… When I think of you when we’re apart,” he starts moving slowly toward you. “Which is most of the time when we’re apart, if I’m honest…” A self-satisfied chuckle as he gets closer. “I usually picture you right here. As you are, right now.” He kneels in front of your chair and gives you a quick kiss in greeting. “So beautiful.” His eyes travel your face. “With your nose in a book.” He grabs your book from you and places it on the table. You go to complain, but he stops you with a knowing look, a cheeky grin, and continuing, “And your legs in this weird position you find so comfortable.” He’s chuckling as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. You uncross your legs and let them rest on either side of him; he keeps rubbing them. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Is that so?” you tease. “Mmhmm,” he confirms, kissing you again, lingering longer this time.

“I usually think of you naked,” you tell him, and he breaks into a barking laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm,” you nod, smiling warmly at him. He moves his hands up your sides and rubs your shoulders a bit. You let out a long, loud sigh you didn’t realize you had pent up. “Long day?” he asks knowingly. You just nod. It’s a little odd with his sitting in front of you, but he begins massaging your neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to go during the rush,” he says sincerely. “Don’t be silly, Rem. That was for work, too. And it’s good — really good — business going up. And I can handle it.” “I know you can, lovely, but I don’t like seeing you so drained.” His hand caresses your face then rests in your hair and scratches at your scalp soothingly. It feels wonderful, sending tingles down your spine. You hum and lean into it. With your eyes closed, you miss the way his eyes travel down your torso. His grip in your hair gets a little bit tighter and his thumb traces the curve of your jaw. “I can help you relax, you know…” He sounds different. You open your eyes and see the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh?” Oh.

“Mmm.” His sound is guttural, and you’re not sure if it’s meant to mean “yes.” His hand on your hip tightens then slips under your shirt. “Here?” you ask, meaning to sound skeptical, sounding slightly desperate instead.

“I locked up behind me,” he tells you as he closes the distance between you and kisses you hard, his tongue immediately plunging into your mouth. You kiss him back ardently. His hand moves up your body, grazing your stomach then your chest, then resting on your neck. His hands now on either side of your face, he holds you firmly before gripping it and moving your head sideways, kissing down your jaw and neck slowly and sloppily. He stops at the sensitive spot below your ear and sucks. You moan and inadvertently rut forward. You feel his smile against your now moist skin. His teeth graze over your pulse point, and he keeps heading lower, pulling your shirt down out of his path as he kisses his way to your collar bone. He licks across it then just nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispers hoarsely, and your whole body shivers in response.

“Remus,” you sigh. “I want to. Fuck, I want to. But maybe we should wait till we go home.” You’d messed around at the shop before, but never further than this. He shakes his head “no” where it rests flush with your body and kisses your neck as he says, “Uh-uh. Too long.” He leans back, pulls your shirt over your head, and connects your lips again urgently. You melt into him and kiss him back with matching passion. His hands are everywhere as you make out then they come to rest on your bare hips as he stops the kiss but stays close, his forehead resting on yours, his breathing heavy.

Staring into your eyes, the hint of a smile across his swollen lips, he moves his fingers painstakingly slowly up your back. You’re slightly sweaty and extremely turned on, and you shiver again at his touch. He bites his lower lip as he unfastens your bra. You feel the weight of the loss of the support, and it feels nice. His hands come up to the straps and they pull them down equally slowly. The slightest motion would make the cups fall forward now, but you stay still, staring at him from under lidded eyes and long lashes. His hands come up to where your chest becomes your breasts, and his fingers caress down with a light touch until he reaches the tops of your bra cups. He continues the motion seamlessly, dragging the fabric down until it drops into you lap. His hands still floating above your breasts, featherlight touches electric, he brings his thumbs to your quickly hardening nipples and runs them across once lightly then again roughly. You whimper in response, and he tweaks your nipples between his fingers, abandoning the teasing, pushing and tugging harshly. Your whimpers grow louder, and he swallows them with a rough kiss before quickly moving his head down and wrapping his lips around your hard nipple. Moaning as he sucks on your tit, he kneads the other, and you hold his head to you with a firm grip in his hair. He runs his tongue around and around the bud then gives it a long wet lick before sucking it into his mouth again and humming around you. You’re loud now as the pleasure shoots through you, and as he switches from one breast to the other, planting a kiss in between them along the way, he gruffly tells you, “Fuck, I love your noises,” and after sucking your other nipple harshly adds, “and your tits. Fucking hell your tits.” Your chuckle mutates into a screamy moan as he bites carefully down on your aching bud, his tongue playing with it between his teeth. He bites and licks, kisses and sucks, and when he’s through playing with you, he kneads your chest roughly with both hands as his mouth kisses yours forcefully. You squirm in the seat as you push your tongue into his mouth and your chest into his hands.

Both of your breathing is coming loud and laboured as he pulls back and stares at you for a moment. With his panting mouth open, he smiles brightly at you, brings his forehead back against yours, and moves his hands to the button of your trousers.

The idea of protesting flitters across your mind, but unable to find a good enough reason not to give in, a fraction of a second later, your hips are in the air to aid in his removal of your trousers. You’re sitting there in only your knickers, wet and panting, and he pulls further away than he has since he came down to you.

Looking you over with almost black eyes, he chuckles and says, “Sorry, love, but I have to commit this to memory. You’re so fucking hot, I think I’ll get off on this for the rest of my life.” You laugh lightly and ask, “Still going to think of me reading when we’re apart?” You stick your chest out and open your legs wider. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, he groans animalistically and instinctively grabs the bulge in his trousers at the sight.

“Sure I will, lovely. Just naked too.” And with that, he delves back into you, starting at your mouth and worshipping his way down your neck, your chest, your stomach, till his face was even with your cunt. He nuzzles it playfully, and you whine, your hand coming to his hair and pushing him into you as you rut up, making him chuckle darkly.

“Don’t worry baby,” he teases. “I’ll take care of you.” His tongue, strong and flat against you, licks over your panties from your opening to your pubic bone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before,” he says, high on it. You whimper and rut again.

He sneaks a finger into your underwear where it’s soaked at your entrance. He separates the fabric that clings to your skin with your wetness and caresses up and down your folds, examining your cunt with the utmost scrutiny as he does. You’d think you’d feel shy at this, but the look in his eyes and the feeling in your core set you on fire, and you fucking love it. You open your legs as wide as you can, and with an eyebrow quirked, he looks up at you and smiles. “Good girl,” he tells you for the first time ever, and you mewl loudly and melt into the chair. He’s surprised at the intensity of your reaction and tries it again. “You like being my good girl, Y/N? my best fucking girl?” You nod vehemently and your grip on the armchair threatens to damage it. “Fuck,” he laughs. “Then I’d better make my favourite girl feel good then, huh?”

He pulls your panties to the side and licks up your folds several times, lapping the dripping arousal. He detaches his mouth from your lower lips, and you whine, but he’s only swiftly ripping your knickers off before latching on again, moaning into you. He sticks his tongue in your hole, and you half gasp half scream in response. He continues fucking into you with more and more force, his nose sending godly pleasure through your clit with each thrust and shake of his face.

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” you pray, your thighs shaking. He hums into your hole then starts sucking on your labia till he reaches your clit and sucks there. You cum all over his face. He hums and sucks and vibrates as you scream. When your shakes become shivers, he pulls off, licks your cunt from bottom to top, plants a kiss on your clit, then brings his face back to yours. It’s shining with wetness like never before.

“You’ve never cum like that,” he says amazed. “You’ve never eaten me like that,” you retort. He’s biting his soaked, swollen bottom lip and beaming. He runs his tongue slowly around his lips, lightly humming at the taste of you. You whimper at the sight, and he chuckles. “I like you all whimpery like this,” he teases. You feel your cheeks warm and move your hands to your face, but before they even reach it, Remus grabs your wrists and pins them back down against the arms of the sofa chair. “Uh-uh, lovely. No hiding. You’re too pretty, and I’m too needy. I need to see you.” He stares into your face then looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your still dripping cunt, your heaving tits, your blissed out face. “Holy fuck, you’re my goddess.”

You smile, equal parts shy and cheeky, and you confess to him, “I want to suck you off now,” with a boldness you hardly ever have in bed.

His eyes roll to the back of his head again, his knees weaken, and he pleads, “Please.”

You push him off of you and maneuver him into the chair. He’s yanking his shirt off while you pull his trousers down. When you’re both fully naked, without ado, you immediately wrap your lips around his rock-hard cock and start bobbing your head up and down. He whimper-yells in a way he never has before, and the sound propels you faster, deeper. Remus grunts rhythmically as you swallow him down, both hands in your hair, holding on for dear life, the occasional rough tug sending pleasure rippling down to your cunt. Your hands grip his thighs, vice-like despite the slipperiness of his now sweaty body. He lets out repeated “baby”s and “fuck”s and “please”s and “yes”s with increasing desperation, punctuating each sharp fast thrust of his hips.

You feel his thighs give a particularly violent shake, and knowing what that means, you pull off of him. The look on his face is of devastation, but his head goes back in excitement when he sees what you have in mind. You’re climbing onto him. He scoots down the armchair to give you some room to straddle him and brings his hands to your hips to help you in place and give some much needed stability.

Gripping the back of the chair, your other hand grabs his throbbing cock and guides it to your entrance. Remus is staring at where you’re about to be connected like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in his whole life. To him, it is. You feel him enter you, and you clench in complete pleasure. He hisses sharply at the sensation of penetration and lets out a continuous “ahh” as you sink further and further down, your grip on his shoulder bruising. When he bottoms out, you clench and give a little bounce, and you smile at his desperate reaction. He’s nodding vigorously, biting his bottom lip, staring at your tits, gripping your hips with the full force of his strong hands. One of them goes up to clench your breast as you start bouncing on him, slow and hard for several thrusts before picking up the pace when you find a stable position. It feels incredible. The control you have over the drag of his cock against your walls drives you crazy both physically and psychologically. You bring your hips up and down repeatedly until you’re a whimpering, shaking mess above him.

Completely out of breath, he asks, “Can I?” You know what he means and nod, holding on tighter as he then starts thrusting feverishly up into you, fucking you in full force from below. It’s knocking you up and down vigorously, so you bend over more to rest your forearms on the back of the armchair. With this change in position, your tits are now smacking against each other with each thrust — right in front of Remus’s face. He goes feral for it, and starts sucking on one of them, his hands not leaving their grip on you but moving down to squeeze your arse as he pushes into you over and over.

From between your tits you hear — and feel — him give a distinctive yelp, and you rub aggressively onto him with every ounce of energy you have left, giving your clit the friction it needs to push you over the edge right along with him.

“Fuck!” he yells as your walls clench impossibly tighter and milk him of the cum that’s rushing out of him. You yelp at the sensation, and the strangled sound continues through the end of both your orgasms.

Your body gives, but Remus hums contentedly at the weight of you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you with a chuckle. You lay like this for several moments, his hand running up and down your back, the slipperiness becoming stickiness as the chilly air licks at your still wet bodies. You shiver at it, but you’re so spent and so happy, you don’t struggle off of him yet. His softening cock still buried inside of you, Remus brings your face to his to give you a gentle kiss and adoring grin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax in this chair again,” you whisper in a giggle. “I’ll get flustered just looking at it.” His laugh is warm and full, and he gives you a squeeze.

You kiss him and linger, and he says, “You know, with all the stress and everything…” a kiss, “I think it’d be good for us to make this our closing time routine.”

The sound of your laughter is muffled by his next kiss.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin smut #remus x you #remus smut #remus x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders smut

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yoursweetwife · 2 months

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Warning: fluff, female reader, soft Ratio, the reader has trouble sleeping, It is mentioned that the reader is smaller than Ratio !bad english!

The ticking of the clock was the only sound that could be heard in the dark room, the only light source of which was a table lamp that illuminated piles of various papers and stationery.

The man's hand confidently, as if according to a well-honed scheme, continues to move the pen across the paper, crossing out the wrong answers. A sigh of annoyance escapes from the lips of Ratio, because of another stupid mistake. Why did these people come to study at all if they can't solve the simplest equations?

Dropping the pen, he runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes. Veritas almost began to reproach himself for underestimating the number of papers and other documents that he now has to deal with, which is why he decided to leave their verification for later. It usually didn't cause problems, but today was extremely exhausting, people kept causing problems, and now he can't even relax at home.

Veritas's thoughts darted to the women who was sleeping in their shared room right now. The only thing he wanted right now was to be in her arms, bury his nose in her soft hair and, after a short love conversation, forget himself until morning.

There were quiet footsteps behind him and it didn't take a genius to figure out whose they were. A slight smile appeared on the tired face as soft little hands closed Veritas' eyes.

"Guess who I am~"

Ratio resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard your mischievous but tired voice. It was clear that you had just woken up.

His hand covered yours.

"You keep acting naughty, even though it's clear from your voice that you're ready to fall off your feet at any moment."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You wrapped your arms around Veritas's neck and pulled him closer, pressing your smaller body against his and resting your chin on his broad shoulder.

"Then I need to sit down so that I don't fall down in the end."

You slowly walk around the chair and Ratio, taking the hint, leaned back in his chair, giving you the opportunity to sit on his lap. If, before his relationship with you, Veritas had been told that this pose would become his favorite, he would have started to deny it with disgust, but now he lets you choose the most comfortable position for the next two hours without resistance.

You pressed your cheek against his hard chest, wrapped your arms around his waist, and closed your eyes. One of his hands gently stroked your waist. Suddenly you wanted to sleep again, it was so peaceful in his arms.

"Am I bothering you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm more concerned about your condition tomorrow."

The pure concern in his voice made your heart beat a little faster. You've been having trouble sleeping lately, which has made it impossible for you to work properly, but the presence of Ratio helped you, which is why he waited until you fell asleep to finish the paperwork.

"Then why don't you finish your work tomorrow and go to bed instead?"

Ratio shook his head. He hates leaving work unfinished.

"You already know my answer, - Veritas picked up the pen again and looked at you. - so you'd better go back to bed."

Your mind was telling you to listen to your lover's advice, but you didn't want to leave your comfortable position, besides, the desire to be next to Ratio in order to continue feeling this warmth overcame any thoughts.

Therefore, you made the only right decision, snuggled closer, making a sad mumble, as if you were offended by this proposal.

Ratio sighed irritably, but smiled anyway. Your unwillingness to take care of yourself put him in a stupor. Of course, you both have a stressful job, but Veritas was able to find a way out of even such a situation, while you had to follow a strict regime for normal functioning.

"Very well, just don't complain about feeling unwell in the morning, I'm not going to replace your lessons. Again."

It was exaggerated, you missed work three times this year, but who could blame Veritas for being too dramatic. Definitely not you.

"You say that every time, but you keep breaking that promise."

You started playing with Veritas's soft hair while continuing to watch his focused face. From your position, it was difficult to capture all his emotions, but you can still see a slight redness on his pale skin.

"I usually have no choice because others refuse to take extra hours."

"I'm ninety-nine percent sure that you asked for the students yourself. Just admit that you like to see the disappointed faces of the students every time you walk into the classroom with another test."

Ratio snorted and hit your hip, making you flinch in sudden pain.

"You better stop distracting me if you want me to finish faster. I've spent too much time on useless conversations."

He didn’t even flinch when he heard your offended sigh. Despite this, you continued to touch his face, running your cold fingers over the hot skin of his neck and chest, hoping to attract attention to you.

Ratio was surprisingly quiet, preferring to leave your actions without comment. Perhaps he noticed how your eyelids were starting to get heavy and thus wanted to speed up the process?

"Hey don't ignore me..."

A relentless weakness spread throughout his body, the sounds of the room and Veritas's steady heartbeat in tandem creating a sweet lullaby that fogged your brain. Golden eyes met your clouded eyes for a moment, although it was hard to tell if it was just your imagination.

As soon as your body relaxed, Veritas realized that you had fallen asleep. He stopped writing and focused his attention back on you. You looked too fragile in your thin nightie, it reminded him of your first night together, after which your relationship changed forever.

He tucked the hair that had fallen onto your face behind your ear and kissed the top of your head.

You're lucky that Veritas loves you enough to ignore your stupid antics, which he probably likes a little more than he admits.

#dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #female reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #honkai star rail #dr ratio fluff #hsr

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skzdarlings · 1 year

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the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

The camper van was the best idea you ever had. It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight.

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry. It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed. You love it more than anything in this world.

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work. Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?” Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain.

“Yes,” Changbin says. He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt. He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job.

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy. Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves. Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations. Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van. The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced. Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion. It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one.

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge. So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress.

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”

“Yah! Rude woman! You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point. “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.”

“I’m not a nerd!” You definitely are. You stare at the cocktail dress morosely. “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things! That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says.

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say.

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning.

“How charming?” he teases, cocky. “Describe it to me.”

“Shut up.” You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered. “I can’t go in there. People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room. We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.”

“That won’t happen,” Minho says. His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening. “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face. His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho. It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala. To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning. The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face. He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin. There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face. He is practically glowing.

He knows he looks good. His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions. You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh.

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you.

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross. You hit him with the cocktail dress again.

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once. “At least no one will be looking at me.”

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter.

You like dressing up so this part is no problem. The problem with parties is other people. You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game. It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once. You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that. Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat.

You open the curtain, scowling. You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you. But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho. Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest. His expression gets very serious when he looks at you. He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further.

“Turn around,” he says.

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else.

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching. Minho tips his head like he is studying something.

“Thank you,” Minho says.

You face them again, hot in the face. You cross your arms angrily.

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow. “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious. “It’s a good one. You should be proud.”

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk. He catches it smoothly.

“Can we just go already?” You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van.

It is very strange being on this side of the operation. You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones. It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat.

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI. You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around. It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel. You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there. You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.”

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman. You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can. Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks. First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring. Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system.

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards. It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night. “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice. You think it is directed at both you and Changbin. He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look. “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face. It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws. They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine.

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says. He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips. “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.” You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine. He rests his hand on your nape. “Look sick,” he says. “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.”

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party. Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease. You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub. Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length. It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling. There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play. You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing. It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors. You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers. You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code.

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply.

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says. “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

“What!” You start to panic immediately. “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!” Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders. He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help.

“We’re good,” Minho says. “It’s just a waiter, not security.”

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say.

“By a waiter?” Minho asks. He gives your shoulders another squeeze. “Is he going to beat us with a baguette? Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves. Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck.

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says.

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head.

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin. He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand.

“What will work?” you ask.

“Distraction,” Minho says. You just look at him with confusion.

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart. You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently. His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder.

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you. Just do what I say, okay?”

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?” Changbin asks.

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho.

It’s the truth. You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through. Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there. They have never let you down. You trust them with anything and everything.

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different. He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead. Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side. He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips.

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation. It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips.

“Waiter is thirty seconds away. You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says. “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again. This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open.

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says. “Let your shoulders drop. Minho has you, it’s okay.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were. You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax. Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply.

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay? Put your hands on his shoulders. Higher, baby, go around his neck. Just like that. Let him lead you.”

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies.

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?” Changbin says. “Minho.”

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do. Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his. It arches your back. Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair.

“God,” Changbin says. The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you. It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath. “You both look hot. Fuck.”

Changbin takes a steadying breath. You and Minho look at each other. You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning. It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth.

“Do it back,” Changbin says. “You want him to fuck you, baby. Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter. Isn’t it? You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching. In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter. You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight. His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed. He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours. He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head.

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says. “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.”

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure. Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him. He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction. Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you.

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real. When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you. Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you. It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering.

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips.

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says. “Kiss him like you mean it. Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat. You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want. Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him. “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same. You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night. Need it so bad. Please. Want you inside me. Want my mouth on you. Come in me. Come on me. Take me, please. I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am? Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.”

Then someone is clearing their throat. Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective.

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says. “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.”

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment. You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you.

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over. He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry. He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder.

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess. It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job. Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open.

Minho joins you a minute later. Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you. Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside. You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall. He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you. You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver. You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy.

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle. “Good work, team,” he says.

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being. It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.

You get inside the storeroom. You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop. You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work.

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says.

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye. He smiles at you. “I agree,” he says.

Your heart starts skipping beats again. You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze.

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little. You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it.

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work. You manage to disarm most of the storeroom. The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all. A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments.

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam.

“Got it?” Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit. “Always,” he says, smirking.

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it. His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you. Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid.

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one. He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move. “Gotta agree.”

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease. He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel. It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him.

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot. Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume.

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile.

You pack your fold out bags with your selections. One key to success is never being overly greedy. You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul. Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket. He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place. When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling. You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit. There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you. Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet. You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire. You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing. He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.

You smile at him. A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair. The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder. You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close.

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences. You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction.

“Hey!” one shouts. “What are you doing out here?”

You and Minho look over, then at each other. There is no time for conversation. You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders.

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again. You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk.

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view. The door slides open and Changbin jumps out. You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding. “I agree,” he says.

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her. Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul.

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair. You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges. You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room. By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days. You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates.

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax. Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow.

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking.

You look at your reflection in the mirror. Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself. You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home. You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs. It is suggestive but arguably casual. You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right? Sure. Sure. Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said. Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help. Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade.

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination. You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room. You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up. They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy. They look very casual and very surprised. Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn. Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again. “I am… I am… dressed. For bed. My bed. For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now. I am going to that bed, now, like this. You can… join me. If you want. If you don’t want, then, okay. Hello. And. Goodbye. Bye.”

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed.

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet. You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash. They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom. You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other.

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi,” Changbin replies.

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer. You cannot think of what to say or do next. You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous. Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again.

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low.

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest. “Thank you.”

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all. You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them.

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm. Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher. You continue to stare at them.

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you. He holds out his hand.

“Breathe, baby,” he says. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand. He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier. He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you.

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me. You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho. His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye. You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding.

“Always,” you say.

“Good,” Changbin says.

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside. You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you. He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him. Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear.

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours. “Listen to my voice, okay?”

You nod, light-headed but eager.

“Good,” Changbin says. “Come sit in my lap. Over here.”

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around. You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs. You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure. Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast.

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you.

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?” Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly. He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says. He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer. Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips. “Touch him baby,” Changbin says. “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see. You can feel Changbin too, hard under you. Their sweatpants do little to disguise it.

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats. Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch. It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down. This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers. Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth.

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too. The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms. Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed. He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand. You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs. Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you. You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you.

Then they do. Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear. You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged.

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you. Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look. Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering. He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you. Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.

The music is still playing in the next room. The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs.

“I love you guys,” you say. It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care. You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys. You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep.

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side.

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says. “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely.

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger. You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord.

“I agree,” Minho says. He kisses your temple. “I know how criminals work,” he adds. “You’re not getting stolen away from us.”

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh. You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #seo changbin smut #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader

2K notes · View notes

spaceyaceface · 11 months

Text

Snow, Scarves, and Schemes

Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader (unspecified Hogwarts House)

Word Count: 14.8k (oops)

Content Warnings: Slight angst

Summary: Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only.

Or, the classic friends to lovers, idiots in love, fake dating scenario.

Also available on AO3

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Y/N paced back and forth nervously in the Undercroft. This was a stupid idea. Utterly rubbish. She considered going back to her common room, but knew it was already too late–she’d sent him an owl, after all. A bloody owl with a bloody note asking for help and to meet her in the Undercroft. She couldn’t flee now; he’d just track her down and badger her about later.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to the Undercroft opened with the boy she was waiting for waltzing through. He’d shot up in height the summer after their fifth year—he now nearly had to duck coming in the doorway. He’d been a twig for a brief moment after his growth spurt (a fact that Y/N had taken to her advantage and teased him with) but he had quickly filled out in the months that followed. Now, Sebastian Sallow stood tall and broad before her, the changes from the last two years evident to her eyes. It made her feel a little intimidated. Not that Sebastian himself was intimidating—she knew him too well to ever fear him. And he knew her well enough that she wouldn’t put up with any of his nonsense. The last two years of friendship had made them very close—of everyone in Hogwarts, Sebastian was easily the person she trusted the most, despite some of the difficulties throughout their time together. He’d really come far in proving himself redeemed—the fact that Anne now spoke to him attesting to his progress. It was her trust in him that led to this moment now.

“I got your owl, what’s happened?” He’d seen her nervous only a handful of times before. For the most part, Y/N was a girl who didn’t let things get to her—she made a habit of running headfirst into danger, thinking of the consequences only in passing. So, the way she was wringing her hands was most unusual. “You said you needed help, are the poachers back around Hogwarts?”

She shook her head quickly, finally meeting her eyes. “No, nothing like that. It’s just—oh this is stupid, I shouldn’t have sent that owl—”

“Too late,” Sebastian teased. “I know something’s afoot, I won’t rest until I find out what it is.”

“I know, I know!” She sighed. “You can’t laugh, alright?”

A signature smirk settled on his face. “No promises.”

She groaned. “Look, you know Leander Prewett, right?”

The events leading up to Y/N’s hastily scribbled note came back full force. Leander had followed her from her Herbology class down to Potions. Most of the time, Y/N had Sebastian and Ominis by her side, and could quickly dismiss the arrogant Gryffindor. But today, Sebastian had ‘accidently’ spilled a bag of dung all over Garreth Weasley’s feet, and Professor Garlick had insisted Sebastian stay behind to clean it up. Poor Ominis, guilty only by association, had been roped in as well. So Leander had taken his chance and walked out of the classroom with Y/N.

Because their conversations were usually cut off by Y/N running off to Sebastian and Ominis, Leander would typically ask how she was, make some snide remark about a Slytherin, and then ask her out. Sometimes she answered with a simple “No, thank you,” sometimes she made excuses of how busy she was, and sometimes, when she was really at her wit’s end, she’d pretend she hadn’t heard the question before claiming she saw Ominis’s blond hair up ahead and running off. But today she couldn’t find a reason to run.

And so, Leander strode up to her in the hall. “How are you, Y/N?”

“Just fine, thank you,” she stated simply, not even meeting eyes with the red-headed boy.

“Pretty low of Sallow to dump that dung all over. Typical Slytherin. Serves him right to have to clean it all up.”

She didn’t give him a reply this time, electing to roll her eyes instead. The whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry had always seemed pointless and melodramatic to her, though she had to admit she disliked it coming from Leander a lot more than hearing it from Sebastian or Ominis.

“What would you say to a trip to the Three Broomsticks with me this weekend, eh? My treat, of course. Could make a date of it.”

She let out a sigh. “I’d say no thank you, Leander.”

He scowled a bit. It was no secret to the majority of the students in their year that Leander had been chasing after Y/N for some time now. Ever since she became the “hero of Hogwarts” (a title she loathed to be remembered by), he’d had his eye on her. She had always felt it was less than actual attraction and more of a claim to fame that had him on her tail. But he was persistent.

“Why won’t you let me take you out, Y/N? We could end up enjoying ourselves, you know. I pride myself in being good company.”

“Because I don’t want to , Leander.” She was growing exasperated with him quickly.

“Want to? Or don’t think you can?” Leander frowned at her. “I know your friends with Sallow, and if I’d hazard a guess, I’d say he’s trying to poison you against me.”

She stopped walking, aghast. “I’d say it’s yourself who led to any ill-feelings I have toward you.”

“Then why not give a chance at settling some of those ill-feelings?”

Her fists clenched at her sides, and before she knew what she was saying, the words came tumbling out of her mouth—the words she almost immediately grew to regret.

And now in the present, Sebastian's eyes narrowed. “That prat? What about him?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his sour reaction. “Well, it’s to do with him. You see, he keeps asking me out—”

“You’re not planning on saying yes, are you?” he asked, an edge to his voice. Ah, that Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry.

“Of course not! Like you said, he’s a prat. A prat who won’t take no for an answer. Well, at least he wouldn’t, until I told him was already seeing someone…” She bit her lip, looking away from him.

Sebastian’s eyebrows raised. “You’re seeing someone? That’s news to him and me both, though I thought as your best friend I’d be a bit more entitled to that information.”

“That’s the whole problem, Sebastian! I’m not seeing anyone. I just needed a way to get him off my back, and now he’s suspicious, it was obvious he didn’t believe me—”

She was interrupted by a laugh. Sebastian was holding his arms over his stomach, nearly bent in half with the laughter shaking his body.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I said no such thing.” He stood up straight again, still chuckling. “So, you need someone to pretend to be courting you, is that it?”

She blushed deeply, covering her face with her hands. “Yes, Sebastian. That’s what I need help with.”

“Well, I’m honored.” He grinned ear to ear. “What made you choose me over Ominis, if I may ask?”

“For one, most everyone has heard he’s courting Anne now, which would add some tension if he was supposedly courting both of us—”

“Ah, right,” Sebastian conceded. Ominis and Anne’s developing relationship was rather new, one that had completely blindsided Sebastian (which was ridiculous in Y/N’s opinion, she could see it from a mile away. The protective twin had simply been in denial), though he had approved nonetheless.

“And secondly, to be quite frank, Prewett… has a stronger distaste for you than for Ominis. I figured it would throw him off his game a bit more.”

“Strategic. I like it.” He clapped his hands together. “So, when do we start?”

Y/N brightened. “You’ll help me then?”

“Of course. You’re my best friend, Y/N, I’m happy to keep a slimy chap like Prewett off your back any day.”

She launched herself forward, tackling Sebastian in a hug. “Oh, thank you! You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”

He gave a sly smile. “‘Course I do, though it’s nice to be reminded of it now and again.”

The two sat side by side, snacking on some of the nicked food they’d stored in the Undercroft. After practicing spells for a bit, they had gotten hungry and decided to take a break. Y/N broke a roll she was holding in half, setting one part into Sebastian’s outstretched hand. It was an unspoken system between them—always sharing what they ate.

“So,” Sebastian said between bites. “We should probably discuss the details of our arrangement, shouldn’t we?”

She glared at him. “You want some sort of payment for it?”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Not at all. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. And seeing Prewett’s humiliated face.” He smiled at the chuckle this brought out of her. “I meant things like how long we plan to ‘court’, or how we want to go about… displaying it.”

She nodded, thinking. “Well, the Yule Ball is coming up. I think it’s part of why he’s upping his game.”

He hummed in agreement. “That’s in what, three weeks, is it?”

“Precisely. I figured we could court until a few days before the ball, then ‘break it off’. That way, you could ask whoever you wanted to be your date, and I could attend with Ominis as he helps me through my devastating heartbreak, like the true friend he is.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Sensible. Speaking of Ominis, you know we’re going to have to tell him we’re faking it, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely. He wouldn’t believe it otherwise. He’d call it out for what it was, and it’d all crumble before it started!”

Sebastian laughed. “He’s a decent liar. And he hates Prewett too, he won’t have any qualms with it.”

A chuckle made its way past her lips as she pressed another bit of food into Sebastian’s hand. “Now, as far as the ‘displaying it’ nonsense goes…”

Sebastian nodded solemnly. “This will be the most difficult part. I’ll have to tolerate your company, won’t I?”

The shove she gave him nearly tipped him over.

“Come on now! You know I’m joking!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s me that tolerates you , we both know that. We’ll have to do a bit more than tolerate, anyway. I don’t imagine it’ll be too much, though. Perhaps holding hands, and occasional loving embrace, that sort of thing.”

“So I’m not getting a proper snog out of you is what I’m hearing?”

This time, the shove did tip him over. “You’re nothing but an overconfident rake, Sebastian Sallow!” Even as she said it, she smiled down at him.

“I’m not, and you know it. I’m a right and proper gentleman.”

“Right and proper gentlemen don’t talk about snogging in front of young ladies.”

“You’re my best friend, Y/N, you hardly count as a lady.”

There was a slight twinge of pain in her chest as he said those words. Since when did she not count as a lady? Sure, she preferred trousers to skirts and dresses, but they were simply more practical. She could out duel any witch or wizard who stood against her, but she liked to think she kept some amount of poise while doing so. And she thought herself quite respectable, at least until she got talking to Sebastian… perhaps he had a bit of a point. Most ladies would be aghast at arranging a fake-courting situation, and talking so plainly while doing so, but it was Sebastian . He felt more of an extension of herself at times than a boy she had met just over two years ago.

Y/N was in the middle of rolling her eyes when another voice joined the conversation. “What was that about snogging? Do the two of you need a moment alone?”

She grinned at the sight of Ominis walking toward them, his wand outstretched. “Oh, thank God you’re here Ominis. I don’t know if I could have spent another moment in the hell that is Sebastian’s company.”

“If that’s really how you feel, Y/N, our plan is doomed to fail,” Sebastian said, gathering more of their nicked food to share with the new addition.

“Plan? What trouble are you trying to get me into now?” Ominis asked as he sat on the floor beside them. Sebastian pressed an apple tart into his hand.

“Oh, nothing horrible, unless you think giving Prewett a heart attack is indecent,” Sebastian said.

“As… un-fond of Prewett I am, I still need to know what’s happening before I let anything proceed. What is it?”

Y/N sighed. “Well, Ominis, as someone who shares similar sentiments about Prewett, I… needed a way to get him to stop asking to take me out. I stupidly told him I was seeing someone, and Sebastian has graciously decided to step in and be that someone. Pretend to be that someone, I guess I should say.”

Ominis frowned. “And you need my help in what way?”

“Not in any way, really. Just go with it. Confirm it if people ask. Spread rumors when possible,” Sebastian said.

Ominis thought hard. Y/N could practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating every which way things could backfire. After a few moments, he seemed to come to the conclusion that nothing could go too terribly wrong. “All right. Whatever keeps Prewett at bay.”

Y/N threw an arm around him, startling him a bit. “Thank you, Ominis.”

He chuckled. “Anything for you. Now, if only I had someone to place bets with on how long the pair of you last.”

Ominis and Sebastian walked side by side back to the Slytherin common room. Y/N had departed a while before them, needing to catch up on a bit of her homework.

“Seems like an interesting plan the two of you have conceived,” Ominis said.

“Interesting indeed. Though I do have to say, it was pretty much Y/N who conceived it,” Sebastian replied easily.

“It’ll be… fascinating to see the two of you pretend to be a couple.” Ominis sounded thoughtful.

Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, if I’m honest, there’s been times I thought the two of you might have something between you.” Ominis tilted his head to face Sebastian a little bit more. “Never certain of it, though. Should I have been certain of it?”

His frown deepened. “Are you trying to say that one of us has feelings for the other?”

Ominis shrugged. “More or less. Any truth to that?”

Sebastian found himself thinking about the thought of that. Truth be told, he hadn’t done much of it before. He enjoyed spending time with Y/N, of course. It was always fun to throw her off by saying something unexpected. What was more was how well she did the same thing back. It kept him on his toes, always letting him expect the unexpected. She was talented, too, of course. He’d never forget that first duel they had, nor the ones they fought side by side in afterwards. She was an incredible witch. Beautiful, too, though that was common knowledge among most of the students in their year. It was just a fact. A statement. Y/N was beautiful, talented, funny, and exciting. Sebastian knew all of these things–-that didn’t mean he liked her, did it?

He realized there had been a bit too much of a pause after Ominis’s question. He quickly spat out the conclusion he had drawn to. “No, Ominis. She’s my best friend, right beside you. I haven’t felt that way, and I seriously doubt she’d ever feel that way towards me. Purely platonic.”

Ominis nodded, seeming like he expected as much. “Figured. Was just curious if this whole arrangement would bring anything out of the two of you. Perhaps it’s for the best—if the two of you really did start courting, I have a feeling the very walls of Hogwarts would have their days numbered.”

“Are you saying we’d be an awful couple?”

“Awful, or perfect together. I don’t think the castle would stand a chance at your mayhem in either case.”

Sebastian chuckled before changing the subject. What he had told Ominis had been true… hadn’t it? She was his best friend. They were nothing more, never had been, and never would be.

So why was he so glad Ominis couldn’t see how flushed he’d gotten at the thought?

Y/N picked at her breakfast the next morning—she’d only eaten a couple bites of her tart before setting it back on her plate, moving her eggs around instead. She imagined this is what it felt like for those on the Quidditch teams before a match. It was only by sheer luck that none of her friends around her seemed to notice her unease; perhaps they figured she got a bad night of sleep or something. They talked animatedly to one another. Y/N tried to listen, but found herself distracted with constant glances at the door.

It was very usual for Sebastian to be late to breakfast—or at times to miss it entirely. With all his late night mischief, he tended to sleep in as much as possible before coming down at the last minute to grab some leftover pastry and rush off to class. She started to wonder if he would show at all before they had to start heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As if the thought had brought him into existence, Sebastian Sallow strode through the doors of the Great Hall, Ominis trailing behind. He glanced quickly around the room before his eyes landed on Y/N, a smile appearing on his face as he walked over.

Seeing him let something settle in Y/N’s stomach. What was she so worried about? Of course he would show up for her. He always had, hadn’t he?

Sebastian arrived at Y/N’s table and didn’t hesitate to reach over her, grabbing an apple off her plate. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

Y/N scoffed. “Have you even looked outside yet? It’s a blizzard out there. I’m only grateful we don’t have to walk to Herbology in this mess.”

He shrugged. “Just because it’s snowing doesn’t mean it’s not lovely.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. “I suppose.”

He held out a hand to her, a prompting to head to class. “Come on then. Best we start our way over.”

The gesture wasn’t unusual coming from him, so she dedn’t hesitate to take his hand and stand. However, instead of letting their hands slide apart, his grip tightened as he laced his fingers between hers.

She turned away from him quickly, heading straight for the door. With their hands interlocked, he had no choice but to follow. She hoped she had turned quickly enough to keep him from seeing the blush that had crept up her cheeks. He had done that so… naturally. It stirred something inside her. She figured it was just her being impressed with his acting skills, and God knows Sebastian’s ego was already big enough—no need to let him know her astonishment of his actions to boost it further.

Once she felt she had collected herself enough, she turned her head to face him. “Did you finish your essay yet?”

He frowned. “What essay?”

“The one Professor Sharp assigned us in Veritaserum. Figured you’d find the topic interesting.”

His eyes lit up a bit. “Ah, yes, that one. Haven’t even started it, actually. Though I’m not nervous—I’d say the both of us know plenty to fill eleven inches of parchment.” He winked down at her, eliciting a smile on her lips. He was right about that. There was a period of time in their sixth year where Sebastian became determined to brew as many restricted potions as he could get the ingredients for. Veritaserum had been included in these, and the batch had resulted in an interesting night with Sebastian, Ominis, and Y/N spilling secret opinions on their classmates. “Perhaps we should brew another batch. I have a feeling Ominis isn’t telling me all the details of his letters with Anne.”

Y/N laughed and bumped shoulders with him, their interlocked hands keeping them both balanced. “Don’t torture your best friend for details about love letters, with you sister, no less.”

“Exactly! She’s my sister, I have a right to know!”

“I have the distinct feeling you wouldn’t want to know all the mushy things they write to each other.”

He rolls his eyes, but any annoyance comes across as ingenuine with the grin plastered on his face. “I’m not going to admit it, but maybe you’re right.” He leads them into the classroom, walking to the desk where Ominis already sat. Sebastian pulled out Y/N’s chair, allowing her to sit before taking his own beside her. A nice touch, she thought. Very in character.

Ominis chuckled to Y/N’s side. “The rumors have already begun. I overheard Poppy whispering about the two of you holding hands to someone, now that she’s got ahold of it, it’ll spread fast.”

Y/N grinned, meeting eyes with Sebastian beside her to see the smirk that had settled on his face. He stretched his arm above him, letting it settle on Y/N’s chair behind her. This was all too simple

The rest of the day continued on much the same. Sebastian was quick to hold her hand between classes, and with that the whispers around them became increasingly pronounced. It seemed too easy, really—Y/N supposed her close friendship to the boy leading up to this gave them some credibility as a believable pair.

By dinner, she couldn’t help but notice Leander Prewett positively fuming at the sight of them. He glared past all the tables, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from Sebastian as he helped load food onto Y/N’s plate. She had to stifle a laugh.

“God, would you look at the awful sight of him?” she said, pulling her plate in front of her. “He’s livid.”

Sebastian smiled mischievously. “It’s beautiful to behold, really.”

Ominis frowned. “Well don’t leave me out of it.”

“Oh, you’re not missing much,” Sebastian replied, finishing up with his own plate and getting ready to dive into the meal. “Just Prewett tried to curse me with his glare alone. I suppose I should be grateful he never took to nonverbal spells.”

It wasn’t long until Imelda came over to the trio, Poppy and Natty trailing close behind her. Y/N held back a wince. Besides the two boys sat on either side of her, these three were her best friends. It was inevitable that they would confront her—especially with Imelda being, well, Imelda.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, a determined look in her eye. Natty stood off to one side, looking fairly unconcerned. Poppy, on the other hand, seemed nearly fearful.

“So,” Imelda said, looking between Y/N and Sebastian. “There have been rumors.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “About me? Pray tell.”

“About the two of you. ” She gave a tilt of her head to indicate Sebastian.

“I’m right here, you know,” he said.

“So am I,” Ominis interjected. “Though go on treating me like a broken broom, if you’d like.”

Y/N held back a laugh, trying to remain serious. Imelda rolled her eyes. “Just tell us if it’s true or not. Are the two of you… courting?”

Y/N shot a quick glance at Sebastian. The slight up-ticks in the corners of his mouth were all the reassurance she needed. “That we are. I’m surprised it took you all the entire day to ask me about it.”

Poppy let herself smile a bit behind Imelda. Funny, Y/N thought. She looked pretty happy about the development.

“We were surprised we weren’t the first to know,” Natty said.

“Well, to be fair, it’s a very new thing.”

“Long time coming, though,” Ominis mumbled.

Imelda’s suspicious eyes softened. “Well, alright. We just wanted to… confirm it, I suppose. It all seems a bit out of the blue, to be fair.”

Y/N shrugged, thinking fast. “These sort of things almost always are, aren’t they?”

“Not usually,” Poppy piped up.

“Well, this one was. In any case, I promise I’ll tell you all the whole story soon enough.”

“You better, L/N, or I’ll knock you off your broom,” Imelda said, smiling.

Y/N grinned back. “If you can catch me, that is.”

Imelda chuckled, waving a quick goodbye and leaving. Natty followed, but Poppy lingered for a moment. “She means well, you know. And for the record, I think the two of you complement each other.” After that, she scurried away.

Y/N turned back to Sebastian. Was his face a bit red? No, couldn’t be… though she admitted that last comment from Poppy had thrown her off a bit. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag.”

Sebastian smiled. “That it is. Seems like you have a story to come up with, too. I only ask you don’t make me too pathetic.”

Y/N groaned. “Bloody hell.”

When the next morning rolled around, Y/N somehow wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian standing at the entrance to the Great Hall. It seemed that his dedication to ‘courting’ her had trumped his need for a little more extra sleep. As she walked toward him, she watched his eyes scan the throng of students rushing back and forth. Something stirred in her stomach as she saw how intently he looked through everyone—the fact that his eyes were searching for none other than her.

How wonderful to have a friend who looked forward to seeing her that much.

Finally, his eyes landed on her. He… lit up, for the lack of a better term. A smile settled onto his face, and he pushed off of the wall he’d been leaning on, standing straighter. It was only a moment later he met her by her side.

“Morning, darling,” he said, as if he’d been waiting since the day before to say it.

That silly feeling in her stomach flared up again. “Good morning. I see the weather hasn’t gotten you down.”

His grin widened. “Down? You’re joking me, you know I love the snow.”

That much is true. She’d been teasing him all winter for that very fact; he’d looked like a child when Mr. Moon had started putting out the Christmas decorations—that elation only grew as the first flakes of snow settled on the castle grounds.

“It’s beautiful, Y/N, I seriously can’t see how you dislike it,” he says, taking her hand and leading her to the table.

“I don’t dislike it, it’s just�� cold,” she replied. It was an honest answer. She’d always appreciated the snow from the distance; it was quite lovely to see Hogwarts and the surrounding hamlets covered in a blanket of snow. However, she wasn’t a fan of the chill–-it greatly limited her ability to go out and explore.

Sebastian sat down beside her. “Well then, I’ll take it as my responsibility as your companion to keep you warm.”

She wished she had something witty to reply back with. Instead, a blush fought its way to her face and she frowned. “You… yes. Do that, then.” She cleared her throat, looking around. “Where’s Ominis at?”

“Common room. He’ll be down shortly, he was just sending another letter to Anne before coming.”

She nodded. “We have Herbology today.”

“That we do.” He chuckled. “Merlin, am I excited to see Prewett’s face up close.”

“I hope it’s not too close. I wouldn’t put it past him if he were to try to duel you.”

“I almost hope he does,” Sebastian said, pulling some of the food off of Y/N’s plate. She slapped his hand away, but it was already too late. “I’d love to hex him onto his arse again.”

She shot him a warning glare. “Don’t you go starting anything. Ominis would kill us both if he had to pull his strings.”

He puts his hands up in a surrender. “Any spells I cast will be in self-defense only. I promise you that.”

It’s not long after that Ominis joins them, and then they were off to class. Once again, Sebastian’s hand found Y/N’s. There was still that slight pull in her stomach, a trace of unease in his fingertips. Normal things, she was sure, to have when holding hands with your best friend.

When they arrived in Herbology, the trio set themselves up at a table. The rest of the students came piling in and Y/N distinctly ignored the piercing gaze of Leander Prewett. She felt it on the back of her neck as class began and Professor Garlick gave instructions. It lingered as Sebastian pulled the pot they would be sharing onto the table, not giving her the chance to do it herself. And as the three of them spread soil into the pot, it bore into her still, not letting up for even a moment.

She felt she was about to combust from the heat of it when she noticed Sebastian’s grin beside her. Of course he was enjoying the whole thing—she’d have been a fool to think he’d feel any differently. She lightly slaped his arm with her gloved hand.

His eyebrows raised, not even phased by the ‘attack’, if one could consider it that. “And what was that for?”

“You’re enjoying yourself entirely too much .”

“Really? I was about to step it up a notch, I feel I’m not enjoying the moment to its fullest.”

And obviously, she couldn’t help but laugh at that. She always seemed to have a weakness for his quick remarks. His grin stretched further, if possible.

“Now, my dear, allow me to gather some seeds.” His face became terribly serious. “Don’t fret, I’ll only be gone a moment.”

She wanted to roll her eyes as he left, but instead, another chuckle made its way through her. Ominis let out a sigh. “And I thought he was insufferable before the two of you started this nonsense.”

The class carried on and Y/N found herself baffled again and again by Sebastian’s antics. First he insisted on not letting her leave the table for anything, running back and forth in the classroom to gather supplies. (Ominis didn’t complain about this aspect; he was completely content letting him weave through the tables like a mad-man.) Then he pulled the bag of soil away from her. When she tried to reason with him, he rattled on about how no lovely lady like her should get her hands dirty, to which she reminded him of all of the many, many times she’d proved herself most unlady-like in that sense. He didn’t relent. And finally, when class was over, he stood faster than a blink, offering his hand to help her up—to which, she rolled her eyes and took. It wasn’t this that surprised her—no, helping her up wasn’t extreme. It wasn’t something she would have even found outside of their friendship on a normal day. What caught her off guard was the bow he bent into as she stood, and the lips that pressed lightly, so very lightly , on the back of her hand. Her eyes widened.

He really was insistent on milking every last ounce of Prewett’s agony, wasn’t he?

In the bustle of students getting up and heading to the door, she doubted that many, if any at all, had seen this supposed display of affection. Even so, a tingle shot throughout her, settling right onto her warm cheeks. It was nerves, she reasoned. She was nervous about being caught in the scandal of one such as Sebastian Sallow being so physically affectionate toward her.

But as a figure stormed out of class, she realized the action had not gone completely unnoticed—as was the intention, she was sure. Leander Prewett strode past them, ears redder than the accents on his robes.

She’d have slapped the self-satisfied smirk off of Sebastian’s face if it didn’t look so bloody good on him. You know, in a completely platonic way.

Obviously.

They walked to Potions, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Ominis seemed in an awfully good mood, too. “I’m assuming the tantrum-like stomping I heard leaving the class was Prewett?”

“Tantrum-like,” Sebastian echoed. “A fitting way to describe him.”

“The two of you are awful, you know that?” Y/N said. She couldn’t help but be quite pleased with the outcome as well, though.

“‘Course we know that,” Sebastian replied.

Ominis grinned. “We’re not in Slytherin for nothing. Though to be a little fair to Prewett, I myself was getting a bit nauseous in there listening to the two of you. I only kept it together knowing it’s an over-the-top ruse.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Over-the-top. Not in the slightest, my dear Ominis. You just don’t know the first thing about romance.”

Y/N made no comment, though she was fairly certain Sebastian didn’t know much more about romance, either… He was doing a decent job at pretending to know, though.

They were fast approaching the classroom, and she winced to see Leander standing in the corridor leading up to class, arms folded and leaning against the wall in a sulk. His eyes shot up when he heard their footsteps, and he glared daggers directly at Sebastian. As they approached, he stood straighter, glancing between the three of them. She could see the nerves hidden behind his eyes.

“Could I talk to you, Y/N?” His eyes narrowed at Sebastian coldly. “ Privately?”

Sebastian tensed beside her. She was well aware of his protective streak. It was as deeply rooted in him as his charm, immovable as the freckles on his face. It was a part of her dear friend she both admired and grew tiresome of. But she was (almost) always good at talking him down, wasn’t she?

She tightened her grip on his hand. This time, it was a gesture of reassurance, not any sort of display for Leander–-though it could easily be taken as such. She looked up at him. “Go ahead into class. I’ll be right there, alright?”

He took a deep breath. It shuddered a bit on the way out. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. But if it takes more than a few minutes, I’m coming back for you.”

He let go of her hand, and she found herself missing the comfort of the contact as he and Ominis continued down the corridor. She now faced Leander alone. “What is it you wanted to speak about?”

The red-head’s frown deepened. “It… seems,” he started, speaking as if each word physically pained him. “That you and Sallow are… involved. ”

About as much as she had been expecting. “And how is that your business?”

He gaped at her, as if she dare question his involvement in her affairs. “Because I thought you were a sensible person, Y/N. I still think you are, you’re just lost in this… nonsense.”

A small flame flickered somewhere in her chest. “Nonsense, you say?”

“Alright. It’s more than nonsense. It’s complete and utter rubbish. You’re blinded by Sallow, his false charm and party tricks.” Leanders fist clenched at his side, voice growing louder. “You’re better than this. Better than him. ”

Her jaw tightened. The flicker grew, sending heat down her arms and legs. “You’ll stop talking now, if you know what’s good for you.”

“No, Y/N. It’s I who knows what’s good for you. And what isn’t good for you is that conniving, sorry prick with no life ahead of him. He’s in detention every night. He’s ambitious for nothing but trouble, bound for nothing but a penniless life and an early grave.”

She hadn’t realized she’d pulled her wand out until it was aimed squarely at the Gryffindor’s chest. A raging fire burned inside of her, aching, needing to burst in a wave of fury. She had never felt anything like it.

It surprised her how steady the words were when she spoke them, how in control she was of the fire. “You are a fraction of the man Sebastian Sallow is. You know nothing of who he is, how it’s me who is undeserving of him . I would happily live a thousand penniless lives by his side before I ever even considered wasting a mere moment with you. So I’d suggest doing the greatest kindness you have the ability to provide, and piss off.”

Leander Prewett was stunned speechless. He stared at the girl–-no, the beast stood in front of him, at the wand poised to end him, and in the wisest decision he’d ever make, fled.

Y/N stood in the hall, just breathing for a moment. How dare he—how dare he even suggest he knew a single thing about her Sebastian? He saw only what he chose to, only what his jealousy allowed him. He was wrong.

It was a minute or two before she walked toward the classroom, still half-blind in her anger. It was this blindness that kept her from seeing the figure using a poor disillusionment charm, just a few steps down the hall.

Sebastian slipped into the classroom just after Y/N, charm dispelling as he entered the door. He saw Ominis’s head face toward them, and he’s sure he can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. It was so tangible that there was no need for sight in sensing it.

She plopped into her usual seat next to Natty, not noticing how Sebastian sat after her at his own desk, even when he had been given very specific instructions to go on ahead of her.

As for his part in the incident, he was stunned .

He didn’t think he’d ever taken a Stupefy that had affected him as much as this.

While Ominis had continued down to the classroom, Sebastian had cast a disillusionment charm over himself and hid against the wall. He was very aware that this was likely an invasion of privacy, and that Ominis was right in scoffing and rolling his eyes at the action, but he was Sebastian Sallow, for Salazar’s sake. How could he resist listening in to a conversation bound to be about him, especially when the circumstances for eavesdropping were so simple?

(There was also the fact that something could go wrong. And if it did, he couldn’t leave the girl he was supposed to be courting to fend off Prewett on her own, as capable as she was.)

He’d heard every word leave Prewett’s mouth. He’d been ready to jump out and defend his honor when Y/N had done so for him.

And what a bang-up job she’d done, hadn’t she?

The words still echoed in his head. A thousand lifetimes… the ridiculous claim that she didn’t deserve him. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.

Ominis leaned over to whisper, pulling Sebastian out of his head and into the reality of Sharp’s droning about their assignment. “Seems like the conversation went swimmingly. Is she mad at you for butting in?”

“I didn’t butt in,” Sebastian whispered back. “She handled herself just fine.”

“It is Y/N we’re talking about, we’ve both known she’s completely capable for years now,” Ominis said. He frowned. “She’s still angry, though, isn’t she?”

“Oh she’s fuming. ” It was true. Natsai was looking quizzically at her friend, concerned at her stiff posture and clenched jaw.

“What is it she’s mad about?”

“She—” He found himself not wanting to say it. Not wanting Ominis to read into the things she had said, make them into something they weren’t.

He didn’t want to allow himself to read into it, either.

“Prewett was being a pratt. Said he knew her better, tried to convince her he knew better than she did. She told him to piss off. ”

That was enough of the truth, wasn’t it?

Ominis seemed to think so, giving a low hum. “Serves him right.”

Y/N didn’t calm down, even when the instructions were over and she and Natty went to gather the ingredients for their potions. Sebastian kept an eye on her, watching her chop ginger with much more force than was necessary. It doesn’t look like she told Natty anything–-the poor Gryffindor looked at her friend, completely at a loss. Blimey, he might’ve thought he was looking in a mirror. Sebastian decided he better do something about the situation.

He abandoned his meager start to the assignment and strided over to Y/N’s table, approaching her from behind. “I do believe the textbook says to cut the ginger into even slices, not to mutilate it.”

She gave a small start, turning to face him. He sees just a bit of the fury drop off her shoulders as they meet eyes. She let out a sigh, looking down at the ginger and wincing. “I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”

“I bit, if I have to admit it.”

She groaned. “I’m sorry, he’s just… it was infuriating.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your poor ginger. Let’s put it out of its misery, shall we?” He pulled out his wand, vanishing the sorry mess on her table before summoning the untouched ingredient he’d left on his desk. He set it down, smiling at her. “There. A fresh start.”

“Thank you.” He can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s more than just the ginger she’s talking about

“No, thank you.” As if it had a mind of its own, his hand found hers, giving it a light squeeze. “I quite hope he takes your advice and pisses off for the foreseeable future.”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could say a word, he winked and walked back to his table.

The next few days went off without a hitch. Y/N and Sebastian played the part of the ideal courting couple, and none were the wiser. With each passing day, it became easier to hold hands, to lean in close and share conspiring whispers, to flirt and blush and play pretend.

(Curiously, the strange feeling in her stomach didn’t stop, as natural as these things became. Always nervous someone would see through it, she supposed.)

The rumors that had once been the very exciting topic of meals and corridor whispers turned slowly into accepted truth. There seemed to be no denying it. And as the Yule Ball loomed nearer, Y/N felt more and more at ease that she would not be asked to attend with Leander Prewett. He’d kept his distance since the Incident, as she’d taken to calling it, but felt that she’d be celebrating too soon if she thought he was done for good.

The Incident seemed not only to have an effect on Prewett. She hadn’t foreseen the consequences of Sebastian overhearing what she said, but really she didn’t think she would go back and change a single word she’d uttered. It had all been true. She knew him very well, as a friend, and she’d spend a thousand lifetimes with him, as a friend, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve him, as the bloody brilliant and completely wonderful friend he was.

Sebastian knew that.

Neither of them had spoken about it. They didn’t need to. There was nothing to address. Prewett had been stupid, Y/N had defended Sebastian, like a good friend , end of story.

So why did she still feel the weight of it whenever she saw him?

She figured it must be the leftover anger that coursed through her when she thought of Leander’s words, or the guilt that he had ever had to hear such things said about him. Yes, that was it. She wanted to reassure him. Say it straight to his face that that prat Prewett had it all wrong, and that he shouldn’t ever even consider things he said as truth. But that would have been an awkward conversation, and it was all implied anyway, so each time she thought about the Incident, she’d push it to the back of her mind.

She had been doing just that when Imelda caught her arm in the courtyard. “There you are! We’ve been trying to talk to you for ages .”

Y/N smiled at her, seeing Poppy in tow. “Oh? What about?”

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Don’t play coy, L/N. You still never told us the story about you and Sebastian. I mean, it's increasingly obvious the two of you are courting, but how? When? Why?”

“And have you kissed him yet?” Poppy added, grinning.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Poppy!”

The Hufflepuff smiled not-so-innocently.

Y/N shook her head in exasperation. “Look, it’s not as exciting as you both seem to think it is. We were walking together one day, he said he cared for me a bit more than friends, I said I felt the same, and here we are. And no, we haven’t kissed.” She’d thought carefully about the story she’d tell them, coming to the conclusion that a short, safe story was best. Fleshing it out with extreme detail would make it outlandish.

It was also hard for Y/N to think about how she and Sebastian might get together, for some reason. It caused that silly feeling in her stomach to turn.

Imelda frowned. “If I’m honest, I expected there to be a bit more to it. It is Sallow we’re talking about.”

Oh dear. Y/N shrugged, trying to hide any discomfort in the action. “Don’t know what to tell you. Sorry to disappoint.”

“You two have been getting along, though, haven’t you?” Poppy asked. “It seems like you are.”

“Of course we have been,” Y/N answered. “I mean, we were best friends before. Most of it feels… natural, really. Just a few added things. It’s… nice.” She was surprised that she didn’t get that uneasy feeling she normally had when telling a lie at those words.

They stopped pestering her about Sebastian (thankfully, she wasn't as good at coming up with lies on the spot as he is) and instead caught up on other things—homework, poachers, Quidditch, the usual. It was good spending some time with them. She almost didn’t notice the cold of the courtyard. Almost.

She started shivering at some point—with just her uniform and robe, the chill was quick to settle in. The slight breeze didn’t help, either, whipping away any warmth before she could keep it.

“And just what are you doing out here without a proper coat?” a voice said from behind her. She felt a bit warmer already. Sebastian smirked from beside her, looking over her shivering frame.

“I wasn’t planning on spending a lot of time here, we just… happened to meet,” Y/N explained.

He gave a playful scoff. “Ridiculous. Here, take this,” he said, removing the scarf from around his neck. Her hand opened to grab it, but… there was no need. Instead, he stood directly in front of her, passing the scarf over her shoulders and tying it snuggly without a word. He ran a hand against it, smoothing it out and pushing her hair out of her face. “There we go. Color suits you pretty nicely, too.”

He seemed very satisfied with his handiwork, taking a small step back to admire it. There were several moments of silence until Y/N realized she should probably say something.

“Um, thank you. That’s… much better now.” She was in fact, very warm now.

He chuckled. “I’ll see you later, darling.” And with that, he left.

She didn’t feel the chill at all anymore. Her stomach fluttered with that silly feeling, and her head spun with the scent of old parchment and fireplaces.

The snow fell in gentle flakes around her, and she realized it really was beautiful when she could feel the cold.

The Yule Ball was now only ten days away. It had come up faster than Sebastian thought it would—very recently, three weeks had seemed like a lifetime. Now each day went faster than the last.

With the winter chill growing ever stronger, Y/N had taken to wearing Sebastian’s scarf constantly. She could have swapped her own scarf out and returned his own, but… she hadn’t. He reminded himself that it added a very believable level to their act. It was physical proof that they were tied together, present even when they weren’t standing side by side. When they were apart, Sebastian sometimes thought of her somewhere off in the castle, his scarf tied around her neck, and Ominis would have to tap his shoulder out of his distant thoughts.

He wasn’t really sure what that was all about.

But right now, Y/N was by his side, sitting in the grass as they listened to Professor Garlick’s lecture. Herbology was mostly a hands-on event, but as they progressed toward their N.E.W.T.s, there were some plants to study that even Professor Garlick hesitated to put in front of them. Today she had ushered them outside, insisting that if they had to listen to her ramble on, they should at least feel the sun while doing so.

The snow had melted over the last couple of days, leaving the ground drier than it had been all winter. Sebastian missed the white blanket that had coated the trees and fields. He hoped it would snow again before Christmas. While the sun was out, it was still rather cool. Which was why, even in her coat and scarf ( his scarf), Y/N had begun to shiver.

Sebastian chuckled. “Still cold, are we?”

She frowned, giving him a small glare. “What gave it away?” She looked back at Professor Garlick. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through class without turning into a block of ice.”

“I’ve got an idea. Come here,” he said, scooting closer to her. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her softly into his side.

He wasn’t sure what had made him do it. Instinct? His natural and irresistible flirtatious charm? Who knows. But as soon as he had done it, the weight of it settled on him. Other things had become normal. But this, Y/N pressed against his chest, where she could likely feel his rapidly beating heart, this was new. His body stiffened at the realization. Was this ok? Had he gone too far?

For a moment, she also seemed surprised—but only for a moment. He felt her body relax a bit against his, allowing herself to lean into his warmth. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and did the same.

Class continued, and Y/N stopped shivering. (Sebastian found this very fulfilling.) He was hyper aware of her breathing; he’d never heard it so close for so long. Over and over again he found his gaze drifting down to look at her, eyes unconsciously following the slope of her nose and curve of her lips. As soon as he’d realize he was staring, he’d whip his head forward again, begging himself to keep it that way. It never seemed to work.

After what felt like eternity, class ended. Y/N moved to stand, but Sebastian was quicker, jumping to his feet to offer his hand. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eye. She laid back on the ground, reaching up for his hand lazily. “The class really took it out of me. I’m not sure I can go on.”

Sebastian feigned annoyance. “Are you trying to take advantage of my kindness?” He grabbed her hand anyway, attempting to pull her up. She acted like a limp doll. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she slumped forward when he finally pulled her into an upright sitting position. She stuck her tongue out at him. Leaning down, he grasped her other hand, forcing her to her feet. Still halfway committed to her game, she rose off balance, and to steady her, Sebastian placed a hand on her waist.

When she finally stood straight, he noticed how close the action had made them.

He was still holding her hand, still gripping her waist. He could feel her breath on his lips—it made his heart lurch. For a split second, he could only think of getting closer, seeing how not only her breath felt, but her lips against his—

His hands dropped to his side and he took a large step back. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t see the expression she was wearing. He didn’t know what he wanted to find.

So instead, he cleared his throat. “Lot of work to get you on your feet. Come on, those potions won’t brew themselves.”

Smooth, Sebastian.

Ominis Gaunt was no idiot. In fact, he fancied himself pretty sharp, especially when it came to certain topics.

One of these topics happened to be Sebastian Sallow.

He didn’t need working eyes to see that something was changing . Well, less changing, really, and more uncovering what had been there all along. He could hear it in the tone of Sebastian’s voice when he spoke to her, the way it went all soft. He felt it in the way Sebastian froze in place every time she entered a room. There was this small stupid sigh he’d let out when he couldn’t walk her to her next class, a lingering frown that wormed its way into his speech every time she wasn’t around.

They were little things. But they were there.

And now, after that Herbology class, his friend walked beside him in silence . It was something he had scarcely beheld.

Ominis wasn’t completely sure—not yet. But if he’d hazard a guess, he’d say his best friend had fallen in love—he just didn’t know it yet.

It finally hit her when she realized she missed his smell on his scarf.

She’d worn it every day since he gave it to her—it was cold out, why wouldn’t she? Why not appreciate the gift her friend had given her?

Why not take the chance to always feel he was near her, even when he wasn’t?

Over the days, the scent of fireplaces, old parchment, and a trace of his cologne faded away. She sat in her room and took a deep breath, realizing in that moment that she had spent every moment she could basking in it. It was in the absence that she finally figured out that silly feeling in her stomach. And now that she had a name for it, it was painful.

She wasn’t supposed to feel this way for a friend—her best friend . She wasn’t supposed to be excited when he held her hand, wasn’t supposed to feel the burn of his hold on her waist, wasn’t supposed to wish he had closed the distance and kissed the life out of her .

She wasn’t supposed to be in love with him.

Because that’s what it had been all along, hadn’t it? She couldn’t even trace back to the beginning of the feeling, it was like it had been there all along, lingering, waiting to be discovered.

Now that she had, she worried it would destroy her.

There was no chance he felt the same—he would never have agreed to her stupid plan if those feelings had existed. He would have said something a long time ago. Perhaps he would have kissed her in Herbology.

Where was she supposed to go from here? How could she continue with their awful, awful plan, longing in every moment that it was the truth?

How could she give up the chance to pretend it was real, if only for a few days more?

She wouldn’t ruin this. The plan. Their friendship. She would continue on, and when the day came for it to end, she’d be heartbroken, and pretend to be that damn good at acting . She’d get over it, and she’d never let anyone know that she had ever been in love with Sebastian Sallow.

Ominis bounded into the Great Hall, which was a distinctly un-Ominis thing to do. Sebastian raised an eyebrow as his friend approached, grinning ear to ear. “Have you gotten a letter from Anne?”

“I haven’t checked my post yet,” Sebastian answered as Ominis sat in one of the empty seats beside him. Y/N hadn’t come down yet, which was a distinctly un-Y/N thing to do. Blimey, was everyone off today?

“Then I’ll do the pleasure of sharing the good news myself. She’s been feeling well these last several days, and if it keeps up, she plans to come to the Yule Ball!”

Sebastian understood his friend’s good mood immediately—his own heart soared at the thought of his sister enjoying herself and dancing the night away, and didn’t even feel bothered that it would likely be in Ominis’s arms (he had given his approval, after all). “Really? Have you asked her then, officially?”

“Of course. I’ll be right beside her, Sebastian. You won’t have to worry.”

Sebastian patted his oldest friend on the shoulder, grinning right back at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“This does leave a bit of a complication, though, doesn’t it?” Ominis said.

Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”

His friend sighed. “I was supposed to be going with Y/N after the two of you broke it off… it wasn’t official, or anything, but—”

“Don’t worry about it, Ominis. She wouldn’t want you to miss going with Anne.” Sebastian thought for a moment. “It is rather close to the ball, anyway. Perhaps it would be best if I went with her. Left the ‘breaking it off’ until afterwards.” Why did that thought make his heart beat faster? “If she’ll have me, of course.”

A strange expression crossed Ominis’s face. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Why don’t you ask her once she arrives?”

“I will.”

For some reason, it became infinitely harder to eat after that conversation. Each bite of Sebastian’s toast had lost its taste, no matter how much butter he put on it. His pumpkin juice was the same.

What if she said no? What if she was disappointed to go with him, her longing lying elsewhere?

And why did he care so much if it did?

He pushed those thoughts aside as she arrived in the Great Hall, uniform slightly rumpled and hair askew. Had she stayed up too late studying?

In any case, he had a question he needed to ask. He rose to meet her, unable to wait for her to sit at the table. She started a bit, looking up at him.

“Morning, Sebastian,” she said.

“Morning. I had… a question to ask you.”

She tilted her head. He wondered if she heard the worried tone in his voice and quickly cleared his throat, trying to get it to leave.

“What’s the question?”

“Well, you see, there’s a bit of great news, and a little bad news that comes with this question.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Anne is feeling well–well enough that she plans to attend the Yule Ball.”

Her eyes lit up. (He was glad he got to tell her, just so he could see that.) “That’s wonderful! I’ll be so excited to see her! What’s the bad in all of this?”

“She plans to attend with Ominis, who was going to be your date.”

She shakes her head. “That’s alright. I would never want to come between the two of them, I can stay in that night. Be heartbroken, and all that.”

Sebastian shifted on his feet, nervously. His arms came up to cross over his chest in a protective gesture. “But that’s where my question comes in. I thought—and, please feel free to say no to this—that we could go together? Most people would be expecting it anyways, and we could push off the end of our courting a bit, I wouldn’t mind. And it would keep Prewett trying to ask you last minute, I wouldn’t put it past—”

“Sebastian,” Y/N said, smiling. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll look forward to going with you.”

He held back a wide grin. “Good. I figured it would beat sitting in your dormitory being miserable.”

She laughed, and something shifted inside him. “That it will.”

And with that, he took her hand and led her to the table, his smile refusing to be hidden any longer.

The week leading up to the Yule Ball was a frenzy. Students were restless in class, whispering about who was going with who, figuring out if someone didn’t have a date yet, making plans on buying dresses and robes and discussing how to style hair. By the time the last class was out, a mere three days before the dance, the professors were sick of it. There was an excitement in the air—it was difficult not to get swept up into it.

It was inevitable, Y/N realized, that she wound up in the dress shop in Hogsmeade. Imelda, Poppy, and Natty were with her, all trying to find dresses of their own. Poppy had settled on a lovely gown with a light floral print. Natty found a deep maroon one, accented with flecks of gold–-the perfect dress for a proud Gryffindor. Imelda was set on a navy dress, a little less fancy than some of the other ones, insisting she needed to be able to move properly to dance.

Y/N, on the other hand, was at a loss. She felt like she had tried at least a dozen gowns on and hated every single one. She was nervous—more than she’d like to admit. She knew Sebastian didn’t feel the same for her as she did him, but she still wanted to put her best self forward. And part of that meant the perfect dress.

She sighed as the shopkeeper put away yet another reject—this one a frilly pink number than Y/N had nearly vomited on. She buried her face in her hands. “It’s hopeless.”

Poppy came to her side. “Of course it isn’t! We just have to keep looking!”

“What about this one?” Natty asked, pulling a dress forward for them to view. The Gryffindor had a proud glint in her eye, as if she already knew she had won. “I’m sure he’ll love the color.”

That much was sure to be true. It was a deep emerald green, one that Y/N thought would compliment Sebastian’s lovely brown hair nicely. She blushed at the thought, looking closer at the dress. “I can try it on and see.”

As the shopkeeper helped lace up the back, Y/N knew before looking in the mirror that this was the dress she would wear. It was a simple, but a little scandalous—the neckline allowed her collarbones and tops of her shoulders to be put on display, and the short flowing sleeves showed off her arms. It was lovely. She felt lovely.

When she was dressed, her friends grinned at her. “If you don’t get that dress, I’ll force you into it,” Imelda said.

“No need for force,” Y/N said. “I love it.”

She could only hope Sebastian loved it, too—even if it was just as a friend.

Sebastian’s fingers drummed on the table as he stared at the ground of the Undercroft. Ominis gave an annoyed hum. “If you don’t stop that tapping, I may have to blast your fingers off.”

He frowned at his friend, but stopped his tapping. “You act like I killed your puffskein.”

“If I had a puffskein, and you killed it, I promise I’d act much worse. ”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying to read the book on the table in front of him. The words had no meaning to him.

“You’re tapping again.”

Sebastian groaned. “I can’t help it.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t used to get so antsy without seeing her all day.”

“Y/N’s been gone for hours . Aren’t you a little concerned?”

“She’s dress shopping, Sebastian. I hardly think that’s an event to worry over.”

Sebastian pouted, arms crossed to keep from drumming the table.

“I didn’t say who her was, by the way.”

His head shot over to look at Ominis. “What do you mean?”

“I never mentioned who you were antsy about not seeing. Could have been Anne. Could have been Professor Weasley, for all the context there was. But you thought of Y/N. ” Ominis smiled to himself. “I wonder if it means what I think it means.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly. “And what exactly do you think it means?”

He shrugged. “That you love her.”

It was like a fire ignited inside his chest. “What are you—why would—I don’t— ”

“With that reaction, I rescind my previous statement.” Ominis grinned. “It’s no longer what I think it means. It’s what I know it means.”

“You don’t know anything, Ominis. I’ve told you before, she's my best friend, I don’t…” he trailed off. He couldn’t say he didn’t.

“Are you quite certain of that?” Ominis closed the book he’d been tracing his wand over with a gentle thud . “Let’s review the facts before we come to a conclusion, dear friend. You’re nervous about the dance tomorrow.”

“It’s a ball, why wouldn’t I be–”

“Hush now, Sebastian. You’re going to listen to me for once in your life. You’re nervous because of her . Think back, is there anyone else you would have asked to the ball?”

Of course there bloody wasn’t. But that was a rule Sebastian made for himself, wasn’t it? Not to think about it? Not to let his heart race, his days revolve around her. Not to admit what these things meant.

“You’re insufferable when she’s gone—and believe me, I know the difference between normal Sebastian and insufferable Sebastian. You trusted her from the moment you saw her. You’d do anything for her, including torturing yourself by going along with this ridiculous scheme of hers. You lie to yourself, again and again, and for what? To protect her? To protect yourself? You love her, Sebastian.”

Sebastian held his head in his hands. He’d put up so many barriers, so many walls around that truth, that he felt himself crumbling. He couldn’t love Y/N, not because she wasn’t worthy of it, not because he didn’t, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of living without her. That was torture. That was insufferable.

The walls had been demolished. The rules all broken. The truth was out there now, spoken into existence by Ominis, and as much as Sebastian longed to put it back in the careful little corner he’d made for it, he couldn’t.

He was supposed to deny every word Ominis said. He was supposed to push these things aside and lie and go back to the way things were. But instead, his voice came out small, uneven, and raw.

“What am I going to do, Ominis?”

For all the snark he gave, Ominis truly cared for his friend. At the sound of his weak voice, he placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Telling her would be a good start.”

Sebastian gave a humorless laugh. “As if that wouldn’t ruin everything.”

“I seriously doubt admitting you care for her deeply would result in her hating you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ominis said. “If she had the capability to hate you, I feel you would have crossed that line long ago.”

“Which is exactly why she could never feel the same.”

Ominis sighed. “Sebastian, throughout everything, she has always been right at your side. I’d say that loyalty reflects feelings a bit deeper than friendship on her part.”

Sebastian didn’t have a reply to that. Admitting to Ominis, to himself, the feelings he had for Y/N had been challenge enough. To consider that Y/N might feel the same… It was too much. Ominis seemed to recognize that. “Look, just… think about it, alright? Go to the ball with her tomorrow. Let yourself enjoy it. Stop acting for one night, and see how it goes.”

Ominis gave him a pat on the shoulder, then rose to his feet. “I’m going to the dormitory. Anne is arriving tomorrow; it’s best if we both get our sleep.”

Sebastian scoffed as his friend left. As if he’d sleep at all after any of that.

The ball was only an hour away. After greeting Anne, Natty, Poppy, and Imelda had whisked Y/N away to begin getting ready. At first, Y/N didn’t understand why so much time was necessary—but as the minutes ticked away, she found herself nervously scrambling to pin her hair. They had all settled themselves in the Room of Requirement, figuring it was the perfect space for all of them to prepare. The other three girls had left just minutes ago, rushing off to see the other girls their year, and Y/N couldn’t help but admire their lovely gowns.

As she was leaving that morning, Y/N had hastily explained to Anne how to get to the room; she could only hope her instructions were clear. Evidently, they were—Anne came bursting into the room, bright smile on her face. She held a dress in her arms. Y/N tore her stare away from the mirror in front of her to turn to the girl. “Anne! You’ve made it! You haven’t left much time to get ready, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, settling in front of the mirror beside her. “But I couldn’t tear myself away. It was wonderful seeing Ominis again.”

“I’m sure he made up for the hardship of seeing your brother,” Y/N joked.

Anne laughed. “And then some. Sebastian left a while ago to get ready. I’m glad he’s taking you, seeing as I stole your intended companion. Quite the plan the three of you had, hm?”

Y/N froze with a pin clutched between her fingers. “Ominis told you about it?”

“He did. I have to say, I’m sorry I missed seeing Prewett’s reaction. From what I’ve heard, you gave him quite the talking to.” Anne turned to the mirror, beginning the work on her own hair.

“O-oh? Well, um, yes, I suppose I did,” Y/N said, trying to distract herself by looking at her reflection. “I do appreciate Sebastian’s help with all of it.”

“He’s horrid, but he’s always there when it truly matters.” Anne glanced over at her. “Your hair looks perfect, why do you keep fidgeting with it?”

Y/N shrugged, trying to maintain a look of innocence. “I just want to look my best.”

“Nervous, are we?”

She froze. “W-why would I be nervous?”

Anne gasped, reaching out to grab Y/N’s arm. “You are nervous! Please, you must tell me, do you fancy him?”

“That… that’s ludicrous, Anne, he’s my best friend, you know that.”

The brunette smirked, and it looked much too like her brother—mischievous glint and all. “I won’t tell him.”

“I…”

Oh, what was the point? Why try to keep it in any longer—it was bound to drive her mad, might as well let someone know why she was doomed for an asylum.

“I do fancy him, Anne. In fact, I fancy him so much, I hardly know what to do with myself.” She sighed heavily. “It’s maddening . I’ve only realized it recently, though I now know I’ve felt this way for much longer than that. And now, with this idiotic plan—” She held her face in her hands. “Well, it’s easy to see how things… how it could be , if he only felt the same.”

She was too busy wallowing in her misery to see Anne’s grin widen with her words. “Perhaps tonight will change things.”

Y/N groaned. “I doubt that. He only asked me because he wanted to make sure Prewett didn’t.”

“And why would he want to make sure Prewett didn’t?”

“Because… because he’s a good friend, Anne.”

Anne shrugged. “I’m going to ask you to do something tonight, Y/N. Oh, quit groaning like you’ve been cursed, it’s not difficult —keep an open mind. That’s all. Try to see what’s there, and not what you’ve been so focused on avoiding. Let yourself be happy tonight.” Anne turned back to the mirror, finishing up her hair. “I won’t push you any more on the subject as long as you try to do that.”

Y/N didn’t think she had much choice but to accept.

As they walked to the ballroom, Y/N could only repeat the words don’t trip over and over again in her mind. Anne had gotten ready quickly, and she looked stunning in her blue dress. Her health had improved greatly in the past few months—a nurse and St. Mungos had been experimenting with different potions to ease her pain, and it had been working. Her face was no longer as thin, and Y/N could finally see her as the trouble-making girl she had always heard about.

Together, they turned the corner that led to the top of the stairs. Ominis and Sebastian stood at the bottom, speaking to one another. They hadn’t noticed them yet. The sight of Sebastian’s well-fitted black suit left her a bit breathless. She took Anne’s hand as they began down the stairs. Sebastian looked up.

If she thought she had been breathless a moment ago, now she was simply drowning . There was a softness in his eyes that traced over her, looking down at her gown and then back up to her face. For a moment, he seemed too stunned to move. And then, he smiled.

Oh, God, Y/N. Really don’t trip now.

He walked with Ominis to the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. He took a deep breath, she thought, and then… relaxed. Something about his disposition changed, ever so slightly.

Her hand slid into his as he offered it. “I can’t begin to describe how wonderful you look.”

His words made her heart race. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

He grinned, holding up his arm to escort her. “Shall we?”

She looped her arm through his. Anne and Ominis followed them. Y/N smiled. “They look happy together, don’t they?” she said softly.

Sebastian hummed in agreement. “There’s a part of me that thinks I should disapprove, but really, I couldn’t ask for someone better for my sister.”

The ballroom was decked ceiling to floor in Christmas decor. Floating lights twinkled through the air, making Y/N stare in in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Sebastian said quietly. She turned to face him, his own head swiveling away from her. Around them, couples were preparing to dance. He cleared his throat. “May I take this dance?” he said in an overly posh voice, bowing to her.

She laughed. “Careful, you’re sounding a bit like Ominis there.”

He grinned before taking her hand, leading her to the floor. A wave of nerves came over her—she wasn’t much of a dancer. Sebastian seemed to notice this. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you step on my feet. For long.”

She hit him on the shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he brought her into position, stepping closer to her. His free hand came to settle on her waist. He held it softly—she could barely feel the weight of it. It wasn’t hesitant, but… gentle. It was careful. She brought her own hand up to his shoulder—only then did she realize how close they truly were.

She could have counted every freckle on his face—and wouldn’t have minded the time it took to do so. His lashes were longer than she remembered. And his eyes—had they always had those flecks of green in them?

The music started, and he began to lead her in a dance.

Any nerves she had felt faded away once she realized how competent of a dancer Sebastian was. He led her effortlessly, bringing her in and out of twists and spins with ease. She found herself getting lost in the motions; it was rather like a duel, in some ways. Her awareness of her body was heightened, having to be ready to react to each move Sebastian made. She and Sebastian had proven themselves to be excellent dueling partners—why would dancing have been any different?

He pulled her into the basic position as the song shifted from one to another. This one was slower, less complex. It allowed them to stay face to face. Y/N grinned. “You never told me you could dance.”

He smirked a bit. “You never asked. My parents taught Anne and I when we were young. Thought it would only be proper for us to know, they at least tried to raise a gentleman.”

She chuckled. “Their efforts have been noticed. Although, it does make me wonder what other secrets my Sebastian might be hiding from me.”

His eyebrows raised. “Oh? Your Sebastian, is it?”

Her mouth opened quickly and then closed. A blush fought its way to her face. “I… This is about you and your secrets, Sebastian. Don’t try to change the subject.”

He laughed. “All in due time, my Y/N .” He didn’t give her the time to reply, pulling her into a quick spin that left her dizzy.

Several more songs came and went, each leaving the pair more restless than the last. It was only with great hesitation that Y/N asked to stop for a drink, thoroughly enjoying the exhilaration of it all. Sebastian led her to a table, returning a moment later with Butterbeer for each of them. Y/N sipped at it eagerly.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, don’t they?” Y/N said, watching Imelda dance stiffly with the Ravenclaw boy she had come with. As well as she flew, she didn’t move nearly as well on the ground. However, this fact didn’t keep her from smiling and laughing as she danced.

Sebastian nodded from beside her. “It is a bit crowded, though, don’t you think?”

She couldn’t help but agree. The room was nearly stifling. “It is a bit warm.”

“Then let’s go somewhere to cool off for a bit.” He smiled down at her, twinkle in his eye.

“Oh? Do you have something in mind?” she asked with a tilt of the head.

“You’ll see in just a moment.”

He led her out of the ballroom, and even the hallway alone gave her some fresh air she desperately needed. But they didn’t stop there. Instead, he dragged her through hallways and up staircases (and she didn’t even care how far it was—she’d go anywhere with him) until finally, they were at the top of the Astronomy tower.

The cool air hit her skin as she took deep, appreciative breaths. It had been a while since she had been up here—she hadn’t pursued a N.E.W.T. on the subject. The view was astonishing—how had she forgotten it?

Sebastian sat on the ground, overlooking the world around them. He patted the ground beside him, a clear indication to join him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been up here,” she said, sitting. The moon was dancing in and out of the clouds, its pale light reflecting off of the Black Lake below them.

“I still sneak up here sometimes, to think.”

“Isn’t that what the Undercroft’s for?”

He smiled. “Sure. But sometimes a little risk of getting caught makes things a bit more worth it. Besides, the Undercroft has nothing to this view.”

She hummed in agreement. The heat of the ballroom had disappeared by now, and she found herself starting to shiver in the cold winter air. At the very first trace of this, Sebastian removed his coat, leaning over to wrap it around her shoulders. She was grateful the moon had hidden behind a cloud, concealing the redness in her face. Old parchment and fireplaces. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He laid back on the ground, staring up at the sky above. “I’m going to be sore until next Tuesday with all that dancing we did.”

She fell back, laying beside him. “Maybe that’s their plan. Tire us all out at the beginning of the break so we don’t have energy to cause any mischief.”

He snorted. “You really think a lack of energy is enough to stop me?”

“Absolutely not. But perhaps the professors underestimated you.”

“Then I’ll have to show them how wrong they are then, won’t I?” He shifted, bringing one arm up behind his neck, resting his head on it. The other—the one next to her— stayed stretched out by his side.

She mirrored his position. “Don’t go too far. Ominis might have your head if he has to save you from expulsion. Again. ”

“He’ll forgive me. He always does.”

It was then she finally felt the heat of his gaze. She turned her head to look at him, meeting his eyes. How long had he been staring at her? There was a softness there—one that had been there all evening. She hadn’t realized it until then, but it dawned on her that the uneasiness, the fear that she had felt before the ball, had disappeared completely from the moment he smiled at her. It occurred to her that she should do something with that courage. She looked him right in the eye, a voice whispering in her mind— tell him. Just tell him you love him.

But he looked away, back up into the clouds. She let out a small sigh, doing the same. Was it really all so hopeless?

A warmth overtook her fingertips as Sebastian took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined. She could feel the calluses of his thumb brush against her knuckle.

“It’s snowing,” he said softly, barely more than a whisper.

It was. The flakes came down slowly in fluttering paths that made her head spin as she stared up at them. They caught the moonlight, flickering just like the lights in the ballroom.

“It is,” she said. “And you were right. It really is lovely.”

She half expected some witty remark, a Sebastian-esque reply of obviously , he’s always right.

But instead, he just tightened his grip on her hand and watched the snow fall around them.

Four days. That’s how long it had been since the ball, since something had shifted.

Y/N didn’t know how to explain it–-her and Sebastian hadn’t spoken about that night, yet the weight of it was felt in every moment they spent together. They both continued on, pretending to be more than friends, while toeing that very line in reality. The first day or so, this shift had given her hope. Perhaps Sebastian did feel the same. He had held her hand without the world watching. He had looked at her with that softness. It had to mean something, didn’t it?

But the days continued to pass and nothing else changed. If they were still following the initial plan, they were supposed to break the whole thing off any day now. And yet… neither of them had brought it up.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t keep living with this in-between thing, caught between a blissful lie and a heartbreaking truth. With every passing hour, it felt heavier and heavier. The words between them piled up. She worried she would soon drown in them.

They were in the courtyard when it finally happened. With the Christmas break, most students had returned home—the quiet wouldn’t last long, though. They would all be back for class the next day. Maybe the thought of the coming hustle and bustle is what drove Sebastian to speak. Y/N had cleared off a bench for the pair of them to sit at, snow lazily falling around them.

“What are we doing?”

Her eyebrows furrowed at his question. “I thought we came out here to enjoy the snow. Isn’t that what we planned on?”

He shook his head, sighing. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think we both know that’s not what I’m trying to talk about.”

Oh. Oh. “I… I’m not sure, Sebastian. If… if you want to break it off before everyone gets back, I understand. It would cause less of a stir that way.” I don’t want to break it off. I want to start over. I want to do it right this time around.

“You really want to break it off? After everything?” Where had that softness in his eyes gone?

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sebastian. Wasn’t that the plan?” Why was she getting angry at him? If he felt the same thing she did, why couldn’t he just say it?

“That damn plan. Is this really all that’s about?” His voice rose in volume. “Still some stupid ploy to keep Prewett away?” He stood up from the bench, moving to pace in front of her.

“I…” She faltered. She watched his movements, back and forth, the way his brow furrowed and his lips fell down into a frown. “I don’t know, Sebastian. Maybe this was all too much to ask from you, but you’re my best friend and I—”

He interrupted her with a scoff. “ Friend. Don’t you know how it kills me to hear you say that?” He turned to face her, eyes aflame. “Since that bloody ball, every time I’ve even thought about you in that way, it tears me to bits. Each time I look at you, all I see is that night in the Astronomy tower, you, and the snow in your hair. It took everything in me not to kiss you that night, don’t you know that?”

She swore she could hear each snowflake hit the ground in the silence that followed. “You… you wanted to kiss me?” Her voice was timid. “Why?”

“Because I love you, Y/N. That’s why.”

And there it was.

Like a dam bursting, the truth poured out. “You asked me to help you with Prewett, and of course I agreed. You’re everything to me, why would I not help you? But then I realize, well I realize it’s you, and it’s always been you. I want it to be real, Y/N. Every last bit of it. I want—”

He hadn’t processed her jumping up from the bench until her lips were pressed against his in a short kiss. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes before she pulled away. Her hand still held his cheek.

He gaped at the girl in front of him. “I… I want… what was I saying?”

She smiled— really smiled, one of those ones done more with the eyes than the mouth. “I'm pretty sure you were telling me that you love me. You kept going on about it, though, so I thought I’d interrupt to say I love you, too.”

He didn’t waste another moment before kissing her. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer than she ever thought possible. Her own hand skimmed across his cheek and then on the back of his neck, and goodness, was his hair as soft as it looked . The other hand held tightly onto the front of his coat—she swore it was the only thing keeping her on the planet.

It was him who broke the kiss, and she instinctively leaned forward to chase after his lips. He chuckled, pressing his forehead on hers. “I’ve had a thought,” he said, breathless. “I think I’d like to court you, if you’re interested.”

She laughed as he kissed the corner of her lips. “We’ve gone a bit out of order, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t care less,” he said, moving to kiss her again.

The last coherent thought she could make was that the snow made for a very, very lovely morning.

When the students all arrived the next day to continue classes, no one paid much attention to Y/N L/N and Sebastian Sallow. Old news. An obvious pairing, looking back at it. No one really cared that she wasn’t just sporting a Slytherin scarf around her neck, but a green sweater that was much too big on her.To most, there was no difference in the grins on their faces, the excitement in their voices. Well, no one except Ominis.

When Sebastian took a seat beside him, Ominis chuckled. “Seems I was right. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but his wide grin countered any annoyance he might have felt. “Don’t start.”

As Y/N sat beside him, giving a quick kiss for good morning, he thought that maybe it was ok that Ominis was right every once in a while.

A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this! I definitely had a lot of fun writing it. This is my first work with Sebastian, and I’m very much looking forward to writing more! I have plans for a few mores oneshots and a series, so stay tuned for those! Thanks for reading :)

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #fake dating au #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #idiots in love #first kiss

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intoxicated-chan · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ║ ❝𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞❞

(A/n) ➳ First chapter!! I straight up need lessons on how people flirt because I fought and I still think the flirting is VERY TERRIBLE so be warned. Enjoy!!

Word Count ➳ 2.4k

Content Warnings ➳ Talks of having children/marriage, pregnancy, alcohol use (Not drunk), TERRIBLE FLIRTING, public bathroom sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), pet names (darlin’) swearing, nearly getting caught, mentions of violence…

JUDAS MASTERLIST

THE CLOCK HAD STRUCK ELEVEN IN THE MORNING.

Your hands come under the hot water for a second before yanking them back in pain, a wince had left your lips and sighed. You turned the handle on the sink to the right, waiting a couple of seconds before you put your hand under the water again.

This time, the water became warm. You picked up the soapy and water logged sponge to continue cleaning the white plates that were covered in syrup from this morning, just two hours ago.

Shane was the first to come to your apartment, like usual. He helped you with setting up the table, cooking the sausages and eggs while you handled the pancakes and hashbrowns.

Rick, Lori, and Carl came next. Carl ran past you before you could even acknowledge it was them, he happily shouted for the pancakes and was a little disappointed. But as soon as he was picked up by Shane and put on his shoulders, his laughter filled your small apartment.

“The hashbrowns just need a couple more minutes.”

You remembered saying, letting them in and helping Lori as she was obviously pregnant. Around thirty four weeks.

“Just a couple more weeks.” She let out a groan as she was able to take off her shoes. “Then we’ll have this little sucker out of me.”

Lori and Rick agreed to keep the gender a secret, not even they know since they had already agreed on names as well.

Isabella for a girl and Liam for a boy.

You took her sweater and hung it on the coat rack. Rick had begun to pour juice into the glass cups, making sure Carl didn’t knock them over when he threw himself at the chair.

“Carefully buddy.”

“Pancakes!”

“Pancakes are comin’ in!” You hurriedly walked in with the hot pan in one hand and a stack of pancakes in the other, Shane was right behind you with the plates of scrambled eggs and cooked sausages.

That was just two hours ago.

Now, Carl was by your side, standing on a step stood with a damp rag in hand. He took each plate that you handed to him, wiping them down and carefully putting them in the dish rack.

Shane walked back to the table where Rick and Lori were still sitting, he watched as Lori tried to stifle her giggle, covering her mouth as her giggling became louder as Shane came into her view.

Shane, gathering the last few cups, asked with a grin. “What are you two scheming now?”

“Oh you know, the pregnancy, the hospital plan, and us-” Lori leaned in closer, whispering. “-Deciding when you’re going to ask (Y/n) out?”

He took a glance back at you, still focused on the dishes. “One day Lori. One day.”

“It’s been five years, I’m tired of your whinin’.” Rick retorted, leaning back in the chair and throwing an arm back.

“Where are the cups Shane?” You called out to him. “And what are y’all whisperin’ about?”

Shane went to tell Lori to hush but she spoke first, speaking over him. “That you guys make the perfect couple!” She slowly stood from her chair and made her way over to you. “A perfect marriage with kids running around, y’know?” Lori teased you.

You exchanged a quick looked with Carl who just looked back at you with curiosity. He couldn’t feel your discomfort.

“Well… I-I don’t know.” You hesitated, trying to avoid the question and find the right words.

“They do seem perfect for each other.” Rick commented.

“Can’t you imagine it?” Lori added. “A cozy home, kids playin’ in the yard with our kids. Sounds like a dream.”

You forced a smile when everyone turned to you, hiding your uncertainty. Sure, Shane was attractive, anyone would die to be with a man like him.

But settling down, marriage and having kids just didn’t sit right with you. You preferred excitement in your life, just like your high school life. Not knowing what was going to happen next, the unpredictability in your life made it even better.

Shane noticed your silence, he placed the cups in the sink and nudged you. “You alright?” He murmured to you, ignoring Rick and Lori’s conversation.

You took a couple of seconds before nodding. “Yeah, yeah, just thinkin’ about high school.”

“Feelin’ nostalgic?”

“I am.”

But Shane could sense the discomfort in your voice, something he didn’t want, you being uncomfortable around him.

“Don’t listen to ‘em. They’re jus’ jokin’.” He flashed a smile.

You poured soap on the sponge and gave it a squeeze, starting on the outside of the glass before going inside of the cup.

“Maybe Lori and Rick are right. You and me, might be somethin’ special.” He said, a playful tone clear in his voice.

You kept the same smile on as before. “You know how they are. Tryin’ to play matchmaker.”

“They could be onto somethin’. We’d make pretty good parents.”

“Look Shane, I’m not really sure about all that. Can’t we talk about it some other time?”

He adjusted his stance, now crossing his arms. “Alright, alright.”

“Did he really say that?” Andrea questioned you, wide eyed as she handed you a glass of wine that Amy poured you.

“I still can’t get it out of my head.”

“What did you say?”

You brought the wine to your lips, giving it a swirl before taking a sip of it. “I said if we can talk about it some other time.”

Amy clicked her tongue a couple of times. “Should’ve made it clear from the start.”

The three of you sat on your couch, a movie played in the background, something about an assassin in retirement but it was long forgotten when Amy noticed you couldn’t focus on the movie.

You bit your lip, setting your glass down next to you. “I know, I know. But it felt like I couldn’t.”

Andrea stood up abruptly, stopping Amy from replying. “You can’t be drinkin’ all night. We’re goin’ out.” She stated proudly, hands on her hips as a wide smile spread across her lips. “Get dressed (Y/n), we’re hittin’ Atlanta!”

You opened your mouth but Andrea put her hand in your face. “No arguments.” She marched into your room, with you and Amy following, Andrea was rummaging through your clothes. “Even if it’s just for a couple of hours, you need this.”

Amy joined in with Andrea, looking through your drawers. “A night of fun and-” Pulling out a pair of matching bra and underwear. “Pleasure~”

Once you were all dressed up, Andrea drove you all to the club that Amy once went to, commenting on the amount of men who rode motorcycles.

And she was right, motorcycle upon motorcycle lined up in the front of the club. You all excited the car in laughter and nervousness.

“How’s my makeup?” Amy asked, looking at herself in the car’s mirror. “Shit, I think my eyeliner is uneven.”

Andrea pulled her by her arm, “Who cares? We’re here to have fun!”

You all entered the club with ease, you all were immediately crowded. After all it was a saturday night, drinks were flowing and music blasted loudly that you could barely hear yourself.

But you all remained together as you drank, except Andrea as she was the driver. But that didn’t stop her from having fun with you.

She practically forced you onto the dance floor after a couple of drinks as she thought it would help and it surely did.

Blinded by the flash on Amy’s phone, she recorded you all dancing and screaming your lungs out on the song that played.

You definitely needed to listen to the sisters more cause this was a night you needed, it wasn’t like morning brunch with the four of them.

You felt that familiar excitement in your veins, and your body dancing on its own… You didn’t consume many drinks, maybe because you wanted to remember this night, not by videos and photos, but by your own memory.

You laughed as Andrea helped you move to the calmer side of the club as she recognized your tiredness.

“Never knew you could pull those moves!” She shouted over the music, leaning close to you.

“Neither did I!” You threw your head back, snickering. “Can you order me some water?!”

“What?!”

“Water!”

“Okay!” She turned her back to you and faced the bartender.

You panted, trying to catch your breath. You felt your phone vibrating and pulled it out, seeing a call from Shane.

It was like the music went silent, everything around you froze as you stared at his name… You watched it ring, his name on big on the screen.

You looked up from your phone to call for Amy or Andrea but you spotted someone else.

A man with a black leather jacket. ‘JUDAS’ was printed on his back in white lettering with white dots circling the name and the skull and bones.

He sat alone, a drink in his gloved hand. Black sunglasses rested next to his arm and a black and white bandana was wrapped around his neck.

“Water!” Andrea’s booming voice knocked you out of your stare, taking the water, Andrea noticed you’re staring and immediately found who you were looking at.

“Think he’s in a band?” Amy laid her head on your shoulder.

“No way, looks too gloomy to be in a band.” Andrea retorted. “Nice clothes though.”

You dismissed both of them. “Leave him alone.”

“Alone? Girl, he looks like your type! Go for it!” Amy scoffed and pushed you.

You shoved your phone back into your purse and walked towards him, glass of water in hand. If the drinks gave you confidence to dance, surely it will help now.

You took the empty seat across from his and crossed your legs, one over the other. “Cool jacket.” You complimented. “Where’d you get it from?”

He eyed you for a moment before he looked away. “Ain’t yer business.”

That caught you off your guard… “Must be a tale worth tellin’ or you just like scarin’ people.”

“A very long and winded tale. And scarin’ folks… There’s more than one way to scare somebody than usin’ a jacket.”

“I ain’t easily scared. Makes it more fun.”

“What’s so fun ‘bout some jacket?”

You shrugged. “Maybe it’s the challenge of findin’ out who you are.”

He clicked his tongue, setting down his drink. “Ain’t gonna be easy darlin’.”

You leaned in closer. “Good thing I like challenges.”

(May I have some tips on flirting, please. I’m very desperate…)

“Fuck!”

You and Daryl didn’t waste time when he brought you to the bathroom of the club. He hiked up your dress and ripped your underwear off you, not without commenting on the choice first.

You threw your head back, your legs tightened around Daryl’s waist.

He had you pushed up against the wall, his face shoved into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses.

He desperately thrusted into you, breathing heavily. He fucked you up against the bathroom stall.

Both of his hands held your ass, leaving you to cling onto him.

You were left stuttering over your words. “Like that.” You said, over and over again. “Just like that! God, just like that!”

For a second, your breathing stopped and you froze, your eyes immediately shut as you came around his cock.

Yet you didn’t complain when he still continued fucking you. You felt a smile form as he fucked you past your orgasm.

“Ya gotta keep quiet.” Daryl panted in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your back. The music was still loud, even in the bathroom.

You tried but his cock kept slamming into your g-spot. You were unable to contain your gasps and moans.

“Shut up dammit.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry ain’t good enough.”

You shoved your face into his shoulder, feeling the leather of his jacket, smelling his cologne and cigarettes.

He didn’t stop nor slow down, thrusting into you like his life depended on it, using you as a stress relief.

You felt the same coil once again, feeling it throb, pooling in your abdomen.

“Imma-!”

“(Y/n)?!”

You were dragged out of your daze and pulled away from him, nearly falling in the process. “The hell?” Daryl luckily caught you.

But you hushed him, slipping your flimsy underwear back on.

It was Amy. “(Y/n)? Andrea said she saw you comin’ in here.” You heard her footsteps coming closer to the stall you were in.

“Stay here.” You mumbled to him, soothing your dress and coming out of the stall before she could reach it.

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god, I thought you were dead when Andrea said she saw you comin’ in here with the guy.” She looked over your shoulder. “Where is he?”

“Um, we talked and I… I got his number.” You lied, still trying to reel back.

“Really?! Oh my god! You gotta tell us!” She grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the bathroom. “We’re headin’ home!”

“What? Why?”

“Andrea, punched a guy.”

“Is she okay?!”

“Oh yeah!” Amy smiled and pointed to Andrea who was waiting by the exit. “Let’s go home!”

You closed the door behind you, Andrea dropped you off since she had to get Amy home quickly, she had a feeling she was going to vomit.

You kicked off your heels, sighing and your feet felt the relief of no longer wearing those heels.

You began to take off your earrings and walked to your bedroom when you heard knocking.

You carefully came to the door and slowly opened it, having a clear confused look on your face. Even more when Daryl stood there.

You looked around first before coming back to him. “...How did you find where I live?”

Daryl held up a bag, your bag. “Left it in the bathroom. Ran out ‘fore I could say anythin’.”

You took the bag, still wary. “Well, thanks. But how did you know where to go?”

Daryl shrugged, a relaxed expression on his face. “Saw yer ID. Figured it ain’t far.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Stalker tendencies, Daryl?”

“Just lookin’ out for a damsel in distress.”

You giggled. “I’m sure losing my bag ain’t bein’ in distress, but points for effort.”

“I’ll be in town for a couple months, see ya ‘round?”

“You wanna come in for a bit? I gotta thank you for gettin’ my bag.”

“Ya gonna run off again?”

“Maybe.”

Daryl stepped closer. “Maybe?” He grinned again.

You grabbed his hand and led him into your apartment and shut the door before. You didn’t have a second to react before he was already on you.

This was definitely a night you did not fucking regret.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown ,

» » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 2 ⊰

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

Text

"Four Crows Investigation" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[vulgar language]

[Part 2 - Lovebirds' Outfox]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

SUMMARY: After Nina makes a passing comment about Brekker’s heartbeat, three crows join her in an investigation to uncover the true nature of your relationship with Kaz.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

Sitting around the table, leaning forward in a secretive manner, the four Crows look nothing short of a conspiracy. Their appearance is in no way deceptive - that’s exactly the reason for their meeting. Nina looks between Jesper’s and Wylan’s shoulders, checking whether you and Kaz are in any way suspicious of their gathering. For now, you look a little too preoccupied with each other. Time for the final conference.

The Heartrender leans even further towards her friends, looking between them with a questioning gaze. She seems to be the most excited about this ‘secretive investigation’, as she called it a week ago, but that should not come as a surprise - all of this has been her idea from start to finish. The moment she noticed Kaz’s heartbeat significantly pick up when you showed up in a ball gown in an attempt to mix in with the immorally wealthy crowd at the banquet, Nina simply had to know more. Her friends, although reluctant at first, joined the scheme out of their own meddling.

“So, what did you manage to find out?” She’s trying to keep her voice quiet but the sheer excitement makes it difficult.

“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Wylan stutters out while shaking his head gently. He may be part of a crime syndicate now but spying on his friends, and his boss, just seems too far.

“Because we care about them?” Jesper asks with fake worry in his voice. Then, a devious smile appears on his face. “And we’re morbidly curious.”

“Can’t we just ask them, then?”

“As if either of them is going to say something,” Inej grunts. Knowing both of you fairly well, she never expected a straightforward question to get anything outside of a snarky comment or a side-eye.

Nina impatiently taps her hand on the table. “Alright, who goes first?”

╚ Jesper’s Evidence ╝

He knows Kaz is going to get angry the moment he walks through the door but, at the same time, Jesper’s kind of out of options. As much as he hates to admit it to himself and definitely will not do it aloud, he’s facing an impasse.

The moment he pushes the door open, your and Kaz’s eyes snap towards him. He makes a note of your shoulders - brushing against one another as you’re standing over scattered papers, a little too close for practicality or for the closeness to be accredited to accident. You’re definitely giving the impression that he walked in at an inconvenient moment.

But Jesper is good at bluffing, never giving away that he noticed the thought-provoking lack of space between you. “Carliogne won’t talk unless he sees the contract you signed with Bruglione,” he informs. “His reasoning is that we’re probably trying to fuck him over.”

Kaz stares at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. “We are,” he finally answers.

“Well, he doesn’t need to know that for now, does he?”

“It makes sense,” you speak up. Pondering, you nod to yourself. “If he sees the contract, he’ll become less cautious and playing him should be even easier. Just wait a second,” you wave your hand at Jesper, “I think I put it in the bottom drawer.”

The moment you crouch behind the desk, Jesper’s eyes catch movement - Kaz is covering the edge of the table over your head with his hand. Considering that he’s looking at papers in the opposite direction, he might not even be aware of this little habit. The gunslinger stifles a smile. Nina is going to love this.

Soon, you stand back up at the protective hand reaches to flip through a wad of documents as though nothing has happened. Extending your arm towards Jesper, you offer him the folded contract between your two fingers.

“Please, don’t get it stained.”

“Can’t make promises,” he says with a cheeky smile as he snatches the paper from you.

Jesper hears your groan right before he closes the door behind himself.

╚ Wylan’s Evidence ╝

Wylan rarely got ‘field work’ aside from setting up explosives. The out-of-ordinary occasions were stake-outs, when he’d sit in one place for hours on end waiting for something to happen, having only Jesper’s company to pass the time - not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, that’s the only part that makes those ‘patrol duties’ bearable.

Although he feels uneasy creepily watching, he’s supposed to wait for an agreed-on sign to carry out his part in the plan. And with Jesper gone to the bathroom, the responsibility of staying vigilant is his only. Sitting on the carriage bench, he has a good view of the street but most of his attention surrounds a certain table at a boulangerie near the junction. You and Kaz are doing a great job at looking common - just drinking coffee, chatting, completely run-of-the-mill people and definitely not hardened criminals ready to call their companions to action when their prey is in sight.

Wylan suddenly sits up, hardly believing the scene unfolding before his eyes: you offer Kaz your bagel and he just… bites it. No glares, no scowls, he just takes a bite and you continue the conversation. Maybe Nina was right and something is up.

The carriage shakes slightly as Jesper gets back on it. “What did I miss?” he asks in an upbeat voice.

╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝

It’s the middle of the night but Inej rarely works at other times. Only one thing stands between her and the comfort of her bed - Kaz. She’s well-aware that he’s still going to be working at this hour, making her wonder once more: when does he rest?

Kaz seems to be expecting her as he doesn’t even flinch when she barges into his office. He just looks up at her for a moment, only to return to writing something. Inej is about to tell him what Lorenzzo Carliogne had been up to during the day, when her eyes focus on a surprising singularity: the daybed standing in the corner of the office, used as an additional shelf or a desk most of the time, is occupied. First, she realizes that it’s you sleeping on it but then another, a much more interesting detail, catches her eye in the dim candlelight of the room - you’re covered with a coat that undoubtedly looks like it belongs to Kaz.

“I take it there’s a reason you’re here at this hour?” Brekker brings her attention back to himself.

“Yes,” she starts, sparing you one last glance before looking at Kaz, “Carliogne lives with his wife and three children. Staff comes in through a separate pair of doors, only the main chef and butler have keys to it. There’s a rotation in guards during lunch.”

“Good,” he answers. Kaz looks up at Inej but again, it’s just for a moment - his focus is soon directed at the papers in front of him.

A silence falls. The thought to inquire about you, the daybed and his coat passes her thoughts but an instinct dissuades her from doing so. Because realistically, what sort of answer would Kaz give her anyway? It’s better to spare herself the snark and just go to bed.

The four friends look between each other, curious whether all of them came to the same conclusion. Tense excitement hangs in the air. There is a certain aspect of juvenile nosyness that entices them, making this whole over-the-top operation fun and not just a gossip convention.

A pout twists Nina’s face. It would have looked sad if it wasn’t for her raised eyebrows, making her expression more compassionate than woeful. “They’re so in love it’s kind of embarrassing,” she announces.

Three pairs of eyes follow her pitiful gaze to the faraway table where you’re sitting with Kaz, oblivious to the interest the Crows have in you. It looks like you’re retelling him a story, gesturing wildly with one of your hands, while the other is kept on the table, underneath his gloved fingers. Kaz is just nodding along, answering something shortly from time to time.

“Just look at them,” Jesper says with a sense of misguided pride as though he had some contribution in the makings of the couple. He’s shaking his head with amusement. “How could we ever had any doubts?”

“Do you think they know that we know?” Wylan asks quietly.

Inej shrugs. “I don’t think they care.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #sab #soc #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows #six of crows x you

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bon2bonn · 5 months

Text

In daydreams with me

Charles leclerc X female!reader X Max Verstappen

This is set in an au! With CEO!Max and professor! Charles .

Words count : 1.7k

*I'm in my lestappen mood so here we are ✨

The shuffling beside (y/n) snapped her attention away from the book she was reading for the past half hour or so , looking down as a low groan came from Max when he turned around, moving to settle his head on her stomach with his face buried in her (Charles's) oversized shirt With one arm around her as she cradled her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion .

He was still tired from pulling an all-nighter the night before , receiving an emergency meeting call due to some mixed up in emails causing his day to bile up with calls and online meeting until the early hours of the day locked away in his office . Leaving you and Charles to take care of him , bringing him meals and water every now and then even little Alec and baby Mila would pop in to give him a hug sharing candy to lift up his mood or to just say hi , her and Charles stayed up checking on him through the night even though he'd scold them both not to on his behalf but he still grateful for their care .

And instead of cancelling the next day he insisted on going , for it's rare for them and their families to find time to gather without someone having to cancel due to mixed schedule , so they took the chance to spend the day out at sea as her father invited them all to his yacht for the day , having more space for the kids to roam around and their parents to spend relaxing time with family away from the bustling city .

They were to first to arrive followed by Sophie and Victoria along with her boys both exited to spend time with their cousins , then the leclercs and her brother came last , late as usual, getting teased by everyone as he made up excuses . And it didn't take long for them to set sails leaving the harbour behind .

Everyone got comfortable chatting and catching up on what's life been since the last gathering , the kids ever the energy balls they are now doubled with them reunited it was a havoc in the making but they stayed well behaved playing and chatting their uncles ears off about something they thought .

Baby Mila stayed with her grandad babbling on with him about God knows what both content as he went around with her clinging to him , refusing to let go even when Charles tried to take her leaving him with a permanent pout until Luka came running up to him to tell him about something , getting his full attention within seconds .

That left her with Pascale , Sophie and Victoria to stay in the shade , carrying on catching up from where they left the conversation with them when the meals were served . Starting with upcoming birthdays parties and planning on going to camping trips before the end of summer break , up to discreetly trying to set the youngest (her brother and Arthur) up on dates , but that would take more planning and scheming .

Around midday max found his way to her , greeting her with a kiss and a tired smile as he crawled up on the couch beside her , he must ran out of energy as it shows in his dropping eyes and slow steps . humming with half closed eyes as he saw the closed book that lays on the side , she took note waiting for him to settle before she grabbed it and started reading to him in a soothing tone running her fingers through his hair massaging his scalp lightly , not two minutes later she felt his breathing slowed and his body relaxed as he drifts to sleep with his arm draped around her waist , Charles came by a couple of times having seen Max walking up the second floor to her tiredly , he worried about him but he felt relieved as he found him cuddled up to her fast asleep so he left them with kisses on both their heads before going back down .

And now as he woke up still drowsy from his deep slumber but more rested than before , looking up at her apologetically " sorry lifeenje I kept you here all day " she shook her head "no , don't worry love . We still got the whole weekend ahead , and I'm glad you took some rest " giving him a kiss on the head , going back to read with Max now having his head on her shoulder following the lines with his eyes she read them aloud , but stopped as both looked up as Charles approached them leaning over to greet them with kisses before sitting beside them , reaching to take Max's hand in his giving it a squeeze after placing a kiss on the back of it , " how do you feel Mon Amour?" Max smiled up at him interlocking their fingers before answering " I'm alright now lieveling , how is it down there ? " Charles only groaned " I'm about to throw Arthur off deck , (B/N) too if they kept teasing me , and Enzo is ditching me for the kids , I'm not going down there anytime soon !" Both laughed at his dramatic act as he laid on top of them groaning dramatically " even my Mila won't comfort me ! What a cruel world!" Glaring at them playfully he added " don't laugh at my misery !" .

Y/n gave him comforting pats on his back " you know they love to target you the most , it's their way to show their love for you" Charles gave her a disbelieving look " they bully me!" She shrugged at him " it's the same thing" causing him to groan again as Max agreed to her statement before moving to squeeze himself between them , they both gave sounds of protest as he shifted and turned moving them to the sides as he settled himself face down , his head on her shoulder now and his arm going around Max who moved back to give them more space to lay comfortably as they could be with them tangled with each other , but nevertheless enjoying the silence and the lull of the waves .

It didn't take long for Alec to make his way to his parents , both tired and crashing down from the sugar rush he had after his youngest uncles snuck him and his cousins, leaving them cranky and tired , so now he's done for the day making his way straight to his mother's side , climbing and settling between her and Charles and reaching over demanding Max to hold his hand , who did after he leaned over to plant a kiss on his head , drifting as his parents watched over him fondly .

They talked quietly among themselves, minding their sleeping boy as they spoke in a hushed tone getting lost in their conversation , but they turned their heads as a distraught (B/N) with Arthur beside him held out a pouting Mila with her fists balled and up as if ready to fight , her nose scrunched up and her frown is permanent as she whines at her parents , Max chuckled at their state after one look at them , their hair looked like birds nests , and they looked like they've been through a fight and they both lost . He reached carefully to take her from their outstretched arms before asking in amusement as she immediately clutched onto him " what have you done to get her this upset?" , They both scoffed at her as she turned to glare up at them " we did nothing! your spawn got offended! , she saw us teasing Charles and went for blood!" , Causing the little girl to glare even more as she took what looked to them as a threatening sniff before looking up at her dad innocently pointing at her uncles with a whine her mother looked mildly amused as her and Charles cooed over her " my baby would never! , Right Mila ? " Charles agreed as he took her next prepping kisses around her face causing her to let out joyous giggles"that's right, my Mila is too sweet to do such thing! Look at her , is this the face of someone who can do such thing!?" He held her up to their faces as he stood up , careful not to wake the sleeping boy , and both of them stepped back as she reach out her small hand to them .

Pascale sat back along with Sophie , both watching in amusement as their little granddaughter reached out her grabby hands giggling as Charles held her up chasing after the Arthur and (B/N) , voicing in a joking manner " I believe that (B/N) and Arthur thought they were invincible and nothing could touch them , but God sent Mila to humble them both " , Charles laughed the loudest as he sat down helping her to balance her feet while holding her arms "is that right Milly ?, You were defending dada ! That's my baby ! Teach them not to mess with me " she gave him a wide toothless smile as she kicked her feet as if agreeing with him both now grinning as they made their way down to follow their new quest of scaring her uncles and claiming revenge for Charles .

Max watched them disappearing down the stairs giving Y/N a thoughtful look " imagine if she could walk ", she countered back equally amused " imagine if she have teeth !" Max made an ooooh sound before they both started chuckling but stopped as the boy who now slept in hi mother's arms shifted slightly but kept sleeping , giving eachother a knowing smile as they settled back hearing Arthur's and her (B/N) shout's followed by the girl's giggles " get her away from me ! , Charles I'm telling Maman on you!" , Charles taunted them both " tell her what , little Mila just wants to show you her love , isn't that right Milly? " Followed with loud squeal from the said girl as in confirmation .

Max turned his head with thoughtful look as he asked " should we held them ? " She shrugged then shook her head " they deserve it " .

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ghouljams · 4 days

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The only foil Gaz has in his little scheme of fucking his pretty clients? Rich business man Price and his pretty wife. Prices’ wife? The most oblivious bimbo he’d ever met. He wants to nail her *so* bad but, she doesn’t pick up on his ‘double meanings’ or anything! She just paid his estimate outright, (full price! The jacked up price!!! wtf?)

“I’m sorry, I’m not good at manual labor!!! I’d probably knock down the building, lol!” And prances off. She dresses like a tease, tiny skirts, tight shirts, heels, nice hair, pretty makeup.

She’s got daddy Price paying for her and Price finds deep, endless amusement in Gaz going crazy trying to get her to understand what type of ‘manual labor’ he’s talking about. Every time Gaz tries to flat out tell her he wants to f- Price walks by, blue balling Gaz because he can’t proposition his clients wife right in front of him!!! Gaz gets blue balled *again.*

And Price keeps hiring him too! He has the money, so why not? Gaz really amuses him, it turns him on to have someone chasing after his pretty wife *so* bad, and imagine how great it will be when Price finally lets Gaz have her?

Maybe they can have Gaz over for just sex without the fake excuse of ‘building’ or ‘remodeling’

(Bonus: if Price overhears Gaz’s double entendres, he comes in bends over the marble counter like ‘oooooh, this is how I get the discount, I can do that’ because he thinks Blue collar Gaz is hot too, why does his wife get to be the only one nailed over their new counter? And his wife is like ‘oh- oooooh! OOOOOOH!’ Sparkles in her eyes ‘now’ she get’s it!!! Well why didn’t he just *say* so!!! And drops to her knees. Yeah, They all take the new marble counter for a spin.)

The problem... the problem...

The problem is I want Gaz to fuck that old man over the marble counter now. Gaz plays for both teams, if he can't get the bimbo wife, he'll take the hot older husband. Price wants to bend over the counter, Gaz'll press his hand firm between Price's shoulders and his hips firm against his ass. A little surprising for Price, he was joking(sort of) because that's the fun of it. His wife isn't getting it but he is, and it should be a good haha laugh it off moment of "I know what you've been doing." But Gaz presses his weight down against Price and tells him he'll do just as well.

"Can probably take it better than the bird, isn't that right sir?" He murmurs, his cock already starting to stiffen against Price.

The ideal end to this scenario is Gaz fucking Price over that shiny new counter, Price's eyes rolling back as he grunts out moans and Gaz bites his shoulder, pretty wife sat on her knees behind Gaz licking his balls and occasionally dipping back to eat his ass. Both of them really should be thanking him for doing so much work on their house, and for teasing him so long. He wants Price white knuckling the counter, shooting his load all over his wife's tits as she tongues Gaz's ass. He'll fill Price and then move on to the bird.

"When's the last time someone took care of you properly," Gaz asks Price, leaning back to spread Price's cheeks apart, watching his cock getting swallowed greedily with each thrust. Price mumbles out some answer, well before he was married, and sorely missed. Gaz hums with a smile, "Might have to start staying late then, make sure you're satisfied with my services."

Don't think Gaz isn't eager to get the wife over the counter too. Stripping the condom off his thick cock when he's done with Price and lifting the giggly wife off her knees to fuck her raw. Normally he's safer about this sort of thing, never know where a housewife has been, but he doubts she's smart enough to be sleeping around. So he bounces her on his cock until she's shaking and clinging to him, stifling moans by biting his shoulder. He'll leave her dripping come so Price can eat it out of her.

"You know," Gaz tells them, gathering his things, "You really could do with a couple French doors out to the garden."

"When can you start?" Price asks.

"How's tomorrow work?" Gaz grins.

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz garrick #captain price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #gaz x price #cod x reader #x reader #f!reader #blue collar au #i dont know what happened there #I want that old man moaning

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myfictionaldreams · 6 months

Note

Hey :) i would love to ask for a spicy Lucius Malfoy x Reader ☺️ something like Reader is a young Teacher in Hogwarts and Lucius and her are having an (very serious) affair (takes Place in the chamber of secrets).

The School Governor //Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I've never written Lucius before, but hopefully, you'll enjoy it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, infidelity/cheating, secret relationship, rough sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, tension, praise kink, size difference, Narcissa bashing (sorry!), kissing, fluff/angst

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚

AO3 Link

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here at this time of day, Mr Malfoy?”

The corner of the man’s lip twitched up like he was trying to smile but attempting to conceal it by remaining stoic. You were then faced with his signature sneer, those piercing grey eyes wandering over your appearance as if he was assessing whether he even wanted to waste his time. “It seems I’ve become lost on my travels around Hogwarts. Might you show me the way out?” Lucius asked with disdain thick in his voice

“Of course, Sir. Just this way”, you pointed in the direction you’d just walked from. No one even blinked an eye in either of your directions as you led him away from the grouping of students who were all on their way to bed as the night drew closer to curfew.

Your head remained forward, not once looking over your shoulder to check if he was following as you knew that he would be. You thanked Merlin for having an office so far away from students and other professors as the main offices were already lived in. You were new to the school, recently hired to assist Madam Pomfrey with Herbology, as she was too busy trying to attend to the Mandrakes.

The job may have been due to the recommendations of the man following closely behind you, his cane clicking against the stone floor and billowing close, switching the dust in whichever direction he turned.

As you both approached further towards the greenhouses and, thus, your office, there was a blossoming of heat and anticipation spreading from the centre of your chest to the tip of your toes. This was always something that your body seemed to do whenever within arms reach of the school’s governor. Moreover, he always seemed to be at the school nowadays, stating that he was there on school business, especially with the latest attacks on the students.

This is just an excuse, however, pretending to look around the school to catch the Headmaster in a scheme, but really, he would be sneaking to your classroom, office or meeting in the Forbidden Forest.

It was wrong. More than wrong. He had a wife, whom he was incredibly unhappy with, having been forced into a marriage as soon as he’d finished his time as a student at Hogwarts. All to abide by the pure blood status and traditions without any sort of say in the matter. Forced to live a life of misery, reproduce and have heirs and then die in a loveless marriage.

This was the only reason you had continued to meet with him. The ache in your heart quickly succumbs to his negative life. You knew he was manipulative, quick-tempered and had questionable ideologies on the dark arts. But when it came to Lucius Malfoy, it was as if your mind purposefully ignored these warning signs, mainly because he never discussed or acted in a horrible way around you.

You were always his peace and tranquillity, his little saviour in the dark before the world's realities came crumbling down around him. There you were, gifted with the raw, passionate, and incredibly loving man who held your hand when walking past, stroking your cheek to catch any slipped tears when it was time to say goodbye for a few more weeks.

It was a complex relationship to have and made even more so when you were now having to teach his son, Draco, who seemed to be a smaller copy of his Father, to be even more arrogant at his young age. It meant that you could give him additional help to boost his grades and, therefore, please his father, which, in turn, helped bring positivity into the secret relationship.

As you were greeted with the view of the long corridor that led to your office, your steps slowed as Lucius snapped, “Dobby. Check the area is clear for any prying eyes”.

With a flash out of the corner of your eyes, Dobby appeared and disappeared, apparating further down the corridor in multiple positions to check if the two of you were truly alone.

“The area is clear, Master”, Dobby approached before disappearing completely. You and Lucius rushed the remaining way to the office. You opened the door wide enough for him to follow through and slammed closed. As your wand waved in front of the handle, thoroughly locking the two of you in, a hand gripped your hip, turning your body so that your back met the door's wood.

A leathery gloved hand then cupped your jaw, tilting your face back so that Lucius could kiss you with as much desperation and urgency as you felt in the centre of your chest. It almost hurt with how much pressure his face was applying to yours, his warm breath fanning across the apple of your cheeks with where his nose was pressing. Your hands lifted to grab any part of him and ended up clinging onto the opening of his cloak, harshly tugging him even closer until there wasn’t a gap between your bodies.

Releasing a soft moan from your throat, this seemed to begin moving further, both gloved hands now cupping both of your cheeks in a safe cocoon as his thumbs caressed careful circles against your skin.

The coldness of the material wasn’t enough to satisfy your need for him as you dipped your head to free your mouth. “Off! I need your clothes off!”

Lucius’s baritone laugh burst across your face as he stepped back to give the two of you some room. “Such a demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

“I am when you’re wearing so many layers! Take them off!”

He chuckles at your reaction once more but finally begins to remove the cloak from his shoulders and gloves from his hands, next attempting to undo the luxurious vest jacket that he wore. The buttons running down the middle were taking too long for him to undo, so you quickly gripped either side of the best and pulled hard, surprised by your strength as the buttons began to pop off and tumble.

“Do you know how expensive this was?” he asked incredulously, but humour still danced behind his bright eyes.

“I’ll fix it at the end”, you say breathlessly, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heated kiss. A perfect mix of lips, teeth and tongue, all moving together, nipping, licking and sucking. Neither mouth pulled apart from the other, making the actions more frantic and chaotic with the attempts to remove more of the clothing articles. Soon, you both became frustrated by the barriers and settled for the basics.

Leaving your jumper and skirt on, you kicked off the shows, tights and underwear you’d been wearing as Lucuius kept his white shirt on but undid his leather belt to loosen his trousers and boxers until they were around his knees.

Lucius pulled back from the heated kiss first, but only so he could turn you around and push you face-first against the door. You huffed at the impact but soon were groaning in pleasure as he lifted your skirt and began to rock his dick against your folds, teasing you with gentle pressure before finding its home in your warm cunt.

“Silenco”, Lucius whispers, waving his hand as the atmosphere becomes dense as the spell renders the area soundproof. With the safety of the spell, your mouth fell open, and a barrel of dirty moans left your lips as you didn’t hold back from telling him how good it felt to be stretched by his cock once more.

Lucius dipped his height so that his forehead could rest against your cheek, breathing heavily as he thrust hard and deep. The pace was bruising to the side of your face, resting against the door, but nothing in the world would get you to stop at that moment. To be able to feel his thick length fucking hard into your pussy was something you craved every day.

As your hand reached the back of his head, gripping his silky white-blond hair, you gasped, “I’ve missed you”.

Lucuius groans as he nuzzles into your neck, biting the skin just below your ear as his arm moves around your waist, angling your hips so your arse is sticking out slightly so he can deepen the thrusts.

“I’ve missed you too, little witch. So much more than you could ever know”. Your heart could have stopped at his words, falling even more in love with him than you had before, which tightened your drenched walls even further around him. “I know you’re close. I want to feel you cum around my cock Darling, cum for me like the good witch I know you are”.

As he praises you, the arm around your waist slips beneath the front of your skirt so that he can roll your clit in circles, matching the pace of his hips. Your thighs tremble, fingers clenching his hair until it hurt, but Lucius didn’t stop until you were crying out in pleasure, cunt clamping in spasms around his length, and he, too, joined you through his own orgasm.

Lucius didn’t stop rolling his hips until you were sated and calm from cumming, and his seed had soaked as deep as he possible, caressing your cervix and then dripping out down your thighs. The two of you sighed in contentment, staying together, pushed against the wall, and just appreciating the moment you had tangled against one another.

“I didn’t expect to see you for at least another week. Have you come because of the attacks?”

“I feel as a good Govenor; my answer should be yes”, he whispered against the shell of your ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth, causing goosebumps to rise down your arms. “I can’t deny, however, that it was you that brought me here. I meant it when I said I missed you”.

Even with his softening cock still inside of you, he knew how to make your knees tremble as you blew out a long breath as you asked, “Can you please stay?”

You could feel his shoulders dropping and knew his answer before he’d even begun to speak, and sadness spread through your body, replacing the euphoric sensation. Lucius gently kissed the back of your head as he carefully eased himself away from you, “I’m sorry, my love, you know I can’t”.

Smiling to hide the upset, you turned to him, “I know. I’m sorry I always ask; I just hope that one day you’ll be able to say yes”.

His warm hands cup your cheeks delicately as you do the same for him, carefully moving some of the messy strands behind his ears. “I’m sorry”, he says earnestly.

“Could you stay for a drink at least?”

“I would never say no to a drink with you”. Lucius began to dress, looking significantly more chaotic than before but always looking crisp before leaving. All you managed to do was pick up your discarded clothes and shows, straighten your jumper and wait for him to wave his wand between your legs, cleaning up the mess he had created with a smile.

Walking further into the office, you entered through the hidden door at the back of the room leading directly into your living area. The fire sparked to life as soon as you stepped onto the roof, instantly filling the vast space with heat and an orange hue. Pouring the both of you a hefty glass of dark liquid, you both cheered the glasses together, taking a deep swig of the alcohol that burned your throat deliciously and then settled into the sofa.

You sat remarkably relaxed with him, leaving your bare legs thrown over his lip as his arm settled around your shoulders to keep you close as you watched the fire lights dancing with the flickers of the flames.

“He’s nearly top of the class, but I think he’d have a hard time trying to best both Longbottom or Granger”, you explained sometime later as Lucius asked how Draco was fairing in your class. The man scoffs, only earning him a slap to his chest, “Hey! They’re my students; stop that”. Thankfully, he held his tongue and didn’t prattle on his biased opinions on pure-bloods or traitors, which he had quickly learnt was nothing you were particularly focused on. “Could I ask about what the governors are going to do about the attacks? I don’t want them to close the school, but it feels so dangerous now that students are being attacked”.

Lucius’ arm tightens around your shoulder as his lips press against your temple. “Nothing will harm you, Darling, and I’ve told you this already: I can’t speak of the Governor meetings. We’re sworn to secrecy”.

“It’s not me I’m worried for. It’s the children. It means - aren’t you worried about Draco?”

Your head tilts back on his arm so you can look up into his effortlessly handsome face, expecting him to be worried. However, he only appeared to be as calm and in control as ever, his grey eyes dancing with yours and the bottom lip you’d tucked between your teeth.

“Not at all. He’s in the safest house with the safest blood. I have no worries for my son”. His answer confused you, but you’d just put it down to his many prejudices and superiority complex. Reach up to stroke the smooth sin of his jaw, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean closer and kiss him deeply, tasting the alcohol on his tongue that matched your own.

“What’s it like?” you ask between kisses, unable to stop yourself from asking. “At home, I mean, what’s it like? Do you have any happiness at all?”

“You know I’m not happy and never will be with her”, he answers abruptly, to look at you with a questioning gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know you hate her”. You refuse to say her name both from shame and jealousy. “Do you have anything else that brings you joy? I hate the thought of you being alone in a big house with no one to give you any positivity”.

The hand lazily resting across your calves begins to draw circles into the skin as he contemplates his answer. “Without Draco there, I have no one. Narcissa and I may eat meals together, but that’s as far as it goes. We never talk; we even sleep in separate rooms. Everything is always for show, which is why these moments with you, where I get to be with someone I genuinely love, mean the most to me”.

You shake at his words, feeling the edges of your eyes water as you cling to him with even more desperation. What's more, the hand on your calf was beginning to slowly creep up the sensitive area of your inner thigh, distracting you from continuing the conversation as your legs automatically parted, giving him more room.

“Lucius”, you pleaded, eyes following his long fingers, the thick silver ring with the ‘M’ wrapped around his thumb adding extra sensitivity with the coolness of it against your skin.

“Shh, I’ve got you, little witch. Just relax for me”, he whispered against your temple as his fingers finally reached their goal. Your head tipped onto his shoulder as your back arched. All of your thoughts were centred on the skillfully trained fingers as he explored your dampening folds, spreading them with ease to give his middle finger the path to your eagerly awaiting hole.

You were a mewling mess as he eased two fingers into your cunt, coating the digits in your juices and rocking them in and out carefully. Lucius began to move the arm around your shoulders, relaxing his hold so he could lie you down on the sofa as he leaned over you, his mouth hovering just above yours.

“Are you going to be good for me, my Darling?” he asks, his warm breath teasing you once more as your legs try to clamp his hand in place.

“Yes!” Your shout was abrasive, but only because he’d already caused you to become a pathetic mess. Lucius smiled against your lips but didn’t move to kiss you properly as he applied more pressure with his fingers and thumb and stroked your clit.

You could feel his soft hair falling around your face as he began to curl his fingers inside of you, pounding that one spot within you that had you seeing stars. You weren’t able to say a coherent word as moisture squirted from your cunt, coating his fingers and wrist as he continued the action at a hard and fast pace.

The sloshing noise was obscene to your ears as he made you squirt over your thighs, sofa and his black trousers. You weren’t even sure you’d came as everything went from 0-100 with how intense his fingers had made you feel.

When he slowed his curling digits, you were a gooey mess in his arms. A grin erupted across your face as he sighed into the cushions, leaning further into his chest as he kissed your temple, allowing you to catch your breath.

“I must go; it’s getting late. You know I love you, my little witch”.

“I love you too, Mr Malfoy”.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy one shot #harry potter smut #hp smut #mine*

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