#but if i waited until it was already out then i would probably be tempted to include it on this list (if it ends up being good)

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[dustofthedailylife]

"General, This Ain't A Cat"

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Jing Yuan x (gn!) Reader

Summary: One day you find a cute white lion cub scratching on your front door, little did you know that the actual owner of it was Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou Luofu himself. And he might have the wrong idea about the little thing, too...

Tags: Fluff, Crack, Jing Yuan's Lion loves you, inspired by the General's Diary you can find in HSR, flustered Jing Yuan

A/N: I love him a very normal amount, your honor! The fact he is a cat dad too is just too cute! And also that he got scammed trying to buy a cat and instead unknowingly managed to buy a lion makes it so much funnier. I can only recommend reading his diary ingame lmao

A distinct scratching sound on the front door of your home made you perk up in your seat. You waited for the sound to reappear a couple of times before deciding to check what was causing it.

You slowly opened the door and looked outside. But both to the right and to the left you spotted nothing that could’ve caused the sound. It was also relatively windstill on the Luofu today so that also couldn’t have been it.

Just as you were about to close the door again you spotted the culprit behind the flower pot right next to your door. It was a small, snow-white lion cub, not older than a couple of months at best, and it looked at you pleadingly with its azure-colored eyes.

Did it want to come in?

You knelt down on your doorstep and stretched your hand out towards it, prompting it to come over to you. It hesitantly tiptoed in your direction from behind the flower pot, carefully smelling on your fingers first before bumping its head into your hand. You began scratching its head and not too long after a loud purr could be heard.

It was such a cute little thing you were almost tempted to snatch it and keep it. But a beautiful animal like that had to belong to someone, right?

You picked the soft bundle of fur up and walked towards the main road to look around. Maybe it ran away and the owner was still around looking for it? They had to be since you never heard of any instances of strays on the Luofu.

A little bit further down the street, you spotted two Cloud Knights with a bag of treats in their hand. They were eagerly shaking them to make rattling sounds and simultaneously scanned the ground for something. Looks like they are the people the little cutie belonged to.

"Hey," you called out to them. "Are you looking for this snow lion perhaps?"

"Oh, thank the Heavens!" One of the guards exclaimed. "We've been looking for it the entire day already.”

One of the guards stretched out their arms to take the little lion cub into his arms but it made no fuss to go anywhere. In fact, it was clinging to you and started purring loudly, bumping its head into your chest.

“Hey, you little cutie. You have to get back home. I’m sure you’re hungry by now, aren’t you? Enough adventure for one day.” You said in a higher-pitched voice. Its eyes almost looked sad and it let out a squeak the moment you handed it back to the soldiers and waved them goodbye.

As soon as you were back home you couldn’t help but think about the little lion again. It was the first time you had ever seen one with such a majestic fur and eye color. Whoever it belonged to could surely count themself lucky. 

A couple of days passed and you went about your days as normal until you heard the familiar scratching at your front door again. 

Unlike the first time you immediately knew it must be the same lion from a few days prior. You went to open the door again and the white bundle of fur immediately zoomed inside of your home.

Alerted, you immediately began chasing it around your living room. As much as you wanted to actually keep it as well, you absolutely couldn’t. Someone was waiting for it and probably worried about its disappearance once again. You for sure would turn the Luofu upside down if it was your missing pet.

Snatching the little complaining bundle of fur up again proved difficult as it was clinging and clawing at your carpet for dear life, but you eventually managed.

Carrying it outside once again you looked for Cloud Knights you could return it to again but this time a blonde teen boy, dressed in blue and no older than maybe fourteen was walking down the street with treats this time. And for some reason, he seemed oddly familiar.

“Mimi? Miiiii-Miiiii. Come get your treats!!” The blonde boy shouted and shook the treat box in his hands like a rattle.

The little lion cub, apparently named Mimi, perked its ears up in your arms and began trying to wriggle out of your grasp. You let it jump down and watched it zoom in the direction of the boy, sitting down and looking up at him with hungry and expectant eyes.

“There you are, you little troublemaker!” He says furrowing his brows and throwing Mimi a handful of treats.

Going off of the way the lion reacted to his voice you assumed it was probably his pet lion.

He picked it up and started petting it, eliciting it to close its eyes, start purring and relax in his arms. The boy smiled at it fondly and slightly shook his head in disbelief over the little rascal before looking down the street to where you were standing.

“Hey, you!” He shouted and started trotting in your direction. “Were you the one who found Mimi?”

You nodded in response before wondering how he could’ve figured that out considering he didn’t see you with Mimi at all.

“Wait how did you-?” You inquired with furrowed brows.

He just pointed at your chest, or more specifically, at your shirt in reply. Following the direction of his finger with your gaze you soon realized that you were entirely covered in white fluff from when you were holding Mimi.

“Ah. Well of course. That makes sense,” you chuckled. “Does it run away a lot?” You asked pointing at the still happily purring snow lion in the blonde boy’s arms.

He simply rolled his eyes and smiled in reply. “All the time.”

“Well, it seems to be fond of my front door as of late. I live just a bit further down the street. So chances are if it runs away again, it might be near my house again.”

“Good to know. Certainly makes things easier,” he nodded. “I’m Yanqing, by the way!”

That’s why he seemed so familiar. He is the lieutenant of the Luofu Cloud Knights and you had seen him here and there in an official capacity but you generally didn’t pay too much attention to those so you couldn’t quite put your finger on it earlier.

It certainly explained the beautiful and special-looking animal in his arms.

You grabbed the hand he held out to you and introduced yourself as well before bidding him farewell for now not too long after. Looking after him as he walked back home you smiled to yourself and hoped for him that he would be able to keep his little lion cub in check from now on.

A couple more days passed once more after that encounter until someone rang your doorbell. You weren’t expecting any visitors, especially not this late in the evening so you wondered who would possibly come over at this time of day.

Out of every possible person on the ship, however, you certainly didn’t expect the General of the Luofu in the flesh to be your late-night visitor. He was standing in front of your door with hands folded behind his back and staring down the street, waiting for your to open the door.

“Good evening, General… Can I help you with something?” You carefully inquired with some hesitancy in your voice. 

You suddenly felt very small, and that was not only because he was a tall, handsome, and quite muscular man but also because you were more than just a bit intimidated.

Nothing to worry about, right? It was only the most important man on the entire ship standing in front of your house. 

Naturally, your mind immediately came to the conclusion that you must’ve done something wrong.

“Uhm-,” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “Do you happen to know where my cat is?

Out of every possible thing he could’ve said, this was the last thing you expected.

“Your… cat?” You asked in disbelief. He simply nodded and looked around your front yard once more.

“It’s white with bright blue eyes. Yanqing has informed me that Mimi is quite fond of you and keeps escaping to your house.”

So it was his pet. But wait, didn’t he just say…

“Cat?”

“Yes. A small grimalkin, up to no good, constantly runs away. My cat.” He elaborated.

At that point, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He seemed very taken aback and confused by your outburst and you were almost inclined to say that it made him, this big hunk of a man, look like a huge, gentle teddy bear.

“Care to explain what is so funny?” He asked crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Forgive me, General,” you wiped a tear out of the corner of your eyes. “I do not wish to burst your bubble here but your cat may not be what you think it is.”

“What are you implying?”

“It’s a lion, General. I can assure you, it’s most certainly not a cat.”

You observed how his eyes widened in surprise and a hint of pink began to dust his cheeks behind his long bangs. You had to bite your lip in order to not start laughing again. He really didn’t know. And the fact you made him aware of it seemed to be quite embarrassing to him.

“Oh. Uhm… well, I actually had my suspicions already.” He stated, once again scratching the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but wonder how a man like him could manage to look this cute when flustered. And to think this was the first face-to-face contact you had ever had with him made it all the better.

Without a doubt, he was an attractive man, and that was something everyone aboard the Luofu would agree to. However, after witnessing him in this flustered, and quite frankly, adorable state tonight, your desire to get to know him on a more personal level increased.

“What would it take for you to not tell anyone about this?” He suddenly inquired. But before you could answer, he made an offer himself. One you couldn’t possibly refuse after everything that transpired tonight.

“How does a dinner sound? My treat of course.”

“Hmm, very well. Or you could let your cat stay with me more often?”

“Well, that can also be arranged,” he chuckled with a playful smile. “But we come as a pair.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (2/7) - dbf!Joel x reader

After having gotten yourself off twice to the thought of Joel, your paths cross again in the kitchen. Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 2.6K A/N: Thank you to everybody who commented on and/or shared part 1! It's quite a trip writing this, but I appreciate the support so much. Part II took a little longer to post due to circumstances, I promise you that part III will follow a little quicker.

< part 1 | series masterlist | main masterlist

“... it’s a responsibility we don’t take lightly. We’ve made a commitment to not just look after the citizens of Texas, but far beyond that. In our work as…”

You roll your eyes at the sound of your father’s voice coming from the tv. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter as you head into the kitchen, already feeling exasperated about hearing him a lot more often than you’d like to. “Does that need to be on?” You brush past Joel who is leaning against the kitchen island, his eyes on the large tv screen on the living room wall, who seemingly is a lot more interested than you are in what is being said.

The urge to touch him, or pretend to bump into him and feel his body is more than just tempting. Even passing this close is enough to smell a whiff of his cologne again, the scent making your nipples hard as you think about the welcome hug you got from him earlier. Frankly, it’s challenging enough already to not blush in front of him right now. 

It was barely five minutes ago that you were fucking your own hand, coming hard while thinking of Joel eating you out to then rail you into your mattress until you were gasping his name. You may not know yet just how big he is - but something tells you that nothing on this man is small. Not those broad shoulders, or those large hands, and definitely not his cock. You can’t wait to discover that by yourself some time soon.

So you try to distract yourself for now, pretend that you don’t feel flushed by this man who made you weak in the knees from the moment you saw him - perhaps really saw him for the first time ever in your life. You nod at the tv, irritation already creeping under your skin as you watch your father speak during the televised press conference. “Blablabla. C-SPAN would be more riveting than this crap.”

Joel scoffs for a moment, turning to look at you questioningly and perhaps somewhat surprised. Raising his eyebrow like that truly shouldn’t be so attractive, nor should his lips look so plush and tempting when he speaks to you. “What? He’s doing good work.”

“Work?” You imitate his scoff from earlier, which amuses him apparently, judging by the smile in his eyes. “He’s just standing in front of a camera in an ill-fitting suit to say some meaningless words.” 

Joel glances back at the tv. “Pretty sure that’s tailored, actually,” he says as he meets your eyes again, and the smile you saw earlier is now a proper smirk, tugging at his lips.

“It’s still - jeez, not the fucking point, Joel.” You shake your head as you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, making sure to reach for one on a higher shelf that requires you to put in some effort. You know that your skirt is probably riding up your legs, giving him something to look at, and you wonder whether he’s an ass or tits kind of guy. But did that really matter in the end? Any guy his age would gladly take a good look at any part of you, so you’ll make sure to give him plenty to look at. “Want some water?”

You notice how it takes Joel a moment to respond, and you smile to yourself when you hear him clear his throat before he speaks. “I’m good, thank you.” The hoarseness in his voice that wasn’t there a moment ago almost makes you giggle, and you’re pleased that he definitely seems to like that skirt on you. “Y’know, should probably cut him some slack,” Joel continues. “I’ve known your dad for a long time. He’s always worked hard. For you and your mom, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s a real fucking hero,” you sigh as you fill your glass with ice water. The last thing you want to talk about is the man whose absence is always just as noticeable as his presence. But you do want Joel to keep talking, to get to know him more. Not to mention the way his voice is sexy as hell. 

“How long have you known each other anyway?” You hop on one of the barstool at the kitchen island, making sure to sway your legs just enough that he may notice it. His eyes quickly flick over your body, absolutely lingering on your legs and skirt - and this time you can’t help but smile, because that’s the second time he’s checked you out. “I don’t think I remember, just that you were around a lot. And that you have a brother.”

Joel tilts his head, thinking it over as he studies you for a moment. “Quite some time,” he then says, a smile playing over his lips. “Over twenty years, before he even met your mom. There was a period we didn’t see much of each other because he was so busy with everything - work, life, and you were born.” You’ve seen pictures of both your parents from that time, of course, but none with Joel as far as you remember - there also aren’t any from back then on the large photo wall at the stairs.

“Got back in touch when you were about four. You were…” Joel’s laugh pulls you out of your thoughts, and he shakes his head. “A bossy little thing. Pigtails and that stuff. Following your dad all around the house and his office whenever you got to join him there. Saying you wanted to work there, too. It was cute.”

“Over my dead body would I ever work there.” But it’s not as snarky as it normally would be, because goddamn - that smile of his is really doing something to you, making you weak in the knees and more mellow than you prefer to be. “Tell him that if it ever comes up.”

“Yes, ma’am. ” He gives you a mock salute. “See? I told you. Bossy back then and it never went away.” He pauses when you reach into your glass of ice water, pulling out an ice cube with your fingers and then bringing it to your lips so you can suck on the refreshment. Yes, you know you’ve dripped water over your top with that - and that you’re being rather slutty with that ice cube. You’re also really hoping that move will work. “But look at you now,” Joel says almost absentmindedly, eyes watching you closely as you part your lips and slip the piece of ice into your mouth.

“Yeap, still bossy. And look at me now indeed.” You try to ignore the fluttering feeling inside of you that squeals with excitement about him having such clear memories of you, even if you only were a kid back then. Not to mention the ‘look at you now’ comment that made other parts of you respond with even more enthusiasm. You crush the last bit of the ice cube, chewing on it as you let your glance slowly travel over him, once again admiring the outfit as you did earlier. 

The worn out jeans, the shirt that just might be a size too small - either deliberately, or because he’d bulked up -, and messy hair, which you hadn’t really noticed before, but now couldn’t keep your eyes off the few curls that clung to the back of his slightly sweaty neck. It’s then that you realize that he’s letting you look freely - maybe not exactly inviting it, but not shying away from it either as he clearly doesn’t seem to mind the attention. 

“Well, maybe you should see me in pigtails now,” you say as you use your best innocent voice, brushing some imaginary dust off your shirt. It works, because his eye is drawn to the movement almost immediately, even though he tries to not show it. So you take the opportunity to tug a little at the fabric, adjust the top on you, and make sure he’s got a good view of your cleavage. “Less cute. But definitely… hot.” 

You bite your lip and smile when you see his eyes widen slightly, and you can’t help but wonder if that’s something he’d be into. Your hair in pigtails and a short little skirt paired with a top that would clearly show your tits. Or maybe a lacy bra, no shirt. Your ex sure had gone nuts for it, and even wanted you to call him daddy, which you did. But there’s not much about a 22 year old boy that makes him actually feel like a daddy dom, not even if he spanks you good. Now Joel, on the other hand…

You look up when you’re interrupted by your mom entering the kitchen. “There you are, honey!” she says happily as she wraps you up in a hug, and you have to force a smile on your face to greet her with similar enthusiasm - even though you’re seething about being interrupted, just when it felt like you were getting somewhere. But it is nice to see her again, you can’t deny that. Your mom was plenty busy with her job on most days, but the major difference with your father was that she always found a way to make some time for you. Her working from a home office instead of being stuck at some firm certainly helped with that, too.

“I’m sorry that I’m so sweaty, I just got back from the gym,” she explains while grabbed a bottle of water for herself, offering one to Joel as well. He dismisses it with a slight shake of his head, grown noticeably quiet since she entered the kitchen, but the look in his eyes almost makes you shiver. Especially when his eyes meet yours, only to quickly look away again. 

Yeah, Joel is absolutely into this. But it’s no surprise that he doesn’t want to let on anything around your mom - it would not go over well. You try to hide your smile as you consider what would happen if you’d get caught with him. The way your father’s head would explode, his facade perhaps crumbling at last. That alone would already be worth the effort of getting into Joel’s pants. 

“... and I got you those mango popsicles you love. Hey. Sweetheart?” Your mom’s voice interrupts your thoughts as she hands you a popsicle, pressing one into Joel’s hand as well. He shakes his head as he tries to hand it back to her, but she won’t have any of it. “Oh c’mon Joel, give them a try. You’ll love them too,” she insists, waving away his hand as he tries to protest. “Alright, I’m gonna go shower and take a power nap before my meetings. I finish at six tonight and maybe we can get some dinner?”

“Sure, six is great, thanks mom,” you say absentmindedly, sucking on the cool treat as you lean back against the counter - it’s delicious and perfect in this summer heat. You wait until she’s left the room, then bring your eyes back to Joel. “What was it we were talking about?”, you ask him in a flirty tone of voice, then take a long, slow lick of your popsicle. “Oh, God. Joel. This is so good. Really hits the spot…”

You see his jaw clench for a moment, his eyes following your every move, but he then shrugs as he bites a piece off his treat. “ ‘s okay. Not my favorite,” he says after a moment.

You give him your brightest smile, as you once again lick your popsicle, this time also catches a spilled drop or two that had dropped on your finger. “Oh don't be ridiculous, Andrea. Everybody wants this,” you sigh, this time holding his eyes as you suckle on the fruity ice some more, and you see the confusion creep onto his face.

“The- what? Who?”

You can’t help but giggle at his confused face. “Fuck me, you really are old,” you tease him. “Miranda Priestly? The meme? Devil Wears Prada?”

“Don’t know what any of that means, darling. Sorry.” For a moment he looks awkward, flustered even, as he slips the rest of his popsicle back into the wrapper and pushes it aside. You can’t help but be disappointed - it would’ve been a pretty sight to watch him eat it all the way, even if he did it in that gruff manner. What kind of psycho bites into a frozen fruit bar? 

Applause sounds loudly from the tv, and closeups of people - including your father - shaking hands with each other fill the screen. Joel’s eyes slide back to the tv for a moment, and you can almost hear him thinking, trying to find a way to change the topic - a reason for him to not look at you licking the fruity treat. 

“We were talking about your dad’s work.”

“Mmhmm. Screw that. Like I said, it’s bullshit.” You suck on the tip of your popsicle, mentally willing him to look back at you. “Him, and the others too. I don’t like those boys in suits or corporate gigs,” you offer, thinking back of your ex and several of the guys in your classes this past semester. Too clean. Too proper. No, what you want is exactly what you had seen on Joel’s Instagram. A big strong guy like him, sweaty and dirty and intensely focused - you just knew that he’d be that same way when fucking you. That glorious collection of unfiltered videos and photos for his business had gotten you wet right away and you would definitely revisit them later to masturbate to again.

“I like *real men* who work with their hands, you know?” you continue. “Not afraid to get dirty while laying some pipe.” Almost as if on cue, you hear water running through the pipes somewhere above you, indicating that your mom got into the shower, and you try not to laugh at how that coincides with your words.

Joel’s jaw clenches again as you take another slow lick of your mango treat, your eyes still locked onto him. He shakes his head as he reaches for the remote and turns off the tv, blissfully removing your father’s voice from the room. “Your dad actually is good with his hands. Y’don’t even know,” he says as he picks up his mostly uneaten popsicle, throwing it into the trash bin. “I know you’re pissed at him, but-...”

“I’m not pissed at him,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even stop them, your voice so sharp that even Joel looks surprised. “I mean, I don’t even care about what he does,” you try to recover, dialing it down. “Why would I? It’s not like he’s ever even home.” 

“Alright, darling. Whatever you say.” Joel gives you an amused look as he washes his hands, then dries them on a towel. “I’ve gotta get ready to head out and meet Tommy, so I’ll see you later. Welcome home to Austin.”

You watch Joel leave the room and head upstairs, and you sigh as you throw out the wooden stick of the popsicle you devoured. “Whatever you say, darling. I’ll fucking show him”, you repeat his words mockingly, rolling your eyes as you grab your phone to text your friend. 

“Got cock blocked earlier by mom. He’s totally into me, just seems scared. Will try again later,” you write, then fill up a whiskey glass with ice before you wander over to the liquor cabinet.

Time for that drink now.

next: part 3 >

series masterlist | main masterlist

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates to be updated when the next part drops!

[catssluvr]

𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader (870 words)

in which you convince spencer to dance with you in the rain

warnings: kissing, fluff :)

based on this request by my sweet anon 🪼 <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You walk down the leaf covered streets, one hand holding Spencer's while the other is buried deep inside your jacket's pocket. It's not unbearably cold, but enough to prickle your bare hands. The crunch of the leaves under your feet and the warmth of his hand is enough to make you content.

Spencer's rambling on about the history book he finished recently, making sure to tell you every little fact he didn't know until reading it.

This isn't unusual, you take the tub together everyday and he insists on walking you home from there. Even though you're pretty sure he has to walk for two more blocks than he usually would.

Your attention feels like it's divided between listening to him intently and admiring the way he scrunches his nose when he's trying to remember the exact words on the book while quoting them.

"You know, with technology and basic tools, the egyptians built constructions that are more than three hundred feet tall. The biggest question is how they managed to lift the materials up, what's believed is that they used ramps." He occasionally rubs his thumb against the back of your hand as he speaks, stealing glances at you to make sure you're still listening.

"Yeah? I didn't know that." You answer with a small smile.

He pauses as he's about to go to back to talking before saying, "I'm not boring you out, am i?"

"No, never." You reassure with a gentle squeeze to his hand.

You don't blame him for feeling nervous, this is all new to you too, dating him. You're just glad it's him.

"Are you sure? Because you don't have to-" You don't let him finish as you lean to kiss the corner of his mouth. His cheeks turn a dark shade of red and his lips turn upwards into a shy smile.

"I'm sure. Promise."

Before either of you can say anything else, you feel a drop of water hitting your cheek. It's only now you realize how dark the sky is, water pouring down more and more which each passing moment.

"We should hurry." Spencer grips your hand, pulling you to walk at a fast pace.

Your house is still a few streets away and you can already feel the water making it's way through your pants. Truth is you don't think that there's any way you're going to get to your house without getting completely soaked, not even if you actually run.

That's when the idea hits you. You drop your hand from his, waiting for him to turn around with a confused face before saying, "Dance with me?"

"What?" He asks, brows furrowed in confusion but a smile threatening to spill from his lips at any second.

"We're not gonna get home dry anyway." You give him your best pleading eyes, grabbing at the sleeve of his coat to persuade him even quicker.

"We'll end up catching a cold, angel." You know he's probably right, but the idea of dancing with him in the rain is way too tempting to care about getting sick.

"C'mon, Spence. Live a little." You tease with a warm smile, it's quite obvious he's going to give in. "Please?" And that's all it takes for it to be impossible for him to reject your request.

"Yeah, alright." Spencer rolls his eyes to feign annoyance, though his eyes tell you the opposite.

With a triumphal grin, you pull him to the middle of the empty sidewalk. Your arms find place around his shoulder and you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him with wet hair. You don't think you've ever seen him like this before but it certainly is one look that you like seeing him in.

His hands move to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sway gently. He rubs your hip with his thumb over your jacket ever so tentatively, gazing at you so softly you feel like you might melt into a puddle.

It's like you're not even bothered by dancing to no music, the sound of the rain pouring and your breathing against his cheek being enough of a melody to him. He suddenly regrets thinking it was a bad idea.

Spencer pulls you flush against him, barely any space between both of your mouths. "Is this okay?" He asks in almost a whisper.

You barely have time to nod before he's smashing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. Your fingers tangle themselves in the wet hair at the nape of his neck, nose nudging his gently as you return it just as eagerly.

Your hands fall to his chest after a moment as he moves to cup your face, the kiss becoming soft but just as addicting.

You're not sure how long you stay like that, you don't care. It feels like doing this forever would be a quite easy task.

"We should probably go." You pull away breathlessly, giggling at the way his lips follow yours and your comment almost falls into deaf ears.

"Live a little." He quotes what you had said earlier, all the shyness from earlier disappeared as he smiles teasingly.

You don't have time to answer again as he kisses you one more time.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[inkedbybarnes]

well and perfect

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky has a surprise for your birthday.

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. a lotta fluff, but what's new... mentions of insecurity and anxiety if you blink, bucky being a sweetheart that i wish existed, slighteeest hint of implied smut if you blink, usage of petnames such as baby, doll, and sweetheart, lowercase writing.

a request from the lovely @brnesblogposts. happiest 21st birthday to you! i am sorry it took quite long, so i hope i am not late. i tried to write it in a way that would keep it general but sweet, since i don't know much about the reader celebrating and wanted to cater for more people. i hope you like this one and that you have the best birthday ever. thank you for requesting! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“where are you taking me, james?”

only a few specks of light peeked through the piece of cloth that bucky had over your eyes. his argument was that it will keep you and your curiosity away from figuring out his so-called surprise for your birthday.

“it wouldn't be much of a surprise if i answer you, doll.” he chuckled, his fingers brushing your thigh briefly as he drove to this mysterious location.

“but is it really necessary to have me blindfolded?" you complained, tempted to take a peek. “i wanna see you. this isn't fair.”

“nah uh, you're trying to be all cute for me and it's not going to work this time. we're almost there. be patient,” he said, his hand now finding its way up to yours. “keep it on and i swear it'll be worth it. at least, i hope it will.”

you sensed his doubts and worries right away, feeling bad for pressuring him when all he did was make you feel special since you woke up this morning. from bringing you the breakfast in bed of your dreams to showering you with gifts you forgot you mentioned but he completely remembered. oh, and don't forget the cake... the perfect cake you've been drooling over for months!

you assume that you've already been to the place or know the way to it, hence why he had to keep you entirely clueless during the entire ride. not wanting to make him even more nervous, you decided to give up.

“okay, okay. i'll be good and cooperate, i promise.” you squeezed his hand, carefully leaning toward his side to give him a kiss on the cheek, which was a brave decision considering that you were literally blindfolded. “buuut, am i allowed to sing your ears off until we get there?”

“when were you never allowed?” his hand left yours for a moment to turn on the radio, connecting his phone to its bluetooth feature (he thanked technology for that one) and letting the playlist you made play through the speakers. “i know you're bored. so, sing away, sweetheart.”

the car stopped and probably along with your heart. you knew that this was it. you were finally here, wherever here was, and excitement was an understatement. however, you stayed calm and waited for bucky's confirmation first before reacting.

“i can basically hear your insides shouting,” bucky said as you hear the car door opening. “we're here, baby.”

yes!

“can i take it off now?” you asked quickly. “please, please?”

the car door opened at your side, the rough yet warm chuckle of bucky letting you know he was right beside you. “alright, take 'em off.”

not waiting for another second, you grabbed the cloth away from your eyes and scanned the area. although it took you a few minutes to figure it out, you knew where you were.

“oh my god, we're in brooklyn?” you asked with a gasp, but even more excited now that you were in one of bucky's favourite places in the world.

“yeah, is that okay? i knew you wanted me to give you a better tour around brooklyn, so here it is.” he pressed his fingers into his nape, worried that you might find the entire idea out of place or unfitting for the occasion. “i would've thrown you a party like the team suggested, but i don't.. i don't know how that works yet. i'm not really good at whatever people do for celebrations these days, so i wanted to show you the way i knew it back then but i'm suddenly not sure if you'd like it.”

you could basically hear your heart break as he tried to explain. it hasn't been that long since he had been away from wakanda and pardoned by the government, so he hasn't fully adjusted with the changes that the current generation had. while bucky never paid attention in terms of fitting in, he wanted to fit in your life. little does he know that nobody else could be a better fit.

“no. stop that, bucky. look at me.” you hopped off the car, closing the distance between the two of you. “does it look like i'm sad? disappointed? anything relatively negative?" he shook his head. “exactly, because i'm so excited for what you have planned. you barely even started and i feel like i already won the lottery. so stop worrying, please?”

“i just don't want you to think that i'm being selfish. it's your birthday, you know? it should be about you, but here i am taking you to a place where i grew up in and has nothing to do with you,” he said, his anxiety and insecurity taking over. “but i really thought about this and i.. i just want you to be a part of all of me, even if we were basically from different times. i want you to know that if we were to meet back then, i'd fall for you the same way if not harder, and this is exactly how i'd show you.”

timeless love and devotion.

that was his gift and he thought he was being selfish.

and if it was possible to burst, you probably would've. he didn't even realise how priceless his gift was compared to anything you could've asked for, and yet he felt like he was failing you.

“i love you. so, so much. you know that, right?” you reassured him first, and when he nodded you continued. “i would've enjoyed a party, sure. anything from you would be perfect for me, but a party would most likely just give me a few days of happiness, maybe a memorable memory too, but this.. what you're giving me will last me a lifetime. you don't understand how big this is for me and here you are thinking that you're failing me.”

“i'm not?” he asked, lost in the battle he had within his mind.

“short answer? you basically made me fall in love with you again.”

“really?" his eyes twinkled, as if he was a child being complimented for his scribbles.

you let out a giggle before answering. “yes, now can we start my birthday tour? you made me wait all day, barnes.”

“well, that's no good. can't have my birthday girl waiting," he said, finally smiling. “this way, gorgeous.”

you spent the entire day visiting his favourite spots. although most of them were already replaced with something else, he still made sure to tell you the stories behind them and how they mattered to him, as well as a few playful scenarios he made that included you and young bucky if you were in the 40s.

he then took you to a restaurant he found fancy and expensive back then, telling you that he remembered saying to himself that he'd only bring a special girl to the restaurant and make her feel special. not being able to help it, you asked if he ever brought a girl there back then.

you were the first one, and he knew you were his last.

on your way to the movie theatre, he didn't forget to show you the alley where he'd always find steve in trouble. you both even took a picture in it to show the team, especially steve, when you get home.

“i feel like a teenager again.”

bucky sat beside you at one of the oldest theatres in brooklyn, the same one bucky used to visit back in the 40s, to watch a movie you've been wanting to see. it was a surprise that it was still up and running, but with its history now being connected to the famous steve rogers and bucky barnes, it was easily a tourist spot.

“you're 107 years old, james. i think you're quite past that stage already.” you reminded him which earned you a sharp glance and a pout.

“what i mean is, this is exactly how i imagined i'd take you out back then. you know, asking you to dinner, going to the theatre to watch a movie we'd completely ignore because i'll be too busy distracting you—”

“distracting me, huh?” you asked, even more intrigued. “how exactly would you distract me? what if i'm really interested in the movie?”

“did i really say that? god, i'm even recklessly acting like a teenager as well.” you watched his cheeks turn into a shade of pink. you raised a brow, prompting him to explain further. “it's dark and we're really close. after all the time and tension we've spent before coming here, i would be desperate to kiss you.”

“james buchanan barnes!” you gasped, a fake and exaggerated one. “those are some bad thoughts you're having, and i thought you were a gentleman.”

“i am, i am!” he exclaimed, failing to hear the playful tone to your words. “i wouldn't even do anything beyond holding someone's hands back then. my ma would put me in a cage if i did anything reckless," he said, shaking his head with a smile at the memory of his mom. “but i played this scenario a thousand times in my head already ever since i met you. i just know you would've made me crazy for you, and you still do.”

you looked into his cool blue eyes, getting lost in them in silence while imagining what your life could've been with him back in the 40s. would've it been different? would've it lasted? would've it been a possibility? is that what he hoped he had?

“you got quiet.” he noticed. “what's going inside that pretty head?”

“you.”

“well, i'm honoured.” he grinned. “tell me about it.”

“i'm just thinking about how it would've been like back then,” you answered. “i kinda wish we met sooner. i think that's what you have wanted instead.”

“you're all that i ever wanted. not the time, not the place, but the person,” he said, kissing your fingers before linking yours and his together. “we may not have met earlier, but i was meant to end up with you. i probably had to go through everything.. that happened, because there was something amazing waiting for me in the end.”

“oh, bucky. don't say that. you deserved none of that. you don't have to go through anything to have me.”

“but it's true, you made it all worth it,” he shrugged. “if i had to go through all of that nightmare again, i would do it in a heartbeat if i'll wake up to this reality.”

“god, you make it impossible for me not to cry.” you sniffed, feeling the dam break at his words. “thank you. not just for this day, but for everything. i wish i could do more to let you know that i love you so much.”

“i love you even more. you're already doing more than i deserve, baby.” he kissed your tears away, then your forehead. “don't cry, that wasn't my plan for your birthday.”

“it's your fault for being so fucking perfect.” you hit his chest softly. “now i am never letting you go.”

“i already made the same decision the moment you told me your name. now, come here.” he pulled you into a hug, letting you cry in his embrace until you notice the silence around you. you looked around and noticed the empty theatre, as well as the rolling credits on the big screen.

“we watched nothing from the movie! they all left!”

“okay, i am definitely guilty for that one. i did say i was going to distract you. i promise to get us another ticket tomorrow and have no distractions.” he laughed, standing up to his feet and offering his hand to you. “let's go? i booked us a room, and i heard their room service is amazing.”

you took his hand and smoothed out your clothes. “something tells me the room service comes exactly from you.”

“oh, i don't know...” he had a sinister smile on his face as you both walked out of the theatre. “you gotta try to find out.”

you walked hand in hand to the hotel, liking the idea of enjoying the night sky of brooklyn than taking a cab, especially if the hotel wasn't that far away.

all was well and perfect until you felt a cold drop of water land on your cheek.

“wait, is that...” before you could finish your sentence, a downpour suddenly erupted, instantly wetting you both.

“it's raining!” you exclaimed, finding the situation amusing than a way to dampen your mood, remembering how much you adored the rain and the idea of being underneath it with someone you love. “you know, i actually dreamt of being—”

bucky suddenly pulled you close, kissing you under the rain. through your soaked clothes and the raindrops that trickled down your face, he can feel your warm and soft lips pressed against his. it was a perfect moment as the rain continued to pour down, leaving you both soaked, but content.

“wow,” you whispered after. “it was always in my bucket list to get kissed under the rain.”

“i know, i remember.”

your heart skipped a beat. “you remember everything, don't you?”

“everything about you, i do.” he wiped the streaks of rain around your eyes, then down to your lips. “are you happy?”

“so, so happy. you have no idea," you answered, sighing in contentment while your body was pressed against his. “i'm at a point where i feel like none of this is real.”

“believe it, because you have to get used to it.” he smiled, leaning for another kiss. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

all was indeed well and perfect.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[lesbiankimdahyun]

CONTRACT LOVER V: MINA

2.3K words

CW: A/B/O dynamics, G!P

A/N: this is most likely the final installment for this series, ty for reading <3

[A!Mina x F!O!Reader]

When you finally had enough strength to get up and check your phone, you saw a text from Mina already waiting for you. 

Minari [2 hours ago]: Meet me in my room when you’re done? 

You scrambled to get moving. You willed your sore, tired body to go faster, but it took you a bit of time to get dressed. On wobbly legs, you made your way up a few floors and over to Mina’s hotel room. 

As soon as she opened the door, your mouth began watering. She had brought back practically enough takeout to feed you, her and the other two Alphas.

“Hi,” you said shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear. You could hardly look at her, wondering, for the first time, how she perceived you when you both knew exactly what you’d been up to in the hours she was away. But upon seeing your weary state, Mina immediately ushered you in to sit down and reached for the takeout. You tried to help her set up the food, but she wouldn’t let you. 

You didn’t realize just how hungry you had been until she set a plate in front of you. Rice, salmon, vegetables, all of it was delicious. You really tried not to wolf down your food, but you were so focused on eating that it was impossible for you to hold a conversation with Mina while you ate. In lieu of conversing, the Alpha turned on a drama for the two of you to watch instead. When you were finally sated, you felt ready to sleep for days. Savoring your last bite, though, you knew Mina must have invited you over for more than a meal with zero conversation. You turned your attention back to the Alpha and started to take off your shirt, feeling about as ready as you could be for another round of sex. You prayed it would be gentler than what you’d endured earlier. 

But to your surprise, Mina stopped you. The Alpha covered her eyes when you started pulling your shirt over your head. 

“Wait!” she said, batting at your arm to get you to stop. “I just kinda wanna…I don’t know, hang out? If that’s okay..?” You could have cried from how grateful you felt at that moment. You immediately pulled your shirt back down, watching her make space for you on the couch. 

Tiny emotional warning bells went off in your head as she pulled you closer to her to cuddle, but your body turned them off and you let her hold you, resting with your head against her chest. You knew you needed to sort through whatever was happening beneath the surface with Mina, but it just wasn’t the time— it was never the right time. What it was, though, was comfortable. 

As time passed, the two of you became deeply embroiled in a debate over what movie you both wanted to watch. While browsing for backup options, when suddenly you realized how gross you probably looked, and smelled, to Mina after being repeatedly ravaged and scented by Momo and Sana. 

“Oh god,” you said, embarrassed. “I- I should shower.” You sat up quickly, leaving the warmth of her arms. 

“You could shower here,” Mina said, not quite ready for you to leave. “Or, actually,” her voice grew softer, “I might have an idea.” 

She let you rinse off quickly in her shower to get the remnants of sex and sweat off your body, and then Mina ran a bath for you, wanting to give you a bit of aftercare she knew Momo and Sana absolutely weren’t giving you. That’s what she said it was, anyway. To you, it felt like far more than what she probably was expected to do for her end of the contract, but you let it go. The visual of the bath when it was ready was far too tempting to pass up.

She held your hand as she helped you into the tub. The warm water felt incredible on your aching muscles, and you let out a slow hum of approval. You brightened instantly as you sat down to settle in. The bubbles and water running over your skin made your bruises, bites and scratches shiny like fresh tattoos. Mina admired you quietly, secretly committing the image to her memory. 

With more energy to converse now, you asked about the rest of her day as you reached for the bar of soap to start washing yourself. Mina took it instead, insisting you let her do the work for you. You went back and forth a little, but when she finally just said, “Y/N, please?” you caved. 

Your cheeks went bright pink while she washed you gently, even taking care to not get shampoo or conditioner in your eyes when she rinsed out your hair. She told you about the rest of her day– the shops she visited, the meal she ate while she was out, about the people and landscapes she saw. 

She trailed off, distracted by how cute you looked surrounded by all of the bubbles in the bath. The way you looked at her while you listened attentively made her heart twist with want and ache. She wished Momo and Sana could see you like this. Maybe it would make them take more care with you after fucking you for hours. Maybe she wouldn’t be so sour about sharing you with them if they just looked after you a little more. Or maybe she should just put an end to it and finally tell them– tell you– 

“...Alpha?” 

The sound of your voice brought her back to reality. Mina frowned. “You don’t have to call me that,” she said. 

You smiled softly. “I know, I was just trying to get your attention because your name didn’t.” 

She blushed a little. “Oh. Sorry,” she said. 

You shook your head. “No, no. I just wanted to know if…” you hesitated, holding onto the edge of the tub. Maybe this was a bad idea. “...you would join me?” you gestured to the tub. “We could drain this and add more fresh hot water.” 

Mina’s big, brown eyes blinked quietly at you. 

Oh fuck, you thought. You totally had misread her. You opened your mouth to say forget it, but then you saw Mina smile. Like, really smile, the cute gummy smile you got out of her sometimes. “Okay,” she said, getting up from the floor where she’d been kneeling beside the tub. 

She dimmed some of the lighting and, after adding more hot water and more bubbles, Mina finally ditched her clothes and joined you. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help but admire her body as she got comfortable in the water with you. You knew this probably violated your contract in some way, something about fairness and equal turns and time, but you didn’t care. Clearly Mina didn’t, either.  

“Do you have enough room?” she asked, and you nodded. 

The two of you relaxed together. At first, you were across from one another, but when Mina wanted to stretch out a bit, you moved over to her side of the tub. You wrapped yourself around Mina naturally, the water gently covering and then retreating from the curves of both of your bodies. Your fingertips found their way through swaths of bubbles and onto her skin, tracing over her collarbone, down her shoulder, along her arm. 

Your eyes wandered over the rest of her body, mesmerized by the rise and fall of her pale chest, the way her breasts were barely hidden beneath what the transparent bubbles did their best to cover. Even though you were bone tired, you found yourself getting a bit wet the more you admired her. Mina hadn’t put her hair up and her long, black locks swirled in the water. She’d never looked more siren-esque. You didn’t realize your scent had gotten stronger until Mina suddenly cleared her throat.

“Y/N…” she said, taking a slow breath. “Are you okay?” 

You blushed, suddenly looking up from staring at the beauty marks near her lips. “Hm? Oh, I’m fine.”

The Alpha chuckled lightly. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s time to get out before you turn into a prune.” 

“No!” you protested with a laugh, readjusting yourself in the water and absentmindedly straddling her waist. You just wanted to keep her close for a little longer. “If anyone’s turning into a prune it’s y–” you stopped suddenly as you felt something. 

Mina realized at the same time you did: she was getting hard. 

“Shit,” the Alpha said under her breath, backing away from you, trying to create a little distance. “I’m sorry, let me get out and–”  

“Mina no, no,” you said softly, reaching for her hand. A light wave of desire rolled through you as your fingers touched hers. “Let me help you.” 

The Alpha shook her head in disbelief. “Y/N no, you already took all of us once today! You should be resting. Please, let me get out and get you a towel.” 

“Mina,” you said, now intentionally planting yourself in her lap so she couldn’t get up, “I can smell your scent too, you know.” 

Mina blushed deeply. “Which is why I should really–” 

“Please?” you said. It wasn’t like you to beg like this, especially in the state you were in. You knew you shouldn’t, but you did it anyway: you released some of your scent quickly in a last ditch effort to change her mind. 

“Hey!” Mina protested a moment later when your scent hit her nose, but then came her own strengthened scent. The Alpha mulled it over for a few seconds. “Are you absolutely sure?” 

You nodded, putting one hand on Mina’s shoulder to steady yourself as you reached down, your hand hovering above her hardened member. “May I?” 

The Alpha nodded. You took her cock in your hand as you straddled her, pumping her length slowly. Mina’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Y-you really don’t have t-”

You interrupted her, kissing her soft, parted lips. “I want to,” you said firmly. 

The Alpha looked stunned. “A-aren’t you not supposed to…to do that…” 

It was true– your contract didn’t forbid it, but kissing an Alpha on their lips was discouraged, lest it lead to feelings and thoughts of mating. But Mina’s mouth fell open as she watched you guide her cock between your legs, forgetting she’d said anything as you sank down on her length. She let out a soft moan, and you whimpered immediately at the fullness. 

She held onto your hips lightly, trying to thrust into you as gently as she could. But even with the slower pace, the water in the bathtub threatened to spill over. Sliding out of you, you watched inquisitively as Mina maneuvered her way out from beneath you and stood up in the water. 

“We’ll flood the bathroom,” she said with a hint of a smile, climbing out of the tub. Her stiff cock hit her thigh lightly as she stood and toweled off. “I promise the bed’s more comfy anyway.” 

Eyes fixated on her, you nodded wordlessly, letting the Alpha help you out of the tub and into a warm, fluffy towel. As soon as you both were nice and dry, you were in her bed, straddling Mina once again. One hand held onto her shoulder as you picked up where you’d left off: sitting down on her full length, while your other hand held Mina’s own hand in place as she cupped your face lightly. 

Mina took great care with how she handled your sore body as she fucked you. Her touch was gentle, almost loving, as were the words of pure praise she whispered to you while she thrust into you as gently as she could manage. Her eyes were shut tight in concentration to keep her Alpha instincts in check so she wouldn’t hurt you. Something about her tenderness and self restraint made you want to cry, but you told yourself it was just because you were overtired. Mina bit her tongue when she came, burying her head in your neck to avoid admitting something she knew she shouldn’t as she filled you up once more for the evening. She insisted on getting you off afterward, her delicate hands wrapped around your thighs as she lapped slowly and skillfully at your cunt until you came in her mouth. 

Entirely spent, you allowed Mina to dress you in one of her t-shirts. You attempted to sit up to find the rest of your clothes, but the Alpha quickly talked you into sleeping with her in her bed instead of going back to your room. Not that it would have taken much convincing given how badly you needed to rest, but Mina was still secretly delighted you were going to stay. 

As soon as she was done getting ready for bed, she climbed under the covers with you and you snuggled up to her sleepily. You had not a single second to unpack any of your thoughts before you promptly fell asleep feeling warm and protected against Mina’s chest. 

The Alpha held you close for a few minutes, allowing herself to be selfish and scent you heavily before gently moving you to a more comfortable sleeping position beside her. She watched you as you slept, her eyes taking in every detail of your face from your eyelashes down to the relaxed corners of your mouth. 

Mina’s normal before-bed routine included gaming on her Switch, but it was still back in your room. She didn’t mind, though. Having you be the last thing she saw before falling asleep instead of a pixelated world, she decided, was just as good, if not better. Before she turned off the bedside lamp, she texted Momo and Sana to let them know you were with her so they wouldn’t be frustrated in the early morning trying to find you when they needed release again. Then, satisfied, she promptly turned the lamp off and wrapped herself around you for the night. 

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

The long awaited pt2 to the pneumonia/intubation Whump post (this one)...

Caretaker's glad Whumpee's so out of it from all the meds they're on. If they were more aware, they'd likely be terrified.

After all, the equipment that the doctors are pulling over on carts, laying out on the sheets, is enough to make Caretaker feel nauseous- they keep eyeing the metal device the doctor checks over, the one that muted whispers have denoted as the 'laryngoscope'.

They sit beside Whumpee's bed (they're allowed to for the time being, until Whumpee's actually asleep and the real procedure has to begin), holding the hand that hasn't been invaded by a cannula site. A nurse is positioned at Whumpee's other side already pumping them full of drugs that have Whumpee drifting, eyes open but barely there. Caretaker strokes their hair, giving them a wobbly smile as yet another dose of something or other is pushed into Whumpee's cannula.

"I'm right here, whumpee. I'm right here with you, sweetheart. Just try to relax."

The latter message is more for themselves than Whumpee, if they're honest. They're the one with a racing heartbeat- Whumpee's is slower now, as indicated by the dull beep-beep of the monitor they're hooked up to. Their breaths are slower too, so shallow that if they weren't already due to be intubated, Caretaker would be slamming on the emergency button.

"Propofol's going in now." One of the doctors says. Caretaker knows enough to understand that this means sleep, for Whumpee, is imminent.

Sure enough, within seconds of the syringe's plunger being pushed down, a glaze enters Whumpee's eyes, the lids becoming heavy. They open their mouth, tongue darting out to wet chapped lips for a moment as if they want to speak, but Caretaker, unshed tears in their eyes, shushes them gently.

"Hey, just sleep now, alright? Everyone's looking after you. Sweet dreams, Whumpee. Night night."

Whumpee's glassy gaze fixes on Caretaker's, narrowing and narrowing as their eyes drift closer to being closed until...

Out.

Caretaker leans forward, lower lip trembling slightly, and kisses Whumpee on the forehead, just as the doctor steps up behind them.

"Alright, we're gonna get started now. it's probably easier for you to wait outside and-"

"No." Caretaker interjects, tears nearly spilling over. "Sorry, no, I- I need to be here. I won't... I won't get in your way, I promise, I just- I need to be here for them."

And so they remain. They remain when the doctors place the mask over Whumpee's face, murmuring to each other about sats and correct timings. They remain when the principle anaesthesiologist brushes a fingertip below Whumpee's eyelashes, checking for movement and finding none. They remain when the same anesthesiologist stands behind Whumpee's head, removes the mask and tilts Whumpee's chin towards them, gently pulling open their mouth and sliding the laryngoscope in.

The blade slips into place too easily, Caretaker thinks. there's too little resistance. Whumpee should be gagging, thrashing about, screaming for help, but instead they lay unconscious and unmoving as it's driven deep into their throat, pushing their tongue out of the way to give the doctors a clear view of their vocal cords.

"Tube." the anesthesiologist says tersely. That long snaking tube, already lubricated, is placed atop a gloved palm.

Caretaker is tempted to look away as it's inserted, but their eyes are fixed. They watch as it's threaded past the laryngoscope, through the opening of the vocal cords that only the doctor can see. They watch as it slots fully into place and the anesthesiologist adjusts it, leaving it to rest against Whumpee's lower lip for only a moment before the cuff is inflated and the ventilator is hooked up to it instead.

And as the circuit is completed, Caretaker would think Whumpee dead- their eyes are closed, everything is so still, and whenever the tube needs a slight adjustment, they're floppy beneath the touch of the adjuster. Only when Caretaker looks closer do they see the continual, regular fogging of the tube with each assisted breath Whumpee takes- a sign that they're living, at least.

The anesthesiologist glances over at the screen, which to Caretaker looks merely like a smattering of numbers and wave forms.

"We've got N tidal CO2. Everything's connected. Secure the tube and continue to monitor."

With that, they step away, their primary task complete, and a nurse steps in instead- already equipped with an ET tube holder. Caretaker watches them gently press one of the sticky pads against Whumpee's cheek, then moving to the other cheek to apply the other pad. Between them, the tube is secured in place, and at last Whumpee is... Whumpee is...

Caretaker doesn't even realise they've moved to the bedside until they shakily lower themselves into the seat there, listening to the wooshing of the ventilator and the beeping of so many monitors.

Whumpee is... sick. really sick.

They've known it for a long time, of course, but seeing Whumpee intubated, sedated in an intensive care unit, their cheeks pale, sweat beading on their brow... it hammers reality home even further.

Home.

Whumpee isn't going to be going home for a long while yet.

[la-petite-lapin]

Keeping Secrets | John Price x female!reader

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John Price x afab!Reader Word Count: 2.3k Content Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, mentions of injury, cannon typical violence, swearing, age gap (reader is in her twenties, John is in his forties), suggestive content, oral (F receiving), PIV (protected (stay safe, kids)), brief mention of Price JRs, no use of Y/N

The Captain and the Sergeant start keeping secrets from the rest of the taskforce

It wasn't like it was in the movies or the books. There were no longing glances across crowded rooms; no deep, personal conversations late at night. There was no warning.

The first indication that anything had changed between the two of you was in a dimly lit safehouse. A job had gone wrong - horribly, irreparably wrong - and Soap had been medevac-ed out to the nearest army hospital. The rest of you would have to wait until morning; would have to make it through the night when a countless number of enemy operatives could still be hunting you, then hike to the nearest evac point before sunrise.

Ghost was pacing the worn wooden floors, and you were sure he'd wear through them at some point. You knew better than to make a joke about it - knew better than most the deep bond that he and Johnny shared. To mock it would be to die a brutal death by Ghost's hand in the night.

Gaz was coping with it in the best way he knew how: checking in with everyone, yourself - as the newest member of the taskforce - included, mother-hening his way around the three-room cabin in the middle of rural woodlands.

It wasn't until he'd finally convinced Ghost to sit down and take a breath, that Captain Price finally approached you. Heavily, he lowered himself down to sit beside you on the shabby old sofa, not saying a word at first as you stared ahead at nothing.

Johnny had been standing right next to you when it all went to shit. Him diving in front of you like a lunatic was probably the only reason that you were there with them. The shot to his shoulder would have been a direct headshot on you.

It was hard not to feel bitter or dazed about that.

"It's not your fault, Sarge," John said, his voice markedly softer than usual. He typically made it a point to avoid babying you in any way - knew that you hated being treated differently to the boys - but you could make an exception for him just the once. "Soap chose to block that bullet. Saved your life an' all. Cheer up, yeah? He's alright and you'll see 'im soon enough."

You turned to face him, offering him a small, weak shadow of a smile. "I know. It just sucks."

John frowned, seeing through the thin veil of fake cheeriness. Quieter, he added, "It's alright to be shaken by this, too. First near-death is always scary. It stays with you in a way the ones after don't." There was a pause - a long, tentative pause - as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his parted knees, dark eyes finding yours and holding them. "If- if you don't want to be alone tonight, you don't have to be."

Laid out in the open like that, the offer seemed so damn tempting.

Your mind raced through all of the shit that could go down if you took him up on it - if you were found out. You could be removed from the taskforce, stripped of the sergeant rank that you'd fought so hard to attain. John could be reprimanded for sleeping with an officer under his orders. But, if no one knew... what was the harm?

With a soft, sweet smile - a genuine one this time - you tilted your head, leaning slightly into his space on the sofa. "Yeah. I think I'd like some company, Captain."

Hours later, after Ghost had fallen asleep on the floor of the living room and Gaz had been assigned first watch, Price led you into the smaller second room of the safehouse - the bedroom - under the guise of checking your wounds. In reality, the minor scrapes to his arm and leg had already been dressed, not requiring any further attention. If anything, the cut to Gaz's forearm was of a higher severity.

John grinned as he shut the door with a soft thud, sliding the flimsy, rusted deadbolt across to lock it. You were thankful for the added security; the increased reassurance that the boys wouldn't be able to just wander in and catch you in the act.

The bedroom was poorer lit than the main room, making it harder to see. The moon illuminated the outline of the Captain's broad, muscular frame as he removed his beanie and tactical vest before turning his attention to his belt. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, thighs clenching in an attempt to relieve some of the aching tension in your core.

He took his time stripping down to his white t-shirt and boxer briefs, the material straining with the impressive tent in the front. "Like what you see?" he grumbled cockily, noticing your attention.

You let out something akin to a whine. He looked so good - so unbelievably good after the day from Hell you'd just had. There was also something else that made it undeniably more thrilling; the risk of getting found out. The taboo of it all.

You couldn't deny that you'd found Price attractive before that deployment. You'd spent every day for the past two years around him, living, eating, and working alongside him and the boys. It had also been a fact of life that he had a following - a constant, ever-present gaggle of new, female recruits cornering him in the hallways and vying for his attention. But he never took any of them to bed, preferring to spend his nights in the barracks alone.

At first, you'd thought that he had a wife or a partner off-base, but a conversation on your last stakeout together led you to the truth; he just wasn't interested in the barrack bunnies. He wasn't interested in sleeping with someone just for the sake of it - just because they wanted to get a piece of taskforce 141's infamous Captain.

"I think I might need to see some more to decide," you purr teasingly, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to the bed.

He stepped forward slowly, hands rising to rest on his tapered hips. He was built like a bear; broad, built, and covered in a fine layer of downy body hair.

You licked your lips, eyes tracking every single minute movement.

"I think I need to see something from your first, princess," John teased. "It's only fair."

Eyes never leaving his, you made quick work of stripping out of your own tac vest and pants, chucking them over the edge of the mattress and into a heap on the floor. You even went one step further; shucking off your t-shirt. With a small smirk, you leaned back, clad only in your flimsy underwear and sports bra.

John's eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

"Like what you see, Captain?" you purred, words a light-hearted mockery of his own self-assured crowing.

"If I'd have known," John grumbled as he took another slow, measured step towards the bed, "that this is what you looked like under all that gear, Sergeant, we'd have done this a long time ago."

A grin formed on your lips, ego expanding ten sizes as John prowled across to close the rest of the distance. His irises were all but swallowed up by his pupils, blown with lust.

Shuffling back on the mattress, you eased back as John came to a stop, kneeling between your parted legs. With a lover's gentle reverence, he pressed a kiss to each of your knees in turn before turning his attention to the scrap of damp cotton protecting your modesty.

"May I?" he asked softly, fingers hovering over the waistband at the side, thumb smoothing a path along the ridge of your hipbone.

Breathily, you gave your consent. "Yes. Please, John-"

With practiced ease, he lifted your hips up and off of the bed, guiding your underwear down your bare legs then chucking them to join the rest of the clothes littering the floor. His hands skimmed back up, callouses feather-light against the skin of your calves before rising to knead your plush thighs when he reached them once again. He seemed to be mapping out your body; ghosting over the sensitive parts repeatedly, lingering where he'd deduced you liked to be touched.

The man was a fast learner. An eager one, for sure.

When he'd finished kneading at the soft skin there, he pushed your thighs apart, holding them down to the mattress and exposing the moisture glistening at their apex. Licking his lips, he bowed his head slightly, lowering his body down to the bed.

"John?" you asked, confused as to where he was going and why he still had his briefs on. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, princess?" he mumbled against your inner thigh, dark eyes lifting to meet yours. "Didn't think to bring any rubbers with me, and I don't fancy having any little Prices running around any time soon." A spark of mischief glittered within his gaze as he nuzzled his bristly moustache against a particularly sensitive spot. Your shiver seemed to only embolden him further. "Which means tonight's all about you."

You arched your back off of the bed, trying to push his face closer to where you desperately needed it. "Can you hurry up then?" you whined, getting impatient.

John chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

And, with that, he bowed his head and made good on his promise.

"John!" you yelled, thighs burning with the strain as you bounced up and down on his cock. "John- fuck!"

A whole three months had passed since the first night you'd spent together in the safehouse. The morning after, you'd fully expected him to put an immediate stop to it the moment you were all rescued. Instead, he'd held your hand in the Heli - tucked between both of your bodies, hidden from sight - and promised that you'd talk about what this is later.

Nights since had been split between your room in the barracks and his. Mornings, too, upon occasion. Every spare moment the two of you got alone was accompanied by the feeling of his large, warm hands on you. By his constant, protective presence in your life.

It was a miracle that no one had noticed the new pull between the two of you. How you seemed to orbit one another.

And then there was the sex. The constant fucking.

"Keep it down, princess," he grumbled, breathless and sweating, beneath you. He didn't look too bothered though - too blissed out to properly care or consider the consequences of someone overhearing.

Clinging to some semblance of intelligent thought, you bit down on your wrist in an attempt to muffle the sounds leaving your mouth, drawn out by the captain and his fat cock. It was quickly becoming one of your favourite parts of him, second only to his beautiful, expressive laugh. It was no secret to you that he was well-endowed. Well-endowed and skilled at utilising it.

"Stop that," he grumbled gruffly, raising a hand to gently remove your wrist from between your teeth. He quickly replaced it with his own hand, guiding the soft part of his palm between his thumb and index finger into your mouth. Anything to prevent you from accidentally injuring yourself. "Keep riding, love. I'm getting close."

A part of your brain purred at that. Love.

It was a pet name that he used sparingly. Perhaps because he saw the flash of panic in your eyes almost every previous time he'd used it.

But now...

You tipped yourself back, hands finding purchase on his tensed, thick thighs to deepen the angle. Freeing his hand from your clenched jaw, you whimpered, "I'm... John, I'm so close."

"Me too, sweetheart," he mumbled, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. He punctuated the sentence with a snap of his hips. "Me too."

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he tugged you down into his chest and rolled, rising up onto his knees as he set you on your back. Pressing a trail of soft, tender kisses to your face and neck, he picked up the pace; drilling deliciously deep.

You whined, squeezing your legs around his waist and clawing at his back with your fingernails.

With a low growl, John lost it. Turning frantic as he barrelled towards his rapidly approaching end, he pushed you towards your own orgasm - practically bullying it out of you.

You came with a sharp scream, turning your head in a fraught attempt to smother the sound in the pillow. It smelled of Price - rugged, masculine aftershave and a hint of tobacco smoke.

He himself came moments later, gasping as his release swept over him. Covering your body like the world's best weighted blanket, he slumped down on top of you.

Still buried deep inside the paradise at the apex of your thighs, he pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss to the side of your neck, running his nose along your throat. It was one of the best part of sex with Price; the cuddling that came after.

Giving a small jolt of his hips, he grumbled something into your salty skin.

"Hm?"

John lifted his face slightly, breath tickling the underside of your jaw. "I said, I wish I was ten years younger. Then I could go again and again without a half-hour break between each round."

You giggled. John's age was something that you didn't mind. You knew that the age gap between you probably would have put some people off, but - if anything - he made you feel safe and respected. Though that could be the fact that he was a highly-decorated war vet, and a complete Golden Retriever of a man.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you whispered, "I wouldn't have it any other way, John."

There was a beat of silence as the two of you soaked up the moment; the feeling of just holding one another on the sweat-soaking sheets, oblivious to the world outside of the little bubble you'd created for yourselves. With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, John gave another tentative roll of his hips, drawing another whiny groan from you.

"You sure know how to make an old man feel loved, princess."

Before you could reply - to bring up to the l-word that you'd both been skirting around for weeks now - your phone chimed. The alert tone was one you'd reserved for the other members of the taskforce only.

Why would they be messaging on a Sunday night?

A wave of panic cresting inside of you, you eased John's softening cock out of you, wincing at the sudden emptiness. Your phone was on the desk, all the way over on the other side of the room. It seemed so impossibly far as you scrambled for it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" John asked, suddenly fully alert and hurrying to tug his boxer briefs back on.

Wordlessly, you read the message you'd just been sent. Your face blanched to an unhealthy pallor as you handed him the phone. A single message notification waited on the screen, glaring with accusation.

GHOST: We heard everything, you two. Think you owe us an explanation at the very least. Rec room in ten minutes.

John looked up from the phone screen, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided, sheepish smile. "Well, I guess that's what we get for keeping secrets, princess."

a/n: hello, hello :) so this was the Price X 141!reader fic that won the poll! I've had so much fun writing this one - not that I don't love Double the Love (my firstborn fic) please feel free to tell me what you want to see next! - happy surprise-post thursday, lapetitelapin :)

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: Who said potions class was meant to be boring? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 32: Come A Little Bit Closer

You groaned the second your alarm went off, placing a pillow over your eyes as you winced from the light being extremely harsh to your rather sensible senses. You checked the clock, you were pretty sure you had half threatened Sirius with making his life miserable through Moony last night and blinked a couple of times to force yourself awake. 

After checking the time one last time, trying to convince yourself that the clock said 4:30 instead of 5:30 so you could sleep another hour, only to realize it wasn’t, you raised yourself until you were sitting on your bed “fuck,” you whispered as you felt the ache on your legs and back. You had rolled yourself into a ball, and while initially, the pain had been drawn out by the stress of the water spirit and the euphoria from the party, it wasn’t anymore. Just when I had started to feel fine, you thought. 

You yawned and went to change, rolling your shoulders a couple of times, at least the shoulder wound was a lot better now, and the painkiller potion for that one would also help for the fall, which meant, by the time you were ready, and the meds had kicked in you felt a lot better, except for the fact that you were half tempted to wear a pair of sunglasses even if it was cloudy outside. When you walked down, Sirius and James were already there. 

Sirius gave you a look, taking in your demeanour in an instant and smirking, “You sure you still want to fly, Vix?” 

You gave him a look and huffed, “Very.” 

He chuckled as he walked towards you and placed his arm around your shoulder, “If you say so then.” 

James, who had no idea you had threatened Pads but had gotten a threat of his own in the morning from Sirius, to not go hard on you because of the fall –that he still had to speak his mind to you about– was a little confused with the interaction, but decided that it was probably something to do with being in a relationship. And since he had barely gotten Lily to go on one date with him, he really wouldn’t know. 

Once you got to the pitch Sirius pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and opened it, handing it over to you, “Memorise this.” 

You frowned, trying to figure out why Sirius would give you a notebook, but then you read some of the words and understood, it was the counterspell he had mentioned the previous night. You smiled, at how neatly he had written it down, at how he’d separated his cursive more than normal and paid attention to adding the extra dots and lines he sometimes left out.

Sirius had written it for you, and he wanted you to pay attention so he had been extra careful with it. And you, being as naturally curious as a fox, decided to snoop around the notebook a little more. There were a few silly doodles and for a minute you worried that he had given you his sketchbook, but it was definitely not it, that one was a little wider, and the cover was black, this one, on the other hand, had a wine red cover, a very Gryffindor notebook. 

There were lists of songs, with names for mixtapes at the top on some pages, and a few movies some muggle friends had recommended, including some you and Remus had told him about. On some of the pages you spotted your name written on the edges, and you smiled, you didn’t know boys did that too. 

“You done?” He asked as he turned to you, he had been pulling out some stuff from the shed with James. You quickly changed the page to the one you had to be on and smiled. 

“Almost,” you said before trying to fully focus on the page and the words. They weren’t tricky, in fact, it was kind of a combination of protection spells you already knew, but it was rather long. His thick and delicate handwriting occupies the entire page and then some of the next one. 

After a few more minutes you took a deep breath and nodded “I think I’m ready.” 

“Good,” Sirius said, “Take your broom and hover for a bit.” You did as told. “Not so high silly, what if you fall?” he asked as he saw you float a few feet above his head. 

“I won’t fall,” you said confidently. 

“Vix, lower,” James said rather sternly, it was his captain’s voice. You were a little angry at his demanding tone but after a huff, you did as told. They were right anyway, you weren’t looking forward to falling again. You had enough bruising and soreness for the rest of the fucking year. Scratch that, for the rest of this one and the next one, you only had like thirty days left of 1976 anyway.

“Ready?” Sirius asked, you nodded. And then he started mumbling something, at first, there was nothing, you just continued hoovering peacefully, but then you felt it, a soft yank to the side. Slowly the movements got worse and worse and you felt like you were on a mechanical bull. Sirius looked at you concentrated, a small frown on his soft features as he did. Like he didn’t want to push too hard, but he knew whoever kept trying to push you off your broom –Barty– wouldn’t be merciful so he pushed on.  

That’s when you started muttering the counterspell, tightening your grip on the handle and focusing your magic on your palms, letting it flow through your body and onto the item that was being jinxed. It wasn’t easy, wandless magic always held a small degree of complication, especially the more advanced it was, and counterspells were no easy feat. 

Eventually, you lost the battle and ended up on the floor. Sirius rushed to help but you shook your head, raising your hand to indicate that he stayed in place, and then took a deep breath, “Again.”

“But…” 

“Again,” you insisted “I have to master this one,” you added as you mounted your broom and nodded for Sirius to start again. James was watching attentively and allowed it to continue. Even after you fell over the second time, gritting your teeth and whispering “again.” 

After a couple more times, it was James the one that stepped in. “How about we call it for today and continue trying tomorrow?” he suggested. You had just fallen from your broom and were sitting on the floor looking impossibly tired. 

“But the spell…” 

“James is right, we can practise more tomorrow, we’re not playing until next year anyway, we’ve got enough time to master it.” 

You sighed but nodded, not even attempting to move from the floor for a bit while James and Sirius batted the bludger over each other a couple of times. You took Sirius’ notebook out of your pocket and went over the spell again, recalling if perhaps you had missed some words on the incantation or maybe it was the execution that wasn’t working properly. So you went over the words, reading them in your head and practising the spell as many times as you could. 

“Hey Vix, let that go and come over, I need you to practise this,” James said when he noticed your overly concentrated stance. 

It took you a second to pull your gaze from the paper but you nodded, feeling thankful that you’d get a distraction and then guilty for feeling thankful over it. Either way you pocketed the notebook, grabbed one of the beater bats and mounted your broom, flying towards them. After a while of beating the iron ball with as much force as you could muster, and using exclusively your good arm, you felt a lot better. 

When you were done, you helped the boys with the equipment and walked alongside them all the way to the common room, where you parted ways to change into your respective uniforms. The entire day went by rather uneventfully, McGonagall had paired you with Remus on the transfiguration project and you were still going over crystal ball reading on divinations, although a bit boring, at least it was something you hadn’t any particular talents with. 

Although, and you didn’t want to think much about it, there was definitely something dark surrounding the Ravenclaw tower. You decided that maybe you’d ask Sybil about it later, she had been taking extra classes with Spellman, so she’d probably know if something was up. You considered asking Spellman directly, but you were scared he’d end up blowing it off proportion and decided to just pretend you had seen a field with colourful flowers. 

“What colour?” 

“All the colours,” you said, knowing that if you said a particular one he might end up finding a deeper meaning behind your lie. 

November 30th, 1976 

The following day, you also woke up in time for morning practice, this time around you managed to stay on the broom for longer, but fell either way, and James didn’t allow you to practise as much as the previous day since he wanted to focus on dodging that morning, which had ended up on a very fun practice. 

Sirius had almost gotten a bludger in the shoulder before you pulled him to the side and James barely managed to dodge one that had flown straight to his head. You were all laughing merrily by the time you were meant to go back to the dorms for breakfast. 

Once you reached the common room you spotted Remus on one of the couches and plopped beside him, Sirius doing the same on the other side. “Ugh, you’re both sweaty,” he complained. 

You pouted, “It’s magically cleaned,” you said dismissively as you sank a little deeper, neither you nor Sirius were actually sweaty since outside was so freezing cold. Well, perhaps just slightly. And Remus wasn’t bothered by you sitting next to him either, if anything, he loved it, he had to keep up appearances regardless. 

“The couch is, I’m not!” 

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder, “Aww come on Moony, you’ll smell like your two favourite people all day. What’s there to complain about?” 

Remus almost pushed the boy off him when Prongs intervened, “What do you mean his two favourite people, where does that leave me?” 

Remus frowned at James, clearly interested in where the conversation was going, but it was Sirius who spoke, “On the armchair.”  

James gasped, “Yeah, I don’t think you’d fit in here,” you teased further, a tiny smile spreading on your lips while you pointed at the little space of couch there was left. Now, if you and Sirius had been sitting like normal people, and Remus hadn’t had his legs spread wide, perhaps you could’ve found a way to fit Prongs in, but none of you seemed interested in changing position. 

“I refuse to be left out!” he said with a frown. 

“So what? You’ll use engorgio on the couch?” 

“Too much trouble,” James said as he walked towards you and let himself fall on top of the three as if laying on the couch but using your legs instead. 

“Oi, watch where that elbow goes,” Sirius complained. 

“When was the last time you washed those?” you said with a frown as you stared at his murky-looking socks. 

“They get washed every day!” James complained, “That’s their original colour.” 

“No way in hell.” 

“No,” Remus said as he shook his head. “that really is their original colour, we’ve been teasing him about them since he got them.” 

You leaned over to look at James’ face, it was lying on top of Sirius’ legs “Why did you keep them?” 

James went red, and Sirius responded, “Lily gave them to him, last Christmas I believe.” 

“Yeah,” James said proudly. “They arrived at my house by owl mail. She even wrote a note that said they reminded her of me.” 

You threw a side glance at Remus, clearly seeing the irony in Lily’s note, that seemed to completely slip past James, back then and even now. 

“We’ve got potions,” you sighed, leaning back just a little and allowing James to accommodate his feet better. They were a bit heavy, but at least they weren’t crashing against any bruises. 

“Thought you liked potions,” Sirius said. 

“I like hanging out with Rem at potions, but the potion we’re working on is so tedious I swear you need to add another gram of something new every couple of minutes.” 

“At least it hasn’t blown up on your face,” James said with a shrug, remembering the way it had exploded on Tom the previous class, and Tom was actually good at potions. Thought, perhaps he had been a little distracted that day.

“We could skip…” Sirius offered. 

“No, we can’t!” Remus said, “She’s lost enough classes with last week’s drama!” He then turned to you. “And don’t you dare leave me alone with the veritaserum!” 

You took a deep breath and nodded “I wasn’t thinking of skipping,” you defended. “I was merely informing.” 

“James Fleamont Potter!” You heard Lily’s reprimanding voice from the stairs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

James seemed a little confused, leaning up just a little to try and spot the redhead, “uh… Resting?” 

“On top of your two freshly injured friends?!” 

Both you and Remus started a chorus of “I’m fine” and “Oh… It’s okay Lily, I’m healed now, it doesn’t hurt anymore” but she took none of it. Walking all the way to the couch and forcing James to roll off of it. He fell on the floor and turned, looking at the kneeling figure with his charming little smile, like she was the only witch in the world. 

You could tell Lily was fazed by it, especially when a little bit of red started to spread over her cheeks, you smiled, raising an eyebrow towards Remus who clearly had noticed too. 

“Enough of that!” She told him with a slap on the arm. “Let’s get some breakfast, you must all be starving.” 

“I second that,” you said with a nod. 

“Yeah, me too,” Remus agreed. 

“Hungry beasts, that’s the kind of people I surround myself with,” Sirius joked. 

“If anyone’s a hungry beast here Sirius…” you started and threw him a look that had him gasp “Anyway… breakfast.” 

All of you stood up and started walking towards the Great Hall, Peter was fast to catch up with you and Lily told you the girls were already there. Breakfast was as delicious as always, and you were so hungry you even took an extra slice of toast with jam and peanut butter to munch on on your way to potions. 

“Pass me the Stewed Mandrake Root, would you? Sweetheart?” Remus asked as he stared at the cauldron with a bit of a frown.

“We’ve already added that,” you responded, leaning forward to look as well, the potion was a weird murky brown colour, not the mossy green that the book described it would be. “Did we measure wrong?” 

“Maybe we spun it the wrong way around?” Remus said, just as puzzled as you, “You measured that one, you never measure wrong.”  

“Yeah, I checked twice,” you agreed, that was something you had learned from Remus near the beginning of the year. And you were especially careful with longer and more tedious potions like this one. 

You saw Snape snigger from the side as he stared at your cauldron, and you were about to flip him off with two fingers when Remus placed a hand over your forearm and gave you a look. You gave him a reproachful stare in response but he just raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head a little. You huffed in response but held back the insults you had in store for Snivelus. You understood why Remus did it, getting in petty fights with the Slytherins had already gotten you almost killed once.  

You sighed and went back to look at your potion, suddenly remembering, “There’s a troubleshooting guide at the end of each chapter, perhaps we can find something there?” you suggested and the two of you went straight to look through the book. 

“I think… the only thing that could’ve happened is someone sabotaging the potion…” Remus said with a frown, “If we had added too much of any ingredient the result would be different colours. It would be red with too much Mandrake root, blue if we had undercooked the Syrup of Hellebore, and purple if it were because of the Bicorn Horn powder, but none of these mention brown.” 

You bit your lip as you analysed the situation and looked around, if someone had actually sabotaged your potion, you’d have to figure out exactly what they had used to do it, to attempt and revert it, if it was even possible.

You started looking at people’s tables and the ingredients they had placed on them, Alison Prewet and Archie McMillan had a few ingredients that didn’t go in the recipe but neither of them was particularly good at potions so you couldn’t be sure it had been them.

Tim Klum also had some suspicious-looking ingredients, but by his nervous stance and recent rash, you assumed he was trying to brew something to counter it instead of sabotaging anyone else. Besides, you had barely crossed words with him, and you were certain he didn’t have anything against Remus, regardless you wrote down all the ingredients he had on his stable, identifying them by texture and looks. 

Then you spotted something mysterious by Sirius’ table. Of course, Sirius would never sabotage you or Rem, but Severus? You wouldn’t put it past him, he could be a jealous little snake, although he had never done such a thing, and you weren’t sure why he would be sabotaging you now, the fact that he had Shivelfig, which was normally used for draught of living dеath made no sense. Unless he wanted to steal it for himself that is. 

You turned to Remus “I have a hunch of who might have done it,” you mumbled, almost inaudibly, but he heard, and you knew he’d be able to hear it. He gave you an attentive look, “But I want to test my theory before we make a mistake.” 

“What do you need?” 

“Just a bit of someone else’s potion, that’s at the same stage as ours.” 

Remus nodded, “I can do that, you?” 

“I’ll get some Shivelfig.” 

Both you and Remus nodded as you looked attentively at the other, he grabbed a small vial and started walking towards James and Lilly while you walked towards Sirius’ table. 

“Hi Pups,” you said with a smile. 

“Sod off,” Snape said when he spotted you. 

“You do it.” 

“This is my table.” 

“Argh, c'est un idiot, comment tu le supportes?” You asked, looking at your boyfriend.

“I’m intelligent enough to know you’re calling me an idiot,” Severus said impassively.

"Très bien, casse-toi alors."

Sirius laughed at your crassness and Severus just rolled his eyes, not understanding what you said but figuring out you were either telling him to fuck off or piss off, which wasn’t that far from the real thing. “How come you’ve come to visit, Kit?” Sirius asked. 

“Missed you,” you said simply, Sirius saw the mischievous smile you gave him and knew instantly you were up to something. 

“Aww, you did?” he asked as he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you slightly closer to him, Slughorn was near the back of the classroom helping some Slytherins with a fire they had accidentally caused, which was enough distraction for you to be able to be all over Sirius at that moment. 

“Oh, please, I’m going to puke…” Severus said as he rolled his eyes and turned to the side. 

You forced yourself to hold back a laugh, Sirius, whose back was turned to Severus, and who had the least serious face you’d ever seen, wasn’t helping. “Devrions-nous lui donner un spectacle?” You asked in a low voice, trying to make it sound like you were flirting rather than just asking Sirius if you should annoy Severus further. 

Sirius bit his lip, looking at you with a small frown before nodding, “Mh-hum,” he replied before leaning in to give you a kiss. 

“Ugh please, we’re in class!”

“Go be jealous elsewhere, Snivelus,” Sirius pulled himself from the kiss just for a second to say that, going back and deepening the kiss a second after. Severus looked at the two of you in disbelief and then back at Slughorn, but he was way too busy with the fire in the back. Who would have thought adding a little bit of dragon breath to the potion would cause such a complicated mess? 

You deepened the kiss, pushing Sirius back just a little and his back crashed against Snape’s shoulder, Snape pushed back and Sirius had to tighten his grip on you so you wouldn’t fall. You could feel he was about to laugh because of Severus’ reaction and you squeezed his arm just a little to get him to focus and he did, even let out a small, rather performative grunt, just to piss Severus further. 

Severus was about ready to go get the teacher, or a prefect, or someone to get you to stop snogging in front of his face when you leaned in again, this time pushing Sirius’ arm strategically so it pushed their leftover Syrup of Hellebore, it wouldn’t do any harm to him since it had been cooked, but it would make his uniform stink after a couple of hours, and you knew he knew about it. 

“Ugh!” he complained, “You pair of dimwitted animals!” 

You pulled back from the kiss, just to give him a side glance, looking only mildly apologetic “Oops, sorry…” 

Snape gave you a disgusted glance and stood up. “I’m off to clean this up, Black,” he glared at the boy, Sirius turned to him with an uninterested glance. “Please, for the sake of our passing grade, make sure our potion stays boiling at a steady temperature while I’m gone.” 

“Sure Snivelus, I’ll make sure,” Sirius said with a rather indifferent shrug just to piss Severus off a bit more. Severus gave him an untrustful glance, but stood up and left. While he was leaving you went back to kissing, which seemed to piss Severus off even further, which made both you and Sirius smile in the kiss, you were half still kissing, half using each other’s mouths to hold back a laugh. 

When you finally stopped, Sirius was biting his lip to hold back a grin while you were looking at him with lips pursed, still trying to hold back a laugh. 

Sirius cleared his throat “Now that the crow’s gone, would you care telling me why you’re really here?” 

“What? Kissing you passionately in the middle of class is no good excuse?” 

Sirius raised his eyebrow “Oh no, I think it’s an excellent excuse, but I’m waaay more likely to use it than you are.” 

You gave him a small smile, “I think Severus might have sabotaged my potion,” you admitted, “and I think he used this,” you took a hold of the jar with Shivelfig , “to do it.” 

“We should ruin his potion then,” Sirius said instantly. You gave him a look, he raised an eyebrow “What?” 

“Sirius, he’s your partner. If we ruin his potion…” 

Sirius frowned, “Well, it’s not fair if he gets out scot-free.” 

“Remus and I are trying to fix it.” 

“And you can do it?” 

You shrugged, “If he really did use shivelfig, we could try and find a way to counter its effect, or at least neutralise it.” 

“So you came to get some.” 

You nodded, “The kisses were a great bonus though.” 

“I can give you many more bonuses, darling,” he said and leaned in again, but you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around to see who was there, thankfully, it wasn’t Slughorn.  

“You got that?” Remus asked. 

“Yeah,” you said as you pulled a small flask with shivelfig from your cloak.

“Hold up! When did you even…?” Sirius asked, confused. 

“I’m a girl of many talents,” you told him with a wink. “See you around, Puppy!” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back to your table alongside Remus. “You got the potion?” You asked Remus, who seemed tense for some reason. He had seen the whole thing happen, and his head had started going haywire with so many thoughts running through his head.

“Yeah,” he responded, “James and Lily.” 

Once you were both on your table, he poured half of his little flask on a crystal vase and you used a pair of tweezers to add the tiniest bit of shivelfig to the potion. Nothing happened and you frowned. “Maybe it wasn’t Snivelus in the end…” 

“No wait,” Remus said, placing a hand on your forearm and taking a small stick, sipping it in the flask and turning clockwise three times, the potion turned the same murky brown as yours in an instant. 

“Remus, that’s brilliant!” you said with a smile “The potion didn’t go brown until we spun it, and Severus probably knew, he could have added the shivelfig a while ago, that way we wouldn’t have noticed, and we would have just assumed we did something wrong.” 

Remus nodded, “He’s an asshole, but he’s a competent one.” 

“So now we know what he used, how do we neutralise it?”

“I’m not sure,” Remus said as he bit his lip. 

“Sopophorous bean?” you asked. “Isn’t it used on draught of living dеath to neutralise the shivelfig’s poisonous nature?” 

Remus shook his head “Yeah, but combined with Mandrake Root it can be dеadly, our veritaserum would end up being Baneberry Potion instead.” 

“Shit, you’re right,” you said almost in a whisper. You frowned, racking your brain trying to find a solution only for it to clash against the rest of the ingredients. Your face started to fall when you started running out of ideas. No matter how much you thought about it, it seemed like there was no solution, which left you dejected since even if you had figured out exactly how they had sabotaged you, you wouldn’t be able to fix it.

“I might have an idea,” Remus said then, he had the same face he made when he was focused on a task, preparing a complicated potion or working on the details of a plan, it was that of absolute concentration. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed tightly against the other, causing one of his scars to move along with his mouth. He looked cute. 

“Wait… really? How?”

“I’ll go get some Moonstone… Do you have the charms book with you?” He asked. 

“We… don’t have charms today…” you said. You used to carry it around all the time but after your shoulder wound carrying as little as possible was a lot more manageable, even with the floating spell you had placed on your bag. 

“It’s fine, it’s somewhere in my bag, look for it, will you? Find the magnetism spell.”  

“The magnetism…” you started with a slightly questioning look and then gasped. “Remus, that’s… has it even been tested before?”

Remus shrugged in response, “It’s either that or we do it over. Besides, we could test it with this,” he said as he pointed at the little vial that you had used to see if it really had been shivelfig what they had used to ruin your potion. He then leaned down and placed his bag –that he had carelessly thrown on the floor– on the table right in front of you. “Just be careful, there’s an extending spell inside so I can keep all my stuff. Might take you a while to find it,” he added right before he walked towards the ingredients cabinet. 

He hadn’t been exaggerating, his bag was absolutely filled with things. You dug inside and could feel several books, you pulled them out, one by one, he had some books for classes, some library books that had gone overdue, the copy of The Godfather he had been reading you and Sirius, the copy you had given him of The Portrait of Dorian Grey when you discovered he was a Werewolf. 

You’d told him he could keep it one time he mentioned he wanted to get a copy to annotate, which made you wonder if he had annotated the sides and you opened it, you had written some notes on the pages, notes he hadn’t erased, writing around the edges and under your own handwriting. And on ink, it was absolutely clear who had written what, and he’d even responded to some of the things you had annotated. You smiled, you’d have to ask him to borrow it to you one day, just so you could see what he wrote. 

As you flipped the pages, something called your attention. Sirius’ name was written on one of the corners of the book, you frowned and looked at the page, there were a few highlighted quotes here and there, but there was something about Sybil calling Dorian prince charming and you chuckled. Yeah, you too would have considered Sirius a Prince Charming. You closed the book and placed it back on his bag, completely missing how Sirius’ name repeated over and over through the pages, how your name was doodled alongside his too. 

How in one of the quotes from Basil, he had pointed out that Basil was just like him, fallen in love with the impossible, but that Basil had been lucky enough to only find one of those people rather than two, how miserable would Basil be if he had loved not only Dorian, but Sybil too? Perhaps half as miserable as Remus felt sometimes. 

You continued to rummage through Remus’ bag, and you felt a small plastic bag, you assumed it was chocolate and took a hold of some of them out to ask him for one when he came back, you knew he would say yes anyway, but when you pulled your hand out, you were met with a strip of condoms instead.  You quickly put them back in, trying not to think of the fact that they were size L or the fact that he had so many of them. Does he not know about the potion? No, he definitely knows about the potion, I mentioned it at the Quidditch party. You swallowed thickly, you were sure you had flushed at least a little when you felt a hand on your back. 

“You found it?” Remus asked. You were startled, and had to cough a couple of times to compose, Remus felt a lot taller to you at that minute, as if the size of the… nevermind, erase that thought, erase that thought. 

“No, I– you keep a lot of stuff in your bag, Rem.”

“You didn’t find anything weird, did you?” 

“Weird?!” you were sure your voice had gone an octave higher by that point. “No,” you coughed again, “Nothing.”

He looked at you as if he wasn’t convinced, “Cause if you did it was probably Sirius’ he leaves a lot of stuff in my bag.” 

The idea of them being Sirius’ instead of Remus’ made you gulp, you were sure your cheeks would warm if you didn’t change the subject immediately, so that’s exactly what you did, “Found the moonstone?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “back pocket,” he added as he dug his hand through his bag, “On the left, my left,” he added then, “where you’re standing.” 

“Oi! I know where the left is!” you argued as you went for it. 

“You didn’t know last time.” 

“Though we settled on the fact that I just wanted to grab your ass.” 

He chuckled, “You really can’t lose, can you?”

“I jumped off my broom to get the snitch, what did you expect?” 

Finally, he pulled out the book, one of the condoms falling on the floor. He looked at it, and then at you, you were also looking at it “That’s…” 

“I know what that is,” you said. “Spent last summer on muggle London, remember?” It had been pretty hard to forget the safe sex campaigns all over the bus stops near the biggest schools as you walked past them. And of course you, being naturally curious, had gone and read all the details they offered. At least you had learned a few things in the end.  

“Alice gave them to me,” he said as he leaned down and grabbed it, placing it back in his bag as fast as possible. 

Remus seemed genuinely flustered about it, which is why you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him. “Oh, so you’re definitely having fun,” you said with a teasing smile. 

“What?! That’s–” 

“Hey! I don’t judge,” you added with a shrug, “I told you when I found your stash.” 

“That wasn’t–” 

“It’s fine Rem,” you said as you placed a hand on his arm. “You deserve to relax every now and then, if anything, you should use them up before they go bad… Although you do know the potion exists, right?” 

“Please stop,” Remus said as he placed both hands over his face and leaned down on the table. He was flustered over you insinuating such things, more because he always thought about you when he did them with Alice than because you insisted on teasing him about her. If only you knew, heck, you would probably break off your friendship with him. As if anything Remus did would make that happen. 

You only laughed and placed a hand on his back “All right big boy,” you didn’t say that on purpose, but it did make you think back on the size of the… no. “Back to the potion…”

“Yes,” Remus stood, the flush on his cheeks fading away slightly. Although the bits of red still made him look adorable, you almost wanted to get a picture of it. And then you wondered what he would look like if he were looking at a person he liked, little did you know that was exactly what he was doing. 

All the while, Remus was flipping through the pages. “Here!” he said and pointed at the page, leaning closer to you so you could see the book, “So… the idea is to use the spell on the moonstone, but somehow make it attract just the shivelfig.”

“We could do it by combining it with a locating spell?” 

“It was my idea too, but… how?”

“Hold up,” you said as you pulled a parchment from your bag, he pulled the quill closer to your hand and you dipped it in some ink before drawing some runes inside a small triangle. It looked a lot like what the muggles thought whichcraft looked like, and it was a little archaic, inexperienced wizards would say it was dark arts -it wasn’t- and regardless, it was still the easiest way to combine spells. 

“Are you drawing a Nimueh diagram?” 

You nodded, and he stared as you continued to add symbols and runes and lines around your paper. Once it was done you placed the stone on top. “You’re better with location spells, how about you say that one and I go for the magnetism one?” 

“Have you ever done it?” 

You shook your head “But I haven’t done a location spell either, you have,” you added with a shrug. 

“Okay, let’s do this,” Remus said with a nod and offered his hand. You gently placed your hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze. “In three… two… one…” 

Little did you know that while you chanted the spell, and almost with the whole previous interaction, Sirius had been looking at the two of you with absolute fascination. At the incredible team you made, at how cute Remus looked flushed and at how much fun you seemed to have around him, teasing him.  It was in those genuine, carefree smiles that you managed to pull out of his best friend, your best friend too, he remembered. It was in the chuckles he pulled out of you, in the way you moved around the table to get the ingredients, in the way you grabbed your parchment and he passed you a quill. 

Sirius was so enthralled by the two of you that he didn’t notice Severus returning to his sit right next to him, “I told you to check on the potion you stu-” 

Sirius turned around to look at the boy, annoyed. “The potion’s fine,” he said carelessly. “No one messed around with it while you were gone. Vix would never stump as low as that.” He said that last bit with venom, looking straight at Severus who narrowed his eyes. There was no way Sirius could’ve known, and yet…

“Do you think it’ll work?” You asked Remus, you had just finished chanting the spells, your hands sliding off each other a little too fast for his taste and the moonstone -that shone as you infused it with magic- seemed to be slowly fading into its natural state. 

“There’s only one way to know,” Remus said as he took the small milky stone and dropped it straight onto your cauldron. You peered in, and slowly, the murky water took back the mossy green colour it should have had initially. Both you and Remus smiled relieved. 

“You did it!” you said almost jumping in joy, placing your hand over his arm and squeezing lightly, “You’re absolutely fantastic!” 

 Remus turned to you, his expression mirroring your own, “We did it,” he remarked “It was a team effort, you guessed what they’d used to sabotage us.” 

You were both smiling brightly at each other when Professor Slughorn approached the two of you, “Are you finished with your potion?” he asked, “You seem rather thrilled.”  

“We had a bit of a setback,” you admitted, “but we’ve managed to fix it, the veritaserum should be finished before the class.” 

“A setback? Of what kind?” 

“We got sabotaged, Professor,” Remus explained. 

“Outrageous! Who would dare do such a thing, to such brilliant students?” 

You were about to speak but Remus intervened “We do not know, but (Y/N) managed to figure out what they had used shivelfig, we used the knowledge for a spell on the moonstone and magnetised the unrequired ingredient to it.” 

You gave Remus a look but decided to follow along, whatever reason he had not to rat Snape out, must have been good. You used your wand to pull the moonstone out of your cauldron, it was no longer white and seemed to be covered with a murky slippery substance. The shivelfig clearly had reacted with some of the other ingredients. You levitated it closer to your face to give it a look before letting it fall back down on the table. 

“And you used a Nimueh diagram so that the shivelfig would adhere to the moonstone, clever!” He said as he pulled out the paper from the table and inspected it. He could see it was your handwriting, which is why he looked at you when he said it.

“Thank you, sir,” you responded, “But it was a team effort.” 

He turned back to Remus as if just remembering he was there too, you narrowed your eyes at him, “Of course, of course,” he said dismissively, which pissed you off a little bit too much. “Please stay after class is over, I need to have a word with you.” 

You looked at him, frown deepening but nodded. “Of course, Professor.” 

“Excellent, so.. get on with it. I want to see how your potion comes out in the end,” And with that, he was gone, off to talk to some other students. 

“The hell was he going on about?” 

“It’s probably about the slug party,” Remus said with a shrug. 

“The what?” 

“His exclusive Christmas dinner, he only invites the best students.” 

“You must have gone several times then,” you concluded. 

Remus tensed, “No. Never been invited.” 

You turned to him with a frown, “What but that doesn’t–”

 You were cut off by James, “You done, kids?” 

“Almost,” Remus said, you passed him the last ingredient you had to measure and he placed it on the cauldron, stirring the potion three times to the right, finally the colour was transparent. 

“You think it worked?” 

You shrugged, “Only one way to find out,” you said as you grabbed a pipette, dipping it in the liquid and placing your finger on the hole at the top, moving it to your mouth and releasing your finger, allowing just a drop to fall on your mouth. You didn’t want the effect to last overly long. “Go on then, ask me something.” 

“How many fingers do I have up?” James asked, raising his hand. 

“Six,” you responded, “that was a stupid question, Prongs.” 

James gasped at your reply “Rude.” 

“What did you get on your transfiguration mock quiz?” Remus asked with a teasing smirk.

You groaned, not wanting to respond to this one. “I got a Dreadful,” you said, despite yourself.

“Wait, really?! Is that why you wouldn’t show it to me?” James asked as he leaned a little closer to the two of you.

You nodded, “I couldn’t transform the pot into a swan, I made something close to a chicken.” 

“Close to a chicken?” James pressed.

“That was actually a dreadful animal,” you replied, trying to find a bit of humour in the situation. 

“Well, our trickery worked, the potion’s great,” Remus said pleased as he pulled out a vial to place it in and hand it over to be graded. Pulling out a tag he had previously prepared and lacing some string on it to attach it to the top of the potion. It had “Veritasetum” and then both of your names at the bottom. All in a perfectly elegant-looking handwriting, he’d used caligraphicus to make it extra neat. He always did like the way your names looked beside each other. 

You pulled a flask from your bag and also served some inside. “In case it comes in handy,” you told the boys, who both looked at you with rather impressed expressions as you placed it back inside your bag, now filled. 

Lily called for James and it was you and Remus alone again, he leaned over, you might be pissed after what he was about to do, “Hey little witch,” he said softly. You were cleaning things around but turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Are you really not scared of me?” 

You gave him a look, something between a frown and a comprehensive sigh. You took the pipette and let a few other drops fall in your mouth, more than you had done initially, “In case you thought that perhaps it had already worn off,” you said. “And no, Remus, I’m not scared of you, or Moony for that matter.” The boy seemed apprehensive, “Must I drink the entire cauldron for you to believe me?” 

Remus sighed, a relieved chuckle escaped from his mouth. He knew you weren’t, you had been reassuring enough at the infirmary when you cuddled him as Vixen, but he needed to make sure. To make sure you weren’t lying just for his sake like he had discussed with Sirius the night before the prank. He smiled, diverted and decided to tease further, “So you definitely still want to be friends?” 

You smiled. “Best friends,” you replied, “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.” 

“I have, it didn’t work, remember?” You hummed in response. And then he looked at your shoulder, biting his lip, the next question might actually piss you off, “Does it still hurt?” 

You thought your answer through, “Less than before,” you replied eventually, it was true.

“But it does hurt.” 

“Yes.”

“How much?” 

You looked at the side, not wanting to answer, closing your eyes and sighing when you realised you wouldn’t be able to hold back. “I don’t know, like getting clawed at by a huge wolf, I suppose?” 

“Do you resent me?” 

You frowned. “Of course not! And I don’t resent Moony either, before you ask,” you said that last bit with an accusing finger towards him.

“And the fall?” 

“More scary than painful.” 

“Scarier than me?” 

“You’re not scary!” You turned to him. 

“Scarier than Moony?” he corrected. 

“Yes.” There was silence. “The water monster… it was… nothing like Moony, frightening, hungry, unreasonable. Moony’s different, he– you are beautiful.” 

There it was again, you calling him beautiful, you kept doing that over and over, and he thought it was just your protective nature, you wanting him to feel better about it, but with veritaserum, it was impossible to lie. Remus cleared his throat, looking to the side as he felt a flush going up his neck and you smiled, pushing him just a little. “Now stop asking me questions that make me sound all sappy!” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“Told you to stop making me sound sappy, how would you feel I had you drink some and ask you questions?” 

“I never had you drink anything!” he replied, offended. 

“Right, you only took advantage of the fact that I had drunk it to ask your silly questions.” 

“They were legitimate.” 

“Most of them I had already answered Remus.” 

“Only half answered,” he corrected. “You’ve said time and time again that you were fine.” 

“I AM fine!” And that was true, again, you couldn’t lie. Did everything hurt? Yes. But other than that, other than the pain, other than the soreness, you were perfectly fine. 

“And you truly believe it,” Remus said, surprised. 

You smiled and pushed him again “No more questions,” you warned with a smile on your face. 

“And here I was thinking of asking you if Sirius was good in bed,” Remus joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said before you could stop yourself. 

Remus looked at you surprised, “You mean you haven’t–” 

“That’s none of your business Moony,” you said as you started to flush. “We said no more questions.”

“Oh, but you’re always teasing me about things like this,” he said as he poked your arm with a sneaky little smile. “So you really never have?” 

“Remus!” You reprimanded again and then sighed. “No, have not. We haven’t gotten there yet, okay? We’ve been busy with other things, if you can tell. Now do I have to go into details for you to stop it or…” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” 

You huffed, “you’re too curious for your own good.” 

You were right in more than one way. “If that isn't the cauldron calling the kettle black.” 

You smiled and shoved him to the side again, he enjoyed the feeling of your hand on his shoulder, he was wondering how much he could tease you before you actually got pissed at him when the bell rang. 

“I’ll take this to him and see what he wants,” you said as you grabbed the potion you’d finished. 

“I’ll tell Nightshade why you’re going to be late,” he said as he placed the rest of his books in his bag, “I’ll take your bag too,” he said as he picked it up from the floor.

You frowned, “I can take my own bag, Moony.” 

“I know, but it still hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked as he pointed at your shoulder. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, he knew you’d have to tell him the truth still, you had taken more drops than you needed, you huffed out a “Yes” as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m perfectly capable of–” 

“I know, and I don’t care,” he interrupted as he slung your bag on his shoulder. “I made that,” he said as he pointed at your shoulder, “Now I carry your bag.” 

You scoffed, now diverted at your friend’s resolution more than anything, you were about to say something when Sirius shouted from the door, “You coming Moons, Starshine?” 

“You fill him up, yeah?” You asked Remus just before you gave Sirius a wink, he blew you a flirty kiss in response. 

Remus nodded when you turned back to him, and you gave up on fighting for your bag, after one last sight. “See you in class,” you told him with a wave and walked straight to talk to Slughorn, potion in hand.

“You’ve demonstrated to be a remarkable student the few months that you have been here darling.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“And not only in potions, you were brilliant at the Quidditch game and I’ve heard good things from Professor Bins and Seraphina. Flitwick also speaks highly of you.” 

You tilted your head slightly, a small “hum” escaping your lips, you were sure  Slughorn wasn’t done with whatever he was about to say. 

“And you’ve demonstrated time and time again to me that you are more than well-trained on potions.” 

“It’s only been thanks to my pairing with Remus.” 

“Ah… yes, your pairing with Mr. Lupin,” he said. “The way you switched the papers was undoubtedly clever.” 

You gasped, “You realised?” 

He just smiled, as if it had been obvious, “I picked the partners for everyone, of course, I knew. I just wasn’t sure how you’d managed to outmagic my spell. All at Potter’s request, I believe. He must have convinced you, that boy has been madly in love with Miss Evans for a while now.” 

“But you didn’t say anything then.” 

“If you had been smart enough to switch my charms, I assumed you’d be able to cope with Remus’ speed at potion making.” 

“So you know he’s good.” 

“Of course, Remus has always been remarkable.” 

“Then why has he never been invited to the–” 

“So you know why you’re here.” 

“He might have mentioned something like a Christmas dinner.” 

Slughorn nodded, “Yes, this is my cordial invitation to our dinner on the 20th of December. I know there’s still some time, but I thought you might want to know since you are always welcome to bring a guest along.” 

“Could I bring Remus?” 

“You may bring whomever you want.” 

“But why isn’t he invited?” you pressed. 

Slughorn gave you a look, you didn’t want to press too much, you had the suspicion it might have been due to bIood status, either that or Slughorn knew about his lycanthropy, either way, it just didn’t make sense to you that he wouldn’t invite Rem.

“For reasons that you are not and will not be aware of, I’m afraid,” he responded eventually. 

“But I could bring him as my guest?” 

“Yes, although I expected you to bring Mr. Black.” 

That got you to pull your head back just a little, you had been so defensive over Remus, you had forgotten that the most logical person for you to bring along would be your actual boyfriend. 

“Think about it,” Slughorn said with a small smile. “And tell me when you’ve made your choice. Now I don’t want to keep you for too long, it’s time to get to your next class.” 

You gave him a courteous nod and left. You’d have to talk to Sirius about this. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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[ratcash-wasgud]

Absolutely love your fics! Could we request a loser Mizu getting caught touching herself and when she tries to play it off coolly, the other person is like "Huh? No I want to watch you"

Bless you for this one, lovely.

mdni

Travelling with you was hard to describe. On one hand, Mizu liked your company, even if she never showed it. You were always there to brighten her day, stich her up, or flick her nose playfully when she felt moody.

On the other hand though...

You made her crazy. Maybe Mizu got too into the role of a man, but she caught herself lusting over you. It was embarassing, honestly. Watching your kimono slightly open as you bend down, revealing your cleavage, or staring at your legs that poked out of your clothing as you slept for hours was slowly taking a toll on her.

She couldn't concentrate anymore. At moments, she knew you were a demon sent to tempt her into wandering off her path...but she also knew that she was also a demon. So would it be that bad to indulge?

You were kind, always, maybe playfully teasing sometimes, but never mean, so in her head, you wouldn't reject Mizu if she came onto your with her intentions.

But, that would also mean revealing the fact that she is a woman, and that would be troublesome. You probably wouldn't trust her with your protection anymore. Or would just straight up feel betrayed.

So, she came up with a plan.

"Here," She stuffed a small bag of golden coins in your palm. "We're running out on food. Go into the town at the end of the forest, and buy some." She says, completely deadpan.

Your face lights up, happy that she finally trusts you enough with a task, even if it's little. "You got it!" You say, surpressing the urge to skip there, so you just powerwalk away, your face beaming with excitement.

But the moment you're out of sight though...Mizu finally lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She needs to be rid of these desires, she needs to focus on her task instead of your skin. She needs to let her desires run free, free out of her system. Once will do.

She sits down at the foot of a tree, placing her hat beside herself. She doesn't know how to start, she just knows that she wants to hurry. She feels this horrbile aching between her legs for weeks now, so now, that she decided to actually do something about it, her body lit itself on fire.

She slowly pulls down her pants, looking shamefully at her womanhood as it's lightly glistening already. Her finger lightly traced the shape of her clitoris, before running it between her folds, reaching her entrance. Oh, how sensitive she was.

At that moment, Mizu truthfully wished to be a man. She had a couple reasons. She could please herself with the simple motion of moving her palm up and down, like she knew was enough for most men, instead of needing to tease herself until her clitoris started twitching and her walls are basically panting for pleasure.

Her other reason was that if she had been a man, you could be here with her right now. You could look into her eyes, pleading for her touch withouth words as you show her the skin you've been hiding, but she has been longing for. You could lean back against a tree, your legs closed at first, shying away from showing too much.

Her fingers start to rub her clitoris.

But Mizu would reassure you, putting a gentle hand on your knee, opening the soft plush of your thighs, revealing your secret garden to her gaze, already throbbing with need. You'd look at her, softly panting as her hand would wander towards your folds, dipping a finger between them, to get a hold of your slick, that she could spread all over them.

She chokes back a moan as her hand moves lower, teasing her entrance.

She'd spread your folds, revealing your puffy entrance to her gaze, that was already breathing for her. You'd whimper small pleas into her ear as she'd rub circles around it, wanting to make you wait. Wanting to make you beg, to make you crazy with need. She imagines you'd wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her closer in an attempt to get her fingers inside. How needy you'd be for her.

She slowly slips a finger inside, biting back a groan.

She'd give it to you if you'd ask nicely enough though. She'd start with one, then after one or two thrusts she'd give you another. Her long fingers would kiss your insides everywhere they reach it, massaging your inenr walls, and quickly finding that gummy spot would force a squeel like moan out of you everytime she pressed on it. She'd seperate her fingers, wanting to stretch you out a little more. She'd use her other hand to gather the slick that is dripping out of you, and bring it to her lips.

Mizu adds another finger, and her back slightly acrhes.

Your lips would part, begging for a kiss silently from behind your moans. You'd beg for her to let you taste yourself on your lips. Your walls would tighten so much around her finger's, she'd think you want to rip them off. Your cute little clit would be lonely though, twitching by itself. Mizu would never foget about it. She'd slowly lean down, her fingers still pumping in and out of you, as her tounge would slowly meet your needy nub, pressing it's warmness against it.

She curls her fingers inside herself, moving her other hand to her clit.

You'd cry out, grabbing her hair with your weakly trembling fingers, signaling that you want more. More of the pleasure she's giving you. More of her. She'd feel your sweet juices on her tongue coming in bigger waves. You were close, she could feel it.

She was close. She could feel it.

But still...she needed more.

"Mi...zu?" Your voice breaks her out of her trance of lust, her eyes darting into yours. Fuck. You didn't just catch her touching herself, but you also caught her. The fact that she's not a man is also out of the bag. Let's not panic though.

"Hey." Mizu answers, her voice breathy as her fingers stop on herself. She pulls out slowly, making sure not to draw a reaction from herself. It's fine. She can play this off. She didn't just masturbate to the thought of making love to you, it's fine. "What?" She asks, raising an eyebrow, trying to be as casually as she could.

"Why did you stop?" You ask, tilting your head and stepping closer.

What? Mizu watches in awe as you walk right up to her, and sit right infront of her. Your gaze fell on her still exposed folds and she felt her breath hitch. What does this all mean? Do you want to join her? Or...

"Come on, it's okay...continue." You say with a smile, putting your hands on her knees, opening them back up.

"Wha...you..." Mizu blinked, confused out of her mind.

"Continue." You repeat, your gaze getting more intense. "I'll just watch." You offer a smile.

That was...weirdly hot. Mizu could feel your gaze burning a hole into her...well, hole, an that just made more slick drip out of her. She hesitantly pushes her fingers back inside, moving them slowly.

Her breath got heavy again, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from yours. You weren't looking back into her eyes, your gaze was focused on her hand, as she moved it inside herself.

She was embarassed out of her mind, but somehow it felt okay. Because it was you.

Just the thought of you watching her somehow made her more aroused that ever.

"What are you thinking about?" You whisper with a smile, watching as her slick dripped down her inner thighs, wetting the ground.

Mizu quietly moaned. "Y...you." Mizu admits in the form of a murmur, swallowing thickly. She breathed through her mouth fully now, her knees lightly shaking.

"Yeah?" You smirk at her, your voice low and a little raspy. "What about me?"

"Want to...be with you...s'bad..." Mizu murmurs between quiet moans, her fingers now pumping faster, keeping them deep inside, never pulling out too much. "Want to...feel you...y'make me...fuckin'..."

"It's okay," You coo at her as you see her body shaky, probably because she's close. She's so cute like this, it's hard to imagine that she's a revenge fueled murderer. "Let it out." You softly caress her knee and lower thigh.

Mizu's moans slowly got louder, biting on her lip to try to silence herself. But she wanted to be loud. She loved to be loud. She wnated to be loud so you could hear it.

She wishe you'd touch her though. She felt very excited under your gaze, but she really wanted your fingers to come into play and calm herself down.

She clsoed her mouth thightly as she felt the waves of her orgasm, but your hand, coming out of nowhere, opened her mouth, pulling her chin down, freeing that cry like moan that wanted to escape her lips.

"Mhm...that's it." You cooed at her as she rode out her climax. She panted, staring at your eyes that were now, finally looking back into hers.

[gabessquishytum]

Even though dreamling’s together now, having reunited after 33 years and exchanged all their apologies and explanations and confessions of feelings, Hob still occasionally dreams about the missed 1989 meeting, of waiting and waiting and losing hope but still determined to continue waiting rather than risk missing him. It’s not quite a nightmare per se, as it mostly just leaves Hob feeling a little sad upon waking.

When Dream discovers this semi-reoccurring dream, he’s very tempted to simply banish it, until he’s suddenly struck with the notion of replacing it with something more pleasing and enjoyable…

So the next time Hob dreams of 1989, he’s not left waiting for long before a full 80s goth Dream marches in and immediately climbs into Hob’s lap, kissing the daylights out of him. He then proceeds to sit on his cock and ride him for dear life, right there in the middle of the crowded White Horse.

Hob wakes the next morning laughing and crying a little at the gesture, and agrees that it’s a much better version of the dream, though it should probably be repeated a few more times to ensure that it thoroughly replaces the old memory.

-🪽anon

This is so very sweet 🥺🥺 I love the way Dream would fully understand the importance of the dream, and not simply try to erase it. He just wants to help Hob deal with the memory in a more comforting way that is reflective of their current circumstances <3

Hob has definitely fantasised about what Dream would've looked like in 1989. Would he have showed up in full, flamboyant New Romantic era fashion? Or would he have embraced the tradgoth style, painting his already pale face even whiter and layering on tonnes of eyeliner and black lipstick? Of course Dream goes for the latter - he enjoys the spikes on his black leather jacket, the enormous platform heels on his boots, even the huge silver crucifix necklace. He keeps all the jewellery on while he bounces in Hob’s lap, so that the necklace bounces between them, and Hob can take the safety pin early between his teeth and tug.

It's quite the inspiration for Dream to add some pizazz to his outfits in the waking world, too - Hob REALLY likes him in fishnets. All of the 80s gear is surprisingly soothing for Hob, who had begun to subconsciously avoid anything associated with the decade. Now, he can even put on an 80s playlist when he takes Dream to bed... "Shattered Dreams" has a different meaning altogether when Dream is gazing up at him, panting through an orgasm with his pink lips curving into the most satisfied of grins, legs spread wide and unable to quite catch his breath... <3

[sunnynwanda]

Drop Dead: Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: suggestive (af), flirting, borderline obsessed with each other, language.

Hero was going insane. Unhinged. Absolutely bonkers.

Their job was never easy and quite honestly, they never complained about it. They knew what they had to do, and they did it diligently, whether their heart was in it or not. It was a duty, not a hobby. Villain, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of their life with borderline criminal activities. Not that their shenanigans were anything new to Hero.

Their advances weren't either. However, Hero found it exceedingly more difficult to withstand those. They didn't pay mind to the teasing remarks at first, but Villain grew relentless as time went by and Hero couldn't take it anymore. They had no problem dealing with wounds and injuries on a daily, but the state of constant longing and arousal was getting the best of them.

"You maddening little thing-" Hero growls, throwing a punch in the air when Villain turns the tables on them again, jumping off the bridge and onto a boat passing under it. "Get back here!"

Villain's cackle reaches their ears through a haze of desire coating their lungs, their ear ringing from the lingering feeling of Villain's tongue against the shell of it. "Or what, gorgeous?" Villain muses, their grin too wide for their own good.

"Wait till I catch you," Hero rumbles, their fists clenched at their sides, their jaw tight with determination. Villain hasn't seen their dark side. Yet. "I'll make you regret every damn teasing word you've said to me."

"Can't. Wait." Villain shoots back, their eyes burning with a hint of unabashed hunger. Maybe it was their hunger clouding their vision or perhaps it was wishful thinking, but they felt as if Hero was about to snap.

What they did not know was the sort of beast they had unleashed upon themself.

The night couldn't come quick enough as Hero patrolled the city, restless and exceptionally vicious as they dealt with every small issue until the end of their shift. The moment they clocked out was the point of no return.

Villain would be lying if they said they weren't anticipating anything. Except that was not the form of retaliation they would expect from Hero. They felt a shiver run down their spine when Hero's hand wrapped around their throat. They gulp, making Hero's fingers flex over their neck.

"I've warned you," Hero growls into their ear, their voice sending a jolt of desire straight to Villain's core. Heaven's, they'd risk getting their lights punched out to be held like this by Hero.

"Mm, you have," they murmur, leaning back against their chest, their hand gripping Hero's thigh. If Hero expected them to falter, they were out of their damn mind. "Was that supposed to deter me?"

"What are you trying to achieve taunting me like that?" Hero asks, their free arm wrapping around Villain's middle. "Riling me up won't get you anywhere."

"Is that what you think I want?" Villain turns their head to meet Hero's gaze that's already trained on them, watching intently as if to decipher their incentive. "An upper hand?"

"Yes," Hero mutters, their expression turning doubtful as soon as the word is out. It didn't make much sense to them, but then again, Villain never made sense to them. Probably why Hero was so tempted to kiss them senseless.

"No," Villain denies, giving up the fragile hope that Hero could figure it out.

"Then?" Hero insists, growing more impatient by the minute. Having Villain's body pressed to their doesn't help the situation either. "What do you want?"

Villain chuckles, their tongue darting out to run over their bottom lip. They pry Hero's hand off their throat, turning in Hero's arms to come face to face with their favourite nemesis.

"You." They state simply, meeting Hero's eyes head-on. "I want you."

Hero lets out a low groan, their vision whiting out with sheer yearning, an ache building up deep inside them for far too long. "Fuck you." I sneer, their voice brimming with blinding rage and untamed craving.

"Please do," Villain barely manages to utter their plea when Hero slams them against the wall, grabbing the backs of their thighs and hoisting them up.

"You're going to regret that," Hero warns, not waiting for a reply as their mouth latches onto Villain's exposed neck, ripping a choked moan out of their throat.

"Can't. Wait."

Part 1

A/N: You asked, and I could not resist giving our Villain a little treat. Love, Sunny xo

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing@lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist@excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers@miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon@burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode@villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 7

Summary: The seventh part to iFall for Harry

Letting the stranger in your phone go is a lot harder than you anticipated.

Surely a drunken phone call will help with that.

Word Count: 2k

What do you call an apology written in dots and dashes? 

Remorse Code.

…

I’m gonna assume you’re laughing. 

Like hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

And while you attempt to keep from rolling on the floor…I want to say I’m sorry.

Again.

Because I am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.

I know that was selfish. And sneaky. And I wasn’t trying to be. Not on purpose.

I just…I didn’t see any reason to change or ruin what we had.

And then we met. And I saw you. And everything and nothing made sense all at once.

And I thought I could explain.

I wanted to explain.

But I wasn’t sure how.

I guess I thought if we kept talking…the right answer would find me.

But it didn’t.

And then you left.

And I don’t know what to do.

I really don’t know what to do, Cheese Girl.

I miss you.

And I hope you talk to me soon.

You read every text as it comes in. You read, and you reread, and you try not to worsen the anxious pit deep in your stomach.

You didn’t expect this to be so hard. 

You don’t want this to be so fucking hard.

You met him. You met the stranger in your phone and for the most part, it was civil. 

You weren’t catfished. Hooray.

Not to mention, you met Harry Styles. Something that not everybody can say.

But you know better than to let it go any further than it already has. Because it can’t go any further. Your best option is to cut your losses and move on.

Leave this stranger behind.

Because that’s all he is. That’s all he’ll ever be.

A stranger.

You make peace with this thought and go about your life. You go to work, you go to yoga, you go to a bar with friends. You meet new people, and you try new recipes, and you start a new book.

You start a new chapter. Without him.

You try not to think about him. And for the most part, you don’t. He doesn’t reach out again and you assume he probably won’t ever. 

And you’re okay with that.

And then…you’ll hear his name. A friend will mention an outfit he wore at a recent concert or about rumors he’s working on his next album.

And that anxious coil in your stomach will return.

A part of you is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. To find out that this was all some sort of sick prank. For the moment cameras will be shoved into your face to capture your reaction to the news that you’ve been part of a James Corden skit. Or that he’ll be singing about the pathetic girl that had the nerve to believe him when he can do so much better.

But the thing you’re most afraid of…is the way you miss talking to him. The way you’ll pull up his name on your phone and type out a message…only to delete it before you get the nerve to send it.

The way you wish…you could go back to that diner and do it again.

It haunts you, this thought. This regret. More than it should. It eats away at all the work you’ve put in to leaving him behind. It follows you all day. Into the shower, into work, into the grocery store.

And it leads you directly to a bottle of wine.

You’re halfway through your third glass when you get the idea. When all common sense takes a flying leap out the window. And before your better judgment can kick in…you’ve opened up his contact information.

The ringing is loud. Maybe too loud and you grimace as you pull the phone away from your ear. You might be a little too drunk for this.

And then…the ringing stops.

And it all goes quiet.

Until—

“Hello?��

His voice is exactly like you remember. British. And deep. And just a bit raspy.

Perhaps if it were any other moment, you’d be tempted to feel nervous or flushed, but right now…you simply straighten up.

“Hello,” you repeat in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “It’s me. Cheese Girl.”

You think you hear him laugh. “Yeah, I know,” he says before pausing. “…hi.”

“Hi,” you echo before frowning and clearing your throat. “I just wanted to call and say…fuck you.”

A beat before he sighs. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” You begin to pace around your apartment, hoping that the movement will help the words flow a bit faster. “Yeah, because you…you are a complete and total asshole. Did you know that?”

“…I did.”

“Good.” You nod. “And do you know why you’re a complete and total asshole?”

Another brief pause. “Because I lied to you.”

“Eh. Wrong.” You come to a stop. “Because you made me like you.”

Silence.

You carry on. “You made me like you…and then you took it away,” you tell him. “You made me like a complete and total stranger that I’d never met. That I knew nothing about. Just from some puns and your sexy-ass voice. You made me like you. Like…really like you. And then you just…you took it away.”

More silence before he finally murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

Your frown deepens. “No…yes. Maybe—look, that’s not the point. Everything I said is still true.”

He sighs. And it’s heavy. “I…shit, look I…I didn’t take it away. Okay, in fact the last thing I wanted was to end this, but you were the one who said we couldn’t continue.”

“Because we can’t,” you remind him. “Hello. You’re you. You’re so famous, you can’t even walk through the street without people flocking to you.”

“So?”

“So…there’s no room for me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know.”

“How?”

“How?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“Because I just do,” you huff. “There’s only room for models, and famous people, and tours, and all the fucking money you’re probably making. But there’s no room for me.”

“I’d make room.”

The confident remark makes your head spin, and you blink down at the floor.

The call goes quiet for a good minute or two. You wonder if he’s still there, but something tells you…he is.

“You can’t…say stuff like that,” you finally whisper.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not fair. And it’s not true. You can’t possibly make a promise like that.”

“Says who?”

“Says…everyone.” You slump down onto the armrest of your sofa and stare at your lap. “And even if you could…you shouldn’t. You don’t even know me.”

“I want to.”

“You don’t,” you correct. “You don’t want to know me. I’m not…I’m just me. I’m not exactly worth getting to know.”

You hear him scoff. “Well…that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Your eyes narrow. “It’s true. I can’t give you what they can.”

“They who?”

“You know. The other people in your life.”

“What people?”

“The…people. The models and the mommy’s you’re so obsessed with.”

He snorts again. “Okay, well, that doesn’t even close to cover my type.”

“Oh, no? Tell that to literally every ex you’ve ever had.”

“Those weren’t all of my ex’s.”

“Please. Like you managed to date somebody that the press didn’t know about.”

“I have. Many times, actually.”

“Name one.”

“Well, that kind of defeats the whole purpose of dating them privately, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. But I’m not the press. And I’m not gonna tell.”

“Yeah? How do I know that?”

“Have I leaked anything yet?”

The call goes quiet again.

“No,” he admits after a minute. “And honestly...I was kind of disappointed when you didn’t.”

Your brows furrow. “What? Why?”

“Because it meant that you didn’t want anything from me,” he says softly. “It would have made sense if you’d just used this situation to…make some money or gain some publicity. It probably would have even been easier on me if that’s how it ended.”

You feel your heart sink.

“But…your silence meant that you didn’t care about that,” he continues. “It meant that I’d really hurt you. That this had been…real. That you’d rather cut me off altogether then make some sort of name for yourself.”

You swallow the odd lump in your throat as you slide down onto the couch cushions. “I never wanted to make money off of you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, somewhat sadly. “It just…would have been easier if you had.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you will yourself to remain calm. “Harry?”

“…yeah?”

You suck in a quiet breath.

“I miss you.”

You hear him sigh before there’s a bit of static.

He doesn’t answer right away, and you wish more than anything that you knew what he was thinking.

“I miss you, too,” he finally says, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so dejected. “I really fucking miss you, and I’m so sorry that I ruined us.”

“You didn’t,” you whisper, in a voice so small, you’ll be surprised if he hears you. “You were always who you said you were. I know that. But…you and I don’t exist in the same universe. And I don’t think we ever can.”

“Why?” His question is both hopeful and forlorn. “Why not? I have tons of friendships and relationships the world never sees. This wouldn’t have to be any different—we wouldn’t have to be any different. We could still be us.”

Suddenly, your throat burns from the tears you know are coming. “Harry…”

“What? No, stop. We just…come on. We’ve…we’ve met one time. Okay, this is only the start. We still have so much to learn—”

“Harry—”

“No. No, stop…stop doing that. Stop deciding we can’t have a friendship. You haven’t even tried—”

“I can’t try. I can’t…I can’t do this again—”

“Do what? We haven’t even done anything—”

“I can’t lose you again.”

You hate how quiet he gets.

“It was really fucking hard to leave you,” you admit, and there’s a slight rasp to your voice as you fight back tears. “It was so hard to realize that everything I wanted for us was just…gone. That you were gone. That this…weirdly wonderful period of my life was just…over.”

He doesn’t speak yet and you know it’s because he’s waiting for you to finish.

“And if I…if I let myself do this again…and I lose you again…I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“Then you won’t lose me,” he says, but your head shakes.

“You can’t promise that.”

A beat.

“I know,” he sighs before the sigh turns into a groan. “Fuck. I know, I…”

You wait, heart pounding.

You don’t know what you want him to say. You don’t know what he can say.

Maybe you just…wanted to hear his voice.

“Is this why you called me, then?” he asks. “Just to tell me you can’t talk to me?”

Yes. No. 

I don’t know.

“I called because…letting you go isn’t easy for me,” you say. “Even though it should be. Even though I still don’t know you. Because…I feel like I do. I feel like I know you and I feel like when you’re gone…there’s something…missing. And it hurts. And I hate it.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I feel it, too.”

You both fall silent.

The sound of his soft breaths is comforting.

It’s a sound you imagine you’ll remember the rest of your life.

“Let’s make a deal,” you say, stomach already churning at the thought. “We’re good at those.”

He offers a gentle chuckle. “Okay.”

“We stay on the phone for as long as we want tonight,” you explain. “But once we hang up…it’s over. For good. No more texts. No more late-night drunken calls. No regrets. We delete, we block…and we move on.”

He thinks about this. “Is that really what you want?”

“No.” Your eyes squeeze shut. “But it’s the only way I’ll be able to let you go.”

You hate that you can feel his disappointment.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay. Then I’m right here. Until you’re ready.”

You clutch the phone to your ear as a single tear rolls down your cheek.

So begins the end.

“Okay.”

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 8

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 6

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[wordsvomit101]

As usual credit to Hiki (@shyanimeboi) for this god sent gift they grace me. The amount of lore drops got me feral, it feels like Christmas, it feels like summer coming.

I won't post all of it since it is best that you go support the original poster at here: Hikifans on X: "Here is part 3 of the story. Sorry it was abit of a long wait, was stuck grinding for satans beginner nightmere candy https://t.co/IStdo8f7Xs #whatinhellisbad" / X (twitter.com)

Anyway here is the ramble

True but I don't lust as much as you girl (no problem with anyone that related to MC, she's just not for me). If I have that much sexual drive in me, for more than 70 guys at that??? I need to check myself out for medical attention, or else I gonna feel dread every time the lust comes (it is surprisingly a thing that I saw people talk about on TikTok)

Ppyong is a deadly combo man, he is cocky but also a masochist. His appearance is so my type too

MC being a freak, as usual, you go sis ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

THE WAY I CHOKE ON MY OWN SPIT- Like wtf do you mean?!!!! Why are you doing this to my fujoshi kokoro??!!! I know you want to do it but how do you want to do it?!! Shibari? Choking? WHat Ishb Ittzdhbjsfbnv?!- *Error*

NAURRRRR ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ MC DON'T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!!!!

ASK HIM!! ASK HIM TO SPILL IT ALL OUT!! I NEED TO KNOW!! TELL HIM TO SPELL IT OUT-

*Error*

So, uh, they show a close-up shot of Juno's chest and he asks if Minhyeok is hard like his and MC is a bad liar, said "probably" and Juno calls her out on it.

And MC actually admitted and said that Minhyeok's chest is actually "wide like this"???

You did??? But then again why am I surprised that she did, they had to be kissing at some point if they stuck together for more than a decade with that amount of tension between them

Ok so Minhyeok played soccer in high school, MC and he are in different classes and they were going to give him back something they lent. But come across Minhyeok changing in the classroom, pretty standard

Yup, he knows, he definitely knows and he is tempting her. Also, apparently, Minhyeok's chest is toned, but flatter than Juno's, his abs also feel different than Juno's...

If you can't tell I'm furiously taking notes right now, someone on the dev team is looking out for my shipper's heart and I wish that person woke up on the right side of the bed every day and had their taxes filled on time, etc.

Woah that has to be some intense session you got there, I awake until 3am before and I still have energy fueling me.

Relatable, highly so, I got deadlines every day during the semester. You think it's fine when you get used to it after 3-4 weeks but then it hits you with a week's worth of exams that you need to finish within that time while maintaining other stuff outside your major, and then combine it with other stuff outside uni (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

Too high of a standard girl, if I were him, I would already be too high on coffee and delirium to even see what I'm typing on the computer.

I'm surprised he's only tired, I expected some breakdown but then again, it's Minhyeok. The guy built different

Wait that's so cute!!! Awww (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗)

Minhyeok sure is deep in his sleep, cause the slightest noise or outside touch would wake me tf up, I will go straight back to sleep later if it is nothing but if this happens it would me start kicking before I could even think

Built like a campus crush and act like a campus crush. If he has time to be good at sports then he most likely be in one of the SKY universities in Korea. If he also doesn't go to Hagwon then that would be even more crazy

Ok rude, you not even gonna clean the wet chair up??? Even if you're my best friend, I would still drag you back to clean the mess yourself cause ain't no way I'm touching the juice that came out of your bussy

THE TENSION IS REAL BOISSS

I know what you are MC and don't worry I won't judge, just tell me how big the file is compare to others

Ok, that is it, love part 3, they feed me a good amount of lores, and thank you again to the heaven-sent Hiki (@shyanimeboi), please watch the full video on their channel. I couldn't do this without them sharing this with all of us for free at that 🛐🛐🛐

Thank you for reading through my fangirling and good days to everyone!