#anyway i just wanted to let off some steam . this is exhausting

[strawglicks]

The people complaining abt the pride cape on the graham plushie, when theyre not just being outwardly homophobic, are saying its not part of his design in-game so it shouldn’t be there

The pride flag is a symbol for the rights we’ve fought for because, idk if you knew this, but members of the lgbt community have been uh. Murdered? Outlawed? Hate crimed? Theyre oppressed? Idk if you knew that lol

Pride flags are not just a silly thing, they represent years of fighting for our rights, to not be scrutinized. And just because we can legally get married in the U.S doesnt suddenly erase all the, still, very rampant homophobia in the world. Please dont forget it still very much exists.

With pride month coming up and the flint/graham plushies being released around the same time, the flag comes with the plushies to celebrate said pride month. This is because Flint and Graham are a canon gay couple, and even if it’s not “part of their design” or “what the game is about”, it’s still a part of their characters. And trying to erase canon LGBT representation just because it’s “not what the game is about” can very easily come across as homophobic. Your focus is in the wrong place if your biggest concern is “its not design accurate” ESPECIALLY when you can remove the cape.

And its not even an argument because everything else is still design accurate. Its still graham. Its still flint. The plushies coming with REMOVABLE pride capes doesnt suddenly erase that.

I’m really tired of homophobia being disguised as some polite disagreement. You should not see a pride flag and immediately have an issue. You can say your concern is that it’s not design or game accurate, but it’s a canon part of their characters. It’s not taking away from their designs or the game, it’s representing a part of the characters. A part of their characters that is important to acknowledge as pride month approaches.

Remember why pride exists. Remember what pride flags actually represent. As much as its fun to celebrate how far we’ve come, never forget where we came from and how hard we had to fight, and STILL have to fight to be treated equally.

[dollfacefantasy]

Wash His Hair

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you wash leon's hair and try to help him unwind (fluff) (also, a tad hurt/comfort)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: inspired by this post from @peachscentedcandle cause it made me laugh. this post does reference the movie good will hunting, if you haven't seen it you should watch it! (after you read this of course ;) it's really good. but anyways, thank you so much for the support on my last posts (kissing u thru the phone if you reblogged or commented). as before, comments and reblogs are appreciated :) also, the divider is from here!

Leon had been exhausted lately. He tried to play it off, but you could tell. He was so much quieter since coming home from his last mission. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew it had been rough. It stretched longer than expected, and while it was a success in the end, there were some complications along the way that you knew he blamed himself for.

He’d walk around the apartment slower than usual with distance in his eyes. You tried getting him to talk about it, but he’d deny anything was wrong at all. It wasn’t like he wanted space though. You asked him if he’d like to do something to maybe get his mind off it, but all he wanted to do was relax in bed with you. Normally, you’d never complain about that; however, when you knew he was hurting, you couldn’t just push it aside. His avoidant nature was a little frustrating after a while, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably be fed up. But you knew he didn’t do it to be malicious.

You lie in bed with him, softly running your fingers through his hair. His cheek is pressed to your shoulder, his eyes staring at your bedroom wall. You try to watch him without being too obvious with your staring. Your hand on his head slides down to rub his back. You just wanted to help. You try to think of literally anything that might help get him out of this slump. You sit up a little in bed and he looks up at you to see the reason for your movement.

“I’m going to take a shower. How about you join me?” you say, breaking the silence.

It’s like you can see the excuse rising in his throat. The way he tenses a little and his eyes flit away. You could hear the thoughts in his head telling him to pull away and close the walls. Before he can, you speak.

“Please,” you say softly, trying to avoid sounding demanding, “It’ll let you unwind, Baby. I just want to help you. It will be quick and painless, I promise.” You give him a small smile, hoping to lighten his mood if only a little bit.

He looks at you for a moment more, the excuse sinking back down and the anxiety in his mind receding, before he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees quietly.

It wasn’t a completely enthusiastic reaction, but it was a step in the right direction. Your smile widens, and you give him a quick peck on the forehead before you both roll out of bed. The air felt cool after being enveloped by blankets and Leon for the last few hours. You walk into the bathroom, turning the lights and the shower on. You rummage in the cabinet beneath your sink for anything that could make this even more relaxing for your boyfriend who undresses to the side of you as the water heats up.

Finally, you see a bag of shower steamers in the back. After taking one of the chalky pellets and placing it beneath the pouring water, you peel your clothes off. Leon’s gaze is fixed on your body, but there’s no lust in it right now. It’s pure adoration. The love you feel from his eyes causes heat to rise in your cheeks. You extend your hand to him, feeling his firm grasp as he takes it. The two of you step into the shower. You take a deep breath and inhale the fresh scent of oranges rising with the steam. He uses some of the hot water to push his hair back and out of his face. It may have been wishful thinking, but you would have sworn you could see his features already relaxing a bit.

Your eyes are soft as you look into his. You reach up to stroke his cheek a little, and you can feel him leaning into your touch as the warm water sprays over the two of you.

“C’mere,” you whisper and pull him into a tight hug. Your head rests where his heart is as your arms lock around his torso. You plant a kiss on the slippery skin of his chest and slowly start rubbing his back. “It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, you worry you may have upset him. But he doesn’t move. His arms stay wrapped around you with his chin propped on top of your head.

“Just have your Good Will Hunting moment, Babe. It’s not your fault,” you say again, trying to reassure him a bit without it being so much that he’d pull away.

He amusedly exhales and squeezes his arms around you tighter. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but that’s okay with you. The shower continues pouring down on you and the steam clouds the air further.

“I love you,” he says simply. His voice sounds less deflated. The subtle improvement in his tone makes your heart glow.

“I love you too,” you say, slowly nuzzling his chest. You kiss his collar bone a few times, trying to elevate his mood further. Even though the progress was small, you could feel the shower washing away the gloom that had been surrounding him since he came home. “Let me wash your hair now,” you offer.

You reach for his shampoo, but he stops you, gently grabbing your wrist. He pulls it across the shelf in the shower to where your things sit. “Use yours,” he says softly.

You beam at the request and kiss his cheek. His eyes were starting to lose the fog of exhaustion. He still looked tired but not beaten down. You grab your shampoo and squirt the liquid into your hand. He didn’t care if it wasn’t good for his hair type or anything like that, he just wanted your smell on him.

You rub the shampoo over your palms into a soapy lather. Leon tilts his head down to give you a better angle. You run your hands through his hair, lovingly scratching his scalp as you work the bubbles through his blonde locks. He shuts his eyes and nearly purrs while your fingers massage his head. You press tender kisses to both of his cheeks and nose before directing his head under the shower head to rinse.

The stress and guilt melt away under the hot water and your affection. You’re nearly petting him as you guide the soap out of his hair. He lets out a deep breath after inhaling the steam. He zones out as you start conditioning his hair. He only comes back as he feels you rubbing a wash cloth over the muscles of his chest and arms. His eyes slowly open and watch you spread the soap across his body.

You smile up at him as you move to his abdomen. “You still with me?” you say with a little teasing in your voice.

He hums in response and shuts his eyes again. You soothingly wash the rest of his body and then rinse him off. You quickly take care of yourself as he continues to relax under the flow of water. When you’re done, you give him a sweet kiss to bring him out of his stupor and shut the water off. The two of you step out of the shower hand in hand. You pass him a towel and you both dry off. He starts for the closet, but you take him by the arm and lead him to your bed.

“Don’t get dressed yet. Just sit back, take it easy, and let me help you really relax,” you say before kissing him yet again. He watches you as you get your lotion and begin rubbing it into your palms. You work the cream over his body, paying extra attention to the places you could feel his tension. The smell fills the air and puts him further at ease.

You glide around so you’re kneeling on the bed behind him, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and back. You kiss and nuzzle his neck. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure.

“There you go, Baby. Let it all go. There’s nothing to worry about right now,” you coo as you continue your soothing caresses. He’s like putty in your hands as you continue loving on him.

You finish your makeshift massage once you felt his skin couldn’t be any smoother. The two of you dress in fresh clothes before climbing into bed, getting comfy between the pillows and blankets. You tangle your limbs with Leon and kiss his head. “See, this feels even better than before, right?” you whisper.

He nods and shifts his position so that he’s nearly on top of you. He kisses your neck softly. He was so soft and smelled like you. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“No thanks needed, my love,” you say and return the kiss to the side of his head.

“But I want you to hear it, need to make sure you know,” he whispers.

You run your hand through his clean hair and cradle his head in the crook of your neck. “I know. You don’t have to worry about that either. I like doing this,” you reassure, “Just try to get some real rest now.”

He hums and gives you one more kiss before shutting his eyes. You feel him drifting off above you, at peace for the moment.

[purifiedclitoris69]

In it together

Hiii. I am alive, just very busy and overwhelmed with living ig. College fucking sucks and so does everything else rn, but figured i get a lil blurb out before i have to lock back into my classes. hope you enjoy!! don’t really know what ima do w my series or when ima update so i am sorry bout that LOL. anyway bye for now 👋👋

You were absolutely exhausted. A 2 week mission with only 3 hours of sleep total takes an intense toll, even if you are a super soldier. Letting the burning hot water run down your back , flashes of the recent mission ran through your mind. The experiment files were horrific, so many deaths, so many children.

You had only been at the compound for about a year and a half now, the team rescuing you from Hydra’s control like Bucky. You were free of the brainwash but not of the memories and this long ass mission had brought it all right back to the surface. It was getting better, your in therapy, bonding with the team, learning how to control your strength, your growing. But this mission, feels like it’s all about to come crumbling down. It made you feel sick. Thoughts of losing yourself, the team… of losing, Natasha, it burned your throat.

What you have with Natasha is confusing, complicated, but nice. No one else knows the true nature of it but you two. Falling into each others beds continuously for the past 8 months, staying tangled in each other, every single night, cuddling, and giggling like little teen girls. The team simply thought you guys were close friends, both you two being spies, it wasn’t too hard to hide your extracurriculars. But you both knew it was more, so much more. You held each other in the most gentlest ways…the most loving, opting not to leave one another when you guys inevitably came undone. In front of the team, you had a front, a quiet brooding one, but with her, it was peaceful, relieving, you felt free, like yourself. It was absolutely terrifying.

Not realizing it tears were beginning to mix with the water running down your face and crescent marks formed in your palms from clenching your fists too hard. You love her. You’re in love with her, but how could you tell her, would you. Your whole life you’ve been used as a weapon, serving for the military, then hydra. You were dangerous…a monster. It was late, almost 2 am, you couldn’t go to her now, she need rest, not a burden. no matter how much you yearned for her warmth. Turning off the burning water, you stepped out into the steam filled bathroom. Drying off, you wrapped the towel around your waist and another draped over your shoulders, you opened the door to your bedroom-on your bed sat Nat. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, her hair was slightly ruffled, she wore an old shirt of yours, and some of her loose sleep shorts. She looked absolutely stunning, you couldn’t help but give a soft tired smile.

“hi.” she spoke softly with a matching smile.

“hi,” you answered stopped in place just taking her in.

“you gonna get dressed,” she smirked tiredly, “tho i don’t mind.”

“oh really” you joked walking over to her and cupping her face as she looked up at you, “i missed you,” you spoke softly the tiredness bringing out a transparency.

She leaned into your hand closing her eyes, “i missed you,” she answered. Your heart swelled and the flashes came back, you could hurt her, what if you lose it. Suddenly taking a step back her cheek still warm from your touch, her eyes flew open. You turned your back, getting dressed by your closet, “is everything okay,” she asked as you pulled your tank top over your head and braced yourself against your dresser.

You opened your mouth unsure what you wanted her to know, “yeah,” was all you could muster.

“I really did miss you,” she walked up behind you wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning her check against your back, just enjoying your smell, “i don’t sleep well without you anymore.”

“me either,” you turned around wrapping your own arms around her middle and looking to the side as hers went to your neck, “it was a rough mission,” you mumbled

“oh, baby,” she spoke, moving her hands to your face this time, “look at me please,” your eyes were burning with unshed tears as they met her soft deep green ones, “oh, my love, it’s okay,” she brought your head down to her shoulder as you released a shaky breath and let your arms fall from around her waist, “is there something else,” she asked dropping her own hands. You walked past her to sit on the bed not really sure where to start as you looked at your hands in your lap, “we don’t have to talk about it, it’s okay,” she spoke sitting beside you and gently take your hands in her own.

You finally looked back at her face, your eyes still glossy. You stared deep into each others eyes, “you’re so beautiful, Natasha,” you said memorizing every detail of her. She laughed quietly as a soft blush rose to her face.

“Shut up,” she said putting her forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes at the action as yours remained open, “I mean it, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

Her blush grew as she pulled back and looked away slightly, “god i love you,” she mumbled out casually bringing shock to both your faces. She immediately pulled her hands away and stood from the bed, her mouth opening and closing unsure what to say as you looked at her, overwhelmed with emotions, “y/n i’m sorry i-“

“You do?” you asked getting up from the bed with her, “you love me?”

“I..” She spoke uncertain, taking a deep breath in, “y/n i’m in love with you.” You laughed slightly in disbelief. You moved towards her with purpose grabbing her waist and pulling her into a bruising kiss, pouring every amount of love into it as possible, like it was the last time, like you were consumed by everything Natasha. You both grinned wide into the kiss, forcing the two of you to break apart.

Taking a deep breath, “Tasha, I..,” the thoughts all came rushing back. Your going to hurt her, you don’t deserve this love, your going to lose it all.

She moved her hands down from your neck to intertwine with your own, “I know,” she whispered.

“I really do,” you said, your foreheads still pressed together, “I..,” your mouth fell open and closed absolutely terrified to say something wrong, “Im just scared,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, but never dropping your hold.

“Don’t be,” she answered, moving her hands back up to cup your face, “we’re in this together.”

[wonijinjin]

my human charger

author’s note: this is part of the 200 followers event

synopsis: when cheol gets tired he needs his charger to connect with him.

word count: 0.6k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: none

“mingyu i am open! toss it to me!” cheol screamed as mingyu had the basketball in his hands, standing in the corner of the court, trying to dodge his opponent from the other team. “scoups, catch!” the tall man shouted as he threw the red ball in the direction of his teammate, him catching it in his large hand with ease. some of the boys were playing basketball on the court of the park since the weather was nice and they wanted to let off some of the steam that had been building up in many of them with the upcoming new music releases. they loved playing different sports, and you had seen your boyfriend cheol do many of them with the others, but it was your first time actually witnessing the brilliance of his skills in a game of basketball.

now, you were not the best at ball games, especially since you had no sense of direction at all, resulting in you getting hit in the face by the round object many times while the others tried to teach you. this is why you chose to be a spectator most of the time, getting fed up with trying endless times, accepting that you were definitely not made to be an athlete unlike some of the group’s members. “let’s take a break, alright?” hoshi said after scoring yet another point in the game, all of the men looking extra exhausted by running around for such a long time. you watched as cheol jogged down to the side, and went up to him. “you did so well dear!” you claimed while giving him a chaste kiss as a reward for his hard work. “i honestly don’t understand how you manage to hold that big thing in only one hand, you caught it so smoothly!” you wondered, amazed. he stayed silent for a moment, grabbing your hand and lacing it with his, comparing their sizes. “now this is why i can catch it, love.” he giggled “my hand is way bigger than yours.” he continued explaining like it wasn’t obvious; his hands were always huge, you loved how yours fit into his when walking around the city, or how when he cupped your cheeks you could feel more at ease, his long thumb stroking the apple of them lightly before kissing you softly. you laughed at him, grinning. “i love your hands.” he kissed yours, still laced with his fingers. “i know darling.” he chuckled, breaking the bond and starting to fan himself, sweaty from the game. “you are still sweating like crazy even though you are on break. this game is intense, huh?” you joked, seeing how he almost got embarrassed for a minute, but his witty mind was faster. “yes, i am exhausted. i need to recharge my energy.” he stated while spreading his arms to trap you in a hug; it was common for him to cling to you when feeling tired, and this day was not an exception. “seungcheol if you hug me i swear to god i will go home! i’m feeling hot aswell already, don’t need your body heat and sweat!” you whined, trying to run away. “i will cry.” he said causally, and you knew he would actually do it out of spite, however you couldn’t help but giggle. “is that meant to be a threat?” you smirked. “cheol you are not scary, you literally pout like a sulky puppy.” you wheezed, giving in to his embrace anyways, hugging him tightly and staying like that for a while, craving the touch just as much as he did.

[technicallyvivi]

NSFW WARNING!

yunho letting off stress after a long, hard day at work.

after a long day of work yunho finally gets home, he opens the door and throws his bag somewhere in the living room, with a bang. it’s too dark to see and he could care less as he is way to exhausted to pay any mind to what he’s doing. he walks into your shared room and takes his shirt off noticing you’re asleep. his pants are next to be thrown somewhere across the room. y/n’s snores are soft and yunho giggles to himself shutting up in an attempt to not wake you up, as he climbs into the bed that only makes said attempt fail by squeaking. you yawn and turn over seeing his face close to yours, you kiss his cheek. “you’re home.” you yawn “i had been waiting.” yunho chuckles softly getting into a comfortable position “poor baby, i didnt mean to make you wait long. i got held up.” you smile “that’s okay. you’re here now.” you kiss his neck softly and yunho feels himself start to get hard. “fuck y/n i need to let off some steam. work was hard” you nod and as if he was gonna do it anyways he starts taking your panties off under the covers. “so wet.” yunho says playing between your folds. you throw the covers off the bed to get a good look at his hands. he spends a while teasing you, just to hear your soft moans and whiny “please.”’s. then he speaks up “sorry baby, let me give you what you want. tell me, how many fingers?” your voice is shaky but you manage to let out a couple words and form a sentence “mm one. more hurts.” yunho nods and slowly pushes one digit in putting his head near your ear and whispering “you’re so tight hm?” you shiver as he starts moving slowly, never breaking eye contact with you and when you try to close your eyes, he doesnt let it happen. “no i want you to see me.” the dominance in his voice makes you shift on the bed leading his finger to hit your sweet spot “f-fuck yunho.” you moan “i need to feel more let me add another baby” he expects a yes but you shake your head “hurts” yunho smiles and kisses under your ear softly, nibbling and sucking “ill make sure it feels good” you are so far gone and in your sub space you have to agree. you nod. yunho take a second finger and pushes the tip into your tight hole, you moan gripping onto his arm. “ah-fuck i cant, god!” he shushes you and whispers “come on baby i know you can take it all, you’re strong. if you can take my big dick you can take a couple fingers.” you close your eyes and he pushes it in slowly bit by bit, cooing sweet nothings into your ear. once its fully inside you, you feel so full. “see? what a good girl, you’re so good for me arent you? arent you?” he raises his voice when you moan in response “words baby.” you nod quickly “y- yes fuck!” he speeds his fingers up and hits your spot straight on repeatedly, your back arches and you scratch his back leaving streaks of red. his grunts as he continues dont make it any better for you as you feel your orgasm approaching, you close your thighs around his hand which he pushes back open with force, groaning. “take it all princess.” you let out a shriek and squirt all over his fingers. “sh-shit.” you shiver. yunho laughs, pulling his fingers out carefully and laying next to you. he turns your chin to look at him “open you eyes.” you listen and watch as he takes his fingers coated in your arousal to his mouth and licks them off, then bringing them to your mouth so you can lick them fully clean. “look how good you taste.” he smiles kissing your forehead. “did i do good enough.” you ask knowing he had a bad day at work. “amazing. come here, lets sleep.” he opens his arms up and cuddles you, caressing your hair and humming a sweet lullaby until you fall asleep.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (3/?)

Part summary: Leigh develops an unhealthy habit as she hits closer to rock bottom

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.370 | Warnings/Tags: Some hetero stuff | A/N: Things will pick up after this part. I think there's going to be a total of 6 parts, but let me confirm that in the next update :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Next

-

Leigh is ten minutes late. 

It makes sense. Her willingness to attend this meeting was surprising, because if you were in her shoes, you doubt you'd have agreed to it. Listening to the entire history of a relationship can be exhausting, and it's hard to imagine what it feels like to hear about one that arguably should never have existed.

But just as you're about to think she's bailed or intentionally left you hanging, you spot her sprinting toward the cafe from across the street. She's a mess—hair soaked and sticking everywhere, face bare, missing its usual touch of makeup. But even like this, Leigh doesn't look much different from her usual self. You can't help feeling a bit envious of that.

She rushes into the cafe, attracting a few curious looks, but she barely registers them, her wide green eyes quickly finding you.

“Sorry I'm late,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, “I got caught in the rain and then missed my bus.” The lie slips out effortlessly. True, it had rained, but the real reason was far more personal—something you didn't need to know.

You shrug off her apology with a smile, signaling the waiter for a menu for Leigh. “No worries, I'm just glad you made it,” you say.

Leigh gives you a quick once-over, then forces a smile and thanks you. Once her coffee order's in, she gets right down to it. “So, Matt,” she starts, her voice dropping to a whisper, “how did you two meet?”

You lean back, carefully thinking about what to say next. You didn't practice your answers ahead of time because you weren't planning to lie about anything. But you're wary of how you word things, not wanting to upset her. Being caught up with a married man is embarrassing enough as it is, and having to relay the details to his widowed wife only adds to it.

“Actually, our first meeting was totally by chance,” you say, bringing your steaming cup of tea to your lips. “I quite literally bumped into Matt one day. It was so brief, I barely gave it a second thought.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Then, about a week later, Matt showed up at my clinic with the same friend from before. It turned out, they were there for his friend's dog, who needed a check-up. Matt was just tagging along, helping out.”

Leigh’s face remains passive, making it hard to read. 

“The friend was the one who interacted with me the most that day. He even asked for my number, saying they were grateful for the help with the dog. I assumed he was interested,” you say, the memory coming back to you clearer now as you speak. “But, to my surprise, it was Matt who texted me later, not his friend.”

You barely manage to suppress the slight twitch of your lips, recalling how everything once seemed magical to you. Leigh on the other hand, takes a slow sip of her coffee, buying a moment to process.

“Who was that friend of Matt's? Do you remember his name?” she asks.

You pause, racking your brain for the detail, feeling its importance to Leigh. “Yeah, I think his name was Nick or something,” you say, scratching your head. Whether the name ‘Nick’ rings any bells for her or not, she doesn't let on. 

“Strange,” you mumble under your breath, but then shrug it off. “It doesn't really matter, he's not the one I—” You stop yourself just in time, realizing you're about to say something potentially hurtful about a situation that still feels raw, especially to Leigh.

Instead, you quickly pivot. “Anyway, that's how it all started. On the day of the dog’s follow-up, it was just Matt who came by. We struck up a friendship from there, and one thing led to another until he, uhm, asked me out for dinner.”

At this, you notice a subtle change in Leigh's demeanor. Her entire frame becomes more timid, the first real sign of emotion she's shown since this conversation began. 

You’re about to go on with your story when Leigh suddenly speaks up.

“So, you just said yes, even though he was your client? Don't veterinarians have professional boundaries?”

Ever since meeting Leigh, you've found it challenging to predict what might trigger her reactions—it's like navigating a minefield. Occasionally, you’d find yourself wondering what it would be like to know her without the complications currently defining your interactions. You think about the roles you both involuntarily play in each other's lives, roles neither of you auditioned for but somehow ended up performing.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and your gaze drops to your lap. “Well, he was persistent,” you say, feeling the need to defend your decision. Nevertheless, it sounds weak to your own ears. “But I made it clear nothing could happen until the dog's treatment was complete. And I insisted he'd have to find a different vet for any future appointments. It was... complicated.”

“I bet,” Leigh scoffs, crossing her arms. After a beat, she asks, almost too casually, “So, how quickly did you two... you know, have your first kiss?”

The question hangs awkwardly between you. You know you can’t answer it in any way you could avoid her judgment, so you just decide to spit it out. 

“First date.” Under Leigh’s scrutinizing gaze, it feels like admitting to a minor crime.

Leigh stares at you with unblinking eyes. “And how long after meeting him did this first date happen?”

You draw in a slow breath. “Three weeks,” you mutter. “It was last fall.” You add that bit, proactively laying out the timeline as if it could somehow soften the blow or make the situation less complicated. Leigh, however, looks like you've just knocked the wind out of her. She looks away, her expression shifting into something like shock or deep pain. Alarm bells ring in your head at the picture before you.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” you say in a rush. “I mean, this whole situation is messed up, but if I—”

Leigh’s eyes are glass as they return to you. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost have to lean in to hear. “Last fall... That's when I told Matt we should start trying for a baby.”

The words drain the color from your face. And suddenly, all the pieces of your story with Matt feels even more tainted.

You're not sure what your face gives away when you hear this news, but Leigh's expression quickly shifts from tearful to furious. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” she hisses. “I don’t need your pity.”

Leigh's tears start to spill over, and it's only 7:30 in the morning. It feels way too early for tears, especially here, in the middle of a coffee shop where the day is just beginning for most. You try to shrink into your seat, wishing you could make both of you invisible as the few other patrons start throwing curious, if not outright concerned, looks your way.

You never realized a simple conversation could cause someone so much pain. You thought providing Leigh with answers would help, but it looks like you're just making things even harder for her. Maybe keeping your distance from her is the kindest thing you can do.

“You know the worst part?” Leigh brushes away the tears that keep streaking down her face.

Clearly, she isn't looking for an answer, so you stay silent.

She makes sure she catches your eye before saying, “He agreed, and we started trying.”

-

Leigh catches her breath after wrapping up her class at the Beautiful Beast. 

She took a day off yesterday, immediately after talking with you, spending the whole day in bed just trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Surprisingly, wasting away for a whole day seemed to help, and her concerns gradually drifted back to her fight with Jules. It’s been days, and Leigh feels the urgency of reconciliation pressing on her. By this point, they should be on speaking terms again. By now, Jules should have let go of her anger, right? Leigh knows she can't afford to have her sister hating her. At least not right now. She needs her family, or what’s left of it—on her side. 

“Hey, Jules, got a sec? About the schedule…” Leigh tries, hoping work might be a safe enough topic to get her sister to acknowledge her existence once again.

Jules barely glances her way. Her hands keep moving, adjusting a strap here, aligning yoga mats there, as if the very act could shield her from having to engage. “Sorted. Check your email,” she replies, her voice cold and detached.

Leigh nods, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Great, great... um, did you consider adding that beginners' workshop we talked about?”

Jules stops for a beat, and Leigh thinks, maybe she's going to drop it. But no, Jules resumes fussing over items that hardly require any attention. Then, without even looking up, she says, “Yeah, it's on the list. Anything else?”

Leigh tries to keep her cool, wishing Jules would just cut to the chase and tell her what needs to be done for all to be forgiven. 

Trying a different tactic, Leigh goes, “Hey, found a Starbucks card in my bag. How 'bout I grab us some coffee? My treat.”

Leigh’s trying. She really is. Why can’t they see that?

Jules just gives her that look, the kind that doesn't need words, and heads back to her desk. And there's Leigh, offer of a beverage truce just floating in the air, going nowhere.

Getting ignored really gets under Leigh's skin. Back in the day, Matt's habit of brushing her off would drive her to the edge. She'd respond with over-the-top demands or twist things around just to make sure he’d always pay attention to her. She didn't start off wanting to be that person, but looking back, she sees the lengths she'd go to just to keep his attention from straying. 

Unable to control herself, she heads straight for Jules, grabs her arm despite her trying to wiggle free, and yanks her into the backroom.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Jules explodes, not caring if anyone’s heard her outside.

They're both standing there, kind of shocked by how heated things got so fast. Jules’ shout might've turned a few heads outside, but right now, that's the least of Leigh's worries.

“How many times do I need to apologize, for you to get over this?”

Jules’ eyes are wide in disbelief, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Leigh! This is exactly why I’m not talking to you,” Jules hisses, but keeps her voice down this time.

“What—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Leigh's initial scoff dies in her throat as she watches Jules' expression twist with hurt. “Yeah, okay, I said sorry about the crap I pulled the other day. I know I was out of line, talking about your past like that—”

Jules doesn't let her finish. “You weren't just being ‘out of line’, Leigh. You threw the worst time of my life in my face! Do you have any idea how hurtful that is? Coming from my own sister? From my own family? What, just to win an argument? To cover up for acting like a jerk at the club?”

Leigh goes quiet, but her face hardens, trying not to show how much Jules' words hit her right in the gut. What she said, laid out like that, it sounds…well, unforgivable.

“I'm trying, okay?” Leigh blurts out without thinking.

“Shouldn't be that hard to just be a decent human being, should it?” Jules shoots back, her dismissal sharp as she exits the cramped space, leaving Leigh reeling.

Under her breath, almost like she's talking to the walls, Leigh mumbles, “I'm really sorry…” It's quiet, almost lost in the room, but she means it the most at this very moment, even if no one's around to catch it.

-

Leigh clocks out from work, her day's fatigue hanging off her shoulders like a weighty cloak. Instead of heading straight home, she veers off her usual path, her feet bringing her to places that made breathing difficult the first few weeks after Matt's death. She's walking the same old route she always did when he was still around, back to when her home address was different and she'd pick up takeout from his favorite places along the way.

There’s the park first, the one where she and Matt spent countless afternoons sprawled on the grass, lying side by side as they watched the sky blush into shades of orange at sunset. She allows herself only a fleeting glance at the familiar paths and the bench they claimed theirs, feeling the same regret, the same hollowness as she remembers the good times they had there. 

In the back of her mind, she can't shake off the worry that maybe you've been here too, making your own memories with him. She doesn’t feel the surge of anger at this thought however. Instead, a part of her is almost willing to share these sacred memories if it means holding onto him in any form. She wants to believe that her jealousy has faded into a quieter acceptance that others might also carry pieces of him, pieces she's learning to live with.

Pulling herself away from the park, Leigh's walk inevitably leads her past Matt's favorite Italian restaurant—a quaint, cozy place where they celebrated most of their birthdays and, on occasion, anniversaries, especially when neither felt like cooking (which became an increasingly common choice in the months leading up to his accident).

She remembers how Matt's face would light up at the prospect of their rich, creamy carbonara and the tiramisu he claimed was unrivaled in the city. She recalls the numerous times she attempted to recreate the restaurant's tiramisu at home, aiming to surprise Matt at least once a month. Despite her efforts, if she truly wanted to indulge him, she knew there was no substitute for the real thing. So, on special days, or whenever she felt an extra burst of affection, she'd stop by the restaurant on her way home, picking up takeout. 

A waitress from the restaurant notices Leigh's lingering gaze and asks if she'd like a table. With a shy smile, Leigh declines, then pauses before finally deciding to order a tiramisu to go.

When she returns to her mom's house and eats the tiramisu alone, it tastes different. 

Leigh can't decide if the difference in the tiramisu's taste is good or bad, but that doesn't stop her. She finishes the entire slice in minutes. But instead of feeling full, it makes her feel emptier. Perhaps, it’s not the flavor that's changed; it's the experience of eating it without Matt's enthusiastic commentary, without him lighting up at the first bite or playfully claiming the last one, despite his generous offer to let her have it.

Suddenly, tears just start pouring out of Leigh as she sits there with an empty plate. She didn't see it coming, no chance to stop it or shove it down. Then, she finds herself laughing—a deep, throaty laugh—because she's grieved for him in countless ways, but this, crying over a dessert, has to be the most absurd. It's exactly the kind of moment they would have laughed at together.

Deciding that that would be her dinner, Leigh cleans up the small mess she's made and considers the evening ahead. But just as she’s about to sink into the couch for a quiet night, her phone buzzes, making her jump.

Seeing your name flash on her screen, she sighs, sensing a familiar bitterness creeping back in, disrupting the soothing moments she had just spent reminiscing about Matt. She lets it ring a few times more before picking up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Leigh says, managing to keep her voice steady over the phone.

“Hey,” you start, unsure how to break the ice after everything. Especially with what you’re about to say next.

“Listen, something happened today at the clinic. Someone came in looking for their lost French Bulldog, and they had a picture,” you pause to breathe. “Leigh, it looks a lot like Visitor.”

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Leigh's heart skip a beat.

“Hello?” you ask, checking to make sure she's still there after she doesn't respond for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” Leigh’s voice cracks slightly.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” you say softly, feeling a surge of empathy. “I'm sending you the picture now. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You hit send and then wait for Leigh’s confirmation.

“It's him. It's definitely Visitor,” she says a moment later.

You're relieved but also concerned about what comes next. “So, what are you going to do?”

Leigh hesitates, and when she speaks again, she doesn’t give a direct answer. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says, and you pick up something in her tone. Something somber. 

“Everything alright?” 

But the line's already dead, leaving you staring at your phone, wondering what she is up to.

-

Leigh stands outside the community center, her hand lingering on the door longer than usual.  It's been weeks since she last came to a session. First, there was the shock of uncovering Matt's darkest secret, and now, there's the issue of the man inside, already looking her way, waiting to see her next move.

Danny appearing at her doorstep earlier in the week caught her completely off guard—and not in a good way. The moment she realized it was him, Leigh didn't hesitate to close the door in his face. After she shut him out, it escalated to the point where she threatened to call the police because he wouldn't stop pounding on the door and shouting for Leigh to let him in, insisting he just wanted to talk. His last attempt to get through to her fell flat when he flooded her inbox with texts and missed calls, pushing Leigh to the point where she blocked his number for good.

Despite the problem of Danny being here tonight, Leigh isn't willing to walk away from this just because of him. She's already given up so much lately, most recently Visitor—or Chico, as she found out his real name was—and his absence carved a fresh ache in her heart that she hadn't seen coming.

So, she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, ignoring the smirk on Danny’s face as she proceeds to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

-

Somehow, after the meeting, Leigh ends up saying yes to a quick chat with Danny. He reels her in with the news that he submitted Matt’s remaining works—which he got custody of—to his publisher, and they were keen to publish them posthumously. 

Leigh can't help but throw in a bit of shade. “That's nice of you, doing something good for your brother, even if it's a bit late.”

Danny's face drops a little. Her words were sharp enough to hurt him, but he doesn't bite back or get in her face about it, which totally throws Leigh for a loop. After all the time she'd spent ignoring him, she had expected him to be at his worst around her.

And then he surprises her even more when he says, “Let me give you a ride home? It's the least I can do…”

Leigh arches an eyebrow. She didn’t bring the car tonight because Jules had a thing with Tommy, and she didn’t want to give her sister another reason to resent her. A ride from Danny beats the alternatives of walking or shelling out for a pricey cab, especially now that her phone's battery has given out, nixing the option of booking an Uber.

But this is Danny. Matt’s brother, and the guy she hooked up with because she thought she’d get back some semblance of her dead husband. After Jules pointed out how messed up it was that they'd slept together, Leigh's been all over the place. The rules around what they were doing either turned her off or, weirdly enough, made the whole thing more enticing, taboo and all. That's a big part of why she's been steering clear of him. Hanging out with Danny feels like reaching for a cigarette long after she's sworn off smoking.

Even with all that swirling in her head, Leigh ends up saying, “Sure, why not?”

Before she knows it, she's also agreeing to a drink at his place.

-

The second they step into his apartment, something inside of Leigh snaps. Acting on impulse, she grabs Danny by the collar and kisses him fiercely. She clenches his shirt in her hands, practically tearing it in her grip. Danny's initial surprise melts away in seconds, and then he’s kissing her just as hard, his tongue prying open her lips, taking control of the kiss right away. His hands find her waits, pulling her closer, practically already half-lifting her against the wall.

Leigh, caught up in the moment, begins to move her hips in a rocking motion against him. The action is effective enough to distract him from where he’s kissing every inch of Leigh’s neck, and he retaliates by suddenly pressing her more firmly against the wall, pinning her with his hips, their chests are tightly pressed together.

But as Leigh's fingers begin to fumble with the button of Danny's pants, he catches her hands gently and, panting, says, “Wait, Leigh, hold on for just a sec.” 

Leigh’s eyes fly open at his voice, irritation and impatience coloring them. “What?” she gasps out. 

He ignores the hard edges of her tone. He wants more—something real—and he's hoping she does too.

“I can’t do this again unless I know it’s going somewhere,” Danny says. He gently lets go of Leigh and takes a step back, trying to collect himself. It's a tough task, though, with Leigh looking the way she does—hair all tousled, lips slightly swollen and marked from when he got a bit carried away, her cheeks tinged with a warm flush. He could’ve made her come in the next two minutes, he’s sure of it.

At Danny's confession, Leigh can't help it; she bursts into laughter. The idea of him catching feelings now, of all times, seems absurd to her. As she laughs, Danny's jaw tightens, but he waits patiently for her to finish.

When Leigh finally notices the seriousness etched across Danny's face, her amusement evaporates almost instantly. The realization that he's not joking strikes her, and it doesn't sit well. Not one bit.

“What, you think because your brother's gone, you get to... what? Step in? Take his place?” she spits out, incredulous. “This is never going to be anything more than a quick fuck, Danny.”

In his desperation, he calls her bluff. “You’re lying.”

Leigh's reaction morphs into a cruel sneer. “If you're going to insist on something more, then we're just wasting our time,” she mutters, turning to leave.

Danny's not ready to let her walk away, not yet. He grabs her arm, and for a second, they're just staring each other down, a silent battle raging between them. Leigh’s resolve is impenetrable.

It’s Danny who cracks first, exhaling a defeated, “Fine.”

But Leigh's not having any half-measures. She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “Nope. Say it properly,” she demands.

With a sigh that feels like he's giving away a part of himself, Danny looks at her, worn and resigned. “This doesn't have to mean anything,” he says even if it’s the last thing he wants.

Leigh locks eyes with him, a storm brewing in her look. Just when Danny thinks it's better to just drop it, she throws him a question out of nowhere. 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Danny asks, genuinely puzzled.

“About Matt and me... trying for a baby when he... you know.”

“He... he never mentioned anything like that,” he says, feeling the pain she’s radiating. Leigh looks like she’s about to fall apart and all he wants is to be the one to gather her pieces and put them all back together.

No more words follow from Leigh. It's as if the question drained what was left of the conversation. Without warning, she surges forward, her lips meeting Danny’s in a bruising kiss, then she grabs Danny's hands, placing them firmly back on her waist. He gets the message loud and clear, and together they quickly shed their clothes, letting them fall in a heap around their feet. She comes about twelve minutes and thirty seconds later.

-

It's been eight days—not that you're keeping track or anything. But after giving Leigh the heads-up that someone’s been looking for a dog that looks exactly like Visitor, you were kind of expecting she’d at least update you if it really was him or not.

So, when a client strolls in later with Visitor, who's actually called Chico according to the file your secretary slips you, you're a little disappointed it's not Leigh showing up instead. It must have been incredibly tough for her to return Chico to his real family. She invested her heart, time, and not to mention her wallet, into that dog, caring for him as if he were her own.

Thinking she’d be relieved to know he’s in good hands, you send her a text to update her about Chico's visit to the clinic today. You mention how healthy and content he seems, yet you hazard a guess that he's probably missing Leigh too. 

She sees your message right away, and then leaves you on read.

-

Her thing with Danny turns into a late-night ritual, particularly after Drew fails to respond to her following their conversation, not even offering her a guest column in the weeks that followed their talk. Drew continues to invite her for coffee and dinner dates along with his fiancée, but he avoids the topic about the column, so Leigh stops asking.

The hookups are always a post-midnight impulse. She’d find herself sneaking out of her mother's house to meet him, driven by a mix of need and escape, or occasionally, by insomnia. After their moments together, she never lingers in Danny's bed for too long once she's found her satisfaction, eager to shower away his scent from her skin. 

Back at home, she ensures there's no trace of their deed by the time she slips into bed, allowing herself to sleep deep into the middle of the day. This pattern of nocturnal activity and daytime slumber has led her mother to adjust Leigh's responsibilities, moving her to take charge of the afternoon classes instead. This behavior earns her suspicious glances from Jules, but Leigh chooses to ignore them—if Jules isn't interested in reconciling, then she has no right to concern herself with Leigh's personal affairs.

Leigh doesn’t know how she got here, back at the beginning, in an ever messier situation. She can't stop fucking Danny, her emotions for Matt are a rollercoaster—she finds herself forgiving him and cursing him interchangeably a couple of times a day. 

She's astounded this is her life now, seemingly unable to talk herself out of decisions that pull her deeper into chaos.

-

A month later, Leigh becomes a distant memory. Following a series of tumultuous encounters, your life gradually returns to its normal rhythm—quiet, ordinary days filled with clinic work, attending to various cases, meeting new clients, and addressing the myriad issues of small animals. All of these tasks prove easier to deal with than anything involving Leigh Shaw.

The sole noteworthy event in your generally uneventful life lately was your latest visit to a physician for an annual physical exam. The blood tests revealed some numbers outside the normal range, notably elevated cholesterol levels. Consequently, your doctor advised you to integrate exercise into your daily regimen and to reduce your consumption of takeout meals, specifically pizza and Chinese fast food.

It’s a big sacrifice, considering your day usually flies by without much thought for food, except for dinner. It’s the one time in your day you actually look forward to. So, to hold onto that bit of happiness, you've been looking at fitness classes that are actually enjoyable and help burn those extra calories to keep you in shape.

Yoga stands out as the top choice for you, mainly because it all unfolds on a mat. You assume it'll demand the least amount of effort compared to the other options (specifically spinning), which all seem to promise nothing but pain and suffering.

Deciding to give yoga a shot, you choose Beautiful Beast, swayed by its stellar reviews. You secure a slot for a 6pm class, feeling pretty good about this decision.

That is, until Leigh Shaw walks into the said class, clad in a sports bra and tight-fitting leggings that highlight her toned legs. She’s busy on her phone, and without looking up, she walks to the front of the room. 

What are the chances you'd both be in the same class at the same fitness studio? The plot thickens when she pockets her phone and turns to face the class, gesturing for everyone to get their mats ready as the session's about to start.

You swallow hard. Leigh isn't here as a joiner—she's running it.

It takes about a quarter of the session for Leigh to notice you’re in her class. It's only while she's making her rounds, observing each student's camel pose, that her gaze finally lands on you. Struggling through your lack of core strength, you can't quite catch her initial reaction, but then she calls out your name. The surprise makes you gasp as she places her hand on the curve of your spine, just above the small of your back, and gently pushes you upward, deepening your arch. 

The stretch draws a grimace from you, but then she says, “Good, that's it,” and suddenly, you're determined not to let her down. You focus on the pose, on Leigh's instructions, and on not falling apart under her watchful eye. Leigh keeps everyone in the position a few moments longer than expected before instructing the class to transition into the child's pose for recovery. At her cue, your arms collapse, and you find yourself breathing heavily, grateful for the brief respite.

Something tells you it's not the high cholesterol that's going to be the end of you, but rather this yoga class and Leigh's merciless teaching style. 

-

You're all packed up and ready to leave, still reeling from what could easily be the toughest hour of your life, when someone calls out to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It's Leigh. Her tone is softer, more fatigued than you remember. She’s still in her gym clothes, looking like the workout barely touched her except for a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. And somehow, she smells more like a rose garden than the gym floor.

“I didn’t know you work here—” you blurt out, almost apologizing. But before you can add anything else, Leigh just shakes her head, something like amusement in her smile, stopping you mid-sentence. Her smile, warm and a little teasing, eases some of the tension you didn't realize you were holding. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” she teases. “Cause yeah, I was going to ask if you were following me.”

You’re quick to deny it. “I wasn’t.”

Leigh lets out a chuckle like she's getting a kick out of seeing you on edge. You shuffle your feet, still unsure if she’s trying to scare you off or welcome you to her tutelage.  

“Look, if it's weird for you, me being here... I can find another class,” you offer, the words tumbling out before you can think them through.

Her reaction is swift and a bit surprising, “Why would I want that? So you can duck out and be a rubbish yogi elsewhere and ruin my reputation?”

You’re taken aback by her response. Clearly, Leigh's not pushing you away; it's almost as if she's egging you on, daring you to stick it out. And if there's any hope of moving past this... whatever it is, leaving now because it might get awkward doesn't seem like the right move to make a fresh start.

“All right, I'll stay,” you find yourself saying, more to your surprise than hers. 

Leigh's got this look of triumph, chin lifted just so, when you agree to stick around. “See you at 5:30. Greenway Park,” she throws out casually.

You're there blinking, trying to piece together what she means. But before you can even get a word out, she's one step ahead. 

“We have to work on your endurance,” she clarifies. “Make sure you’re wearing real running shoes. No sneakers.”

[caxde]

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, one night he comes earlier than he should and gets to enjoy himself

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n part 2 is up!

Steve always took his showers in the morning. 

You preferred them at night. 

Sharing a small flat with him was a quiet experience. He’d spent most of his time out of it anyway, preferring to study at the University library, or at the coffee shop you had down the corner. Or working half shifts in the small record store, where you also worked. 

Roommate and coworker Steve were two very different people. 

Roommate Steve was prone to laugh at your stupid jokes and watch stupid movies with you on the couch. 

Coworker Steve tried not to talk to you that much, scared that if your boss saw you two chatting it up, he’d get accused of flirting with you. Scared that it was painfully obvious to everyone else but you. 

But it was impossible for him to not stare at you when you’d come home exhausted after a stressful shift and mutter under your breath how much you wanted a hot shower. Or how he’d wait painfully to hear the record you had been playing while you studied in your room stop, knowing that you were about to knock on his door and tell him that if he had to go to the bathroom he better do it now before you took your very deserved long shower. 

He often teased you about how much you’d like to have a bath instead. 

You’d laugh it off, even though he was absolutely right. 

The truth is, he loves to hear you while the water hits your body. 

The bathroom stood between his room and yours. 

His bed against the wall, he usually laid down on it with a second hand book about whatever topic he needed to research for his next paper on American Revolution History or European History and its impact in Modern World. It didn’t matter to him, because in the next ten to twenty minutes he could hear you singing to yourself, your voice drowned by the noise of flowing water hitting your wet body. Though he did love it when you’d talk to yourself. 

Today was different. 

He’d come home later than he usually does, he had spent way more time than he intended stuck in the library trying to write his last paper on the Spanish Republic and he had little to no information on it, and he had exhausted himself enough to go straight to his bed, letting his body hit the mattress without even bothering to turn on the lights. 

That’s when he heard the shower turning on. 

At least he can hear you sing for him for a bit he thinks. 

But he was wrong for once. 

You thought you were alone, you thought you could be as loud as you wanted to, or as much as you needed to. The truth is, you had been crushing on Steve for a while now, and sometimes, only sometimes, you fantasized about him. Maybe more than you’ve been proud of. 

So now, as you were standing there, with the hot steam hugging all the parts of your body, and the water dripping drow your curves, you started thinking about how it would feel if what was keeping you warm wasn’t the hot air, but him, standing behind you, kissing every inch of your bare skin. 

You couldn’t help yourself, not now. So your fingers traveled down your folds, your fingers playing lazily with your dripping wet pussy, circling your clit as you thought of him, soft small moans came out of your mouth. And the hunger only grew, as images of him walking around the flat without his shirt and hair dripping wet invaded your mind. The way his hair sticks onto his forehead every morning, and he always smiles at you before telling you good morning in that husky early morning voice. 

It was driving you crazy, so you started touching yourself with more speed, a clearer pattern, tempting your entrance as one of your fingers graced it. 

Unknown to you, Steve was laying on the other side of the wall, his eyes opened as he heard you moaning, with each one growing louder and clearer, his mind became clouded, as he felt the way his jeans started to feel to tight on him, he needed to free himself, so he did the only thing he felt like he could. He sighed as his cock hitted his stomach once his pants and underwear laid on the floor. And he began stroking himself, softly, slowly, letting himself be guided by your voice as you whined. 

The only thing that made him touch himself faster is when he heard the way your voice moaned his name. 

You were so close to cumming, one of your hands had three of your fingers deep inside you, reaching that spot that made you see stars, as the other held the shower head closely to your clit, the vibrations of it making it feel when you closed your eyes that he was the one eating you out. And even after you had comed and you had screamed his name as loud as you could you left it there for a moment, recomposing yourself. Wishing he was there so you could kiss him, wishing he’d feel what you feel. 

He did, but you didn’t know, though now he did. 

His hands wrapped around his throbbing cock fast, and tightly, he resorted to biting his lower lip so he wouldn’t be a whippering mess, but he couldn’t help himself when he came all over his stomach and he looked down at himself, with the stupidest grin he could fathom.

-

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[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

I need some self indulgent writing to lift my spirits so have some Earthspark!Bee x Reader enjoying some time outdoors where the former is getting a workout and finds the reader really enjoys what they see. Need some more Bee topping content out there.

You didn't know how to tell him, and weren't sure he'd want to hear it anyway, but...

Bee was so hot when he worked out.

It had been a surprise to learn that bots exhibited physical exhaustion in much the same way humans did, though less of a surprise to find they needed exercise to stay in shape. As you'd grown closer with the Scout, you'd been able to observe his workouts in person and increasingly up close, often offering encouragement, timing his practice races, and keeping track of refreshments to keep him energized. It hadn't missed your attention that he loved when you were openly impressed by his prowess, but you'd never let on how much you enjoyed watching him push his limits. The ragged ventilations, the sheen of coolant on his armor, the increased confidence he got when a session went well... and his cute pout when they didn't. No part of you felt ready to confess your feelings, even if the two of you were regularly intimate in far more conventional ways. It just felt like tempting fate to push the weirdness of interspecies banging to interspecies banging with kinks.

So here you were, pretending not to be more than appropriately interested as he braked hard and drifted to a showy stop across the makeshift finish line, engine roaring as he zipped by you in a gleaming yellow blur. The rush of air that followed him both ruffled your hair and nearly flipped up the thick blanket beneath you, but you still cheered and remembered to click your stopwatch. Chunks of dirt flew across the empty grass field from the force of his spinning stop, the lingering dampness of the cold morning resulting in a purposely showy shower of dew that sparkled in the early morning light. Transforming with momentum to show off an acrobatic twist onto his pedes, he skidded to a halt not five feet in front of you, ground rumbling under the weight of his massive frame.

Exhausted but ecstatic, he let out a sizable sigh that steamed in the chilled air, servos on his hips as he caught his breath and turned his wild optics to you. Every fiber of your willpower had to fight to keep your eyes on his gaze and off the coolant making his armor glisten in the pink light of the sunrise. The sound of his delighted and breathless voice only made it all the harder to focus. "Time?"

"Two minutes and twelve seconds." you replied reflexively, smiling despite your struggles as you were quite happy for the progress.

"Nice! New record!" he gushed with a pump of his fist, the adorable enthusiasm making your heart warm with affection and a tiny dash of pride. In the wake of so much frustration trying to best his old speed record, you'd encouraged him to try something new; mastering obstacles on a variety of terrains, such as the track you'd promised to set up on your open property. It had taken some convincing, but with the promise that he got to see you every time he trained for "motivation", the Scout had conceded. Judging by his beaming smile now, the idea could conclusively be called a good one.

"Woo, gonna need to wash off, but all this training is worth it." he said with a kick of his pede to dislodge some dirt. Despite being rather particular about his appearance, he was always willing to get down and dirty to improve his performance, which you found more attractive than words could possibly convey. Wiping some coolant from his brow and stretching his servos high above his helm, the Scout unintentionally made quite a show of himself in the radiant morning light, which made it impossible to miss the steam rising off his armor. You noted a definite thirst of your own as he gestured for the cooler at your side. "I think I'll have a drink now, this course always leaves me a little low."

Not trusting yourself to speak, you quickly got out the bottle of energon that had chilled in the ice, needing both hands to lift what was to him a tiny refreshment. He took it gratefully, uncapping the lid and tossing it back for deep, thirsty gulps that made your face flush with enough heat you were worried steam might come off your own skin. Your eyes couldn't stay away from his lips as your imagination tormented you with memories of all the ways they had pleased you in the past... What you wouldn't have given for him to go down on you right there, the excitement of the workout making him all the more passionate and perhaps a little aggressive as he pinned you down against the blanket-

His optics opened and flicked in your direction before you had a chance to look away, and your blush turned to a horrified blanche as his perplexed expression let you know you'd been caught staring. 

"You okay?" he asked with concern, wiping away a bit of excess energon on his lip as you wondered if teleporting out of embarrassment was possible.

"Yeah, totally, why?" you replied in a disjointed stammer, barely able to speak and completely incapable of coming up with anything convincing. You suddenly felt far too warm for your jacket, but you had forgotten how to remove it in your overwhelming mortification, and your embarrassment only grew when he failed to be convinced. 

"You were kind of staring off into space." he pointed out without missing a beat, making the ordeal all the more horrifying. He didn't look at all offended, merely curious and a little concerned, but you were still embarrassed in ways you would never live down. Why hadn't you tried to employ just a little self control? Why was it so incredibly hard to resist when he got like this? Why were you still so turned on!?

Survival took over, and you strung together a few halting words in the world's lamest attempt at an excuse. "I was looking at you." you said in your first display of unintentional honesty, trying to look for anything interesting along the empty forest and rolling green pasture. There was nothing, and you had to bite your lip as he cocked his hip and rested a servo on it.

"At me, huh?" he pressed, tilting his helm and raising a brow in a gesture you found far from displeased. You knew him well enough to read the first hints of smugness creeping into his expression, but you were still too flustered to respond to it, your capacity to flirt nonexistent in the face of such utter ridiculousness.

"Well, not at you, but... in your general direction." you mumbled, finally managing to avert your eyes once he started grinning. Ironically, your playful irritation at his ego gave you the strength to exert some willpower, but when he dropped to his knees before you to get up close and personal you were once more reduced to speechlessness. His palm rested on the blanket as his broad shoulders put your entire body in shadow. 

"Are you liking what you see?" he teased, having found you out completely. Looming over you to emphasize his greater size, his smirk deepened when your wide eyes betrayed how utterly overwhelmed you were with arousal. 

Nothing but a long drawn out "uhhhh" escaped your lips as your gaze swept over his broad shoulders and powerful chassis, the lingering heat from his engine warming your already scorching face to the point you reflexively unzipped your jacket. Could anyone really blame you for finding him so utterly irresistible? Could he blame you for finding him so attractive, and for being all the more attracted to him when he exercised?

"Never would have thought you had ulterior motives for these training sessions, Y/N." he purred, looking over the obstacles spread across your field that the two of you had set up together. The accusation, though leveled playfully, brought back enough of your sense of self for you to attempt to explain yourself. 

"I didn't-"

"Kidding, don't worry." he interrupted before you could begin a whole tangent about the first time you'd seen him exercise up close and how unintentionally enlightening it had been. Softening his gaze a little, he met your eyes just in time for you to see desire overtake smug satisfaction. "If anything, I'm kind of flattered."

"Yeah?" you said as he leaned in, moving automatically to close the distance between you. Heat was rising within the both of you now, and you'd been laid down on his berth enough times to know what this was building to as you removed your jacket and laid back on your plush blanket. It also wasn't the first time the two of you had enjoyed yourselves outdoors, but with the added excitement of his workout you felt as giddy as you had the first time he'd carried you across his bedroom.

"Yeah." he confirmed in a low rumble. The greatest difference between then and now was the confidence radiating off of him, which contrasted starkly with all of his prior uncertainty over how much force to use and his fears that he might hurt you. Such hesitation was nowhere to be found as he held his front end up on his elbows and pulled you in for a kiss, his lips just as heated and hungry as you'd hoped as you melted into his touch. Cupping his face with both hands, you let out a whine as he pulled back, though you shifted to a soft groan of delight when he tugged on your pants and nosed his way down your pliant body. Fumbling in your haste, you barely had the capacity to unbutton yourself with his heated ventilations rushing over you. Strong yet nimble servos assisted you in stripping off everything below your waist when your shaking hands proved unable. 

Tender kisses down your stomach had you gasping as he maneuvered your legs to either side of his helm, the warmth of his armor and the rumble of his engine filling your body with enough want you wouldn't have been surprised if both of you started steaming in the chill morning air. Bold in a way you'd never seen before, the big bot made a show of tossing his empty energon bottle aside as he hooked his thumbs under your knees, his voice deep and filled with hunger like you'd never heard. "So if you don't mind... I'm still a little thirsty."

There was no time for a reply as he buried his mouth between your legs, surprising you yet again with a level of aggression and feral want that you'd never seen or experienced from him before. It was everything you could have hoped for and so much more. Fully revved up from his workout, Bumblebee didn't hold back in the slightest, shoving his glossa in deep to your already soaked and eager pussy. You had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep a scream from rolling over the hills, but at his proximity he could hear every moan and cry that you let out into your palm and they only egged him on. Letting out a growl against your throbbing clit, he swirled his glossa about as if relishing your flavor, using one arm to gently pin you against the blanket so he could go as deep as he pleased.

Reflexively grabbing his horns for stability, you thrust clumsily against his face as everything you could have ever dreamed of became a reality. Hot blasts of air from his vents stirred the grass around you in waves, and you had to fully bite your hand to keep yourself quiet as his lips sought out your clit to suck hungrily on the fully erect bud, his dentae grazing its tip as he pulled it into his mouth with relish. Whole galaxies spun before your eyes as he sucked forcefully.

It took no time for all the tension inside of you to gather for a world shattering orgasm, the blissful coil of impending ecstasy reducing you to a whimpering, moaning, gasping mess of desire that clung to him as if the whole world might melt away if you didn't. Once more your attention had him growling with satisfied want, and a glance at his expression found the bright blue optics that typically gazed upon you with nothing but love almost overflowing with animalistic desire. The fact that you wanted him in such a feral way had him unhinged with lust, and it was with that look you screamed out your completion for him to enjoy.

A thirsty glossa pumped inside of you for every throb, finding no resistance thanks to the surge of lubrication that gushed forth as your body spasmed through a white hot burst of ecstasy like no other. Anyone in the world could have overheard your campy cries, but you couldn't have cared less, your entire world consisting of nothing more than the beautiful mech before you and the loving thrusts of his glossa as you careened back to earth to find your heart hammering from exertion and your body twitching from overstimulation.

Once you'd settled completely into the afterglow, Bumblebee withdrew with a parting kiss on your tingling pussy, a trail of lube following his sopping chin as he pulled back to a more conversational distance. Licking his lips, he let out a sigh of his own satisfaction. "Much better..."

"What about you?" you asked in a barely audible whisper, able to see but not really feel or control your legs. Bumblebee wiped some of the mess from his face as he allowed you to lay down and catch your breath, taking a moment to respond as he admired your half naked and fully satisfied form. 

"I'm a little worn out." he replied honestly, sounding far more relaxed than he had previously. It seemed he'd spent just about every bit of energy he had to spare on you and the workout, but there was no doubt desire for more in his voice as he helped you gather your clothes and get dressed. "How about... we sort that out after I get a shower?"

Considering how well boldness had just paid off for him, you decided to let it take the wheel. Shimmying into your underwear, you smiled sweetly up at him as he assisted you in getting your noodle limp legs back into your pants.

"Why not during?" you proposed, loving how he reacted with surprise despite all of his earlier confidence. You put a hand on his and let it linger there, finding your own confidence as your strength returned and the tingles faded enough for you to think straight. "I can help you relax, and, you know, take care of some things."

"I like that better." he replied simply, gathering the supplies from the workout and getting ready to transform so they could be unceremoniously shoved into his passenger seat. Finding your own giddiness returning, you were on cloud nine as he dropped into his altmode and popped the doors for you, welcoming your presence with a rumble of his engine before he zoomed off in the direction of the bunker. It wouldn't surprise you if the two of you were utterly spent by noon.

[wjhik]

Maybe We Were a Bit Too Loud.. (Jude Bellingham) *Smut*

A/N: been a bit too many Jude stories. if yall have any trent requests pls send

Y/N's POV:

Jude and I have both been so occupied in our work, we have barely got any time to spend with our daughter, let alone ourselves. Kiera had a play at school, so I got off work early. Unfortunately, Jude couldn't make it. She was quite upset about it, but I made sure to make it up to her. We had a girls day. We went to the Salon and got our nails done. I needed a refill on my nails and she wanted to get some color for her birthday party in a few days. I also got her some ice cream and had a shopping spree.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Kiera yells. She really doesn't have to be so loud. I'm right next to her. It has been a long day. As fun as it was, it was fucking exhausting. I look at her and she shows me some toy that she has, explaining it as if I didn't buy it for her. "Honey, that's amazing." I play into her excitement. "Mum, I'm hungry." She tells me, abruptly dropping her toy. "Let's get you some food, my little hungry bunny." I say, scooping her up and kissing her tummy. She starts wriggling in a fit of ticklish laughter.

I finish making spaghetti Bolognese as per my hungry bunny's request. She's just like her father. I take out her Minnie Mouse plate from the kitchen cabinet and give her some pasta. I also pair it with some leftover mashed potato and some freshly steamed broccoli and carrots. "Mama! I don't like carrots!" Kiera yells, very politely. "I know, sweetheart, but if you don't want to end up with glasses like mama, you have to have them." I tell her. She's not a picky eater, unlike me, but carrots are her weakness. It's not fun waking up to see a blurry husband, and if she wants to escape my genetic curse of poor eyesight, she has to eat her carrot. "Hmph. Fine." She says, crossing her arms but still listening to me. She's such a blessing.

As I'm serving myself the spaghetti and the vegetables (purely to be a good roll model to my daughter) for myself, I hear the door lock rattling. I look up to see my husband walk through the door. "Daddy!!" Kiera yells, attempting to get off of our high counter chairs. Jude quickly walks to his carbon copy and picks her up. "Hello, my love." He says, littering her face with kisses and placing her back on her chair. She continues munching away at her veggies. "Mhh...Whatever you made smells amazing." He says, walking to the back of the counter, where I place my plate onto the table and get out his plate. "Spaghetti Bolognese." I tell him. He grabs me by the waist and places a kiss on my head. "Missed ya." He says, then placing a kiss on my lips. "Missed you too." I reply. "Ewwww." We hear a little voice say. Our little love session is interrupted by Kiera fake gagging. She learns too much from Jobe. "Alright, alright. Go sit down, love." I tell Jude. He sits down and I place his food in front of him. He quickly gobbles it up.

"Mama, can we watch bluey?" Kiera asks. "No, honey. It's mama's turn to choose." Jude says. Kiera is sat on her little pink blanket at the left in of our very large L-shaped white couch. Jude and I are sitting on the right side. "But, daddy-" She argues back. "No 'but's." Jude says sternly. "You got your turn yesterday, and I was before you. Mama's last few turns were taken by us, too. It's time we let her choose." He explains to our daughter. She lets out a huff and puff. "Jude, it's not that serious. Let her watch. I'm pretty tired anyways." I whisper to Jude a bit too loud. "Yay! Thank you, mama!" She says, taking the remote from Jude and playing her show. "Baby, you can't give in." Jude begins a lecture. "Hey, don't tell me. You're the one who spoils her." I tell him. I'm supposed to be the strict parent, not him.

Jude put's his arm over my shoulders after the 76th episode of these stupid Australian dogs. I would go to bed, but this is the only family time we've had in weeks. I reach for my phone to check when bedtime will roll around. I let out a sigh as I realize tomorrow is a weekend, therefor she can sleep in. Jude senses my frustration and pulls me in deeper. Kiera's trance is broken when she looks over to see her parents at peace. She immediately stands up on the couch makes the strut towards us. She decides to sit right in between Jude and I, of course cuddling him and giving me her back. Jude and I's cuddle session was cut way too short.

My head moves from it’s comfortable position on the back of the couch to look at where the little snores are coming from. I see our little monkey finally asleep after 3 long hours of Australian dogs. I pat Jude's arm and he, in response, picks her up and starts walking towards the stairs. I clean up some of the cups, snacks, and toys left on the coffee table and quickly follow Jude's path. I close the baby gate at the top of the stairs Jude installed when Kiera starting crawling and head towards Keira's bedroom. I creak the door open to see Jude putting her into bed. He firmly tucks her into bed and places her pink bunny next to her. On his way out, he turns on her moon-shaped nightlight, as she's afraid of the dark, and shuts the door behind him.

Jude backs out of the room, still facing his daughter. He turns around and gets slightly startled by me standing directly behind him. "Fuck, baby. You scared me. I didn't know you were there." He says putting his hand on his own chest. "I'm sorry." I tell him, nuzzling myself into his chest. I haven't been able to feel Jude without another little lady jumping on him. Jude places his hand on the back of my head and pushes me further into him. "Let's get you to bed, pretty lady." He grabs my hand and leads me to our shared bedroom.

"Where are you going? You've already done all your bathroom shit." He tells me as I throw the blanket off myself. "Mama's going to go change into some PJs. She doesn't feel like being caught in a bra and panties when Keira decides to love bomb you tomorrow morning." Did I just say that? "Mama's gonna do what?" Jude makes fun of my use of 'mom language'. "See what this damn kid is doing to me?" I tell him, walking into our walk-in closet. I walk into my side of our closet. I open the drawer of 'sexy' underwear I have. it's basically has cobwebs on it. I pick out Jude's formerly favorite white set. I look at myself in the mirror, feeling better about myself than the last time I put it on.

Jude took me to a fancy hotel a few weeks after Keira was born to give me a break. I decided to bring along this set to 'impress' him. I was freshly postpartum, and I felt very insecure. I haven't put it on since then, but I've been working hard to get my prepartum body back. Obviously, I don't look the same as young, active, 20-year-old Y/N Jude met, but I would say I look pretty darn okay. I quickly slip on a silky robe, coming right under my arse. I tie it in a way where it cinches my waist and leaving the front open enough to give Jude a peak of his former bestie.

Jude is sat up on his side of the bed, book in hand. (Jude 110% does not read before but, but dad!jude does) I walk over to my side of the bed, taking an excessive amount of time in hopes that Jude will notice me. "Hey, baby? I was wondering if- Whoa." He says, taking his eyes away from his book. "Whoa?" I say, pretending to be clueless. Jude quickly puts his book on the side table and pushes the blanket off of his lap. He gets up and walks towards me. I open my arms for him to come into. He grabs my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. "You look amazing, love." He tells me, leaning in to kiss my neck. He starts licking and sucking on the sensitive spot behind my ear. "Jude..." I moan, throwing my head back. Jude leaves my neck and puts his hands right where my robe ends. He effortlessly lifts me up.

He goes back to kissing me as he walks us over to the bed. He places me in the middle of it. He undoes my robe and kisses me from my neck down to my stomach. He leaves a few bites and marks on my stomach. He works his way down to my panties and slowly takes them off. He starts to lick and suck on my clit. He slowly works his way up to using 3 fingers inside me. I'm moaning and whining with my hands in his hair. "Fuck, Jude. That feels so good!" I moan out, grabbing his hair even tighter. Normally, he would talk a lot during sex, but he's so focus on me and making me feel good that he can't be bothered to dirty talk.

"Fuck, baby. Just like that. Ride me like that. Taking me so well." He says, pushing my hips back and forth. He has my robe open up top, but tied up. I ended up getting too cold, but we were too eager to stop to change the temperature, so I put on the robe again. I have my hands on his chest, using him as leverage to keep me moving. I feel my legs give out, and Jude senses it. He grabs me and flips me onto the bed. He quickly gives me a passionate kiss and pulls out of me. "Turn over, baby. On your belly." He tells me. I quickly obey, too horny to resist. I get on my hands and knees. Jude pushes his dick back in and thrusts into me at an ungodly pace. The headboard is slamming against our wall, and I'm making some very loud and lewd noises. Jude reaches up to my head and grabs a handful of my long hair. He wraps it around his hand and uses it to pull my head back. He uses this to kiss my neck, leaving even more marks than before. He pulls me off my hands and makes me grab the headboard. He wraps his unused hand around my throat and squeezes lightly. "You like that, baby? Like the way I'm fucking you?" Jude grunts into my ear. "Yes, baby. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" I moan out. I can feel a knot start to go undone in my stomach. "Baby, I'm gonna-" I tell him, reaching back to put my hands in his hair. "I know, sweetie. Cum for me. Cum around me, my love." As I hear that, I quickly let my orgasm wash over me, Jude following close behind me, filling me up with his warm cum.

"That was amazing." He tells me, kissing my sweaty forehead. Jude had cleaned me and himself up and gotten us some very fancy champagne from our wine cellar. "I know. I'm glad we got some time alone, finally." I tell him, looking up to kiss his lips. It's been way too long since Jude and I got freaky. It's hard to find the time when you're raising the clingiest child of all time. Jude takes a sip of his sparkly drink and turns on the electronic fireplace. It's mainly ambience, but it's nice to have. He turns off the two nightlights and gets comfy. Him and I drink and talk the night away, until we both cave to our parental positions and fall asleep with a show in the background.

(Time skip)

I open my eyes to see a blurry world. I reach over to the side table where I fumble until I find my glasses. I put them on and turn to face my husband. Somewhere along the night, he turned off the T.V. and tucked us into bed, taking off my glasses and placing them on my side table. On the rare occasion where I get to see him, he looks so beautiful in the mornings. I snuggle into him and kiss his forehead. I nuzzle into him and close my eyes once again, enjoying the quite morning. No rush. No Keira. This is nice. I feel Jude stirring slightly. He knows I'm awake as I have my glasses on. He places a kiss on my lips as I kiss him back. "Good morning." I tell him, giddy as ever. It's like it's our first night together at his mum's place again. "Good morning, love." He says in his raspy morning voice. Him and I chat a little before hearing a door creak open. I look over Jude's shoulder to see Kiera standing there with her bunny in her hands, her hair wild as ever.

"Can I come in?" She asks, rubbing her eyes. I quickly but discreetly slip on my panties that were discarded the night before. "Of course, love." Jude says, opening his arms to his baby girl. He places her in the middle of us, and for once she chooses to cuddle me and not Jude. I accept her cuddles with open arms and pull her in closer. "I like this. It's soft." She tells me, rubbing over my robe. Jude lets out a laugh and kisses the back of her head. He slings his arm over the two of us and pulls us into him.

"Daddy? I have a question." She asks her father who has his head on the pillow and his eyes closed. He lets out a 'hmm?' while keeping his eyes closed. "Are you nice to mama?" Jude and and I are both shocked by the question. "Of course he is, baby. Why are you asking?" I ask her. "I heard some banging on the wall yesterday and you yelling." She tells us, now sitting up. Jude and I both mentally face palm. I look at him, expecting an answer just to see him looking at me the same way. "Sweety, mama and I were just playing. She's fine." Jude explains to her. "But you said that you shouldn't play in a way where people get hurt." She says crossing her arms, visibly upset with her daddy. "Baby, I wasn't hurt." I tell her, rubbing her arm. "Then, why were you yelling?" She asks. "Umm..." I look over to Jude for an answer once again, but he is looking around the room, playing dumb. Amazing. "You know how you start yelling when your daddy tickles you? Like that." I come up with an excuse. "Oh. Daddy tickled you for a long time then." Jude starts snickering and I simply nod. Keira nods, satisfied with the answer. Jude tells her to go use the toilet and brush her teeth. She gets up and marches out of the room.

"So, can I tickle you again?"

Wattpad: funkyfishfeet

DM for requests

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i really just wanted to write some soft brady and then a little smut snuck in there whoops (don’t think anyone will complain lol) but anyway, i love this version of soft, domestic brady and i needed it for my sanity 🫠 also if anyone has any idea what brady’s dogs’ names are, that would be helpful otherwise i’m either going to rename them or just keep referring to them as “the dogs” 😭

word count: 3.2k

tw: pregnancy, innuendo, grinding, nipple play, otherwise it’s mostly just domestic fluff

summary: a quiet night in with brady gets handsy and then it’s not such a quiet night anymore

Brady’s sitting at the foot of the bed, baby monitor in hand, when you pad out of the bathroom, letting a cloud of lavender and eucalyptus steam dissipate into the air. He looks up at you and offers up a tired smile, “baby duck’s out like a light and I only had to read Curious George three times tonight.” He pauses and adds, “dogs are standing guard in the hallway outside her room too.”

“Down from four,” you smile, “I’m impressed, daddy.”

Brady’s lips tilt up in a smirk - you know exactly what you’re doing - and he sets the baby monitor down on the mattress. “Thought you were going to wait for me,” he says, “so we could shower together?”

You shake your head a little, the towel gaping open over your bump, exposing most of your lower half to your husband. You don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down to the swell of your stomach and lower. “I needed to wash off the day,” you say around a little yawn. “Growing two more Skjei babies is exhausting work.”

“C’mere,” he waves his hand in the air, pats the mattress. “Let me take care of you.”

Brady gets up from the mattress and pulls you in for a sweet kiss, cupping your jaw in one hand. You smile against his lips and sit down heavily on the mattress when he pulls away. Your hand automatically finds the curve of your stomach, the bump feeling harder and the babies rolling around under your skin. One of them kicks at your palm and you smile, hormonal tears welling up. You’ll never get over the feeling of them wiggling around inside of you.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Brady encourages you softly, holding your Nivea body lotion in one hand. “Full service lotion and massage coming up.”

“Full service?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him while you lean back, hauling a pillow from the top of the bed down to tuck under your head. The towel that was barely wrapped around your body to begin with falls to your sides, leaving you completely exposed to Brady, the swell of your stomach blocking your view of him a little.

He gazes at you softly, eyes lingering on your fuller breasts and bare cunt. You prop up on the pillow a bit, smiling to yourself when you see the tenting behind his boxers. Not that you’re quite in the mood for sex right now, nausea your ever-present companion this pregnancy, but it’s nice to know that Brady’s still attracted to you.

“If that’s what you want,” Brady laughs quietly, pumping some lotion into the palm of his hand. He lifts your left foot and sets it on his thigh so he can start rubbing lotion into your skin. “You know I’m always happy to get my hands on you in any way I can.”

You hum happily, the faint pulse between your legs only adding to the experience of Brady’s impromptu massage. His thumbs dig into the ball of your foot and you groan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “Right there, oh my god. I didn’t realize how sore my feet were,” you sigh, wiggling your toes in his grip.

Brady continues his massage, making sure each of your muscles are loose before moving on. The babies tumble around in your womb, the familiar feeling as reassuring as your own heartbeat.

“Should we find you better sneakers or something?” Brady asks, switching to lotion and massage your other foot. Your leg splays out to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt and normally you’d feel mild embarrassment about being so exposed, even to your husband, but you’re too tired to even care. “You shouldn’t be wearing anything that has bad support.”

“Mhm, my Adidas ones are fine,” you hum, eyes closing a little as Brady’s hands work lotion into your skin. He massages the backs of your thighs and slides his hands under your body to cop a feel of your ass, under the guise of lotioning you up there too. You crack an eye open at him and he’s smiling boyishly. His hair flops over his forehead a little, eyes sparkling.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You know I love your ass.”

“It used to be so nice too,” you sigh mournfully. You’re flatter than a pancake now, no matter how many pregnancy-safe squats you do. Brady pinches you gently.

“Still really nice,” he says, drawing his hands around your sides and resting them on your hips. “Whole body is gorgeous, my beautiful wife.”

You wrinkle your nose at him, “flatterer.” Your foot kicks gently at his thigh and he sticks his tongue out at you playfully. He sits in between your legs, dragging you forward a little so your legs are on either side of his, ass in the cradle of his legs, cunt nearly pressed against his clothed cock. More lotion gets pumped into his hands and he takes a minute to warm it up before smoothing it over the swell of your stomach. His hands are huge and span nearly across the entire bump, radiating warmth and making the babies kick.

“Can’t wait to feel these guys kick,” he says, rubbing his thumbs in little arcs over your skin. You can feel them react to his touch and smile softly.

“They’re going nuts right now,” you reply, shifting slightly. You wince when one of them gets a good, hard kick in. “All the Skjei babies love listening to their Daddy’s voice.”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose and continues massaging lotion into your skin, until your stomach is practically shiny. “How were salt and pepper today? Behaving?” He presses a kiss to your stomach, resting his cheek against the peak of the swell briefly. The rasp of his playoff beard against your skin sends a little shiver up your spine and heat between your legs.

You grin at the nicknames - ever since you’d found out it was twins, you and Brady have been referring to them by the names of famous duos. It’s been fun coming up with new pairings whenever you talk about the twins.

“Rolling around in there like little athletes-to-be,” you run a hand through Brady’s hair. “Salt’s hanging out low on my bladder and Pepper’s wedged up under my ribs. It already feels like they’re running out of room and we still have three and a half months to go.”

“Behave for your mama,” Brady mumbles against your stomach, tapping at the sides of your stomach with his fingers. The babies react to his voice and touch, jockeying for space and you wince a little until they settle. Brady looks up at you and once he’s satisfied that you’re comfortable, he adds another layer of lotion to your stomach before working his way up your chest, being gentle around your sore, swollen breasts. You sigh contentedly and relax back into the mattress, watching Brady’s hands work slowly and methodically over your chest, thumbs carefully passing over your nipples. They tighten under his touch and Brady smirks at you.

“My second favorite set of twins,” he teases, laughing. “Getting bigger by the day.”

“Shut up, perv,” you tease back, rolling your leg to knock against his side with your knee. “These are functional tits now, not for play.”

“Let me know when they’re for fun again,” Brady grins, still working his fingers over your skin. Your body knows and loves his touch, fingertips tingling and stomach tightening. You exhale, dropping your head back against the pillow and spreading your legs open a little wider. The hard press of Brady’s cock against your core is nice, the heat making you wiggle against him. His fingers falter a little against your skin.

You hum. “Maybe they can handle a little fun,” you murmur, pressing down as best you can over Brady’s groin. “Just a little.”

“Tell me when you’ve had enough, sweetheart,” Brady replies, rolling one of your pebbled nipples with his fingers You hiss at the sensation, arching a little into his touch. His other hand kneads at the swell of your breast, fingers digging into the curve that spills to the side of your torso. A frisson of desire curls your toes and you push up on one hand, trying to get a little more pressure from Brady’s cock.

“Ah, I…” you trail off, finding the position that has the ridge of Brady’s erection pressed right up against your swollen clit. “Oh! There!”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs, dipping his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue over your lower lip. His hips move slowly under you, rolling up into yours and pressing his cock against your clit. You sigh into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck and nails scratching gently at his skin. He trails his mouth down over your neck, kissing and sucking lightly until he gets to the swell of your breast. He presses a sweet kiss to the top curve and then sucks your nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the pebbled nub. He pulls back almost as quick, sticking his tongue out and frowning. “Ugh, maybe I should’ve done that before lotioning you up. You taste like Nivea.”

You giggle, breathless. “Could’ve been worse,” you murmur, using your grip around his neck to shift until you’re straddling him, the curve of your stomach pressed against his, your clit right over his cock. His hands wrap around your back and hold you in place so you can grind down over him at your own pace. “At least I’m clean.”

Brady’s hips bounce up into yours and his hands roam up and down your back, the tight coil of your building orgasm gripping your lower stomach. You bury your face in his neck and gasp, arousal trickling down your thighs and soaking the fabric of Brady’s boxers. The damp fabric rubs against your clit, giving you just enough friction that you’re coming with a gush over Brady’s lap, panting from the exertion of moving your body and the diminished lung capacity from your growing stomach. All the extra blood flow in your body has you over sensitive and it’s never been easier to come, when you’re in the mood.

“Good girl,” Brady praises you, smoothing down your hair and pressing kisses over the parts of your face he can reach. “Feels good, right? Having a little fun?”

“Mhm,” you hum tiredly, slumped over his chest, thighs shaking. The babies kick wildly, your heartbeat jackhammering in your chest. “No more fun, too tired.”

Your husband laughs and lets you drape over him like a limp rag. “I know, but you needed that,” he scrapes his hand through your hair, pulling out the loose hair tie with the other before working your hair back up into a messy bun. “You feel like you’re about to pass out.”

“Just wanna cuddle with you,” you murmur, kissing the side of his neck. You shift on his lap, erection still poking into your ass. You feel bad, but your entire body is limp and you couldn’t help Brady get off if you tried.

Brady adjusts you, bracing one arm under your ass so he can lie you back down on the mattress. The front of his boxers are a mess and you wince at the tented fabric. He catches where your gaze lands and shakes his head, “hey, don’t worry about me. I’m going to clean you up and we’ll get into bed for some rest, okay?”

You yawn and nod, thighs still trembling as Brady goes about wiping between your legs with the towel from your shower. He finishes applying lotion to your arms, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing them when he’s done. At one point, he gets off the bed and comes back with your preferred loungewear - an extremely oversized waffle knit set of wide legged pants and pullover - gently manipulating your limbs into the fabric.

“You’re so good,” you mumble, half asleep. You crawl under the covers, pushing a pillow between your legs to get comfortable.

“You make it easy,” Brady counters, swapping his wet boxers for a clean pair before climbing into bed behind you. He pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head under his chin. One palm is warm and solid, curved protectively over your stomach. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

You’re asleep before he even finishes talking, waking up later, when you hear some noise coming from the baby monitor. A muffled grumble is all you can manage before Brady is kissing the top of your head, telling you that he’s got it. The mattress dips and shifts as he gets up and even though sleep is pulling at your eyelids, you start to wake up, yawning.

Through the monitor, you can hear Brady talking softly to Daphne, her toddler gibberish coming through loud and clear. A tap on the screen of your phone informs you that it’s only 2 in the morning, and she’s been sleeping through the night for at least a year now, so you wonder what woke her up. You roll over slightly and watch on the little screen as Brady lifts your daughter out of her crib, the dogs gathered around his legs. Daphne wraps her little arms and legs around Brady like an octopus and your heart squeezes at how cute they are, even in the shitty screen of the monitor. Brady stands by the crib, swaying a little, clearly trying to get her back to sleep.

It obviously doesn’t work, because soon enough, Brady is making his way out of the nursery that won’t be the nursery for much longer. The dogs follow him out of the room and in a few seconds, Brady’s back in your room, Daphne curled up against his shoulder and a wry smile on his face.

“What happened?” You ask quietly, pulling the covers back so they can join you in bed. The dogs are nowhere to be found and you assume they’re in a pile in the hallway as usual.

“Hi, mama!” Daphne chirps, too awake for this early in the morning. Her tiny fists are curled around the corner of her blanket and the collar of Brady’s shirt and she beams at you with that adorable toddler smile you love so much.

“Hi, my little duck,” you hold out your arms for her and she releases Brady to come to you, tucked safety against your chest, hand splayed right over your heart. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Brady pulls the covers up around the three of you and props his head up on his hand, looking down at Daphne with a soft expression on his face.

“See nana,” she says against your shirt. “Time see nana?”

You stroke her soft hair, pulling the messy pieces off her forehead. “Oh, not yet, baby. It’s not time to see Nana. She’s coming in a couple of days, for Daddy’s big games,” you murmur soothingly. Brady’s parents are coming to Raleigh for the start of the playoffs in a few days and Daphne’s beyond excited to see them.

“Nana’s coming soon,” Brady promises. “But you have to go to sleep.”

“Nana now!” Daphne huffs, kicking her little feet. “See nana!”

“We’re going to spend so much time with Nana,” you continue to stroke her hair, encouraged by the way her eyelids take a few extra second to open when she blinks. “After Daddy’s big games, we’re going to Minnesota and we’re going to see Nana every day.”

You look over at Brady, “that reminds me, we need to finalize the plans. Because I don’t want to be flying back and forth after a certain point and I don’t want Hall and Oates to be born in Minnesota.”

He rubs his hand over Daphne’s back steadily. “We can always drive. But we’ll be back home weeks before the babies are due,” he reassures you. “Can’t stay too long anyway, with training camp starting.”

You hum, looking forward to a few weeks in Minnesota with Brady’s family and a quiet summer spent by the lake. Daphne tugs at your shirt and you look down at her, waiting. She pats your stomach and grins, “babies! Mama babies!”

“That’s right,” you smile tiredly, cuddling her close. “The babies are here with Mama and Daddy. They’re Daphne’s babies, right? You’re going to be such a good big sister.”

She wriggles away from your embrace, flopping onto her back, arms and legs starfished in between you and Brady. Heaving a sigh that’s very dramatic for such a small frame, she reaches one hand to grab at Brady’s shirt again. “Dada, book?” She blinks up at him with wide eyes and a little smile.

Brady’s head falls back against the pillow dramatically and you giggle along with Daphne, who’s amused by Daddy’s silliness.

“Daffy duck wants another story?” Brady asks, kissing Daphne’s cheeks until she’s giggling madly, squirming around on the bed. You don’t love that he’s riling her up, but they’re honestly too adorable to say anything.

“Book!” She confirms on a giggled squeal. “George!”

“Curious George?” Brady groans. “Nothing else?

Daphne shakes her head at him with a wide smile on her face. You laugh at him, “that’s one on the Curious George count for today.”

“Don’t remind me,” he mutters, climbing back out of bed and flipping the covers up so you both stay warm. Daphne presses her blanket close to her face and yawns, rolling onto Brady’s side of the bed while he’s gone. You pat at her little pajama covered butt and she whips her head over to give you a little squint.

“No, mama!” She tells you seriously. “I s’eep.”

You barely stifle a snort. This kid.

“Okay, baby, you sleep,” you tell her, managing to smile just a little bit. “We’ll keep the bed warm for Daddy.”

Brady’s back less than two minutes later, bright yellow Curious George book in hand. He stops short when he sees Daphne on his side of the bed and plants his hands on his hips. “Hey, that’s Daddy’s side,” he tells her, faux-seriously, breaking into a chuckle.

She giggles up at him from behind her hands. “Daddy in middle!”

“Nope,” Brady shakes his head, “Daphy in middle. Scoot.”

She wiggles her entire body in the way only a two-year-old can, kicking at blankets and sheets. Brady gives her a little nudge with one hand and she shimmies to the side, making space for him. You wrap her up in your arms, holding her tight, kissing the top of her head.

It’s so early and you’re going to be exhausted in the morning, but as Brady starts reading the book he could definitely recite from memory at this point, Daphne’s attention wholly on the pictures, you’ve never been more glad for the wake up.

Daphne’s little hand wraps around your fingers draped over her little baby gut and her cheek is squished against your inner bicep. Her tiny body radiates heat like a furnace and you’re just soaking up all the moments where it’s just the three of you.

Under the covers, Brady lets his legs drift over and tangle with yours, sharing a soft smile with you over Daphne’s head. He winks at you and you beam back, letting your eyes drift shut and Brady’s voice lull you to sleep.

[starcrossedslytherin]

Point to the Sky

Sebastian Sallow x reader

WC: 3.4K

A/N: First fic here! Bit nervous to post this, but I’m doing so anyway! I wanted to write for hogwarts legacy and Harry Potter characters (specifically the marauders), so I started a new blog to do so! I really appreciate feedback!

Summary: After Sebastian calls you ignorant despite all you do to help him, you need some time to yourself to blow off steam. Unfortunately, the presence of Ashwinders and your lack of Wiggenweld potions leads to other plans.

---

How did you get here?

How did you get here, bleeding out in the middle of a bandit camp.

You never think things through, you should have thought this through.

It was Sebastian’s fault, it truly was. No matter the fact it was your decision to head out to the highlands today, to stay away from the Castle, or Hogsmeade, or Feldcroft, or anywhere Sebastian would go. It was his fault you needed to get away.

You would do anything for him. You do everything for him. And he does nothing but blame you, call you ignorant, disregard all you’ve done to help Anne, all the pressure and stress this year, your first year at Hogswarts, has put onto you.

Doesn’t he understand?

Doesn’t anybody understand?

Now, none of that seemed to matter. You had decided after your fight with Sebastian you needed out, that anywhere he might be would be insufferable. Claire Beaumont had asked you to clear out two Goblin encampments, which lead you to clearing out more and more and soon you were exhausted, running on pure adrenaline and rage.

That’s when you were caught off guard by diffindo casted at you, ripping through your chest and down your dominant arm. You had let out a scream at the time, falling to your knees and clutching your fresh wounds, swearing blood all throughout your robes. You barely remember blocking the next curse sent your way, returning a stunning spelling and depluso, sending your enemy into a collision with a building nearby which crumpled on top of them.

You finally let yourself collapse, a sob escapes as you allow the day to take its toll on you. Sweat and blood were smeared across your face and you were terrified of letting go of your arm, too afraid to look down at the damage because you knew it was bad. You could feel by the wet spot continuously growing bigger through the torn fabric.

Wiggenweld potions!

They had healed you a million times with injuries almost as bad, surely they get the job done here. You had dropped your bag when the duel had first began and with a little groaning and a lot of pain, you manage to your feet and grab your bag.

Empty.

You let out a weak scream. You knew it would be. You had made more potions last night in the Room of Requirement but you didn’t think to grab them, saving them for a time you planned to go out, not a spontaneous anger trip because you were fighting with… with Sebastian.

The thought of him almost hurt as much as the physical pain you’ve been in. Just yesterday you thought maybe… maybe there could be more between the two of you and today you were cursing Ashwinders because of him.

And yet, you still wished he was here.

That he would be be next to you, fighting by your side, making sure you were alright with a wiggenweld potion because he knew you wouldn’t have any more because he cares about you.

But he wasn’t here.

No one was.

You were here alone.

Except for the Ashwinders aparating behind you.

“Reducto!”

You barely have time to duck and roll out of the way, shooting confringo at your enemy, only to see two of them side by side. You don’t have enough strength in you for a big duel, you barely have enough in you as you shoot basic spells their way and blocking the ones coming at you, including dodging the lightning strikes the executioner is casting. You don’t know how much longer you could last. You could barely hold up your arm without trembling in pain.

You finally have the upper hand as the lightning curse is cast and you pull both Ashwinders in front of you into it, but not before one duelist manages out a quick reducto sent your way.

The spell hits you the same time both Ashwinders are taken care of and you are sent backwards screaming in pain. Your entire side is throbbing and you can’t think. You can’t move. You can only sit there, watching the stain on your clothes grow bigger and bigger.

You need help.

You read something once in a book for class about shooting red sparks onto the air as a call for help. You mentioned it to Sebastian afterwards, he promised if you did it he would always find you.

You hope it was true.

The last curse knocked your wand out of your hand, sending it just out of your reach. Knowing what has to be done, you roll closer to your wand, scraping your fingers in the dirt in a pitiful attempt to reach before you slowly start gasping for breaths to hide your sobs.

Pain rips up your body, pulling a cry from your lips as you try to keep from curling in pain. Your trembling fingers brush against your wand, pulling another gasp of breath as you inch impossibly closer until you can hold your wand in your non-dominant hand. Your dominant hand is useless, you could barely move it, let alone grip your wand. You finally allow yourself to scream, a sound quickly turning into a sob as you bury your face into your arm and still for a few moments.

The pain is getting to you, you can feel it happening as your body grows far more tired than it has all day. Your vision is starting to blur as you roll onto your back, struggling to point it to the sky.

You quickly shoot 3 bright red sparks into the air and they fly high before disappearing far higher than you’ve ever flown. You know it was dangerous, you know anyone could have seen them, could know exactly where you were. Rookwood, Ranrok, any of their lot, but also Sebastian. Despite how you’ve been feeling towards the boy as of late, you could only hope Sebastian could see your signal and get to you first as your eyes drift close and your arm falls to the ground.

---

Ominis was sure he searched the whole castle for you and yet his wand had proved to him quite a few times that you weren’t anywhere here. He did, however, find Sebastian sitting on a bench in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Sebastian.” He calls out his friend’s name before heading to take the open seat next to him. “Have you seen Y/N? I can’t locate her in the castle, I assumed she’d be with you somewhere.”

Sebastian can’t even look at Ominis as he twirls his wand around in his hand. “Haven’t seen her.”

Ominis is quiet, his brows pulling together at his friends depressing demeanor. “What happened? What did you do?”

Sebastian is taken back, finally looking at the blond boy. “Me? Why do you assume I was the cause of anything?” The silent but knowing look Ominis wore on his face causes Sebastian to sigh heavily. “I… I was with her this morning and I said…” he trails off thinking back on the conversation he called you ignorant and you curtly replied, implying his uncle was correct about Sebastian not knowing when to stop. “I said something I regret, that I don’t know how to take back.”

Ominis frowns, wondering what Sebastian could have said to you to cause a rift between the two of you. “You could start by apologizing.”

“Alright.” Sebastian nods, preparing himself for the idea. “I’ll apologize to her. The next time I see her.” Ominis was quiet once again but the small smirk on his lips has Sebastian’s shoulders sagging. “We’re going to find her now, aren’t we?”

Ominis can only put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “She would find you if the roles were reversed.”

---

Ominis follows after Sebastian who is leading the way through Hogsmeade. Ominis can tell how upset the conversation with you has made him, but he knows how Sebastian has acted these last weeks with his twin’s sickness.

“She’s not here.” Sebastian groans, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, impatient to find you and be allowed back to his sulking. “She’s probably back at the castle somewhere and we missed her.”

Ominis frowns and shakes his head. “She could also be in danger. You know what our friend likes to do in her free time.”

Sebastian’s foot tapping stops. Ominis has a point, but they also know you well enough to know you wouldn’t fight without a supply of wiggenweld potions in your bag.

Unless you left after an argument without thinking of the possibility of needing wiggenweld. “How are we supposed to find her? She could be anywhere! She could be in the forest, or down by the coast, or-or…” Sebastian’s sentences are stopped as he looks out in the sky, ignoring the sun disappearing on the horizon. “Did you see that?” He asks Ominis, not sure his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him in the setting sky.

“… no.”

“Oh. Right.” Sebastian shakes his head, looking towards his blind best friend and feeling a little dumb at his question. “In the sky, there were these red sparks coming up from the trees south of Hogwarts.”

“Sparks?” Ominis furrows his brows, trying to understand what Sebastian is saying.

Just point to the sky and I’ll find you.

Promise?

I promise.

“It’s Y/N, it has to be!” Sebastian is sure of it. He remembers joining you in the library one day, trying not to be obvious as he stares at you, but it didn’t matter as it seemed you had a sixth sense for knowing when he was looking at you. “Come on!”

---

Sebastian pushes trees away from his face, doing his absolute best not to send them flying into Ominis’ face who was following behind him, using his wand to help him as he holds the back of Sebastian’s robe. “Will you slow down?” Ominis says before running into his best friend’s back, barely stopping in time.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian is quick to say, making sure his friend is fine before focusing on their mission. “She’s around here, I’m sure of it.”

It was Ominis who found you first, sensing your location with his wand as he leads Sebastian in the correct direction. Sebastian freezes when he sees you laying on the ground, your wand trailing off your fingers into the dirt below you. “Y/N?” Ominis says as he kneals down next to you, putting his arm on your arm and gently moving up to your neck. “She’s barely breathing.” He sighs in relief at finding your pulse, however weak it was.

Sebastian is in shock as he looked at you but he couldn’t look past the blood stains on your robes. “She’s bleeding, on her chest and arm, it looks bad.”

Ominis carefully checks what Sebastian pointed out before pulling away, knowing his hands were now stained with your blood. He speaks quickly. “We need to get her to Hogwarts, to the hospital wing.”

Sebastian nods despite Ominis being unable to see it. He glances around the three of you and his eyes land on an empty vial of what used to be Wiggenweld potion. You did run out. His eyes widen before he searches his robes. “I have- wait, I have…” He trails off for a brief moment, absolutely certain he had some somewhere until he pulls out the green vial, “This!”

Ominis furrows his brows until Sebastian hands it to him. Sebastian had kept himself away from you until this moment. He knew deep down it was his fault that you were in this position and there was no way he could deny it, so he stayed back, not wanting to upset you further should you have woken up. However, he couldn’t help himself after he passed Ominis the vial. His hand ghosted over your head before he brushes your hair out of your face. It stuck to your skin just a bit from your sweat, blood, and tears and Sebastian’s heart ached.

He never wanted to see you like this again.

“You carry a wiggenweld potion on you?” Ominis’ words pull him back to reality as he blinks away any chance of tears falling on his own face. “Since when?”

“Since she started venturing out.” He clears his throat. “Never know when she might need one.”

Ominis doesn’t say anything else. He can only imagine how Sebastian is feeling in this moment and he is worried for you as well. He gently cups your jaw and opens your mouth and does his best to make sure he has lined the potion up with your mouth perfectly before pouring the whole vial.

“There. She should be getting better until he can get her-” Ominis is cut off by the sounds of metal clanking and talking through the tree lines, coming from almost all directions towards them. “Someone’s coming.” He tells Sebastian and jumps to his feet, holding his wand in the air.

“I can hear them. They probably saw Y/N’s sparks.” Sebastian shakes his head, not believing the fact that he forgot that others could have found you as well.

“It sounds like a whole army.”

Sebastian looks down at you, wishing he could have known if the Wiggenweld potion was even doing anything for you. You hadn’t moved at all and your breathing was still short. “We have to get her out of here!”

“How?” Ominis points his wand in another direction, finding more and more goblins, ashwinders, and enemies everywhere. “There’s nowhere to go?”

“There has to be something-” Sebastian’s sentence is stopped short as his eyes land on your bag. You’ve shown him this bag before. You’ve pulled magnificent beasts out of this bag before and right now, that seems to be your only chance at an escape. “Ominis,” Sebastian places a hand on the boys’ shoulder before reaching for the bag, “you might not like this.” Ominis can’t get a question in before Sebastian opens the bag. The next thing the blind blond hears is hooves stomping against the ground, wings beating in the air, and Sebastian’s excited gasp.

Ominis lets out a gasp of his own as he figures out exactly what Sebastian has pulled out of your bag.“Is that-“

“A friend.” Sebastian assures him, placing his hand back on Ominis’ shoulder before confirming Ominis’ thoughts. “A Hippogriff, she once introduced me to after class one day. It was… extraordinary.” There was a smile on Sebastian’s face as he looks at the beast, remembering how excited you were to introduce the two of you. He follows the steps and tells Ominis what to do, just like you showed him that day to gain the Hippogriff’s trust for a ride.

Sebastian helps Ominis up first before heading to you. He hesitates, but knows he must act quickly. Careful of your potentially still wounded arm and torso, he picks you up with an arm under your knees and another around your back. With Ominis’ help, he gets both you and him onto the Hippogriff. He readjusts you, letting you collapse on him as he holds you close to him with an arm around your waist, your head tucks into his neck. He can feel your faint breath on his skin and he can’t help but smile. You are still alive.

He is about to take off before realizing Ominis would surely fall off. “Put your arms around us.”

Ominis is taken back. “Absolutely not.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Do you want to fall off?” Ominis groans before muttering a ‘no’. “That’s what I thought. Now, put your arms around us and help me keep the two of you from falling off.”

Ominis does as he was told, knowing Sebastian was right, and regardless if he was, he would do anything to ensure you would stay as you were currently, almost on Sebastian’s lap. His grip is loose until suddenly with no warning, the hippogriff takes off.

Ominis is hanging on for dear life now.

The three of you and the Hippogriff barely clear the trees before a spell is cast in your direction. It whizzes right by Sebastian and Ominis’ heads, narrowly hitting them as the hippogriff speeds up, leaving the armies to disappear behind.

---

“We are never doing that again.” Ominis complains as he straightens his robes, happy to finally be on solid ground.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and as he opens your bag up to return the Hippogriff, but keeps his hold on you with Ominis’ help. “It wasn’t that bad. We made it back in one piece!”

Ominis wants to make a snappy comment back about how you three almost didn’t make it back in piece and how Sebastian almost lost his hold on you, but before he can get the words out, they remind him of your condition. The two of them rush to get you to the hospital wing, narrowly taking out a few first years along the way, but they managed. The nurse was just fixing a bed as the two boys push open the doors, holding you as steady as they can in their arms.

The nurse gasps at the sudden appearance but acts fast, letting them place you on the nearest bed that was available. Sebastian lays you on the bed, but he doesn’t let go of your hand as he grips it tightly, studying your face. The nurse cleans you up a bit and helps you beyond what a Wiggenweld potion could manage. Sebastian was beyond relieved to be able to gaze upon your face without focusing on the blood and tears.

“It’s good you gave her the potion when you did,” the nurse breaks Sebastian and Ominis’ thoughts, “much longer out there and well, I hate to imagine what could’ve happened.” She shakes her head.

Sebastian blinks back tears. “But she hasn’t woken.”

“And she might not for a while. Physically, she’s fine, her wounds are healing nicely, but she’ll have a nasty scar.” The nurse pauses, adding a few ingredients to a potion for you to take later.

Sebastian and Ominis wait for her to continue, but they grow restless. Sebastian finally tears his eyes away. “So? Why would it be a while?”

The nurse frowns. “Mentally, she’s exhausted. I don’t suppose either of you know how much sleep she’s gotten?”

The two boys hesitate before shaking their heads. “She would always fall asleep in the most random of places. In class, in Hogsmeade, towns, simply on the floor even. I’ve tripped over her numerous times.” Ominis says and Sebastian nods, suddenly feeling guilty for not ensuring you’ve gotten sleep.

“Yes, well,” the nurse hums, “perhaps rest is what she needs best. She can stay here for the night, but you two better hurry off before curfew starts.”

Ominis nods and reaches over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder with a small squeeze before he leaves, knowing Sebastian might want a few minutes alone with you. Sebastian can’t bear the thought of leaving you even if he could just visit in the morning. “Is it alright if I stay? Just for a few hours?”

The nurse eyes him carefully before sighing. “Just for a few hours.” She says and Sebastian nods. He hopes maybe a just a few hours turns into the whole night, and as the nurse places a pillow and blanket next to him, he might just get his wish.

When the nurse leaves the room, Sebastian realizes you two were the only ones here. He can’t help himself as he holds your hand tighter, bringing it to his lips with a soft kiss. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, knowing you’re only here because of him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sebastian?” Your voice is quiet, but he hears it nonetheless.

He straightens up, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his hand against your skin. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You shift in the bed, turning to face him but you barely open your eyes. “You’re here.” You repeat his words with the ghost of a smile and Sebastian feels his tears slipping down his face slowly. “Stay?”

He presses his lips against the back of your hand again before smiling. “With you? Of course. I’ll always stay with you.”

•

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should write more for hogwarts legacy or harry potter characters?

[pupyuj]

milan yujin looks so hot sexy and everything it drives my mind into an overide like SHE LOOKS SO MOMM- [GUNSHOTS] anyway ahem need to comPOSE myself before i actually go crazy she looks like shes gna step on me but....i mean just a thought but what if she wanted us to step on h- [ANOTHER GUNSHOT]

🪿🪿

varsity yuj, either way yuj, milan yuj, and love dive yuj are MY four horsemen of the apocalypse okay I DO NOT PLAY ABOUT THEM and milan yujin.......... i need her in so many ways....... anyways here's some food—

i know milan yuj is very mommy core yes BUT WALK WITH ME... her going to those events looking expensive and sexy but then coming home to you and immediately turns back into your cute, starry-eyed, lovesick puppy girlfriend?? in truth, these events only exhaust her... so she quickly melts into your arms when you caress her hair and tell her that did a good job... that's all she needs to hear to completely submit to you 🤭💞

fr moves like a puppy tho bcs as soon as you pamper her, yujin would be all over you! following you around, being so clingy, kissing you everywhere, never being able to take her hands off of you... see, on days like this, yujin would try to annoy you to get fucked roughly and blow off some steam but she wanted to be babied that day 🥺 cuddling to your side while you're both sat on the couch, hugging your arm against her chest and tugging you ever now and again bcs you were in a phone call with a friend and she hated it sm 💔 she missed you! you two were supposed to have quality time together!

"babe," yujinnie would whine :(( looking up at your with her glossy eyes and small pout, she's the cutest! "please?" and she suddenly has your only free hand on her boob?? but you were never one to be swayed easily so you’d ignore her… but then she’s sitting on your lap, hugging you and grinding on your thigh like a needy pup 🥺🥺 “please… i missed you so much.” she’d say in your ear and really that was all you’ll need to end the call and indulge in whatever yujinnie wanted 🥰

yujin loves to put on this cool and charming leader act to show everybody that she’s capable of being responsible and she is! but you like it better when she lets loose ☺️ ‘lets loose’ as in having her leader persona completely crumble as she rides your fingers desperately for hours on end 🤭 and ykw yujin’s annoying ass definitely calls you ‘mommy’ for shits and giggles on a normal, non-horny day but if she’s feeling needy enough you’ll pull a couple of those out of her while fucking her… and it sounds way too good in your ears that you wouldn’t want to stop until she’s a mess 😵‍💫

“mmhn..! m-mommy, more please… i love you, mommy…” she knows all the right things to say to rile you up 🤭🤭 yujin loves staring at you while you fuck her… loves that dark look in your eyes that only makes her more aroused that she should… and she’d take whatever you give her for however long you want her to! 🥺 not at all resisting or asking to stop bcs a thing she loves more than looking hot and in charge is being taken care of by her lovely gf 🤤

[separatist-apologist]

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Nesta Archeron had bread in the oven. 

It had been Cassian’s idea that morning. Why not check on the sourdough starter they’d been fermenting and try it in some bread? It was obvious he merely wanted to spend time with her in the kitchen and Nesta was hard pressed to think of a reason they shouldn’t. It was moody that morning—a thunderstorm had rolled through and showed no signs of relenting.

They were stuck inside and she’d reasoned it was better to do something rather than what they were usually doing.

And still, with twenty minutes left on the oven timer, Nesta found herself on her knees anyway, Cassian’s massive cock in her mouth. It started with a kiss that became two, became four, became Nesta up on the table while Cassian pressed himself between her legs. And then everything became frantic and desperate. She’d just managed to get his pants around his ankles first, but if she’d waited another thirty seconds, she’d be spread across the table.

Not for the first time, either.

She told herself just liked to watch him (a lie). Cassian was terrifying, a force to be reckoned with. He was an immovable object right up until Nesta was sliding her hands between his legs—and then he was as malleable as clay in her hands. Did he genuinely like her, she wondered? Or was she merely a distraction? 

There was only one way to find out. Nesta had been plotting for the same amount of time she’d been touching him to get her hands on his phone. Sitting next to him on the sofa the night before had revealed his passcode—0000—and now all she needed was to so thoroughly exhaust him, he wouldn’t notice her snooping through his messages.

She just wanted to know, once and for all. What was his plan for her? Had Rhysand instructed Cassian to kill her? And what of her sisters? Nesta told herself once she knew, she could better plan…but that didn’t account for her actions right then. Nor was it entirely true to act like this was merely all part of some brilliant scheme. Not when Cassian threw his head back, hand holding her jaw while Nesta struggled to take the rest of him into her throat.

“Fuck, Nes—just like that,” he panted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Nesta could feel the bulging vein just under the head of his cock, a tell-tale sign that he was about to come. She braced herself, eyes fluttering shut, just as Cassian grunted with pleasure and poured himself into her mouth. 

The timer went off at the exact same time, thwarting Cassian’s obvious plans to reciprocate his pleasure. That was both disappointing and for the best, she decided. The night before, Nesta had passed out with her cheek stuck to his chest and woke to bright sunlight and the smell of burning coffee. 

Not this time. This time, Nesta intended to wear Cassian out and stuff him full of food and let the Georgia heat do the rest. While she made her way to the oven, Cassian hastily pulled up his shorts.

“Is it wrong that I want to know every man you’ve ever practiced on?”

Nesta bent over the steaming oven to examine her sourdough. “What are you going to do, shoot them?”

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, elbowing her out of the way. His hands were clad in bright pink oven mitts and his dark hair was a tangled mess around his otherwise handsome face. It was the exact kind of logic a mobster would employ—she belongs to me, so I’ll pretend no one else has touched her.

Like a toddler hoarding toys at the playground, she thought wryly. She’d grown up in this life and had always rebelled at the idea that men owned their wives. And yet…yet, Cassian’s possessive nature wasn’t awful, either. Maybe because she knew the entire affair was time limited. Either he’d try to kill her or he’d be discovered by the actual feds and wind up in a prison cell.

So what did it hurt to enjoy herself for now? 

“Looks good. Want me to grab butter, or—”

“We should let it cool down,” Nesta said, eyeing his naked, tattooed chest. “Want to do some yoga with me before we eat?”

The look on his face screamed no even as Cassian smiled easily and said, “Sure thing, baby.”

What followed was torture for them both. It was already miserably humid and insufferably hot. Nesta wanted to claw herself out of the clingy fabric she wore and hoped none of it showed on her face. She was one with the world, serene and unbothered. The sun could not hurt her so long as she slathered a thick layer of sunscreen all over her body. She’d bullied Cassian into putting some on, too—a careful ruse to run her hands up and down the toned muscles of his body though he needed it, too. 

They practically crawled back into the cold air, with Nesta flinging open the freezer to stick her head inside while Cassian drank straight from the kitchen faucet.  

“You’re a masochist,” Cassian accused, eyes squeezed shut as replaced his mouth with his entire face beneath the stream of cold water. 

“I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Nesta said, taking some frozen, bagged broccoli out to place against her bare stomach. Cassian watched with open fascination, though he didn’t move to touch her. 

“No more outdoor workouts. Lets go to a gym like civilized people,” he breathed, rising to his full height. 

“The gym is unairconditioned—”

“Nesta, I can’t live this way,” he half pleaded, half joked. “I’ll put weights in the basement and run at two am.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip, thinking of the life Cassian was proposing. It was so easy to picture—and dangerous, too.

“I’m gonna shower, and then we’re going to eat some of this bread,” Cassian promised, pressing a quick kiss against her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You got it,” she lied, eyes snagging on his phone. It was exactly where he’d left it, tossed casually to the kitchen table along with all the mail she didn’t want to look at. Nesta waited unmoving, listening as the bathroom door clicked shut. A moment later the sound of water hitting the porcelain tub filled the silence. Nesta counted to ten before lunging, typing in the passcode.

There, pinned at the very top of his messages, was a group chat with no other descriptor than a bat emoji. She wondered the significance as she scanned the names.

Rhysand: I don’t care what you need to do—drag E back and lock her in a closet if you have to. 

Azriel: Easy for you to say while you’re playing house. She broke my fucking nose with that stupid bat—and she’s with a goddamn agent.

Cassian: How hard could it possibly be to keep track of one oblivious woman? 

Azriel: Eat shit. 

Rhysand: Are you tracking her? What does the agent know?

Azriel: He’s got family up in Appleton. Headed that way—as far as I know, they don’t know who I was. 

Rhysand: Take the agent out, no questions asked. Secure E through whatever measures necessary—do not kill her. 

Azriel: Wasn’t planning on it, but got it. 

Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest. E—that had to be Elain. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about Elain but now…fuck. A quick search of her phone told her Appleton was in Wisconsin. If Elain was headed that way, Nesta needed to find her and warn her. 

With shaking fingers, Nesta sent a text.

Cassian: Want help with a trace? Send me her number.

Please, please, please let them buy it, she prayed silently. Nesta’s heart was the loudest sound in the house, beating so violently she could barely hear the sound of Cassian’s shower over it. Her hands shook, holding his phone as she waited. The water cut off and Nesta was certain she’d been caught—Cassian would get the text later, realize what she’d done, and the entire thing would be blown.

Azriel: Sure. 555-201-9855. See if you can figure out where Vanserra is taking her. I’ll continue following behind. 

Cassian: Meet me in Chicago? I can help lure her home with Nesta.

Azriel: Will she cooperate?

Cassian: Got her eating out of the palm of my hand.

Azriel: See you soon. 

Nesta scribbled the number down on the back of an unopened bill before deleting the messages she’d sent. Nesta scrambled for her own phone, punching in the number to the sister she hadn’t spoken to in years. That ought to buy Elain some time, she reasoned, heart still pounding. Just enough for Nesta to get to her before anyone else did, anyway. 

Nesta: Elain? This is Nesta. Rhysand is after you—they’re tracking you. Hide and tell no one where you are until I can get closer. I’m on my way—we have to find Feyre. 

There. With that sent, and a clock ticking loudly in her head, Nesta all but ran to her bedroom and the gun she had hidden in her bedside table. Nesta had it in her hands, a small bag thrown together years ago slung over her shoulder, when she and Cassian met in the hall. His eyes dipped to the gun in her hand before he offered her a lopsided smile.

“Everything okay, Nes?” he asked, running a hand down his naked chest. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist was almost too small for him, accentuating the vee of his abdomen and the appendage hanging just between. 

“I know what you are,” she whispered, hating the waver in her voice. Cassian’s smile only widened. “I’ll shoot.”

“Put the gun down, baby,” Cassian murmured, his voice honeyed and sweet. “Let's talk about this.”

“I’ll kill you,” she warned, well aware that her words were a lie. She couldn’t—even knowing who he was and what he was capable of, Nesta knew she couldn’t kill him. 

Cassian advanced, unconcerned with the gun in her hand. She supposed he was used to seeing them, used to having them pointed directly at him. He was The Lord of Bloodshed, after all. That didn’t stop Nesta, who’d been going to the gun range long before feds ever dumped her in this swampy nowhere town. 

Kill him and be done with it.

“Then why were you on your knees this morning, Nes?” Cassian whispered, those hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “You had my cock in your mouth. I didn’t even have to ask.”

“What happens in the bedroom and what happens out here are two separate things, Cass,” was all Nesta could think to say in response. She really was sorry, in that regard. She knew he didn’t see it that way. 

Cassian shook his head, the loose ends of his wavy, dark hair brushing those muscular shoulders. “I’ll find you.”

“You’ll be dead,” she replied, willing the words to be true.

“You can’t kill me and we both know it,” Cassian told her. She hated that he was right, just like she knew that if she didn’t, he would hunt her down. This was personal, now—beyond the lies she’d told on her sister's behalf.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand had found them and Nesta needed to get to Elain before something horrible happened. Then they’d find Feyre and pray Rhysand hadn’t gotten to her first.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered before she pulled the trigger. Cassian howled, crumpling to the ground. He wasn’t dead—just wounded. She’d shot him in the leg. 

Nesta turned, knowing she only had minutes to put distance between them before Cassian rallied, caught her, and did god knows what to her. He looked enraged as she made her way toward the front door.

“This isn’t over between us, Nesta! I’ll have you back by the end of the week!” 

She grabbed the keys to his jeep and made her way outside, fingers shaking. Nesta tossed the gun to the passenger seat before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had the car out of the gravel drive before she pulled out her phone, texting people she knew better than to drag into this mess.

Gwyn and Emerie were waiting for her when she pulled up to Emerie’s place.

“Start from the beginning,” Emerie ordered the moment Nesta swung from the blue vehicle while Gwyn held a shotgun in both hands, eyes pinned on Nesta. It was an odd moment, telling her friends—who were like sisters in a different sort of way—everything that had transpired half a decade before.

Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t turn on her, though. Nesta didn’t know how she knew that, only that it was true. As Nesta drove, she told them everything they didn’t already know—starting from the beginning with the murder of their father. Nesta told them how she’d lied to the police for her sister, how it had been her idea to kill two birds with one stone and frame Rhysand. She hadn’t expected to be put in witness protection or she might have decided to take all the money their father had and flee the country instead.

One decision, made by a young, impulsive woman, had cost the three of them so much. Nesta couldn’t bring herself to regret anything that happened, a fact she told her friends while clenching her jaw. Let them see her, she supposed. Calculated and cold when necessary, and willing to make the hard decisions no one else would. Better they knew upfront than to find out later and decide they wanted nothing to do with her.

“So there’s a mobster after your sisters?” Gwyn confirmed, the shotgun now resting in her lap.

“Rhysand will kill Feyre if he finds her,” Nesta lamented, squeezing the steering wheel so violently her knuckles were bloodless. “I knew when Cassian came, but…I figured they hadn’t found her if he was still with me.”

“It sounds like they only have you and Elain,” Emerie reminded the pair, reasonably, sitting in the middle back seat so she could position herself between Nesta and Gwyn. “If we can get to Elain first, we could go to the police and tell them what we know.”

“Did you take his phone?” Gwyn asked.

Nesta sighed. “I didn’t.”

“That’s okay,” Gwyn reassured her, teal eyes hard with determination. “We’ll figure it out while we drive.”

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin,” Emerie added cheerfully. 

And that was that, Nesta supposed.

CASSIAN:

“What the fuck do you mean, Nesta Archeron shot you?”

Gritting his teeth, Cassian held a lighter over the wound in his thigh, having already poured alcohol in an attempt to sterilize it. He didn’t have time for a hospital nor the inclination to spend a night hooked up to machines while nurses fussed over him. 

“Don’t know how to make it anymore clear, boss,” Cassian snapped, his pain making him mean. “She fucking shot me, she knows who I am, and she’s on the run.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you and Azriel?” 

“Enough to fill a textbook probably,” Cassian mumbled, wincing as he rose to his feet. When he got her back he was going to teach her how to aim better. If she’d been going for his heart, she’d failed abysmally. Not that he wanted her to kill him, of course. Cassian wanted Nesta back in his bed even if he had to tie her up to get her there. 

“When Az and I are back together, we’ll have fewer problems.”

“You’ve got forty eight hours before to lock this whole thing down,” Rhysand warned. Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Practically, if Nesta and Elain slipped their leashes, they’d go straight to the cops and it would be hard to deny his involvement this time. At least where their father was concerned, Rhysand was actually innocent—one of the Archerons had killed their father. Cassian’s money was on Elain given her use of the bat against Azriel, though in truth it could have been any one of them. Nesta had a penchant for violence that rivaled her bastard father. 

But more realistically, Cassian simply wanted her, reason be damned. If she’d just come to him, he could have reassured her that no one wanted to hurt Elain. Hell, for all Cassian knew, Azriel was in love with her, too. It seemed to be their current curse, after all.

He’d been down fifteen minutes—long enough to give her a moderate head start but not so long Cassian couldn’t easily catch up with her. She’d need to make stops…and she’d taken his jeep. Cassian could track its progress as he slid into Nesta’s smaller coup, leg screaming in pain. At least she hadn’t shot his driving leg, he reasoned before swallowing an ungodly amount of ibuprofen. It would have to do.

The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for being under the influence. 

What Cassian really needed was sleep, preferably with Nesta curled up beside him. As he drove, his mind wandered to the sight of her flushed cheeks and shaking hands as she held that gun between them. Was it deranged, he thought, to admit he’d been turned out?

Would she use it in the bedroom, he wondered? 

God, he hoped she would. Cassian intended to ask her when he had her back. With the location of his jeep tracking on his phone, Cassian set his course and tried to keep his mind off his leg. Azriel was after Elain, but had promised to help Cassian if they caught up with each other, and it was clear Nesta was headed toward them both. It had been easy enough to guess what she’d sent Azriel and Azriel, frustrated with the situation, hadn’t bothered to ask himself why Cassian would offer to help track Elain’s technology.

As if he knew jack shit about that sort of thing. 

There was more than enough time to ruminate on his failures. While Rhys waxed poetic about moving Feyre without her figuring out the truth, Cassian focused on catching up with Nesta. He caught her just outside Bowling Green, Kentucky. She’d brought her friends with her—Gwyn, with her vibrant hair and a shotgun tossed casually in the passenger seat and Emerie, her dark hair pulled off her face in a messy ponytail and flip flops on her feet. They could have been on a road trip.

They weren’t. 

Cassian could have dragged Nesta back and killed her friends if he’d wanted to. Watching her outside a truckstop, he weighed the pros and cons of the killings before ultimately deciding against it. Nesta would never forgive him and Cassian didn’t like killing people without a reason. Gwyn and Emerie were innocent—it didn’t sit right with him to take their lives.

Besides—Cassian wanted to see what was going to happen next, Rhysand be damned. Everything was a mess already—if the FBI agent hadn’t already alerted his superiors, well, he would before Cassian crossed into another state. Rhys might come up with some lie that explained what they were doing, but Cassian doubted anyone would believe them.

Might as well enjoy himself.

And trailing Nesta was immensely enjoyable. He liked the way her mind worked. She was logical, picking the most expedient routes and when she stopped, it was always somewhere populated. Somewhere people could hear her scream. Cassian might have liked that, but practically, didn’t want to sit in a holding cell for twenty four hours waiting on a judge.

She’d have to stop eventually, and stop she did a day and a half later in Chicago.

Cassian knew Nesta and her friends were exhausted. They’d traded driving, but he very much doubted any of them were getting quality sleep. Neither was Cassian, truthfully, but he reasoned that he was better at keeping himself up, his instincts sharper.

Azriel was waiting for him when he arrived, his face a mask of sharp, cold fury. “Give up?” “I’m not getting fucking arrested,” Azriel snapped, hands jammed in his well-fitted jean pockets. “What are you doing?”

“Watching,” Cassian replied, nodding his head across the busy intersection where Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were standing. They hadn’t noticed him, laboring under the belief they’d lost him. 

“What happened to your leg?”

Cassian grimaced. “She shot me.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed as he ran a scarred hand through dark, mussed hair. “And she’s alive?”

“I’m bringing her home,” Cassian said, throwing a wink at his exasperated friend. “What’s Elain’s apartment like?”

“A death trap,” Azriel replied without emotion. “They can get in, but they can’t get out.”

“Where’s Morrigan?”

“Ahead of you,” Azriel muttered, whipping his phone out to make a call. It would be easier if they had a third person helping them, and unlike Azriel and Cassian, Mor was cold-blooded in a way that made even Rhys hesitate at times. Cassian watched from his spot behind a street cart selling tourist items as Nesta and her friends jogged toward the towering skyscraper and vanished inside.

Good girl.

Getting her out without causing a scene would be another thing entirely. It was a big city, he reasoned. He’d have Mor park right out front, flashers on, and just dump Nesta in the back before anyone could say anything. He doubted anyone would be racing to rescue her, besides. 

Mor arrived in tight jeans and a tank top, blonde hair pulled in a thick, deceptively messy ponytail. Cassian knew her well enough to know she labored over it, every wispy strand placed by Mor’s own immaculate hands. 

“What needs cleaned up?” she asked, flashing them both a perfect, white smile. 

“Upstairs,” Azriel muttered, beckoning for Mor to follow after him. She was Rhys’s second in command and even Cassian didn’t know everything she did for her cousin. Only that she was called in when shit went south. Things were so far south that they might have been at the equator. Could Mor drag the missing Archeron back, too? 

That was Azriel’s problem. All Cassian needed to worry about was Nesta. Trailing behind Mor, the three made their way into the immaculate lobby and Cassian was struck at the incredibly elegant life Elain Archeron appeared to have been living. While Nesta was holed up in rural Georgia, Elain got to live in screaming civilization. It irked Cassian, even as he recognized the solitude had served him well.

Azriel pushed the number thirteen, staring anywhere but at Mor, who was too busy examining her nails to notice how awkward things were. Cassian said nothing because it was none of his business. Something must have happened, though—Azriel wasn’t standing too close, wasn’t shooting furtive glances. And Mor wasn’t using Cassian as a shield like she often did. 

Had they talked, then?

Cassian didn’t ask. Instead, he followed Azriel down a blue carpeted hall that smelled like someone's two day old cooking. Azriel pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door to find a shotgun waiting for him.

“Not another step, pretty boy,” Gwyn said in that southern drawl of hers.

Behind Az, Mor rolled her eyes.

“You think I’m pretty?” Azriel asked casually, unconcerned with the danger he was in. 

“That ain’t a compliment,” Gwyn snapped.

“Sounded like one to me,” Azriel replied smoothly. Cassian and Mor exchanged a glance. Since when did Az engage in witty repartee? “What else do you like?”

“Shut up,” Gwyn ordered, but it was too late. Azriel had the upper hand and they all knew it. With the speed of a man used to being threatened, he wrenched the barrel of the shotgun out of her hands and yanked, pulling both the weapon and the woman into his waiting arms. Gwyn yelped, arms pinned to her side as Az tossed the gun behind him for Mor to pick up.

“Quickly,” she ordered as Cassian swept in. Az hadn’t lied—Elain’s apartment was turned upside down, furniture shoved against the walls for his little traps and cameras. Nesta and Emerie had clearly walked right into one, legs tied to the floor in some contraption that shouldn’t have fascinated him as much as it did.

“Hey, Nes,” he said with a grin.

“Fuck you,” she replied, sweet as ever. 

“Are you gonna come with me nicely? Or am I going to have to carry you out?”

“Don’t you touch me,” she warned, answering Cassian’s question all the same. Just beside him, Mor was pulling rags from her bag like they were mints, handing one to Cassian before making her way toward the flailing, fighting Gwyn. Cassian let Nesta watch Mor smush the rag over Gwyn’s face so she knew what was waiting for her.

What he’d do if she didn’t agree to come like his good little girl. 

Gwyn went limp against Azriel, who merely scooped her up like she was nothing. 

“What do you want to do with the two of them?” Mor asked Cassian, eyes finding a silent, but furious looking Emerie. God—this plan was so off the rails it was almost embarrassing. There was only one thing they could do.

“Take them home,” he said. 

“Their home? Or our home?” Mor clarified.

“Ours, for now.” Cassian turned back to Nesta. 

“Cass,” she tried, the pretty little liar. “You don’t understand. My sisters, they—” “It’s too late for them,” he said. He wasn’t even a lie. “Rhys has Feyre and Elain is on her way back home. The only hold up is you.”

She shook her head. Nesta was smart not to believe him, even if it irked him deeply. Cassian made his way toward her, trapped by Azriel and unable to do anything but watch. 

And slap. The moment he crouched in front of her, Nesta slapped him hard. Her nails raked down his cheek, wounding him just enough to rankle him. He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he replied with some regret. 

“Make a decision, Cass,” Mor said as she leaned beside Emerie. Emerie didn’t hit, grimacing as Mor brought that rag to her face. “I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a cunt,” Emerie hissed at Mor, who only grinned back.

“I’ve been called worse.”

Mor held the rag to Emerie’s face as Nesta watched, face pale and eyes wide. “Cass,” she whispered. 

“Come with me,” he urged, knowing she wouldn’t. Nesta couldn’t. She’d fight him until she decided this was her decision, and then she’d likely fight him a little more. The rest of his life would be a fight—and Cassian wanted it. 

“It’s time to go home, baby,” Cassian murmured, pressing a kiss to Nesta’s temple as she tried to wrench away. Putting the rag over her face felt like a betrayal and Cassian had to remind himself that she’d shot him not two days earlier. Mouth to the shell of her ear, he murmured, “We’re even now.”

Hardly, though. Cassian hadn’t held it against her to begin with. Nesta never took her eyes off him, holding her breath until she couldn’t, only to suck in a gasp of poisoned air. It went faster after that, leaving her limp in his arms as Mor undid the traps. 

“You’re a bastard for these,” Mor said, looking down at Emerie with an expression Cassian couldn’t quite place. 

Azriel onlys shrugged, still holding Gwyn in his arms. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Come on,” Cassian interrupted, not interested in another argument between the pair. “I’m fucking tired and I want to go home.”

Cassian’s leg was killing him, he was bone weary, and a little afraid of what was coming for him. Either the US government or Rhys—and Cassian didn’t know which scared him more. For now, Cassian was resolved to get her home and hope that Feyre wasn’t far behind.

Elain was already lost. There was no getting her back. The best they could hope for was utter silence as Rhys hunted them down, killed the agent hiding her, and brought her into the fold, too.

But it would take time and right now they were nearly out of it. 

And it was time to go home.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday. I didn't have to change this because apparently the last time I updated was also a Wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You look in the mirror, the steam receding to the frame. You look tired. You feel it. 

You put away the bottles you used for your bath and try some of the brown sugar moisturizer, hoping it might ease the dry spots left from the friction of your pillow. You cap it and place it in the basket with the rest.

You hang your towel on the rack and flip back the silver tab of the lock. You come out into the hall and nearly trip on your own toes. Andy stands casually against the wall, a dark blue towel folded over one arm, his phone in his other hand as he looks at you over the top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope… hope I didn't take too long…"

"Nah, haven't been waiting long," he smiles and scratches his beard, a few tufts out of place as you hear the coarse graze of his fingertips, "sleep okay?"

You lie, "yes…You?"

"God knows I tried," he shrugs as he stands straight, "pretty shaken by the cops swinging by, you know?"

"Uh, sure," you tuck your lip under your teeth, "sorry–"

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," he waves you off and taps his thumb on the side button of his phone, crossing his arms, a gesture that emphasizes his size. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something before I start the day."

"Oh?" Your brows squiggle together. What have you done wrong now?

"Did you wanna come to the library? I figured if you need to put together a resume for your application I could get together a few resources. It'd be a quiet place to work." He looks almost nervous as you watch his hand squeeze his phone tighter, knuckles white, "we could get some tea down at the cafe, maybe some lunch?"

You consider him and his request. It isn't a bad idea. You don't know where to start with a resume. You only imagine a blank piece of paper, as empty as your life. You try to smile, your cheeks dimpling painfully.

"Okay," you agree. 

You don't know you have the courage to say no. It is his house and it's a thoughtful idea. Amber always said you should get out when you feel grey… Amber…

"I'll go get my tablet," you say to chase away your sadness, "thanks, Andy."

"No problem," he takes a breath, relief uncoiling the tension from him. Had he really been so anxious? "You're the one doing me a favour, so thank you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I won't complain for the company and it'll give me something to look forward to," he moves towards the bathroom door as you sidle out of his way. His hand seems to float over your shoulder just before you elude it. Instead he presses it to the door. "I'll try to hurry."

🕊️

It feels almost surreal to be back at the library. It's a reminder of everything that's happened. All that's changed.

Andy brings you in with him as he opens. You stand at the counter and watch him. He does everything with graceful certainty. It makes you insecure, there's nothing you know how to do so effortlessly.

When the library opens, it remains quiet. Andy gathers a few books for reference and you take them to the basement, wary of getting in his way as the first patrons arrive. You're much more comfortable in the isolated underground. 

You claim your usual spot and prop your tablet up in its case sideways. You open a book and delve into the basic formatting of a resume. You type your name at the top but the next line stumps you. Address? What do you put? Andy's? You don't even know it.

You skip that and put your email. Phone number? Yeah, not that either.

You work slowly. Your frustration mounts as you distract yourself with making neat margins and inserting lines over inputting any information. You have nothing to add. No skills, no experience, no value. 

You put your head in your hands and take a deep breath. You're overwhelmed by this simple task. How can you expect to have a job? Like Andy and Amber and everyone else. Everything that is so easy for them is almost impossible for you. You are dumb and worthless.

You stay like that for a while, staring at the table, fighting back tears. What are you going to tell Andy? That you're a loser. That all those expectations he has, you can't meet. Maybe you deserve everything you get, maybe Amber didn't deserve the blight of your existence.

"You're here," her voice draws your head up, as if you summoned her with your thoughts.

You blink, not believing she's real. Amber rushes forward and you sit back, staring wide eyed, terrified at her. She winces and stays on the other side of the table.

"What… why are you looking at me like that?" She clasps her hands together, "please, just listen, please," she pulls out the chair and sits, stretching and arm across the table, "I'm not here to argue–"

"How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, I know you. I'm your sister."

You fold your arms, shrinking down, brow furrowing, heart sinking. Why is she doing this? She's only her to make you feel worse.

"I'm not here to argue, alright? I just want you to hear me."

"You called the police," you accuse.

"You left in the middle of the night," she hisses, "what was I supposed to do? I was scared."

"And so was I," you snap back. "I'm fine…" you look down and spread your hands over the pages, pushing the book flat, "I'm going to get a job."

She pauses and looks down at the book. She leans in and nods.

"That's great," she forces out stuntedly, "I can help if–"

"No," you shake your head.

She sits back and sighs, "what did I do?" 

"I told you. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't, bubba."

"Bubba?! You talk to me like I am."

She seals her lips and swallows your word with another nod. She puts her hands on the table, as if steadying herself.

"Right, I'm not going to talk to you like a child. I'm just going to say what I came to say and you can choose to hear me or not." She takes a breath and sets her jaw, "that man does not want to help you. You can't see it but he doesn't want what's best for you, I do.

"I know you've made your choice but it's the wrong one. I can't change your mind, police said they won't bring you back, but I can at least try to talk some sense into you. You do what you want, be the adult you claim to be, but at the end of the day, you're my sister and you always will be.

"Bubba, if this all goes wrong, when it does, I will be waiting. My door is open. Today, tomorrow, in a week, a year, whenever you need me–"

She shudders as her eyes glisten and she puts her palm to her chest, "please just think about what you're doing."

You drop your chin. Your heart clenches. Amber always sounds right. She's always been there but you just can't go back. It feels cowardly to change your mind just because you have to do things for yourself. 

And you just don't believe her. You want to so bad but you see what she's doing. Andy showed you what to look for; she's playing the victim. She hurt you, you didn't hurt her. She couldn't handle you being out of control and now she's panicking.

"Bub…" she utters. You just stare at your lap. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll bring you whatever you want–"

"Hoovering," you whisper, tilting your head up slightly at Amber's confused hum, "it's when a narcissist tries to win back someone they lost. Through spontaneous contact and making empty promises…"

"Bubba, how– I wouldn’t do that."

"I thought you wouldn't… before."

She lingers for a moment. She stands slowly and fixes her purse on her shoulder. She looms over the table and lets out a shallow breath that sounds like a sob.

"You know I'll pick up the phone. I'll be there…" she drags her fingers across the table, "whenever you need me."

She hesitates before she turns to leave. You hear her gulping as she steps between the shelves and steps shuffle out from the staircase.

"Hey, what are you–" Andy's accusation fills the silence, "dove! Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Amber growls, "and don't touch me." You look up as she shoves away his hand on her arm, "I'm leaving…" her voice is sticky with repressed grief, "she won't listen. Are you happy you fucking monster?"

He squares his shoulders and looks at her, glares down his nose, "I'm helping her. Something you never did."

"Fuck yourself. If you hurt her, I will–"

"That won't work. You're not going to stand here and scare her," he snarls, "so go."

They lock in a staredown before Amber elbows past him, marching to the stairs and stopping to look back down at the aisle. You sink down and cover your face. You feel a pit swallowing up. This shouldn't be so hard. None of it. Writing this damn resume or living your own life. It's so hard.

🕊️

You sit in the cafe, watching the street through the window from your seat in the corner. You feel as if you're outside your own body, like you're floating over the pedestrians, watching from some secret tower. You close your eyes and see the blank document etched into your retinas. 

The clink of a dish brings your head up. You sit back, limp and barely able to support your own weight. You just feel empty.

Andy sets down a sandwich before you, beside the steaming tea you hadn't touched. He gives a sheepish smile as your eyes bore past him. He sits and places a napkin beside you plate.

Neither the sight or scent of food can stir your appetite. You can't even remember the last time you ate. Last night you pushed around the casserole noodles until he stopped paying attention.

"Looks good," he says as he reaches for his foamy coffee. "I grabbed a little surprise for dessert tonight," he says as he sets his cup down and pats his jacket pocket.

You nod and clear your throat. The simple act hurts.

"Thank you," you force out.

"Well," he hovers his hand over his plate, "dig in. It looks delicious and I'm sure you're starving."

"Uh, sure," you drone and consider the thick sandwich; a croissant stacked with turkey and swiss, a leaf of lettuce and slice of tomato peeking out.

You grab your cup instead and take a swig. You hum, "I didn't even try my tea," you distract him, "how's your coffee?"

"Good, mocha usually isn't my thing but not bad. Gotta try new things, right, dove?"

"Mhmm," you peel away the edge of the lettuce and make yourself nibble it. It tastes awful. Everything is terrible.

"Been a good day, so far, not too busy," he carries on, "how's the resume coming?"

You shrug, "not done…"

He clucks and nods, letting out a long breath. He leans forward and picks up his ham and cheddar on rye. He takes a bite as you tear away some of the croissant and pretend to chew on the end.

"So… guess we should talk," he swallows, "about your sister."

"I don't want to," you whine, "please–"

"I need to know what she said, honey. To protect you. Like last night, hm? When she sent the cops after you like some criminal."

"She was only worried," you rebuff.

"About herself. About making herself feel better by standing on your back," he puts and elbow on the table, lowering his brow in a serious way, "I tell you every day you can do anything, and what did she ever do but tell you not to even try."

You frown. Your heart is in pieces. You don't want to be here. You don't want to be anywhere.

"I'll keep working on my resume," you say, "I'll be done it soon."

He huffs and sniffs at his sandwich before taking another bite. He is silent as he swallows, his gaze weighing on you.

"We can get a box if you wanna take that back with you. No eating in the stacks but just don't let anyone see."

"Thank you, Andy," you say, "I'll be hungry later for sure."

"Mhmm," he taps his foot under the table, letting the silence hang.

You cross your arms and sit back, looking past him to the street again. You wish you had somewhere to be with a briefcase, or were running to catch a bus, you wish you had any purpose but to be a burden.

🕊️

You put the casserole in as Andy mutters to himself and flips through the channels. He says there's some ball game on. You're happy he at least had something to fill the void of your conversations.

You wait in the kitchen. You watch the timer countdown and when it dings you take out the pan. You set it on the counter and scoop out a healthy helping into a plate. You take a fork and knife and rest it on the rim, going to stand in the archway that looks into the front room.

"Do you wanna eat here or at the table?"

Andy looks over, his arm stretched over the back cushion of the grey couch.

"I'll come eat with you," he volunteers as he sits forward.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to lay down… I have a headache."

"A headache? I have advil," his forehead creases with concern.

"Already took something. I think it's going to rain…"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I… was looking forward to eating together."

"It's okay. Tomorrow," you promise, "please, enjoy and watch your game."

His mouth slants as you approach and put the plate on the coffee table. You feel uneven and wobbly. You just want to sleep until you can't wake up.

"I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow," you step back and hide a yawn behind your hand.

"I hope so," he says, "I'll check on you before I turn in. Just to make sure you're okay."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he insists, "you know where to find me if you need anything.'

You slowly back away. You turn and drag your feet to the door. You don't need anything but to be alone.

[kimchitsu17]

no strings attached | armin arlert

a/n:this is my first ever piece,please be gentle with me 🙏🏾

his head rests in your shoulder.rapid short breaths leaving him after his high.

"I'm sorry,I couldn't help it" he pants as he nuzzles further into your neck.Your fingertips meander gently through his soft golden locks,a comfort for the war torn soldier."it's okay,I was up for it anyway",you sigh.

his bare torso rests atop of yours,legs tangled together in the soft linen sheets and his fingers trace mindless patterns into your waist.the sun is about to rise and he wants to savour as much of your warmth as he can before he has to leave you again.if it was up to him, he'd stay locked up in your quarters with you for all his days but a commander can only dream.

he can't call what you have with him a relationship,not really since he can't show you off to the world like he wants to.he cant hold your hand or kiss your cheek around your comrades.in this crippled military camp you call a home,you cant afford the luxury of having such a precious thing.all energy must go to the war effort.to rescue Eren.not to mention both of you can die at any moment.having incurred so much grief over the years,itd be best not to form any more ties that could be severed in an instant by the titans.so he settles for this little haven.

With a kiss to his forehead you whisper, "I have patrol in the morning with Jean".his hands tighten around your waist and an agitated groan leaves him as soon as you say those words.you can feel his pout against your neck.Mornings are always the hardest for the both of you."You need to go now or we're gonna get caught you know" you peek at him,a smile stretching over your face.

He lazily lifts his face from your neck to look at you directly.A long silence ensues between you then as he just stares at your face.hes always been one to stare and its never awkward or weird.its never like that with him.youve concluded that he just enjoys watching you.likes seeing you light up at Sasha and Connie's jokes.Likes seeing you puzzled over battle strategies with Levi.Likes seeing tears roll down your cheeks when he make you come for the third time in a row at night,grinning at your exhausted and too blissed out frame.(he'll never admit the last one to you but you've caught on to how his baby blues dance every time youre on the verge of crying when he pleasures you)

right now though he's trying to soak up all your features before he has to go.he starts with your eyes,marveling over the sunlight glinting against your dark irises.he loves how your lashes frame over them making you all the more beautiful.he drinks you in from your unruly black hair,your warm supple dark skin to your pink two-toned lips, undoubtedly his favourite body part of yours.

God how he loves your face.God how he loves you.He wishes he could tell you that,but he knows what you agreed upon.No strings attached.That was the very first rule of your agreement.You made it clear to him that you're just two good friends trying to blow off some steam on a war ridden island but he could never reduce what you two have to something so minor.

he sees the way you hold his gaze when you talk about all the things you want to do when the war is over.as if you're hoping he'll be there to do all those things with you.(he desperately wants to be there with you too).after all youve already promised him a trip to the sea anyways.

the way you get absolutely drunk over his kisses is too obvious to miss.what starts off as a few sweet pecks turns into a full blown out makeout session.how you grind into his lap and pull him closer to your already flush bodies makes him see stars.your sweet sighs that enter his mouth,his name loose on your lips,too blissed out on his touch to think of anything else and his hands roaming anywhere you let him."just friends" don't do that.And he cant mistake how you scour frantically for his frame after every battle for anything else but affection.You worry for him.You love him.He knows you love him.Youre just too scared to admit that and he doesn't want to destroy what he has with you.so he'll adhere to your wishes of "just being friends"...for now.

He's the first to break the silence with a sly smirk on his face."I love what you did with your hair.Who styled it for you?".Without a second to waste,he swiftly pecks your lips and rises from the bed before you can flick his forehead.

He knows your smile has already gone flat from his jest as he crouches to the floor for his scattered clothes.Both of you know damn well your hair looks like it got hit by a thunderstorm because of all the ungodly activities he partook with you last night,in addition to what he just did a few minutes ago.

"Good morning to you too Commander".he snickers at your blatant "not welcoming your bullshit" tone, shrugging his crumpled shirt on. "come on now y/n were way past using titles now and you know i always think you look pretty"

You roll your eyes at that statement,equally getting dressed for the morning.you decide it best to hit the washrooms later with the small amount of time that's left.

You've both gotten so used to this routine of yours.sneaking around into each others rooms in the dead of night.blaming your training regimen for sore limbs and fatigue when the other soldiers ask why you're both so tired in the morning.chalking up questionable excuses for the gross amounts of time the two of you spend during the week whenever anyone asks about it.

you know you both can't keep this up forever.soon enough the arms of war are going to incinerate the little haven you've created.but for the time being you decide to ignore fate.kiss him goodbye.let him remind you it's your turn tonight to come over at his.and settle for stolen glances throughout the day until the cover of night when you can embrace him once again.

~Fin~

[jace-writes-about-things]

A Conjured Bed

Alexa play Hot In Here! Yes, we finally have some smut! Bare with me please because this is the first piece of smut that I have written in a LONG time, I've tried to do this man justice but please if you feel like I haven't tell me! Pointers are always accepted, anyways please accept horny Gale <3

After stumbling across Gale’s apparent mentor, Elminster who had not only forced his way into camp but had come baring a mission from Mystra, a mission that she demanded Gale to basically kill himself to destroy the Absolute, needless to say Tav was seething with rage which considering Halsin had informed their party that he needed assistance protecting a portal from attacking forces so that he could retrieve Thaniel, Tav was more than happy to cut down some enemies in the name of blowing off some steam. Meant at least she would lodge her longsword in the heads of some bad guys instead of misplacing her weapon in the next innocent that annoyed her, or worse one of her campmates.

After a long battle of seemingly endless shadow monsters and undead being thrown at the party left, right and centre Halsin emerged from his barely standing portal clutching a small child in his arms, this must have been Thaniel the poor child looked exhausted, Tav quickly urged Halsin back to camp before taking a moment to assess the damage everyone had sustained during the rather strenuous fight. Glancing sideways she noticed a hungry look in Gale’s eyes pointed directly at her, the stares meaning going directly over Tav’s head she approached Gale with concern, “Gale? Are you all right do you need an artifact? Has Elminster’s magic on you failed?” Confusing his hunger for her with his hunger for magical items Gale seemed to redden in colour at the misinterpretation, “No, it’s just, it’s quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side.” He seemed to pause, considering his next words carefully, “I once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.”

“Have you ever read anything on that subject?” Tav couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the big bad barbarian reduced to, silence, stunned with what he was propositioning her with in front of everyone no less… “You’re attracted to me… in a place like this?” She wanted to flirt back but given their audience she was hesitant, “I can’t imagine anywhere that would turn my heart away from you, cursed or otherwise. You’d always be as beautiful, and as impressive.”

“Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking. But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair. It only makes me want you more.” Tav was ready to jump his bones right there and then, again given if they hadn’t had an audience, she would have let him take her right there and then below the Last Light Inn safe haven, but her hooded eyes must have given her dirty intentions away as Gale simply smirked and shut down every thought racing through her mind.

“Unfortunately, this is neither the time nor place to indulge such feelings. So, we must be patient and push all such thoughts aside. For now.” With a wink and a smirk, he set off to gather any useful supplies from the bodies the party had surrounded themselves in, the wind knocked out of Tav’s lungs as she stood in disbelief, this wizard had stood and confessed the dirty things he wished to do to her and just walked off like she wasn’t standing there dumbfounded with wet panties, a pitied pat on her back from Karlach and a “No luck soldier” thrown her way brought her crashing back to reality, shaking off the daze he had thrown her into Tav quickly gathered herself and assisted the party in ransacking bodies for valuables.

Only after they had assisted Shadowheart in abandoning Shar and freeing the Nightsong did anything from that night of battle come to fruition. Returning to camp after freeing the Nightsong Tav found a mirror image of Gale standing in his tent where the real Gale should have been, given instructions by the rather goofy mirror image was she transported to a clearing in some woods and there in front of her he sat, staring up to the stars on his blanket he had spread out for the both of them to rest on. All the thoughts of that night came rushing back to Tav in an instant her body and mind remembering all the things she wanted to do to that man that night as he had stood dangling the prospect of a night of passion in front of her face. Turning round to look at who had joined him his smile set her core ablaze. She knew he wished to speak to her of his given mission from Mystra but all she simply wanted to do was spend a night under the stars with this man, this man who ignited such passion within her.

“I love this time of night.” Came his simple greeting as she allowed herself to sink to the floor beside him, “There’s almost a reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity.” Tav listened to the man’s poetry as he shifted his hand towards the sky, as if he himself was commanding the very stars himself she found herself staring at the beauty above her, unaware of Gale’s loving gaze, “The timelessness of lovers. The most beautiful of fantasies.” She was lost in his words, listening to this man seduce her with utter poetry made her melt, desperate to be consumed with him. As they spoke of his mission from Mystra, Tav noticed Gale becoming consumed by his need to flaunt his magic talents offering a night amongst the stars with her, but Tav was not swayed, she simply wanted this man in the most carnal, human way possible.

Standing, Tav dragged him to his feet willing to show her commitment to the moral man that the hunger inside her from that night had reignited full force, gazing at him with hooded eyes she slowly slunk to her knee’s gentle touches down his legs on her way down. Gazing up at him revealed just how touch starved Gale was, his fists clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from the true desire he craved, with a smile she gave him her full permission, “Don’t be afraid Gale, I won’t break, use me as you please.” With a swift hand grabbing her hair to force her back to her feet and his lips crashing into hers in a desperate kiss she paced backwards at his command, finding the backs of her legs hitting a soft bed.

Allowing herself to fall backwards out of his grasp, she fell backwards onto a rather soft, cushioned bed, gazing up at him taking in his dishevelled appearance, the usual put together wizard was panting, looking down at her with raw desire in his eyes that tried to convey every single way he wanted to take her, she definitely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Kneeling between her legs, his hands slowly trailing their way up to the waistband of her sleep clothes, looking to her with a plea, begging to let him remove the barrier and let him have his way with her. Her own hands shifting down to help him shimmy her trousers and underclothes down with them, his soft hands returning to her hips to caress her hips, “You are more beautiful than any skyline my hands could ever conjure.” Readying herself to reply to his compliments Tav was swiftly cut off with a kiss to her mound, her hips reaching up to meet him but a surprisingly strong arm clamping over her hips to prevent their movement fixed her to the bed below. His comments of a practised tongue came flashing back to her mind as he carefully took her clit into his mouth, laving it with all the attention she desired moaning into the night as her hands found their way into his hair threatening to rip the locks from his hair if he even dared thinking of stopping, her hips fought against him as he brought her closer and closer to her peak, and just before she got there he pressed a soft kiss to her mound and pulled away as much as her tight grip would allow him to.

“I’m sorry love, I know you don’t want me to stop but the only place you’ll be coming tonight is around my cock.” He was almost staring into her soul as he looked up, his beard drenched in her juices and all she wanted in that moment was to kiss him, let her taste herself on his lips.

Making his way up her body, gentle kisses and touches as he went, feeling his way along her hips, up her sides, to her breasts, committing her entire body to his memory before arriving at her lips, teasing him tongue at her entrance allowing her the opportunity to pull away if she found this uncomfortable in any way, but his doubts were quickly squashed with her lips connecting with his, drinking in her taste on his lips allowing herself to taste herself on his tongue. “Please Gale.” She pulled away, begging for the release she craved, release only he could give her.

Giving her a soft parting peck he knelt above her, removing his own clothing making a bit of a show of it with each piece of removed clothing, letting her hands roam his body to discover all parts of him, everything. Leaning back down he gently kissed her body before guiding himself to her entrance, holding eye contact as he gently slid in, allowing himself to moan out as he bottomed out, stilling inside of her finally slipping inside of her felt like absolute heaven and it took all of his willpower to not cum there and then. “You feel absolutely divine my love, you feel absolutely amazing.” He moaned into her mouth, kissing her softly she felt like putty in his hands, “Gale please I need you to move.” The words were gasped out as he began thrusting, like he had knocked the wind out her lungs with the force, her once words were reduced to moans and gasps, grasping onto his shoulders clawing at skin at the overwhelming pleasure.

Although she had had a number of fantasies and dreams about this moment, but nothing she had dreamed or fantasised could compare to being here with Gale, letting herself be consumed with the overwhelming feeling of Gale. He was all encompassing, he was everywhere all at once, in front of her, surrounding her, inside her, grasping at his shoulders trying to take him in deeper to become one with him, “I’m not going to last much longer love.” Gale gasped out as his hand reached down to circle her clit, suddenly it was stars surrounding her, not so dissimilar to the stars he had conjured for her, stars and then blinding white with gasp Tav let go, let herself be all consumed.

Back to reality, a sweaty and sated Gale lay atop her holding him closer as she ran her hands along his spine, helping to bring the man down from his high. Gentle breathing and soft kisses to her chest, she gazed down at him as he looked up at her with nothing but love in his eyes, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” His hand reaching up to stroke her face, she could do nothing but smile at this man and his genuine love for her, such as soft man that she felt nothing but the utmost love for.

“Hope you know, we aren’t done just yet.” His smirk returned as he slid himself down, ready to continue their escapades into the wee hours of the morning, Tav definitely was not getting any sleep tonight.

Cross Posted on Ao3 - jacethed00d